Heleana's Qype profile

Have you ever felt the compulsion to let complete strangers stick needles into you? Maybe that answer depends on the kind of nightclubs you go to. In this case however, I am referring to accupuncture. For the unitiaited, my sister can only be described as an accupuncture fiend and would doubtlessly recommend it to anyone, unless, say, they were scared of needles.

It just so happened that while we were window shopping for nothing in particular in Covent Garden we were soon to learn that Neal's Yard Remedies had a very well hidden therapies centre just opposite its conventional store. It's just signalled by one very narrow door between two cafes so it's astonishingly easy to miss, but once you enter, a world of wonder awaits!

Got ailments? This place has every treatment you could ever want.. and not want. From shiatsu massage to psychic healing, life coaching to cupping. Even if you don't have any, you might as well indulge that inner hypochondriac and get some indulgent treatment in a lovely crisp white room, by a practitioner with an unusually soft voice 'just in case' you feel tense at some point later in the week and want to mitigate that risk now. My sister insisted 'we're here to get accupuncture and cupping'. I went along with it, as I usually opt for Shiatsu (I'm getting quite predictable in that respect) so off I went to get pricked by a random person.

It felt very tickly, and the pins felt like tingles... the cupping was a hilarious experience for me personally. It feels like a bunch of unusually big leeches have snaked onto your back and stared sucking really hard. Obviously it is no way near as disturbing as that. Think 'zen like'. Yes, I know that 'zen' and 'leeches' go together in a slightly oxymoron-like kinda way.

Afterwards I felt floaty and spaced out... my persistent neck stiffness disappeared for a bit too. The experience costed £60. Worth a shot, if you like needles and leeches.

I know what you're thinking. Anything that could possibly so transparently aimed at improving your love life must be for desperadoes or wallflowers. All I shall say is prepare to be surprised. It's more of a gig for straights (I went along for the curiosity factor, wondering whether I'd be goaded into grabbing people's butts for a laugh, but alas no) and it was a very fun, light hearted and playful experience. On that Thursday night, I was encouraged to see hunting grounds in entirely new places... chatting randoms up on the street using the tried and tested ruse of asking for directions to places nearby so yoour target gets to feel that they are being helpful, making conversations about buying choices ina supermarket... I thought the 'supermarket sweep' was hilarious - walking around, giving knowing glances to my fellow flirt-walkers, as I siezed upon some poor waif to ask her about flowers. There was more of us in the shop an one point than there were genuine customers. The shopkeeper must have been wondering what we were up to! There were even successes (in terms of numbers swapped) on the night. You can't go wrong.

This is a local pub. For local people. I immediately got a sense of that when I walked in with a bunch of flamboyantly dressed lady friends and the entire venue’s contents - consisting of the older geezers that prop up the bar, and sullen looking couples – looked round at us as if we were from outer space. It was my friend’s fault really. Silver catsuits are hardly a modest choice of clothing for a lady.

We were in the process of disovering real ales, served in real bars; as people who were fed up of being ripped off in hipster and gastro pubs. “Give me some authenticity!” we thought. It was this sentiment that led us here. There was a karaoke night happening when we went; it was really entertaining (oftentimes hilarious) listening to some of the old crooners; especially when they veered out of tune. They do the usual fare during the week; pub quizzes, fags a jukebox, Indian pale ale. Decent prices though! £1.60 for a half cider. Thank you very much.

The Dolphin. What a dive! That very fact hasn’t stopped the droves of people that cram themselves in there from Thursday through to Sunday (I’d suspect that some of them don’t go home during that time). Someone in Hackney pronounced it trendy. Therefore everyone goes now.
Even though it’s much more basic, pared down, much less decorated than the George and Dragon in Hackney Road it’s kinda the same deal; eclectic motown, indie and 50s tracks blaring, you have to get there very early to get a seat (even if you’re looking for one outside) and prepare to fall over bags a lot. You can dance though; which was always a challenge at the George. Mainly because this place Is much, much bigger.

It runs at clubbing times; closing at 3 when I last checked. Lots of people use it as a ‘last stop before home’ when they really don’t want the night to end; this is especially the case on Sundays. There’s apparently a karaoke night here; I’ve not seen it yet!

I’m on the way to an art project in a desert; part of this process involves shopping for fabrics so you can arrive with an amazing costume that will wow all those who clap eyes upon you. This desire led me to Mermaid Fabrics; known more as a place you would go to dress windows rather than yourself; but the idea was to get my mitts of some regal looking paisleys and some white curtain material. Both of which they had in abundance.

One of the things I’ll be doing is helping decorate a souk bar; and as such multiple pillows, tie backs for curtains, dark burnt reds and elaborate patterning of all kinds was on my shopping list. I loved their attentiveness. Their interest in my ridiculous stories regarding how I was going to use their wares. Very handy if you’re up for reupholstering furniture, or buying bedding that not everyone else would have.

I scored some pillows for £3.50. Result!

The Hackney branch of Primani! You know you love it. Home of the £7 dress (that looks very nice thank you, but will probably disintegrate in a week) the £1 belt and the occasional shoplifter. What’s not to like? Stuck in the centre of a perennially littered street, it’s a bit of a nightmare to navigate on a weekend; especially as it appears to be the home of many a family outing. Some people go in with double buggies… what are they smoking?

Trip over five year olds crawling the floor as you look for the latest dirt cheap designer rip off, and see how closely it resembles the real thing. Spend so long in a queue of people re-stocking their wardrobes for the month that you might as well decide to read to tuck into the latest tome Slavoj Zizeck ; you’ll have read it twice over by time you get to the front.

Be aware of the fact that this is a ‘basics’ shop at best; get pants, socks and belts here, but go out to the one on Oxford street if you want the real good stuff. Ideally first thing in the morning.

I bet you never knew that they’re currently doing up the old Burberry factory building. I discovered it on a new cycle route the other day, trying to avoid a back-to-back lorry and bus pileup. If you live in Hackney snd you’ve never been to this place I’d advise you to have a peek at least – even if you are worried about making an investment into a clothing brand whose image has been somewhat tarnished by the likes of Daniella Westbrook and Brian Harvey of East 17.

Surprisingly chav free - its main customer base appears to be Japanese students; all trying to score a good bargain on pieces on season back; it’s worth remembering that fashion’s fickle ways will mean that you can stash it and it’ll be back ‘in’ in a few weeks’ time. They have all the key recurring looks covered: nautical? Check. Preppy? Check.

It’s very much an assortment; reminiscent of rifling through TK Maxx, looking for that one classic piece that’s ‘got to be in there, somewhere’. They hold stuff for you also, if you’re nice and are a regular. The kinds of savings you’ll enjoy are so great, they’d make Anna Wintour weep. A last season coat for £80? I’d only get a better rate if I nicked it.

I could have easily reviewed the one in Dalston, but this one has a special place in my heart. It’s the kind of place that it’s only possible to have a love-hate relationship with. Love the bargain basement hair nets and gloves. Hate the fact that it’s in mugger-infested Finsbury Park. Love the fact that you can get wonderfully niche afro Caribbean products, like cream that gets rid of shaving bumps, or find a wig in literally any pantone number that exists on God’s green earth. Hate the brusque, unfriendly service and the overwhelming sense that the only reason why the staff are approaching you is not to help but to check you’re not stealing something, or mugging someone. For goodness sakes people. I have a push bike outside! Not exactly a getaway vehicle is it!

To their credit they were the first place to stock decent hair care products from the US; rather than those embarrassing-looking bright yellow tins of junk, or hair creams that looked like green Vaseline. They need to chill out though, or move to somewhere less crime ridden. Try Kensington.

Once upon a time in January 2004; I was waiting in the rain under a bridge at the bottom of Kingsland road. The bus was taking aeons. And I wasn’t getting any warmer. Or any less irritable. Any attempt at reading the weekend paper would have been scuppered by gusts of umbrella trashing wind and torrential rain, so I looked through the window of a shop, just to alleviate the boredom.

Next thing I knew I saw a man looking back at me, who opened the door and invited me in. He gave me a glass of wine and we talked about how well hidden his hair salon was. That day was the beginning of a 5 year love affair with the best hair salon in the galaxy, Identity UK.

My only palpable experience of bullying was that I experienced at the hands of hairdressers; those who run roughshod over your wishes and try and give you some atrocious Gloria Gaynor-looking granny cut, achieved by overuse of curling tongs and grease. Dentists always paled in comparison as far as I was concerned.

But Tony Hegarty was different. He listened. He asked me things like where I went out, whether I wanted a look that was adaptable to both the clubs and the office, showed me ways of hiding bits of head shaving from conservative bosses. When I first walked out with a Mohican after a modelling shoot, which he then crafted into something all restrained and office like, I knew I loved this man. I didn’t care if he was gay.

They’re now in Shoreditch high street; and they’re still very good at giving fashion forward, adaptable haircuts to both people with straight and Afro-Caribbean hair. Needless to say I am still a regular customer. I’ll insist that he opens a shop in San Francisco when I relocate.

I was once enlisted with the task of entertaining some children. Now as I’m not the most child centric and maternal of people, I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with them. They were shouty. Full of energy. Liked throwing and climbing on things. A bit like me, really. So I decided that we would do something that would excite and then tire them in equal measure, so they didn’t spend time asking me questions on the long bus ride home , following up each of my responses with the word “Why?” until I ran out of answers and my head exploded or something.

So Go-Karting was the choice. Ridiculously sanitised yet giving the appearance of danger; therefore keeping the parents’ minds at rest while ensuring the little ones weren’t bored to tears. And the Oasis Karting Project is a centre with a difference; in that they use karting as a vehicle to teach young people life skills. No, I didn’t think it was possible either, not at those speeds.

But you can apparently. It’s all about showing young people how to “operate within clear boundaries, take measured risks, develop self control, responsibility and patience”. I assumed this venture had been set up by a social entrepreneur; the mission statement was telling.

They do a whole range of other activities as well; from outdoor climbing, long walks; and games. They’re well looked after here and they have summer camps that take them out to explore the great outdoors. They’re a charity too, so you can donate if you really like what they do and their teams of volunteers enables them to keep the costs low.