As we prepare to enter a new decade in 2010, Suit Yourself looks back and asks - What will be remembered about the decade that was the Noughties?

Where to start, where to start…well, right back at the beginning seems as good a place as any; one minute past midnight to be exact, on the first day of our new millennium when the greatly feared Millennium Bug spectacularly failed to rear its ugly head. Never has such a hyped and anticipated issue been such a non-event. The Millennium Bug: memorable simply for its non-existence; an excellent way to kick off the decade!
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Text BRISTOL to 60300 for your chance to win one of the fantastic new Fender Road Worn guitars worth £800 – a killer aged design aesthetic that conjures up the ghosts of past music lives, paired perfectly with the modern functionality, playability and high quality that players know to expect from Fender.
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Unsigned bands win the chance to battle it out at Pilton’s Working Men’s Club to play at Glastonbury 2010.

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Hearken the twelve dongs of New Year! 365 days of degeneracy and the brain rushes to update your life-story, soldering another chapter of botched lifestyle choices onto corroding memory banks. Take a look over your shoulder and praise the obsolete decision making apparatus that oversaw each and every action. Oh me oh my! You’re the inheritor of a boiled-dry pan of fucked-up life beans. What you need, is a clean slate.

Morally bankrupt cretins we are, humans have developed an effective method to evade compacted Bad Karma – and we term them New Year Resolutions! Once a year the Life Fairy tip-toes into whatever club, pub or ditch we’ve washed up into this New Year’s Eve and offers ‘one more chance’ to cleanse our soiled hearts; anything to halt a deluge of tears on the twelfth gong and stop us dwelling on what a waste of space we are.
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Although not Bristolian himself, while you are in the city, you will hear a hell of a lot about Mr. Brunel, the renowned and revolutionary engineer, workaholic and semi-officially the 2nd Greatest Briton! Ever! We popped along to his statue in Temple Quay to pose him a few questions about his favourite city:
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Editor of the divine Suit Yourself Magazine, Matt Whittle BA is a graduate of UWE (You What!!) himself. He escaped from the sleepy hillsides of Devonshire nearly 5 years ago to study…ahem…geography and fell in love with Brizzle! When not checking spelling mistakes, Matt can be found cycling up hills that are far too steep and waving his arms around at gigs that are far too loud.
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Bristol’s favourite TV historian (well, joint favourite with Baldrick) Doctor Adam Hart-Davis is a great lover of Bristol, its theatre and its cycling facilities. Renowned throughout BS1 to BS19 as the presenter of What The Romans Did For Us and Tomorrow’s World, we caught up the blue-blooded, white haired eccentric to ask these three taxing questions on your behalf:

What are three things you love about Bristol?
I love the fact that Bristol is a real city with all the facilities you could want, that it’s small enough to go everywhere by bike and that Bristol is full of fabulous history.
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One of the most exciting new bands coming out of Bristol at the moment, SY catches up with Roxy’s Wardrobe to ask them a few question’s about Bristol!

What are 3 things you love about Bristol?
The nightlife definitely; you can go out on the same night every week and yet have a different type of music each time. The live music scene is so diverse in this city that everyone’s taste is so easily catered for no matter how random. We love Pizza Palace next to the Hippodrome on a Friday night after Ramshackle or Reflex; gotta be done!
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Looking back, I can now appreciate that university is the essence of liberation. Freed for the first time from any constraints of a family setting, the overprotective school you were chained to for years or the friends you’ve known since you were scamps, you are now free to do whatever you want, as you want, whenever! In this vein, first year becomes all about drink, drugs and sex sex sex. Do not go to lectures, do not write essays and fuck knowing your limits. Go out every night with the aim of getting lucky and if not, getting so hammered you don’t care. Tequila shots with salt and lemon, strawpedos, then down a pint of the original wife-beater, Miss Stella Artois herself. Wander into St Pauls in the bleakest hours of night to buy interesting little plastic bags off shady men with thick Jamaican accents. When your new best mate’s long-term girlfriend comes up to visit, have a crack. Climb on top of buildings/statues/walls/trees/boats/anything, providing there’s a certain risk you might do yourself serious injury should you fall off. Stay up partying until you notice the soul-destroying grey light of dawn out the window. Stay up partying for longer anyway.
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