Sunday, 1 May 2016

If these walls could talk... Old notes - London

I've never met the family that lives next door. I've never even seen them. Sometimes I hear voices drifting through the brick wall on the staircase side of the house. They sound decent enough. I've seen their cat. It's been sighted inside the house, too. We've since nicknamed it "ghost cat".

Sometimes I shower with the window open. It's the only shower spout with hot water and, without a fan to thin the steam, having the window pried open is a must when you're the third girl in. I really hope that the neighbors haven't seen me either... 

I wonder what they must think of this constant cycle of tall skinny girls. Do they know that it's a model agency flat? Does it ever look like a brothel? Haha - not the soup broth restaurant, Tatyana!  

It took me awhile to find the apartment when I first arrived. A simple matter of confusing the nine in the address for a six. Once I found it I was welcomed in and told there were four bedrooms each with space for one more. The attic they said was empty. 

It's a cute place that kinda mimics a dollhouse. The living room has been converted to a cozy fireplace room for three. Go straight past the staircase and there's the kitchen dining room combo. Up the creaky wood staircase are the other rooms plus our main (and mainly avoided) 'lou'. Opposite the top of the staircase is the attic spiral stair. Which everyone agrees is adorable.

I was tired and barely managed to lug my luggage to the first available room. In the other bed a just-turned-eighteen Galaxia spoke in Spanish to her family in Dominican Republic. The next day I couldn't resist moving up the spiral stairs.

And I'm glad I did because it's amazing. No patio but the windows rotate open on a middle hinge to reveal a rooftop view of the neighborhood. It's clean and quaint. A staircase that's classy but too intimidating for new arrivals - so I have it to myself. The main downside is it's lack of a door. In an already rickety house I can hear everything and I wake up with the earliest riser. Usually that's Tatyana. It's good, though, because I enjoy being a morning person. And some days I can't resist opening the window in early daylight just to sing "a dream is a wish your heart makes" from Cinderella. I wonder if that story is set in London...

So here's to you, undisclosed Fulham SW6 address #modelapartment. It's been good. A bit of a love/hate relationship, but good. 

Because I can understand where you're coming from. Despite our good intent, this constant cycle of abuse is wearing you down. What have they done to you to make you rebel so bitterly? Who was it? Which fashion season?

It's a lack of commitment on both parts. You'll have to excuse us for being slobs when we're only here for a month or a week. Now you have Ella, though, and she'll take care of you for a consistent year. 

I think we've gotten along well enough, you and I. You know I'm a scaredy cat and you easily could've kept me on timid alert through long attic nights. Speaking of cats, was it you who let the neighbor cat get in? Never mind, I guess it's not important. I hope it managed to catch our house mouse.

And admit it, you have a soft spot for me! Staying quiet when we smoked sheisha even though when we cooked Sheena's get-well-soon breakfast you set off the smoke alarm. Was it the broken fridge handle that set you off and made you permanently lock the washing machine? You poor thing, you're falling apart at the seams.

It's going to be ok. Change is healthy. Be gentle to the new girls, they have a lot to learn. This industry is harsh and I'm sure you've become an expert on diets and disorders throughout the years. Sometimes I think you enjoy pulling pranks on us, but please try to keep it to a minimum. We're judged on our appearance and need a working shower and washing machine. I'm serious about the washing machine. Please give it back.

xo and until next time :)

- Michelle C