BRIGHTON interiors Nagging STYLE WIDT


I have had several bowls of coco pops today. I was actually really dwelling on how I am now one of those people that consumes cereals more than once a day. I’m a poor sim. (Nono, this is the second or third day I’ve been eating cereals. I’m in it for the chocolate milk. My budget doesn’t permit chocolate milk. My guilt function makes it really difficult to buy things that I need to recycle because I hate to wash the packaging so I leave it sitting in the sink and end up binning it anyway.)

My Tescos shop is coming in on Tuesday, I think. I’ll have to snoop around for a pound or two for some extra milk.


I am waiting for paint and glue to dry. My artists studio? um flat? has gotten twenty times cuter. I am pretending to be riche with a £12 William Morris-ish wallpaper I bought from Wilkos by pasting it into the cupboard. It has changed the vibe of my flat from at least one angle.

I bought that trunk for about ten pounds and I’ve been doing little things to it. The lady in the shop said it was from the Victorian Era (she might’ve said inspired by or something to that effect) but I don’t know that they had turquoise dyes back then. It’s unimportant because I love it.


Here is me donning some shorts I dyed purple when I was living at Bernie’s.



I’m going to be very tacky and announce I’ve relocated to a wonderful studio flat in Brighton in the form of a shopping list. I’m playing around with the idea of authoring a book on interior design.


Tile Trivet, Picasso’s Ceramics Cafe, Painted by me


Tulips (Sainsburys, Brighton) sitting in a bottle of Maple Syrup with hand painted gold handle.

If you want to test the tap water of a new home, buy some flowers. See how they react to it.



Eulogia Coffee Table – (Online) Urban Outfitters, Mint Trunk – Habitat in Brighton, Slate Coaster – Amazon, Concrete Vase – Hackney Charity Shop Find, Gold Metallic Paint (Online) Cass Art, Mickey Mouse hand cream – Superdrug, Oil Burner – Amazon, Red Tassel taken from a perfume I received two birthdays ago.


I’m doing the energy-redirecting Botticelli’s Venus pose here, my knees aren’t positioned at different heights. Actually if you saw how I was balancing on a chair you’d appreciate how proud of myself I was for balancing so well.


Bunny Slipper Socks – Tiger, Coat – Jigsaw (Second hand), Striped Knickers – probably from Tescos circa more than ten years ago, Cardigan – Marks & Spencers (Second Hand)


Frisian Cow Milk Jug – Tiger, Brighton, Tulips – Sainsburys, Brighton


Lucky Cat Sponge Holder – Tiger, Brighton, Slate Coaster – Amazon, Jimmy’s Iced Coffee – Sainsburys

I look moody but I’m euphoric. Refer to >> this instagram post. << Secret: I stole this joke from a Horrible Histories book – I think it was one about the Victorians.



The day I arrived, I went out when the shoppes were closing and bumped into Habitat, quite concerned that I wouldn’t find a place to buy things from before closing time. Habitat was open though and had many beautiful items. I bought my new favourite sheets ever. I don’t want to be one of those people that buys a room full of items from one shoppe though, on the same season.


Oh – and I’m being tremendously military-bohemian here.



I spent most of my life in a humble home, I’ve relatives with private jets (though I think they’ve since sold them) whose holiday homes were mansions in the British country side – but that wasn’t the home I was raised in for the most part. I’ve seen barefooted little girls playing in cardboard boxes on the streets – one time a friend said to me “do you have a big house?” and I replied – yes. It was just my mother and I living in it. It’s a two floor, three bedroom house. There was a time my father owned a restaurant in, I think Chelsea? He could afford to keep my sibling in a flat also in Chelsea, having meals from his restaurant delivered to her – and my mother and I were living on £50 a week.

I don’t like it when people shame their parents, I don’t like the idea of teaching children to do that either – but I think it’s appropriate to call them out for their mistreatment. I didn’t run from my family, not that I didn’t want to – and sometimes I think if I had politely made alternative arrangements, asked to live with my Grandmother or one of my aunts – I’d of saved myself a lot of struggle. That said – the struggles that I have overcome, the lessons I’ve learned from living humbly – have made me strong, but most importantly they have made me grateful – able to (not only FIND – but) create beauty with little.

So I have learned to appreciate beauty in little interior moments. And you wouldn’t believe how many people I’ve inspired in doing so, and I am hurt that they’ve never cared enough to reference or credit me as an inspiration – but that is something one learns when they study art. Perhaps the people I inspired never studied art. I hope that is an excuse within their sad arsenal. Earning money with someone else’s ideas is wrong, especially when that person is poorer than you are.


So, I’m something of a design enthusiast. This is the first room I’ve had a proper part in designing. It’s a work in progress and we kind of had to work with the shapes that were already there. I think that’s why I want to live in a squatty kind of building when I buy my first property – so I don’t feel any guilt or hesitation or restriction when it comes to redesigning. I know I like semi-circular arches above EVERYTHING.

When I was little, and we were going to decorate our home – I went to Designer’s Guild with my mother and one of my siblings. I wanted to purchase a navy-blue damask wallpaper, and they felt it was ‘too old’ for me. They selected instead – a blue snake print wallpaper and a pink bunny motif for my border. They also selected dinosaur door knobs. It was actually a huge disappointment for me, because I didn’t really like my room that much. I was such a brat growing up that if I was unhappy with something it affected every aspect of my life.

My adult self would say to my child self that she should have made more of a fuss – that no one has ever relied on either of those women for their ‘good’ taste. If you want an OCD dance teacher’s mind, my mother is amongst the best going – but you have to have the kind of personal strength not to crumble at the merest criticism. If you want to know whats in ‘fashion’ – my sibling might be able to direct you. That is – fashion is transient, it’s an in-the-right-now pursuit.

Style is something it takes years and an eye for detail to develop. That is my avenue. Whether it comes to dance, design, photography and film (I mean – people know when I’ve taken a photograph).


I’ve got a bit of editing to do, then I think I’d like to make a bathroom tour while the light outside is still vibrant enough to film. I like using natural light. I’d like to talk in depth about every single item I’ve used to decorate my bathroom, including my Eulogia table from Urban Outfitters.

Eulogia and Ishtar are a reference to the Skull and Bones fraternity. How Alexander McQueen of me.


This image was taken by @KnightofEulogia and found >> via google, << 
on >> Flickr. <<

Thanks bro. (The Skull and Bones are a naughty fraternity. Fraternities become naughty when they invite wealthy men who don’t understand the divine feminine at all and let them rise up the ranks before they’ve proven themselves. That is how we ended up with the Bush family.)

Rising up the ranks properly gives you more strength because you learn all the appropriate lessons. You should not pay your way to the top – EVER. And you should pick mentors that aren’t abusive, and with whom you can have an honest dialogue – because if shit happens to you and you have no one to talk to – or you’ve done something you NEED to apologise for – you’re entitled to no one’s mercy. That is – people above you will know what you’ve done and not say anything, and probably do the same to you later.

If you want to join that Fraternity I strongly advise you have a clean conscience, that you are nigh on impossible to humiliate or blackmail, that you’ve made your peace with anything terrible you might’ve done in your childhood (it begins with having the capacity for sincerity and honesty) and that you have no weird secrets. Be an open book, be your true self. Value people that are truly loyal to you – because if you lose that loyalty, you probably won’t find it again.

Go in as you mean to go through. If you want to be the best, it’s unlikely you’ll get far. If you believe you have the qualities of a leader, act like one from the start. If you don’t, its not likely you’ll get as far as you’d like to. I learned a lot from coexisting in 77. If you usurp someone who worked for their position above you with money, the same and worse will be done to you when someone with more money comes along.

I mean this is something you research through co-existing, I don’t know what kids could possibly want to join secret societies for unless they had somehow acquired divine knowledge and were driven by a motivation to share it with people that could keep secrets.

This is the annotation offered beneath the image on 
@KnightofEulogia's Flickr.

This shows the obvious link between the cult of Ishtar and the cult 
of Moloch (Owl).

Eulogia is a female goddess of Blessing that was concocted by the 
Skull and Bones in order to hide its roots which are found in a 
ancient babylonian goddess called Ishtar, High-Mother-Goddess. 
Like Inanna, she is the goddess of fertility, love and war. 
Her cult was the most important one in ancient Babylon. 
Ishtar, known under various names, was the most important Goddess of 
the Near-East and Western Asia. The word Eulogia which, in Greek, 
means "to be blessed." They believe this goddess ascended into heaven
 in 322 B.C. (a number that appears in their own logo) upon the death
of Greek orator Demonsthenes and subsequently descended from heaven 
in 1832, landing at Yale University. Also known as Assyrian goddess 
of sexuality, referred to in the Bible as "queen of heaven" 
(Jeremiah 7:18, 44:17, 25). However the name "Ishtar" does not 
actually appear in the Bible, but she does appear under her other 
titles (i.e. Ashteroth).


In, I think, about forty minutes I will fall asleep. My sleeping pattern is so so so kdljfsdfkgjsdfg. It’s fine – by the end of this weekend a load of things I’ve commissioned will become available to me. So exciting. To me. So… I live a lot in Dream Land (asleep or awake) … I’ve kind of walked around taking snaps of stuff. I really like documenting transitional phases, is fun


I have almond oil in my hair. I put it on my legs too because my skin gets dry – it takes awhile to work but it does work and it’s inexpensive. I love a good “beauty” hack. If you want flowey locks you should invest in some kind of natural oil. When I was living with Lisa she told me that I should buy toiletries – creams etc – from shops run by black people (she is black, she can call black people black) and I actually bought this oil from a shop run by a brown person. (Using colour to collectively describe a culture is probably beneath 2018-internet, but I watched a Wendy Williams video where she described “white” people as “pink” and I wasn’t offended. Also I only look “white” / “pink”.) Shut up – this is boring dialogue – this rant is so I-need-to-sleep-I’m-typing-for-the-sake-of-typing-when-I-wake-up-I-will-cringe-wince.


I got a cute duvet cover & pillow case. I’m waiting for a new sheet… This one has residue from some spray-painting stuff I’ve been doing. I don’t really have the best/safest work practices and I wiped a lot of pink spray paint out of my nose. But actually it’s kind of made me think that there should be super-light-tie-dye-ombre-faded-washes of bed clothing. V cinematic. To me.


My room divider is nice. Everyone should have a room divider.
blog9stuff.pngI got a wig of a haircut I had a long time ago. Ugh it reminds me of this girl I was at uni with who literally only ever looked good when she and I were friends. I told her I saw a girl in topshop with short hair and a cute messy-grungey fringe and a top knot bun. She got a bob and I called it “the edwardian monk bob” on twitter when we weren’t talking. She was gossiping about me with people I wouldn’t of given the time of day, one time legit ran crying to our pervert landlord next-door-neighbour about mess our other housemates had left, particularly in the kitchen (around this time I actually wasn’t really eating very much – because I was catatonic because I couldn’t trust anyone – people thought I was paranoid because I was smoking weed – first of all, weed acts as a magnifying glass that enhances your intuition) and second of all – if you grow up around people you can’t trust, you attract people into your life that you also cant trust. It’s a cyclical behaviour and a truth of “human” behaviour that any counsellor will confirm with you. One day I’ll be awarded a complimentary PhD for my services to both psychology & psychiatry. Really.)

When I was super ill – and by ill, I mean freaking out about stuff like my boyfriend cheating on me with most (if not all?) of my friends, being robbed of stuff (five grands worth of Saffron. Pity the guy who created that karma..), being discussed by people – confronting the people who discussed me and being called names, severe anorexia, being so broke that I had no heating, being ditched by everyone that I actually really cared about… Reliving unfortunate childhood memories I had tried to forget over and over. Casually ignoring I’d had about three miscarriages (one time, a hobbit girl stood in the doorway of my kitchen talking with great passion about her super-ultra-deep feelings for about five hundred different guys, while I quietly started heating up/shaking and out of nowhere just started bleeding onto that Ikea Ofelia blanket I had on our red “sofa” and said quietly “oh I’ve just had a miscarriage” – to which she responded “oh” and then continued talking about these boys, while I ran to my room and put a pad on – and then dabbed at the blood with the kitchen sponge . She didn’t ask if I was okay or anything because obviously this chat was incredibly important. Anyway – people call me self absorbed and I thank every fucking star on the Planet (I’m leaving ‘Planet’ there because I typed that automatically, but the intended words were ‘in’ and ‘the Universe‘) that I am because if I wasn’t, I would not have survived. Anyway all of this happened, then later I realised I’m a medium – I channeled Jung and Freud at the same time. Ha.

Not insane or even actually mentally ill – just absorbent of other people’s emotions about both themselves and me, absorbent of their insanity (of which insecurity..) and mental illnesses, like depression. A weird sponge.

That girl also had a lot of things to say about my depression, that is a discussion for a more honest time. I give it about eight months. Actually she’s in my graphic novel. I did a lovely little drawing of her. She may well be the only person I’ve illustrated myself and the likeness is uncanny.

If you look through the divider this is what you see. Fascinating right?

I bought this from Etude. Is nice. Everyone should have one.



The upstairs hallway is being done up. I probably said before.


These doors were installed years ago by one of my dads Arab friends? Contacts? Someone my dad knew. This door. When it comes to interiors my mother is .. uh. She pretends that she had nothing to do with this mess – it’s really, really funny.

A friend of my mother’s called Jessica, who we knew in Dubai (She used to escort distraught foreign women who had come over to the U.A.E to marry ((often abusive, actually)) Arab men – through airports – leaving behind their children.) used to joke that my family were the Simpsons.

I guess it’s true

I digress for a funfact – did you know that the internet started using ‘warm’ colours because of A photographer called Matthew Cooke brought that in. The influence of Aesthetics is so so subtle. He, Lithium Picnic, Kelly Lind and Cherry from SuicideGirls were my favourite photographers – aside from Araki, Arnulf Rainer and also that David Lynch shoe-fetish collection of Louboutins. Y’know Instagram filters? They happened because of people like Lara Jade and even Felice Fawn (Who at 14 had a – dressed – self portrait stolen and used for a pornography. If I were her I’d have loved it)


I get the concept of a “self hating” Jew. If anyone ever wonders – I don’t hate that I’m Arabic. If I did – I assure you I could offer you a huge list of reasons as to why it would be justified – but I actually quite like it. Apart from the like, body hair and stuff. Ive been conditioned to hate that. Like you’ve been conditioned to neg me for it.

Some Persian guy once pointed out something pretty cool about body hair – when someone is around you, the hair on your arms responds to it. He was a piece of shit though. But so was pretty much every guy I hung out with at University, even the white ones with the fanciest british accents. But y’know, men from every culture find some way of abusing women. Perhaps one day some brave woman will write a book about the abuses indigenous to various cultures. I heard Somalians are quite into female genital mutilation and beating women. British boys are into date-rape drugs and also beating women. Vikings are also into date-rape drugs. Indian guys like to harass women from cultures outside of their own, because within their own culture theres always some auntie that knows their mum. I’m more of an other-hating Jew really, I hate everyone

I’d probably really fit in in Israel actually

So uh, amongst the many thoughts/dreams/premonitions/etc that go through my skull when I’m staring – this is how I experience the entrance to my mother’s bathroom. My dad paid someone to do that. My mother let someone leave her house in that state. (The incompletely-painted floor happened years ago – when my mother started painting it… and then her leg snapped in two the day I had a pretty serious surgery.)



I attract contrasting experiences because somewhere deep in my subconscious I absolutely believe I need to – to grow. It’s an unfortunate life-long habit. The details of any particular story are unimportant when you believe in Karmic theory… when you believe humans are inclined to perform cyclically. You can replace individuals in any story with some fictional character that represents their contribution to the narrative.

I don’t like ambiguity, I don’t like details left out, I like to know what’s being discussed. I’m nosey. (Actually I’m not so nosey, more curious: where there is adequate justification. And sometimes there isn’t, sometimes it’s a self defence mechanism – when I’m functioning on a low vibrational frequency. Sometimes it’s jealousy – sometimes it’s concern – sometimes it’s some other emotion I haven’t learnt the word for.)
When I meet a person, if they are special enough to capture my attention – and so seldom is this the case – I like to know how they happened. I am personally attracted to that and those which can convince me – with success – that I have not experienced them before in any shape or form.
I like to understand things/beings – if I perceive them to be special enough I will mentally travel to the ends of the Multiverse in an effort to really understand them. Sometimes I regret this aspect of myself, but I suppose information comes at a price. (Thats really a beauty of retail actually, how you earn a certain amount of money for a certain amount of energy expended determines how you value a price for an item… but when it comes to something like information – which is not material – the notion of the price you may have to pay is quite open to possibility.) And I access more information than anyone else ever has – I assure you – if my intentions are in accordance with the Laws of the Universe.

When one believes (as I do) that the people that come into your life are ‘replacements’ of those you grew up surrounded by, (It’s a concept discussed in counselling therapy but my spiritual education gives the concept a context that better resonates with me) – if your life has made of you, a nature that is bound to character analysis… What childhood experiences are you trying to make sense of by living your life?
In childhood to adolescence to adulthood we essentially become conditioned, we sacrifice our truer natures to adjust – to become acceptable to society – we are forced to succumb to a societal thinking in order to ‘survive’. A quality of human & community and ‘connectivity’ that I am repelled by. I’ve tried being ‘normal’ – I’m not capable of it.

I’m irritated by someone who… people’s chosen guidance systems (such as religion) necessitate that I respect, the hive-mind teaches that this individual is my ‘example’. This individual broke an agreement with me. I’m at a phase of reliving my karma with this person, in a proximity I’ve never before endured. The result of this is the quiet (loud) realisation that they’re a disgusting person. I find them revolting. I can’t find anything compensatory about their difficult qualities – I once got a fortune cookie in a Chinese restaurant in Kent that said a sense of humour makes up for what you’re not… I don’t even find them funny. I find them useless. Expecting of me, something that they’re wrong to.

[I mean.. I’m not trying to give away too much but there’s an excerpt somewhere, in which Germaine Greer confronts the little girl that likes to flirt with her daddy. I’m not, and have never been, that little girl. Actually that became an issue – I spent my life being selectively mute and was thought to be intensely stupid for it.]

I know more than anyone that people demand strange perfection from others – and I am not perfect – but I try my hardest to be imperfect in a way that only really affects me. I have a lot to contribute to others that they’ve never learned to see value in until I was long out of their lives. It sounds stupid to say, but when I studied ballet I was taught that with great skill there must be a sense of effortlessness. This thing/pirouette/leap I’m doing that’s taken intense life-long training? Oh it’s just magic. You have to indicate ‘this is nothing to me’. That is a fundamental aspect of any performative skill. Actually it is something to me. I’m acting like I don’t care, because I know that this person wants to trigger me – I’ve killed any part of myself that cares about my interactions with this person. Consequences, consequences, consequences. The only thing that I value about this person has been revoked and they’re choosing to be deceitful about why. I know why, but they’re playing stupid. So am I.
This is a game I’m good at. If I’m playing against an equal adversary, we both come out nearly dead. Figuratively. The other person is not an equal adversary. They’re the kind of manipulative coward that would hide behind a schoolchild if it would buy them a little time. (But what use is time if you’ve never developed a good use for it?)

I’m thinking of getting one of those ‘sayings’ posters – that a Man is Only as Good as His Word. I could fill everything in, with every specific detail that you could ever want, but I don’t think I need to. I think this is some story you’ve experienced too.

[“As I said before – an eye for an eye. I’m a lot stronger than I look, you know.” – L, Deathnote]


I’ve been reorganising my bedroom and I absolutely adore it… I have an eye for colour… & detail. I’m exploring textures & introducing a new colour palette into my life. There’s beauty in every corner, almost!


I’m currently taking a break from tidying; which has been a real-life tetris game – I’ve been shifting furniture from one side to the other in increments, hoovering the tiny empty space and then dettol-blasting the germs. Any worth-while process – with guaranteed fabulous results – is gradual.


Patience is a virtue and uh. I’m not especially virtuous.


Blogging again (I’ve been on and off blogging and documenting my life for years although I stopped for quite some time..) has proven to be a really important and cathartic means of documenting my adventure in living a life in accord with the Laws of Attraction.



My bedroom is a good size for me – at present. I found a ‘handyman’ on Gumtree for a very reasonable price – who will be helping me dismantle my sister’s left over furniture & assembling my new bed. I’m excited for Monday!

I’ve always been taught that your bedroom is a reflection of your mind – which might be why I felt so out of sorts in my room in Copenhagen. Which was beautiful – but had a strong sense of ‘temporary’ about it. It was a good place to begin a healing process I think.


I’m listening to Death Note on YouTube right now. I’m on episode fourteen. I’m trying to teach myself not to hate Misa, trying to acknowledge some hidden intelligence in her. I’ve always identified as L, who is an interesting contrast to me personally. I would never work with the Police, I find them inherently corrupt. It’s actually depicted in the show itself – L is also corrupt, something indicated by his treatment of Misa – & the police condone it. Iunno, most people are too stupid to read into any narrative so even if I wanted to talk to people about the shows I liked I would probably end up rolling my eyes (I’m infantile like that, it’s a flaw that I *love*)
A friend – a fan of the series – years ago observed that L and I both ‘sit’ the same and have a penchant for sweet things. I’ve been having a savoury phase lately though.


[I’m now on episode fifteen!]

For most people, days pass in 24 hours.

[An ex of mine once told me about how these geniuses would explore with sleeping patterns – instead of sleeping through the night they would take naps every few hours & in doing so I suppose they could experience the energy of the varying times of the day?  The conversation related to productivity, it took place so many years ago now. 
At the time I was recovering from a break up and I’d spent many, many months asleep. I was authoring a fairytale that merged the mythologies of various geographies – I got to 14k words and stopped – and the fairy tale was lost years later. I know I have a better version of it in my mind.]

For me – a day can last for weeks.

I like sleeping late at night and waking up early in the morning. I actually started this to-do list yesterday. I wish the ‘Notes’ section on apple products was true to time.

Screen Shot 2018-03-07 at 18.01.56.png






In the past someone told me that they thought it was a little weird that I liked posting photos of objects/rooms, stuff & minutiae. I LOVE ever-changing environments/interiors. My room is chaotic & I really wanted to share this hella cute colour palette, before everything gets scrapped, repainted, reupholstered, wall papered, the floor ripped out… blahblahblah.

I’ve got some cute ideas for a kids youtube channel in the works & I have to act fast because I’m on a Final Cut Pro trial. I’m not sure it’s the editing software for me but I’m not one for wasting an opportunity to try something new.

menaresluts.pngYesterday I stormed Hobby Craft for faux flowers made of silk, clay & faux gem$… I should’ve made an iPhone diary about it but I was lost-in-the-shopping-zone. I just picked stuff up without checking the prices (I was on a limited budget, and I avoid using my brain for mathematical calculations)… I went over to the till & somehow was pennies short of spending my full budget. It was legit magical.

Speaking of storming… Welcome to the World, Chi West & Stormi Webster. Imagine how much fun all those cousins are going to have growing up with one another!? Kind of like siblings!? I hope we get to see the next generation of rockstar royalty hanging out on the show.

I *really* enjoyed this Wendy Williams video. Wouldn’t it be epic to have your birth announced by Wendy!?

This morning I bought some really awesome things off Amazon.. I think I have a photoshoot this weekend!?!!?!!? If the footage comes out right I’d like to use it for my online store. So fun. Much excite. I’m gonna use my MAGNUM face. You know the one.

I’ve got what I think might be my last appointment ever with my psychiatrist in less than two hours and I’m in a really, really good mood. Today is gonna be a good day. Gotta go have a cigarette, have a military-power-shower, have some kind of morning-inappropriate snack … maybe charge my phone if I can locate the chargey-wire thing.