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Lost in Space
Back to the Future
Diane Abbott Writes
Festival News
Martin Rowson
News in brief
Wheels on Fire
Latest Edition
Write On
Straight to the Point
Potty Training
Eating Thai
Vinyl Frontier
Going Private
Glenn Thompson
Arts Stuff
Drama in Dalston
Room for Jazz
Surfing N16
Shot in the Park
Feeling Lucky?
Lapdancing on Stilts
Man in the North Bank
Crossword
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Issue 10
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Issue 8

Totty Talk

By Grabrielle Starkey

p27

Apparently, my last article for this magazine caused much hrrmphing and tossing of manes among the stallions of Stoke Newington. What on earth was I thinking, complaining about Stokey's lack of male totty when god-like apparitions like themselves were ready to sweep me off my feet? I have to say 'apparently' because although I had loads of people coming up and telling me that they'd heard someone complaining about what I'd written, not a single letter or email made its way to N16 mag (not quite: see letters (ed)), which I'm frankly very disappointed about.

I must admit, I was a bit harsh - but it's amazing what frustration can do to a girl. I was all bitter and twisted due to a disappointing summer of no love, and familiarity with Stokey's small number of decent haunts had turned to contempt. But I'm happy to say that I've noticed a definite improvement in all areas. Suddenly, eligible single men seem to be everywhere. If it was practical, I'd advise every girl looking to bag a decent bloke to write an article about the fact that there are none about - it lures them out with all the magic of a snake charmer's pipe. Maybe it's something to do with men's love of a challenge? Whichever way, my love life has improved immeasurably obviously, there's not room to thank you all personally here, but I'm very grateful, guys.

There's always a chance, though, that it's nothing to do with my article; it could be just a change in the weather. I have a theory that autumn, being the mirror image of spring, is the time when people get together for money, not love. The sap is failing, nights are drawing in and what could be nicer than settling in for the long, cold winter with a warm cuddle and the guarantee of at least one big, shiny present at Christmas? Cynical it may be, but you watch how many of your single mates start pairing off as the Santas go up.

And in Stokey, it's also the season for my favourite game - Spot the Stupid Hat. The best time for it is while playing pool upstairs in the Tup on a Sunday afternoon, where you have a fine view over Church Street and its attendant fashion crimes. My favourites have to be the idiculous knitted ones with ear-flaps, and the brighter the better. And it's not only in the men hat my friends and I have noticed an mprovement (did I mention that the apparent pulling-up of socks on the desirable men front has had a beneficial knock-on effect for them?).

A welcome new, groovy bar has opened recently in Stokey. Although I've only managed to visit it on a couple of occasions, the refurbished Bird Cage - on the corner of Stamford Hill Road and Windus Road - looks very promising for swanky cocktails, good music and general good times. With any luck, by Christmas I'll have found the man of my dreams - I could really do with a new bike.

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