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BRIGHTON FRINGE REVIEW: Agent of Influence

In this Dick Barton style cheap spy thriller monologue Rebecca Dunn as Times newspaper fashion and gossip columnist Lady Pamela, conjures up a world of high society, smart clothes, Nazis and the abdication of Edward VIII.

It’s a very tongue in cheek narrative, unconsciously snobbish and at first innocent of the rise of Nazism, Lady Pamela becomes a feisty, gutsy heroine of the Second World War, even parachuting behind enemy lines on a mission of national importance.

It’s a wonderful performance as she gets to know but be friends with “that woman” – the King’s mistress Wallis Simpson. Referred to throughout as “the charwoman”, Lady Pamela finds out the details of her affair with “the silly King”.

From the opening scene when she declares “How can people get so worked up at what’s going on in other people’s countries?” she progresses to a patriotic self-awareness which is humane, well-observed and touchingly humorous.

Everyone is defined by the clothes they wear in Lady P’s world and of Wallis she says: “They say she’s a clothes horse but I’d say more horse than clothes.”

One night of passion with her handsome MI5 handler Charlie leads to the amazing revelation: “I can never have children but I try not to think about it.”

When she hears a deadly world-shattering secret from Wallis about the ex-King’s intentions, she is shocked to discover that not only does the British Government already know, but that they plan to cover it up.

And so, her amazing exploits over, she goes off in an air-raid to take shelter.

Playwright Sarah Sigal has created a truly remarkable character who could well have further theatrical outings in other tales .

And in Rebecca Dunn we get a talented creator of many characters who should certainly have a terrific future.

The play, staged by Fluff Productions, runs at the Warren Theatrebox till May 29.

FEATURE: A sight for sore eyes

Is our use of poppers impacting our ability to see the wood for the trees? By Craig Hanlon-Smith

My own introduction to poppers back in 1993 was of a completely non-sexual nature. I arrived at a late night (straight) party in the back streets of deepest south London, to find a packed living room containing a deep shag-pile rug, behind which a gas fire was blazing. Periodically, the hosts would pour amyl nitrate or whatever the blazes was in the inch high bottle, onto the carpet. Wholly stupid fire risk aside, we all buzzed happily along for hours.

A couple of years later; the tube trip back into Soho from London’s Gay Pride event at Victoria Park, and cut to a carriage rammed with gay-men singing ABBA songs at the tops of our voices, passing round a handful of small brown bottles to dozens of homos we had never set eyes on before and would possibly never see again. “Does your mother know that you’re ‘out’?” we screamed in between the sniffs and bouts of hysterical raucous laughter. We barely noticed the handful of Japanese and American tourists who looked on aghast, clutching their children close to their bosoms in the firm belief that they had all died and gone to hell.

Fun times then, and yet, in the remembering I’m cringing somewhat and mightily thrilled that both smart phones and social media were still some 20 years away. I was taking poppers from strangers on the dance floor for years before I graduated onto their frequent use as a sexual relaxant, in the assumption that they were completely harmless and after all, they’re fun right?

For years, urban myths surrounded poppers use, particularly in relation to how many brain cells they were killing compared to alcohol, but in recent months a wholly more sinister health problem connected to the use of poppers is emerging. “I didn’t make the connection at first,” David, local and regular on the scene, tells me. “I just woke up one day and couldn’t see clearly. It was like there were patches of water on my eye, or as if I’d just stared into sunlight – you know that distortion you get immediately after, only it didn’t go away.”

David presented immediately at the accident emergency department at the Royal Sussex County Hospital, but doctors were baffled. Over several weeks his eyes appeared to get better until six months later it happened again, only much more severely. “This time I went to the optician who referred me immediately to the specialist although I had begun to make connections between the problem and poppers use myself by then.” 

David’s own connection of his vision difficulties and poppers was confirmed by the specialist who made it clear this was not the first case he had seen.

Robert Purbrick
Robert Purbrick

I spoke to Robert Purbrick, Consultant Ophthalmologist at the Royal Sussex County Hospital, and asked if the issue concerned actually getting poppers into the eye (we’ve all been there right?). “No! This issue is not a direct effect of the poppers, so closing your eyes when sniffing the bottle won’t help either. It’s chemical, so I would expect these changes [to vision] if the poppers were injected for example.” 

Poppers, which are used as a relaxant, specifically, although not exclusively, by gay men for use in anal sex, operate by expanding blood vessels, which in turn lessen involuntary muscle movement or spasms. They also bring about a temporary high in the form of light-headedness and giddiness, which is why they’re sometimes used in a non-sexual context, such as club dance floors.

In 2006, a common ingredient, isobutyl nitrite, was classified as a cancer-causing agent and banned in the UK and France. It remains in use in much of mainland Europe and the chemical composition of poppers in many countries remains unchanged, but not here. The replacement chemical, isopropyl nitrite, is what is now thought to damage the fovea, the part of the retina responsible for central vision. The issue is known as ‘Poppers Maculopathy’.

I asked Robert Purbrick if the problem is widespread in the Brighton & Hove area. “I have nine cases on my personal database. We’re planning a study to try to assess the prevalence of Poppers Maculopathy in the local population, examining clinical signs, which could be present in the absence of symptoms. Poppers use is very high in the UK amongst the population of men who have sex with men so we’d expect to pick up quite a lot.” 

A little light research indicates this issue has been knocking around for a few years with initial reports as far back as 2010 and the first recorded UK case in Sidcup in 2012.

Martin McKibbin
Martin McKibbin

Martin McKibbin, Consultant Ophthalmologist in Leeds, has reported that within the past 12 months, a small group of patients in Leeds, Manchester and North Wales who have used poppers have experienced fluctuating vision and that whilst in some patients vision has recovered to normal when they stop using poppers, in others it has not. McKibbin is clear: “Visual problems have been observed with both one-off and chronic use. Some patients have experienced damaged vision after just one dose.”

A recent report in The British Journal Of Ophthalmology suggests that poppers use may cause serious and permanent eye damage. Lead researcher, Dr Rebecca Rewbury, stated; “The mounting body of evidence [suggests] that poppers can have serious effects on central vision. Users and health care professionals may be unaware of the risk.” 

This study followed 12 men who presented with blurriness or blind spots in their vision within hours or days of poppers use. Researchers examining the chemical makeup of the brands that the men used found they all contained the post-2006 ingredient isopropyl nitrite.

In 2015, poppers were included on a list of so-called legal highs debated in Parliament prior to the introduction of a wider ban, which included synthetic cannabis and nitrous oxide as part of the Psychoactive Substances Bill. Conservative MP, Crispin Blunt, outed himself as a poppers user in the debate with much media coverage and poppers were eventually left off the list.

I asked Robert Purbrick if with hindsight he thought that leaving poppers off the ban was wise, and whilst he wouldn’t be drawn on the question directly, he told me: “There is plenty of evidence of harm from poppers in the form of poppers maculopathy.” Some of which was available prior to the debate in 2015. “I think an erroneous label of safety could be applied to poppers through their omission from this list.”

I ask him, considering the wide use of poppers amongst the gay community, what advice he has for anyone using poppers either during sex or other recreational activities. His message is clear: “It’s not advisable. And certainly in the context of any visual symptoms then they should stop use immediately and either visit an optician or attend Eye Casualty at Sussex Eye Hospital. A macular OCT scan (optical coherence tomography) is necessary for diagnosis.”

And whilst our local friend David’s vision is much improved, he remains concerned. As our conversation ends he says to me: “This issue is totally under the radar and nobody is talking about it.”

Some names have been changed at the request of those interviewed. @craigscontinuum

Who’s the boss behind the bar @Velvet Jacks?

Morgan Fabulous chats to Jackie Perry, the co-owner and manager of Velvet Jacks on the border of Brighton and Hove about what makes it the perfect place to relax and have a cocktail.

Velvet Jacks is a small and quirky independent bar with both friendly staff and customers, it’s the kind of place you can walk in to on our own and instantly feel at home and relaxed. It celebrates it’s second year birthday on May 23, which is also the date of Jackie’s wife, Eve’s birthday.

Jackie grew up in the east end of London, in the 50’s, in the kind of place where your Aunt and Uncle lived next door. The whole neighbourhood was like one big extended family and you could leave your doors and windows open without a second thought.

She worked as a prison officer for 14 years, with women, young offenders and people serving a life sentence. But, Jackie wanted to see what else the world had to offer and decided she would go traveling.

She travelled around Australia on two separate occasions for 6 months at a time, lived in Key Largo, which is an island in the upper Florida Keys archipelago for three and a half years and also backpacked around South East Asia for a few years in the 90’s.

Before Velvet Jacks, the place had been a family run restaurant for the last 30 years. Her wife, Eve, owned the tattoo shop next door to the restaurant and had always wanted to turn it into a bar if the opportunity arose. When she heard it was being sold, she managed to persuade the owners to sell it to her.

As Jackie had already run a themed bar and restaurant in the east end of London, which unfortunately attracted a poorly behaved crowd, she was more than happy to get back behind the bar and transform it into somewhere she and like-minded people would love to socialise in.

They totally redecorated and replaced everything in the bar except the Artex ceiling, transforming it into a cosy hang out. Jackie says it feels like a cave inside and keeps them nice and warm in the winter. They have a team of five all-female staff who are very friendly and accommodating.

The bar attracts a wide clientele from gay woman and men who enjoy good wine and cocktails to locals dropping by for an after work drink. Jackie and Eve love dogs and enjoy being around people who share their interests.

Olive and friend wait for their Gin Bowl

In fact, most days you will find Olive, their Airedale Terrier entertaining her friends to a Gin bowl in the bar.

First and foremost Jackie is a people person and the bar is a way of life to her. In fact it is her life, and she thinks of it and her regulars, like her large extended family.

It is evident in the decor and the great customer service that Jackie loves the bar and wants others to love it just as much as she does. She serve amazing cocktails and Gin bowls, and everyone who drinks there is guaranteed a warm and friendly welcome.

OPINION: Transitioning with Sugar – Looking Forward by Ms Sugar Swan

Ms Sugar Swan
Ms Sugar Swan

Today sees me one week post op of my fourth, and hopefully last, hair transplant surgery.

Back in late February I headed to Latvia after a long search for a surgeon who would take on my hair restoration case. A tricky one due to the very advanced state of my balding. In April’s Gscene I covered the search for my surgeon and my experience of Latvia as a solo trans woman, to read online, click here:

I returned from Latvia having endured 2 days of surgery averaging 14 hours per day. 50% of my restoration complete and surgery dates booked in early May for two more days in theatre to complete the work.

As torturous as the process was and as hard as I found it to be alone and trans in an Ex-Soviet State it’s not those experiences that have stayed with me over the last 2 months and lead to a spiral in my mental ill health, causing me to isolate myself from those I love and avoid social situations. It was the actual thing that I am proactively trying to correct, my lack of hair.

Following surgery my head is swollen, painful, very delicate, takes a lot of care, and wigs are completely out of the question. Whilst pre surgery I could choose to wear a wig or not. Post op I was unable to wear one and that is completely different. Should I wish to wet shave my head and present as a bald woman, all power to me. When I am post op and have patches of hair growth, areas yet to be worked on and areas with baby hair growing I do not feel like a powerful bald woman but I am more conscious than ever of my head and troublesome hair. In the two weeks before my second trip I was able to wear a wig despite pain and itching for a few hours, but a few hours afforded me some welcome dysphoria relief.

I now feel like I am back to step 1. I am, once again, miserable for the summer ahead of me, having to stay out of the sun, covered up, without a wig, and I hate it. I hate that I wasn’t allowed to transition as a young girl before I lost my hair, I hate that nobody would help me when I was a teenager, I hate that I grew a beard that I am now slowly ridding myself of, I hate that I am 6ft 2, I hate that I am a size 10/44 foot, basically I feel as though I hate being trans.

Who would choose this life for themselves?

Being trans is so tiring. I question my ability to continue with transition. I wonder whether I should have taken what seems the easier path of suicide, opposed to the much harder path of transition. I wonder if I will ever be happy with my outward appearance. I wonder if I have the strength to make it through these next turbulent years as my body goes through transition. I wonder if I will still be a victim of suicide, but then, I remember.

I remember that I have invested many thousands of pounds into my transition already. I remember that I have just put myself through four 14 hour long operations to restore my hair, full results of which I will not see for around 2 years. I remember that I am battling the side effects of HRT and that the results of feminisation will not peak for many years. I remember that I am working towards further surgeries in 2018 and 2020.

Going through these slow processes, planning them, and seeing them through makes me realise that I am investing in my future. I actually have a future, I don’t hate being trans, and I am not going to be the victim of suicide.

I am a proud trans woman and I love the fact that I am finally able to transition. I do see a life for me in old age, I do have a plan, I plan to live. Being trans has allowed me to live, and, therefore, I love being trans. I love myself, and I am doing everything I can to make my future a long, productive, and worthwhile one. Being trans has saved my life and I try my very best to be a good advocate and activist for the cause. 

Being one week post op, I am, of course, feeling sorry for myself. I recognise all the signs of Post Operative Depression. I am sleep deprived, in horrendous pain, I can’t chew as it hurts my temples, and I am struggling to self care and remember my pills and injection regimes. Despite all this I must tell myself it is only temporary, it is another step to feeling as comfortable with my gender presentation as I do with my gender identity, and that it is all part of my bigger plan. A plan that does not include suicide. 

“I wonder if I have the strength to make it through these next turbulent years as my body goes through transition. I wonder if I will still be a victim of suicide, but then, I remember.”

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