Break the cycle. (Screened from Boyd.)
'Jonatton is perhaps 5ft 9in tall. He has a sharp weasel face with vacant eyes. He has not shaved for a couple of days, or seen to short mussy hair. He clothes his pipe cleaner limbs in standard baggy livery. When we walk together through Cambridge Circus, he ambles in a loping, angular sort of way, one shoulder tugged down by the weight of an unnecessarily vast blue holdall. Does this man have any right to wear the label of sex symbol? Not if the looks Yeah? is getting in the street are anything to go by: he isn't getting any. No one seems to recognise him. He registers nul points on the phwoarometer.'
- Julie MacAvoy for The Times, Dec 2000, Excerpt from 'Generation Y?'
The picture to accompany said article I here you ask?
That's me there, almost 26 years old and not being a heart throb. In stupid trousers.
'Jonatton Yeah? is more of a brand name than the man's name these days. His sharp wit and sharper style insure that the London bad boy is never long from out of the public eye. There's the barest hint of stubble on his jaw and his artfully messy bed head hair is perfectly fixed down to the last strand. He's dressed in the style we've grown accustomed to see him in- a mix of business and casual with eye wateringly bright sneakers; the only reminder left of this high earner's warehouse raver days. When we walk together down Oxford Street, he walks with a confidence that could well belong to any one of his super model friends. Has this man earned the right to wear the label of sex symbol? Yes if the looks Yeah? is getting in the street are anything to go by: turning almost every head. Everyone seems to recognise him. It only goes to show what a difference a decade makes.'
- Julie MacAvoy for The Times, Dec 2010, Excerpt from 'Generation Y not; Jonatton Yeah? Revisited.'
That's me there, almost 36 and surreptitiously impregnating your daughters. In stupid trousers.
Only thing is the articles seem to have gotten all mixed up- at almost 26 I was a quietly confident, intellectually stimulating ruthless little business man, discovering for the first time just how quickly a cheeky smile and a few clever comments could get you into a top club or a girls knickers. 2000 was the year Sugarape took off bigstyle- thus the reason that The Times had taken a slither of interest in me, even if it was a badly construed attempt to get under my skin and remind me of my place in the Editorial world. It was the year I bought my first flat in London and it was in 2001 that I would meet Eliza. I laughed for hours when I read what MacAvoy had said about my scruffy appearance as I sniffed up powdered gold with a £20 pound note- I'd been on a comedown and I'd worn what I wanted- I honestly couldn't have given less of a fuck what she or anyone else thought of me- and it was that lackadaisical attitude that would guarantee my rise to infamy.
Now ten years later and I'm so done with this 'bad boy' shite, but cheers for the validation anyway, MacAvoy- Tell me, did I make you wet your knickers before or after I started punching the paparazzi for throw away comments? Or was it the Celebgate scandal? Maybe when I was busted with that 20 grams of C that belonged to Eliza that I got off by the skin of my teeth? The list of my 'Acheivements' is long; I'm one of Loaded's entertainers of the decade- 'Drugs, Money, Birds; if he was any more sucsessful we'd have him burned at the stake'- if the NME name dropped me any more than it already does I think I'd start getting sponsored by Shockwaves myself; the King of cool, one of the most celebrated bastards London has ever spat out- remember, you can't put a foot wrong when everybody's following your lead.
But I don't care for any of that, I don't give a flying fuck if I'm someone to celebrate or commiserate or simply someone to hate- There's only one thing I want, there's only one thing I'm after, and it's about time I actually went for it than stand at the sidelines biting my nails and hoping against hope that when it comes down to it I'll be picked last rather than not picked at all- I've got a set of lungs on me and when I start screaming you'll damn well listen to me- keeping your mouth shut is so 2010, I'm too old now to wait for everything to come to me.
I've always worn sneakers, because I like to be able run away. But this year I think I'm going to try being the one to give chase.
Wish me luck.
- Julie MacAvoy for The Times, Dec 2000, Excerpt from 'Generation Y?'
The picture to accompany said article I here you ask?
That's me there, almost 26 years old and not being a heart throb. In stupid trousers.
'Jonatton Yeah? is more of a brand name than the man's name these days. His sharp wit and sharper style insure that the London bad boy is never long from out of the public eye. There's the barest hint of stubble on his jaw and his artfully messy bed head hair is perfectly fixed down to the last strand. He's dressed in the style we've grown accustomed to see him in- a mix of business and casual with eye wateringly bright sneakers; the only reminder left of this high earner's warehouse raver days. When we walk together down Oxford Street, he walks with a confidence that could well belong to any one of his super model friends. Has this man earned the right to wear the label of sex symbol? Yes if the looks Yeah? is getting in the street are anything to go by: turning almost every head. Everyone seems to recognise him. It only goes to show what a difference a decade makes.'
- Julie MacAvoy for The Times, Dec 2010, Excerpt from 'Generation Y not; Jonatton Yeah? Revisited.'
That's me there, almost 36 and surreptitiously impregnating your daughters. In stupid trousers.
Only thing is the articles seem to have gotten all mixed up- at almost 26 I was a quietly confident, intellectually stimulating ruthless little business man, discovering for the first time just how quickly a cheeky smile and a few clever comments could get you into a top club or a girls knickers. 2000 was the year Sugarape took off bigstyle- thus the reason that The Times had taken a slither of interest in me, even if it was a badly construed attempt to get under my skin and remind me of my place in the Editorial world. It was the year I bought my first flat in London and it was in 2001 that I would meet Eliza. I laughed for hours when I read what MacAvoy had said about my scruffy appearance as I sniffed up powdered gold with a £20 pound note- I'd been on a comedown and I'd worn what I wanted- I honestly couldn't have given less of a fuck what she or anyone else thought of me- and it was that lackadaisical attitude that would guarantee my rise to infamy.
Now ten years later and I'm so done with this 'bad boy' shite, but cheers for the validation anyway, MacAvoy- Tell me, did I make you wet your knickers before or after I started punching the paparazzi for throw away comments? Or was it the Celebgate scandal? Maybe when I was busted with that 20 grams of C that belonged to Eliza that I got off by the skin of my teeth? The list of my 'Acheivements' is long; I'm one of Loaded's entertainers of the decade- 'Drugs, Money, Birds; if he was any more sucsessful we'd have him burned at the stake'- if the NME name dropped me any more than it already does I think I'd start getting sponsored by Shockwaves myself; the King of cool, one of the most celebrated bastards London has ever spat out- remember, you can't put a foot wrong when everybody's following your lead.
But I don't care for any of that, I don't give a flying fuck if I'm someone to celebrate or commiserate or simply someone to hate- There's only one thing I want, there's only one thing I'm after, and it's about time I actually went for it than stand at the sidelines biting my nails and hoping against hope that when it comes down to it I'll be picked last rather than not picked at all- I've got a set of lungs on me and when I start screaming you'll damn well listen to me- keeping your mouth shut is so 2010, I'm too old now to wait for everything to come to me.
I've always worn sneakers, because I like to be able run away. But this year I think I'm going to try being the one to give chase.
Wish me luck.