7 August 2019
sometimes it helps to put on an outfit that makes you feel good and buy a new moleskine because there’s nothing quite like a fresh, blank moleskine and take the train to one of your favourite coffee shops and ask what’s on pour over and get a free tasting of the batch as well and thank the baristas for the funky filter and stop by your old work to say hello and give your mate a hug and try the newest doughnut and walk over to that new restaurant you’ve been dying to try and then to your surprise—get treated to a complimentary glass of wine and then to a free plate of summer vegetables because “it’s your lucky day” and take multiple photos of your food and enjoy spending £22.50 on a meal that should’ve been over £40 and shake Oli, the waiter’s hand and appreciate the fact that you never treat yourself to a meal like this when you’re on your own.
3 August 2019
It’s a Saturday morning. French Pop music is playing on my Spotify, the window is open to let in a breeze that helps my claustrophobia while living in this tiny 1-bed, top-floor flat. I drink from my cup of tea—milk and two, of course, and open the latest issue of KENNEDY magazine.
I only started reading KENNEDY not that long ago. I stumbled upon it while I was in the Magma Shop in Covent Garden with Brad. I’ve always enjoyed magazines. When I was a kid, I had a whole collection of different issues. It started around 8 years old with Total Girl. After that it was M Magazine, to satisfy my obsession with Disney Channel.
When I got into my teens, I moved on from celebrity tween gossip magazines and started developing an interest in fashion. My brother and Mum came home one day and had bought me an issue of Teen Vogue. I remember how it smelt—there was probably about five different perfume samples inside. I remember loving every single page that was in that issue. I read it over and over again. It was the first magazine that really made me start to think about what I liked and how I wanted to be seen in the world.
Collecting magazines was a hobby of mine. I never realised this until looking back now. There were times when I would know a new issue of a magazine was out and I would make my Mum go to a newsagency to ask for it. I'd be so bummed when she'd tell me they didn't have a certain issue yet.
After years of collecting magazines, the Internet started to change. Blogging became more significant and the online world took over. No longer did I feel the need to buy a physical magazine when I could simply go onto my computer and discover new inspirations and trends online. It was much quicker and easier—and free.
I would go to my favourite bloggers and save every photo I liked, then put them into organised folders on my desktop. Online curation eventually replaced collecting magazines. Some nights when I didn’t have school, I’d be up until 4 AM, Lily Allen’s It’s Not Me, It’s You album playing on repeat, adding photos of Swedish bloggers into my “A/W Style” folder. Then when I discovered Tumblr, I moved on from saving photos and found it even easier to curate through Tumblr.
But it’s been a decade since I slowly started preferring online over physical and somewhere along the way I think I started to get information overload. It probably happened sometime after Instagram became the literal centre of attention. I think I only really noticed this quite recently. I consciously started to—again—think about how I wanted to be seen in the world and this only happened as I started discovering new interests and having new experiences.
The more popular online platforms like Tumblr and Instagram and Pinterest became, the more I felt the need to take conscious breaks from them. Suddenly the Internet became so oversaturated with information and inspiration. I think I reached a point where I didn't even know what I liked anymore. Or if I did, I didn't know where to find it because if I went online, there were just too many options, too many images, too many posts. Nothing was curated, everything felt like a bit of a mess.
In order to deal with all of this, I've been in the process of slowly re-curating my life. It's so easy to get excited about finding new songs and brands and things to do but it's also so easy to get overwhelmed by always needing to know what the new best thing is. Sometimes I feel like always searching for something new can take me away from the things I already know and like about myself.
In my journey of curation, I've also found it easier to go back to choosing physical over digital. I think I become more intentional with what I pay attention to when I'm holding something physical in my hand. I feel more at ease when I can go pick up a new magazine instead of scrolling through a bunch of irrelevant posts on Instagram just to find one piece that catches my eye.
But when it does come to anything digital, I'm being more conscious of who I follow. I'm definitely not against social media, but I do think there's a way to go about it without feeling like you're scrolling just to scroll. All in all, I'm being more aware of how and where I receive information online.
I have a tendency to question myself. Sometimes I can be a little too self-reflective. So curating tends to ease this. It helps me understand myself and helps me be aware of who I am and what I like.
1 August 2019
It’s the start of a new month and I couldn’t be happier to have a fresh start. The past couple months were particularly hard as everything changed around me. I never quite felt like myself and I struggled to find a sense of grounding. But with this new month, the end of eclipse season, and the end of mercury retrograde, (I know, astrology talk and I swear I never blamed my issues on a fucking planet appearing to be moving backwards but not actually moving backwards but I fucking felt it okay!) I finally feel like the energy is slowly shifting for the better. I’m finally letting go of all the things I’d been trying to hold onto so tightly—all the things that so badly wanted me to let go—and I’m letting life take its course.
It’s my final month in London before I head back to Perth and I’ve decided to make the most of it. I’m finally getting around to going to all the places that have been saved in my Google maps and I’m taking more photos and I’m going to the exhibitions and watching the films and reading the books.
These past few months I’ve been learning a lot about who I am and what I value and how I’ve changed since being in a “proper” relationship for the first time. I already knew what it meant to focus all my energy into myself, so this year I learnt what it was like to focus all my energy into a relationship. And now—I’m understanding what it means to have a balance between the two.
As heartbroken as I am to be leaving London and as hard as it was to reach this point of acceptance, I’m excited for what’s to come next. What that will be, I have no idea. But I know that my time in London is done for now, and it’s time to move onto the next chapter. There’s one thing I have right now that not many people get in a place like this—time. So, these last few weeks in London will act as a sort of “experiential love letter” to the city, as I say goodbye (for now) to the place I called home for the past 2 years.
8 July 2019
Tier 5 (Youth Mobility) Visa expired.
I don’t really have much to say … I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on. Everything is happening all at once and I don’t really know what to do. But I listened to this song a few minutes ago and then I listened to it again and I burst into tears and I can’t really put into words why it made me cry so much but I can say that what made me cry was when I heard the words:
drink, drinking in all of the sunshine,
reminding ourselves that there’s no time
to wander around in the cold.
I used to dream of the Extraordinary.
A naively optimistic expectation that offered More than what was Now.
A perpetual state of yearning.
Then I found silence.
Silence in the in-betweens.
In-betweens—where you wonder what's behind the stars, feel the winter cool your nose and repeatedly tell your friends, "I'm so glad we're doing this."
In-betweens—where you find the Extraordinary.
This is what More feels like.
This song will never not make me cry.
It’s the ache in my chest
Right before I rest
And though you’re there
I mourn the emptiness
That’s only inevitable.
I can never get this thing to feel like me.
Maybe it’s because I don’t really know who I am?
Or maybe I do and this is just another case of me questioning myself too much.
Either way, I’m starting again.