Dear Readers,
Good afternoon and welcome back to Off The Fence, a newsletter that laughs, and then cries twice as much later. This week we are sallying forth into Issue 30, but this does not mean we have forgotten the lengths of our achievements in Issue 29. We are, in fact, bursting with #Pride for it.
The photos continue to rollllllll up for judgement in our offices, and once again we find them invariably to be good, excellent in fact. It stopped off to pose with (and indeed mogg) some otherwise good friends before mounting a fount for good measure. Having busied itself in urban settings, it proceeded to restore a sense of inner balance with visits to nature. First the flora, adorning a publican’s flower arrangement, then the fauna, with a quick visit to entertain Sid the Cat.
Lovely images all, though we must admit not quite as heartwarming as the lovely praise 29 continues to get. Molesworth in particular continues to jenerate lafter, and the unstoppable Jimmy McIntosh’s trip to Great Yarmouth has been rightly praised for actually looking at and discussing the place itself, rather than tripping over a web of self-made preconceptions. More on that later. Elsewhere, we were shocked to be accused of editorial excellence by a Mr Henning Hoff, to the point of refusing thanks. But thanks anyway Henning.
But the nicest thing of all was this little gobbet of praise in Lauren Sherman’s fashion newsletter.
This really is the shout-out of dreams, and a reminder that you really do need to subscribe now – we are a minute operation with big dreams that are somehow being steadily realised.
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Another reminder that if you’d like to take an advert with us, you can email the editor at cb@the-fence.com and he will attend to you there.
So all swims merrily as the rain falls on our heads! Do keep sending in wonderful photos of the magazine on our socials or to editorial@the-fence.com. For the best of the latter we offer a delicious bottled prize, for the former, our sincere thanks and a little coy giggle.
But, to arms! The week’s events call. We’re going to be pumping up this newsletter for the foreseeable, taking it back to its 2024 era of two tons and more of sweet sweet gossip and intrigue. This time round we’ve got news about London’s fiercest cultural critic and pay some brief visits to old friends and enemies. Shiellllllld wall!
Dat Guy Welbz
Cormac Kehoe and Miles Ellingham may no longer be a byline duo, but the work they did for The Fence lives on, especially their excellent profile of the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby. Apart from the former Prince Andrew, has any establishment figure who has been disgraced so publicly in recent years?
After leaving Lambeth Palace, Welby attempted to rejoin his old club, the Travellers, but was viciously blackballed. After suffering the same fate at another club – which will remain nameless – we hear that Welby can now be found is now to be found dominating the balcony at the National Liberal Club on a daily basis, very much that hoariest of stereotypes: the Club Bore.
Lowe Blow
Jimmy McIntosh has gone far and wide in the fine name of The Fence – from Poundbury to Hayes and Canning Town through to Kensington – and in Issue 29 you will find our pints correspondent has added a behemoth to the list, Great Yarmouth. The coastal town is part of a trend of faded British seaside resorts being bulldozed by the schemes of far-right poster boys, gracing news cycles with increasing frequency since becoming the Restore party’s only parliamentary seat. Taking in nine boozers, one hen and a mythical £3.30 pint, McIntosh tours respectable crawl of establishments dotted across Rupert Lowe’s constituency, and, among other things, wonders if the ethno-nationalist MP has ever been inside one of them.
Justice for Joe
It’s always a pleasure to see our articles take on a ‘second wind’ some time after publication, and James Riding’s piece on the unexplained death of Joe Deacy is one such example. Last week, a new witness came forward, and it seems like the Deacy family might now receive a proper explanation for how their son came to die on a tarmacked driveway in the west of Ireland. You can read the piece here.
Carousel King
A big shout-out to our favourite nonagenarian Instagram user, John Outram, who is still pulling up trees on IG, and still looking pretty ridiculously handsome for someone born in the dog days of the British Empire. No real news to peg this to – we’re just rating what John is putting out there. The same can’t be said for avowed Luddite and self-evident social media addict, Hugh Corcoran, who is once again posting some elite-tier cringe.
Dating Goals
Another week, another period drama starring Florence Pugh. This one is a John Steinbeck adaptation, his multi-generational family saga East of Eden, and is, some might have noticed, ‘presented by Hinge’. Now putting aside why Hinge might want to be associated with this particular romantic tale, we are, of course, enjoying how mad this is.
It led us to think about the deep canon of insane brand partnerships and film promos. Gossip Girl is remembered for its liberal, frankly incessant, product placement, from search engines – ‘why don’t you just Bing it?’ sadly never caught on – to Vitaminwater, a plug so insanely pervasive it now has its own cult following. In a starry turn for the West Midlands, Wolverhampton train station was briefly rebranded Wolverine in line with a partnership between X-Men: Days of Future Past and Virgin Trains, changing all 65 station signs for a single day. Other highlights were the Hovis half & half Wicked: For Good loaf, The Little Mermaid Fish Nuggets and TheNightmare on Elm Street toaster?
Some of these deals have even had a surprisingly philanthropic turn – the entire Saw franchise in partnership with American Red Cross saw 120,00 pints of blood being donated over its first several years and the Hunger Games collaboration with Whole Foods enabled a dollar from every ‘Courage For One’ juice sold to fund global anti-poverty micro-credits at their associated non-profit. Some have been somewhat less altruistic, such as the Army National Guard’s ‘Soldier of Steel’ recruitment campaign in 2013 for the release of the DC Comic film Man of Steel – encouraging sign-ups by associating the heroism of Superman with citizen-soldiers in a $10 million multimedia campaign.
Comparably, Hinge and Netflix’s latest venture may not seem that strange, and actually really quite successful… we seem to have played right into their hands here.
Frozen Out
Readers of Capital Letter – which really should be all of you – will know about our favourite London culture vulture: Helen Prior. For those not in the loop, she is an acerbic Ukrainian woman with a passionate distaste for any modern art, a love for Reform and a habit of loudly reviewing plays while the actors are doing their bows. It’s incredible content.
But she has recently run into hot water. Last week, she was stalking the ground of Frieze and, unsurprisingly, hating almost everything she saw. And then, Frieze banned her. Another win for London’s coolest art fair.
Doing the Work
The reviews for Edward Enninful’s show at the Tate Britain have not been positive – somehow the erstwhile stylist has pivoted to magazine editor to museum curator to media magnate – but one insider tells us that Enninful did no meaningful work for the show, leaving the institution’s archivists to go through the storage and divine what Enninful’s vision would be.
#BertieBrandes
Seeing the issue in a hashtaggable location got us thinking about other hashtaggable offences we have committed in recent times. Bertie Brandes was a prime suspect in Issue 20 when she confessed to her vaunted role as a Female Incel: ‘You’ve already picked up this magazine, so it’s clear you fancy yourself as something of a non-conformist…’ Bertie continues her drive-by crimes in the latest issue, too. Pick up a copy to see what all the fuss online has been about.
Kil-Bots
A new film is coming out and it stars an AI-resurrected version of Val Kilmer. It is spooky stuff. Don’t get us wrong, the film looks terrible and the acting is stiff, but not quite as stiff as we would like. If you watch closely, Val is continuously blessed and then deprived of a nice little cheek mole, his eyes are, of course, dead, and there are a lot of quick cuts which feel like they may have been used to drag the avatar uncomfortable with the long-take across the line. But beyond that, there’s nothing screamingly horrendous, bar the slow disquiet we all feel at watching something that looks crisp but feels off.
Is it time to end acting? Probably not, SAG-AFTRA is still pretty beefy and no one likes the idea bar penny-counting execs. Still, we long for the days, just under a year ago, where AI acting was much, much more memorable. Anyone got the number of a good genie re-bottler?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEbqJj2hIjg
Merge and Restructure
Condé Nast’s profits have slumped by more than a third in its UK operations this year. The publisher houses GQ, Vanity Fair and Tatler, as well as British Vogue. The drop in profits follows the group’s sale of Vogue House, its UK headquarters, and a costly recent restructuring. It’s not a particularly rosy vision of print’s future, but, on the other hand, we’re a bit sick of the naysayers and haters. In Issue 26, we asked the people behind the curtain if print really was dead. The short answer is no. The longer answer is a little more ambivalent. As Jo Ellison of HTSI put it: ‘There were too many executives in the early noughties who were too in love with print to make the necessary evolutions.’ Kill your darlings, darlings.
Love on the Interweb
The number of dating apps continue to proliferate, including one for vegetarians and vegans. Presumably the vegetarians are the less popular of the two groups. We have yet to look into user analytics. We’re a little jaded, as we have been around long enough to know that dating apps for insufferable people is no new development. Back Issue 10, Juno Kelly wrote a riveting insider account of being one of the select few people to join the hallowed swiping corridor of Raya. A cocky businessman with doggish intentions was the result: ‘When I arrived, he was already drunk, having been in “meetings” at the locale all day. He proceeded to tell me that he “normally only dates Russian models”, and “never sees the same girl twice”.’ Perhaps Andrew Marr was right, after all.
In Case You Missed It
Postcard collector asks the hard questions.
Toru Utsumi, Japan’s dancing salaryman.
Gregg Wallace wants to make AI films about Sweeney Todd.
You couldn’t invent Andrew Edmunds.
For those undecided, NAZA is a brutal but important film to watch.
The making of All the President’s Men.
And Finally
Long-time readers of this newsletter will know that we will always be big fans of the late art critic, Brian Sewell, who produced truly startling content – and that is the right word for it – towards the end of his life. In this clip, Sewell, spoke to Matthew Stadlen in a five-minute interview, during which Stadhlen held a comically large clock and forgot how to describe a person who draws. ‘The word you’re looking for is draughtsman,’ purrs Sewell.
What is Sewell’s favourite museum? Doesn’t have one. Who is his favourite artist? Raphael. What is art? Doesn’t know. His soft and wry answers are incredibly appealing. And he’s amazingly clear-eyed and cogent on conceptual art. ‘I like conceptual art so long as the concept is fine [...] What I resent is the kind of thing where [they] put together a carrot and rubber glove and expect either the spectator or the curator to give it meaning.’ He leans back and juts out his long upper lip… he really was an icon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5EFJ_rpSAa4
So with a heavy heart we give a fond farewell once more. As the weather gets worse and worse, do make sure you at least have the friendly companionship of The Fence to hand. Our prices are reasonable, our copy is excellent.
We do hope you enjoyed this particular mail-out. If you’ve been having any issues with the mag, let us know on support@the-fence.com, otherwise we’re reachable on editorial@the-fence.com. Scotland’s official national animal is the unicorn.
All the best,
TF