I have very little memory of the Berlin Wall coming down. In 1989 I was a nineteen-year-old art student, so I probably had cheap lager and charcoal on my mind. And, looking back, it was the least stylish moment in history to date. Horrible jeans, horrible jackets, moustaches, big spectacles, and very bad haircuts. Funny how the hipsters of today seem to be dressing in exactly the same manner.
Some friends and I went down to Brandenburg Gate yesterday to see what was going on. Lots of policemen, lots of people, lots of telly cameras, lots of rain, lots of umbrellas, zero toilets. We hung around for about an hour, then someone mentioned pizza. So we gave up and celebrated East Germany’s twenty-year-old freedom by filling our capitalist bellies.