Home Sweet Home #2

London’s home but is no longer. We knew we weren’t the only ones who felt our home town was losing touch with itself. We began to talk to a wide range of people: friends, family, supporters, internet pen-friends. We found many had the same mixed feelings as us, not just in London but everywhere. Here are some of those contributions.

Robert Oliver- Researcher

Sitting 8.2miles from Charing Cross (the centre of London according to black cab drivers), Kingsbury is one of London’s middlebrow areas. Not the roughest place to live, nor the poshest

The next Prime Minister won’t have attended its schools, nor will the next Ken Loach film be set on its streets

Despite puzzled looks from those who boast of nosebleeds when venturing out of Zone 2, the type of people who move to Balham and define their “Londoner” status through Buzzfeed criteria, Kingsbury’s only a short ride from Central London. You’re not going to have a nosebleed, a stoke nor be confined to wheelchair for the rest of your life by jumping on the Jubilee line here

But it’s always had its fair share of characters, including many famous ones who left a long time ago; Charlie Watts, though mistakenly introduced on stage as The Wembley Whammer by Mick Jagger. A pre-Forest Stuart Pearce played for local pub side Dynamo Kingsbury Kiev, avoiding detection using the name Yak Jensen. George Michael, pupil at Kingsbury High, was often referenced whenever a local public toilet shut. The original Sugarbabes line-up started here before being infiltrated and taken over

Laurie Vincent- Guitarist, Slaves

Maidstone. It has two subways, three McDonald’s, two cafe nero’s two costa coffees, a primark and all the other expected fast food chains. It’s depressing and bleak. In the shadow of the big city nothing much good happens there. They film Jools holland in the Maidstone studios now and Maidstone united are in the conference division after a couple of good seasons. I still love it though. It’s where I’m from.

Harry Singh-Judd- Student

I grew up in Twickenham. The house prices rocketed (of course) and the people got more in-your-face middle class, suddenly the pebbledash ex council houses on my road became inhabited by wealthy families looking for good (private) schools and a quick commute, the sort of people who look down on you because you didn’t attend the latest royalist street party. But the high street doesn’t entirely reflect this change. Which is refreshing I guess.

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