There is a house in Brixton that has changed my life.

Walking by, you probably wouldn’t notice this end Victorian town house, with its racing red door and half a garden. But once inside, all bad moods, tears and worries quickly vanish. Welcome inside the home of my best friend, the way I see it.

Think A Clockwork Orange meets Hipster Chic.

Each room is literally a feast to the eyes. Retro textiles and a strong bold colour scheme,  meet sequin cushions and a cheeky giant disco ball.

The art adorning the living room walls shouldn’t work, but it does.
On a wall of its own, an acrylic  family portrait  looks over at a sea of modern and contemporary pieces, photos, posters, street art, film art, a bear in a suit. Yes, it all works.

A floor to ceiling window dominates the bedroom, bringing it to life and allowing the
morning sun to illuminate a colour palette of teals and turquoises, of pinks and purples.

A set of spray painted neon and gold chest of drawers sit proudly below a wall montage of photographs. A sea of personal moments, captured and stylishly displayed as a reminder of how happy a single girl can be.

And that’s the thing my best friend does so perfectly. She shares who she is, so effortlessly and comfortably with those who take the time to notice. She modestly hangs her life on the walls, not afraid to say ‘ this is who I am, and this is what I love’.
Every detail has been wonderfully thought out. Every colour carefully choosen. Every object perfectly placed.
This home is stylish and charming. Imaginative and brave.

Every bit its owner.

On a personal note -

The past 6 months have seen a lot of change for the little Brixton Flat. But ultimately  it has become a solid nest, a real home, for a few little birds that needed security, inspiration and love.

In return, we have created the most incredible and occasionally ridiculous memories in this place, that I hope won’t end here.

So thank you to my best friend, and to Flat B,  for inspiring me every day.

I have 6 of the smallest tattoos known to man. They are however,  a massive part of me.

My first inking was when I was 17. Positioned on my shoulder, it usually takes other people to point it out for me to remember it’s there. Other than me being a Scorpio, there is no deep and meaningful reason behind my little companion. More of a “look what I did mum! are you mad? are ya?”  (she wasn’t)

What it does remind me of is my college days. A group of inseparable friends studying Art. But mostly spending  the time lazing on the summer grass taking photos and smoking. The days when life was simple and the world was our oyster. It also marks a  moment when I became fiercely independent. I wish I would remember that more often.

I was brought up surrounded by music. As a child I couldn’t get off to sleep unless I could hear my mum playing the piano. I played the violin and piano terribly, but it was something me and mum had in common so I kept it up. Eventually I swapped my music lessons for late nights and teenage hangovers and now my musical talent is limited to chopsticks in C major.

I got my treble clef as a reminder of those days when music was what I loved the most. When me and my Mum would duet the Nutcracker and I would silently sneak off to bed knowing as long as I could hear her music, everything would be OK.

March 2006,  Australia. I think I’d been in Melbourne a week. I was sleep deprived, sun burnt and falling in love, so that’s my excuse for spending my last $80 on the not so original idea of a star that occupies my wrist. Though the smallest, it means the most. I look at it every day, and it is a constant reminder of a time when I was wholeheartedly free. The weeks, months that followed were some of the best of my life. I met a few special people that would change my life and if that’s not the most perfect daily reminder I  don’t know what is.

I decided on this tattoo about 5 minutes before I got it done. I originally wanted the word ‘love’ on the inside of my finger but got talked out of it by the professional (thank God) and the foot location was the only blank space I could think of at such last minute.

What made the moment so perfect and unforgettable was sharing it with my best friend, who had her name also on her foot. It was at a time when I think I believed in love the least, so I wanted  a reminder that it still existed. This was followed by a swift mid morning tequlia to numb the pain and an excellent night out to celebrate. As you do.

“…I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes”

This is the most beautifully written passage I have ever read, that never fails to move me. When I read it out loud, it fills my heart with passion and happiness and all things hopeful. It ends with the most positive word in the English language, ‘the female word’. And where I didn’t intend for it to be quite so big, or so obvious, it  does remind me to say yes more. To not be afraid.

I haven’t actually read the entire book yet. I should probably get on and do that.

My most favourite tattoo of all is only a few months old. A weekend break to Oslo and me and my best friend N had decided on this as we were taking off. Within a few hours of landing we had devoured our savings accounts and had sought out the most terrifying tattoo parlour in Norway.  Beautifully handwritten by N, we both got it written along our ribcage. (which felt barely a scratch but took a life time to complete.)

My biggest fear is forgetting. My memories are what keep me alive and grounded and every few years I will invest in another to remind me of who I am and where I’ve been. And if I ever do forget, I have bits of my story etched right here on my body. And there,  to me, lies the beauty.