Westfield attacks Tower Bridge

Psychogeographers across London are weeping with excitement/despair at the prospect of visiting Westfield, a mall the size of the Isle of Wight that recently replaced an area of London formerly known as Shepherds Bush. I've not been yet, and in any case lack the Benjaminian nous to do justice to such sprall. We better hope that Mike Davis or Iain Sinclair publishes a multi-volume work on the place at some point. But lets just reflect on the image that is currently plastered across the London Underground, selling the place:

The lights rising to the left of the picture are supposed to be from Westfield, breaking through the gloom of these dark, post-credit days. The shepherds and Wise Men will be making their way there shortly. Ignore the woman with the bad posture in the red shirt for a moment. What is that in the middle?!

Tower Bridge has been replaced by some 'shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather' (perhaps the woman in the red shirt is the 'whiplash girlchild in the dark'), chained to the ground, and strapped together with taut leather belts. Gosh. Is this further evidence of 'fausterity' on the rise? Or do I just see S&M everywhere? Don't answer that question.

Actually what is more striking about that image is the violent abuse of scale. Why have they replaced Tower Bridge with some leather boots, belts and bling chains? No, honestly, why? Perhaps even their advertising drones were struggling to capture the full gaudy scale of Westfield, recognising that there is no neat or simple way of conveying quite what the place is all about. Only an inexplicable act of wanton consumerist devastation - replacing London's most famous landmark with Victoria Beckham's wardrobe - gets close to an image of Westfield.

You've got your work cut out, Messrs Davis and Sinclair: Westfield is the first shopping centre that already knows its full awfulness.

Comments

[Rob Knight]

I'm actually fairly certain that whoever designs these things does understand how awful they are and is prepared to celebrate that awfulness for its own sake. Nothing else could possibly explain the entrance to the Trafford Centre (and, trust me, that's not the worst of it).

I've always felt quite ambivalent about it; on the one hand it's awful for all of the obvious reasons, but I can't help admiring the completely unabashed willingness to shove that awfulness square in everyone's face.

[Will Davies]

Thanks Rob, that really is a gem.

I note the words written across that neo-classical trifle read 'Hold Fast That Which Is Good'. A quick bit of googling reveals these to be lifted from the New Testament, St Paul's letter to the Thessalonians. Bondage gear suddenly seems rather appropriate by comparison...

[Liz]

http://www.googlefight.com/index.php?lang=en_GB&word1=tower+bridge&word2=buckingham+palace

[Will Davies]

For a brief and surreal moment there, I thought a woman had commented on my blog. Then I realised from the given email - hrh@windsor.com - it was (presumably) a man impersonating Her Majesty, and normality was resumed

[Phil]

The thing about the Trafford Centre is that it's not fake opulence, it's real opulence - what looks like marble is, in fact, marble. It's the gold bathtap stage of retail theatre - the shopping centre itself as conspicuous consumer.