The things you Remember

The things you Remember

It’s funny what you remember – and what you forget. Especially on days when the world shifts. I remember growing up in Dublin. I remember being surrounded by love; my family was a small unit, but a solid one. It was us against the world and the weapon we had to...
Debbie Payne 25.03.70 – 24.04.01

Debbie Payne 25.03.70 – 24.04.01

I don’t have many photos of Debbie. That’s cos she filled my world in a period before we captured every single moment of our lives via smartphones; and that fact – that timing – breaks my fucking heart. I’d love a billion pointless duplications of Debbie on dropbox,...
Mrs Farrell’s Christmas Cake Redux

Mrs Farrell’s Christmas Cake Redux

I wrote this piece four years ago. It’s become a tradition to repost it at this time of year, so I’m sharing it again with some updates. I hope you enjoy it. When I was a child – without fail – November smelled of cinnamon, nutmeg, jewel-bright candied carbuncles of...
Couture Kart

Couture Kart

Me, in the late seventies. Re-enacting a scene from “Whatever happened to Baby Jane?” with my father. It would be twenty years before I’d drive again. Noticeable is the open doors of some of the houses; nobody locked their doors then. Also the almost total absence of...

Style For Living

My mother loved Fashion. More than fashion – which was prone to lapses of taste unacceptable to her – she loved STYLE. She grew up in Dublin at a time when most people were intensely proud and incredibly poor. Money, when it was there, was for essentials. Essentials...