And they said girls with brown hair can’t wear jeans
London
From Shenzhen I travelled to London to watch my sister run the London Marathon. I decided to make a Union Jack beanie, it felt topical. I made a pattern, but decided I didn’t need it because I’ve seen the Union Jack maybe every day of my life and can do it from memory. Well, my memory apparently sucks and the Union Jack is messed up. If someone wants a stilted Union Jack merino beanie LMK.
While making this beanie, I have been travelling around with my family. Family holidays when everyone is an adult is strange because you seem to just naturally regress into your younger selves which provides a certain discomfort because you feel like your back to childhood and then you come to it and your an adult and need to get a job very soon.
Not having to go into an office for the past three months has been liberating, however, being without an income and seeing my bank account drain has been at times, distressing. I did take to buying scratch cards, I think I won £10 pounds which I reinvested into some snacks and more scratch cards. God it would be good to be a nepo baby.
Watching the elites run in the marathon inspired me to put my name in the ballot for 2027. Watching the regular runners was a reminder of how difficult it actually is to run 42 km. Phoebe did great, it was fun to see her run. I knitted a lot of the beanie at her flat. Sometimes watching Frankie, Nancy and Ruby throw darts, sometimes sitting on the couch, sometimes in the park nearby.
Bristol
I finished the beanie in Bristol, we visited a friend who moved there a year ago. On the way to Bristol I was sandwiched on the train between a stag-do and a tweaker who was eating watermelon and convulsing in ways that looked and sounded like she was having an orgasm. Someone told my sister that Bristol is where dreams come to die. I am not sure about dead dreams but I did like the bridge and the river.
With the cost of living here, I have been eating a lot of meal deals. Some of the mains are actually so dry and flavourless, but the process of picking a main, snack and drink makes me feel like I am seven years old, writing my tuck shop order on a brown paper bag, excited for it to be returned to me with a pie, 3 oreos, and a wild berry juicie inside.
Brunette again
Poland
My hair which is three months grown out needed to be bleached, so I went to a salon in Krakow, Poland and they told me I am one step away from all my hair breaking off, so, I am brunette again and all my hair is cut-off. I miss being blonde but I think I like having my hair more. The first day I went blonde, I went out to a gig in Melbourne and a guy brought me a drink and told me he loved my hair. On my first day back being brunette, my family got dinner without me, such is life.
Writing this has made me feel nostelgic for childhood, friends who move away, Melbourne pub food, an income and my blonde hair. I am posting this from Stansted Airport in London. Today I fly to France to start the Camino, a 800 km Pilgrimage. Hoping to come out with a clearer mind and a thigh gap.
Likes
Ivy Wolk’s subway take
Krakow
Meal deals but also not really
Wearing jeans as a girl with brown hair
Walking long-distances
dislikes
The cost of living in London
Saying goodbye to my family
Not having an income
