the first, coinciding with fashion week, was for a friend's hat label, with a lush gathering happening in london's sketch, a posh and post modern restaurant/ bar/ event space, which was very popular and the place to be, a decade or so ago.
yashkathor, made of the creator's names (yashka; my female friend and her business partner, thor), is an avant garde, super intelligent and meticulously hand - stitched hat label, with stories behind every hat:
'The Invisible Cat
There once was a woman who loved her cat. She used to go on walks with it. One day another woman chased the cat inside, and it ran out. They all searched for it for a long time, and when it came back, the cat was invisible. Now you still see the woman walking with her invisible cat'.
'Kazakh
'Kazakh
Between the cracks of the earth, the woman was born. Where the continents of Asia and Europe meet, and the Ural River runs. She emerged. Aged 23, or some other age. One couldn’t tell, for she had never lived before this day, neither would she live again after.
She crawled out of the water. Hands and knees in the mud. Opening her eyes for the very first time, she looked up to the sky and said in a deep husky voice ‘Thank you my lord’.
Immediately she ran. Naked and still wet. Terrified of her body. It hurt. She had splinters and scratches. When she fell she bit on her lip and bled. She crossed the hills, and continued to run until she got blisters under her feet. Her throat was dry and her muscles sore.
Exhausted from her marathon, she fell to the ground and fell asleep.
When she awoke a few minutes later, she was lying in a bed. A group of hunters had found the mysterious woman and taken her home. They washed her and they fed her. They asked her no questions. They admired her. With hair as black as the mud through which she crawled, eyes as blue as the river that runs through it, and skin as yellow as the limestone through which the water flows, her beauty was deep and shallow. They called her Kazakh; the free spirit.
She wanted to thank the hunters for helping her. So she touched them and let them swim in her shallow waters. But this was so good, that the hunters wanted more. But in the deep runs a strong current, which will drown you. The hunters were now her slaves.
They built her a chair. They made her a long beautiful white silk dress, which looked like a large t-shirt. They constructed her a hat made out of rabbit hair felt. And she made them parade her around the village, where she took all the men and thanked them. She did this with all the villages, until all the men in both continents Asia and Europe screamed her name ‘Kazakh’ – ‘Kazakh’.
20 hours had passed since the earth had given birth to the free spirited woman, and she was now queen, sat in her chair accepting men and their presents. They were all lined up, like an army. They had all shared her, and this had created the strongest bond between men and continents ever lived. An army of men no one would conquer.
But she had only 4 hours left, and she had never met a woman. Where were they? In the villages she had seen none. In the hills she had seen none. Only men. Heavy bearded men.
So she ordered her army to find her a woman.
But, nothing happened. The men remained still.
Furious that the men did not obey her order, Kazakh cried and screamed. ‘Find me a woman!’
But the problem was, the only woman the men had ever seen had been Kazakh. The men had been raised by men, loved by men, killed by men, and borne by men. They had lived in a world of lines, without circles – before Kazakh came. Where they had paired in groups of 2, 3 or 4, but never more. They had been happy, but not free, for all their lives they had been forced to walk the same pace in different directions.
Kazakh realised that she would never touch a woman’s breast, or kiss a woman’s lips. She would never feel the inside of a woman’s skin other than her own. But with only 4 hours left, Kazakh had to satisfy her desire, somehow. Find peace, before it was too late.
She told her army to go the river, collect the limestone – and build her a castle in the shape of a woman. Within 3 hours it was done. The statue, which was a castle, in the shape of a woman, was Kazakh herself – for she was the only woman the men had in mind.
She told her army to wait outside, and never enter. She entered alone. She took of her t-shirt dress, but kept her hat. For she would die a queen. She touched and kissed the walls inside. And whispered a song she remembered the river had sung to her when she was born. In Kazakh’s last hour she made love to her castle. And gave birth to a 1000 women, who left Kazakh one by one and joined the men outside'.
YashkaThor, believe the hats, which incorporate different shapes and they come with different names:abraska, pindari, althazar, leonard..., have transformative powers that affect the wearer’s mood, appearance and experiences.
Immediately she ran. Naked and still wet. Terrified of her body. It hurt. She had splinters and scratches. When she fell she bit on her lip and bled. She crossed the hills, and continued to run until she got blisters under her feet. Her throat was dry and her muscles sore.
Exhausted from her marathon, she fell to the ground and fell asleep.
When she awoke a few minutes later, she was lying in a bed. A group of hunters had found the mysterious woman and taken her home. They washed her and they fed her. They asked her no questions. They admired her. With hair as black as the mud through which she crawled, eyes as blue as the river that runs through it, and skin as yellow as the limestone through which the water flows, her beauty was deep and shallow. They called her Kazakh; the free spirit.
She wanted to thank the hunters for helping her. So she touched them and let them swim in her shallow waters. But this was so good, that the hunters wanted more. But in the deep runs a strong current, which will drown you. The hunters were now her slaves.
They built her a chair. They made her a long beautiful white silk dress, which looked like a large t-shirt. They constructed her a hat made out of rabbit hair felt. And she made them parade her around the village, where she took all the men and thanked them. She did this with all the villages, until all the men in both continents Asia and Europe screamed her name ‘Kazakh’ – ‘Kazakh’.
20 hours had passed since the earth had given birth to the free spirited woman, and she was now queen, sat in her chair accepting men and their presents. They were all lined up, like an army. They had all shared her, and this had created the strongest bond between men and continents ever lived. An army of men no one would conquer.
But she had only 4 hours left, and she had never met a woman. Where were they? In the villages she had seen none. In the hills she had seen none. Only men. Heavy bearded men.
So she ordered her army to find her a woman.
But, nothing happened. The men remained still.
Furious that the men did not obey her order, Kazakh cried and screamed. ‘Find me a woman!’
But the problem was, the only woman the men had ever seen had been Kazakh. The men had been raised by men, loved by men, killed by men, and borne by men. They had lived in a world of lines, without circles – before Kazakh came. Where they had paired in groups of 2, 3 or 4, but never more. They had been happy, but not free, for all their lives they had been forced to walk the same pace in different directions.
Kazakh realised that she would never touch a woman’s breast, or kiss a woman’s lips. She would never feel the inside of a woman’s skin other than her own. But with only 4 hours left, Kazakh had to satisfy her desire, somehow. Find peace, before it was too late.
She told her army to go the river, collect the limestone – and build her a castle in the shape of a woman. Within 3 hours it was done. The statue, which was a castle, in the shape of a woman, was Kazakh herself – for she was the only woman the men had in mind.
She told her army to wait outside, and never enter. She entered alone. She took of her t-shirt dress, but kept her hat. For she would die a queen. She touched and kissed the walls inside. And whispered a song she remembered the river had sung to her when she was born. In Kazakh’s last hour she made love to her castle. And gave birth to a 1000 women, who left Kazakh one by one and joined the men outside'.
YashkaThor, believe the hats, which incorporate different shapes and they come with different names:abraska, pindari, althazar, leonard..., have transformative powers that affect the wearer’s mood, appearance and experiences.
YashkaThor is devoted to creating radical luxury.
i came up with the idea of cocktails and hats, as i knew we would have a great creative and fun collaboration, which really has started with this event.
i was to curate a drink, respecting the ethos and agreeing with the concept of the label... what a challenge: cocktails and hats.
i called it YT7, which is the initials of the creators and their never ending age!
and it was vodka based with white tea absolute vodka, lemon juice, sugar, lychee juice and jasmine syrup.
it was a fine, stylish and busy affair. we drank a lot of YT7s, a lot of prosecco we listened to stories and good quality music, some of us were illustrated, wearing yashkathor hats and we mingled happily; i bumped into a blast from the past former close friend and now, a mere acquaintance and after a phone call, i took a bunch of us VIPs, to king's head members club, where i'm a member and i did a small stint as a bar consultant and where my second drink was created, for christa's 40th: the incredible holka!
king's head members club is a new members place in dalston, which opened earlier this year. it used to be a dark and scary (apparently) irish pub, full of locals and curious hipsters, who liked to drink.
now, it is a four storey renovated building with a basement club with a bar and a monkey, holding a machine gun, a ground floor area with a round bar and a huge tiger above it and booths for sitting and two floors upstairs, with a dining room and a bar, a huge bear and a peacock, a butterfly room, with a dining table, a jungle room, full of taxidermy: lions, zebras, tigers, bears, birds... and huge dining table, smack in the middle, for dinners and meetings and late night shenanigans and a little landing in between with huge sofas and lots of birds above to look at and admire, as it is possible the closest we can get to see these beauties?
as a committee member, i can bring guests, enjoy the whatever perks and organise happenings. i brought cris's 30th clan and so i decided to do something for christa and her 40th. family ties.
a mint and fresh chili with lemon juice and topped up with ginger beer, was what christa was drinking all night, as she is on her diligent year long sabbatical from booze, which is brilliant and worthy.
the incredible holka, as justin, the compere and a close friend, fondly named, was a vodka based built up drink, with lemon juice, jasmine syrup, ginger beer over crushed ice and it was great to see the jasmine working well with bitter and sweet flavours, adding to the drink.
there was a lot of cake and a lot of dancing and a lot of wonderful people celebrating, loving, contributing.
we had a theme: london 1973. i wore a suit, ruffled shirt and flares! huge, floppy bow tie, too.
fun.
for more information, stories and sample of hats, go here: www.yashkathor.com
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Follow @theliquorbar
i came up with the idea of cocktails and hats, as i knew we would have a great creative and fun collaboration, which really has started with this event.
i was to curate a drink, respecting the ethos and agreeing with the concept of the label... what a challenge: cocktails and hats.
i called it YT7, which is the initials of the creators and their never ending age!
and it was vodka based with white tea absolute vodka, lemon juice, sugar, lychee juice and jasmine syrup.
it was a fine, stylish and busy affair. we drank a lot of YT7s, a lot of prosecco we listened to stories and good quality music, some of us were illustrated, wearing yashkathor hats and we mingled happily; i bumped into a blast from the past former close friend and now, a mere acquaintance and after a phone call, i took a bunch of us VIPs, to king's head members club, where i'm a member and i did a small stint as a bar consultant and where my second drink was created, for christa's 40th: the incredible holka!
king's head members club is a new members place in dalston, which opened earlier this year. it used to be a dark and scary (apparently) irish pub, full of locals and curious hipsters, who liked to drink.
now, it is a four storey renovated building with a basement club with a bar and a monkey, holding a machine gun, a ground floor area with a round bar and a huge tiger above it and booths for sitting and two floors upstairs, with a dining room and a bar, a huge bear and a peacock, a butterfly room, with a dining table, a jungle room, full of taxidermy: lions, zebras, tigers, bears, birds... and huge dining table, smack in the middle, for dinners and meetings and late night shenanigans and a little landing in between with huge sofas and lots of birds above to look at and admire, as it is possible the closest we can get to see these beauties?
as a committee member, i can bring guests, enjoy the whatever perks and organise happenings. i brought cris's 30th clan and so i decided to do something for christa and her 40th. family ties.
a mint and fresh chili with lemon juice and topped up with ginger beer, was what christa was drinking all night, as she is on her diligent year long sabbatical from booze, which is brilliant and worthy.
the incredible holka, as justin, the compere and a close friend, fondly named, was a vodka based built up drink, with lemon juice, jasmine syrup, ginger beer over crushed ice and it was great to see the jasmine working well with bitter and sweet flavours, adding to the drink.
there was a lot of cake and a lot of dancing and a lot of wonderful people celebrating, loving, contributing.
we had a theme: london 1973. i wore a suit, ruffled shirt and flares! huge, floppy bow tie, too.
fun.
for more information, stories and sample of hats, go here: www.yashkathor.com
Y
Follow @theliquorbar
Those drinks look sweet.
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