I remember when I first moved to London in 2000 – the only two people I knew were my dad and my stepmom –and I'd have given anything to have a social life. It took about a year, a job behind the bar at a really dodgy pub and a concerted effort on my part to turn acquaintances into friends. Even then the number of nights I had free far outweighed the number of nights that I actually had some place to get dressed up or someone to look pretty for.
To cut a long story short, the perseverance paid off, the dodgy pub job become a pretty well paid gig at a pretentious upmarket restaurant and I had an awesome group of multi-cultural cosmopolitan mates. Three of whom were actually bridesmaids at my wedding – Miss Le Tissier (the ridiculously talented art student I shared a studio space with my second year at Slade), Jessica Rabbit (the originally from Stratford-upon-Avon, drama queen a.k.a the ultimate blonde bombshell) and Lorenzo (my favourite Australian who was quite content being a professional waitress and travelling every corner of the globe).
I practically had to be dragged onto the plane at Heathrow in my fifth year as a Londoner when my student visa expired and I simply couldn't get it renewed (I had become very familiar with the phrase 'application denied'). Having shed blood, sweat and tears establishing a life in a foreign country, I had to leave it all behind and head back to Africa – I was rather unimpressed and a little apprehensive about what lay ahead. Would any of my old friends still be around? Would we still have anything in common? Was I going to manage to pass my drivers test? How on earth was I going to adapt to a world without Topshop?!?
Well I did.
One relationship blip on the radar later I fell in love with the boy next door (literally) and married him. I also managed to spend a year playing shopgirl at a commercial art gallery, another year in publishing, a six-month stint as a full time painter (with the odd freelance writing job paying the bills while paint dried) and eventually landed up where I sit typing this. I've even managed to assemble a collection of really wonderful, totally off the wall friends that keep me laughing and understand the importance of wine o clock.
Strangely enough, my first year of playing 'Milly no friends' in London taught me just how important having a tight knit social circle is – and I am always really conscious of not taking it foregranted.
So this post is dedicated to the (on again/ off again/ on again) fox, the ex-pat engineer, the single to mingle lawyer, the high school friend who always makes an effort, the three musketeers and My Love (the boy next door who runs a kick ass bubble bath).
To cut a long story short, the perseverance paid off, the dodgy pub job become a pretty well paid gig at a pretentious upmarket restaurant and I had an awesome group of multi-cultural cosmopolitan mates. Three of whom were actually bridesmaids at my wedding – Miss Le Tissier (the ridiculously talented art student I shared a studio space with my second year at Slade), Jessica Rabbit (the originally from Stratford-upon-Avon, drama queen a.k.a the ultimate blonde bombshell) and Lorenzo (my favourite Australian who was quite content being a professional waitress and travelling every corner of the globe).
I practically had to be dragged onto the plane at Heathrow in my fifth year as a Londoner when my student visa expired and I simply couldn't get it renewed (I had become very familiar with the phrase 'application denied'). Having shed blood, sweat and tears establishing a life in a foreign country, I had to leave it all behind and head back to Africa – I was rather unimpressed and a little apprehensive about what lay ahead. Would any of my old friends still be around? Would we still have anything in common? Was I going to manage to pass my drivers test? How on earth was I going to adapt to a world without Topshop?!?
Well I did.
One relationship blip on the radar later I fell in love with the boy next door (literally) and married him. I also managed to spend a year playing shopgirl at a commercial art gallery, another year in publishing, a six-month stint as a full time painter (with the odd freelance writing job paying the bills while paint dried) and eventually landed up where I sit typing this. I've even managed to assemble a collection of really wonderful, totally off the wall friends that keep me laughing and understand the importance of wine o clock.
Strangely enough, my first year of playing 'Milly no friends' in London taught me just how important having a tight knit social circle is – and I am always really conscious of not taking it foregranted.
So this post is dedicated to the (on again/ off again/ on again) fox, the ex-pat engineer, the single to mingle lawyer, the high school friend who always makes an effort, the three musketeers and My Love (the boy next door who runs a kick ass bubble bath).
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