On Friday evening I went to check out the
‘It’s a textile’
market at
‘It’s a house’ in the Waterkant. For those of you who don’t know,
It’s a house is a bar/lounge/club/workspace that opened late last year. It’s a quirky cool looking venue and as a
working space it’s got free wi-fi and a couple of cubicles across the bar which
you can rent as office space. Nice idea that, although probably not such a good
idea for some of us to work so close to a bar. Definitely not a good idea for
me.
Early last year when I quit my job in fashion buying to pursue writing and
other hobbies-turned-jobs, I worked from home for two months and I often
started my work days (around noon) with a trip to the local wine shop for a
bottle of mid day chardonnay. It was fucking awesome for the writing, alas not
so great for the liver, by the time evening came I’d be having youtube parties
for one listening to the forgotten rappers that made my youth and tweeting Lil’ Kim’s rudest lyrics, which of course were always
about how truly amazing her pussy is. Love Lil’ Kim forever but the amount of
music that she has written about her
“designer pussy” that “comes in flavours”, it’s no wonder people are starting to forget
her, and her pussy. Like Kanye said, “pussy can’t be your only hustle”. Nu
topics please Kim, and I’ll walk right past the Nicki Minaj cd and buy your cd.
Okay I’m bullshitting, I’ll download for free on the internets, but you catch
my drift. Thankfully I no longer work from home and I don’t have to deal with
the judgemental eyes of my cats every time they saw that bottle of Chard.
Anyway, I digress, back to
It’s a textile. It’s a monthly
market that my friend Nonhlanhla a.k.a Tiger-Lily hosts at It’s a house. Lotsa
fashion goodies, from super cheap second hand to designer gear. Check their
facebook page here to find out when the next gig is.
RANDOM FACT WHICH ALWAYS MAKES ME CHUCKLE:
It’s a house is
right next to
Hothouse, which is a men only club, the kind that has steam
rooms, jacuzzis, dark rooms, etc. The kind where nudity is a requirement for
admission. So when I’m having a drink or shopping away at It’s a house the
knowledge that on the other side of the wall is the kind of ‘pleasure central’
that might give a homophobe a heart attack (one can dream) brings a wicked
knowing smile to my face.
