Orientation

ground rules, apologies and lino prints x

Welcome to what I can only hope will eventually form the basis for my autobiography/poetry anthology/coffee-table-book-about-interior-design. I feel like starting a hybrid blog-newsletter is the 23-year-old humanities girl version of starting a football podcast. So, it was just an inevitability and you can’t really blame me for this, or anything else I’ve ever done or will do. 

Firstly, I want to say thank you for being here- wherever here is. I think ‘here’ must be in Brixton or Hackney as that is where everything is. I can and will assume you are here for one of these five reasons: 

1. You are a girl from my secondary school and/or first year of university who wants to see if I’m actually as successful as my instagram says I am and, because I refuse to get LinkedIn as a matter of principle, you have resorted to my little blog to keep tabs. 

2. You are one of my five actual comedy fans (all of whom I know by first, middle and last name and love very dearly).  

3. You are a friend who I have roped into consuming all of my content forever and ever, you’re welcome x

4. You are one of my parents’ friends. Hi Paul! Most of my dad’s friends are called Paul. Having parents who are proud of you is lovely for life but terrible for coolness and clout. 

5. You have stalked me here, which I totally respect for you and would 100% definitely do if I was in your position. 

Secondly, as my first of what should be monthly posts, I thought I’d lay out some ground rules, because I am a goodie-two-shoes at heart and I thrive on order within disorder: 

1. From now on there will be no more than one numbered list in my blog.

2. I will include at least one mediocre poem that I’ve written (which I think is more for my benefit than it is for yours, and may occasionally appear contrived, cringe, or cliché; I am sorry but also, as we already established, I am not responsible nor blameworthy for anything).

3. Other than this first rambling one, my posts will be like Hilary Duff: short and sweet but also irrelevant to your life. For reference, she is 5’2 and currently starring in ‘How I Met your Father’, which is a feminist retelling of Ted Mosby’s ‘How I Met your Mother’. 

4. I will try to include any art that I have made, the word art being used very generously. 

5. I will occasionally plug my solo shows or my precious baby of a compilation show - Material Girls. Sorry, but self-promo is truly all I have in this life and is 90% of the reason why I have started a blog and/or do anything.

Now after only two apologies so far, let’s proceed!

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Martha: I imagine she still wears those tattoo rubber chokers from Claires and definitely had a crush on the hot one from ‘Smosh’.

My first ever lino print. It is loosely inspired by the artist Sylvian Mendy, whom I know nothing about other than the fact that they are French, which should already be obvious from the horizontal stripes.

The subject of the print is based on no one in particular. When my parents saw it they both asked, ‘Who is that? How do you know her? Is that Jessie J?’ which is also exactly what they ask whenever they see me like a photo of someone on Instagram. 

The Lovely Chris

This is one of my favourite life drawings I did at uni, of one of my favourite life models. I like that it could almost be made into a print if I was more patient and better at lino printing.

One Shrove Tuesday, the model Chris brought in a heavy-duty frying pan and did a 15-minute pose holding it out extended, like superman would if he was doing a fry-up. It took 9 whole minutes before her arm started shaking and yet, she persisted for the entirety of the pose - even though no one had asked her to do it in the first place. I found it endearing. In part, because I think that is the attitude I tend to bring to things too. Earnest persistence and quite obvious struggle in the face of, what others may deem, pointless challenges. Like comedy or blog writing for instance.

A poem I wrote after watching the opening act for ‘The Bug Club’ in Kendal, in October. Unfortunately, I was not able to concentrate on their take on the post-punk genre because the lead guitarist wore a thick vintage woollen jumper, paired with very short athletic shorts.

23

I thought by this age I would finally have the self-restraint
To not stare at the knees of men who choose to wear shorts
And a North Face puffer jacket in deep winter,
Or I’d have the wisdom to stop calling myself a people pleaser,
How dare I assume that I am pleasing anyone?
Or the foresight to start using retinol,
And to stop expressing emotions on my face 
Lest the little wrinkle on the upper left quartile of my forehead 
becomes permanent. 

Sometimes, I think that if I am a main character,
Then I was surely written by a man,
Who is wearing jorts and Onitsuka Tigers in mid-December. 

A poem I wrote on the crowded train home from Cambridge that I think captured the slightly manic frame of mind that one has on a crowded train home on a Sunday in the beginning of January.

Resolutions

The girl opposite me on the train has her MacBook 
perched on her knee, 
wobbling,
for a 40 minute journey, 
has anything ever been that urgent? 
my new gym charges you for every class you miss,
and for every class you attend,
I've finished two books so far,
and I keep applying for things I'm unqualified for,
that girl must not be one of the people I've emailed
about unpaid work experience opportunities,
so I can continue missing my gym classes.
I started both of those books in November.

Thank you for reading (or at the very least, skimming) my first blog post. There will be more where that came from, for better or worse.