#Soho Trends

[msclaritea]

The worst thing in life is to end up with people that make you feel all alone.

—Robin Williams

You... spineless, feces smelling, subhuman pieces of shit. Now, I get why Robin Williams was suddenly trending during the same time that the Team Z/Harvey Weinstein Network was spamming all of those threats against Benedict, and it had happened before. It wasn't to rub it in, about Williams' depression, or SUPPOSED depression. It was because Robin was murdered.

This man was a TREASURE to millions, including myself; demons be damned. He was beautiful, inside AND out. He sold your fucking Muppets, your loveable space aliens, that pedo, Walt Whitman. He even had one of the earliest films to feature a Trans Identified Male.

Still not good enough, eh? I'm livid enough, right now, to want to do all of you some serious fucking damage.

[kourt-wants-a-pager]

Movie Review: Last Night In Soho (13/10)

hiii so basically yesterday i decided to watch this movie due to one tumblr post i found of Pearl (from Pearl, the X trilogy movies) and Sandie and also i really love Anya Taylor-Joy's acting.

[SPOILERS ahead!!! i will be talking about the movie's plot so keep that in mind]

[Also TW: SA]

the movie has to be one of my favorites, i really love the fashion and the cinematography of the whole film, it's a really gorgeous production. The scenes with that '60s glam are literally eyecandy. i also really loved the choreography elements in some scenes. the whole thing with the mirrors was genuinely so peculiar and entertaining to me, especially when Ellie broke the mirror while screaming "Look at me". speaking of Ellie, Thomasin McKenzie did an amazing job at portraying her character, Ellie feels like someone you would actually meet in real life. I also really like how Eloise didn't help the men who literally assaulted Sandie. In general I really liked the scene where Sandie explicitly says "They deserved it." and Ellie agreeing. I really loved that scene due to how that's literally so truthful and how Sandie (and every other girl who was also entertaining those bastards) didn't deserve any of that. Sandie is probably one of my favorite fictional characters, similarly to Pearl. Both of them just wanted to follow their dreams and become the stars that they also wanted to be. Sandie's monologue to Ellie was also one of the best scenes I've ever seen. Diana Rigg (the talented actress who played Senior Sandie) absolutely delivered that speech and I still feel so sad about Sandie dying in the fire. What I really love about the ending is that technically we don't even know if it was real or fabricated, since Ellie could have not survived. We don't really know that. I also really love the soundtrack, Anya Taylor-Joy delivered with her covers of 'You're My World' and 'Downtown". The scene where Senior Sandie is trying to stab Ellie while 'You're My World' plays and we get to see young Sandie 'perform' is literally peak cinematography.

So overall I really enjoyed this movie and it's definitely one of my favorite movies ever. Everything about this movie is genuinely perfection and it really resonated me with it. I rated the movie a 13/10 'cause I can.

[the-chemistry-side-of]

Intro to Networking

Here I will cover some basic terminology of networks. These definitions will be consistent throughout all computer networking. Small Office/Home Office (SOHO) networks are contained within a small building and have printers, computers, and other connected devices. Medium networks are contained within a larger office spaces. These two are covered under the concept of the Local Area Network…

[roseband]

has anyone seen that rent stabilization case they're trying to push to the supreme court cuz i'm ready to punch some idiots

[extraaa-30]

just like Crowley calling Aziraphale "angel" was probably the start of that pet name

"Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide."

Aziraphale is older than modern gay culture. it has to be at least considered that he alone was the inspiration for everything camp

[manhattanfashionblog]

The Vivid Revival of the Samba: Trend on the Streets

March 10, 2023

The Three Stripes of Adidas on the Samba were first seen in the 1940s on soccer pitches with the Samba being the German brand's first soccer cleat designed for players to play on frozen grounds. However, the soccer field has now turned into the streets with influencers and everyone along the streets of SoHo and Flatiron commonly wearing the Samba — a minimal style featuring a rubber sole, and the Adidas signature three stripes constructed with a mix of leather and suede. Differently from last year, and to what soccer players wore and are wearing, the Samba's revival and comeback in 2023 is now immersed in color, hue, and vibrancy.

As seen on the streets, the Samba has returned and more vividly than ever before. The popularity of the sneaker was first ignited by trendsetters like Hailey Bieber, Bella Hadid, and Kendall Jenner, and it has now evolved to the streets with the sneaker being paired with baggy jeans, jean skirts, and cargo pants. The Samba though, has now shifted from the old black and white style to bright color styles with blues, pinks, and greens as the vintage aesthetic and classic heritage of the Samba with this new vibrancy combination serve to make it fresh, popular, and still a classic amongst all.

Soccer inspired fashion has made a strong comeback, and the Sambas are emphasizing this trend with them being seen all across social media and the streets around us. Colorful statement sneakers are the new style, and for now they are here to stay with the Samba.

Zuleica Prado

Fashion Creative Presentations

[svetlanaknezevicworld]

𝓝𝓮𝔀 𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓷... February 2023 #london #newlondon #soho #theatredistrict #mylife #myLondon #mybuildings #picofoftheday #architecture #athomeintheworld #dametraveler #interiors #traveldeeper #instamood #beauty #love #trending #stylediaries #fashionista #livingthedream #instafollow #passionpassport #lifeofawriter #lifeofaconsultant #makingtheimpossiblepossible #myworld🌎 (at Soho, London, England) https://www.instagram.com/p/CodQoxuM0KD/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sgiandubh]

He was at Three Sheets yesterday night with Ashley. Check their respective stories

Dear Three Sheets Anon,

Your information is correct. What I meant by 'nothing to do with Ashley Hearn' in my post is a bit different, though. Ashley has been in London for a while already, obviously for sales & marketing purposes. She clearly posted about it and even suggested she will be in Scotland soon. But she is not the reason he is in London these days. She already successfully toured several bar outlets by herself, using her own business contacts, in New York and elsewhere: meeting her boss while in London is absolutely normal and nothing to write home about. But not the main reason he is in London right now, I think.

So it would seem they met at the Three Sheets Bar, yesterday.

S's IG story:

[Later edit]: Ashley's IG story - too bad I interrupted myself to get a delivery and then lost this thread:

S tagged both the bar and SS's IG accounts. This is a routine business meeting, especially considering the Three Sheets also deals in business consulting:

They have two outlets in London, one in Dalston and the other in Soho. Both have excellent reviews and well, the expected price range for cocktails in London (10-20 £ ):

Your ask also gives me the opportunity to come forward with several things I have been keeping in my drawers for a while, so thank you for that. Kind of.

Remember (LOOOL and then some more for that, always) my through the grapevine info that C joined S and the team at Milady's bar in New York, on October 17 2024, after the Versace Armani event she attended with Maria McManus? I also remember the Without Pix Anon:

Well, I don't have 'pix' , but I do have the next best thing (gracias a ti, siempre ❤️):

Ashley liked what C posted on October 25, 2024. One full week after the Milady's get together - why would she, if C wasn't there at all, like all the Righteous Pundits lie to you?

She also briefly followed her on IG, but not anymore (why? I will let you draw your own conclusions), along with several OL cast members (followed all of them at the same moment, after the event): Rankin, John Bell and Skeleton. Bell and Skeleton were at that get together, too (unsure about Rankin? it's Saturday, after all and I am not the Metropolitan Police, either - please correct me if I am wrong). She still follows them on IG. Clearly they met there?

The second thing I wanted to bring along is Maximum Wobbler Bullshit's recent nonsense:

This impostor and mythomaniac I have repeatedly debunked in the past still has very scant English, negligent writing skills at best and no damn idea about what marketing means. She was completely triggered by this particular post, on November 5, 2024 (while almost everyone was looking elsewhere, for obvious reasons):

Featured in the pic is Mia Kumari, a good friend of Ashley Hearn. Maximum Wobbler Bullshit conveniently forgets to explain who Mia Kumari is:

Based in London, UK and currently mixing at the Satan's Whiskers bar in Bethnal Green (after a short spell at The Savoy, hello?), she is a well-known, up-and-coming bartender with a consistent record of awards:

The press is raving about her:

[Full article, here: https://foodism.co.uk/features/long-reads/women-london-bar-scene/]

She is also a feminist bartender, with an internationally praised agenda:

[Mia was last week in Greece, as guest speaker at the very prestigious Athens' Bar Week. Too bad I left: I would have certainly bought a ticket and gladly listened to what she had to say - https://www.athensbarshow.gr/guest-speakers/mia-kumari]

Surely a trailblazer 'in London’s dynamic and globally revered bar industry', who also is 'an advocate for equality, diversity and inclusion' does not need Sassenach Spirits to promote herself. She is doing a smashing job at it, like the pro she clearly is: on trend, progressive, sought after and more than noticed. I fail to see where the fuck the alleged cronyism is, because that would simply mean Mia Kumari is a social zero, a nobody in the UK's spirits industry, taking advantage of her friendship with Ashley Hearn in order to get more attention for her sole benefit. That is a lie and that is simply wrong: if anything, it is Sassenach Spirits that needed to prominently feature someone like Mia Kumari, in order to align itself to the values she is so actively promoting (all values C is sensitive to, hmmm). We are miles away, here, from the Cutty Sark wannabe (in)famous Labour Day boat party in Marina del Rey, featuring the BBC/Blue Bikini Chick, back in September 2023 (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/727347023165145088/its-all-fake-anyway), when all the fandom trolls were on fire. So, Sassenach Spirits needed to do exactly something along these lines, in order to promote and boost the seasonal Xmas sales of their tartan scarves, SS's most expensive merch, targeting a younger, more sophisticated urban crowd.

Clever brands constantly redefine themselves, looking for the right trends and the right crowds to promote their products to. This is a clear sign that finally adults are in the room, now, at SS's Marketing and Sales respective departments. So damn glad to see this welcome shift!

[herejusttosufferalong]

i think people are reading way too much into jvn’s tiktoks. brat dance is super popular right now and has been trending. alot of people were doing it. the nose job video about soho: still have no idea how that’s him being shady towards A specifically. in his next vid he was just eating a salad y’all come on. the vid after that he asked what was with all the salad comments. he clearly doesn’t know what’s being talked about and tbh it’s embarrassing bringing it to N’s friends pages. please stop

.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

If you look at the trademark application for American Riviera Orchard, you’ll see that she’s trademarking it through a newly registered in Delaware company called Mama Knows Best, LLC.

Infact when you dig into the domain names etc, it seems this was thrown together last minute aka 2months ago after KC3/ PssoW C’s illnesses were announced. They are using PR to pretend they were working on it for an entire year, but even Scobie said they had nothing or whatever they had was all over the shop and he had no idea what it would be.

His comments don’t speak to a focused vision that is researched into whatever this is.

And what’s glaring about this launch is the lack of anything to sell. Not videos or actual products which speaks to the theory that this wax thrown together very quickly.

Russell Myers from the Mirror says if you sign up to the website, you get a respinse telling you that you’ll be notified of products when they are created/ available……if this was a year in the making and with proper marketing/ PR people, they’d have products ready to go. What it is right now is a landing/ holding page ( comments turned off on IG) until it produces products. 

It’s also interesting that the video is showcasing cooking which Markle tried to manifest for years while dating Corey. She auditioned and or popped up on varioys cooking shows/ fashion segments hoping to be hired. Acvording to people magazine, this launch of a lifestyle brand will have a companion show on Netflix. If Network tv won’t hire her for dream job then she’ll use her distribution deal to make it happen aka pay herself to make it happen!!!

However, one thing she revealed which tells me she has no clue about aspirational lifestyles/ branding. Her home kitchen hasn’t been updated from the dated 2000s/ early 2010s decor. It’s tye same kitchen from the sales brochure. 

Infact, glimpses of their home show a distinct lack of updating from the sales brochure. The onpy room thry updated is the one with the dining table as desk and their two side by side chairs. They removed all furniture and painted it white and addedva jute rug and that california bear poster over the fireplace. 

The current trend in kitchens for the wealthy is marble counter-tops and sleek designs meanwhile she’s displaying faux country/ italianate kitchen from the 90s. 

The women she is cosplaying eg GOOP, Martha and Ina Garten have upgraded to the current trend in kitchens. GOOP showed off her new kitchedn in AD. Heck, JLO is showing off her sleek kitchen. 

*****************

That they haven’t updated their house to their taste is what I laugh about the most. Are they really that cash-poor? Do they really have that much debt that they can’t afford to redo anything? Surely Markus and Soho House can cough up a few million to keep her happy, and when the Sussexes default on the loans, they can make Soho Olive Garden, a Californian spinoff of Soho Farmhouse. Win-win, if you ask me.

meanwhile she’s displaying faux country/ italianate kitchen from the 90s. ➡️ Remember, Meghan’s whole aesthetic is 90s. Of course she wants the Italian Country kitchen.

And thanks, anon. You’ve just reminded me of a house I looked at when I was moving back in 2022. The homeowners were so into that Italian Country Kitchen theme that they PAINTED the entire kitchen like it was a rustic Italian restaurant. You know you go into a family-owned Italian mom-and-pop place (not a chain like Olive Garden or Maggianos, but something like your neighborhood Italian pizza place) and it’s got that orangey-beige sponge paint that’s supposed to mimic sandstone and there’s a huge wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling mural of Italy and dusty fake vines hanging from decorative columns? Yeah, that was how this kitchen was painted. Even the cabinets. And that was not even the weirdest house I looked at by a mile.)

[nyc-looks]

Michael, 24

“I’m wearing vintage YSL blazer, vintage Versace sunglasses, rest is thrifted. Style inspiration is fluidity; always trying new colors, silhouettes & fabrics. Never keeping your style in a box. Trends never matter; if you like it, wear it.”

Mar 22, 2023 ∙ SoHo

[imightgetbetter]

back in time

i don't even know what came over me, but i basically meshed all these ideas into one and here we are, five thousand words later. i typically love writing long pieces, so we'll see if this becomes the new trend for my writing. as always, be nice and give feedback (reblog and messages and all that). thank you for all the support you've been showing me. it literally makes me so happy. okay bye. have fun reading! content warning: MATURE (if you're a minor, get out of here)

Nearly everything in your quaint apartment is moved out, deconstructed, and sold. Outside, New York City is bustling with movement. Holiday season always is. Mothers dragging their families to the Rockefeller Center Tree and Times Square and the notably known apartment buildings in SoHo. Inside, you are waiting anxiously for the buzzer to sound near your front door, where there is someone on their way to help you gather the rest of your things and move back home. Originally, your mother was meant to fly out and help you, but his willingness and insistence that it would be easier for him to come and help because he knows the area quite well from visiting and you’d already asked him (you didn’t), so he had absolutely no issue flying out for only a day or two to get things moved back home, made it so that she simply couldn’t refuse.

Holidays and special occasions always went like this from as early as you can remember. The Healy’s, The Daniel’s, The MacDonald’s, The Hann’s, and your family, all gathered in someone’s house, sharing stories and alcoholic beverages as the boys wacked and played their instruments and you would sit idly by trying to make yourself seem busy and uninterested. And that worked quite well, you thought, for years. Until one holiday, you found yourself drunkenly kissing Matty Healy on the side of your house, his hands brushing electrically against the skin hidden by a thick sweater. His skin was so warm compared to the harsh winter air around you, and kissing him, albeit drunkenly, made your entire body feel warm.

You and Matty never spoke of it, once you two walked back inside, making up some lie that you needed help throwing out the garbage. No one believed you, but you couldn’t speak of it, ever again. Not once. Mistakes are made when you’re drunk and you were friends and you were friends with his friends and you all grew up together, and it felt like the absolute worst thing you could possibly do. You ignored it, and Matty seemed to not have any cares for the fact that this had happen, continuing to act as he always had towards you. You thought it was a one-off thing, a one-time mistake. Until the next party. Until, when everyone was distracted, Matty was taking your hand and pulling you towards the entry way closet and grabbing your face and kissing you.

And this happened, a lot.

Matty never kissed you sober, which, was somehow insulting and intriguing simultaneously. Could you really be everything Matty wanted when he was drunk, but absolutely nothing more than a friend when sober? Questions like this swirled around your brain every time a gathering happened – which was quite often for you all – and every time, you found yourself drunkenly misplaced in his arms, his lips on yours. Matty never took it farther, never pushed it, as though that was enough for now.

All the one-off kissing was enough, until the day came when you were officially leaving. Your acceptance to New York University did not come as a shock to anyone, especially not your friends. You had always been a writer, from the minute you knew words, you were making up stories. You sat with Matty as he wrote songs, giving him synonyms and telling him if his rhyming scheme was off. You were made for this, and it was your dream coming true.

One last party was necessary, all the friends and family gathered together for one last real party, one where it wouldn’t only be because you were visiting in town for the holidays or the summer. All your friends were gathered on the floor of your bedroom, sitting knee to knee as you all share a joint around the circle and talk about what’s going to happen when you leave.

‘You’ve got to come back for holidays,’ George said, tilting his head back and letting the smoke puff out between his lips. ‘Have to check in and listen to what we’re working on, too.’

‘I’m not dropping off the face of the earth,’ you argue, stealing the joint and pulling it between your lips. ‘I’ll still be around. There’s the internet and stuff in America. I’m not going to the Arctic. You act like I’m never coming home.’

‘Might as well be,’ Matty huffs, the cigarette smoke pooling around his head like a cloud. He’s been the one having the hardest time with you leaving, and everyone could see it. He relayed his happiness for your acceptance, as everyone did, but there was something different attached to it, a different feeling. Matty stood up suddenly, lending out his hand for you, ‘I’m going to go outside for some air. Want to come?’

‘Uh, sure.’ His hand felt warm against yours, and you two slipped out the front door without anyone in the garden noticing. Matty walked you to the side of your house, a spot you remember vividly, and the tension feels weird, the energy is different, like there is so much to say but you want to say nothing at all. ‘You’re acting strange.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Matty says quietly, stubbing out the cigarette on the ground and leaning his hand on the side of the house. Adjusting yourself slightly, you twisted yourself to be facing him. ‘I can’t handle you leaving. It’s making me lose my bloody mind.’

“Matty, I’m going to school,’ you say, trying to brush away the feelings welling inside you. Objectively, to anyone else watching, this would be the perfect moment to profess your feelings for him, for him to share his feelings with you and tell you that you’re all he wants, and he’ll do the distance and all the things you watch in shitty romantic movies growing up. ‘I’m going to still talk to you and the guys. I’ll be back for holidays and summers. I’m not disappearing.’

‘I don’t want you to go.’

‘That’s not really an option, Matty. My career isn’t here. Nothing ties me to Manchester, besides my parents, growing up here. I want to go to New York. I want to go and experience it and then I want to come back and move to London and be an author and do all the things. Just like you want to be a musician. I wouldn’t be showing up at your house hours before you leave for a tour telling you not to go.’

‘I wouldn’t go,’ Matty says, turning his head away from the wall of the house and towards you. ‘I wouldn’t go if you didn’t want me to.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ you say, leaning against the siding of the house and tilting your head up towards the sky, staring at the stars. ‘You shouldn’t ever give up your dreams for your friends. That’s absurd and you know it.’

‘Jesus Christ, YN,’ Matty says roughly, the scratch in his throat accentuated by a wet rasp, and when you look at him, you can see the tears welling in his eyes, ‘you are not just my friend, you never have been. It’s always been more than that, and you know it.’

‘Know what, Matty? Me and you are only a thing when we’re high or we’re drunk. It’s not like you’re in love with me or something!’

‘And what if I was?’

‘Don’t say that to me. You can’t say that to me,’ you say, pushing off the wall and hurriedly walking towards the front door. Matty grabs your wrist and twists you around, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. It’s the type of kiss you read about, the one you watch in movies. It’s the type of kiss that leaves you breathless and confused and unsure where to go, only that you need to keep kissing him. Matty pulls away only for a second, giving you a moment to say, ‘You can’t do this when I’m about to leave. It’s not fair, Matty.’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’ Matty rubs your cheeks softly, his eyes tracing over your features, trying to memorize everything about you. ‘I just, I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel about you. You’ve always been more than just a drunken kiss.’ You don’t know what to say, how to feel. ‘I want you. I want to be with you. I love you.’

‘I’m going to be on another continent, Matty,’ you sigh, tears welling in your eyes as you lean your face into his hands. ‘I can’t do long distance. I don’t want to. I want to write and fall in love and fall out of love and have experiences, and I want you to have those, too. I can’t do this, no matter how I feel about you. Matty, we can’t do this.’

Matty knows you better than to ask what he wants to really ask you. ‘Can I come and visit you? Can you come home and listen to the band and write songs with me? Can we get high and talk about existential crises and politics?’ His eyes squeeze shut as you wipe a tear from his cheek. ‘Can I still kiss you?’

‘Yes,’ you say, not specifying which question you’re answering. Matty can decide what the ‘yes’ is to and for. ‘And when I’m done with school,’ you say hesitantly, nervous about the implications of what this might mean, ‘when I’m coming home, if you still feel the same way, we can talk about it. I don’t want you to ignore every opportunity just because something might happen in four years. Live your life, Matty. And if something happens when I come back, then–’

‘Yeah,’ Matty says quietly, kissing your forehead and pulling his hands away, reaching into his pocket and grabbing another cigarette. ‘I’m going to stay out here; you can go in.’

‘Okay,’ you say, drawing back from him and walking towards the front door, and the further you walk away, the more it feels like you’re walking away from what should’ve been so good.

And this is where you are, four and a half years later. Home is calling, you’re excited to be where you know for a while, especially for the holidays, before heading down to London and making a life there on your own. All of your bags are packed, lined against the wall. Only a few more boxes need to be shipped to your new address, and you have time to do that tomorrow before your flight in a day. All of it is coming together, except for the fact that you have to face what you’ve been actively avoiding for the last four years, because you know it’s going to be something you talk about.

And only a few minutes pass with this thought, because then the buzzer rang, you clicked the button and opened the apartment door, and before you could properly think of a greeting, you’re sucked into his arms, his entire body wrapped around you tightly. He is warm and smells so good, you swear it’s impossible that he’s just gotten off an airplane. His warmth is familiar, a sweet scent wafting over you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him, your eyes shut as you just soak in the silence. He’s quiet, as well, and you know that you both are thinking the same thing, trying to avoid the unspoken energy in the room. You wonder how long it’ll take for him to say something about it, and you wonder how long after that it’ll take you to blurt out the words that have been itching at your throat since that dreaded night you think about often, the night you regret more than anything.

Matty slowly pulls away, grabbing your cheeks and staring at you intensely, and you feel like your whole body is on fire and you can feel the heat of his breath on your mouth, and you want nothing more than to be kissing him, to feeling his lips on yours. His thumb traces your cheek, and he says, “I’m so happy you’re coming home. I’ve missed you.”

“I’m only home for a week. I move to London next week,” you say, and immediately you feel guilty for not spilling out how much you’ve missed him since you’ve been away. “I’ve missed you, more than you could believe.” His smile is enough to make you feel like your feet are floating above the ground, and you have to step away, reaching for a mug on the counter and taking a sip of the warm tea. “I’ve come down with a cold, I’m sorry. I know we have to share a bed and all, but I’ll try to stay away from you.”

“Don’t worry about me, darling. I mean it,” Matty says surely, taking a look around the empty apartment. He’s been here a handful of times, coming to visit here and there and always spending the most amount of time with you that he could, even if that meant sitting and watching you write on your computer for hours. “Do you want to do anything, tonight? I don’t mind staying in if you’re not feeling well.”

“I think there’s a Walmart about thirty minutes away,” you say reaching for your phone and clicking at your screen to try and find a car to take you there. “Don’t feel like, tied to me, while you’re here. I’m okay with being alone.”

“I’m not okay with you being alone,” Matty says without a second thought, grabbing his things out of his bag and opening the door for you, waiting for you to lead the way. He follows you closely and watches you as you stare at the scenery around you. You’ve always been this way, a city person at heart, from the moment he met you, you talked about moving to the city. Granted, he didn’t know that it would be New York City, but he did always know you would wind up somewhere with hustle and bustle, and you would fit in.

“Quit staring at me,” you say, not willing to look away from the sight of the car passing over the bridge. Having to leave feels so bittersweet. On one hand, you are excited to be home, to be living in London and around your friends. On the other, you know that you’re going to miss the city you’ve fallen in love with. It’s been your true love for so long, it feels like heartbreak.

“I’m not staring,” Matty says, turning his head out the window, a smirk fighting to curve across his mouth. “You’re staring at me, now.” His smile is wide when you quickly turn away from looking at him, the view of the store coming in front of you. “Come on, sicky. I’m sure you dragged me here for a puzzle that you certainly will not finish.”

“I will finish it,” you say, rolling your eyes and climbing out of the car behind him. Matty takes your hand, and you can feel electricity and heat wash through your body, entangling your nerves. “I want an artsy one. Not sure which one, but something pretty.”

Matty nods and you walk through the store quietly, neither of you saying much. There are too many unspoken words in the air and neither of you are willing to start the conversation. Matty points towards the aisle with the puzzles, and you follow him, standing quietly as you peruse the options and try to find one that calls your name. Your eyes follow his movements, tallying the new tattoos and the significance of different ink on his skin. You always told him that you wanted a tattoo, but you were never willing to go alone.

“Ah, you can make your own puzzle with a picture,” he says, drawing you out of your trance and towards an advertisement. “Do we have time for that?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, shaking your head. “Could you grab that one? That looks easy enough,” you add, pointing towards a tree of life puzzle on the very top shelf. Matty reaches for it easily, grabbing it and handing it to you to look at. “Perfect, thank you,” you say quietly, taking it from his hands, and without a second though, you kiss his cheek. His eyes go wide, and you can see the thoughts swirling around in his head. “Matty, seriously, don’t even think about it, I’m sick. I can’t get you sick before we fly home.”

“Have I ever cared about anything like that before?” Matty says seriously, turning towards you and taking a step forward, his body dangerously close to yours. “Are you really telling me not to?”

“No,” you swallow, and you can feel every nerve inch into your throat, your heart beating so loudly you can feel it reverberating in your ears. “Are you drunk or high? I don’t,” you pause, thinking very carefully about what you’re going to say next, “this can’t be like the other times.”

“YN, I just got off a plane three hours ago.” His body is now so close, you can feel his chest against yours, his breath hot against your face. You feel suffocated in this moment, too enraptured by the way being around him feels and the way he smells and the way his eyes have not left your lips, not even once. His hands come to your cheeks, a feeling you know all too well. “Can I?”

“Please,” you whisper, and suddenly your breath is taken away by his mouth on yours. Kissing him, it feels like sharing oxygen, like flying. Kissing him, it feels like every wrong decision is right and every bad thing is good. Kissing him, it feels like coming home. Kissing him, it feels like what you should’ve been doing all along. “I want to go home,” you mutter against his lips, and you can feel him smile against you. You can’t see it with your eyes closed, but the way his mouth is leaving open mouthed kisses on your cheek, it’s easy to tell.

“Take me home.”

Three simple words that have so much meaning, so much weight. Take me home. Take me home to your house. Take me home where we can be alone. Take me home where I can finally be with you, the way I’ve always wanted to be with you. Take me home, where we can start something, we’ve been waiting our whole lives for. Take me home, where I can be yours forever.

And the tension is there when you’re getting out of the car, and when you’re walking the stairs to get into the apartment, and when you’re quietly moving about the apartment trying to avoid talking to him about what just happened at all costs. Matty shuts and locks the door behind you, watching you mill about the apartment anxiously as he’s pressed against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest. You walk around him a few times, jumping back and forth from the kitchen to grab wine glasses that you were shipping out tomorrow and a wine bottle that you bought specifically for you two to share and the puzzle on the ground next to your makeshift mattress for the next day before you leave. Until finally, he can’t take it anymore.

“I don’t care about the bloody fucking puzzle, YN,” Matty says suddenly, cutting you out of your anxious thought wheel and walking directly over to you, grabbing your cheeks, and kissing you deeply, kissing you hard. His breath feeds you, and you feel like you could exist in this bubble for a long time, never needing anything else. “I want you so badly.”

“I want you, too,” you sigh, a moan leaving your lips as his hands begin wandering around your skin. “I don’t want this to be just a one-off thing, Matty. I don’t want to be a one-off thing.”

“You have never been a one-off thing,” he says sternly, gently tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it above your head with ease. He’s warm, and he’s almost certain it’s not from the heat of your apartment. “I have never, ever wanted anyone the way I want you. I love you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say ‘I love you’ back,” you say, and it’s the very first time in minutes that Matty has pulled away from you to really look at you. His heart softens, his thumb brushing under your cheek as a stray tear falls. All the emotions all at once are hitting you, and it feels like it’s too much, but you don’t want to stop, you don’t want this moment to end. It’s you and him. You and Matty, for the first time, and it feels just how it’s supposed to feel, “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back, back then, and I hope it’s not too late now to say it.”

“It’s not, baby. It’s not too late,” he assures you, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing against your lips. “I am still in love with you. I am in love with you. Nothing’s changed. Nothing about that has changed four years later.”

“I love you,” you say, and it’s easy, the words are easy coming from you to him. Matty smiles, leaning down and kissing you passionately, his hands reaching under your thighs and lifting you onto his waist, carrying you a few steps backwards to where your makeshift bed is. “I’m sorry about the bed.”

“Don’t care about the bed,” Matty whispers against your lips, setting you on your feet and working quickly to undo the buttons on your jeans. He’s skilled at this, you’ve noticed, the multitude of times he’s hurriedly worked to undo your jeans at family parties seemingly coming in handy, at this very moment. He’s heard you moan before; he’s made you orgasm, but it’s never gone this far, it’s never been this, and there’s an anticipation killing both of you that you are not willing to play with. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, shaking your head as you kick your jeans to the side and take a seat on the edge of the makeshift mattress. All you have on is your bralette and a seamless pair of underwear, not exactly the most ideal pairing, but something about it makes this feel even more perfect. Nothing was expected or certain. Like you two. Matty scrambles in his bag for the condom, and you can’t help but laugh watching him. He’s hurried and frantic and you have to remind him, “I am quite cold over here, but I’m not going anywhere. Take your time, I guess.”

“I’m doing my best,” Matty says with a grunt, swearing once or twice before smiling widely and waving the packets in his hand excitedly. “And I’m not an asshole, I just had very high hopes.”

“Extremely high.”

“You’re naked, aren’t you? Doesn’t seem like such a far-fetched hope to me.”

“And my clothes are right there,” you reply back with a smirk, pointing at your jeans and shirt piled together in the corner of the room. “Can put them back on in two seconds and we can go back to that lovely puzzle and my bottle of wine.”

“I’ll run into traffic.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

Matty shrugs off his sweater and his jeans, carefully leaning down and climbing over you, his warmth covering you completely. “I love you.” His face leans down and kisses you, the condoms forgotten somewhere beside you and the duvet at the edge of the mattress getting pulled over his back to cover you in extra warmth. “I would’ve waited a lifetime for you. I’m so glad I didn’t have to, though. That might’ve killed me.”

“I wouldn’t have made you wait that long,” you assure him, your hands holding his cheeks and threading through his hair. His hips dip against yours, and you can feel him hard and heavy against your core. You want him, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your hands move from his cheeks, trailing down his chest, pushing his boxers down his thighs. He pushes the material off his legs, leaning back onto his feet to look at you in front of him. “I clearly didn’t think this would happen. I’m not entirely, you know, ready.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matty says, his hands reaching behind your back and slipping your bralette off your body, his mouth immediately kissing alongst your chest, ghosting over your breasts and down your stomach. His hands are warm against your, but the goosebumps rising along your body from his touch is invigorating. He drags your underwear down your legs, kissing inside your thighs sweetly before climbing back up to meet you face to face. “I have so many things I want to do with you. You are just so beautiful.”

“You have time, Matty. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Matty fumbles with the condom wrapper for a moment, earning a giggle and a muffled laugh from him as he lays his hand over your mouth to quiet the laughter. He leans over you when it’s fully wrapped around him, his mouth heavy on yours. His fingers gently drag alongst your center, your arousal coating his fingertips and earning a moan from both of you. His cock moves easily against you, you’re so ready for him and anticipating this, that all you want is for him to finally be with you. “This is it. You’re coming home. I love you. And you love me. It’s us, now.”

“Us,” you whisper, a moan escaping your throat as he slowly inches himself into you, his forehead falling to yours and his mouth desperately finding yours to kiss you, to swallow your moans and your breaths and feel every part of you that he can. Matty’s arms are next to your face and your feel held and safe with him, like there’s nothing that could possibly go wrong while you’re like this. His hand slides between you, rubbing at the nerves between your thighs and kissing along your neck, your fingers dragging alongst his back as your legs circle around his waist, bringing him impossibly closer. His curls are clinging to his forehead with sweat, and you feel like your body is on fire, but it’s something you’ve craved for so long that you’re basking in it, that it’s everything you’ve wanted to feel. His thrusts are driven and hitting the right places and you think that it’s quite possible that you were always made to be together, that his body was made for you to enjoy and you for his. “I love you,” you whimper, your whole body tightening and your nails digging into his shoulders as your orgasm washes over you. His body stills above you, your legs still wrapped around his waist, and you can feel him release, his body easing into yours. He doesn’t want to move, but he knows he has to, and you hate the feeling of losing his warmth.

“Don’t move, baby. I’ll be right back,” he hums, kissing you sweetly as he slowly slides out and removes the condom, and he turns around when you giggle, your eyes fully fixated on his backside. “Are you staring at my ass?”

“Yes.”

“Is it nice?”

“Very.”

Matty laughs, shaking his head as he walks towards the wall and turns the heat another notch, before walking back towards you and sinking under the comforter with you. He lays on your chest, his hand wrapping around your waist, his fingers dragging along the curve of your side. “You don’t have to be so worked up, now. I know you, I know you’ve been awake all day because you were nervous about me coming.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You were nervous,” he says surely, his forearm supporting his body weight as he trails his fingers up your body and begins tracing your lips. He’s always been enthralled by your lips, by the way they feel on his. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Have you already told the guys?” you ask, turning your head slightly to give him better access to your skin, your eyes remaining closed and only listening to the sound of his voice. Outside, the stars and the moon are shining through the window, casting a perfect light over you.

“Told them what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Matthew.”

“They knew at Walmart.”

“I hate you so much,” you say, trying to hide the smile and the laughter that is fighting its way to the surface with your hands covering your face. Matty pulls your hands away, and you look at him, your eyes meeting his softly. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“I have something that may make you feel better.”

“I doubt that.”

“I mean, the guys don’t know that you’ve given me head every Christmas since you moved to New York, if that makes you feel better,” he smiles, the smirk on his face telling you everything he isn’t.

“And look at that! Tradition just ended. Just in the nick of time for this year,” you say, smacking his arm and turning around in the bed to face away from him. Matty wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest and kisses your shoulder sweetly. “I’m going to be travelling a lot for work. How are we going to do it?”

“You and I can figure that out,” Matty says surely, kissing the indent of your shoulder once more before gently guiding you to lay on your back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to see anyone else.”

“I don’t want to see anyone else.” Matty leans down to kiss you, and you hum against him, a content smile breaking apart your lips. “How many of the guys bet on this happened? I want to know.”

“I don’t think it was much of a bet of if it would happen,” he says, his fingers pushing stray strands of hair away from your forehead softly. “More of when.”

“Great! Happy to know they think I’m easy, Matthew.”

“Not my fault they can judge a situation! Think about it, darling, you can only sneak off at holiday parties so many times before someone notices.” He’s right, and you know it. “Not to mention, we weren’t very good at hiding it.” His mouth leans against your cheek when you roll your eyes, he knows he’s won this time. “I want to go to Central Park before we leave.”

“Central Park is just landscaping that people don’t take care of properly and tourists littering. It’s practically Sea World for New York City.”

“Can you do anything without posing an argument?”

“No, and now you’re in for a lifetime of arguments. That’s on you.”

Matty smiles brightly because he wouldn’t care if you argued over the simplest things every minute for the rest of his life if it meant he got to be with you.

[ceeplays]

Simston's & Co. - Retail Build (CC & Download Link Below)!

Lot Size: 20x20 Location: Magnolia Promenade Lot Type: Retail

More photos, tray files download, and Gallery ID below! ♡

Simston's & Co. is the latest high-end fashion store to open its doors on Magnolia Promenade. Whether you're looking to blow your simoleons on the latest trends, or you're just in the mood for some window shopping, Simston's isn't likely to disappoint!

I'm really excited about this build! It's certainly not perfect (I'm still learning) but I hope you enjoy, as I had lots of fun making it. Simston's features a luxury store with mannequins I've left blank for your customization! It can also easily be transformed into a Bridal Shop, as I've added @ravasheencc 's porto luminoso market stall cutout featuring the Tartosa Patiserrie Shop (shopping, champagne & cake, anyone?). Finally, I've left the store's second level blank (with the exception of some mannequin window displays), so that you can convert the build into a Live-In Store with an apartment upstairs.

I've included the build's tray files & all the cc used in the link below. You can also find this build on the Gallery under the ID - Ceeplays (DON'T FORGET TO ENABLE CUSTOM CONTENT BUILDS IN THE GALLERY).

The only CC not included are a few items from The Soho Collection by @felixandresims , which you can download here.

Please do not re-upload my content or claim it as your own. Enjoy!

Download tray files & cc here.

Thank you to all the incredible cc creators ♡: @harrie-cc @felixandresims @charlypancakes @littledica @maxsus @myshunosun @pierisim @ravasheencc @rusticsims-blog @sforzcc @sixamcc @syboubou @thecluttercat @tudtuds @tukete @aggressivekitty @aroundthesims @bbygyal123 @illogicalsims @lilaccreative @simkoos @softpine

[freshfraise]

ALL OR NOTHING - ONE

pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

summary: Childhood sweethearts. After a tearful, transformative departure at just 19, four years pass by. And now, at 23, you are being forced to awkwardly reunite with your ex-boyfriend to fulfill your dreaded journalistic duties.

authors note: this chapter is essentially the build up to when they meet again next chapter, so bear with me :)) thank you for all the love and comment if you want to be in the tag list!

previous chapter here

2022 | LONDON, SOHO

You shake off your nerves as you enter your boss's office. You were specifically called over, which was extremely rare for a journalist of your level. Sympathetic glances are shot over from your colleagues, having you anticipate the worst. You wrap your trembling digits around the frigid doorknob and heave deeply. 

“I’m removing you from Educational Journalism and switching you to a different sector.” Your boss declares bluntly, barely leaving any time for your feet to be firmly planted on the floor.

“Wh-”

“I believe your writing is better fit for a more riveting sector than Education. Something along the lines of Entertainment and Sports.” He continues, blocking out any sort of inquiry you may have. The word Sports rings in your head. It was only just four years ago. Four years ago since you last saw him. Of course, you saw the odd headline of him or a trending hashtag/tweet debating just how good of a player he is, but you made it your (extremely difficult) mission to ignore and block out as much as possible of your ridiculously illustrious ex-boyfriend. You prayed that your boss would lean more into the entertainment sector, as you definitely wouldn’t mind interviewing and writing about celebrities and media around the world.

“Okay well, is there any sort of training I need to take before I start?” You question quickly, wary that you would be cut off again.

“Your writing is just what we need, so no, none at all. In fact, you have a train to Paris booked for 7:45 am tomorrow, as you’ll be interviewing a popular football team at their stadium. I’ll confirm more details in the morning.” The ringing in your ears grows louder, almost deafening. Suddenly, your trembling fingers become slick with perspiration and your tongue abnormally scratchy. There’s no way, what are the odds? you think to yourself. Your breathing becomes more hollow and rapid, now audible.

“Ms. Y/L/N? Are-” 

You interrupt this time, (unintentionally, but nonetheless it felt good). “Is this confirmed? Is there any way to deny this? I have a lot of things going on-”

“Y/N, this job is highly sought after, so the fact you’re even considering denying this job is very telling of your dedication to your role.” Your boss reprimands, making you purse your lips in shame. “And, yes it is very much confirmed, both the train ticket and the interviews. I get it, it’s normal to get scared and anxious when meeting celebrities of such calibre, but, you’re a journalist and this is a part of your job. Paris Saint Germain is one of-” Your boss’s voice fades out in the abundance of thoughts swirling around in your throbbing head. Now, you’re regretting a lot of things. You’re regretting not keeping in touch, which would probably drastically reduce the levels of anxiety you’re feeling but also your insistence on keeping your relationship with him private, because if it wasn’t, maybe your boss would understand how uncomfortable this situation is. Although, it did save you a swarm of hate comments and death threats.

You tune back into your boss’s ongoing rant, “-I, myself, am a fan of PSG, so if you could maybe get a signature or two from a couple players, that would be great.” He suggests, voice evident of enthusiasm. You roll your eyes subtly before heading your way out of the office. 

“Oh, Y/N?” He calls out, making you turn back promptly. “A signature from Mbappé in particular.” He comments, a small smile on his face. You pinch your eyelids shut and nod, already embarrassed at the thought of asking your Ex best friend/boy friend for a signature. 

---

On the tiresome commute home, you take advantage of the empty bus and call your best friend to communicate your uneasy thoughts.

“Imani, should I quit?” You ask, slouched in your seat, head facing the bus ceiling. One of the first and only friends you made in London, Imani is the only person outside of your immediate family that knows of your past relations with the footballer. Initially, she thought that it was a very well thought out prank, before realising that it was, in fact real and ended up screaming down the phone at you in bewilderment, leaving you to explain the extensive history of Y/N and the Mbappé.

“Girl, you have bills to pay. So delete that from your options,” She states bluntly, earning a hearty chuckle from you. “Unless,” She says, dragging out the ‘S’.

“Unless what?”

“Unless you get back together with him, that financial burden is lifted off your shoulders, and I can become WAG adjacent again! Win win for all of us!” 

“Imani.” You say exasperated.

“I’m kidding. Kinda. If I’m being honest, I still don’t understand why you broke up with him. You guys were so cute.”

“First of all, It was mutual. Kinda.” You recall the series of events, remembering your desolation and ache. You bite your lower lip, not liking to think too much about the feelings that day.

“Yeah mutual, yet he was begging for you not to leave him.” Imani responds, making you giggle quietly at her cut throat attitude.

“That wasn’t funny.” You say blankly, not giving her the satisfaction of making you laugh. “Plus, that was years ago, he probably has a girlfriend now.” The thought scans your mind briefly, leaving you to ponder.

“I love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else but you, Y/N."

“You know what that means.” Imani declares, interrupting your train of thought.

“Late night stalking session?” “Late night stalking sesh.” Imani affirms. A late night stalking session, consists of one dedicated hour to finding out everything, ever imaginable about a possible romantic interest. In this case, a past romantic interest. This should be easy, you think to yourself, due to his famed status.

After a long journey home and sixty fatiguing, extensive minutes of harassing online search engines, you and Imani concluded two things:

Ethan has grown a lot since you last saw him.

Kylian, as a matter of fact, does have a girlfriend, who apparently, he’s engaged to.

---

taglist: @aechii

[visit-new-york]

Crosby and Broome Street

Crosby St & Broome St New York, NY 10012

Unveiling the Splendor of Crosby Street & Broome Street.

In the heart of Manhattan's SoHo district lies an enchanting convergence of history, artistry, culinary excellence, and urban allure – the iconic intersection of Crosby Street and Broome Street. These two thoroughfares, each with its unique character, weave a narrative that transcends time, revealing the captivating evolution of a neighborhood that has blossomed into a haven for creativity, luxury, and vibrant community life. Embark on a captivating journey as we delve into the intricate details that define Crosby Street and Broome Street in SoHo, transforming them into a destination unlike any other.

A Stroll Through Time and Architecture

Crosby Street, a narrow cobblestone path, invites visitors to step back in time. Its cast-iron facades, remnants of the neighborhood's industrial origins, have been artfully repurposed into galleries, boutiques, and residences. The very buildings that once housed factories now stand as testaments to SoHo's ability to seamlessly fuse history with modernity, each cast-iron detail whispering stories of the past while embracing the future.

Intersecting Crosby Street, Broome Street adds another layer to the architectural panorama. Amid the luxury boutiques and contemporary structures, the Old St. Patrick's Cathedral stands tall, its Gothic Revival architecture an eloquent reminder of the immigrant history that helped shape the neighborhood. The streets serve as a living embodiment of how a community can pay homage to its roots while embracing change.

Artistic Expression and Creativity

Crosby Street's artistic soul continues to thrive through a fresh blend of pop-up exhibitions, murals, and interactive installations. The street itself has become an ever-changing canvas, a vibrant symphony of colors and shapes that captivate passersby and engage the imagination. It stands as a testament to the power of art to transcend conventional boundaries and inhabit the very essence of a neighborhood.

Broome Street's creative vitality is equally vibrant, boasting galleries, studios, and performance spaces. These intimate theaters provide a stage for emerging artists, musicians, and actors to share their talents, breathing life into the neighborhood's commitment to nurturing artistic expression in all its forms.

Culinary Odyssey and Pleasures

The culinary offerings on Crosby and Broome Streets present a feast for the senses, a tantalizing fusion of cultures and cuisines that reflect New York City's global character. From cozy cafes to upscale dining establishments, these streets offer a culinary symphony that celebrates diversity and innovation. Each dish and cup of coffee is a testament to the culinary artists who infuse their creations with a passion that mirrors the vibrant spirit of the neighborhood.

Retail Therapy and Luxury Lanes

For the discerning shopper, Crosby and Broome Streets emerge as a haven of luxury and style. The boutiques and flagship stores of luxury brands create an ambiance of refined elegance, where the latest trends and timeless fashion converge. The windows serve as a visual masterpiece, drawing in fashion enthusiasts and blending artistic expression with the world of commerce.

Community and Cultural Fusion

Beyond the aesthetics and commercial offerings, Crosby Street and Broome Street thrive as hubs of community engagement and cultural fusion. Throughout the year, these streets come alive with a myriad of events that unite residents and visitors, fostering a sense of belonging and shared identity. Art walks, street fairs, and seasonal celebrations fill the air with excitement, allowing individuals to immerse themselves in the neighborhood's vibrant tapestry.

Local artisans and craftsmen also find their home along these streets, offering a glimpse into the ingenuity and entrepreneurial spirit that define the SoHo community. From handmade crafts to vintage treasures, these local establishments contribute to a sense of authenticity that resonates with those who seek to uncover the heart of the neighborhood.

Residential Enclaves and Urban Sanctuaries

Crosby Street and Broome Street are not just destinations for exploration; they also embrace a vibrant residential community that calls SoHo home. Living on these storied streets offers a unique blend of urban sophistication and neighborhood charm. Residents find themselves at the nexus of luxury and convenience, with high-end boutiques and dining establishments just steps away from their front doors.

These streets, with their cobblestone pathways and historic facades, serve as urban sanctuaries where residents can escape the bustling city and find respite within a community that values both creativity and connectivity. The sense of camaraderie that emerges among those who reside on Crosby and Broome Streets is a testament to the enduring allure of this remarkable neighborhood.

Conclusion: A Continuum of Splendor

In the heart of SoHo, Crosby Street and Broome Street stand as sentinels of a neighborhood that has gracefully evolved while preserving its character and heritage. These streets are not isolated entities; they are part of a continuum that weaves the past, present, and future into a seamless tapestry of experiences. From the cast-iron architecture that whispers tales of industrial prowess to the vibrant artistry that defines its modern incarnation, this intersection beckons travelers and locals alike to embrace the charm, creativity, and community that define SoHo's essence.

As you traverse the enchanting landscape of Crosby Street and Broome Street, you're embarking on an exploration of the soul of New York City itself. Through its art, architecture, culinary delights, and dynamic community, this iconic intersection embodies the spirit of a city that is both a canvas and a masterpiece – a city that thrives on innovation while honoring its storied past. SoHo's odyssey continues, and at the crossroads of Crosby and Broome, its timeless allure is more captivating than ever before.

[scotianostra]

William Playfair the Scottish engineer and political economist was born on September 22nd 1759.

I read one article about Playfair that describes him as "a kind of Forrest Gump of the Enlightenment" perhaps a bit harsh, I would say he was a bit of a polymath, another source in my opinion is more accurate, Playfair is without doubt to many of you out there "the most famous man you have never heard of" he rubbed shoulders with the era’s many giants, switching careers at the drop of a hat, and throwing himself headlong into history-changing events, from the storming of the Bastille to the settling of the American West.

William had a lot to live up to, his brothers were architect James Playfair and mathematician John Playfair, his father passed away when he was 13 and it was left to John to lead the family and his education.

After serving his apprenticeship with Andrew Meikle, the inventor of the threshing machine, William Playfair became draftsman and personal assistant to James Watt at the Boulton and Watt steam engine factory in Soho, Birmingham then seems to have just wander from one trade to another, the way Gump wandered through life, so you can see where the analogy comes from.

William, was, during his adult life, (takes a deep breath) a millwright, engineer, draftsman, accountant, inventor, silversmith, merchant, investment broker, economist, statistician, pamphleteer, translator, publicist, land speculator, convict, banker, ardent royalist, editor, blackmailer and journalist.

Okay they are not all jobs, but they do put you in the picture a wee bit on the character of the man I think.

Most interestingly in my opinion was his time as a spy in France during the Revolution and was on the scene during the storming of the Bastille. He even helps trigger the first major political scandal in the newly formed United States, a land speculation gone bad involving Washington, Hamilton, and Jefferson.

To go into all of this man's adventurers would take too long, instead I will just tell you that the one thing he did, that has been a part of all your lives, in one way or another, is he invented the graph. Before William invented the graph you had to read through pages of statistics to find things out, the graph, you "get it" in a glance.

In 1786, he published "The Commercial and Political Atlas" , a compendium of bar and line charts representing different European countries’ imports, exports, wages, and other trends for which he had the data handy. As the man himself explained, “Men of high rank, or active business, can only pay attention to outlines… It is hoped that, with the Assistance of these Charts, such information will be got without the fatigue and trouble of studying the particulars.” he went on “No study is less alluring or more dry and tedious than statistics, unless the mind and imagination are set to work,” in the book’s introduction.

His old boss Watt, was sent a copy of the Commercial Atlas for review, and wasn't impressed, called the book “mere plummery” and its author “a Rascal.”

To finish I must say that he was a rather humble man and actually gave credit for the invention to his brother writing, "John taught me to know that whatever can be expressed in numbers, may be represented by lines,” Playfair wrote much later, in the introduction to one of his books of diagrams. “To the best and most affectionate of brothers, I owe the invention of these Charts.”

He was never a success in his lifetime and was seen as a ditherer by Watt.

William Playfair died in 1823, in poverty and relative obscurity, banned from any good society. Slowly, over the next century or so, the supply of readily available data grew—as did the the public’s appetite for it. Bar, line and pie charts began trickling into newspapers and textbooks. Two hundred years later, as we barrel forward into the Information Age, you can’t click a link without stumbling upon some kind of data visualisation.

The next time you come across a graph, remember, like many other notable inventions in our history, take pride in that it was the work of a Scot that gave us these easy to read information "pictures".

You can find more on William Playfair here https://www.atlasobscura.com/.../the-scottish-scoundrel...