In my first year of university, I was (like most people) a bit of a poser. Still am.
One evening in Spring, I’d just bought a super-fake Chanel short suit from Zara - and I was so proud I went to sit in the British Film Institute Southbank lobby to get noticed. And noticed I…
Looking back, perhaps I shouldn’t have met the parents of my (now ex-) boyfriend of a month-and-a-half that early into ‘officialdom’. We had met through a pretentious university society, and I didn’t actually have anything in common with him. But he was supposed to be my first ‘proper relationship’, and I thought being introduced to…
my worst nude
I was determined not to go out every Wednesday during my third year of university. I should have been aiming for the highest grade I could possibly get, not getting home at 3am with doner kebab leaking in my bag. But lo and behold, there were only two Wednesday nights throughout the year that I…
It’s an unnecessarily cold Saturday evening in March 2021 and I’m sitting on a bench on London’s Southbank. The condensation from my Sainsbury’s G&T can is dripping down my already freezing fingers while my Hinge date describes how he’s currently learning Spanish on Duolingo. It’s just like every other lockdown date I’ve been on for…
When someone asks me my worst period horror story, I think ‘sure, which one do you want to hear?’ Maybe the time I bled out so much I needed a blood transfusion, or the day I leaked all over my grandma’s staircase, making her house look like a crime scene. While these are honourable mentions,…
It’s 2018, I had just moved away from home for university and it’s the fresher’s week finale. At the ripe old age of 18, I was yet to have my first kiss. Determined to finally leave my teacher’s pet, no-boys-allowed persona behind, I decided that tonight would be the night to finally kiss a boy. …