Stuck between psychogeography, artsy zine ambitions and a darkroom to toy with, way too much Ilford was chewed up in my non-electric Zenit. Out came this take on how Square Mile vernacular is a bit like Tory voters, only really standing for itself when you look back. Should have made this a vampire joke. If you're still reading, have my essay on neophilia. Cheers!

Team Credits

Juri Itin

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