Heartshaped Glasses - Amazon | Earring - HM 2016 | Dress | 
Tights - BLOCH | Shoes - Public Desire


The best thing about this look is the tights from BLOCH. 
Dancer's tights are better value for your money than any other tights
you'll find on the market. 


They pull you in in all the right places and they can take pressure - 
they don't snag easily.

I do not ascribe to the cheap consumerist culture of buying shitty
pairs of tights and then throwing them out after you've worn them
once or twice.  Invest in decent tights - they last for years.
Learn how to take care of tights too. These are handwash only.

First things first.

Nearly totally wet me’self on what turned out to be like a nigh on one hour walk to the bank IN HEELS. Thanks to the pub that let me use their loo.


I’m really enjoying ponytails and fringes, I did a meditation with the woman who illustrated the Rider Waite Tarot cards. For a limited time only I’ll be doing readings on my site channelling her – as you all know I can. Pamela Colman Smith. The internet is telling everyone she liked to call herself “Pixie” – that is nonsense. If I picked a parent for her in this time and place, I would pick Dre. I actually struggle to believe that she would’ve made ‘nicknames’ public – she died lonely, alone and friendless. As she would have, Tarot cards have given their readers a lot of power and knowledge that has threatened the patriarchy deeply. She was from Brooklyn. She was in various SECRET societies. She valued the vibration in a NAME. “pixie“? Really? No, no thank you. Later I shall upload some photographs of me that I found in an old diary. There’s one where I wear necklaces the way she does. I love the thought of her time travelling to dress me. If it wasn’t for her cards, and Lisa, I might have died.



Here’s a life hack. Remember >>this?<<


I got that to look like that by being a person who decides when she’s gonna pee. And I have had extra large wine bottles shoved up there – much bigger than a baby’s head wine bottles. Ignore the health risks – those are bullshit.

I’m sure I’ll rewrite books on childrearing at some point but if you’re giving birth – smoke weed and masturbate. A lot. Weed is stronger than morphine. I’ve done enough of both  – in serious levels of pain – to know, thank you.

I played dress up in a charity shoppe. I fell in love with this little hairband. I made it look trashy and tacky. Both of those words I comfortably hope to live up to… forever.




When I was younger, I used to go to shoppes with friends and pick out the most hideous dresses to play dress up with in the changing room. I actually quite liked this one and I left it in the changing room hoping that someone with a little more cash to spend than I had would find it and that it would work for them.

I had to change into ballet shoes because the walk from my place to my bank was mad.


I went to @Polpo in Brighton yesterday, beside the theatre.

It’s close to fancier shops (I got to take a look around Kurt Geiger, which was still open when I walked out) and a taxi rank.

The atmosphere was unpretentious, and the food was good – although the staff probably need lessons in manners and good service. I felt uncomfortable when two absolutely lovely mature women came in and the lady at the bar didn’t get the fuck out of the bar to help them find seats, or call over one of her colleagues and that’s probably why I’m starting off what would be an otherwise positive review with negativity. I worked in service in bars, restaurants, cafes and in retail, where I struggled to learn the specific details because I take time to settle in – my strength was in making the people I was serving feel like they were being taken care of and they were a priority. My service is so good I will make you feel comfortable being a snob in Slug and Lettuce. As a child, I associated with family who were diplomats and also Jordanian royalty – a descendent of the Prophet Mohammed to be really snide. My vision of the kind of service that deserves being paid-for came from seeing how they were treated, the hostesses at Emirates (I wouldn’t hostess for anyone else and I have issues with their outdated tattoo policy and questionable residency policies also.) and the spiritual school I went to, which taught that service to others was the only worthy aspiration. If you’re one of those wannabe dominatrixes – you have to be able to do both. If you offer shit service you’re never gonna get good service. If you run a business and you aren’t able to do every single job, you can’t expect a standard from anyone else. I’m actually quite offended by people who think they have any business pretending they’re into BDSM – using other people to build your own poor self esteem, or stalking people ‘out of love’ or anything like that is repulsive. It makes you look stupid later when the person you really, really believe really, really wants you to pursue them ends up being superior to you with far less cash. (Cash that you probably stole off your parents without giving anything back. Or cash from a job your parents probably arranged for you.) (All of it – deeply sad.)

Back to Polpo. As I was authoring this (ofcourse I returned to write later-) I heard the words “it’s owned by a vampire” – on Wendy Williams. I had to rewind the video to hear her say “it’s owned by an empire

I didn’t feel unsafe leaving my tap water and my prosecco unattended at the moodily lit bar (it was very new york filter) and I could leave my shopping bags (£1 shoppe and charity shoppe) on the floor beside the bar.
That’s much more significant than you’d think in the U.K – I recall that Danes could leave their drinks unattended in venues in Denmark but I never really felt comfortable doing that because I was a street kid at heart. Keep your things close, at heart. Which is how most Londoners act actually.

It was a comfortable bar that attracted an elegant slash laidback crowd that treated it like a fancy pub – if you go – look nice but not five star nice. ITS A VIBE

are you jelly gordon

a bit

and I got to read through their recipe book – I wish I could’ve afforded to buy a copy because their desserts were fun – and there was a lot of information that made me feel more confident dialoguing with butchers.


Above I had a Panna Cotta with Tescos mixed berries (which taste 
really good - not a poorly advised purchase nor intended as an insult), 
I had a look at the recipe for the dish in their book and they use a 
lot of vanilla pods - and those aren't cheap. 

It was about £6 for the dessert and if you were looking to go 
somewhere inexpensive for something sweet, I'd recommend it. 

I was genuinely impressed with the level of preparation
that goes into their desserts, actually.

I can comfortably recommend their steak dish, medium rare for me.

As far as critique goes – the meat was well prepared and tasted good. The issue was actually presentation and how it was served – it’s not gourmet dining, and I think the dish should’ve been accompanied by a condiment. I felt rude seasoning it with salt, but it needed something extra.

It was comfortable to eat my meal at the bar, because it was served on a dessert plate. I didn’t feel like I was taking up too much room – even though the bar was active. People weren’t downing their drinks, they were there to converse – and there was no rush or pressure to get people out. I actually felt to stay for longer but I’m on a tight budget right now. If I were trying to plan a date, I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable arranging for a drink, olives and the steak dish as an appetiser to share before moving to the seating area or even going to the theatre. I wasn’t kept waiting after ordering, either.

I know people don’t often go to bars to eat and drink – but you really could at Polpo.

I’m not going to be dishonest here – I wasn’t taken by the olives, people sitting beside me loved theirs – but I’m really particular about olives. I’ll put it down to a preference for the cheap kind *sunglasses emoji* – when they’re preserved in brine, rather than olive oil. Especially when they’ve been left in the jar for long enough that the tastes combine.

I personally think serving olives with a stone is a risk in a bar that puts you at close proximity with people you don’t know. If I were running the restaurant I’d have a choice between the two.

The decor was thoughtful – and fully instagrammable. The music wasn’t trendy, it had pop moments and trumpet moments and it worked with the customers. I enjoyed people watching. For a moment, when I was cutting my olives – as I had seen it done in an episode of Tom and Jerry – I thought I could hear this song.

Is You Is, Or Is You Ain't My Baby as performed by Tom
My sense of humour is all Cool Runnings and Tom and Jerry. And
the nervous breakdowns in Fawlty Towers.

A Youtube Video uploaded by @Doc Henry

Description: Jazz song from cartoon Tom and Jerry (1946) Performed 
by Ira "Buck" Woods

I was thinking of... Craig the barman... 
Obviously I am not Craig the barman's baby but he wishes I was. I know
because I felt embarrassed for him that he couldn't run out to ask
me for my number. You have five seconds to comply and then you are
very much forgotten, Craig the barman.

Craig the barman was a decent flirt who didn’t need to make eye contact, conversate or otherwise intrude on your meal. Every single woman – and man, I believe – at that bar was obsessing over him. Self included. Who taught you that game, Craig. He was only interested in a girl with a bejewelled marie antoinettey afro – I know because same.

I had a small three course meal for £30. If you’re on a paleo diet (ugh) – or a boxer’s diet – you’d enjoy it.

I was going to dye my hair purple but I walked into a hairdresser’s and they offered me a different price to the one on their list. Offer what you’re advertising, if there are errors in your advertising do not offend potential clients by making creative amendments. You come out looking dishonest and if I can’t trust you to offer me the same price on your price list, I’m not trusting you with my amazing hair.

I’ll do my own hair, it’ll look better than the hairdresser that served me – whose hair did not serve as good advertising for her shop. I hope it wasn’t her shop. What a shame though. She seemed to know exactly how much cash I had in my account too. Such a creep.

I went elsewhere to buy anti-frizz serum and dry shampoo.


Before I moved to Denmark I was living with a guy who has… heavy gender confusion. He came from a family that were really hurting. His parents were together but they had a lot of anger at their lives, and anger is often accompanied by a great deal of inner strength.

They had been through refugee camps. That guy/girl I dated had, early on in his/her life, been sexually molested and had seen a corpse. S/he had at one point tried to explore Her/His gender identity and it made her/his father really angry, really nasty. Some people are a product of their generation. Some people are committed to the values they held growing up. Contrasts such as these are a necessary aid in everyone else’s evolution – you want change? Why do you want change? People who disagree with you can help you refine your arguments and beliefs so that perhaps they eventually become infallible – well – only for a little while. There is always more growth, being at the leading edge of a discovery or a direction for growth of any kind is temporary.

My ex and his/her family had a lot of views that I found abhorrent. They were – at first glance – racists, and ‘Trump supporters’. His sisters had had relationships and children to abusive black men, and their opinions reflected this hurt. His mother jokingly called one of her mixed race grandchildren a “monkey” in front of me – I wanted to say something that would’ve gotten me ejected from their company. I chose not to for a reason. I didn’t know it at the time. You have to let kids stick up for themselves – and this little boy said “OI” to his grandmother – and his mother kind of validated his grandmother. People go through shit for a reason – there’s something that they’re being taught. One day that kid will not allow his family to speak about him in that way.

So H&M released this very poorly judged campaign & of course it created a furore – and some part of me truly thinks it could’ve been some wonderful manifestation of that little boy’s. Not the jumper – obviously. But the collective reaction to it. The chance for this to become a topic of discussion in his home. I want him to know how he deserves to react to that nickname. 🙂 🙂 🙂 ❤

Perhaps this was no accident 😉

Screen Shot 2018-01-10 at 15.50.14.png

When I was younger I grew up resenting Arabs and Islam because my mother married into an Arab family when she was extremely young – and the culture was far apart from hers. The also-young matriarchs in my father’s family never really understood my mother or her very-strong personality, and they treated her quite poorly at times, there was a contrast in their natures. My mother never got along with the women in her family and that was a karma she carried through to the next family she attached to. Also – things were really different thirty-odd years ago.
To an extent I inherited her resentments. When I really speak to my mother, I see that she is a very angry child trapped in a woman’s body. Her mentality is stuck somewhere in her childhood and although through time we’ve both grown.. I know that we have to go back.

At some point in her early childhood she raised chicks, that she loved so much – into hens. One day she came home and her chickens had been served to her on a plate. I keep trying to encourage her to get chickens – I think some part of her died when that happened. You can tell that a person is hurting because they manifest really terrible illnesses.

A lot of people I’ve met can be very self righteous about opinions founded in hatred and it’s ultimately because they’re hurting about something. So when you meet a racist – they’re hurting. Their hate is deeper-than-that, but also perhaps something as simple as being mistreated by whatever it is they’re directing their hate towards.

I once got beaten up by about twenty black girls and a few black guys. I got my head stomped on and everything because they thought I was a lesbian. They saw me holding hands with a girl and they approached us in a group and asked me “Are you a lesbian?” and I think I said something to the effect of “bitch I might be” but like, less cool. Everyone heard that I had closed my eyes when I got beaten up. I was reminded of this when a Russian housemate told me he got beaten up and that it was painless because he left his body. At the time it connected that experience. Later I amused myself because I learned that chola gangsters beat each other up to initiate each other. You don’t have to learn this from physical fighting – but debate and disagreement make you strong.

We have things to learn from Trump. Whether we like him, whether we appreciate his history and how he might’ve treated or spoken about women, whether we accept or disregard his value system and his treatment of Mexicans (EGHEM.) or not.

Think of it like this – just try – if you had found out terrible things about your father (leaders are, kind of, parents) (I haven’t met many great parents) – you have a choice. Either you can hate your father (most people do, a little) and you can make fun of him, or you can accept his position and influence in your life and overcome your intrinsic differences for the sake of personal growth. I would tell my ex that if he believes he’s a woman trapped in a man’s body, and if his father’s opinion matters so much (it shouldn’t) then he has to create a serious and vulnerable dialogue. And it might not go well the first time, in which case try again. And again. Every time the right argument will be strengthened. The hateful one weakened.

What can we learn? Trump believed he could win presidency – he did. So we can learn self belief from Trump. That is the most important thing that ANYONE can teach you.

Trump made some shitty comments about grabbing a woman’s pussy. I mean, he’s done a lot of shitty things. He’s HUMAN so OF COURSE he’s done shitty things. But he is your president. So how about you overcome your collective communication issues and find a way to validate his life dream by helping him to perfect it. Educate him on current culture without making fun of his appearance or directing unnecessary and unhelpful nastiness that only makes him want to hurt whoever is hurting him. I personally think a woman talking with sincerity and vulnerability about the affect that comments like that have had on her life is more powerful than an angry-feminist-marketing campaign that ultimately produces no good long-term results. Men feel comfortable taking the piss of feminism but how funny is a picture of a woman in a hijab, half buried in the ground, about to get stones thrown at her until she dies – cos she didn’t love her husband anymore?
My life has been impacted greatly by how men have treated me in my life – anger is a natural response energy to any kind of mistreatment. The best thing you can do with that kind of energy is let it go.
I was pretty traumatically ass raped by a Dr while four nurses held me down when I was an infant. I know someone who was gang raped in a hotel room, after having her drink drugged. She woke up in a room with used condoms all over the floor. She got up and walked out. A man grabbing a woman’s pussy is disgusting and suggests he was brought up poorly but it really isn’t the worst thing a man can be capable of and if you’re an angry feminist, your anger can be better directed. The fact that he was talking about it like that suggests he didn’t know it was wrong. That he might’ve been in the company of people who couldn’t comprehend why it was wrong. Did one person respond “why would you want to grab a woman’s pussy? isn’t it more fun to make her want you to?” or “maybe you shouldn’t ever touch someone without being sure they want you to”.

I think “LOCKER ROOM” culture was a key phrase in that debacle – Trump was a product of a culture built from men who have been rejected by women and never learned how to cope with that. Men who have never been taught how to show respect. Iunno, if you want change, teach them how to show respect with respect. Your life has foundations in childhood. Are you pursuing your dreams in the hopes of being good enough for someone? And then when you get those dreams – how do you cope with still not being good enough for them? World Peace has NOTHING to do with loving others. It has to do with loving YOURSELF. A man who is truly in love with himself doesn’t get validation from taking things that aren’t his, doesn’t get validation from hurting people who don’t give him what he wants.
If you rise to a position where you can force yourself upon another human being – you’re really only degrading yourself by doing so. When a person is so desirable to you that you steal their rights from them, you’re actually elevating them above yourself.

Imagine this thought process – “I have all this, I have become the epitome of financial success & yet I can’t have you? You aren’t that great anyway. Oh, I always get what I want.” …. The person or object of your affections has every right to teach you that their idea of success isn’t measured by you or yours. If you desire someone so much use that energy to become a greater version of yourself. And when you become that version of yourself – you won’t want that person anymore. Because they entered into your experience at that phase of your growth. Be grateful for the motivation they gave you and be prepared to move along.

So – net neutrality. Do you really think Donald Trump wants shitty internet? DO YOU? Just when he’s gotten so great at tweeting? I think he’s giving people an opportunity to learn to stick up for themselves PROPERLY. I think people have manifested a leader who will give them enough self belief that they can change things. America you have manifested a business man – an accessible corporate representative who may well teach you how to engage with the government. Who may well even make you realise you don’t want one anymore.

The Obama family were great to me but I think there is a difficulty in being drawn to love a presidential family, it’s a lot harder to grow when you’re in good company.
Shut up, let me finish.

It’s really easy to love the cute, well-behaved, obedient kid that’s mastered misbehaving in secret – isn’t it? Much harder to love the less cute, obnoxious one that somehow has mastered getting his way. If you’re ‘spiritual’ – you learn how to love both. Easy for me, because when I love I feel comfortable being mean.

And this is one of the issues I have with ~~spiritual people. I don’t believe they’re as spiritually grown as they think they are – based on how they treat me. I don’t look or act how they imagine a spiritual person should.
I don’t like hugging trees, I don’t like wearing elephant print MC Hammer pants or head bands, I don’t like sitting cross legged to meditate (actually I’ve kind of created my own form of meditation – learning to empty your mind is like, phase 2 of the entire practice and inner peace is not interesting to me – the pursuit of it, I find, pushes a lot of non-physically powerful people away from the practice), I don’t believe you are ‘cleansing’ an aura that you can’t see, I don’t like yoga, I don’t think fucking everyone is an expression of love at ALL, I don’t want to go skinny dipping, I don’t want to sit in drumming circles, etc etc. But I have mastered Spirit. I am a kind of Spiritual Mr Miyagi and it bothers me that it bothers you so much that you think it’s okay to mistreat me.

I have a lot of respect for teachers and people that know things I don’t. I sat with a spiritual Doctor once and I insinuated that I was of her kind – she said “people make all sorts of things up” – I was offended but then realised perhaps her soul was telling me I do ‘make things up’. The things I imagine come true.

Lucifer is called ‘The Lord of Lies’. What is a lie but a hidden truth??

Let me tell you a secret about the Illuminati – the Illuminati exist. The Illuminati are the enlightened ones. They are people who have learned that everything you do has a butterfly effect on the Planet. You don’t have to live a perfect life, you just have to know WHY you’re doing what you’re doing. You might think it is run by the vastly wealthy, or celebrities or even the Rothschilds or whoever – it uh… really, really isn’t. /Mic Drop

Once you learn you are not your body, once you learn your actions have consequence, once you find your inner truth even in the face of those around you refusing to believe it, once you separate yourself from the matrix of soul fragments & develop your spirit – not your soul, once you accept that your dreams are more real than the reality your five senses afford you – you become Illuminati.

It begins with embarrassment. The music you listened to as a kid. The shows you watched. The clothes you wore, or wouldn’t wear because your parents/friends thought you looked stupid. The dreams you had. Did you want to sing in a pop punk/metal band? Well… a part of you died when you let those dreams go.

I uh.. wanted to be a rockstar but only cos I wanted to date rockstars. done that

In the Matrix, the Oracle lies to Neo. She says he’s not the one. That he’s perhaps waiting for something, another life perhaps. The Oracle I lived with told me that she was in a secret society and that she had to walk across flames to join.
She also said – of my dreams – that they wouldn’t come true. She was trying to teach me NOT to listen to teachers, not to change the direction of a dream-course just because someone told me to. At one point during my “mental breakdown” – in front of two friends I made a fire in a big greek ashtray, with pieces of wood that happened to be in my kitchen. I put my hand through the fire and kept it there. These two friends had given me the most difficulty when it came to my spirituality and in the face of proof… They never really told anyone about what they had seen. Anyway. My Oracle said that in my next life I’d be the head of a secret society.

Life cheat: you can reach your next life through ego death. Sometimes ego death is achieved by learning that you ARE good enough exactly as you are. And then when you accept that you wonder… do I still really want whatever nonsense I’ve been wanting? You ask yourself: If I could really have whatever I wanted… why that? Why you?
And you ask the people who reject you – Why are you good enough for me?