Anyway, the registered letter of horrid-awakening-and-cold-feet turned out to be my Manhattans Reunion tickets: the pieces of card which will whisk Andrew and me ten years back in time. I am still intrigued but nervous about this little event but on the whole looking forward to it.
For anyone that cares (and I know a number of people have come this blog recently through searching “manhattans reunion” or the like, so they might even if no one else does), that photo-booth picture up there is what I looked like when I frequented the ‘hattans all those years ago (mid-1995 to end-of-1997). Looking at it from this angle, I’m the one of the left; my right hand man, of course, being Andrew. Actually, that isn’t really what we looked like at Manhattans: that’s what we looked like at about 3am on a Monday morning at the Hartshead Moor services on the way back from V97 in Leeds after 48+ hours without sleep. We still went to Manhattans that night.
Admittedly this picture was taken a bit later than my main Manhattans days – Christmas 1997 I do believe – mostly because I lost my camera (specifically, my dad‘s camera) before the magical summer of 1997 began so I don’t have any photos from the period, just incredibly detailed diaries.
I wore a lot of cropped tops back then and now that I sport a wobblier belly, I’m quite happy that I made the most of my svelte physique when I had the chance.
Also, I LOVED that coat – long, black leather with a black “fur” collar. I wore leather gloves with it in the winter and it made me feel like I was from the KGB, not KGV. Which was awesome.
Neary, but I don’t have a photo of him), amongst other people.
In the four years I knew Spyder, I didn’t once get a good photo of him – or one of Wayne not giving the finger.
(These photos were taken at Reading 1998: I had gone in 1997 with Spyder, Wayne & Stacey and when I went the following year with Dave M, I returned to the same spot where we had camped in 1997 – and coincidentally found Spyder & Wayne there again.)