Welcome to February. Four weeks on the nose of grim weather, short days and a mild chance of any socialising. In Dispatch 11, we catch up with Ollie Pride from Outsider’s Store over easy miles and cream-filled croissants. Also included: a book recommendation that bucks the trend of typical running literature; a minute-by-minute breakdown of what happens inside the body when we knock back an espresso; five must-see movies that use lingo that’s close to our heart; and a self-taught London-based designer that’s making one-of-a-kind day packs.

Something on your radar that's worth sharing? CLICK HERE

A SPACE IN BETWEEN WITH OLLIE PRIDE FROM OUTSIDER’S STORE (1 MIN READ)

We meet at 7:30am as the sun starts to lift itself over Hackney Marshes. There’s a light drizzle in the air. Not enough to complain about, but enough to justify good layers. The darkness gives way to a pale, indecisive grey. The fields are flat and empty. It’s only us, the seagulls and long rows of identical white frames lining the pitches. The goalposts stand bare, stripped of their nets, giving the place an eerie calm. It feels like a liminal zone, a space in between.

There’s a distant hum of traffic, the looming silhouettes of nearby buildings, the odd abandoned glove or water bottle half-sunken in the mud. Signs of people everywhere, yet no one to be seen. We cover boggy ground and chew the fat. About life. Work and love. Food, clothes, travel. The kind of honest conversation that seems to arrive with ease when you’re moving side by side. 

Afterwards, we head to Leo’s on Chatsworth Road. Two coffees. Two cornetto alla crema. Around us, each table is deep in their own Sunday ritual. On a weekday, moments like this feel earned or rushed. On Sundays, they’re simply allowed to exist. Unnecessary by design.

DAN GEE: FLUID DESIGN (1 MIN READ)

Back in 2021, while the rest of us were finding ways to kill time in lockdown, Dan Gee was learning how to sew. Gifted a sewing machine by his mum, he took to YouTube to learn the basics. Before long, he was making bags at home using rolls of technical fabric that he picked up on eBay. Dan Gee bags are built to be used, but they’re not just about pure function. As Dan puts it, “The bags that we use most are always the most practical, but some ideas I have don’t subscribe to that. Some things can just look fucking cool for the sake of it, and that’s ok. I try to find a balance of both.”

When it comes to designing a new piece, Dan keeps things pretty fluid. He told us, “Most of the time, I find a reference and manipulate it until it becomes something new and exciting. Sometimes this involves sketches, but many times I just draft the pattern, make adjustments on the fly and revise the design until I’m happy.” The end result is right up our street: functional details (think adjustable straps, buckles and modular pockets) and technical fabrics, paired with earthy colour palettes and a strong utilitarian aesthetic.

Shop Dan Gee pieces at dan-gee.com

BUST THE BLOCK (1 MIN READ)

Some of my favourite films are the ones that shine a light on small pockets of England at specific moments in time. Not postcard Britain, but the real stuff: backstreets, pubs, subcultures and the way people actually spoke, dressed and carried themselves. Films rooted in lived experience, where class, attitude and identity are worn as loudly as the clothes.

These five movies are undeniably British. They’re rough-edged, honest and soaked in regional flavour. The list could go on and on, but there was one simple rule for this selection: each film had to feature the word “clobber” in the dialect. A term that stinks of British culture, used for decades by everyone from sharp-dressed Mods to small-time villains, and still floating around the country today.

The picks:

  • Snatch (2000)
  • Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998)
  • Get Carter (1971)
  • Quadrophenia (1979)
  • This Is England (2007)

WHAT I TALK ABOUT WHEN I TALK ABOUT RUNNING (1 MIN READ)

Born in Kyoto in 1949, Haruki Murakami writes novels that make the strange feel familiar. Behind the dreamy stories, there’s a man who lives life like a long-distance runner. And he writes about it.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is part diary, part meditation and part pep talk, disguised as a book. Murakami takes you on a jog through his own life, how he began running, how he balances writing with physical discipline, and how endurance in running mirrors endurance in creative pursuits.

Murakami writes about the small, universal moments of running that the rest of us experience but struggle to explain. The early morning runs when thoughts falls away, the mind empties, and only movement remains. The idea that pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional - a mantra that carries him through long runs and long novels. The bad days, when the run feels heavy, the pages feel empty, but showing up matters more than perfection. Murakami admits he is not especially fast or naturally gifted, but stubborn, and it is this stubbornness that allows him to keep going when the miles drag and the words don’t come. Music, from jazz to rock to classical, sets the pace for his runs and his days.

In blending the physical art of running with the inner life of a novelist, Murakami offers a perspective on running that feels intimate and philosophical. By the final pages, it’s clear that What I Talk About When I Talk About Running isn’t really about running. It’s about commitment. About choosing a life that supports the work you want to do, and then returning to that choice again and again. Murakami runs because it helps him write. He writes because he must.

JITTER JUICE (1 MIN READ)

Coffee divides people. Some won’t touch the stuff. Others can’t function without it. Like it or lump it, coffee - or more specifically, caffeine - hijacks your body chemistry in a way that can leave you feeling pretty unhinged if you misjudge the dosage. But when timed and dosed right, caffeine is like rocket fuel for performance. Here’s a breakdown of what happens inside our bodies in the hour-and-a-half after we take down an espresso.

Immediately, caffeine hits the stomach and small intestine. Nothing dramatic yet, but the fuse is lit. Within 5-10 minutes, caffeine crosses the blood-brain barrier and blocks adenosine (the molecule that tells you to chill out). Alertness climbs. At around 20 minutes, dopamine and noradrenaline levels rise. Reaction times sharpen. Motivation spikes. You’re switched ON. 30 minutes in, adrenaline enters the chat. Heart rate increases, blood flow improves and the mind-muscle connection tightens up. Muscle fibres get recruited more efficiently. Pain signals are dampened. In the 30-60 minutes after ingestion, blood caffeine levels peak. Perceived effort drops, strength and power improve, endurance feels more sustainable, and discomfort becomes easier to tolerate. You’re temporarily changed. At around 90 minutes, the edge levels off. The buzz steadies. Mental stimulation starts to fade and effort gradually creeps back toward baseline.

Sounds potent, right?

So how much caffeine should you be taking? Research suggests around 3-6mg per kilogram of bodyweight. That said, caffeine isn’t a one-size-fits-all weapon. Tolerance, timing, sleep, stress and sheer genetic weirdness all play a role in how hard it hits. Start conservative, pay attention to how you feel and don’t mistake more jitters for more performance. 

For the avoidance of doubt and claims that we’re responsible for your lack of sleep and crippling paranoia, this is not medical advice.