Benefit Street, Brighton.

           Mrs. Simpson's Regency Journal.                                     September 20, 1831.                                               The Vile Slum in Brighton   After I had writ in my journal the last time, it did strike me, of a sudden, that whosoever doth read these pages after me, might not be abiding in Brighton and may not know of our Dark Heart. For such it be: a-pulsing away right in the middle of our town and not even suspicioned  by most gentlefolk. Or not considered to be a suitable subject of conversation by those who do know of it. ‘Tis the area known as Pimlico. Though it was already a blot and a shame upon this town by the time we moved here from Tunbridge Wells, folk say it came quickly about, once people had to leave tied cottages; and could no longer rely on being able to eat all year round. Because the same folk as had tended the land for generations,  were being turned away for cheaper, convict labourers.  Well of course they drifted in to the town wh

                      The Brighton & Hove Circular Economy                   Action Plan 2020 - 2035 https://www.brighton-hove.gov.uk/business-and-trade/brighton-hove-circular-economy-action-plan-2020-2035#tab--promoting-circular-economy-activity-across-the-city This jargon-filled mission statement regarding recycling is published by Council. Full of momentary fashionable misuse of perfectly simple but unexplained concepts such as 'stakeholders' and 'circular economy', it is not aimed at local residents, small business and shop owners, those for whom English is a second language, or, importantly, the 'average' person . It is a mangled word-fest presumably aimed at other Councils, as was so much of Brighton & Hove Council's public communication under the previous administration. So as is usual with many of Councils "public" documents, two thirds of the population are confused - and bored stiff - by them; others are intimidated, and still oth

  The first time I ever acted in an historical play we were coached in the ways of walking as women of yesteryear did. Which didn’t seem at all strange to me at the time: at convent boarding schools we had been taught to walk the nunly walk: which turned out to be exactly the same method. But sanctified. I didn’t really understand why women used to walk differently then, and neither did my mother; who told me that her mother had also instructed her that a woman’s footprints should always be in a straight line: — one foot directly in front the other, as we’d been taught on both stage and in convents.  Yet it was only about 6 months ago that I suddenly had a lightbulb moment: women walked in that way because they menstruated! This thought didn’t arrive out of the blue; I had, by then, been researching the history of menstruation for months. With the help of the Brighton Museum I’d been able to start my research back in the Palaeolithic. Since then, I had become aware that apart from one

  It was her name that first drew me to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.  In it the Christian, the Old English and the French  mixed together to encapsulate her families passage down through the years. And also just because I like the sounds it makes. As is the way with a name or a concept one has recently encountered, the name kept cropping up in different contexts ranging from the poetic to the scientific, to the medical; and as a feminist. She was being revealed as one of those brave, rebellious Early Modern women whom I was winkling out from under the dusty pall of almost unexplored dismissal.  Mary was born c1689 in the reign of William and Mary of Orange, so no doubt she was one of hundreds of baby girls all over England who were given that same name. From a young age she was resentful of  the expensive education to which her brothers had access but which was forbidden her because of her sex. However, she had complete access to her father's remarkable library and it was there she s