I’ve known Lovisa and the girls for three years now. Compared to back then the sparkling excitement of endless nights around London has faded and we are all a bit broken and worn. Not sure whether I can blame this city or if it’s just growing up. But most other things remain the same, like the awful salaries for examples.
It’s Friday and I’ve taken the overground down to South London to visit my girls. It’s rare to cross the river, whatever side you happen to live on. We’re all so skint that an overground ride is one less beer and that sometimes mean no beer at all. Plus that spending 90min getting home at night is simply unreasonable. But once you do, it’s like being on holiday in a faraway place, minus the stunning views.
They are five girls sharing a house, all juggling part-time retail job to be able to pursue a creative career. The landlord owning a shop next door is drunk and catcalls us when we walk past. Inside we cook food whilst the front door opens and closes with more girls constantly falling in, hugging each other, making dirty jokes, talking about farts as well as careers and skirts. We sit in the back garden, rolling cigarettes (the cheap ones) and drinking chilled wine (the even cheaper one), lifting weights and making dumb jokes. Everybody keeps changing outfits and they have so many inside jokes I’ve lost count. It’s freeing seeing chicks share lives like this, being more than a family, they’re each other’s loudest cheerleaders. On every opening or release party or event that one of them host you will see the others being there, pouring wine, photographing the crowd, djing. I love living with Daniel more than anything, but I will always miss being flatmates with my best girlfriends.