Jamie Davies

Vinegar Syndrome is the leading name in archiving weird, wild, and under-appreciated cinema from yesteryear. It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it. It’s not uncommon for groups to reclaim words or phrases, bestowing them with new, empowering sets of connotations. ‘Vinegar syndrome’ is one such phrase for film buffs, referring to the unmistakable waft of vinegar given off by decaying cellulose acetate film stock. In other words, vinegar syndrome is the smell of dying film. Where it used

Taking a tour around London’s Day of the Dead festival

The next generation of non-alcoholic drinks are here, and they promise to end hangovers, revolutionise drinking culture and save lives. Head pounding, skin clammy, thoughts cloudy: if any experience could emulate the feeling of being stuffed with steel wool, a hangover would be it. It’s not a surprise that hangovers are so uniquely unpleasant. Alcohol is literally a poison, one that, according to the World Health Organisation, is behind three million deaths each year. Pick an organ and you ca

After a post-communism slump, Bulgarian wine is making its big UK comeback

There’s an electricity that courses through a man before he’s put to the test. It’s the look of a sprinter waiting for the starting gun, a warrior before his final stand, a skydiver ready to leap at 30,000 feet. Intensely focused, it represents a lifetime of preparation converging on a single moment. Of all the places I’d expect to see that look, a cleaning convention at London’s ExCeL Centre was not it. Yet from a far corner of The Cleaning Show 2023 conference hall, I could see Terry ‘Turbo’

Attention spans have never been shorter, so why is the slow and patient world of tabletop gaming more popular than ever? Everyone likes comparing themselves to animals. Some think of themselves as a ruthless shark; others prefer embodying the excitable labrador. I know what I am: a goldfish. Between algorithmically addicting apps like TikTok, the burden of a constantly updating email inbox and the everpresent temptation of the multi-screen entertainment setup, my attention span has hit such low

Got enough cash to smother a whale and the ability to ignore merciless gentrification? Battersea Power Station could be your new go-to retail therapy spot. Battersea Power Station. It’s an icon, a brick cathedral beast. If it was a music genre, it’d be gothic metal, or whatever genre Darth Vader’s theme counts as. Even after closing in 1983, the station has stood firm in the public consciousness, largely thanks to continued failed attempts to revive it—most interestingly as a theme park and lat

With councils failing to tackle the UK’s sewage crisis, dedicated volunteers are pulling on waders and picking up the slack. Vicky walks along the bank of the Pymmes Brook with a box full of clinking glass vials. Stopping briefly, she stares into the water before crouching low and filling one with murky brown water. Making a note in her log, she places it back amongst its clinking companions. Vicky isn’t a scientist, nor is she crazy: she’s a Pymmes Brooker, a sworn guardian of London’s natura