Being a November Spendy Wendy

Is it just me, or does it seem like everybody and their kitty’s cousin have their birthday in the latter half of November/mid-December? Are we all a by-product of a steamy night around the dreaded V-Day?  I’m born on the final day of November, which means my birthday celebrations usually spill well into the first week of December as well as the ‘pre-birthday’ stuff too.  It means I can stuff myself silly with Crazy Pedro’s nacho pizza on December 11 and still use the “it has just been my birthday month” excuse, as well as guzzle prosecco at Bill’s on November 23rd and still use the excuse “it is my birthday month” Basically it is my birthday month up until I say it is not – you got that?

That all being said, it is official: I am now a fully-fledged adult.  21 years of age and all I have done for the past couple weeks is eat my weight in birthday cake (baked by the most handsome man in the world… No, not Cillian Murphy), sip on pints of prosecco, consumed some great live music and danced my lil’ socks off in Gay clubs with my nearest and dearest.  Obviously, this Geordie bee couldn’t have her 21st without entering KIKI on Canal Street, MCR and getting MORTAL could she?  Let me just say I attempted the worm on the light-up dancefloor and it did not exactly go to plan.

So anyways.  Because it has been my birthday month, I’ve been being a lil’ bit spendy.  By a lil’ bit spendy I mean I’ve just thrown my whole budget out of the window and thought “fuck it, my twenty-one-year-old self-deserves this”.  God, you’d think I’d never bought myself a lipstick before the way I am flaunting it about.  So, here are the few things I’ve bought over the course of November… So far.

Tommy Hilfiger Perfume

In my short space of time on this blue planet, I’ve come across two failsafe perfumes which I religiously re-purchase.  These include Burberry’s iconic Brit and Tommy Hilfiger’s Tommy Girl.  The latter was the first perfume I was ever given and holds the best memories for myself.  I reckon I must’ve only been about thirteen, I had just moved out of the big city and into a rural town, and my dad wanted to cheer me up.  I probably would have been happy with a bar of choccy, but I am so grateful that I gained Tommy Girl instead.  So is my waistline.

Tommy Girl simply smells absolutely divine!  The eau de cologne emits tones of tangy citrus juxtaposed with soft herbal notes and apparently allows the wearer to live the American dream. Get in my non-existent pink soft top Ken, we’re going to party!  I should maybe mention that I can’t drive?

Tommy Girl by Tommy Hilfiger from (£19.99)


Motel Rocks Sample Sale

If you did not know, Motel Rocks happened to slide into my emails a couple moons ago, insisting that everything on their website was £10.  I’d put myself on a spending ban until the end of November but look how that has turned out – I’ve bought so much I’m writing some words on how ashamed/impressed I am with myself.

Do you remember when Lizzie McGuire went to Rome and fell in love and ended up singing on stage?  What was it that she sang again… “Hey now, hey now – this is what dreams are made of!” Well, that is exactly what the Motel Rocks Sample Sale was fashioned from – dreams.

Almost everything online was listed at only £10 and who can really refuse that?  I temporarily banned the spending ban and purchased myself a couple of things I really did not need but really lusted after.

The first thing I picked up was this playful, carnival halterneck crop-top.  I always find that because of my large bust, halterneck’s both extenuate and flatter the top half of my body better than perhaps spaghetti straps or thickly ribbed vests.  I am also not the skinniest girl in the world (hello massive hips, how you doin’?) so vertical stripes are a big yes, yes, yes from me.  I got the crop-top in a size small and I must say my boobs look simply fab.  I took it for a spin at the Feel My Bicep night at Warehouse Project a couple weeks ago and I am head-over-heels in love.  Not bad for £10.

Also in the Sample Sale, I nabbed this iridescent peach plunge body from Motel Rocks.  Now, the colour of this is amazing, the quality faultless however it just does not sit right with me.  The bodysuit itself is a bit on the big side (I purchased my usual size of medium) and the side-boob is just a bit too much for my liking considering I cannot remember the last time I went out-out.  If full-frontal boasting of your assets and a bit of back action is your thing then baby, this is the body for you!



My relationship with makeup is an odd one.   I always jealously eye up those gals with the perfect brow or shocking pink eyeshadow but I just cannot pull it off myself.  I believe I look better with just a swipe of mascara or a dab of bronzer – my permanently red-cheeks definitely do not need any blusher and I rarely use foundation.  Because of this, makeup is never really a top priority for myself.

But shock horror, stop the press, I’ve actually bought makeup for once.  No, I didn’t spend hours in Debenhams scouring the beauty counters for the perfect eyeliner to do those cute cat eye flicks – I just did a quick ten minute Boots order and thought, meh.  That’ll do pig, that’ll do.

First up is my ride-or-die favourite beauty product in the whole god damn world – the Smashbox Photo Finish Foundation Primer.  Oil-free and lightweight, I swear by this product for when foundation does occasionally grace my face.   It is on the pricey side, but it lasts me so God damn long, I can’t even bat an eyelid.

As well from Smashbox, I dipped into my wages and pulled out a wad full of cash which transformed itself into the Limitless Liquid Liner Pen in jet black, as well as a matte lipstick from the ‘Be Legendary’ range – in the colour Safe Word.  The liner itself is a lot thicker than I am used to –  the Chanel Ligne Graphique De Chanel is my go-to liner, so no wonder – however I love how easy it glides on the lid.  I am still no pro, and still a million miles away from successfully completing a perfect wing but I am getting there, and the Smashbox pen is a confidence-boosting product.

The lipstick from the matte range is totally the perfect pink nude.  One of the classic Smashbox colours, the pigment in this cruelty-free lipstick is phenomenal.  It only takes a swipe of lippy and we are set for the whole day.  Unlike other matte lipsticks, this one doesn’t dry lips out.  Since using the lipstick, I am definitely looking into purchasing some more products from the Be Legendary range.

So those are some of the treats I have bought myself for my Birthday month.   Like the title of this blog admits – I have been a little bit more of a Spendy Wendy than I perhaps should have been.  However it is okay to treat yourself once in awhile, right?  Wish me luck, my rent is due soon.   Beans on toast when you next come round to mine, okay?

Ells x



November 2017 Round-Up

Remember, remember November, November.  There is no way I am ever forgetting this month anytime soon!  Arguably the most exciting, dramatic, fun and fast-paced month of the entirety of 2017 – November has been chock-filled with mouth-watering edibles extenuating my hips, live music, my birthday, heaps of giggles and BOOZE GALORE.

Food, glorious food

I’m a sucker for a meal out.  Whether it is early morning breakfast, a spot of brunch spent gossiping with a mimosa in hand, a quick sandwich and a coffee, a super-late lunch, a romantic candlelit dinner – there is never enough time in the day to go out for food.  This month I have been out to grab a bite to eat at seven different food joints.  I do not know whether that is good or bad by my standard, it’s almost two meals out per week?

I have a trio of meals which have stuck out in my memory from November.  One of which is Ziya, an Asian Grill on Manchester’s infamous Curry Mile, my birthday meal at the gorgeous Grand Pacific, an upmarket eatery with a passion for pineapples and a good ol’ Sunday scran at The Northern Quarter.  You will never guess where the latter is situated in Manchester.

My waistline has definitely bulged this month and my bank account has been rinsed, but you know what – I feel bloody damn good in myself and relish in the fact I have been shovelling loads of fantastic goods down my gob.
(A Plate of gnocchi, Fress, Oldham Street, MCR) 

(An assortment of curries, Ziya, Curry Mile, MCR)
(Tempura Sea Bass, Grand Pacific, MCR) 

Not working 9-5

If you have read some of my previous posts, you would have known I used to work as a bartender/waitress in NQ.  Used to is the most important part of this sentence.  Since quitting my job the world of opportunity has literally cocked its leg and beckoned me inside.  In the past couple years I have depended on a social life, alcohol-fuelled rampages and money greed to rule my life, pushing productivity to the near brink of extinction.

But over the past couple weeks, I have seen a total difference in myself.  I want to sit down at my laptop and dance across the keyboard and post my creativity online.  I’ve started taking my Assistant Editor role at Gigslutz so much more seriously, aiming to post news stories every day, Cigarette Sounds is back up and running and for once I’m not THAT far behind on university work.  Obviously, I am missing the money but right now, I am the top priority.

“Where are you going Hermionie?” “To the library.”

Speaking of university, I have finally succumbed to the power of the quiet-zone in the library.  There is something about The University of Salford’s larger-than-life white desks, the litter of macs, the random deckchairs, and there not being anything to distract me from pouring over my work (I mean the kettle and the fridge and chatter) that I adore.  I definitely reckon falling in love with the library – alongside listening to Harry Potter audiobooks for motivation– has boosted my productivity levels.

Anything that makes me leave the house after lying in bed for days on end is a yes from me, even if it can be a bit of a faff finding a free computer sometimes.

Thank You For The Music

Manchester swells to a considerably larger size than it already is when anybody admits it is the city of song.  In the entirety of November, I only managed to pencil three gig nights into my diary – one of which being Betsy at Gorilla on the penultimate day of the month, Off The Record Festival on the 10 and the big one – the Bicep presents Feel My Bicep at Warehouse Project.

The WHP season is not something I have really ever looked forward too.  I went to a Ram Jam night last year, got too drunk to speak; hated every minute that David Rodigan pranced around on stage and vowed I would never attend a night in the dingy warehouse again, for as long as I lived.

This obviously did not last very long, did it? When the Bicep boys, a lucky guestlist space and spending the night two-stepping with one of your favourite gals is dangled in front of you-you cannot say no, can you?  I did try to review my night at WHP, but I lost my keys, my ID and all of my money in the space of 10 minutes, which just shows what kind of state I was in.

You can read my review of Welsh songstress Betsy via Gigslutz here, accompanied by some shots from Lucy Fletcher.

You can read mine & Gigslutz editor Mel Svenson’s take on Off The Record festival 2017, accompanied by some shots from the ridiculously talented Jon Mo, here.

Oh Christmas markets, oh Christmas markets

And oh, how could we forget the Manchester Christmas Markets.  They bring the Christmas spirit far to early, and force you to drink mulled cider and drown yourself with hot chocolate at the time where your purse clasps should be clamped shut.  They have not even been open a month yet and I have already trampled over to the markets situated in Albert Square more times than I can count.  I imagine December shall be a lot of the same… Once I pick up my ID from WHP that is!

Gonna’ party like it’s yo’ birthday, baby girl

Hiya world, Ella Scott is twenty-one.  No, I am never going to stop banging on about it.  The beginning of the end (dun, dun, dun) of the month heralded a visit from my best friend Jemma, in the spirit of an early birthday.  As well as having my main gal in Manchester, I dined out considerably and ended up sprawled out on the floor of Canal Street attempting to do the worm.

I’m now currently spending the weekend at home, sipping on guess what (you already know) prosecco and getting carbonara cooked for me by my wonderful mother.  God, am I a real-life princess?  Coming back home to north Newcastle is one of my most favourite things.  Just the sight of my cat and dog send me into a fit of excitement, and my little brother too I guess.  It has been a swell birthday and the 21st year of birth is going to be one to remember.  I can feel it.


November has been as cool as a cucumber.  I have had the best month, and now I am so excited to officially start drinking and eating my way into a coma this Christmas.

Ells x


A sneak-peak into my record collection

One of the most important aspects of my life is music.  It surrounds every major life decision; soundtracks the heartbreaks and heartaches  I encounter; lifts my mood like nothing and nobody else, and has influenced me to embrace my interest as part of a possible future career path.  Because of how important music is, I thought I would share some gems from my record collection with you guys.

The Cure – The Caterpillar 

1984 – The year of The Terminator, the birth of The MTV Music Awards and The Cure’s ‘Caterpillar’.  My premier band list is longer than my tongue, but topping it every time, without the flick of a heavy-mascara eyelash, is The Cure.  ‘The Caterpillar’ is entering its fifth year as being the hidden gem in my vinyl collection and this 7” is not slowing down in idolisation anytime soon.  I feel I have a little bit of the original Goth queen, Robert Smith, watching over my Castlefield flat every time I give this pretty single a spin.

Lady Gaga – Bad Romance Picture Disk

In my record collection, I have one and only one guilty pleasure, which also doubles up as one of my prized possessions – my Lady Gaga ‘Bad Romance’ picture disk.  The 7” vinyl itself is stunning –  featuring a dazzling picture of mother monster herself, and holds both a radio edit of ‘Bad Romance’ and a DJ Dan club remix of ‘Paparazzi’.

I have forever been in adoration of Lady Gaga.  From firstly seeing her emerging pregnant from a coffin on stage at Radio 1’s Big Weekend, to cruising around my hometown with my mother dearest, blaring the words to ‘G.U.Y’ – Gaga is an artist who bears a selection of my fondest memories.

The picture disk isn’t something I like to get out of its dust cover very often but, when it does come out, my neighbours down the hall know about it.

Kate Bush – The Kick Inside

Of the hundreds (maybe even thousands) of novels, I have had my nose wedged in; nothing comes close to Charlotte Bronte’s Wuthering Heights.  The passion I have for Wuthering Heights is second to none, which is probably why I believe Kate Bush’s ode is the perfect remedy for any bad mood.  Catch me mortal drunk stifling sobs as I scream the words “IM SO COOOOOLD/LET ME INTO YOUR WINDOOOOOW”.

Kate Bush’s ‘Wuthering Heights’ features on The Kick Inside (1978) – Bush’s debut LP – and, although the album itself is not one of the greatest vinyl in my collection, it features my karaoke classic as well as ‘The Man With The Child In His Eyes’.  Have you heard anything more tear-jerking than Kate Bush softly crooning the words to ‘The Man With The Child In His Eyes’?  The double team of tracks follow each other on the tracklist, making owning The Kick Inside beyond worth it.

Adam And The Ants – Kings Of The Wild Frontier

The tidal wave of emotion I receive from the 7” crackling, and then Adam Ant’s pertaining voice echoing “A new Royal Family, a wild nobility, we are the family” forever surprises me.  The wash of gratitude I have for my dad for purchasing this 7” is forever embedded in my heart.  Not only is ‘Kings Of The Wild Frontier’ my favourite Adam & The Ants track but reminds me of ridiculously overpriced dragon fruit cocktails in Camden and caving in the bed of my old bedroom… Through ponging up and down on the bed in joy, obviously!  Gosh, what were you thinking?

And there you have it, a sneaky-peak into the backbone of my vinyl collection.  It is ever-expanding and extremely diverse, but I always have time to adore the classics.  What are your favourite albums and singles that you cannot live without?

Tweet me on @ellalascott with your answers!

Ells x


Portraying your feelings on the internet

If you are a long-time prowler of my musings then you will already know that I tend to document the troublesome times of my life on the internet.  If you are also a serial online stalker (like me…) then you may also have realised that these woeful posts have vanished from my bright little corner of the internet.  Why?  Let me explain.

It has come to my attention that generally a lot more people than I realised read this blog. “Cigarette Sounds har har” is thrown at me a lot by the most haphazard persons, and I am still shocked that people give a little bit of a Michael about what I put on my Instagram stories and what comes out of my mind in hazy patches and fluorescent blobs.  It’s nice, really nice.

However, due to this current influx of people jumping on the bandwagon, I am beginning to see my content changing, my flare and passion developing and losing the idea that sharing my deepest, darkest feelings on the internet for all and more to see maybe is not my greatest achievement to date.   Slowly (a lie, I just mass deleted) I’m taking away my evidence of my episodes, my dips and my troughs away from prying eyes.  Why?  Because they are mine.

There are two sides to this coin.  Me, posting my inner-feelings onto the internet, naked, bare, laid out on the table, ready to be poked and prodded by readers and critics galore offers a sense of vulnerability and genuine realness.  Nobody’s life is plastered with Valencia or the sepia tones of Slumber now, are they? (RIP the classic Instagram filters of our past.) Me lying in bed hungover on a Wednesday morning would be so much more appealing personally if Insta’ filters were real.

So, when I do let my emotions billow out of me, I am both proud of myself for admitting my faults and happy that others can perhaps relish in the ideology that they are not alone in this struggle.  It also makes me feel a HELL of a lot better for getting some ludicrously daunting thoughts off of my chest.

On the flipside, an hour after this empowerment I have gained from spilling all da beans, I just feel stupid; utterly ridiculous.  Why could I have not just kept it to myself?  Why did I have to tell everybody on Twitter that I cried because I dropped a Greggs cheese and onion pasty on a tram track, on the way to a twelve-hour shift?  Did I really think that people could empathise with that?  Is this really how I want to present myself on the internet?  Am I going to be headhunted for a brand-new job opportunity, or perhaps partnered with a brand if I am always moaning about how S A D I am?

Probably not.

Do I honestly care?

Er, DUH.

How you present yourself on the internet is becoming an integral part of your personality.  Do you really doubt that one day, your future employer will not find that misogynistic tweet you typed out on your Blackberry seven years ago?  What you say and what you do on the internet did not really have an impact on your immediate image when you were eleven but now it undeniably carries a heavier amount of weight.  Your past opinions and your present, carefully constructed beliefs, neatly packaged into 140-character tweets speak categorical, resounding volumes.

I stopped sharing so much on the internet when I stopped watching certain Youtube channels, decided I would no longer be influenced by the ‘bare-all’ approach to the internet that some bloggers took and also became more aware of what was going on around me.

If I wanna eat coco-pops with Alpro rubarb yoghurt with chocolate sprinkles on at 5am, do I NEED to tell the world of Cigarette Sounds that that’s what I am doing?  No.

Do I NEED to live up to the expectation that from 7 am – 12 am I am sat, handcuffed to my laptop with my eyes tirelessly feeling up Microsoft Word? NO.

Basically, what I am trying to establish is that the girl is still the same. The girl is still Ella Scott, who gets wine drunk and face plants puddles in the middle of Northern Quarter, who’s heart is fully-invested in Music Documentaries (that George Michael one still has my heart, LORDY), is totally not over the avocado hype and will still undoubtedly pour her HEART AND SOUL onto the internet… She’s just going to write down in her journal that she spilt coffee all over her crotch in a University lecture and had to burst out the door, run to the loo’s and strip off her tights before sulking back and bursting into tears. Because you do not need to know that.

Yep, my journal is about to get a W H O L E lot juicier!

Remind me to keep those words under lock and key!

Ells x


My Winter Skin

How did that song at primary school go? “You need skin, take good care of it, don’t harm a hair of it?” I have a constant love affair going on with my skin – sometimes I treat it like the most important person in my life (so that’s why I made myself five banana pancakes smothered with peanut butter last night in front of Blue Planet II…) and other times I will go to bed three days straight without wiping the mascara from my eyes.  Well, I didn’t say it was a healthy love affair, did I?

Since the age of fourteen, my skin had always been ripe with pimples.  I put it down on two things:

1) Not knowing that rubbing my face red-raw with Dove soap and a rough flannel twice a week was going to do more damage than good.

2) Having my first job as a kitchen porter in a super greasy kitchen, scrubbing grease off walls, peeling grease from the inside of a deep fat fryer, other things to do with grease etc.  Grease + face scrubbing = disaster.  Now that is the kind of equation I can get my head around, considering it has plagued my face most of my adult life.

Add these ingredients to a bubbling pot of frosty weather beating my nose into the colour of Rudolph’s as well as the urge to have twenty baths in a fortnight and boy, do we have a piping-hot recipe for a spot outbreak like no other.  ‘BEWARE OF THE WINTER SKIN’ I will have pinned to my forehead.

However, rejoice, this winter I think things are going to look and feel very different.  I believe to have found the elixirs of eternal skincare this Christmas period.

Praise the heavens above that my face has been blessed by the skincare angels, who have sprinkled the cure to spots into my very palms.  It has taken a fair few years of using everything under the sun and emptying my bank account splurging on the unnecessary, but finally, finally, I can say I will be confident in my winter skin this season.  So without further ado –

Simple Replenishing Rich Moisturiser

Honestly, who knew that my go-to moisturiser that would hydrate my skin to the greatest lengths would be something from the Simple range?  I have tried the classic Kiels, the Garnier Moisture Bomb and the Clinique Dramatically Different to name a few, but nothing comes close to the luxurious feeling of the Simple Replenishing Rich Moisturiser.

I definitely picked this little baby up on a whim during a frantic ASDA shop, and Jesus I am glad! It turns out Simple moisturisers are not just for picking up in the last-minute bargain-bin before a jet set around the globe.

The formula itself is extremely rich and creamy – meaning it is perfect for lathering on thickly after a steamy bath – yet does not clog up pores.  Pair this moisturiser with the Smashbox Photo Finish primer for faultlessly smooth and supple skin and dare to bare – let your dewy skin be the envy of all your pals.  Heavy-duty and smelling divine, the Simple rich moisturiser is going straight back in my basket.

Garnier Refreshing botanical toner with Aloe Extract
Lush Breath of fresh air Toner Water

More the merrier when a toner is concerned this winter, but only in the mornings… Do not question my logic because I actually have no idea what I am doing, I am just rolling with the punches.  BAM: skin specialist.  BAM: I am a liar.  BAM: I am just going to carry on.

My two go-to toners which I have stocked up in bucket loads are the Breath Of Fresh Air Toner Water from Lush and the Aloe Vera toner from the Garnier  Refreshing Botanical toner range.   The former is extremely new to my routine – just over a couple of months old now – while the Garnier has been a staple for 6 months +.  I’m still using both on/off, however; I am finding that the toner being a spray rather than a smother-on-a-cotton-pad is both much more refreshing and more complimentary to my skin.  The skin around my nose can breathe a sigh of relief, as the blackheads are being banished one dinky salty glaze at a time.

The Lush toner contains fresh sea water alongside spring water and Fair Trade Aloe Vera gel (making it both zingy and calming once sprayed) while the Garnier consists purified water as well as aloe leaf and corn molasses among more.  Both equally treat my face as good as gold, however, I am slowly but surely turning my full attention and moon face to the Lush toner.  Although the turquoise packaging shines in comparison to the contrasting, ordinary Lush bottle, I still cannot help the smile on my face as I spritz myself.  Spritzzzzzz.

Both of these toners smell gorgeous, however, the Lush toner has strong hints of Lavender and sweet salt while the Garnier has a pure aloe aroma.  Toner is used in reducing pore size as well as cleanse the skin, so having a pretty damn fine scent attached is definitely a plus.

Tip: put your toner in the fridge for stirring morning rejuvenation.

Amie Morning Clear Purifying Facial Wash
Lush Ultrabland Facial Cleanser

All of the boys and all of the girls are begging to get their mitts on Amie (la, la, la).

I am a big advocate and adorer of anything Amie Skincare put out, I wrote a bumper blog post about what you should be splashing on your face here.  In my winter skincare routine, I am taking forward two of the Amie skincare pieces, including the Morning Clear Purifying Facial Wash.

More peaceful on skin than exfoliating products but doing the exact same job in a largely calming matter, the purifying facial wash is 100% soap free and simply needs a splash of water and a pea-sized amount of product to do its magic.  The pink wonder also works miracles on makeup removing, however, avoid taking off mascara/eyeliner unless a panda is your kinda’ jam.

As well as my cleansing ride-or-die, my skin has fallen head-over-heels in adoration for the Lush Ultrabland Facial Cleanser.


The aroma of the Ultrabland reminds me of my kitchen after I have the gals around for one too many beers, or the honey in my porridge from three days ago still being stuck to the side.  Now it sounds weird but honestly, this product is becoming my ultra favourite thing to put on my skin.  Essentially a moisturising bomb, the thick cleanser scoops out dirt from places I did not even know dirt could stick and wipes makeup off with the flick of a wrist.  YOU NEED THIS POT OF GOLD IN YOUR LIFE OKAY, JUST BELIEVE ME.

Face Mask
Lush Mask Of Magnaminty
Amie Spring Clean Deep Cleansing Mask

Bad day?  Stick a face mask on.  Didn’t make it to the gym?  Stick a face mask on.  Ate a pizza, ice cream, milkshake and considering whether you’re still ‘treating yourself’ by having a packet of vegan chicken nuggets?  Stick a face mask on, make yourself feel better… And then eat the nuggets.

I’m not gonna’ bore you about the details of the Amie Deep Cleansing Mask cos’ you can read all of those details here.  But let us have a chat about Magnanimity.  Sit down young one, I’m about to tell you a story.

This thing, alongside the Ultrabland, is perhaps the best thing I have ever bought myself, apart from Morrissey the Monstera of course.  An intense peppermint smell which matches its lush green colour, The Mask of Magnanimity by Lush is an acne-prone face, shoulder and back’s best friend.  Scoop your fingers in, lather it on, leave it for twenty minutes, do an interpretative dance routine and heeeeeeeey presto – spots are banished from yo’ face.

Unlike most Lush facemasks, this one is not fresh which means you don’t need to pop it in the fridge or use it for a certain period of time.  Plop and go whenever it tickles your pickle, it takes time to look this fancy.

So there you have it!  My winter skincare essentials.  There’s nothing shmancy in this guide, nor anything which you can’t swap that Wednesday evening red wine in Northern Quarter for – which means you can look banging on a budget.  Don’t say I never gave you anything!

Ells x


Why to make art when you are sad

(Tracy Emin, 2010)

Unfortunately, I am about as good with a paintbrush as I am at remembering whether I brushed my teeth last night.  Honestly, it is grim how many times a week I genuinely forget to splodge some toothpaste around my mouth.  So, making stereotypical art – such as painting, drawing and sculpting – might not exactly be my forte, however, I am not too bad at expelling some anger from the dark clouds which swarm above my head through the medium of words.

It is quite sadistic that sometimes I relish in feeling a little bit more than deflated because I know my creativity flourishes in a fluorescent light. Usually, I find the thoughts that leave my mind and blossom into fully-blown, functioning ideas through my dancing fingertips will be a smidge more intense.  More intense does not exactly mean ‘better’, but it does mean they have more depth, and it does mean they are deeply personal.

The personality of my writing when I have a bee buzzing around constantly in my bonnet takes on a different character.  The girl ebbs away and this out-of-body-being takes over.  I peruse back over my words and smugly smirk, thinking “wow Ella, did you really write that?”  Can I blow my own trumpet anymore here?  Go on, dare me.

Personally, I find it easy to create art when I am heartbroken, or just plain sad.  There does not even really need to be a reason for my limbs gushing invisible blue goo, I just need to see those little air bubbles popping with my sighs and I am ready to rumble.  Making art when I am sad helps so much.

It is therapeutic.  It works wonders on my mind when I can simply prattle on and a stream of words leaves my fingers.  I find that poetry is the quickest, easiest and most simplistic way of getting my emotions out into the open.  I have reams of poetry and notebooks piled high brimming with snippets of my feelings since 2013.  I, pouring my heart into something, to create another something, is really something special.

I make my best art when I am sad.   It is just a shame that I have to be this sad to create my strongest works.  The tide changes quickly and time is just the lapping wave, rinsing the sand of clues of your past.  The footprints are physically gone and the stinging memory in your mind is numbed with the constant time flow.  I know it is okay to be sad, I just have to use it to my advantage.




The thoughts that etch themselves on my eyes,
And the sensations which burn my limbs,
Caress and nestle themselves deep below the surface,
So that reality is once again be regained.

There is not a breath where I do not loath,
And there is not a taste that I do not enjoy,
By polar opposites, the tide rewrites the stars and the story,
Which I desperately attempt to swallow.

Rewrite, remake, rejuvenate, repeat,
Take away this haunting image,
No longer can I breathe, as I am wallowing in deep water.