Continuing the series on the radical history of Luton, here's a bit about a 1970s radical bookshop, Partisan Books which was based at 34 Dallow Road from 1974-76.
The bookshop announced its presence in socialist and anarchist publications in June 1974, with notices in Freedom and Socialist Worker:
Freedom 26 June 1974
Socialist Worker 8 June 1974
Key figures in the bookshop included radical social workers Brian Douieb and Liz Curtis (aka Lizz Durkin) who had previously been involved in setting up the Mental Patients Union. The bookshop was linked to a wider 1970s radical culture of 'community activisit, including creches, squatting, community wholefoods, vegetarianism, legal and welfare rights and community newspapers':
Source: Nora Duckett and Helen Spandel, Radically seeking social justice for children
and survivors of abuse, Critical and Radical Social Work, 2018
One of the groups that operated from the bookshop was Luton Women's Action Group. Some of their material has been deposited in Bedfordshire Archives who have written this summary of the group:
'The Luton Women's Action Group held their first meeting in June 1974. At that time the partner of Liz Durkin (now Dr Liz Davies), one of the group's founder members, ran a non-profit political bookshop, Partisan Books, in Dallow Road. This book shop became the centre for lots of groups, including the Women's Action Group and the Luton Street Press.
The Women's Action Group had about 8 women at the core and others that came and went over time. The group was very inclusive and as well as women they had male supporters, including Andrew Tyndall of the Luton News who wrote a number of pieces relating to their campaigns.
The group campaigned for various women's rights and also for nurseries and an adventure playground for children. They believed in direct action and took action, for example, against advertisements that they found offensive. Other activities included writing anti-sexist stories for children and running a women's study course at Luton College. Members of the group attended national conferences and meetings.
In 1976 Liz and her husband moved back to London and the shop in Dallow Road closed. Some of the group's activities carried on for a little while after this and some of the members continued to be active in campaigning for women's rights but the group had ceased to be active by about 1977. The two former members who were responsible for depositing material with Bedfordshire Archives remember being part of the organisation as very exciting and energising. Although the group was only active for a relatively short period it was an important period for the women's liberation movement'.
Partisan Books published a series of non-sexist children's stories including 'Project Baby', 'Doughnuts' and 'Linda and the Food Co-op'
A 1975 jumble sale for Partisan Community Bookshop
I was intrigued to see mention of a 'Luton Street Press', so assume there was actually a Luton radical news sheet similar to Bristol Free Press, Hackney Gutter Press and others of the era, for a while at least. Please get in touch if you have any copies. There's a listing for it in the 'International directory of little magazines and small presses' (1976)
When Lee was jailed in 1975 for a raid on a vivisection laboratory, the bookshop hosted campaign meetings in his support. Released from prison the following year, Lea moved into a squat in north London with Liz Davies and Brian Douieb and helped open a new bookshop in Archway:
Source: Jon Hochschartner (2017), The Animals' Freedom Fighter: a biography of Ronnie Lee .
This new Partisan Books was on Archway Road, and I assume that the Luton one closed around the same time.
Undercurrents, June/July 1976
Both Davies and Douieb went on to careers in critical social work, the former a leading writer and campaigner against child abuse including whistleblowing on abuse in Islington children's homes.
This 1987 Luton News report of Ronnie Lee being jailed for ten years in relation to ALF activities mentions the earlier Luton campaign in his support in 1975 with meetings 'at a bookshop in Dallow Road and at the Recreation Centre in Old Bedford Road' as well as 'youngsters in the Dallow Road area' planning a sponsored swim to raise funds.
(as an aside there's an interesting 2023 interview with Lee at DIY conspiracy where he talks about being in an animal liberation punk band Total Assault and about the influence of the Situationists and the Angry Brigade on him. He also recalls being in an ALF group who would play The Flamin Groovies 'Shake Some Action' before going on a raid)
[I had never heard of the bookshop until recently despite growing up in Luton and getting involved in politics only 5 years later. Would love to know more, please comment/get in touch if you have any memories or documents]
Judy Chicago 'Revelations' is a retrospective of the artist's work at London's Serpentine gallery. Her feminist imagery is quite familiar to me, such as 'Rainbow Warrior (for Greenpeace)' which depicts a Goddess figure seemingly protecting the creatures of the sea. It was painted in 1980, five years before Greenpeace's Rainbow Warrior ship was blown up by the French state while protesting against a nuclear test.
I hadn't though seen any of film work before, specifically her documentation of a series of performances she staged with others in the landscape in the early 1970s including Northwest Coast Atmospheres (1970-75) and Women and Smoke (1971-72): 'Staged across the Californian desert, the performers, whose naked bodies are painted in vibrant pigments, carry out a series of ritualistic gestures connected to early women-centered activities, such as the kindling of fire and the worship of goddess figures' (exhibition guide). There are some very powerful images of women moving around amidst flares and smoke. .
Exhibition closes 1 September 2024, admission free.
The 'Women in Revolt! Art and Activism in the UK 1970-1990' exhibition at Tate Britain (2024) included a great collection of zines and printed ephemera from the feminist movements of that period. Included in one of the display cases were issues of Shocking Pink magazine alongside punk/post-punk records from bands including X-Ray Spex, Au Pairs and Mo-dettes. Sadly my friend Katy Watson, who was involved in Shocking Pink, is not here to see this but as a sometime queercore/punk DJ she would no doubt have been delighted to be in such company. Shortly before she died in 2008 I interviewed Katy about her life, including in this section about her memories of being involved in Shocking Pink and other zines including Outwrite and Bad Attitude, all in the context of living in Brixton in late 1980s and 1990s. Katy first moved to London in 1988 after finishing University, her first home being a rented room in a house in Kennington next door to future Labour Home Secretary Jack Straw! Soon, as she recalls, she was getting involved in feminist publishing...
Outwrite
'The best thing about this time was that I used to work as a volunteer on this newspaper called Outwrite, a feminist paper which I really admired. It was very lesbian and I was thinking about my sexuality at that point. It was really big on international news, they had a very international collective from all over the globe. I thought it was wonderful, but unfortunately it closed down during that year.
After a year or so I ended up living in Brixton. That was the place for me. For the first time I felt ‘I am at home here’. I really liked it, there was a big alternative profile, a big anarchist scene, a big squatting scene, a big lesbian scene, and suddenly not having a job became a very good thing. I was signing on and realized I had plenty of time to hang out with my friends, drinking tea, yakking on and watching daytime TV but also to do political stuff which I got more into at that time.
Troops Out
I was involved in the Troops Out Movement quite early on when I lived in London. I worked on their magazine, Troops Out. I was also part of organizing an Irish arts exhibition and film festival. The art exhibition we tried to put on through Southwark Council initially and that lovely publication the South London Press ran a front page news splash saying council funds IRA film show and the Council very bravely shut the thing down. We managed to transfer over to Lambeth and had the exhibition in the basement of the recreation centre, not the most accessible high profile place, but we put it on and it did have some really good art work in it. We had a weekend film festival at the Ritzy cinema with various political Irish films, some really good stuff. Some of it was not very subtle but some was much more exploratory – I wouldn’t call it straightforward Irish republicanism but something in that area.
I went on the Troops Out delegation to Belfast and stayed with a family, it was shocking and frightening to find yourself walking past soldiers with their guns. It did feel pretty besieged.
Shocking Pink
I started working on this magazine called Shocking Pink, which at that point had an exhausted collective who really wanted to palm it off on someone else. Me and my friend Vanida took it on to quite a large degree. It was based in squats, and was a young women’s magazine. It was supposed to be an alternative to magazines that were around at the time like Jackie and My Guy which were all about boyfriends and getting your make up right, whereas this was feminist and had a good lesbian profile as well, which definitely was a big pull for our readership. We used to get lots of letters from isolated lesbians from all round the country. They found it a real lifeline when they felt isolated at school and stuff like that.
I really liked that magazine. I liked the way it worked. We had a kind of no-editing policy - if we wanted to put something in we just put it in wholesale. We didn’t put everything in, we were selective about what we put it in, but very open. It meant that we put in heaps of stuff which individuals on the collective might never have agreed with and thought was rubbish, it made it very varied and quite strong for that. It made the collective meetings and collective process of putting it together quite light and quite fun because we weren’t sitting round saying ‘what news issues do we need to cover‘. We were just saying ‘OK what articles have we got typed up on the computer, what cartoons have we got, is this enough to fill a magazine yet?’, and then when it seemed like it had built up quite a lot we’d shove it all together and have these big press weekends. First of all it had to be typeset, which we did late at night in this friendly typesetters’ office. I first started learning typesetting which led ultimately to the layout and subbing work I did later on. I really took to it, I really liked the whole world of newspapers and magazines.
I learnt how to use the typesetting machine, it was a beautiful old machine, very difficult to use and user-unfriendly compared to the DTP that was going to come in a couple of years later but the results were really beautiful. We’d come up with lovely long columns of beautiful quality typeset articles - galleys - ready to stick down in our mad collagey style that we had at Shocking Pink. Then we’d all spend a whole weekend spending 16 hours a day sticking it all together, doing lots of art work round the articles.
It was loads of fun as a collective experience, there were lots of volunteers who’d all come out of the woodwork at that point and join in. Just generally around Shocking Pink it made it into a little gang. There was another woman called Louise who I guess was the third main person in the collective apart from me and Vanida, a lovely person who used to do our music reviews - a good little punk. It was just fun being in a gang. After a new issue came out we’d go round selling it, even selling outside Brixton tube station just like the SWP would with their paper, or else we’d go the easy route and go to lesbian pubs and sell it there because it was easy-peasy selling it as a dyke thing, We’d go on demos with it and flog it. It was such a sort of positive publication it was very easy to promote it, you didn’t feel like you were forcing anything difficult or worthy on people that they are less keen on sometimes.
Shocking Pink’s office shifted from a couple of squats, and we managed to get ourselves a huge big room at the top of 121. We had to fight with one of my flat mates, Alex, who wanted it for Class War but we managed to just swing it by claiming that we should have more women in the building!
The poll tax riot
We went on that really huge anti-poll tax demo [31st March 1990] - it was absolutely vast with about half a million people on it or something like that , the one that turned into a riot in Trafalgar Square. There were lots of little poll tax riots going on all over the country at that point, quite a busy political time with quite an anti-Thatcher focus. We went on that big demo with our stacks of Shocking Pinks, selling it, and it was a mad demo. It had all the lefties and anarchists and all the trot groups but also Tories in big flowery hats, it was a sunny day, it was like people were out for a big picnic partly as well.
And then in Trafalgar Square it just turned into a riot with police horses and people chucking loads of stuff. I’d met up with my poor sister who absolutely hates that sort of thing. Of course I was totally thrilled that there was a riot. We were sitting by some landmark and I would say ‘I’ll see you in ten minutes’ and I’d go and try to riot and chuck things into the crowd. I was a really awful rioter because I couldn’t throw very well so I ended up throwing things on the heads of the people in front of me which was not a lot of help to anybody. I’d do that for a bit and then I’d go back and check on my sister who was completely stressed out about the whole thing, and then I’d go and try and riot very ineffectively a bit more. It was an exciting time when you just felt that a lot was happening and I do personally credit that particular riot with bringing down Thatcher- there’d been lots of riots, but that one was big, there were huge buildings in Trafalgar Square set on fire and it went on well into the night. That was a very good time.
Squatting in Brixton
I moved around loads when I was living in Brixton. Some of the time I was living with these friends right in the middle of Brixton in Rushcroft Road, which felt like quite a crazy place. I lived in this very nice co-op for a while, but everyone was always arguing. Then I moved into a squat for a year and a half - I had the world’s easiest squatting experience, we had electricity and I wasn’t there at the point when they actually opened it up and did all the hard work, I just moved in and said ‘Oh will this be my bedroom then?’, and painted it nice colours! It was quite together it wasn’t one of those disaster squats full of hopeless types, it was quite organized and sensible, it was very sociable and very pleasant.
I really enjoyed squatting, it was very much part of the Brixton anarchist scene, very connected with the 121 bookshop. I lived in a squat in Saltoun Road, then later lived in flat back in Rushcroft Road with Rosanne and Atalanta and about ten pets - cats and dogs.
After a bit I decided that since Shocking Pink was a young women’s magazine I was maybe getting a bit old for it, it was supposed to be for teenagers and I was beyond that so I left.
I was working part time, I’d done a course in typesetting and DTP and started working on TV Quick. I was doing lots of writing, working on my first novel, unpublished to this day!
The Wild Women’s Weekend
I went to the Wild Women’s Weekend [in May 1990], it was in a squatted former council housing benefit office in Brixton, next to the George Canning pub [later Hobgoblin and now Hootenanny] and also unfortunately next to Brixton’s rather anonymous Tory headquarters. It doesn’t have the name on it - they wouldn’t dare, just a bit of blue paint. I think it was them who were instrumental in eventually getting the place shut down. It was this lesbian squat for quite a while, well not exclusively lesbian but quite lesbian.
All that dyke scene in Brixton did dissolve fairly quickly in the 1990s because the squatting laws got harsher, and all the gentrification started and Brixton just became too hard and too expensive to live in, but at the time that squat was a fantastic achievement. The Wild Women’s Weekend was absolutely amazing, women coming from all round the country and probably abroad as well. There were loads of workshops, sort of practical workshops like bike maintenance, lots of discussion groups, and obviously good parties in the evening. That was a very fine achievement.
Bad Attitude
A couple of years on I got Bad Attitude together, it was really me that motivated it because I was still sort of hankering after the days of Outwrite because I so admired their international news perspective, and I thought ‘we need that”. We went through quite an arduous process of fundraising for it, galvanizing a collective, sending out loads of letters appealing for people to take out advance subscriptions and we managed to buy ourselves this tiny apple mac to lay it out on. Shocking Pink had folded by that point, and Bad Attitude took on the office and took on some other people involved. We had Vanida, and Sam my old flat mate, Rosanne and lots of other people who came and went'.
(The loose transcript above doesn't completely follow the audio interview here as it was edited from a number of different taped conversations).
Bad Attitude was a London-based radical women's newspaper that ran from 1992 to 1997. It was put together by a group of women (mostly friends of mine) operating for much of this time from an office in the anarchist squat centre at 121 Railton Road, Brixton. The paper was an ambitious project, aiming for high production values and international coverage while having no funding and no paid staff. Unsurprisingly it eventually ran out of steam but not before many great interviews, news stories and other articles.
The story of Bad Attitude is told in some documents in the 56a infoshop archive, which also has a collection of the paper. The first document is a letter promoting Bad Attitude to potential sellers (bookshops etc). It promises that it will be 'wicked, witty and wild' and 'will inherit and expand the success of Shocking Pink and Feminaxe - members of the collective worked on both these publications... with a mission to overthrow civilisation as we know it Bad Attitude will put blander publications in the shade'. Distribution was handled by Central Books, originally set up in the 1930s to distribute Communist Party publications.
Five years and eight issues later the collective issued a 'Bye Bye Bad Attitude' letter to subscribers.
'BA brought a class struggle, anti-state approach to feminism that is scarce in any nationally distributed publication, and we managed to have few laughs along the way. It was something worth fighting for! But life is change and the core of BA members have moved on in different ways — in some cases, out of London. Lack of enough money and lack of energy have re-inforced each other, though our low overheads have enabled us to carry on longer than others.
Most imporant, we're feeling the knock-on effect of changes in the benefits system. It's no easy to sign on, keep going with the odd earner on the side and devote yourself virtually full-time to a project like BA. With wage cuts, pressure on low-rent housing and squatting and all the other survival hassles, it's also become more difficult to live on part-time employment. This has made it difficult to find new collective members who can make the commitment to a regular publication on the scale of BA... Still for the overthrow of civilisation as we know it'
The group hoped that others would pick up the torch and with this in mind they 'How to produce a feminist magazine or how we did BA' with various practical points and 'advice from burnt-out baddies': 'Don't be over-ambitious. When we started as a bi-monthly. we roughly kept to schedule for a year. We also got ill! In retrospect. this sense of burn-out hung over the rest of the time we published. even as we went to quarterly. to bi-annual. to....non-existent. It's better to start off with a publishing schedule you know you can stick to without giving up the rest of your life.
At the same time, photocopies won't get the word out. Printing an attractive. well-produced publication makes it more accessible to those who don't already have a determined mission to read extremist tracts. And remember partially-sighted women will be interested too in what you've got to say. Try and get as many people as possible involved from the very beginning. We started off as a group of five or six, with the idea of involving more women when we published. But women coming in often didn't feel quite the same commitment. even though we tried to work out ways of including new volunteers. When we were overstretched we got stuck. We didn't have enough women to work regularly and train new volunteers which made it difficult for new women to get involved. which meant we didn't enough of us to open the office. put out the paper and train volunteers...and so on'.
Bad Attitude benefit party during Hackney Anarchy Week 1996, held at the Factory Squat in Stoke Newington (more details of the Week at Radical History of Hackney)
Bad Attitude stall at Pride, Brockwell Park, 1993 - with Rosanne Rabinowitz (left) and Katy Watson
An account of violence against women in the vicinity of feminist discos 'in the South London area' in 1977. Slightly frustrating for a South London based historian that there are no details of the location or venues, but I guess the point is this was happening in many places.
Source is Women's Voice, August 1977. The women's magazine of the Socialist Workers Party was controversially closed down by the Party leadership in 1981 as it sought to centralise its control.
Charlotte Brontë (1816-1855) and Alexander Trocchi (1925-1984) might not seem to have too much in common as writers, but I wonder whether the famous passage in Jane Eyre about the 'millions in silent revolt' might have influenced Trocchi's coining of the phrase 'invisible insurrection of a million minds'?
Of course Bronte's version has a more proto-feminist slant - it is the denial of agency to women that is her main point, though she does generalise to the 'masses of life which people earth'. Trocchi's appeal is to those who he sees involved in a diffuse cultural revolt: 'the cultural revolt must seize the grids of expression and the powerhouses of the mind... The cultural revolt is the necessary underpinning, the passionate substructure of a new order of things'. But in both there is this sense of a simmering insurgent intelligence.
'It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquillity: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth. Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags'. (Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre, 1847)
Bronte in 1854
'Invisible Insurrection of a Million Minds...What is to be seized - and I address that one million (say) here and there who are capable of perceiving at once just what it is that I am about, a million potential "technicians" - is ourselves. What must occur, now, today, tomorrow, in those widely dispersed but vital centres of experience, is a revelation. At the present time, in what is often thought of as an age of the mass, we tend to fall into the habit of regarding history and evolution as something which goes relentlessly on, quite without our control. The individual has a profound sense of his own impotence as he realizes the immensity of the forces involved. We, the creative ones everywhere, must discard this paralytic posture and seize control of the human process by assuming control of ourselves. We must reject the conventional fiction of "unchanging human nature." There is in fact no such permanence anywhere. There is only becoming' (Alexandre Trocchi, Invisible Insurrection of a Million Minds, first published in the Scottish journal New Saltire in 1962 and then as 'Technique du coupe du monde' in Internationale Situationniste #8, January 1963).
Girl Germsis a 'feminist not-for-profit club night that showcases women-fronted bands' with their next night coming up on April 27 2013 (8 pm - 2 am) at Power Lunches.
We're super excited about the lineup this time. The Wharves blend taut rhythms and guitars with gorgeous, reverb-heavy harmonies to create instant ear-worms. Shopping are made up of members of some of our favourite bands: Trash Kit, Wetdog and Cover Girl. The result is as urgent and melodic as you'd expect from these DIY veterans. Skinny Girl Diet describe themselves as a 'fierce girl gang from London'. Everett True describes them as 'Gothic, grunge AND teen female.' A goth/grunge, fierce teen girl gang is what Girl Germs' dreams are made of. Your new favourite band.
We choose a charity or organisation each time to receive the money we take on the door. This time, we are fundraising for the Feminist Library, an incredible archive of material relating to the women's liberation movement which supports research, activism and community projects.
Girl Germs was partly born out of frustration. We were sick of having to dance to songs all about male-angst, or that referred to women only as objects to be abused or put up on pedestal. We also wanted to meet people who felt the same way as us - people who we could collaborate with, dance with, take part in activism with, and enjoy cake with.
This weekend is the last chance to see 'A Bigger Splash: Painting after Performance' at Tate Modern in London. The exhibition 'looks at the dynamic relationship between painting and performance since the 1950s'. I must admit in places the connections seem rather tenuous, but who cares when there is this much iconic radical/feminist/queer film, photography and painting in one space.
Sanja Ivekovic, Make-Up Make-Down (1978) - the film features the make up ritual to a soundtrack that includes 'Fly Robin Fly' by Silver Convention.
Yayoi Kusama, from 'Flower Orgy', 1968
Zsuzsanna Ujj, With a Throne, 1986
Gunter Brus walking through Vienna in 1965 painted white with a black stripe down his face and front - for which he was arrested
Luigi Ontani as San Sebastiano, 1976
Valie Export, Identity Transfer 3, 1968
Modelling dresses with fabric printed by Pinot Gallizio's Situationist 'industrial painting' process, 1958
The second part of the show features contemporary installations - inevitably they lack the subversive charge of the earlier work, products of an age in which art's shock value has seemingly been exhausted, and in which the creative gestures that erupted outside of the academy have now been safely domesticated in the 21st century gallery. But I enjoyed the dream space room of Karen Kilmnik's Swan Lake (1992).
On Valentine's Day last week, there were flashmob dances and similar actions in at least 190 countries as part of One Billion Rising, a call to 'strike, dance, rise' and 'SAY NO to violence against women and girls':
'One in three woman on the planet will be raped or beaten in her lifetime.... One billion women violated is an atrocity. ONE BILLION WOMEN DANCING IS A REVOLUTION.
On V-Day's 15th Anniversary, Feb-14-2013, we are inviting one billion women and those who love them to WALK OUT, DANCE, RISE UP and DEMAND an end to this violence. ONE BILLION RISING will move the earth, activating women and men across every country. V-Day wants the worlds to see our collective strengths, our numbers, our solidarity across borders. Join V-Day and ONE BILLION RISING today and SAY NO to violence against women and girls'.
'It's our bodies that are violated. It's our bodies that are politicized and subjected to laws about what we can or can't cover or how we can or can't reproduce or what our families should look like.It's our bodies that are blamed for the harm that comes to us, when we're told that we were hurt because we're too tempting, too sexual, too ugly, too loud, too easy, too feminine, too manly, too vulnerable. It's our bodies that too often feel like the enemy, when our own self-worth is worn down by cultural myths that we're too fat, too dark, too poor, too awkward, too shy, too sexy, too female, too masculine, too strong, too weak, too big, too little.
And so it's with our bodies that we should act. When our bodies have been politicized, targeted and defined for us, there's power in the simple enjoyment of that body. When women are supposed to be small and inoffensive, taking up public space is a radical act. It's unladylike. Dance, OBR reminds us, is both free and freeing. Will dance save the world? Of course not. And it certainly won't end violence against women. But any worldwide movement that focuses on the appalling levels of violence that women face and crafts a national day of action to push back against that violence is fine with me'.
And the biggest news story on that day? Another woman killed by her boyfriend. In Pretoria, 'No Killing of Women and Children' featured on another protest a few days later - outside the court where Oscar Pistorious was accused of the murder of Reeva Steenkamp.
A while back I posted about the death of Katy Watson, feminist, Brixtonite, and radical (among many other things). Sad news today from my friend Roseanne of the death of somebody else from that scene:
'With great sadness I’m writing to let people know about the death of Jill Allott, a former stalwart of Brixton squatting and a wonderful friend. Jill died last Friday on 6 January from a secondary brain tumour, though she had fought off two earlier bouts of cancer. She was surrounded by family and friends.
Some of you might know Jill from the 80s and the 90s in Brixton, where she lived on Brailsford and Arlingford Roads, Sandmere Road, Brixton Water Lane and Mervan Road. Like many women involved in squatting communities, Jill trained in a manual trade and became an electrician. She generously shared her skills and knowledge, whether in Brixton or further afield when she trained women electricians in Nicaragua. Later, she studied to become a Shiatsu practitioner. She was always helping people – opening squats, wiring up houses, giving Shiatsu treatments or simply being there as a friend.
Jill was also a talented drummer who played in bands such as the Sluts from Outer Space and Los Lasses. She loved a good party, especially if it involved dancing to reggae. Her birthday parties were among the best in Brixton.
The Sluts from Outer Space (late 80s), with Jill on drums
In the late 1990s she moved to Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire. She had two children – Corinne and Finley – and continued to play an active part in communities there. Always a fighter, Jill helped form a support and action network for women affected by cancer. She worked as a Shiatsu practitioner in projects offering treatment to drug users and women facing health and mental health problems.
Many people through the years have known Jill and loved her. Our lives and struggles have taken us many places and scatter us throughout the world; often we move on and lose touch. But hopefully everyone who was close to Jill will read this, share our sadness but also celebrate the life of a great friend, activist and mother'
Las Lassies - Jill bottom left
I didn't know Jill very well personally - she was more of a friend of a friend in my Brixton days - but like many people around at the time I can say 'Thanks for fixing my electricity Jill'.
[photos by Jill's friends from Roseanne's facebook wall - hope that's OK]
This site celebrates the pleasures of the night, the possibilities of nocturnal encounters on the dancefloor, the sense of liberation in the hours not ruled by work. But of course music/dance scenes are not utopias, specifically they are not always places where women can leave behind harrassment, rape and violence - a point highlighted by the gang rape of a 16 year old at a rave in Canada in September and the rapes at Latitude Festival in England in July.
In her remarkable piece The Night and Danger, orginally written as a speech for a Take Back the Night march, Andrea Dworkin wrote:
'We women are especially supposed to be afraid of the night. The night promises harm to women. For a woman to walk on the street at night is not only to risk abuse, but also--according to the values of male domination--to ask for it. The woman who transgresses the boundaries of night is an outlaw who breaks an elementary rule of civilized behavior: a decent woman does not go out- certainly not alone, certainly not only with other women--at night. A woman out in the night, not on a leash, is thought to be a slut or an uppity bitch who does not know her place. The policemen of the night - rapists and other prowling men -have the right to enforce the laws of the night: to stalk the female and to punish her. We have all been chased, and many of us have been caught... We must use our collective strength and passion and endurance to take back this night and every night so that life will be worth living and so that human dignity will be a reality'
Since the mid-1970s, women in different parts of the world have staged Reclaim the Night/Take Back the Night demonstrations against violence against women - not simply protests but an assertion of the right to be safely on the streets after dark. London Feminist Network have been organising larger and larger annual marches since 2004, and in in central London last Saturday night around 2000 women took part in the Reclaim the Night march. There's a report at Women's Views on News.
Lydia is a New Cross-based feminist zinester, blogger (see her Swimsuit Issue) and co-promoter of Girl Germs - 'a grrrl-tastic night of music, zines, cakes and dancing. We’ll be playing le tigre, Bratmobile, Sleater-Kinney, The Slits, The Kills, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Bikini Kill, M.I.A. and plenty of other amazing tunes by amazing grrrls' (see their facebook or twitter).
1. Can you remember your first experience of dancing?
As a baby, I used to pull myself up using the sofa arm and jig about the Top of the Pops whilst my parents were watching it, but I was too young and I don't remember doing it. I've just cringed at the photographic evidence. At about 3/4, I started ballet lessons. I remember galumphing about, in my pink outfit that made me look like a marchmallow, and waving a scarf around. I loved it, and carried on with the lessons until I was 11 and I realised I would never make it as a ballerina because I have funny knees.
2. What’s the most interesting/significant thing that has happened to you while out dancing?
Probably realising that the person I was with at the time, was an absolutely appalling human being that I needed to get rid of as soon as possible, which I did. Weirdly, it took seeing his reaction to having glowstick juice accidentally being flicked into his eye to make me see this.
3. You. Dancing. The best of times…
I'm torn, on this one. Two occasions come to mind. One would be playing Bikini Kill's 'Rebel Girl' with my friend Laura at our clubnight, Girl Germs. We were thrashing about at the decks and everybody there was jumping around and screaming the words. Awesome. More recently, dancing to 'Y Control' at a Yeah Yeah Yeahs gig before Christmas. I consider it a bit of a theme tune for me, and I always end up crying whilst stomping about to it. Hearing it live was incredible.
4. You. Dancing. The worst of times… Probably the same as a lot of women really. Having a letchy man grab hold me whilst I'm just trying to have fun with my friends. One particularly obnoxious fellow hooked his fingers through my belt-loops so that I couldn't escape from him. It was disgusting, and quite frightening while it lasted.
5. Can you give a quick tour of the different dancing scenes/times/places you’ve frequented? I can't give a very good answer to this question I don't think. I grew up in Bedford, and there was only one place to go out if you were a self-conscious indie kid, and that was The Pad. They played all the indie disco hits and my friends would always end up pulling some boy who wanted to be Julian Casablancas or Connor Oberst. I used to come down to London for gigs a lot before I moved here. I went to see NME darlings, The Others about a million times and made lots of friends through that scene. Looking back the music was terrible, but we had so much fun together. I even met my boyfriend at an Others gig at The Old Blue Last, which is pretty embarrassing! When I moved here, I initially played it safe, frequenting indie hang-puts like White Heat and Durrr. I don't drink though, so I often found myself feeling a bit left out at these studenty nights. I briefly got into the fashion-obsessed scene around Boombox which was based at Hoxton Bar and Kitchen, but I didn't have the time, the money, or really the inclination to pour myself into a PVC outfit and headdress every time I went dancing!
6. When and where did you last dance? I last danced at the Amersham Arms in New Cross. It was a night called Bad Seed run by a friend and I had so much fun. I think it's going to be a regular thing there, great if you love garage rock and soul, which I do!
7. You’re on your death bed. What piece of music would make your leap up for one final dance?
Probably 'Y Control' by Yeah Yeah Yeahs again. It's not my favourite song in the world, but it always makes me feel pretty powerful. And I'd like to feel powerful in the face of death.
Photos above: from Girl Germs, October 2009.
The next Girl Germs is an Anti-Valentine's night on Saturday 13th February, at the Camden Head, 100 Camden High Street, London. £3 in, 9:00 pm start.
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