camberwell society
Ayesha (2009)
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Oh Camberwell. Where do I begin?
From white ladies painting themselves black, black ladies painting themselves white, the dude with the bright pink plastic hands chasing people down the street - there never is a dull moment in good old Camberwell.
It was the first place I lived when I moved to London nine long years ago. And it certainly knocked out any romantic ideas I had of the bright lights and the big city. But it retains something of a special quality to me; I mean, where else would you see a huge man walking down the street with his trousers round his ankles, swinging his enormous cock in time with his step, without so much as a care in the world? At 9am on a Tuesday morning. That's Camberwell...