I dream of Rio... HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! x

December has been a tipsy whirlwind of work, Christmas parties, packing, new tattoos, and eating. I don't know why it is, but the only film shoots I do outside always happen in December. In the freezing cold. For several days. However, all was forgiven by the Ad Agency coming over from India with bags of bindi's. Nothing of course to do with the 'moodboard' of bindi's I sent over to them prior to there arrival. Probably my hardest work on the shoot if I do say so myself. (that can also be firmly backed up by the Producer...)



Christmas has been and gone and I rolled like a pig in a blanket (well, fur coat) back to London after leaving a note in my mothers fridge to apologize for eating all the chocolates. And taking all the cheese. I got myself some red Lana Del Rey-esque talons done before Christmas, so unfortunately I was put out of action on the sprout peeling this year for Christmas dinner. Shame. It appears all one can do with these nails is drink Prosecco? But in all seriousness, glamorous whilst they are, highly impractical they also are. The first night I realized I had to remove my contact lenses with them, it was touch and go as to whether I might have an eyeball left. No wonder only footballers wives don them on, or people with 20/20 vision.



This was the first year I have been back home for Christmas since 2008. My families happiness at my presence was only slightly tarnished by the realization that late on Christmas Eve I had rolled in drunk, and managed to consume ALL the smoked salmon meant for Christmas breakfast. Not ideal, even less so when ones hopeless cooking skills mean your unable to whip up a good egg dish to substitute. I had also managed to drunkenly destroy a contact lens (damn you lovely nails) so my comeuppance was spending Christmas feeling terribly off-balance from a one-seeing eye. (well that and the Prosecco.)



2014's been an incredible roller-coaster of a year. I've pushed my own boundaries, had some rock bottom moments, and had some of my happiest moments. Right now as I stand on the brink of this New Year I'm happier and more self-assured then I have ever been with myself, and where I'm headed in life. Growing up, and learning who you are and what you want is something that takes time. I'm off to Brazil for two months on my own, because I never want to dream something and not do it. Following that, I plan to live in Ibiza for the summer, and then India and Sri Lanka for the winter. With a little bit of lovely London in-between of course. My carbon footprint in 2015 is going to be well and truly trod.



Obviously I'm embarking on this Brazilian New Year trip in the way I do best - like an idiot. To start things off, yesterday I lost my bankcard. With all my money on. And no way to get another one in time. Did I mention I'm flying tonight?

Secondly, I casually look at my flight ticket this morning to see what airport I'm going from, to realize I am not landing in Sao Paulo on New Years day like I thought, but I actually arrive at six o'clock on New Years Eve. I mean seriously - who books flights, and doesn't even check when they arrive in the country until the day before?! Cue major freakout. I'M GOING TO BE IN SAO PAULO FOR NYE! This is going one of two ways - disastrous, or amazing. Or maybe both. Probably both...



I'm picking up my Rio Carnival costume for the parade in Rio. For those of you who haven't seen the pictures - it's huge and looks to weigh about the same amount as me. I'm probably (definitely) going to fall. But I have a go-pro (thank you dad!) and I have a headstrap for the camera - so at least my fall can be caught in all its glory in the Sambadrome! Apart from those plans, I'm pretty, well, unplanned. I know I want to be on a beach, and I've got my malaria tablets for the Amazon (check out that for organization!) so I'll be heading there too. I've packed my glittery hotpants, and a glittery waistcoat, and will probably break all the Amazon fashion rules by wearing them both on a trek. At the same time. 



It's exciting, its exhilarating, and I can't wait to share all the stories and pictures! 

I'm off to the airport now, so I wish everyone a very Happy New Year! And as to 2015... bring it on! 



Emily x

Photo by Paul J. Beard

Los Angeles to London. With love (and extra baggage...)

So here I am at LAX, awaiting my flight.

I'm too excited to make London my base again. I fell in love with the city last summer, and I'm sure that feeling will continue this year. It's about time I began to root myself, stop always flying away and have a base (for a time). I'm sure the fact that I know I'm coming home to warmer weather then I left is prompting this thought, but hell, I feel like being more settled. And what can settle one more then the pitter-patter of tiny feet? No, not a baby I hear you gasp...but a sausage dog? Ive wanted one for far too long now. Maybe the time is finally right? I'm sick of pretending to walk 'Frankie' down the street when no-ones around, maybe I just need to man up and walk a REAL one. Although 'Frankie' is very good with commands!

But that's a by-thought, really whats occupying my mind is two things. Number one; quite how expensive and inaccessible is froyo going to be back in the UK, and number two; quite how much money do I need to open my own froyo palace in East London?

I've got far too much stuff. I'm currently wearing five layers underneath a fur coat, and I've got Reece's Buttercups tucked into my shoes. The metal detector is going to have a whale of a time when I go through, and the Reece's are already starting to melt from the heat radiating off my highly layered body. This is going to be one very messy arrival at London Heathrow. I do this every time and never learn. Next time I'm going to need a man to help with this, or at least have enough left on my credit card to buy extra baggage allowance. I'm now starting to panic that I gave my boyfriend the right flight arrival details, as if not I'll be paying people in squashed Reece's Buttercups to help me lug it all onto the tube. Oh who am I kidding, I'll have eaten them all on the flight.

I give my tan three weeks until I'm back to applying to several layers of Garnier sun-shimmer. And I've given my social life two weeks where I can loftily say 'Oh this tan? It's just from living in Los Angeles the last three months dah-ling'. And then it will be over. And people will be coming back from Ibiza more bronzed, and I'll be fuming as I spent all my would-be Ibiza funds on drinking Slurpee's out here.

But I've had the best time, met some amazing people (although not Ryan Gosling), and happily ticked off one of my life's ambitions. I couldn't be prouder of myself for just doing it, and couldn't stress more the belief that if there's something you want to do, well you should just do it (as long as its like socially acceptable ya know). 

Oh and Dad, I'm onto Tattoo no.7. I'm sorry, but it had to be done. I now bear an angel wing behind my right ear as a dedication to my time in the City of Angels. I hope it looks good, as I can't see behind my ear, and I went to the tattoo shop on my own. Hold up - he's blatantly inked a penis behind my ear hasn't he?! I knew I shouldn't have made that joke about his beard...

Los Angeles you've been the best, but London, your going to be even better.

Emily x

California Soul...

It's been a long time coming, but here is it, my first blog from sunny California.

I touched down just over a month ago, raring and ready to start this adventure to immediately be put to at an abrupt halt in New York airport. Due to bad snow conditions the airport was at a standstill, and my connecting flight to the sunshine of L.A looked like a distant dream. Told I could not get a seat on another flight for three days, and with no hotels available I received my meal tickets, made friends with the caretaker, and took up residency on the airport floor. New Yorkers are notoriously rude, and the ones I encountered were no different. Apart from one. A young woman at the flight desk offered me her spare room to use after she finished her second job at the hospital that night. I was touched by a strangers kindness. (Obviously I didn't take her up on the offer....she could have been an axe-murderer for all I knew), but it warmed my heart in a somewhat chilly airport.

After sobbing to flight desks and sobbing to my boyfriend back in London (o2 phone-bill LOVED that one!) I finally managed to get a standby seat on a flight a day later. Heavy heart lifted, I arrived in L.A, got to my hostel....and then it sank again.

I was on Hollywood Blvd. At night. Now if you guys have ever been to Hollywood, you will know it ain't like the movies! It's not a good place to be at night, and the colorful mix of crackheads and prostitutes make it even the more uninviting.

I kicked myself into action (after all I was not going to leave the sunshine for cold back home quite so easily) and I quickly found myself a place to live. With a heated pool, jacuzzi, gym and my own balcony I finally started to feel like I was in L.A. And the best bit about it all? The woman I live with. 'Moma' Linda is like my black American mom. She listens loudly to Aretha Franklin, cooks the best homemade burgers, gives me donuts for breakfast, and when I get a job says things like 'Baby Gurl I am so proud of you!'.

And I have been working hard. On my tan. Bearing in mind the last time I was properly in the sunshine was one whole year ago when I was living in Australia, this has been a welcome break. L.A has peak tanning from 12 - 2pm so regardless of wherever I am, I try to get out at this point and expose any flesh I can to the sunlight. Envision baby turtles scuttling to the sea to survive...well that's me at midday running into the last patch of sunlight on pavement. The Californians think I'm stark raving mad... "it's the winter dude?!" but they just don't understand what its like for us sun-deprived Brits. 

But apart from the tanning I quite seriously have been working too. On a few American Film Institute short films, a 'tinder' documentary (which co-incidentally is filming back in London in March... if anyone wants to be on it hit me up!), and had several exciting meetings with Production Houses out here. I have also been working with some lovely L.A photographers on several fashion shoots (pictures soon to be on the blog!)

One thing which has come to me as a huge eyeopener is the large gulf between the rich and the poor in America. Due to my fear of driving on the right hand side of the road, I've been exposed to it more then most whilst taking the public transport. And let me tell you, taking public transport out here can be a rather scary experience. Unlike in London where everyone and anyone uses the tube, out here only crazies, drug-dealers and Mexican cleaners seem to be on the bus. And that is no exaggeration. The bus drivers are like the toughest people I've ever seen (especially the ones with the Hollywood and Downtown LA routes), and they have to be.

When I'm not getting harassed at the bus-stop for cigarettes, or trying to ward off the weed fumes coming from the gangs hanging around, I witnessed a rapping man the other day. He just would not stop rapping. To no-one and everyone. I couldn't figure out if I was impressed or scared (a little of both I think) but all I kept thinking in my head is 'this is so #america right now Emily'. Yes, I hash-tagged in my own head. I kind of wanted to look, but I didn't want to be drawn into like a bus rap-battle as I didn't need to show him up with my own rapping skillz. (I see my friends rolling there eyes here...oh god is white middle-class Emily drunk and trying to rap again?)...moving on anyway....

Macklemore was not lying, I've been popping tags in the thrift shops out here! They are awesome, and before my time is up I plan on dedicating a post to the best thrifty's here in this big ol' city. And there is a lot of them. You can tell a good one by the smell of bad breath... the worse the smell, the better the bargains.

It's taken its damn time and a lot of frozen yogurt, but L.A living has seriously won me round. The sunshine each day is just so uplifting, as is the positive attitude of most of the people out here. The TV is trash, there's a Starbucks on every corner, and there are free refills on giant size sodas. Everywhere. I also have come across quite possibly my new favorite food. I use the term 'food' rather loosely here (I could eat a plate of it) but I'm sure most other people would see it as a *ahem* dressing. Ladies and gents I present, RANCH DIP. Creamy, garlicky and oh so good (bad), I will be filling my suitcase home with bottles. To every other American its just 'raaaanch man', but to me...well its been an eye-opener let me tell you. On what us Europeans are missing out on! (friends you will be re-educated back home).

My hair has gone darker yet again due to the hair-dyes 'ash brown' color coming out jet-black, and due to me using a permanent dye, well there isn't really much I can do about it. But now I'm tanning the color of what I'd describe as 'stained wood' I figure looking more Mexican can only aid me on my frequent bus rides out here. So really, the positives outweigh my hair faux pas (although my forehead still has a black-stain a week on...)

I guess I'm kind of on a sabbatical out here, and I tell you what....I thoroughly recommend it. Book that ticket, and get on that plane. Life is just too short. You have a dream, chase it. It's that simple. Or at least it was to me.

And I don't regret it yet...
Emily x

Graduating, tanning and dreaming...

So here I am, 26 years old and finally a graduate. Never one to win a race, predictably I did it 5 years later then my parents wanted. And predictably the weather was a heatwave, the Graduation Hall had no air-con, and I was sliding around inside my gown. Which was about 3 sizes too long and permanently falling off my shoulders. Cue me asking any random I could to "pin me in". But the sun was shining, the parents were happy(ish), and I even got my own shout-out due to my course no longer even being a degree (yes Leeds realised it was a hopeless course mmm about mid-way through me being on it). Nothing like good money wasted! I also got asked by several students 'what the job market looked like'. Whilst it made me feel rather self-important, I also felt I was looking the closer age of 30 and settled this unease with a few Peach Bellini's in the Union afterwards. De-light-ful #newfavouritedrink (yes i hash-tagged!). And whilst my mum got drunk and threw scathing remarks at my divorced father over the Union table I still couldn't help but think all in all it had been rather a successful day.

Back to London and a few days later I went for a highly anticipated high-tea at The Savoy with my godmother. And I have two words for you. STALE SANDWICHES. I may be from the North, but a high-class hotel can't fool me, I know if my breads been out in the sun a bit too long. And my finely cut sarnies were slightly tough around the edges. But the cakes were tasty, and no eyebrows were raised when I substituted my choice of tea for a coca-cola. But still, should have gone The Ritz...

The weather in London is currently amazing, and this long long heatwave makes me feel great about the fact that I can't afford to go on holiday this year. Being a freelancer I'm working on a rewarding project at the moment called tanning. Its currently looking good.

Apart from graduating, eating stale-ish sandwiches at The Savoy and re-hydrating this heatwave with Pimm's, I've been having some wholly sunny thoughts about the future. Sunny thoughts which involve moving to LA in January and working there for a few months. Just to ward off the cold winter blues in London, and to split up Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes (joke!) (well...kinda). I've always wanted to be one of these people who work in LA for a few months of the year, and then London the rest so I've decided I'm just going to do it! Flight is getting booked the minute my bank account starts to resemble the plus side.

Hope everyone in the UK is enjoying this glorious weather!

Emily x