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I grew up in Brighton but moved to the capital about four years ago. In the time since, I've foolishly acquired the view many Londoner's hold of the seaside city. It's 'London's beach', a novelty destination for boozy weekends, nostalgic walks along the pier, kitsch cabaret perfomances, rock candy and Pride parades. It's a playground for city-slickers with a taste for the unusual and an eye on the horizon. Perhaps most importantly, it takes the out-of-towner less than an hour to get back to Zone 2.
In short, I'd forgotten it's a real city with real people. The colourfully painted terraces in Kemp Town share postcodes with housing estates. There are immigrants, EDL members, aging hippies, goths, skinheads and alleys with graff and broken glass. It's flanked by rolling hills and filled with a population growing more diverse by the day.
What reminded me? I came across the pics of local boy Warren Sebastian, a 32-year-old whose work documents the fringes that make Brighton a truly English city. Brighton tends to be sold on postcards and the blurbs under AirBnB ads, but there's humanity and truth in these shots.
Thanks Warren, keep up the good work. Be sure to check out his tumblr and his Flickr.