I’m Abi. I’m 29, and I live in south-east London with my long-suffering boyfriend Ross and a gangly ball of floof by the name of Elsie. I’m a freelance writer, which pretty much just means that I earn my living by making shit up and hoping someone pays me for it.
I’ve always been a fan of the sort of nonsense people call “lifestyle content”. The trouble is, though, that unlike a lot of these magnificent goddesses I’m an actual human being: my planning and journaling spreads look like they were done by an eight year old child, my gorgeous home interiors have acquired a certain aura of tea stains and fag ash and even the yummiest of the food I cook tends to look a bit like cat sick.
So I decided it was time to redress the balance. Stick around if you fancy learning more about politics that isn’t always perfect, witchcraft that doesn’t have an aesthetic, a native’s view of a totally unglamourous part of London and self-care for people whose bad days don’t come with Instagram filters.
If you’re enjoying what I write you might like to download my free printables, have a look at my hodgepodge of an Etsy shop, peruse my most useful posts or add me via my personal Instagram and/or Twitter accounts.