#IndieAmnesty: Confessions of a 2005 Indie Kid

An awesome thing happened on Twitter last week; bands, ex-indie kids and John Prescott (?!) lined up to confess their embarrassing deeds done in the heat of indie fandom, using the hashtag #indieamnesty.

Allow me to take you on a journey through space and time...


I still have no idea what was going on here.

The year is 2005. Franz Ferdinand and The Futureheads released their debut albums the previous year and a British indie revolution was in the offing (in fairness, The Libertines had already released two albums and broken up, but they were ahead of the curve).

Bloc Party released Silent Alarm and I was hooked. Aside from the fact that I wasn't very cool, I went into full-on indie kid mode. A gig a week became the norm and I would bore anyone and everyone senseless with opinions I'd rehashed from that week's NME. Cardiff was a great place to be; it had Barfly for gigs, Welsh Club for indie pretentiousness, Fun Factory for £1.50 ciders and Metros for 99p doubles and dry humping sweaty boys on the dancefloor. Good times.

Anywho, I guess it's time for the #indieamnesty confessions to begin.

Kir started us off with:
I still can't decide if Eddie Argos' tache was ironically bad or just bad. Same re: Art Brut. One for the 2005 indie art pop aficionados there.

I then remembered this:
It's true. No regrets.  
In fairness to Kirsty, that should have read 'lipstysalter and I'. On a similar theme, we used to buy NME every single week.

And then some more that didn't make it to Twitter:

I used to buy my favourite/the cheapest songs as 7" singles. I didn't have a record player, so used them as posters instead.


I actually used to sing along to indie songs like this because they just meant so much. Actually, I think I still do that. Seems like Fee is struggling not to laugh at me and I do not blame her!

I once nearly had sex with Stephen Fretwell's bass player because I thought it might help us get into Athlete's aftershow party. Turns out Mr Bass Player was not important enough to also get entry for my two friends, so.... overaries before broveries and bye bye Mr Bass (also he wasn't that fit).


I busted a series of brilliant/humiliating/competitive dance moves under the influence of cheap vodka. On the plus side I perfected my 'Are you suuuuuurrrrrrrrrre?' fingerpoint/full Common People lip sync routine.

I had a massive crush on Ross from The Futureheads. I still would.


I loved MySpace (the pirate was my profile pic) and genuinely worried about who to put in my Top 8. Probably not as much as my brilliantly, hilariously emo housemates did though. 

And, worst of all, my one actual regret in life:

And, to finish off, just because...


I'M ON FIRE!

So, please, tell me your fangirl/fanboy confessions! Surely I wasn't the only one?!

An Unexpected Start to Our Honeymoon: March's Photo an Hour

March's Photo an Hour day fell on the day after our wedding (and Easter Sunday). I figured the day would be pretty predictable (breakfast, drive, hotel, relaaaaaax) but I was wrong...

The morning started off with me desperately trying to make myself look decent; I'd obviously put in a lot of effort the day before and didn't particularly want to meet everyone the next morning looking gross. We had breakfast with our friends and family, laughed at the previous night's photobooth pictures, then packed up our stuff ready to go on honeymoon. Then things started to go awry.

Having packed up our stuff, Pete suddenly remembered that he hadn't seen the car keys since Friday evening...


1pm: Wedding aftermath. I went back to the pub where we'd held our reception the night before, to collect leftover wedding cake and forgotten shoes. No car keys.

2pm: I went back to the Holiday Inn, where I found Pete in reception, still surrounded by wedding stuff, and still without car keys. The AA were unable to help, given that we were in Somerset, on Easter Sunday, with their cheapest lever of breakdown cover. D'oh.



3pm: Still no car keys, but the Holiday Inn lady took pity on us and gave us free coffee. Emergency locksmiths were either unavailable or unable to help. The reality of the situation began to dawn on us: one of us was going to have to go back to London on the train, alone, to collect our spare car keys. I loaded up a bag with leftover cake and got in a taxi to the station...



4pm: On the train, I received a phone call from Pete. Good news: he'd remembered where he'd left the keys!!!!! Bad news: I was 10 minutes into two hour the train journey, next stop Reading.



5pm: Hi, Reading! Bye, Reading!



6pm: Train selfie. I think cabin fever had set in by this point...



7pm: WE MADE IT! Finally, we made it to our lovely hotel, Woodbury Park near Exeter... A mere six hours after we'd originally planned to arrive. When we arrived we got told that, due to an online deal, we would be charged less than we'd anticipated and receive a free dinner each night. Winnner, winner, chicken fish dinner,



8pm: After a quick jacuzzi visit, we got ready for dinner. I LOVE PATTERNS.



9pm: Dinner was amazing. This was a blue cheese risotto and it was goooooooood.



10pm: Champagne (thanks, Pete!) and wedding cards in bed. An awesome end to a slightly bizarre day!

As usual, thanks Louisa and Jane for organising us - if it wasn't for Photo an Hour my blog would be pretty empty this year!