How do we tell histories, particularly queer histories, when they are ignored by the establishment? In 1986, a loose design collective of around eight people named the House of Beauty and Culture started a shop in Dalston, east London. At the time, Dalston was a desolate area, nothing like the fashionable neighbourhood it is today. The House of Beauty and Culture was so unconventional, it barely ever opened.
Its output included shoes, furniture, garments, jewellery and art. Much of the work was made from salvaged materials, for both aesthetic and financial reasons: the collective were all broke. The floor of the shop was scattered with loose change, as a joke on their collective lack of money. Their romantic, fragile work was made against the backdrop of Margaret Thatcher’s Britain, in the shadow of the Aids crisis.
