Photo Flickr ADVERTISEMENT 2. Have you got that Black Wednesday feeling? www.cheapskate.com Features When the Titanic sank, a string quartet continued to play until the very end. On this sinking ship, the band has long been laid off. Welcome to the SS Financial Meltdown You already know all about doom, gloom and apocalyptic headlines – you live in London. Rather than wallow in the mire, we want to help you appreciate the joy of living on the cheap in the city. The cheapskate used to be the person who borrowed a tenner, didn’t get a round in at the bar and then denied ever knowing you. Now a cheapskate is the person knowledgeable enough to have a great time on the town for under a fiver, inventive enough to make some extra cash quickly and good-humoured enough to know that sometimes all you can do is laugh. Cheapskate Magazine is for that person and everyone who needs to become one. It is free and put together by full-time, professional cheapskates. Each week we’ll be recommending a slew of things to do in London for nothing (or next to) and casting an appraising eye over all the latest trends in cheap. Just as importantly, we’re turning our backs firmly on the culture of spend, spend, spend, and the wailing despair of the establishment by issuing a collective call to arms: Join us and celebrate! For we truly have more sense than money. 16 21 22 26 30 32 34 Cheapskate challenge How much money can you make in a day? Forget dinner, here’s the sex Eating out’s expensive. Make love, not smalltalk Just press play The record stores fighting back Boeing, going, gone How your luggage made it to Tooting The fine art of talent spotting Find the next Hirst at a University show Intern-al bleeding Work experience gone bad Limited time only Pop in to some pop-up shops Regulars 04 06 10 12 36 37 38 News Interview: The scammer scammer Rags to riches... to rags Confessions of a cheapskate Eating in: Dog dinner Cheapskate quiz Interview: Reverend Billy Listings (pullout from p.24) Editors: Ciaran McCauley, Ceiri O’Driscoll; Designer: Paul Campbell; Chief Sub Editor: Paul Bentley; Picture Editor: Sylvia Rowley; Production Manager: Lena de Casparis. Thanks to: Declan Gillespie and Nicole Duong 02 04 06 10 12 Paper cinemas Free festivals Underground rebel bingo Next week Vodka testing Football freestylers Frockme fashion Pub Quizes Jumble sales The scoop www.cheapskate.com 3. the week in the the good What, other than Christiano Ronaldo, can you buy for £80 million? 1 Big Mac for the entire population of Canada 10,666 pectoral augmentations Otherwise known as moob jobs Photos Bullets: lilfishes.com; Lego: entertainmentearth.com; Toy: robertbradford.co.uk; Uniform: M&S; Mattresses: Tara Todras-Whitehill; Robstopper: Ananova 138,000 ounces of gold 4. 3 trips to the International Space Station With spare change of just over £15 million 80 per cent of Newcastle United Football Club the 11,400 hip replacements Madonna’s art collection 8,163,265 Nike footballs 1 Island Macapule, off the coast of Mexico, is 14 miles long and currently for sale at £60million. Leaving you £20million to spend on sun cream Transformers Not content shoving his kids’ old toys in the attic like the rest of us, Cornish sculptor Robert Bradford stuck them together and made two giant ones. They are now on sale for £12,000 each. Resourceful! Verdict: Intoyligent Quote of the week Cheap! Cheap! “This is the first show I’ve ever done where taxpayers’ money is being used to hang my pictures up rather than scrape them off.” School uniforms are rubbish Running out of ideas… let’s recycle this one further! Marks & Spencer has announced it is to sell a school uniform made entirely from recycled waste. The clothes are produced by washing and melting plastic bottles, refining the gloop and then weaving them into polyester. Shoes are cobbled together by chopping up and remolding landfill-bound leather shavings. Rubbish joke up ahead: Verdict: Bingenious Banksy on his new exhibition at the Bristol Museum Savings An Israeli woman has sites after she binned a worth of her mother’s bought her mother a n then threw away the o stuffed within. She tho in an account. As soo mistake she ran outsid had already been remo rything in proportion an the bad,” said a stoica The mother, less philos Verdict: Bedlam www.cheapskate.com world of cheap the bonkers top 10 ways to grab an employer’s attention One in five jobseekers are using unusual tactics to stand out during the recession, according to a survey conducted by CareerBuilder. Even Michael Owen has resorted to desperate measures. His agency sent out a 34-page booklet to prospective clubs, defending his reputation for not scoring goals and always being injured. Here are the most inventive tactics found by the survey: 1. Sending a shoe with a CV to �get a foot in the door’ e bad put to bed ROB STOPPeR A Chinese robber confessed this week to munching through caged window bars in order to break in to a series of houses in the Nanjimen region, Chongqing. “Through our investigations, we found the grids had been cut with deep tooth prints,” said a local police spokesman. Police arrested Xiong, 23, after originally interviewing his roommate who told them Xiong could crack walnuts with his teeth. Xiong grew up in a mountain town and harnessed his tooth-strength by using them to open walnuts that grew in the area.Over a two year period, Xiong only failed once in attempts to chew through window bars. “I bit on a 2cm thick steel grid and the first bite nearly dislocated my jaw,” he said. “I never take other tools with me when breaking in,” he added. “That’s why I never got stopped by patrolling officers at night.” Verdict: Nut job 2. Staging a sit-in in the lobby to get a meeting with a director 3. Washing cars in the car park to show willingness 4. Sending a CV wrapped as a present offering skills as a �gift to the company’ 5. Giving CVs to cars at red traffic lights 6. Sending a cake Designing it as a business card and putting the candidate’s picture on it 7. Frequenting the same barber as a company chairman and encouraging the barber to speak to him on the candidate’s behalf 8. Handing out personalised coffee cups to potential employees spent all week scouring landfill a mattress containing $1million s savings. Anat, from Tel Aviv, new bed as a surprise gift. She old bed, unaware of the fortune ought her mother’s savings were on as her mother told her of her de and discovered the mattress oved. “People have to take evend thank God for the good and al Anat. sophical, refused to comment. 9. Wearing a bunny suit to an Easter time interview 10. Telling a receptionist an interview has been arranged with the manager Upon meeting the manager, the jobseeker confessed that he was driving by and decided to stop in on a chance www.cheapskate.com 5. scamMING the sc �Gilbert Murray’ was sick of emails from fraudsters offering him millions, so he set up scambuster419.co.uk to beat the scammers at their own game Talk us through why you started trying to bust scammers I kept getting emails from scammers and one time, instead of deleting the email, I decided to do something in retaliation. It was a small gesture, but I wanted to waste the scammer’s time as much as possible. Dealing with my bogus response would give them less time to defraud other people. How altruistic! Well, not entirely. I was pissed off they were taking me for a fool. I wanted to string them along just as they string along others. I wanted to have a bit of fun: to play with them by inventing ridiculous personas and scenarios and see how far I could go without them realising I wasn’t for real. I wanted to scam the scammers. It worked. Photos 419eater.com What was your first scambust? I got an email from �Wale Williams’ an African foreign exchange banker who claimed he used to work for Kofi Annan. He said a wealthy client of his had died and wanted him to protect his money from corrupt officials in his country. He said he had $30million to split between us. I said I was an inventor and could do with the money for my latest project: Icarus III, a propellor-powered jumbo jet. I explained to him that Icarus I and II had crashed during trial flights. It resulted in a ridiculous exchange. I kept delaying sending over personal details due to my nutty sidekick, Beaker, regularly blowing himself up in our labs. I agreed to seal the deal on a trip to Lagos and they weren’t best pleased when, after hours of correspondence, they turned up and I wasn’t there. 6. What’s the funniest scambust you’ve done? I got an email from someone posing as Rossy Kofi, a young girl who said she was orphaned after her dad was killed by her uncle. She said her dad had $7.5million in a bank account, which she wanted me to look after so her uncle couldn’t get to it. She said I would then get 15 per cent of the money. I feigned concern and started making arrangements for the transfer. She sent me a picture of her and wanted one in return. I told her I owned a massage parlour and wanted her to come work for me. She agreed but wanted to speak on the phone. I said my phone line was down after a truck delivering KY Jelly to my house crashed into an electricity pylon. Then she started with the conditions. She put me in contact with her �bank manager’ who wanted $350 for an official stamp duty fee and for me to send over my passport. I pretended I had sent the money and blamed them when it didn’t come through. In the last email Rossy threatened suicide and said I needed to help because I was now “like a father to her”. Do you ever feel bad stringing along the scammers? What if Rossy was for real? Of course she wasn’t for real! Scammers are criminals! All they want is your money and they will do whatever they need in order to get it. If you’re tempted to feel sorry for people who I’ve messed around, don’t. They are not nice people. Have you ever been threatened by scammers after taking them for a ride? I’ll never forget one guy. �Barrister Bernard Williams’, who freaked out when he found out my payment was fake. He called me a bastard and wrote: “don’t contact us again... be warn!” Be warn! That cracked me up. I get threats all the time but I never give out contact details and they’re a bit too far away for me to get worried. Some people accuse scambust websites of being racist for targeting African scammers. What do you say to them? Advance fee fraud does go on in many countries but most of the scams originate in West Africa, particularly Nigeria. My website is intended to poke fun at the individual scammers, not their countries, nationalities or races. Advance fee fraudsters are a disgrace to their own countries, and have done much to harm the international reputation of many countries overseas. Why did you start the scambuster419.co.uk website? Firstly, to raise awareness about the scammers. The more people know about what they’re up to, the better. I also knew I was on to something pretty funny. The web users love the emails. You just have to read the feedback on the site. One person said his whole office was getting in trouble for spending all day reading it. Others have said it’s the funniest thing on the web. I’m not sure about that, but it can be pretty hilarious. The site’s name comes from advance fee fraud, which is sometimes referred to as “419 fraud”, relating to the section of the Nigerian penal code that prohibits it. Do people ever actually believe the scammers’ emails? They sound ridiculous. www.cheapskate.com cammers You wouldn’t think so. The English is often poor, the spelling atrocious, and the stories wildly unbelievable. But people are regularly taken in by them. Advance fee fraud is big business. What should I do if I get an email from a scammer? First of all, do not believe it. Second, do not respond to it. Third, delete it. If you feel like pissing off the scammer, you can always forward the email onto the abuse department of the scammer’s internet service provider, for example abuse@hotmail.com or abuse@yahoo.co.uk. ISPs are not keen to have their services abused by scammers and will often do what they can to shut down email accounts used in this way. What’s next for you? Any plans for a book? Maybe. A lot of the site’s fans say I should publish but there are no concrete plans yet. Cheapskate will publish your book! Send your passport, underpants and £2000 to our bank manager, Mr Dragan, and we’re in business! I’m actually abroad at the moment. Meet me at the Go to our Lagos Hilton tomorrow and it’s a deal. webitse for cctv footage of the scammers being conned www.cheapskate.com 7. ADVERTISEMENT Would you like to become an MP? The House expects vacancies to arise among its members from Spring 2010 and wishes to invite applications from any person (man) in the United Kingdom. Job title Member of Parliament Hours of work Monday – Thursday, 10am-5pm (at most). Weekends will be spent in your constituency. Or in your 2nd, 3rd or 4th home, which swap in status on an annual basis. Benefits Three-month summer holidays and postjob opportunities on the after-dinner circuit. Salary £64,766 per annum. Plus expenses and John Lewis furnishings. Expenses Due to recent interest in our members’ spending habits, the purchasing of duck ponds is no longer recommended. For a detailed account of other inadvisable claims see the Daily Telegraph passim. Pension Provisions are moderate but the House can employ your offspring should the need for a care home/luxury cruise arise. Personal specification Any British subject aged 21 or over may stand for election, unless he is a lunatic, felon, traitor, clergyman, civil servant, member of the House of Lords or one of the Royal Family. A highly developed God complex is essential. Balding, middle aged men with a wife, lover and children have a distinct advantage. Essential skills • Well practised in the art of question avoidance • Abilty to believe you are fooling the public with your gimmicks and publicity stunts • Will comply after a good whipping • Bike riding (a car will be provided for your shoes should you need them) • Middle class background • Propensity for sexual dalliances Disposable skills • Ability to conceal aforementioned sexual dalliances • Fluent in the standard vernacular of the British Isles • A convincing smile • Administration and finance skills are not necessary. You can employ your children to cover these roles • Knowledge of your constituency Experience None necessary. However, previously disgraced candidates are encouraged to apply. As are the spouses and children of former party leaders. They will be promoted quickly. NB. In line with our policy of adherence to the letter, but not the spirit of the law, we are issuing an open invitation for applications, but must warn that it is likely we will fill the post internally. Education: Candidates who attended a university ending in –bridge or –ford are preferred. Not including: Bradford, Stafford, Uxbridge etc. 8. www.cheapskate.com THE HOUSE OF COMMONS We are not an equal opportunities employer ACCESS ALL AREAS Republic of Ireland vs Nigeria Craven Cottage, Fulham Shh! Here are eight more almost legitimate hustles After a one-off purchase of a high viz jacket, I headed to Craven Cottage, home to Fulham Football Club. I arrived 45 minutes before kick off to do some undercover stewarding. I didn’t exactly look the part – the jacket sat loosely over a T-shirt and jeans. Even worse, the Fulham stewards wore orange jackets while mine was Day-Glo yellow. Should’ve done more research. A decent crowd was gathering. Figuring a bit of actual stewarding would help me look the part, I stood in the middle of a road and waved my arms around. I approached two Irish fans who had stopped for a long conversation in the middle of the crowd. “Folks, move along there please.” One of them turned. “Just the man. I’ve got a ticket for the Riverside Stand but my friend is sitting in the Hammersmith End. Any chance I could swap my ticket for one at that end?” I looked around desperately. “Ahh, yes.” “Great. Where do I go to swap?” “Ahhhhhhhh.” I spotted a vaguely official looking ticket booth. “Over there?” “Over there?” “Yeah,” I said, making up my mind. “Over there.” It was time to end the method acting and actually get in. At the far end of the Haynes Stand was the reception area, monitored by two security men in suits. Suits – too scary. I made my way to the other end of the stand - the official players entrance - a corrugated steel gate with a single steward letting people in and out. Deep breath. “Just getting back to resume my post.” “No problem.” And that was it. Success. It didn’t end there. I went looking for the best seats in the house – the directors’ box. Wearing the jacket all the way over to the far side of the stadium, I passed steward after steward without being challenged. Arriving at Mohammed Al Fayed’s own directors enclave I quickly removed the jacket and – freedom – I sat for the entire game in total comfort. Even better - I was sitting but yards from former Gladiators presenter and football legend John Fashanu. Mission accomplished. Awoooga. 1. Get children to buy your cinema tickets Payback for the off-licence oiks who get us to buy them fags and cider. 2. Get out of paying credit card charges on flights Go to www.entropay.com, set up a virtual credit card and top it up with cash (like phone credit). Book flights and choose VISA ELECTRON as the card type. Enter your virtual card details and put ENTROPAY USER as the cardholder name. Voila, a tenner saved from the evil clutches of Ryanair. 3. Freelance as a health inspector Visit an office, steal the plastic visitor’s badge and make your own official-looking insert. Procure a white coat. Patrol greasy restaurants and demand samples. Never again pay for a kebab. 4. Join stitch and bitch groups These are get-togethers where people knit and drink wine. Wait �til the end when everyone is toasted and has merrily made their way into the night. Collect the abandoned scarves and rejoice at your warm neck. 5. Make the most of Ikea freebies Grab some pencils and the leaflets people use to jot down furniture numbers. Staple together the leaflets to form notebooks. Lifetime supply of stationary. NEXT WEEK Will high viz get a backhand from the bouncers at Wimbledon? We can but hope. 6. Volunteer at a charity shop for an hour a week Work your one hour on Monday mornings after the plentiful dropoffs of the weekend. Rummage through the new stock, taking any item of clothing that vaguelly fits/suits you. Then grab toiletry sets and novelty items to give friends and family for every birthday and special occasion for the rest of your life. *DISCLAIMER: We take no responsibilty if anyone ends up friendless or in jail after following this advice, you probably deseve it. A successful sneak-in to Craven Cottage www.cheapskate.com Photos Declan Gillespie Ever look at a construction worker and think �I wonder if I wore a high visibility jacket, could I sneak into places for free?’ No? Us Cheapskates have. 9. ric From rags to Just how does a self-mad Kim Basinger Garrincha Photos Hammer: boston.com; Basinger: Wikimedia Commons; Tyson: popularpersons.org; Best: Flickr MC Hammer 10. Manuel Francisco dos Santos was born into a poor family near Rio de Janiero, Brazil. He had to work in a factory as a child and his father was an alcoholic. Football provided an escape for Garrincha and he went on win the World Cup with Pele in 1958 and 1962. FIFA still consider him the world’s second greatest player of all time. Garrincha’s personal and financial life was not so successful. He was barely literate and the first contract he signed was blank. His life was the proverbial game of two halves – early sporting years of glory and a sad decline after retirement as drink, injury, financial and marital problems brought him to ruin. Garrincha died a forgotten hero in 1983 after suffering an alcoholic coma. Sports writer Josh Lacey summed it up well: “He lost his virginity to a goat, slept with hundreds of women and sired at least 14 children. When he played for the Brazilian national team he scored 34 goals and won the World Cup twice. He killed his mother-in-law in a car crash, then died of drink aged only 49.” Yes, that really did say �goat’. For several years MC Hammer was the best-selling hip-hop act in history. Other acts - na na na na - couldn’t touch him. Massive concert sales, record-setting album sales and the failure of an entire generation to question their ears and eyes, earned the Hammer $49million. His potential to make money did not stop there. Unlike conventional rappers who only use their street cred to pedal clothing lines, fragrances, and soft drinks, Hammer had his own trading card, action figure and Saturday morning cartoon. The man would do anything for cash. But what goes black can quickly go red. In the early nineties all semblance of reality in the great wordsmith’s mind had evaporated. He employed 200 people, paying them $7million a year. His 40,000 sq ft ’crib’ was decked out with a bowling alley, a recording studio, a 33-seat theater, two swimming pools, tennis courts, a baseball diamond, a 17-car garage and a gold toilet. Confusingly, he also owned two helicopters. And had the lease of a Boeing 747. Like most people, Hammer liked to party. But he liked to party in a cloudlike haze. He wasted further notes on a fire suppression sprinkler system that released mist over social gatherings. In 1996, the Hammer declared bankruptcy. He is now a minister. www.cheapskate.com If ever the phrase �more money than sense’ was needed it is now. Kim Basinger, evidently beautiful and talented, has shown the economic instincts of a walnut. The woman could command $1,000 a day modelling or make a few million pretending to be Eminem�s mum, Batman�s mistress or Micky Rourke�s missus. Instead she pissed around with needless financial tussles. Based on the advice of her family - who later fell out and caused her to lose the place - Basinger purchased Braselton, Georgia for $20 million. She hoped a small town in Georgia would become a tourist attraction. The fool-proof plan failed. Coupled with this financial meltdown, she dropped out of her next movie, Boxing Helena. In the film, Basinger’s character was to have her arms and legs amputated by a stalker who kept her cooped up in a box long enough for her to fall in love with him. The movie was not based on a real life story. The studio sued Basinger for $8million for backing out of the project. She filed for bankruptcy soon after. It should be noted that Basinger has since turned her career around. So much so that she could grace Eminem’s biopic (pretty much) with its best line. Seeking comfort with her son about problems with her new boyfriend, Basinger’s character whined: “Greg won’t go down on me”. Pure movie magic. ches... to rags de superstar blow it all? Mike Tyson Mark Twain Mark Twain was a success before he was an author. He worked as a riverboat pilot earning $250 a month - the modern equivalent of an average MP’s expenses claim. When he began to write, the royalties poured in. But Twain was a habitual gambler, fond of funding speculative investments and pointless inventions. He sunk piles of cash into innovative but useless devices like infant bed clamps. The financially challenged Twain even set aside work on Huckleberry Finn to concentrate on creating a children’s trivia game, a decision comparable to Joaquin Phoenix shunning acting to become a rapper. Twain, as per usual, summed it up best: “October. This is one of the peculiarly dangerous months to speculate in stocks. The others are July, January, September, April, November, May, March, June, December, August, and February.” Given that he is a genius, here’s a gratuitous Twain quote: “A banker is a fellow who lends you his umbrella when the sun is shining, but wants it back the minute it begins to rain.” Unhinged at the best of times, �Iron Mike’ once told Lennox Lewis: “I’m ferocious. I want your heart. I want to eat your children. Praise be to Allah!” Tyson is decidedly bonkers but surely even he couldn’t spend a $300 million fortune... Apparently he could. Much of his wealth was swallowed by his entourage. Tyson thought it necessary to pay a man called �Crocodile’ hundreds of thousands of dollars to shout “Guerrilla Warfare!” at prefight press conferences. A generous type, Tyson bought a batch of six Rolls Royces and distributed them among his friends. He had custom-made Harley Davidsons, a fleet of Rolls, Bentleys and Ferraris, and a half-million dollar watch emblazoned with pornography. Tyson’s ultimate undoing was animals (see Cheapskate recipes on p42 to save yourself a similar fate). Food and shelter for his two Bengal tigers set him back $12,000 a month. Most absurd though was Tyson’s outlay on pigeons. As ridiculous as earning $30 million for a night’s work was his spending on his 350 worldclass birds. Imported from all over the world, the vermin cost thousands to feed and care for. He even had four elaborate barns built in his mansion to house them. In 2003, Tyson declared bankruptcy, owing over $10 million. He now has to try and sell his assets, such as a $100,000 platinum bracelet inscribed �Heavyweight Champ’. Not many buyers available for that one, Mike. www.cheapskate.com George Best Embarrassingly skilled with a football and blessed with pop star looks, it’s no wonder the Belfast Boy - who grew up in the city’s modest Cregagh estate - became football’s first superstar. �The Fifth Beatle’ and European Champion opened nightclubs and boutiques in the late Sixties, seemingly putting his handsome wage to good use. But as his career petered out, Best conspired to waste everything he had. “I spent a lot of money on booze, birds, and fast cars. The rest I just squandered,” he explained. Bankruptcy soon followed. Best spent the rest of his life as an alcoholic, finally succumbing to liver disease in 2006. 11. For some people, Wimbledon means drinking Pimm’s in the rain, cheering for a British no-hoper or wanting to strangle Cliff Richard. For me, it represents my darkest hour – the time I had innocent, tennis-loving grannies shopped to the cops for cold hard cash. After I graduated a few years ago, I needed to raise some quick money for a holiday. I wasn’t exactly broke but was desperate to jet off somewhere sunny. A friend recommended getting a job at Wimbledon. But the romantic idea of serving strawberries to tennis skirt clad luvvies on Murray Mound was soon dashed – the only work left was checking tickets and bags as people entered the stadium. The uniform was ridiculous: navy suit; gold buckles; a dainty flat cap to set off the embarrassment. Worst of all, the hourly rate was shocking. I didn’t know if all the work would actually pay for the holiday. Luckily for me there was incentive – we were rewarded with £100 bonuses if we caught anyone breaking the rules. Immediately, I was tempted. A few well-planted quarter bottles of booze or drugs and – quids in – I’d practically be on the beach, sipping a Caipirinha. As it turned out; I didn’t even have to do that. In the UK it is illegal to carry a lock knife. These laws were brought in to discourage knife crime: a noble aim. However, knife crime isn’t the biggest of problems round SW19 come late June and I’m fairly sure the laws were not designed to prevent venerable old tennis heads from tucking into packed lunches of bread and French cheese. Nonetheless, we were told that any punter coming through the gates with such a �weapon’ should be reported and would be refused entry and cautioned by the police. And, of course, any responsible steward to report such knife-wielding, cheese-eating, geriatric maniacs, would receive the £100 bonus. Now, I’m usually a moral person. I swear. I once stole a fiver out of my mum’s purse to buy 20 sherbet dips but felt so guilty I broke down during a sugar rush and cried syrupy tears for four hours, begging my mum to forgive me. She did; but I haven’t been able to look at sherbet since. But this was too tempting. Before me was a succession of unsuspecting old dearies, unaware of a change in the law that could ruin their yearly routine of toasting tennis with a glass of Rioja and a freshly sliced chunk of Roquefort. Obviously they were no risk to anyone but I needed dosh. It was an easy decision. So up they came to the gates. I searched the bags. Finding any lock knives, I had them confiscated immediately and beckoned any nearby police to escort the offenders from the All-England Club. They didn’t take it lightly. Most were confused. One old lovely thought she was being taken away because Wimbledon were tightening their rules on entry with cheese. Another man was a little brusquer, wagging a middle finger in my direction in a particularly undignified way. He also told me to �go soak my head’, whatever that means. I was only following rules. And I made enough in bonuses for my two weeks away. But I felt awful and was too guilt-ridden to stay in the job – although the sweltering heat and stupid polyester suit also had something to do with it. I feel terrible about all those innocent grandparents I had arrested. All for a holiday, paid for with blood money. In fairness, though, it was a really good holiday. confessions of a cheapskate Inside the If you want to confess your tight fistedness contact confessions @cheapskate.com 12. mind of London’s stingiest man www.cheapskate.com Home improvements Home. It’s where you live. Full of metaphors for peace, love and belonging it may be, but playground it ain’t. What to do when enthusiasm is high but funds are low? Let Cheapskate guide you through the cornucopia of free fun to be found with the front door closed. Kitchen Nothing is more fun than the cutlery drawer. Told as a child never to play with knives? Piffle! Imagine a world without knife thrower’s! It’d be rubbish - but that’s what we’d have if we’d listened to our parents. Now all you need is a volunteer from the audience. Flatmates, neighbours and siblings are fine, but if doubtful of the accuracy of your aim then perhaps stick to a teddy bear for now. Sellotape your volunteer/victim to the wall and hey presto! Hours of circus-based fun to be had. Garden Bored of perforating your friends? Empty the contents of the cutlery drawer out onto the grass and build a machine. Not a time machine – this is a serious article – but one of those Wallace and Gromit style, Pob inspired machines that uses multiple implements, and a dash of evil scientist cunning, to do something utterly mundane. For instance: Tie a watering can to a windowsill underneath a leaky gutter; when the can fills it will tip, pouring water into a funnel which decants the liquid onto a spatula attached to the toaster handle. The handle will be pulled down, setting two pieces of bread to toast; when they pop up, the toast will land on a scalectrix set, activating the cars which will race round the track. At the end of the track is your hamster which will squeak with alarm and start running round his hamster wheel. This will generate enough energy to cause a spark on the faulty circuit board you have wired up, setting fire to your next door neighbour’s fence. Genius! Living Room They say his home is an Englishman’s castle and what better way to celebrate than with a fort in your lounge. Architecture nous is as important here as when considering an extension to your house. Good foundations? Check. Sufficient space? Check. Clearly accessible entrance/exit? Check. Think outside the (cushion-based) box though. Does your house extension have a hole for throwing things at intruders? Didn’t think so. Bathroom Cast your mind back to our previous exploits and now add a little liquid refreshment to proceedings. What better to throw at intruders through your fort hole than a balloon filled with water! Stuck for a glutinous substance to sink the hamster in as part of an ingenious egg launching machine? Look no further than your flatmate’s wet-look hairgel. Bedroom Sleep, you little domestic adventurer. You must be exhausted. Soundtrack for a Cheapskate Each week Cheapskate will be playlisting the skint experience. This week it’s all about - you guessed it - being cheap. Go to cheapskate.com to download this playlist straight into Spotify and comment on our choices. Mo Money Mo Problems - Notorious B.I.G. Biggie had money, Biggie had problems. Now he’s in that big crib in the sky. Feel the lightness of your wallet and rejoice Money for Nothing - Dire Straits Rock out 80s style with the �Straits and read how to get real money for nothing on p15 in the Cheapskate challenge Taxman - The Beatles Who feels the pain of the taxman more than a multi-millionaire popstar? Just don’t look at your payslips anymore, we reckon Common People - Pulp If you called your dad he could stop it all yeah? Well my dad’s blocked my number and moved house Gold Digger - Kanye West No-one likes a scrounger, but everyone likes this song. Dance round the kitchen and dream of being dug-worthy yourself Money (That’s What I Want) - The Blues Brothers Everyone has covered this tune. That’s because everyone wants some money. See? You’re in excellent company Skint and Minted - The Libertines Few people know the highs and lows of city life than a drug addict. Remember, there’s always someone worse off Next week: Squatting www.cheapskate.com 13. .. .. TA A P ADVERTISEMENT o n ly a fool would pay .. .. .. .. TA A P w w w. ta a p. c om 14. www.cheapskate.com Can three cheapskates make money out of thin air? Armed with budget props, raw cunning and one day in central London, a busker, a kissogram and a woman with a suitcase of old clothes went to find out... www.cheapskate.com 15. R E K S U B O the BON few fans (well, observers). More importantly, I had some cash. It was difficult to tell exactly how much I had earned, as I had put some of my own shrapnel into my guitar case beforehand to save on the embarrassment of making nothing. For my next number, I recruited backing vocalists from the crowd. In truth, the three girls who joined me were my crowd. But no matter, within five minutes I had formed a band. I thought forming a band would be great. I could concentrate on playing without my fingers sticking to the frets while the girls sang three-part, money-making harmonies. Again, my logic failed me. Within minutes we nearly broke up, citing artistic differences. They wanted to sing Miley Cyrus but I only knew songs written in the previous millennium. After deciding that the Miley Cyrus song was too difficult for me to play, we compromised on Johnny Cash. With our creative differences aside, the girls and I flourished. A valiant rendition of the Man in Black’s Ring of Fire brought the people of Covent Garden to their knees, yelling for more. Well, not quite, but we did receive a few sympathy pennies. Our stock was on the up, but like the Sex Pistols and Stone Roses before us, we disbanded at our zenith, in a blaze of glory. As Neil Young once said “It’s better to burn out, than to fade away... my my, hey hey.” Indeed. I shared my takings with the band, bid farewell to our dwindling public and slung my guitar over my shoulder for the trek home. After an hour in the shower with a large bottle of shampoo my hair is clean and I am £5.57 richer. I was in a band at university. I knew the best way to make a quick buck in London: just belt out some rock classics for the baying and paying Covent Garden crowds. Looking back, my logic was flawed. My band made no money - why would I now? In Covent Garden, I realised I needed a gimmick. The public won’t accept a scruffy singer with an acoustic guitar anymore. They need star power. I decided to inject my performance with the spirit of rock’s most successful singer and earner – Bono. I hit the shops, Stars In Their Eyes style. Sunglasses, black leather jacket and tub of Brylcreem later, I was ready to rock. Sticky fingers were my first downfall. Bono’s barnet must require a mountain of product to stay slicked back like that. I was covered in the stuff and my fretplay was severely limited as a result. On the upside, I had been professional enough to restring my old acoustic. But I neglected to learn any U2 songs. Or practise. Musicians tell me London crowds are tough – spoilt for choice, presumably. I wasn’t exactly competing with the line-up at the O2, but I did have the other performers in the square to compete with. Things were not looking good. I was flanked by talent: a magician with better patter than Del Boy Trotter and a man who dressed up and stood very still. The heat was on. I took a deep breath. The audience would forgive dodgy hair and fudged chords if I could belt out a sweet vocal melody. I closed my eyes and channelled the spirit of Bono. I began to sing. My choice of song could not have been gutsier. One, by U2, begins: “Did I disappoint you or leave a bad taste in your mouth?” I didn’t wait for the crowd to answer. As the words flowed out, I opened my eyes to discover I had a 16. www.cheapskate.com T THE KISSOGRAM wo dads paid £20,000 for their daughters to kiss Twilight hunk Robert Pattinson. I thought 50p for a peck on my cheek would be a blatant bargain. Apparently it is not. For the Cheapskate Challenge, I decided to save on costs and use what my mamma gave me - prostituting myself on the streets of Covent Garden. I would accept no less than 50p for a kiss on the cheek, £1 for a lipsmacker and a fiver for a full on porno snog. The outfit was simple. I took a cardboard box from a skip, ripped some holes for my head and arms and stuck on some A4 sheets of paper. �Kiss me for 50p!’ I wrote, �on the lips for £1’ with tongues for a fiver’. My only expenditure was the 53p value sellotape I bought to stick the signs to the box. My tongue, lips and cheeks (facial) were there for the taking. I slipped on the outfit and as my head lingered in the dark space between box and outside world I swear I heard the London crowd all at once pucker up. As it turns out, most of them were �pah’-ing in ridicule. “Urr, that’s dir’y”, said a schoolboy, pointing me out to his mates. I went over to explain that I was really quite a hygienic person. “Step away from the underage boys!” shouted their teacher. An elderly lady was smiling in the distance so I jogged over. “How can I guarantee you are disease free?” she asked. Unable to provide a doctor’s note confirming my lack of facial Gonorrhoea, the pensioner hobbled on. I walked around shouting “kiss me for 50p” at the top of my voice - all shame and inhibition had gone with the paedophile accusation – and more people began to notice. I could see some considering it – even fishing in pockets for shrapnel (yes, possibly to throw at me) - but as soon as I got eye contact they would shuffle away. One mouthy teenage girl asked “how much for a pound?” I said a kiss on the lips. She looked at me like I misunderstood. Aided by a friendly barrow boy – “Fresh kisses! Get your fresh kisses here! Best kisses in London! Credit crunch kisses, ladies and gentlemen! 2 for £1! You won’t find a cheaper kiss anywhere else today!” - my luck soon improved. A 50 year old from Watford gave me £2 for a kiss on the lips while her friend took a photo. “To show my kids,” she explained. “I’m going to put them on Facebook. They’re going to DIE!” Fellow challenger Bono then chipped in and followed me around singing �Kiss me’ by Sixpence None the Richer. It worked, with business picking up further. A group of French tourists came within earshot. Perfect! “Donnez moi bisoux! Donnez moi bisou!” A kindly few obliged, but none fancied paying a fiver to show off their national technique. A man then gave me a couple of quid. Not to kiss me himself but for a picture of me being kissed by our Cheapskate suitcase seller. Whatever. It was another £2 in the pocket. The high point was the pound I earned from a fellow Covent Garden performer: a human statue painted in black. They don’t move for anybody. But he waddled over and planted a soft black kiss on my cheek. “You’re going to get a thousand kisses from beautiful girls today,” he whispered in my ear. He was wrong. I got 15 kisses – 13 on the cheek and three on the lips. And most were from oldies with scurvy and a sense of humour. Still, it was fun, I earned £11.97 and I’ve got a black lip mark on my face that I’m not washing off any time soon. www.cheapskate.com 17. the suitcase seller S o I cheated. When my editor said we all had to go out and find inventive ways of making money, I saw, or rather could smell, a suitcase filled with musty clothes under a desk and thought �that must be worth a bob or two’. The boss wasn’t sure but I argued back: “surely being a cheapskate is all about recycling, reusing, salvaging, blah, blah, blah” (this goes for content for articles too – read on page 26 how the suitcase ended up in the office). He was convinced, but warned me I had minus £16 to start with as I had to pay back the price of the case. Off I went, rolling my big red case behind me. I decided to try my luck on Portobello Road. I’ve never found anything there for under 50 quid, so was sure my wares would attract the eye of some bargain-hunting west Londoners. The first challenge was picking a spot. There were only a few people about and I was already knackered from dragging the bloody bag. I soon chose a busier pitch inbetween two bric-abrac stalls, opposite the Electric Cinema. I hoped the fact the neighbouring stalls were friendly would stop them dobbing me in for not having a licence. Sitting on the curb, I unzipped the case and started yelling in my best East End drawl: “50p an item – everything must go!” A group of rather attractive men sitting in a bar opposite were rather amused by my shouting. I heard one of them say: “she’s obviously had a few”. Unfortunately, I had not. To my surprise, passers-by began flocking. Petite, welldressed women crowded round, rifling through the size 20 Primark dresses and shirts – women can’t resist a good deal. A few men came over to see what the fuss was about; one even bought some pink heart-patterned shorts, claiming they were for his girlfriend. 18. One nervous moment came when a small uniformed guy walked towards me with a white ticket in hand. Thinking that I was about to be charged for illegal trading, I began frantically preparing excuses to get me out of a £50 fine. Luckily, he sailed on past and placed the ticket on a car parked just behind me. Phew. A few hours in and the items were still selling. Some pennypinching women tried to haggle me down from 50p. There was also a fair amount of concern among the punters that I’d stolen the case from a poor, now bagless tourist, though it didn’t seem to stop them buying. Stupidly, I hadn’t bothered to go through the case in the office (time is money after all) so a load of worn, secondhand underwear was left inside. I could see some were put off by having to touch oversized granny knickers to get to an Ann Harvey smock underneath. As the stalls began to pack up, my main priority suddenly became not dragging the case back with me on the Central Line. I decided to try and get rid of the whole thing for a fiver. The lucky buyer would get all the remaining contents as an extra perk (by now, the greying underwear and some shorts with stains on the crotch). For over half an hour I yelled “just a fiver for the case!” “Wheels in perfect order!” To my bafflement and despair, there were no takers. In the end I gave up. I’d already made £20 in three hours (minus £16 made it an impressive £4 an hour). I abandoned the case on the street corner and crossed over to the bar to spend my hard-won earnings. They only bought me two Notting Hill-priced glasses of wine, but I got chatted up by one of the men who had laughed at me earlier in the day. www.cheapskate.com S T L U S E R E TH Other ways we could have made money... Sperm Donation Sounds good doesn’t it fellas. Sperm donation sees you get paid (usually around £250) for a simple bit of hard labour. However, before all the guys go rushing out the door, you can’t just rock up to a bank and make a rewarding deposit. First you must pass a strict screening process. Don’t even think about applying if you have any kind of sexual diseases or genetic disorders. And remember: in 18 years you could answer a fateful knock on the door and find your teenage self looking back at you. Contact the London Fertility Clinic for more info at www.lfc.org. uk. Medical Testing Depending on the study, and your suitability, medical testing could actually be an earner. Usually, a volunteer will be paid £70-£150 per 24 hours spent in a clinic. The studies themselves are diverse and can involve anything from sleep deprivation to testing a new treatment for eczema. Again, you have to pass a series of eligibility tests and the most well-paid studies are competitive. In addition, studies involving long stays in a clinic are boring, and unpleasant side effects (including death) are rare but not unknown. Check out www.londonclinicaltrials.co.uk to take an eligibility test and view studies now recruiting. Visit our website to watch videos of the challenge and to upload your own attempts! After a very scrupulous test we discovered that selling kisses will make you the most dosh... so pucker up and hit the streets of London Renting Your Stuff Being short on cash and rich in stuff can actually prove a money earner. Thousands of people are signing up to websites like rentnotbuy.co.uk and uk.zilok.com where people are renting their various bits and bobs to other people. Everything from fussball tables, mobile disco equipment and designer handbags are listed. Swapping Ever hear of Kyle MacDonald? In 2005, he began a series of swaps which saw him start with a paperclip and end up with a house. The profile of swapping has subsequently soared, with thousands of people trying to get those things they always wanted – a car, a holiday, an afternoon with Cliff Richard – by trading up. Not a money maker per se, but you never know where that half-eaten sandwich could take you. Try www.swapshop.co.uk or www.iswap.co.uk. Selling Hair It’s a bit of a long shot – literally. In order to sell hair to wig makers you need to have at least 10 inches of hair, and prefereably more. Moreover, most will demand that your hair is free of contaminates such as gel, dyes or treatments. But the rewards could be great if you have particuarly nice locks – wig makers have been known to pay out four-figure sums for one batch. Get a Job Somewhat hard to find these days. These mythical creatures usually hang out around job centres and pullouts of local newspapers. If you track one down, let us know on the website… www.cheapskate.com 19. ADVERTISEMENT frugalube our cheapest lubricants yet 20. frugalube frugalube SPIT GOB www.cheapskate.com frugalube MUCUS THE dinner here’s the Forgetdinner.co.uk is macrobiotic diet fa not some d. website for all thos It is a new e ford dinner dates an who can’t afd straight to the main want to go course: sex If you’re up for a little NSA action log on at www.forgetdinner.co.uk *Some names have been changed www.cheapskate.com Photo Beach table: Flickr L ondoners are cutting back on all aspects of their spending and that includes their love lives. The internet dating scene has been swept by a glut of sites specifically for no-strings fun. Forgetdinner is just one of them. It provides a meeting space for those who want to bypass expensive time-wasting and get straight to the sex. It is proving a huge success; the site has had an 80 per cent increase in new profiles over the past six months. Cheapskate wondered what it would be like to give up on fairytale romance and step into the world of fast love. So we logged on to Forgetdinner and created a profile. It was easy to get started. Hardly any information was needed (it can be fake), there are no safety checks and it is all free of charge. Our first message was from Nick, a 28-year-old from Stockwell. “Hi, I like your profile and tone,” he wrote. “ I’m a thirty-year-old, who knows how to treat a lady and am after some fun NSA [no strings attached]. Message me back and we can arrange to meet.” Within minutes our inbox was filling with messages. It was hard not to feel a little flattered, though we soon remembered it was the fictional �Anastasia’ character they liked, not us. A slight put off was that many confessed they were in relationships but were looking for some action on the side. Tim, 42, from Kent, messaged: “Hi, you sound great, I’m married but looking for some more fun.” Howard James, the marketing director of Forgetdinner, defended this aspect of the site. “Although we are aimed at singles, there are almost certainly married people using Forgetdinner to facilitate affairs right now,” he said. “Given the no-strings, fun nature of the site it will be attractive to those trapped in an unhappy marriage who want an uncomplicated sexual liaison.” An hour in, after viewing porno-style profile pictures and messages from an array of leering men, we realised we wouldn’t be finding The One we had hoped for here any time soon. Forgetting dinner is not for us. But others are enjoying the sex-driven site. One member, Jess*, 32, from Holborn, said: “Forgetdinner is quick, simple and painless.” Jess has met three men via the site. “It is refreshing not to take on other people’s careers or financial situations. You’re there for fun that is hopefully mutual and free.” 21. The record store’s obituary has been publis where two of the best are thriving A chink of light at the end of a very dark tunnel for Sister Ray in Soho Photos Nicole Duong T 22. he music industry is dying. In fact, it’s dead. The internet came along with a large shotgun called �Piracy’ and blew it away in a hail of buckshot and cries of �FREE music.’ Record sales plummeted. Major labels’ profits fell 4000 per cent. Record stores up and down the land closed their doors. Kanye West couldn’t get out of his gold-plated four-poster and Amy Winehouse became too depressed to hit the pub. The end. Good story - but not true. Kanye is a little more upbeat these days and our Amy still finds time for the odd binge. Meanwhile, the music industry is seeing those fabled green shoots of recovery. Buoyed by innovations such as Spotify and Last.fm, the industry appears ready to embrace the possibilities of the internet, instead of suing everyone with a broadband connection. But what about the humble record store? Undoubtedly they have received a fairly brutal kicking at the hands of the digital revolution. Over 1000 independent stores existed in the UK over a decade ago – now only around 350 remain. But they too are experiencing a mild comeback. Whether reinventing themselves with performance spaces and bars or simply offering a product no one else does, record stores – those still standing – are finally looking up. A comeback it is then. Maybe not of Take That proportions but a Boyzone one at least. At Pure Groove, in Farringdon, just across the street from Smithfield Market, a large group of cool things are gathered. They strain against the glass shop front to get a glimpse inside the rammed interior where chamber-popist turned electro-muse Patrick Wolf is playing a free gig. Later on, Graham Coxon will be popping in to perform an acoustic set. Store manager Simon Singleton is flat out, serving drinks and selling the odd CD. A few days later, with the shop quieter and airier, he sums up the ethos Pure Groove has hit on to succeed. “Reinvention is the only way for record stores to survive,” he says. “A small number of really good niche shops will survive because they offer music no one else does. But www.cheapskate.com shed prematurely – especially in London, despite the toughest of times. other stores will add things – maybe bring in a bar or a studio in the basement. There is a clear need to transform with many of them.” Pure Groove epitomises this �rip it up and start again’ mentality. The store opened in 1989, specialising in hard-to-find dance imports before setting up it’s own labels. Most famous was Locked On, the garage imprint that launched the careers of Artful Dodger and The Streets. Pure Groove reopened last year after a comprehensive revamp. In came a large performance space with a stage, bar, cinema, tables, chairs and an art gallery. Amazingly, out went the records. The traditional record store concept – musty, wooden shelves filled with dusty vinyl and CDs, browsed over by muso-nerds – has been discarded almost entirely for an airy space in which anything goes. Singleton envisions a place where people come to see what’s going on and end up staying for 20 minutes. It’s a bold move, but is there a danger people will forget about the records completely? No chance, says Singleton: “It will always be anchored around the music. Pure Groove would lose it’s appeal it if was just a venue. Business has been good since we relaunched and in-store gigs are what we thrive on. Because of them we know the records we need to chase and push.” But what of community spirit, the essence of any good record store? With emphasis removed from browsing and chatting, could Pure Groove become just another hangout, which happens to stock some records?. Not according to Singleton. Excellent taste is so integral to how punters think of Pure Groove that the music will always be the driving factor, he says. “When we have an in-store, people just come no matter what, even if they haven’t heard of the band. People come based on trust.” An important part of Pure Groove is their label arm, which holds publishing deals with 10 bands and manages five others. It is this dedication to grass roots music, even in lean economic times, which has enamoured Pure Groove to London’s music community. And for musicians, the stores still make a huge difference: “Bands aren’t interested in the internet scrum. Record stores and physical products give what they do meaning and substance.” Sister Ray owner Phil Barton is feeling good. Not huge, things-are-great-happy-days good. But the kind a long-term hospital patient feels after being discharged. “There’s a chink of light at the end of a very dark tunnel,” he says. “It’s the first time in a long time we’re feeling positive about retail.” Last year Sister Ray, situated in the heart of Soho, went Strike up conversation over a record into administration. The music press instantly issued an obituary signalling the death of the record store. After all, Sister Ray is one of London’s best known indies. It featured on the cover of Oasis’s What’s the Story Morning Glory? and was the first shop to stock the Arctic Monkey’s debut EP. It is famous for its untouchable range of hard-to-find records and for the snobbishness of its staff – the hallmark of a true indie record store. But the digital revolution hit Sister Ray hard. Barton was forced to beg and borrow in order to buy the shop from the administrators. Now, as Barton says, they’re “keeping the wolves at bay”. The most important thing is that customers are coming through record shop doors. “People realise that unless they support them, they won’t have them,” he says. “Also, there’s a last man standing attitude to the remaining stores. If we www.cheapskate.com 23. can come through the end of this process then we’ve got a good chance of moving forward.” To Barton, the alternative is unthinkable: “If Sister Ray was to close then there wouldn’t be a full service record store in London’s West End and that just wouldn’t be right. Unfortunately the things that will kill us are out of our control.” The biggest problem for Sister Ray has been dealing with the music industry as it flails in the digital flood. Major labels have passed on distribution costs to the stores who find the costs more difficult to meet. “Whether you like it or not, the money flows down from the major labels and if they aren’t making any money, less is going to come down.” Sister Ray’s solution to financial woes is simple – remind people that record browsing in an actual record store is rewarding and fun. “When you come into Sister Ray you can hear someone actually recommend something,” says Barton. “And that’s much more powerful than reading a recommendation in print. Also, if you get a record for free then you are much more likely to discard it. People cherish albums because they persevere with them.” Interestingly, this is pretty much the philosophy that has underpinned Sister Ray from the beginning. The shop itself has barely changed since 1987. It’s still a dark, musty recess with little natural light – the bat cave of record stores. Every inch of floor space is taken up with stacks of albums. Sister Ray is the antithesis of Pure Groove’s mantra of reinvention. By underlining its traditional values, Sister Ray is emerging into a future with a brighter beat. A big part of their store is a large section of recommendations from which many customers find something new and unexpected. “We carry a wide catalogue and put our recommendations out front. It’s vital the customer buys new things they haven’t bought before. Major labels are charging more and more for new releases and it would be a real shame if we just did back catalogue,” Barton explains. “People come in looking for something but emerge with something completely different. What people like is the browsing, the physical aspect of a bricks and mortar record store.” The physical aspect – this is the core that Sister Ray and Pure Groove share, even if they do it in totally different ways. But the different approaches are not important. What these stores show is that survival is possible with a little creativity. Scrap the obituaries – the record stores aren’t dead yet. Sister Ray 34-35 Berwick Street, W1F Rough Trade 91 Brick Lane, E1 Pure Groove 6-7 West Smithfield, EC1A Since a refurb last year, Pure Groove has built it’s reputation on in-store gigs from the likes of Supergrass, Mystery Jets and Graham Coxon. Worth a look for an event although traditional record browsers may be disappointed – they do most of their trade online. What not to say: Where are all the CDs?! 24. The Godfather of British indie record stores is spread across two locations with a sprawling new music mecca just off Brick Lane. Despite the record industry’s travails RT is in rude health, combining its many label pursuits with one of the biggest perusable CD and Vinyl collections in the UK. What not to say: I wish the major labels would buy out these smalltime indies…. Possibly the most iconic of London’s indie record stores, SR has suffered as a result of the industry’s changing face. But despite going into administration last year its doors remain open and it’s often full with people loading up on CDs. A last bastion of the physical experience and filled with the kind of High Fidelity muso-snob staff required by any record store worth its stripes. What not to say: Do you have any Take That? Music and Video Exchange Camden, Greenwich and Soho. Multiple locations strewn across London and a bargain- hunters paradise. This place has the musty atmosphere and décor of a 1970s snooker hall. But it’s a must visit – you’ll find it difficult to leave without an armful of dusty records. What not to say: Ever think of giving this place a spring clean? www.cheapskate.com Sounds of the Universe 7 Broadwick Street, W1F Good example of a record store finding its niche in the market – this place is perfect for all your jazz-funk, samba, minimalist, avantgarde, polkagypsy infusion soul needs. What not to say: I’ve never heard of calypso-core, is it any good? ADVERTISEMENT SALE WITH PRICES LIKE THESE WE’LL GO BUST REDUNDANCY IMARK WAS £14.99 NOW £7.99 SPAR TREK WAS £18.99 NOW £6.99 WAS £14.99 NOW £2.99 TOTAL PRODUCT RECALL NOW £4.99 WAS £33.99 NOW £16.99 WAS £12.99 NOW £7.99 Photos imdb.com WAS £11.99 CUTS www.cheapskate.com 25. BOEING, GOING, GONE Fancy a suitcase of other people’s stuff? A f lying visit to the lost luggage lottery and it could be yours - pants and all Models show off the suitcase contents Stuart, far left: Women’s vest and shorts set, Primark Polka-dot belt worn as tie, George �Baby’, far left,: Pink babygrow with hat, Mothercare Vanessa, centre: Summer dress by Peacocks Pink top from George Miranda, right: Floral top by Deisel Pink bra, Primark Sure deodorant All models: unlabelled neon socks 26. www.cheapskate.com D ead people, bankrupt people and luggage-less holiday makers: their belongings are all up for grabs at R F Greasbys, a small auction house in Tooting. There’s a peculiar mix of stuff here, with boxing gloves, crates of Carlsberg, and used perfume – the remnants of other peoples lives – stacked side by side against the grey wood-chip wallpaper. But it’s the lure of the lost luggage lottery that draws most people in on Tuesday mornings. Dozens of secondhand suitcases are piled up in the room at the front, waiting to be snapped up by their new owners. Bidders get only the vaguest description - “black trolley case cont. mixed clothing” - and you can’t look inside before you buy. There might be an Armani dress hiding in there, or it could be full of skid-marked pants. Greasbys has been run as a family business since it opened in 1919, and sells goods on behalf of airports, bailiffs, customs and the police. The bags are from Gatwick and Heathrow; lost luggage that has been left unclaimed after three months or more is sold off to the highest bidder. About 150 cases are sold every week, so if you lost your bag on the way to Majorca, it might just have ended up in Tooting. For a beginner, the auction house is not the most welcoming of places. But it brings together an eclectic assortment of people, from young professionals to old hands who’ve barely missed a sale in decades. Christine Sachett, the owner, plays mother hen to her brood of �boys’ who do all the heavy work. A no-nonsense middle-aged woman with blonde hair and a black dress, she says we can’t take photos inside. One of the guys leans in towards me. “I wouldn’t cross her,” he whispers. I decide to glean some bargain-hunting tips from the regulars before the auction gets underway at 10.30am. “Go for the bags that look better quality or have brand names on, like Samsonite,” Kelly Jones, 29, from Kent, advises. She has found Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren outfits before, but says you can’t always tell where you’ll hit the jackpot: “They muck about with the bags, sometimes you’ll get good stuff in tatty bags, or cheap stuff in posh bags,” she says. Richard from Hampstead has earned his living at Greasbys for two decades by selling on the contents of suitcases. “The best thing I ever found was a diamond ring in the lining of one of the bags” he says. Another time he came across £60 in a jacket pocket inside a suitcase. But even if there’s no Tiffany in your lost luggage, money could be made from selling the clothes on eBay. Or you could get a clutch of new outfits on the cheap. But there’s the possibility of getting an unpleasant surprise too. The auction staff are supposed to take out the dirty laundry, but sometimes they forget, says Richard. “It’s been in there for months. You can imagine the smell as you open it, it’s horrible.” To enter the bidding you have to put down a £100 deposit (this is not for the totally skint). Armed with card number 157, I bid on a leopard-skin trolley case. But it quickly flies past my £20 limit, as do most of the bags I had my eye on. £35 seems a lot to pay for what could be a bag of tat. But all of a sudden I’m in luck. Lot number 48, a “red trolley case cont. ladies clothing”, is mine for £16. Yes! Leaving the auction at 4pm that day (you have to wait until the bidding’s finished to pick up any goods) it felt like I was coming home from holiday. But with somebody else’s stuff. “Been anywhere nice?” said a cheery man in a lift on the way home. I had to admit that I’d actually just bought the suitcase at an auction down the road, and I had no idea what was in the bag that I was trailing behind me. Had the owner been on a beach holiday? Gone skiing? Hopefully she’d lost it on the way out when everything was clean…It seemed very personal suddenly, as if I’d nicked someone’s belongings. Then came the moment of truth. As I unzipped the bag and threw it open I was presented with…lots of size 22 beachwear from George (ASDA) and underwear and pyjamas from Primark. Seems I’d nabbed the suitcase of a large woman on a beach holiday. And it was more Costa del Sol than French Riviera. Amongst the treasures were a lone beaded flip flop, deodorant, plenty of pants, some new baby clothes, a couple of nice vest tops, stained shorts and a grey bra that would fit on an average person’s head (we tried it). But there were some size 12 and 14 tops and shorts too, a tell-tale sign that they do mix up the contents of the bags. Once I’d paid the extra charges the suitcase came to about £18 – pretty expensive for a haul of secondhand, cheap clothes. But maybe next time I’ll get Armani and a diamond ring. “It’s been in there for months. You can imagine the smell...it’s horrible” Greasby’s is at 211 Longley Rd, SW17 9LG. Auctions held every Tuesday at 10.30am, viewings from 2.30pm-6.30pm Mondays and 8.30am-10.30am Tuesdays. Tel: 02086722972. www.greasbys.com. Auctioneering: the best of the rest Bumblebee Criterion Frank G Bowen General Sells property seized by the police. Lots feature everything from clocks to bikes to militaria. Sells antiques, jewellery and contemporary furnishing in Islington and Wandsworth. www.bumblebeeauctions. co.uk Everything from lost property to police stock disposal. Also cars if you’re in the market for a cheap motor Anything from delicate cut glass and crystal to powerful diesel-powered road diggers can be found here. Online auctions selling antiques and art. Low commission rates make this popular with buyers and sellers. Weekly auctions tend to include furniture, rugs, clocks and other homewares as well as cameras and jewellery. www.criterionauctions.co.uk www.frankgbowen.co.uk www.auction. u-net.com www.luckners. com www.northlondonauctions. com www.cheapskate.com Luckner’s North London 27. ADVERTISEMENT Photo freakingnews.com L` O 28. ’ RDEAL IS IT WORTH IT? www.cheapskate.com STYLE CELEBRITY AND B A 6’0 5’10 5’8 5’6 5’4 D 6’0 5’10 5’8 5’6 C 5’4 5’2 5’2 Did I really buy that? Michelle Obama recently wore $540 shoes to visit a shelter for homeless Americans Jennifer Anniston spent £40,000 on styling for the London Marley & Me premiere. A snip for such shiny locks Answer: A Spot the tramp Celebrities are known for their glitz and glam but they are always much more interesting without it. Dodging paps or just having a cheeky day off, many are now choosing to sport the �tramp’ look. Here we have former tween actress, twin powerhouse and multimillionaire Mary-Kate Olsen (middle-right), declared a fashion icon by The New York Times for the fabulous “homeless” look she’s adopted. Stylist Karen Berenson says: “the Olsens are the real thing. Mary-Kate makes tramps look cool.” How thankful those tramps must be. Homeless chic has fans and followers amongst all the Stateside glitterati. Next to Mary-Kate is former Hollywood hunk Joaquin Phoenix (middle left), last seen looking like a tramp at LAX airport. Oscar nominated for a razor-sharp turn as Emperor of Rome, Phoenix has gone from pin-up to puke-up with the addition of a hobo-licious beard. Even Drew Barrymore has ditched haute couture for homeless hotness. If ET was stuck trying to phone home today, he and Barrymore would be sharing a Special Brew and a park bench. The best dressed by miles in our lineup is actual homeless man Craig* (far left), wearing a pair of pink flares, multiple layered tops and carrying a fetching manbag. Celebs take note. Mulberry Ho bo: a snip at £1,500 www.cheapskate.com Victoria Beckham reportedly owns 100 Hermès Birkin bags, in an array of different colours and sizes. Each bag, just a little different from the last, costs about £10,000 Kylie Minogue sipped a £35,000 cocktail called �Flawless’ at London nightclub Movida. The cognac and champagne tipple is the most expensive in the world. Beyonce performed a rousing rendition of “Get Me Bodied” at the Black Enetertainment Channel Awards, wearing $100,000 gold Balenciaga leggings and a matching bra top An unnamed Russian oil oligarch became the proud owner of the world’s most expensive house when he purchased a Cote d’Azur mansion for £390m last summer The most expensive house in the UK is steel magnate Lakshmi Mittal’s £117m mansion in Kensington Photos Phoenix: National Photo Group; Olsen: Splash news; Barrymore: gossipnewz.com; Knowles: Kevin Mazur; Handbag: Mulberry Virgin Records boss Tony Matthews paid £4000 to fly a takeaway curry from the UK to New York for a dinner he was hosting with Beyonce. He wanted an �authentic curry’. From Lingfield, in Surrey 29. Iliana Boyiakis The fine art of talent spotting Britain’s best young artists will be exhibiting at university art shows in London throughout June. Go with an eye for talent and some cash in your pocket and you might just head home with an original piece by the next Damien Hirst. Charles Saatchi does it. So should you C harles Saatchi is probably not a Cheapskate reader. The multi-millionaire advertising industry magnate and collector of art and Nigella Lawson, is not, at first glance, the archetypal cheap liver. But he and we could have something in common. Or at least we should have: spending the summer on the lookout for talent at the London graduate art and design exhibitions. Every year a new batch of bonkers and brilliant students of the aesthetic are tipped out onto the streets of London for one final hurrah – the graduate show. These displays are a chance for the next generation to show off the work they have slaved over during their degrees. They are also, more importantly, an opportunity to accrue commissions or sales. This is where to head to pick up a future Damien Hirst (ex-Goldsmiths) or to commission the next Terence Conran (ex-Central St Martins), then watch the value of your investment (hopefully) soar. The biggest of the London shows is Free Range, an eight-week long exhibition at The Old Truman Brewery on Brick Lane, featuring art and design graduate pieces from universities all over the country. Friday June 19 is the opening of a three-day photography show at Free Range and Thursday June 25 is the beginning of the dedicated art shows. The exhibition runs until July 20 and entry to all exhibitions is free. Andrew Marsh, 21, is midway through a design innovation combined BA and MA at Queen Mary, University of London. His exhibit at Free Range is the Synflower, an instrument based on principles of music therapy. Andrew’s plan for Free Range is to gauge public reaction to his work and “show off my talent” before trying to become an established designer. Kentaro Doi, 21, a fine art graduate, is exhibiting sculptures entitled �Just War’ at the Goldsmiths BA art show opening on June 19. “At Goldsmiths, a lot of students aren’t interested in selling their work,” he said. “They are more interested in walking around and 30. seeing what the other art is.” That may be the case, but the success of the college’s richest art alumnus is not far from thought: “People do come to see what we do. Goldsmiths is famous for its art - after all it produced Damien Hirst.” So back to Mr Saatchi, renowned for frequenting the graduate shows. In the best art tradition of �knowing what I like’, he has described himself as just “a sad kid who wants to find a new sweetie”. The sweeties he accumulated in the early 90s made the fortunes of Young British Artists Tracy Emin, Hirst and the Chapman Brothers – kicking off the entire Brit Art movement in the process. Damien Hirst’s first spot paintings went for about £300 whilst he was still at Goldsmiths. A small one now fetches over ten times that. Got a few hundred quid and a good eye for talent? Now is the time to get on to the streets of London and pick up some sweeties of your own. www.cheapskate.com Shows not to miss this summer Goldsmiths BA: 19-22 June, MA: 10-13 July Camberwell College of Art BA Fine Art show: June 23-27 MA: July 15-19 Central St Martins Foundation diploma show: June 23-27 BA Fine Art: June 23-27 MA: July 15-29 Chelsea College of Art BA Hons Fine Art: June 20-24 MA: September 3-6 Wimbledon College of Art Diploma in Art and Design: June 17-23 BA Fine Art: June 17-22 MA: 4-7 September Ben Aslett Adele Stephenson Andrew Prentice Katie Elder Helen McCutcheon www.cheapskate.com Class of 2009: Student art exhibited at Free Range 31. intern-al bleeding J ob prospects for Britain’s brainy have never been so poor. With the global economy as stable as Susan Boyle, and the number of graduates at an all-time high, work is scarce. According to a survey of 100 firms by High Fliers Research, there are 47 per cent fewer entry-level jobs available this year, making 2009 officially the worst year to graduate for over two decades. Students who have paid extortionate top-up fees for three years to ready themselves for their dream careers are boiling kettles in an office near you. Do you want to be bored, unchallenged and stuck in an uncomfortable chair with only a few discreet glances at Facebook to get you through the day? If you have a great degree and can make enough tea to satisfy an office full of people whose jobs you could do in your sleep, join the rest of your graduate friends in the queue for work experience. There’s nothing like a bit of casual exploitation to bolster your CV. Lack of pay, menial errands and social isolation are the common ills of work experience. But we have found tales of much greater woe. If you are reading this under an office table whilst waiting for the next tedious task to come your way, enjoy the schadenfreude... the corporate cleaner Susanna Underfoot, 26 Photos Flickr My university tutors always said the best way to get a job in accountancy was to get a summer internship with a big firm in the City. Being a hard-working, bright, go-getting kind of girl I took their advice. I wasn’t being paid to be there, but I knew it would pay in the long run. And either way, the practical skills would help me in my course. The job was tedious. I worked from 8am till 8pm doing admin tasks that required no accounting expertise and didn’t further my ability to do the job in the slightest. But at least I had my foot in the door, and it’s not as if they wanted to use me as a personal slave or anything like that. Or so I thought. Midway through the internship my job developed. Instead of working as a general dogsbody I was helping one of the head accountants with his work. It could have been great, developing a personal relationship with a big-hitter and seeing the workings of the top of the industry from the inside. Instead, I became a servant to his puerile daughter. My boss had been divorced the previous year and had to look after his spoilt daughter for a portion of the summer. She was living in his rented luxury flat in London and spent so much of her time falling out of plush nightclubs that I had to take over her chores. My most demoralising task was washing her vomit-stained clothes and bed sheets. I had to trek to and from laundrettes on sweltering buses with designer dresses spilling out of a laundry basket that reeked of Paris Hilton style excess. I was now acting as a maid for a bratty bitch who was older than I was, but couldn’t manage the stress of paying other people to wash her own clothes. At the end of the summer I was offered a job with another firm based on my impressive reference from the bigwig boss. Every cloud... 32. www.cheapskate.com the crocked critic Lorna Duke, 24 Getting work experience at a national broadsheet is supposed to be quite something for a journalism student. I had emailed my CV, phoned and generally kept nagging to secure a single week over my Christmas holidays. I was to be working on the food desk and was so excited. I thought this would be my big break and a chance for the nation to see my name in print. Instead, I ended up with food poisoning. In an effort to cover the credit crunch with a degree of flair and creativity, the bright sparks at the paper decided to run a week-long review of the country’s cheapest food ranges. I thought I’d be eating like a queen while working for the newspaper; instead I ended up gorging on foods with the nutritional value of Aldi’s budget range cat food. If I was less than enamoured with the idea of ingesting cut-price groceries, the paper’s food critic was furious. She point blank refused to let anything nonorganic pass across her lips. So it was me who had to try the cheapest, vilest and most fattening foods Britain has to offer. Monday was spent eating mounds of plastic marketed as cheese; Tuesday was meat day; Wednesday pasta sauces, and so on. The worst moment of the week was reserved for Saturday morning, when I rushed out to buy the newspaper. All my friends and relatives were told to buy it to see my first foray into proper journalism. I opened up the food section only to see my name and photo were absent. Instead the regular writer stood beaming, healthy and altogether non-food poisoned over my finely written and much suffered-for words. I burned the damn thing. the poop scooper Gracie Coupland, 26 I had just finished my English degree in Durham and wanted to go into fashion journalism. I wanted to write for Vogue and was told the best way to get into fashion was to do some work experience with a fashion PR company. The boss of the company I worked for was a very powerful lady in the industry so I was chuffed to find myself helping her out for two weeks. My path to the top seemed to be paved with sartorial gold. The first few days were intimidating as my boss came across like Meryl Streep’s character in The Devil Wears Prada. But if it worked out for Anne Hathaway, it could work out for me. Or so I thought. I found myself making coffee and trying to look as pretty as the rest of the girls in the office for the first week. Not exactly what I’d been hoping for but not too demoralising. I knew if I kept my head down the boss would give me more responsibility in the second week. I turned up bright and early the next Monday morning, awaiting my promotion. Sure enough, the boss had a special project for me. I was over the moon. Until she handed me her Chihuahua, dog lead and designer poop scoop. My new role was to walk her rat-dog through the streets of London and make sure that any excrement was tidied. I was sent out to Hyde Park with champagne kisses and the words “If she’s being temperamental give her right leg a lift into the air and she’ll do her business no problem,” ringing in my ears. Two weeks in the fashion industry were enough for me. www.cheapskate.com Want work experience at Cheapskate? Send your soul to getusourlunch@cheapskate.com 33. Y L N O E M I t D E T I M I L They pop - you shop. Cheapskate investigates the pop-up eateries and stores emerging at a derelict space near you Photo Lee Iddiols P 34. ants shopping at Marks & Spencer, crowned by dinner at Pizza Express, has long been a British institution. But in scant times (of money, not aforementioned pants), such habits seem unnecessary, and perhaps just a tad permanent. Pop-up shops used to be a way for fashion and art graduates to sell ripped tights and vomit-stained canvasses to the trendy and well informed. A disused space – shop, ship, sitting room, shed – temporarily becomes a boutique, until stock or fickle zeitgeist-obsessed customers run out. Now plummeting budgets and MTV attention spans are bringing the pop-up shop/restaurant out of secret Shoreditch hideaways (well, some of them). Normal people with an interest in cooking and a surplus of chairs are opening up their living rooms as restaurants and taking bookings. Pop-up restaurant sensations MsMarmiteLover and Horton Jupiter are friends running eating establishments from their homes. Word of mouth, Facebook and a blog on veggie cooking tips kept these two �underground restaurants’ in customers. Until, that is, their cool credentials were properly cemented when they were outed in the Guardian. MsMartmiteLover’s Kilburn living room/restaurant will feed you a full vegetarian dinner for £15 per head. Horton’s Wednesdays-only Japanese feast in Dalston will set you back a tenner. Unsurprisingly, both insist vehemently they are not “doing it for the money”. The retail experience is also going domestic. Horton happily admits he bought his mismatched cutlery from jumble sales held in houses and squats. Such short-term home-made shops are less easy to track down on the internet, but a productive afternoon wandering around Brixton Market can prove revealing. After ascertaining that they were legitimate (and not drug dealers or rapists) I followed Paul and Simon into a building on Electric Avenue, through a cast-iron door opened and closed by a massive slide lock. Four flights of stairs up was a bustling landing filled with people perusing second hand books, clothes and furniture. “It’s for the Brixton locals,” says Paul with a shrug. As well as taking money, people swap items with each other. “This is a nice community”, he says. So, you’ve now ditched your M&S boxers in favour of some second hand candle sticks and you’ve waved goodbye to a Pizza Romana to herald in a homemade gyoza dumpling on a stranger’s sofa. But what about those who aren’t quite ready to abandon brands, receipts and VAT bills altogether? Many clothing labels or homeware brands hold sample sales to either trial new products or clear end of season stuff. These aren’t so much �pop-up shops’ as �sneak in and see if anyone notices shops.’ They are usually unadvertised and in place for as little as a day. Cheapskates in denial, or those with expensive other halves to maintain, can find labels like Alexander McQueen, Paul Smith and Nicole Farhi selling for up to 90 per cent off retail price. www.cheapskate.com A Nike pop-up shop in Shoreditch with a limited edition range to peddle The trick to finding sample sales is to befriend a blabbermouth fashionista or hang out where the sales happen – usually big open plan rent-a-spaces like the Old Truman Brewery on Brick Lane, The Old Sessions House in Clerkenwell, Centro One in Camden and myriad town halls, meeting rooms and conference centres across the city. Local vintage boutiques are good places to ask, and check out the drink-sozzled, sample sale-hopping exploits of urbanjunkies.co.uk. Inevitably, the pop-up shop/restaurant notion has been seized in the eagle-like talon of the corporate monoliths that need it least. Most notably Nike, who get one one sniff of urban cool and come running. Nestling on Bateman’s Row in – where else – Shoreditch, the Nike concept store comes and goes with the high-end limited edition collections that it sells. There is more floor space devoted to concrete trainers and sculptures than stock and the walls are covered in one-off paintings of athletes frozen in a nanosecond of sporting superiority. Even the Royal Academy of Arts hosts a sporadic pop-up restaurant-cum-art gallery called Flash, currently closed, until the RAA is next in need of a gastronomic experiment *cough* PR stunt. Pop-ups are fleeting, flighty and perilously close to the cutting edge. Keep your wits about you and your ear to the ground and no doubt a scintillating ephemeral experience is to be had. But perhaps, just sometimes, there is no harm in photocopying Pizza Express 2for1 vouchers like the rest of us. the places going pop 38 Carnaby Street, W1F Plays host to art galleries, second hand clothes boutiques, gift shops The Old Truman Brewery, E1 Sprawling venue full of rooms becoming pop-up restaurants and shops, notable for its designer label sample sales South London As the pop-up restaurant phenomenon ripples out of the trendy cliques that started it, new people and new places, well, pop up. The latest is the Savoy Truffle Club - see savoytrufflesupperclub.com for bookings Westfield shopping centre, W12 Save the Children has teamed up with fashion mag Grazia to host a pop-up shop in an unused space at the uber-mall. Designer threads are all donated, much cheaper than retail price and all proceeds go straight to the charity MsMarmiteLover can be found at marmitelover.blogspot.com. For Horton Jupiter search for �The Secret Ingredient’ on Facebook. www.cheapskate.com 35. Dog Dinner Fed up with the same old cuts of meat? Wasting cash on pet food? we challenged the best (known) chefs in the world to provide cut-price recipes of the highest pedigree Mains: labrador ravioli Side: flash fried terrier puppy salad Dessert: cocker spaniel cheesecake Gordon Ramsay Labrador ravioli One stray labrador Fresh rolled ravioli A big pair of bollocks Right. Now. You’ll need a big pair of bollocks for this one. Got them? Let’s go big boy. Catch a stray dog. What do you mean you don’t want to? Show some fucking passion man! What are you? A pitbull or a poodle? Now – tenderise the flesh. Dog. Ravioli. Oil. Boil. Done. Now fuck off. Jamie Oliver Flash fried terrier puppy salad Photo David Loftus Baby dogs, yeah! Fresh organic Jamie Oliver Sainsbury’s peas, geez! Fresh Jamie Oliver Sainsbury’s spinach, yeah! Pedigree Chum, mate! A CD of my band Scarlet Division to cook to, yeah! 36. Forget about all that fancy schmancy �hote quizene’ crap - cookin’ a dogg is all about salad. From Sainsbury’s. Pukka! Never mind Borough Market, forget Tesco, no mate, not Aldi - ride your push-bike down your local Sainsbury’s for some quality veg. Quality. Buy something with my face on it. Anything! From Sainsbury’s. Next, hush the puppy, take its head off and don’t be squeamish, they’ve had a good few weeks roaming free round your back yard. Fry it up with some lovely fresh Jamie Oliver spinach and peas. Then throw my rubbish CD in the bin. Sprinkle over any leftover Pedigree Chum you have in the cupboard – Rover won’t be needing that anymore. Bish. Bash. Dosh (for me). (And Sainsbury’s). Nigella Lawson Cocker spaniel cheesecake One rigid cocker Nuts Cream Double cream Whipped cream There’s no point making a cheesecake when you can watch me eating a cheesecake. Oh Look! I’m in a nightie. You don’t mind, do you? It’s just so hot in here... Right, let’s get down to it. Give the cocker ten minutes with the melted cheese and you’ll have a hot, creamy mix ready for some tabletop action. No dogging session is never complete without nuts! Sprinkle some over – hmmmm nuts. Wait till the sweet treat goes firm, hard and expands. Give your cocker a little pat and purr like a kitten. Who wants to help me lick the spoon? www.cheapskate.com CHEAPSKATE QUIZ WHAT KIND OF CHEAPSKATE ARE YOU? You’ve saved up enough to take your loved one out for a slap up meal. What do you tip? a) A small piece of bamboo to chew on – it’s nature’s toothbrush. b) I’ve never paid a bill in my life. c) 10 per cent, 15 per cent if I’m seriously impressed with the service. d) Get a better job. That’s a good tip for a waiter, right? Your friend is short of cash and urgently needs to borrow a tenner. What do you think? a) The only tenners I’ve ever had I’ve laminated and stitched together to make a raincoat. b) No chance. There’s no way I’m spending money on anyone other than me. c) I’m not exactly flush but what goes around comes around. Never know when I might need a loan myself. d) I’ve only got fifties. And my driver carries my wallet for me. www.cheapskate.com Results You’re short on cash but the nearby bank machine charges for use. What do you do? a) I wrapped all my money in a banana leaf and buried it years ago, so it’s no problem. b) Pull my cap low across my face, sit in a stoop with an empty coffee cup and wait for the free money to roll in. Easy. c) Go looking for the nearest ATM that isn’t a rip off. Shouldn’t be too far. d) What’s a bank machine? Is it, like, your parents? Mostly As… The Survivor The hottie you’ve fancied for ages finally agrees to a date. What would you do with them? a) We’d go for a walk in the woods followed by a dinner of foraged mushrooms and road kill, cooked over a flaming oil barrel. Delicious. b) The Savoy, The Ivy and Nobu are all possibilities. All I know is I won’t be paying. c) A free gig and cheap bite to eat – as long as I’m with my date I’m sure it’ll be fun. d) A day out at the races. I can pretend to be excited about betting while checking out the hats. You are the Ray Mears of London. The type who can survive for days with a toothpick, eight grains of sugar and a compass. You have skills and bravery but you think the Gherkin is actually made from pickled cucumber and is designed to sustain city dwellers when all the food runs out. City life isn’t for you. When getting dressed in the morning, what are you most likely to put on? a) Anything camouflage. b) Whatever I can find in my housemate’s room once he or she’s left for work c) Vintage stuff from charity shops, especially clothes that I’ve altered myself. d) I’ll pull on my pre-ripped skinny jeans and trendy tankie but cut out the designer labels. Mostly Bs… The Scrounger You are an extremely smooth financial operator, with a keen eye for a bargain and a healthy bank balance. You also happen to be an immoral, unceasingly scabby bag of scum. You’ve been given five days off work. What do you do? a) Head to the forest, pitch a tent and find a wild animal to wrestle, kill and eat – just as mother earth intended. b) Either bum around on the sofa to avoid spending money or hit the streets and pretend to collect for charity. Depends on the weather. c) Take in as many free exhibitions, markets and gigs as possible. d) Jet off to Daddy’s beach house in Nice – but I’ll make sure to tell everyone I’m going to Blackpool, wherever that is. Mostly Cs… The Creative One You truly have more sense than money. You embody the cheapskate spirit – we commend you. What do you look for in an ideal partner? a) They’ve got to like it rough and ready. Me Tarzan, You Jane! Can’t be afraid of getting dirty. b) A really great personality, great looks and a sense of humour are completely unimportant. Just a pocket full of cash. c) If they can make me laugh and don’t sponge any money, that’s plenty grand for me. d) Someone who can teach me how to be cheap. Commoners are so fun and zany! I can only spare two days a week in between ballet lessons and utilising my annual membership of The Barbican though. Mostly Ds… The Fake Yeah, yeah. So you once visited a bookies and have recently learned what a kebab is. But trying to order Dom Perignon in the Dog and Bull gives you away. You’re as fraudulent as an MP’s expense form. Back to your country house. You come across a tenner in the street. What do you think? a) I don’t need a tenner – all I need is two coppers to rub together to make a fire. b) Pocket it and don’t tell your friends. Subsequently claim to have lost a tenner so that they buy you a drink at the pub. Even better, someone might find a tenner and think it’s yours. c) Spoil yourself and your mates by buying an extra round of drinks at the pub. d) Christ it’s a tenner – anything below a £50 note is crass and distasteful. 37. Reverend Billy ...and the church of stop shopping Bill Talen, aka the Reverend Billy, 59, from Minnesota, USA, is the High Priest of the Church of Life After Shopping. He and his gospel choir stage interventions at supermarkets, on a mission to stop customers before they buy. He is running as the Green Party candidate for Mayor of New York and recently brought his campaign to Britain. Why should we stop shopping? Consumerism has shut us down, sister! The level of shopping that we have got to is ridiculous. When we do this we’re receiving instructions from the advertisers to shop, shop, shop. But now we have to stop that shopping and back away from the gleaming products calling out to us from the shelf. The government won’t do it so we are calling for the social change. Say hallelujah! Hallelujah! Amen! The Holy Spirit has praised me. Why do you use the church to spread your message? The most effective activists in our culture come from backgrounds of faith. Think of Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Desmond Tutu. Preaching is singing and talking at the same time. It is American vocal tradition, like hip-hop. 38. Are you a real church leader? I don’t know the distinction, sister, I don’t know; am I real? All I know is we are killing ourselves now - amen! We are attacking life itself by the way we’re consuming things. We have start new economies fast. The government won’t do it – they’re moving too slow. We have been subject to a marketing hypnosis. We have to find a way of being surreal to get back to the real. We have to believe in the impossible in order to get back to the possible. Why are you here in the UK? Americans have a lot to learn from the UK. They’ve led the way in fair trade and environmental issues. We work with Tescopoly [who protest about supermarkets like Tesco stamping out local business]. The level of awareness is bigger in the UK, plus they get my sense of humour. Hallelujah! You carry out interventions at supermarkets. How do these work? You have to go straight to the genitals of the corporation. We don’t have any time for talking. That time has passed. You have to go up to the cash point, put your hands on the till and say a prayer, a big prayer, what I call a �power prayer’. We pray the money will flow the other way to the people. We have to make radical change. We’re out of time. It’s the shoppocalypse! For more information on the Church of Life After Shopping go to www.revbilly.com www.cheapskate.com ADVERTISEMENT That’s all folks! I’m off. The Robbers Bank of Scotland www.cheapskate.com 39. Produced by Cheapskate inc. Cheapskate squat, Goldsmiths College, MRB30, Lewisham Way, New Cross, London, SE14 6NW
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