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I grew up on the Spice Girls. Wearing awkward crop tops, jelly shoes and glitter lip gloss,
while my sister played Pac from the bedroom. Cassette tapes rolling as I dance to “sweet
like chocolate boy” with a Gameboy Colour on charge, waiting for my hips to stop swaying.
I lived for Nirvana, looking back on yesteryears and ‘real’ music. I was skateboarding
before it was cool and I would ride my bike for hours with the boyz in the hood, watching
old films when we got back, tired, suntanned. Sunny D on deck.

Oi! I was practically a member of More Fire Crew, you know my brother knows them right?
Freestyling comes easy on the field at school, I can roll with the best of the boys, with
beats playing through a Nokia built for war. My Mum came from Disco and my Father loves
Luther Vandross, they’re the soundtracks to Sundays cleaning. I would roll out of bed to
watch My Wife and Kids, That’s So Raven and Kenan & Kel – because you know I love that
orange soda, “I do, I do, I do-oooh!”. American shows had the best bedrooms, always
cooler than mine. Then I’d run to school, forever keeping those edges slick, shimmering in
the bleak of London.

I am one generation — many voices.

This is an extract from Viper’s AW17 NOMAD issue. Buy physical and digital copies via Viper World.

Words by Cherée for 94Five
Photos by Thursday



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