From A Guide to Creative Prison Breaks
By renowned escapologist
Kristy M.

Escape #0417: SPRING CLEAN AWAY

April offers weather favourable to a break
out on foot. Ideal escape conditions can be found when your prison governor
initiates great refurbishment projects and brings in architects and their crew.

If you have been inside for a while, you
may not recognise modern designers and architects. Today they no longer dress
formally. They are creative with their attire and so should you. Recognisable prison
trousers? A permanent marker is the way to freedom. Get your cell mate to cut
your hair (if you trust them not to cut your throat as well).

You will have to work fast: artists never
linger, you don't want to miss your chance!

Watch them carefully: identify the pattern
in their apparently random movements. You will soon recognise the signal to their
departure from their gaze becoming vaguely abstract. That's when you need to
spring into action: reveal your disguise from under an old prison uniform. The
stripes on your trousers are now a structured grid and years of hair growth are
cropped for a funky look.

All that is left for you to do is to join the
designers as they exit the building, a sample under one arm, nodding knowingly
at patches of peeling wall paint.

On March 8th we joined the strike in support of all creative and resolute women ;-)

Rachel put her battle gear on: pink helmet, warm jacket, sweat pants and sneakers not ready to run but to stand defiant.
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Rachel si è vestita da battaglia: elmo rosa, giacca calda, pantaloni della tuta e scarpe da ginnastica  non per correre ma per star ritta, pronta alla sfida.

Early spring inspired Martha Hairy to wear polka-dots, so she walked out of her front door sporting spots in a variety of sizes and colours from top to shoes.

Her orders this morning are to pick up details of the observation mission in the park and camouflage equipment, in the usual secret location.On the way she wonders what camouflage for a small patch of green with a couple of flowerbeds would be like. She pictures herself sitting on a flower dressed as a ladybird. She has now arrived at a scruffy second-hand record shop where Boris stands behind the counter looking like something between an aging hippy and a domesticated biker. 

He winks at her and adds "the boss is downstairs waiting for you with the Admiral". She is taken aback. She thought it was a run of the mill job, no brass involved. She feels a little unsettled as she descends into the secret basement. "Agent Hairy, you will be on observation and information gathering in the designated park every morning until new orders. Here's your cover: meet Nelson".

Martha finds herself holding a squirming, licking bundle of fur in the shape of a black Labrador pup.The life of a spy can be hard, however it does sometime have its perks.

It was about time to deliver new cutouts ;-)

Chloé Vadot Journalist found a great way to describe our project. We are very pleased to be featured in such an international platform!
thanks Chloé!

read her full article HERE

Mabel was on her way wearing her (very expensive) crocodile-toothed platform shoes. She was carrying her portfolio of magic for the Coven in the wild woodland up north. She had a few new spells and some magic. Straightening bananas was her latest, of any use only to fussy bakers with a need for individual identical banana rounds. Turning peaches blue, Mabel had to admit, was no use whatsoever, only very theatrical since it involved a spell, a touch with the wand and a bit of pyrotechnics. Once the smoke dissolved and the bystanders had gone “oooh”, however, nobody would eat the blue fruits.

The ace up her sleeve, though, was the parking spell: anywhere anytime, a free parking spot would appear. Brilliant.

As Mabel approached her car, she heard rustling at the back of the garage shelves. And there it was, dusting itself down and beckoning to her: grandmother’s broomstick! It twinkled and winked at her and it glided gently to her side. Mabel brandished the broom and declared “To hell with conventions!”, and hopped on board with her clipboard of wonders. On the broomstick she soared above the roofs and veered south, to the bright lights of the Odeon Arena and the glitzy auditions for Witches Have Talent.