Dominique Sisley

Highams park has a secret. The suburb, which lies just above the north-eastern cusp of the North Circular, might seem sleepy and unassuming – there’s a big Tesco, a Screwfix and rows of duplicate detached houses – but it’s actually home to something much more unusual. Here, hidden away on a backstreet, lies Proportion London: an eerie, sprawling warehouse space that’s filled with torsos, disembodied limbs and plastic-wrapped heads. Part mannequin factory, part London institution, Proportion has been an integral part of the capital’s arts and retail industry for nearly a century now, although you wouldn’t think it given its obscure location. Chances are you’ve already seen hundreds – even thousands – of its mannequins just from walking down the high street. The company’s faceless creations are everywhere: frolicking in the windows of chains like Marks & Spencer, Primark and Topshop, as well as in the more lavish displays of Alexander McQueen, Vivienne Westwood and Burberry. Their looming presence isn’t just limited to shop displays. Name any major UK fashion exhibition from the past few years and it’s likely that Proportion was involved in some way (its mannequins have been a key part of V&A shows, from the recently launched ‘Christian Dior: Designer of Dreams’, to 2015’s Alexander McQueen tribute ‘Savage Beauty’ to last year’s Frida Kahlo exhibition, ‘Making Her Self Up’). In the ’80s retailers tended to opt for larger hair ‘Our client base is incredibly diverse,’ says Jade

In 1999, Dr Nooralhaq Nasimi arrived in the UK for the first time. After fleeing a civil war in his homeland of Afghanistan, he’d undertaken a six-month, cross-continental journey with his family to seek refuge. The final stage took nine hours and involved being smuggled into a refrigerated container and sent to Dover. Since then, Nasimi has worked to help other refugees get settled in the UK. In 2001, he launched the Afghanistan and Central Asian Association (ACAA), which provides support for those struggling to adjust to life in the UK. I didn’t know anything about the UK before I arrived. I’d heard that it was very different, and that it had one of the best democracies in the world. But at the time, I was just happy that I had found somewhere I could live without fear of persecution. It’s still incredibly welcoming, but the city has changed a lot. When I came to the UK, it felt a lot more relaxed. Job Centres were just places where you could sign [on] every two weeks. Now, they’re like detention centres – full of security and staff asking questions. For people new to the country it’s a complex process. It’s not how it used to be. When I arrived, I was given yoghurt, tea, coffee and a Snickers bar by the UK Border Agency. It was my first taste of British food. Everyone was so helpful in the first few days: we were really looked after. The first place I lived in London was New Cross. It was the first time I’d seen a society with people from that many different cultures. Peop

Josephine Ocaka came to London aged 15, fleeing war in her homeland of Uganda. Now, she lives in Camberwell, where she’s a regular at her local Parkrun. She got into running by accident. In 2015, she convinced her colleagues to sign up for a local Parkrun, thinking it would be a one-off team-building exercise. Nearly five years on, she rarely misses a session. The five-kilometre event, which takes place every Saturday in more than 22 countries, has introduced her to a new community. I fled the war in Uganda and came to London in 1989. I lost a lot of my family and people I was at school with. A lot of us fled because it was the only way to survive. My auntie was already here and I came with my brother and two sisters. That made it easier to integrate. We lived in Blackheath, which was very diverse. We were near Greenwich Park, so there was loads of space to play and do sports. At the time, all I knew about London was what I’d seen on TV. I only saw glamorous stuff: nice cars, everyone looking stylish. When I arrived in the UK, I was shocked. There were so many different accents! I couldn’t understand cockney at all – I thought it was a totally different language. Before Parkrun, I did not run for anything. I didn’t see the point – I didn’t even run for the bus. But because I’d signed up so many people I worked with, I couldn’t let the other members of my team down. So I had to do it. Running helps me think. I enjoy the freedom of it. I make the best decisions while I’m run

Love your local cinema? You’re not the only one. From the volunteer-run Deptford Cinema to one of the city’s oldest cinemas, The Phoenix, we spoke to long-term staff and diehard regulars to find out what sets London’s most loved cinemas apart. RECOMMENDED: London’s best cinemas

London isn’t short on lovely green spaces, but the city’s parks aren’t the only green havens in town. We meet five Londoners who are making the city a greener place through community gardens and guerrilla gardening. Katy Renwick, business director of gardening social enterprise Urban Growth ‘Our aim is to create (and maintain) beautiful spaces in London, increasing biodiversity. We’ve worked on loads of different projects, from working with the community to grow food across Lambeth housing estates to developing a green space inside Mare Street Market. ‘I grew up in the Kent countryside, so I’m a country girl at heart. Nature helps me regain my sanity in the concrete jungle. Thankfully, younger generations are now getting taught about the outside world, and how valuable it is. Urban Growth is about educating people about this, too: we want people to recognise that being around plants hugely beneficial for our personal wellbeing. It’s about enhancing London and improving the life of everyone in the city. ‘Nature helps me regain my sanity’ ‘I’ve learned a lot since I started working in the environmental world: this year is the first that I’m growing my own veg at home. I’ve got kale coming, tomatoes, peas, beetroot and lettuce (it’s the most incredible feeling picking lettuce from your garden and putting it on your dinner plate). I’ve managed to do it all in one raised planter, which is just a metre by half a metre. It’s so easy to do in a small space, it’s just about starting.

At Nightingale House, things aren’t quite what they seem. From the outside, this Clapham care home looks like a haven of peace and civility. But inside, it’s a different story. On the afternoon I visit, I’m hit by a wave of screams, shouts and laughter as soon as I walk through the front door. The din, I’m told by Nightingale’s head of activities Alistair Addison, is coming from the ‘activity hub’ – a large, bright room decorated with colourful crafts, which is buzzing with children. When I enter the room, it takes a few seconds for me to register the elderly residents sitting quietly among them. ‘We’re holding a bakery session today,’ says Addison, gesturing at a hectic table of children – all between the ages of three and four – as they clumsily try to form dough into a challah shape. They’re being guided by some of the home’s older residents (mostly aged between 80 and 100), who gently correct any mistakes. ‘It’s nice to see people who are so young, and it’s lovely when they come and talk to you.’ For a newcomer like me, it’s a heartwarming scene. But for the staff of Nightingale House, this is just another day. The Jewish care home is on a quest to make this kind of interaction normal, which is why, 18 months ago, it became the first intergenerational facility of its kind in the UK. Now, Nightingale House is home to elderly residents and nursery children by day, with the two groups uniting for a variety of activities – from gardening to arts and crafts. ‘It’s terribly go

1. The opera singer ‘One of the things I like to do when I’m stressed about work is listen to a podcast or use a mindfulness app. I don’t find listening to music helps when I’m stressed, as I guess it’s too close to what I do every day, but I’m able to switch off quite easily by listening to conversations. It’s completely natural to be nervous (or even stressed at times!) before a performance, so one of the last things I do before I walk on stage is focus completely on my breathing and visualise what I’m about to do. (I also love a long soak in a lavender-scented bath – I mean, who doesn’t?!)’ Fflur Wyn 2. The wedding planner ‘When I need to calm down, I take a little time out away from my desk and just focus on breathing in and out deeply ten times to set myself back to zero. Or I’ll make myself a coffee and take my mind off work for ten minutes with some music to recharge my brain. I also love to go to the theatre, walk along the South Bank or play in Green Park with my daughter: those are the things that allow me to relax and enjoy life in this wonderful city.’ Ayshea Donaldson 3. The gas and electrical engineer ‘Working with gas and electric is high risk, so I tend to get tunnel vision when I work. I have to focus really intensely on the job to avoid making potentially deadly mistakes. I take regular breaks, and always have support on hand. Outside of work, I like to hike and camp and get away from anything man-made. I find keeping physically fit is a great way to keep my

In the days before social media, finding your place in the world could be a struggle. Rather than using apps and algorithms to meet like-minded people, community-building required real legwork. It involved slipping in and out of different physical spaces, such as gigs, nightclubs or community centres, in an effort to find others who felt the same way you did. Some of these were more unconventional than others. Communities were carved out in street markets like Camden and Portobello, or in boxy boutiques, such as Granny Takes a Trip and Vivienne Westwood’s Sex – stalwarts that used fashion to unite fans of punk and psychedelia. Cuts hair salon was one of these more unassuming spots. The Soho institution, still bubbling away in a Dean Street basement, has a legacy that belies its blink-and-miss-it location. For nearly 40 years the salon has established itself as a hub of London’s counter-cultural community and a hedonistic home for the capital’s club kids. (In one of its more dramatic moments, one of the stylists was arrested on drugs charges during a haircut.) The client list has boasted some of the most trailblazing names in music, art and fashion – from Boy George and Jean-Paul Gaultier to Goldie and Neneh Cherry – as well as local vicars, McDonald’s workers and homeless people. In 1998, David Bowie was spotted smoking on the salon chairs as he waited for a haircut. Despite this impressive cultural heritage, Cuts is still relatively unknown among most Londoners. But a new do