My brother's final collection show at the RCA.

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"Hey, Superman?" inquired the boy standing in my path down London's notorious Brick Lane. He aimed me up and repeated himself, "...how's it going Superman?". Out of flattery and sarcasm I chose the latter, guessing this was some kind of taunt. We scuffed passed one another with me choosing to ignore things either way. Again he mistakenly addressed me causing me to get a second opinion from friends and family with me. "What?" I abruptly responded while turning on the spot, "you looking for a place to eat?". I hate those street ushers, "no, we've just eaten".

"You see Dave, it's awkward, I've been squatting for the last year or so since coming to London", my friend explained after I inquired as to why he was so coy around my family moments before. "I tried breaking a new one the other day but had problems, I've been staying with friend since the police found out the last one". And with this began my lesson on how to start a squat, Squatter's Rights and planning permission problems for landlords.

"Hold up boys", I heard over my left shoulder as we passed a group of part BMXed first generation Asian locals. I was walking with my friend towering over me, he was part leant on my shoulder and swinging his leg with every step (no doubt this was easier than tying the lace). "The law says you can't break and enter a place, but if a place is open and empty you can stay there providing you do a few things...". He stopped, he then flinched, as I looked to see why I felt something hit my right shoulder. For the second time I turned on the the spot, "what?".

"yeah what you doing like being gay and stuff"

"What you doing? What you being gay for like?", said one of the eight or so youths consciously limping along with chips in hand. "What's you problem?" I inquired in rage as my friend encouraged me to leave it. "We don't like that shit round here", said another, "yeah what you doing like being gay and stuff", added another. I made towards them slightly, "what are you going on about?".

It was all so bizarre, I was walking through one of London's more diverse regions, among a predominantly mixed immigrant community and being enlightened on conduct in my home nation by first generation school boys. Interestingly the Brick Lane area is home to many Muslims and having arrived from the Islamic Republic of Iran I found it especially bizarre that there was less tolerance in how men walk together in London, I mean, the Muslim men in Iran walk together with linked fingers.

"What you fucking doing like, walking like with your arm round each other and shit?", said another. "It's none of your business how I am with my friends...", I shouted back as they walked away seemingly surprised at my challenge. My friend tried to place this moment, nearly going as far as excusing their behavior. We caught them up at the end of the road where they'd gone their separate ways. Two of the boys stood in our path and things evened out.

"Mate, mate, you know like, my friend yeah, you know, he gets like that and shit", the local conduct was subject to negotiation it appeared. "You know what I mean mate, you just shouldn't be doing that shit around here, you know like arm around each other and shit", this boy was alone, his friend had his lips sealed. I heatedly had my two bob's worth which went some way in diffusing my anger and left having the one with the mouth offering matesy hand shakes before leaving this super hero and his floppy sidekick alone.

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