LIFE UNSTYLED

One for my clients, one for me, one for my clients… Last weekend I was at the Big Tesco, ostensibly to buy the jumbo box of cat food that his royal catness Kimchi prefers. But also because it reminds me of my mum. During the last six months of her life when she lived with me, going to the Big Tesco was an outing. I’d push her in a wheelchair, a basket balancing precariously on her lap, swerving suddenly to follow the direction of her pointing finger.

Article voiceover 0:00 -14:53 Audio playback is not supported on your browser. Please upgrade. Sorry I’ve been MIA but I’ve been busy sanding every piece of furniture I own, caring for my vast nursery of seedlings and listing a bag of clothes destined for the charity shop onto Vinted, because if one more person tells me how great it is, I’m going to scream. More on that later.

Audio playback is not supported on your browser. Please upgrade. One of the most frequently asked questions I’ve received over the years is around how to mix styles, colours and patterns in interiors.

My student digs photographed by Jules Rogers for The Sunday Times Once I’d stopped laughing at this comment on my (brand new and almost instantly successful, thank you very much) YouTube channel, I thought “they’re not wrong”. I wasn’t insulted, even if the intention had been to criticise, which of course it had been. When I was away at university and even before that when I was living at home, *my student days rooms were at their most free and creative and expressive.

Madonna’s recent love letter to my hometown came as a huge surprise. My lifelong musical icon professing her love for little old Margate, the place I now call home and also lived in during my peak Madonna listening era (age of 10-17) is something to behold. Even more surprised by Madonna’s affection for our arty little town, I imagine, were the owners of what Madonna calls her favourite Italian restaurant.

I was excited for the train ride from Margate to London. I had plans to see old friends from LA and later, my lovely (and fabulous) auntie. But I was also happily anticipating the train ride itself, having decided I’d use the time to write down my intentions for the year ahead and had packed one of my many notebooks (a notebook for every occasion!) With only a few days until 2026, I was keen to get a clear vision for what I wanted to achieve, like I do every year.

This piece has been brewing for months. Festering might be a more accurate adjective to describe how my amusement turned to dismay, then irritation, finally landing at mild rage with each visit to the high street where I spotted yet another object adorned with a bow motif. Remember the pineapple fad in interiors a few years back? Gold pineapples were showing up in every shop from Liberty to Urban Outfitters to Primark and every home from Margate to Minnesota to Milan (Or maybe not.

A huge part of my job revolves around shopping.

Like a podcaster who records an intro after they’ve interviewed someone for an episode, I’m writing this introduction with a point of view that only formed after writing the piece below. Ostensibly this post is about the feeling I’ve had of not being creative anymore, of not having ideas, or more accurately not having my NEXT BIG IDEA that will lead to my NEXT BIG SUCCESS.

Last week I stayed at a hotel in East London because of a very early call time for a photo shoot in a nearby studio. Mama Shelter in Shoreditch is eclectic to say the least.