Friday, 22 July 2016


Hey kids,

So, if you follow my blog (you should probably get a life, but nevertheless, I'm eternally grateful) you would have noticed that I am that common breed of the "erratic blogger." What was once a dedicated 'How To' blog has turned into a claustrophobic front row seat inside my brain, which is consequently not like the movies at all.

Although I love this blog, I feel like my interests and writing style has developed, and no longer fits neatly inside what I set out to do with this blog. I set out to make people smile, laugh, and perhaps even make them think about the world a bit differently; and I hope I've achieved that to some small extent.

I have decided to delete this blog and move it over to Wordpress, to create a space that is hopefully just as entertaining and informative, but one that is much more "me." I'm inherently lazy, so just know it's a matter of when rather than if. 

Hope to see you at my new place; you're all invited to the housewarming. Bring your own booze, though.

Thanks for the LOLS

Georgia x

Sunday, 10 July 2016

My Parents Taught Me How to Shoot

The people who care about me today shot me down for something I care about

Why are you going?

You’re not going to make a difference

You can make a difference by earning some money

That’s the sensible thing

Sensible- why is it always used as a compliment? Thank you for shutting up, sitting down and closing your eyes to the bloodshed

So I turned my back, and let them fire four shots into my back

My crime was a beautiful, innocent dream of justice and peace

I worked to earn the money, I toiled and I slaved but at the end of the day guilt overcame my exhaustion; because, like an absent father, if I cared, I should be there.

Have you ever been hurt and the place tries to heal a bit, and you just pull the scar off over and over again

My scars bled, and I walked blood through my house, giving it the grand tour of everything I had lost in the fire. I sat down cross legged on my kitchen floor and prayed for the blood to flow to where the memories of blood were being erased from the walls. Raising my hands up above my head, I awoke arching my broken back and begged my parents “don’t shoot.” 

Saturday, 9 July 2016


Yesterday I wanted to end it all.

The pain, the aching, the suffering, the longing

I wanted to let the foot that had been holding down my chest finally rob me of my power to breathe.
And then I heard Beyonce playing underneath me, which, funnily enough, is similar to what I had imagined heaven to be like. Her words were not soothing but irritating, for those damn catchy songs would not allow me to sleep. As much as I wanted to lie down and die they would not let me, they wanted me to dance and they wanted me to sing. And somewhere amongst the obnoxious melodies that burned through my brain, I relocated the beat of my own heart.

I kicked off the foot on my chest and turned on the TV; where anarchy and peace came together in a beautifully produced piece of news narrative. The story they performed gave me a headache and my eyes hurt to open. I closed the book I had been reading from since I was born.

You write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I’ll rise

In my awoken dreams I realised I had been lying where I should have been rising; to see beyond the end of my own broken fingertips; to end our pain, our suffering, our longing.

I wanted to make a difference in the world that I felt too scared to live in. But I cannot do that if I am not here. 

Thursday, 7 July 2016

My Name

My name? Please, I have identity issues.

If you were looking for AA, it’s down the hall to your right. This is a member’s only club.

So secret, so exclusive in fact that it’s just you, alone. Screaming at the voices in your head that plague you at night.

Maybe you’re crazy. You’ve considered this a lot. At least it would provide some kind of diagnosable, explainable explanation for what you’re going through.

What are you going through? You haven’t even been able to put it into words until now. Besides, who would believe you? You’d only become another attention seeking whore that instagrams her new ‘stay strong’ tattoo.

Staying strong. I write about strength a lot- #BlackLivesMatter, fuck your body standards, I’m the poster girl for I don’t-give-a-damn-what-you-think. But I do. I care who you think I am, because me, myself and I have no idea.

I haven’t the faintest clue how to be black or to be white, I remain in the dark. Neither side can see me but I’m sure they talk in a language I cannot understand. So I’m allowed to have braids but I’m not allowed to talk about black people being gunned down in the street? Is that what you’re saying?

But there I am. In the middle of nightclub, in the peak of 12am vodka flavoured sweat. I am the lightskin girl from the hip hop music video. I your black girl without any of the trouble. I am sexy and exotic, and I don’t have a mind of my own because all the body mass has gone to my butt, which I use to twerk with. Maybe I am the girl of your dreams but you don’t want a relationship with me. I’m far too dangerous.

So I cry. I eat chocolate. I watch rom coms even though I don’t understand them because I’m frantically searching for a woman I can associate with. So I eat more until I feel disgusted with myself. I look in the mirror and I can no longer see the light between my eyes but the gap between my thighs and I’m in love with it. So I run for miles until I think I might throw up. And then I do throw up later, the chocolate cake that I ate in a moment of weakness.

In my weakness I become lazy, and solve this by scrolling through Instagram. I am swamped by the same images of skinny white girls dancing like they’re twenty two that they have now become transparent. I no longer care. I watch Formation and see Beyonce and Serena Williams, and they don’t have thigh gaps and they seem happy. Free. Woke. For a minute, I think that I can be happy too. And then I remind myself that I am the lightskin girl in the hip hop music video with the coke bottle figure, and I cannot break from character. I’d be out of a job.

So I run further, and then I see Alicia Keys preaching natural beauty and I stop. I see a black guy leering at my ass in the club and I start running again. Then I see two black men getting gunned down by police officers in the space of one week and I can take it no more I cannot breathe and I collapse.

Look what you’ve done to me.

What are you going to say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me?

Here lies the body of the love of my life whose heart I broke without a gun to my head.

Here lies the mother of my children, both living and dead.

Rest in peace my true love, who I took for granted, most bomb pussy;

Who because of me, sleep evaded;

Her shroud is loneliness, her God was listening

Her heaven will be a love without betrayal

Ashes to ashes; dust to side chicks. 

Wednesday, 18 May 2016

Best Vegan Hair Conditioners for Natural Hair

Since making my own hair conditioners, I’ve noticed the lack of vegan ingredients that are promoted on websites to repair dry and damaged natural hair. I’m not personally a fully-fledged vegan, but I do try and use as few animal products as possible, and many people forget that the vegan lifestyle still translates into things like clothes, make-up and hair products (yes, even some wines are a no-no.)

The majority of DIY hair conditioners contain honey, yoghurt, or egg, which; whilst great as a source of protein, are not so great for vegans.

So, I’ve done some experimenting and found some of the best vegan ingredients to use for DIY hair conditioners that will still leave your hair strong, shiny and egg free.

1.    Coconut Oil

This was single handedly the biggest trend last year, falling shortly behind the sacred avocado, and people were slathering it on everything. My hair is in love with coconut oil, and I buy it by the bucketload. Rich in vitamins and minerals, coconut oil moisturises dry hair and stimulates hair growth by penetrating deep into the hair follicles. It can also prevent hair breakage, which is a massive problem if you’re a fellow transitioner

2. Shea Butter

Shea is produced from the Shea-Karite tree nut, a native tree found in the tropics of East and West Africa. It’s known for its healing qualities, and can be used to sooth irritated scalps, act as a shield against UV rays and protect against heat. Use it alone or add it to your favourite (vegan) conditioner to give you extra moisture.

3. Olive Oil 

Sure you’re more used to cooking your Friday night fajitas with it, but save a little for the TLC of your tresses. It can help with split ends and dry hair. It’s found in a lot of conditioners, such as Organic Root Stimulator brands, but these tend to come with a lot of added chemicals that your hair just doesn’t need, so I usually add it to my coconut oil mixture to give my hair that added shine.

  4. Avocados 

There really is no getting away from this wonder fruit. As well as being rich in oils that help moisturise the hair, it is also full of amino acids, essential for promoting strong, healthy hair growth. Just make sure you whizz it in a blender first to avoid sticking chunks of avocado on your head.


I cannot stress the wonders of lush products enough, and their hair conditioners and masks are all vegetarian, although only around 80% of their products are vegan. My favourite product for curly and afro hair is their (vegan) R & B hair conditioner. Scrunch a little in your hair after washing for added moisture and defined curls. This product is rather pricy though at £10 for a tiny pot, and Lush seem to really underestimate how much product curly haired girls get through! Use sparingly. 

Thursday, 24 March 2016

A Polite Notice to My Seminar Leader

I am a student. I am one of many students, but I am a student in your seminar group. As a student I am generally meant to complete the work required and engage in discussion. As a teacher, you are meant to respond to such hard work with either points for improvement or encouraging gold stars.

I have been in the education system for a long time. I know how it works, even if I am quite disappointed they don’t give out stickers for hard work anymore.

In order for this relationship to be successful, we have to fulfil both of our roles. After that, I can go out on a bender and you can complain about me to your wife in front of Coronation Street, whatever, who cares.
But this relationship is crumbling like my much thumbed Dickens, who I don’t even like, by the way. 

Recently, I’ve noticed certain behaviours and body language, subtle things that are perhaps less noticeable than a pin dropping. It may just be an eye roll, or a shaking of the head, it is by no means obvious. But then again, I suppose institutional racism never is.

Yes, I said the R word; which I know we don’t talk about in our seminars unless in discussion of slavery obviously because that’s the only thing black people are worth going down in history for.

Institutional racism is not a criticism of you as an individual or anyone else for that matter, it is purely a collective societal issue, so I’d like to clear that up before the university union jumps on me about playing the “race card.”  I try and avoid using the terms “racism” or “prejudice” in my everyday life where their usage is not warranted. I genuinely believe that the society in which we share is overall a liberal and accepting one, so it’s taking an awful lot for me to say this.

For a long while, I thought I was the problem; maybe the points I made in seminars were redundant, or perhaps I didn’t articulate them very well. I had started writing down my points before I said them aloud them, so they were word perfect when I did. At best, you always challenge or ridicule my points. I am used to this as a lot of people disagree with me. In fact, I’d prefer it if you did disagree with me. Better that than the usual, when what I say is not even deserving of a response from you. I’m sure you can understand how discouraging this is for someone who is just trying to learn.

This would be fine if this was your general attitude to teaching. I know a lot of teachers who go into the profession because they had nothing better to do, and their parents would no longer support their “writing” career. But you talk about teaching passionately, and most of my fellow students get a “that’s a really well articulated point,” or even a “I’m not sure I agree, but I’d love you to explain further,” even if that point is as blatantly obvious as the sky being blue (which is a really deep and meaningful metaphor, by the way.)

With all due respect, one student spends the entire seminar duration on her phone, and every other word that comes out of another student’s mouth is “like.” I’m starting to believe less and less that it is my academic abilities are the problem here.

I understand I don’t look like your stereotypical English Literature student. I have an unruly afro. I don’t have an affinity for A-line dresses. I probably have more to say about Kanye West than I do about Robert Browning. The demographics in my English Literature course are startlingly disproportionate- most of them are white females. This is what you think of when you think of a “good” English Literature student.

But I regret to inform you that I refuse to sit at the back of the class and take prejudice anymore. I am sick of the mixed looks of surprise and speechlessness when I actually made a half-arsed point; and then disgust because I went against your expectations. I am exhausted of frankly, having to work harder than most simply to break through the barrier of prejudice that seems to keep erecting itself just when you think it has been knocked down. I am bored of my opinion only mattering when it comes to issues of race, because yeah, I was there, I must know all about the slave experience.

But I will thank you, and every other figure in a position of authority that has treated me with such prejudicial discontent. In an ideal world, we shouldn’t judge people by their appearance, or what we think we know about them. We shouldn’t assume that Asians are only built to study maths or economics, and we shouldn’t, even in our darkest prejudices, think that black students; and other students of ethnic minorities, only got their place to fill a diversity quota.

And I confess that I am writing this more quickly than I wrote my essay for your module, but this is something that needs to be said- for every student that has felt, and still feels, like old and tired stereotypes are what’s stopping them from being themselves and achieving everything they have potential to achieve and beyond. This is for every student who refuses to let their societal identity define who they are and what they are capable of.

I am not a tickbox on a form. I am not your expectations. But I truly hope that one day I’ll be able to prove you wrong.  

So, I know I've been quieter than Lindsay Lohan's career, but I am back by popular demand. I've got a couple of exciting projects lined up for this old thing, so keep your eyes peeled. I'd like to say they are very carefully planned projects, but recently, I've realised planning in advance never works out. Thank you for reading and for keeping on reading, you guys are the best. x 

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

How To #25: How To Love Yourself

Justin Bieber is perhaps smarter than we give him credit for- and it's high time we took his advice to LOVE YOURSELF. Don't pretend you didn't sing that out loud.

Stepping away from the comfort of my keyboard, the smart arses among you will notice that this blog post is in video format. Two points for you, you go Glen Coco.

I'm about as natural in front of the camera as Donald Trump is in front of Muslims, but I thought I'd try something new.

Please excuse my exaggerated hand gestures and general appearance. Also the editing is really lame; I used a free editing programme and the background music sounds like the opening titles of a Pixar film, but if all goes well, I promise I'll do better next time. If it doesn't- well, that's four minutes of your life you'll never get back.

The idea is that alongside my blog, I'll have a snapchat you can follow and watch my weekly topical videos and daily antics.

So without further ado, roll the titles.