Dear Rock Angel
New adult contemporary romance (not spicy) set in London and inspired by my own wild rock era.
Available in ebook and paperback
New Paragraph
The other day, I was in my hometown of Huddersfield, West Yorkshire and I headed straight to one of my old haunts. The Bryam Arcade. It’s the town’s oldest shopping centre with an array of creative and independent shops. The arcade is a magnificent Victorian building finally completed in 1881. Since then, it has also become known as the Makers’ Arcade due to its wondrous stores and owners generating and stocking arts, crafts, comics, tattoos, piercings, mystical gifts, theatre, artisan food and drink, jewellery and beauty treatments among others. It’s a creatives’ paradise. I dare to wager a bet that it houses a few ghosts too.
Spread over three floors, you can find original ironwork on staircases and balconies, period tiles, wooden flooring and an impressive glass ceiling as the hat for the beautiful building. Visiting the arcade transported me back to the 90s, my favourite decade of all time. Back in the day, the Byram Arcade was busier with more stores (although it has been undergoing restoration recently). I used to go there weekly and browse places such as the vinyl store, which also sold stickers, mystical stores, and gothic and alternative clothing shops. Purple Haze was a go-to for clothing and accessories. Most of the time I couldn’t afford to buy things… it was always a toss between cigarettes or an item from Purple Haze. Instead, I would make mental notes and lists and draw inspiration from styles and the people running the shops. The Byram Arcade, and its rustic lift and staircases, reminded me of Afflecks in Manchester.
Afflecks, in case you haven’t heard of it, is the ultimate alternative shopping experience across four floors in a huge vintage building in the centre of Manchester. You can keep all your modern and minimalistic nonsense; this is where it’s at. The entrance of this emporium is like stepping through a portal into a different world far away from the reality outside of it. In the 90s it was called Affleck’s Palace (I loved this name) and I can only say thank the Goddess for it and the Byram Arcade. These places understood me and served my attitude, youth and 20s well. I will write witchy wanderings post on the exciting Afflecks, as it rightly deserves, soon. In the meantime, if you haven’t visited Afflecks – what are you waiting for?!
The 90s were perhaps chaotic but peaceful, exciting and ground-breaking. The Berlin Wall would fall and making mixed tapes and burning CDs to create soundtracks of your life was a religion. The decade gave rise to alternative and grunge music, graffiti and abstract art exploded, self expression and entertainment were encouraged, not strangulated like today. I loved the rock scene, the music, the films, the freedom, the creativity and most of all, I loved me and my modus operandi. I had quirky ways, a wild streak, a balls-y vision for my life. I wore fashion far from the mainstream, and although I had troubles, and self-doubt could cripple me, I didn’t let them win. I used it to create myself instead. This is the stardust trailblazers are made of. To live the 90s decade was an experience, not just a passage of time and I am grateful to have been a part of that emerging zeitgeist.
Recently, I have been conversing with my complicated self. How my 90s modus operandi, is, in many ways, my true nature, yet had appeared to have left the building. Sometimes we need to revive or restore an original aspect of ourselves for life to work right. One we may have forgotten or overlooked, whether that is a style, a passion, a person, or an attitude. I can guarantee it will still be within you if you dig a little, and you feel the power of the reconnect when you do.
Consider this… if others are overlooking you or opportunities are bypassing you, are you sure it’s not you overlooking your original self? Life is a mirror after all, and we need to be true to our dreams for our dreams to come true.
Annaliese
P.S. Yes, I still have the northern accent (which some days I love but most days I don’t) and that gritty (mouthy?!) fight only northern girls have will never leave me either. You can take a girl out of the north but…
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