A man was wandering around the dance floor groping women. One incident involved him going up to a woman and grabbing her breast. She informed the bouncer who had a chat with him but didn’t remove him from the bar. He then proceeded to continue to grope other women who included my friend. When she stood up to him he just laughed in her face and walked off.
I went and told the bouncer that the guy had been groping everyone and really should be asked to leave and the bouncer just ignored me.

Both the guy and the bouncer angered me in this situation.

Playing live will be:

SISTERS [LISTEN HERE]
Spine-tingling gospel

SHOPPING [LISTEN HERE]
Jaw-rattling post punk

FEATURE [LISTEN HERE]
Soul-shaking future jams

[This is also their EP launch!]

£5 entry gets you a copy of LOII on entry. There will be readings from the zine also.

Langdon Olgar is a publication about the body and public space. It sits somewhere between zine, journal and artist’s book in form, and includes work from interested parties across the gender spectrum including Tavi Gevinson, Jen Calleja, Barbara Hammer, Jes Skolnik, Judy Berman, R.M Phoenix and many others, as well as art and writing from the editors themselves, and design and layout by Jamie Reid. It is staple-bound, full colour, and was professionally risograph printed by our friends at Ditto Press.

The gig is also a fundraiser for a poster campaign we are gearing up for that specifically targets pubs and club management to engage with the task of making their businesses less creepy (see our work with Fabric: http://www.fabriclondon.com/harassment) We now want to roll this out across lots of pubs and clubs across the city, so any profit after costs will go towards the printing costs for that. WOO!

This happened just a couple days ago whilst walking to the tube in Shepherd’s Bush. The people hanging out on the street me and my housemates live on seem to be 80% men and all three of us come home with stories of some sort of street harassment.
But a couple days ago whilst walking down our road I actually had a man (old enough to be my dad) reach out and stroke my arm as he walked past me. As soon as I felt him touch me I flinched and quickly pulled my arm away from him. Turning back to look at him, he said something to me in a foreign language and just grinned. Usually I would have given him a piece of my mind but I was so shocked and felt so sick that I just kept on walking.
Nobody around me seemed to notice or care, it was just seen as normal or something a woman should just put up with.
Nice.

There’s this local wine shop, Palace wines, which I love. The guys who usually work there are great. However, there seems to be one part timer who isn’t quite so wholesome.
I went in there with my girlfriend and my best friend, so we’re a group of gay girls. unfortunately, we don’t have ‘lesbian’ tattooed to our foreheads. We’re briwsing the shelves for booze, the guy behind the counter seemingly starts talking to himself about how he ‘flirts with all the female customers, even the fat ones’ (bear in mind none of us are) and then proceeds to make eyes at my girlfriend and says he’ll give her £0.01 off the bottle. I tell him most girls wouldn’t like being flirted with by him and that they probably want to be left alone, and that he should also watch how he treats his customers. He proceeds to say he wouldn’t be interested in us anyway. We pay for the wine without our penny discount.

This incident isn’t as serious as many that have been shared here, but I thought I would as it was so bizarrely inappropriate.

Yesterday I ran the London Marathon. You have to have your race number showing all the time, so I had a long-sleeved top on underneath my running vest. At mile 2, I decided to take off the long sleeved top, so as I ran along I pulled it up underneath the vest, got each of my arms out, and took it off over my head. At this point a group of men standing at the side of the road shouted out “WOAH Sexy!” at me. I have no idea whether this was intended as a compliment somehow, or if it was some sarcastic reflection of how unsexy I looked at that point, and frankly I don’t really care.

What baffles me is that although I was clearly doing an activity that had nothing to do with looking attractive, this group of men still decided to pass judgement on my ability to comply with society’s beauty ideals. This goes to show again that street harassment has nothing to do with how a woman is dressed or is behaving.

I didn’t do or say anything, because I needed all my energy for the 24 miles ahead of me. But next time I witness anything like this I’m going to speak up.

I’ve got your back.

Was sat in Camden Square park approx 18:30 19/04/13 just reading my book and enjoying the sunshine after working all day when a guy in his late 30′s in a khaki coat approached me, I only noticed him at the last minute as I was so engrossed in my book but he was saying “hey princess, princess? Can I chat to you?” I was caught off guard and hesetated rather stupidly not wanting to be rude and offend him – even though he was the one feeling he had the right to disturb a random person from reading her book ~ so I paused and said “O…..K? ” without smiling, maybe he was just wanting a chat? or maybe to ask directions/ opinion on somehting?
He then gestured to the bench next to me to sit down and then my suspicions were clarified so I shook my head still trying to be polite. He asked again and this time I just said “sorry… not really” I guess I ought to have been more direct I was just wishing he’d walk off and leave me alone!
He started to ask me “I was watching you with my friend over there” (gestures to his beer drinking friend on the bench across the other side) “we were talking about you, you should come and sit with us, whats your name princess?” I just shake my head – Im still beating myself up over not being more assertive – I just didn’t want it to get agressive. He asked again “hey princess don’t be rude, tell me your name” I then plucked up courage and said “I don’t have to tell you that” to which he laughed and tried to sit next to me, I told him not to and he carried on laughing.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, I just saw you and thought you were beautiful so thought you could be my friend” I was shaking pretty badly by now and the park had quietened down (there had been some mums and kids about when I’d arrived) I just gestured to my book “sorry, I’m not interested thanks, I just want to read” He just stared at me, it was so uncomfortable, “I don’t understand, you pretty girl lets chat” I then shook my head and kept my face unsmiling. “I just want to read, thanks” I gave him loads of chances to just leave me alone but he wouldn’t. He started to talk about how I was pretty and should be nice and come meet his friend, so I just made a show of wanting to read, looking at the book/ sighing/ frowning etc so finally FINALLY he began to stalk off.

“Alright princess, you ought to be smiling though” I was scared but angry by this point (this is my bloody park! I had every right to enjoy it!) “don’t tell me to smile” I pick up my book and get up, start to walk out. I look back though when I hear laughter to see them both following me, his friend then shouted “run away ho, stuck up dog!” so I speed up and hurry to the main road and luckily there were a lot of people waiting at the bus stop, so I go stand with them. Thankflly this seems to put them off and they double back and stalk off back to the park. I then have to take a long route back to my house close to tears. Thankyou you entitled sad wastes of skin! Thankyou for denying me access to my local park! I’m so angry right now!

This was two years ago when I was 16 and coming home from an interview for college, but I want to get it off of my chest.

I was on the Victoria Line with two male friends and the train was rather busy. They sat down and I didn’t want to so I was standing alone when I could feel something brush past the back of my skirt. I ignored it the first few times, but I turned around and saw a relatively young man, around 30 or so, turn around and pretend not to look at me.

I was confused, but decided to ignore it, because my stop was coming up, but he continued to grope me, in public. When I got off the train, I was shaking and swearing, to the extend that people were looking, because how is a 16 year old supposed to handle that? My friends wanted to know why I didn’t call them over but I didn’t want to make a scene; once, a man once pretended to grope me in the street and I ended up being pulled out of class and getting a lecture because I threw water on the guy and a teacher happened to walk past.

I don’t know what makes it worse for me; the fact I didn’t call him out, the fact that there were adults watching it happen, or that I was in a school uniform that afternoon.

I don’t want to be blamed for what happened; it wasn’t my fault. And I shouldn’t have to justify that to the men in the street who used to proclaim ‘schoolgirls are sexy’ as me and my friends would walk by, or to my head teacher who changed our school uniform rules, banning socks that come up over the knee because she didn’t want girls walking around like a man’s fantasy.

I’d say I’m over it now, but every time I get brushed against in the tube, my mind’s hyper-awareness tells me that I’m not.

I am 15, and a few weeks ago I was walking home from the town centre alone, having spent time there with my friends after school ended early. There were three boys playing football in the middle of the road (bad idea), and we recognised each other because they went to primary school with my younger brother. I didn’t answer when one of them asked me a question, so he called me “frigid” and said “I’ll do her one day”. I walked away quickly, but I wish I had called him out. These horrible people aren’t grown men, they are 13-year-old boys, and it just proves that our culture is sending young men the wrong messages. It needs to stop.

I was walking home from work at around 6pm in the evening. As I walked down the street a man in a hoody said “Nice bush”. I felt absolutely disgusted. I stopped and was about to say something but decided against it as he was quite far away and walking swiftly round a corner. I felt very angry on my way back and then decided not to let this knuckle dragger spoil my day.

A man shouted at me ‘Show us your beaver!’ at 7.30pm on a Monday. Him and his friend then laughed like naughty schoolchildren when I told him to get back in his box…