Cloud Cult

WE'RE SUPPORTING

Matthew Langille is a talented New York-based illustrator and graphic artist. Not content just to work on paper, he’s also successfully made the leap to textile designer. He sells designs for apparel, footwear, bags and sunglasses, landing big name clients like Marc Jacobs and Victoria’s Secret.

WE'RE TRAVELLING TO

There’s something quite captivating about the muted tones and soft textures of Anna Fraser’s photographs. The Australian designer has a very precise sense of framing, which is reflected in the slightly insidery, but beautifully balanced perspective that her work provides on places and scenery that only few people ever get to experience. By her own admission, Fraser ‘prefers things that are not usually very fashionable. Like beige, lots of beige and maybe a bit of taupe’. We think she might be onto something. Read more

WE'RE WEARING

It doesn’t transform or actually play music, but this watch with a face that looks like a cassette tape, is still pretty cool. Read more

WE'RE THINKING

There’s a radiance about the creative work emanating from Brooklyn, New York right now; a glistening, velvetine glow that seeps through the illustrations and art and tickles the melodies of every hipster four-piece. Read more

WE'RE READING

I really don’t understand cat haters. Most of them claim that our feline companions are aloof and distant, graceful and mysterious to a fault. In my opinion, cats are just as goofy as dogs, which is why any documentation of them acting like spazzes makes me chuckle uncontrollably. Read more

Seldom has black humour been done so well. On the surface, this film about the everyday lives of some unusually mundane characters, sounds extraordinarily boring. But it is instead a cutting comment on the absurdity and drudgery of everyday life. The characters try to break out or change their lives without success, and the results are bleak and hilarious. Read more

WE'RE LISTENING TO

I’ve heard whispers that Kings Of Convenience, the Norwegian duo of folkloric proportions, have split. I hope they’re unfounded, but like all good rumours, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Perhaps Erland Oye is enjoying the unlimited scope of his solo career too much? And then there’s his new submorphic guitar pop project, The Whitest Boy Alive, to keep him occupied. The whitest boy alive? Indeed he is. But damn the guy can sing.