iiii Magazine is an independent arts and culture publication, based in London and Manchester. We talk about culture in the sense suggested by Francis Bacon, when he said of intellectual enrichment: 'the culture and manurance of minds’. Our approach to culture is the same: that something bright and engaging may be derived from detritus. We love cultural ephemera in particular, and despite Bacon’s near-perfect turn of phrase, it is the position of the magazine that it is not sufficient. We publish articles that stretch our assumptions of what culture can be, so long as they are forged with originality.
We place no limits on subject matter or form — we have published incisive criticism, personal essays and memoirs, humour pieces and odes to oddities — but we take as a guiding principle this from Flann O’Brien’s The Third Policeman (1967):
‘Always ask any questions that are to be asked […] Turn everything you hear to your own advantage. Always carry a repair outfit. Take left turns as much as possible. Never apply your front brake first’.
¶ Visit Our Shop
Support the magazine by visiting our SHOP.
~ With the help of Studio Hyte, we created a football (scarf) with no crest, no local, nor national allegiance — a garment that challenges the ugly attitudes that alienate so many from the beautiful game.
~ As well as looking fresh, your (scarf) is also doing its bit to address the aforementioned issues, with 10% of all profits raised donated to LGBT charity Stonewall (Charity number: 1101255)
¶ Work With Us
iiii Magazine is a non-profit organisation, and our modest team of editors, reporters, and social scribes work on a voluntary basis. We do have plans to address this in the future. As it is we are looking for a creative, driven individual to join the team, to help shape future editions. If you would like to work for iiii Magazine, do send a CV and a cover letter outlining the sort of role you would like to take to email@example.com. We will do our best to get back to you quickly.
¶ Forthcoming Editions
A Publication by iiii Magazine: A look at football culture through twenty classic kits
(crest) is a book that entwines history, design, and football culture to enliven debate about belonging — both local and national — in a fractious British and European moment. Classic football kits are artefacts highly sought after by collectors and fans alike. Is this a question of design, of a club’s success, or of nostalgia? Can it be all or none of these things? In twenty short essays by twenty writers, (crest) charts the peculiar histories of each of the 2018/19 Premier League football clubs through the lens of a prized classic kit from the past decades. The book takes football seriously at its root, and looks at how larger forces drive the sense of allegiance of football-loving individuals — what hidden personal stories make the Beautiful Game beautiful when it can seem so ugly?
Produced by iiii Magazine, (crest) will feature quality photography and minimalist design. iiii encourages deep and engaged archival research, as well as idiosyncratic and strange personal stories. Whatever the mode or the form, iiii Magazine is committed to providing generous editorial support to writers.
The online publication continues all year round, and publishes articles in three broad categories:
- Esoterica and funny writing [the stranger, more parochial, the better]
- Long-form interviews and features
- The 500 [react, respond in 500 words to an artefact, a lyric, a piece of punctuation, anything]
If your text does not fit into one of the above categories, don't fret, we just need a pitch. Please send a query or an extract from your text to firstname.lastname@example.org with SUBMISSION in the subject line. Work should be previously unpublished; but we will consider work under consideration elsewhere if you let us know. We are run by a team of volunteers, and thus we are unfortunately not yet in a position to offer a fee.
Please provide a short author’s bio-line which will be published under your piece. 'Algenon Overling is a fictional writer based in 12th Century Denmark. He likes to relax with his kestrel and his crossbow. Good with kids’.
Please defer to the short style guide. It not only saves on editorial nit-picking, but illustrates commitment to the publication.
- Oxford commas, yes. In lists of three or more things, include a comma between the final two, before the ‘and’ (Manchester, Leeds, and London).
- Titles of books, films, exhibitions italicised. Titles of artworks ‘Like This’ (2018).
- One space after full-stops. Always.
- ‘Use single quotation marks “except for quotes within quotes” at all times’.
- Include spaces before and after em-dashes. (I wouldn’t — but for in unlikely circumstances — consider a teacake).
- Dates: 5 May 2016 / Decades: 1980s.
- Special formatting requirements are difficult to manage on an optimised website, but we will always try to meet a writer’s needs.
Rapha Bucket Hat
In January this year, Rapha revealed the new kit collection for EF Education First Pro Cycling, a team atop the pile of the cycling world’s pros. For those who wait patiently for the release of a cycling team’s new kit for the upcoming season, there was, for once, a reward. In pink and blue acid-wash psychedelia the kit stands out against the drab, conformist blacks and clumsily placed sponsors’ logos of other pro teams’ kits. There was, of course, the usual attire, the shorts and the jerseys, but one item stood out. A bucket hat. Here was an object, a style so different, so at odds with the militant order of the pro teams, and the monkish dedication and sobriety of professional bike riders, an accessory synonymous not with athleticism but rave and 90s drug culture.
Once, rave culture aspired to brands, now brands aspire to rave culture. The subversion, the freedom, the euphoria has been subsumed into the consumable, the safe, the obvious. Rave has been harnessed by capital and the cult of wellbeing.
The bankers, the wealthy MAMILs, clad in Rapha, the 20-somethings too, we can imagine, watch the debauchery of Trainspotting with a sick fascination. Here is another space, a zone in which to operate outside the banality of everyday life. There is something that can be reached through alternate modes of living, thoughts, ideas, connections grasped through the alterity of drug taking, of dancing. Yet this is uncomfortable too: antithetical to the ultimate aim of being a productive, health-conscious person. This is a rupture that is desired but proves too disruptive. Thank god Mark Renton has made his way onto a treadmill.
Thank god too that after a good night’s sleep we can party in the early hours at a juice rave, that Ministry of Sound is not just a club, but a gym. We cannot return to the 90s, no, but we don’t even have to return to the night to get a sense of how the now idolised decade may have been. We can go to Gymbox, designed by Ben Kelly, who designed Haçienda. A recent ad campaign showed the outline of a pill and joked that at Gymbox you could, “Get your heart rate above 150 …legally”. A model citizen is a healthy citizen! Live in the comfort of the law. Get your kicks with a clear conscience. Lose yourself to the music, gurn your teeth, surrounded by the lights, the hazard lines, the concrete. Get ripped. Go hard. Come back to your desk remembering how you went all the way. Tell your boss.
The consumer-spectator needn’t trudge through the ruins and the relics of culture, they can run, jump and cycle through them, harnessing their bodies and realising their physical capabilities. In Against Exercise Mark Greif described exercise as a numbers game, where individuals seek to “discover and regulate the machine-like processes” in their bodies. This is still true, although exercise is now compounded with alternative future visions, which have been stripped from the social and given to the individual. The utopian possibility of the rave has turned into the utopian possibility for one’s own self.