#NOWPLAYING: August '16

Some stuff old, some stuff new, all tunes I've been listenin' to.

A space of one's own

Although there's an intrinsic impermanence associated with every physical space we inhabit – our own bodies being the only true “home” we reside in for our life’s entirety – the act of creating a soul soothing space we repeatedly return to is, to me, an immeasurable kinda pleasure. It's palpable, visceral; a place of solace and respite, imbued with everyday rituals and one-off memories. 

At its core, a sense of home isn’t material in nature: it’s a feeling. And however small, big, or (im)permanent your current physical space may be, it’s in your power to make that feeling a good one. Of course, only you can define this – it's a sensation entirely idiosyncratic; unique to you. 

Whether it was my first little Berlin flat two years ago, the uni room I settled in last year, or the more longterm Berlin apartment in which I currently reside, one thread has remained consistent: each and every space has encompassed a pot-pourri of elements that characterise and reflect me, in all my eccentricities. 

Life’s an uncertain little thing. There’s so much we encounter in our daily lives – people, scenarios, energies – that are entirely out of our control (and can occasionally have an undesirable impact on our internal state). This is where your sacred space swoops in and saves the day, quite often in a very literal sense: it restores your baseline, your default setting. It’s a place to reset, recharge and be entirely yourself. 

This is why solo living is the ideal scenario for an introverted soul like me. Since I’m able to immediately ground myself upon each return, my little one person apartment is a fundamental that lays the foundations for my character outside the private sphere – that is, it reinstates my energy, wellbeing and the inner contentedness I seek to maintain, equipping me for the more uncontrollable elements of the public sphere. 

Home means something different to everyone, and even your own definition will ebb and flow over time. The household accompaniments we value, and material space we inhabit may indeed change, but one trait will remain constant: that warm feeling of return is something you simply can’t put a price on.

Wear the pants

... and the shorts, and the skirts, and the dresses, and the leotards – wear whatever the f*ck you want. I love a good (high waisted) trouser though, and these recent Zara sale steals have been my go-to garms this summer.

Here I am wearing them. 

[Photos by Ellen]

#GAZELLE: Kate Moss X Adidas X Dad

If there's one thing I've clocked over the past year or so, it's that life has a tendency to throw you intermittent signs – regardless of what you believe, or indeed don't, believe in. This particular one just happens to be quite huge, and very literal.

In 1993 (the year I was born, incidentally) my late Pa – Denzil McNeelance as he was known to most – shot a fresh young face from Croydon, tipped to be the "year's supermodel" in The Times. 23 years on, and it's safe to say you might have heard of her: one Miss Kate Moss.

Although the shoot in question has been floating around the internet over the past few years, nothing notable had ever been done with the images, discounting their original publication. Aside from anything else, my creative-brained Dad never quite mastered the art of business or self-promotion – above all in the digital sphere, which he did everything possible to flee from. He was an analogue man, through and through.

Fast forward to last year – the week I permanently moved to Berlin, just a few weeks after he suddenly passed away aged 56 – my friend excitedly messaged me a picture of his Kate Moss shoot in Germany's version of Glamour Magazine. Suffice it to say, this caught me totally off guard – his work from 1993, published in an article about the old school sneaker revival (my footwear of choice), the week I move to Berlin, in Glamour Deutschland?! First sign, tick. Little did I know this was just a glimpse of what was to follow.

Exactly one year later – practically to the day – the aforementioned Kate Moss shoot is now gaining worldwide recognition, front and centre, as part of Adidas Originals' huge Gazelle relaunch: their 'Remember the Future' campaign.

Naturally, it had been in the works for a few months in the run-up – numerous email exchanges, negotiations, approval from Kate Moss and the like – but the idea really didn't sink in until I spotted it permeating social media networks, online publications and then in the flesh, super-sized, at Berlin's Gazelle Backyard Gallery. A goosebumps kinda moment to say the least.





Like the Adidas model itself, his now iconic image will always be an original. But this fresh remix has given Dad's work – and now him – a new life that I never could have anticipated. And although I won't be hanging up my trusty Stan Smiths any time soon, Gazelles just got given a whole new significance for me and siblet.

Weekly wisdom #17

However much satisfaction you might (or indeed might not) get from your full-time occupation – be it studying, working, or somewhere in between – the thrill of a side hustle shouldn't be underestimated. Keeping something for yourself, your thing, provides a kinda inner contentedness and fulfilment that outwardly-imposed work just can't compete with. But the two needn't be mutually exclusive; they can co-exist! With a conscious mindset shift, there's nothing that should stop you (or me) from those little passion pursuits. 

By side hustle, I'm referring to the inwardly-motivated ambition that truly sets your heart aflutter – and doesn't need to be monetised or get you "seen" to be considered a success. Quite the opposite in fact. In focusing on the soul stuff first, those things might well come, but the results will be a whole lot more authentic when superficiality isn't the stimulus.

Don't get me wrong, I make no claim to have mastered this. If anything, what you're reading now is an exercise in personal accountability; I have note pads (and note pads and note pads) filled with the side goals I wanna hit, but have up to now been putting off with inexcusable excuses. Speaking as an eternal perfectionist and imposter syndrome sufferer, too, there's a certain vulnerability and fear tied to deeply personal projects; a self-imposed pressure to fully do them justice. After all, they're a reflection of "you" in the realest sense. 

But I've resolved to make the things happen – step by step. Here's a little line-up of ways that might just help you with your side hustle too, whatever it may be:

• Don't see your full-time job as an obstruction. If anything, see it as an enabler; the stability that allows you to schedule in out-of-work time to do what brings you pure, unmitigated joy. Though it's easy to idealise working for yourself – which of course still isn't out of the question – in reality it's a luxury to be able to do stuff that's wholly for you, without it bearing the burden of paying bills and other adult things. No pressure.

• Be focused and intentional with your 24 hours a day. There's so much we do out of habit, that our knee-jerk excuse is "I'm too busy" or "I just don't have time." But by being aware of and prioritising what's truly important to us, we can free up space and take (see: make) the time to do the things we wanna do. If you can't make the time for it, it's obviously not a priority right now. And that's ok. 

• "Don't compare your hustle to their highlights reel" – I came across this quote through Sophia Amoruso of Nasty Gal and #Girlboss, who I believe got it from this article. In short, social media often warps the BTS hard work and sh*ttier, sweatier, messier moments, neatly curating and mediating the process and final product into minimalist, flatlay, VSCO-filtered form. But let's be clear: we're all winging it and self-doubting, but we're also – each and every one of us – full of more potential than we know. And we owe it to ourselves to realise it.

7.5.16

It's hard to articulate how time can simultaneously move so quickly and yet so slowly in a 12-month time span; how so much can change and yet feelings can remain so incredibly close to the surface. It's surreal to think that exactly one year ago today – even if it's one day later that bears the most prominence for me – siblet and I lost our Pa at the not-so-ripe age of 56. Unexpectedly, suddenly, and without a chance to say goodbye.

It's funny: With Prince's recent passing at 57 – which Papa would have also turned this year – it really foregrounded to me just how premature it all was. Their added musical connection and entirely individualistic natures only underlined the parallel (not that they're to be compared, but you can see how it evoked familiar feelings).

Firsts are always the hardest, and there'll always be little moments and unforeseeable triggers that catch me off guard. I've learned the hard way that it's ok to feel the shit bits; it's ok to be a bit vulnerable; it's ok to be a most-of-the-time incredibly happy human and still feel the waves of negativity that slap you round the face ever so often. And to let yourself actually feel them.

Because looking back on the past 12 months, the 6-week period from May 7th 2015 onwards – during which I completed my uni finals, graduated with a first, got my dream job and independently moved my life to Berlin (all the while contending with the loss of one of the most significant people in my life) has only made me realise more how bloody much us humans are capable of, not to mention how much we can grow as a result of life's aforementioned shit bits. Even if those meagre 6 weeks couldn't be more of a blur to me now.

Just like the post I impulsively wrote one year ago (see here), this little entry is a heart-on-sleeve sorta outpouring; an entirely personal – some might say selfish – stream-of-consciousness slur that's really here to document this significant spot in my life; for me. But if you happen to take anything from it, let it be this: Know that you're so much more capable than you give yourself credit for. Use – as much as possible – any shitty-life-event-induced energies to fuel your strongest, most determined, motivated self. And always let yourself have a cry when you need to (be it in public or not).

NB: The lettered quotes that appear here are all taken from conversations I had / voicemails I received from Denz; it's amazing how (in the moment) seemingly small sentences acquire such significance posthumously. 

A petite reminder to write it all down! 

Apple crumble + custard shake (VGN)

Don't get me wrong, I love (love) to eat, but I'm also quite the beverage enthusiast – and any excuse to whip out my beloved blender, too. This in mind, experimenting with fun smoothie and shake concoctions (while keeping the ingredients as more-or-less wholesome as I can), is a regular event in my little Berlin kitchen.  

As with most of my culinary creations, this combination came about kinda fortuitously – the result of needing to use up ingredients before a quick London getaway –  but I thought the outcome was worth a share. Dainty disclaimer: Don't go expecting an actual apple crumble and custard dish, but rather an alternative take on the conventional dessert's fundamental flavours, unconventionally remixed into a sweet and (I think) lovely liquid.  

For one serving, you will need: 

> 1x banana 

> approx. 200ml dairy free vanilla milk (Alpro's soya vanilla has the most custard-like taste, but choose according to your own preference!)

> a handful of cashews

> 1 tbsp vanilla protein (I use NUA Naturals vanilla rice protein powder)

> a squeeze of agave/maple syrup

> 1 tsp cinnamon

> 3 tbsp apple purée (100% apples)

> for the topping: a sprinkle of oats, crushed cashews, date sugar and/or coconut sugar  

Make:

1) Blend the banana, vanilla milk, agave/maple syrup, cashews, vanilla protein and cinnamon.

2) Spoon the apple purée into the base of your jar (or other vessel of choice). 

3) Pour the vanilla shake over the apple purée.

4) Sprinkle your oats and cashews (toasted if you like), as well as date or coconut sugar on top.

5) Pop a straw in. A little spoon might come in handy too. Ta-da.