Sometimes you have to leave the place that built you.

I type this on the train to Cambridge as I leave London for the summer. Not forever, just long enough to give myself the space to focus on one thing: The Pink Gorilla Collective. The workshop will still be there when I get back, but it deserves a proper goodbye before it becomes something else. That building has been so much more than somewhere I work. It’s where I’ve cried, laughed, built businesses, hosted workshops, held baby showers with tattooists, filmed a TV show during lockdown and spent countless hours dreaming up ideas. It’s seen every version of me over the last few years.

The funny thing is, before it was mine, I used to stand at the back door of my little shop and look at it. I dreamed of working there one day but never imagined I’d actually be able to afford it. Then, completely out of the blue, the people renting it came into my shop and asked if I wanted to take it over because they were leaving. I couldn’t believe it. I was excited, but I also assumed there was no way I could afford somewhere that much bigger with parking. If you know London, you’ll know parking is like gold dust. Then I found out it was actually cheaper than my little shop. I still have the videos I filmed on the day I got the keys because I genuinely couldn’t believe it was mine.

Muck N Brass didn’t begin there. It started on my little balcony in 2014. Then it moved onto my dining room table until one day a lovely customer, who had bought one of my parrot pieces, offered me her shop to rent. I’d only been trading for a few months after being made redundant, so taking on a shop wasn’t exactly part of the plan. I didn’t have money behind me, but she believed in me enough to offer me a deal for the first few months, and saying yes turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I worked harder on that business than anything I’d ever done before, so when the workshop came along it felt like another impossible dream becoming reality.

Moving into the workshop completely changed my business. I started running workshops, had room to experiment and suddenly realised I didn’t have to stay in one lane. When everyone was using the same wallpaper designs for upcycled furniture, I decided I wanted something different. The only problem was I can’t paint for toffee. So I found someone who could. I had the ideas, she had the talent, and together we created something completely unique. That taught me such an important lesson. Just because you can’t physically do something yourself doesn’t mean you can’t make it happen. Know your strengths, know your weaknesses and find people who complement what you do. Don’t ever let what you can’t do stop you from chasing what you can create.

Cut to lockdown arriving and every day I went live from that workshop teaching people how to make things. Those lives eventually led to my own TV show on the Discovery Channel. If someone had told the girl making things on her balcony that was where she’d end up, I’d have laughed.

Writing this has made me realise just how much life has happened inside those walls. It has also made me realise that somewhere along the way I lost a little bit of my creative spark. I’m not dwelling on that because I genuinely feel like I’ve found it again. This next chapter feels exciting. It feels fresh. I honestly haven’t been this happy since 1987 when I somehow won a show jumping class at Pyecombe near Brighton on a horse I’d borrowed. I was the council estate horse rider who had to get a lift home in someone else’s horsebox. I still have the photograph and every single rosette from that day.

So as I write this, I’m heading off to my “summer residence”… which sounds far grander than reality! I’ll be working, probably harder than ever, but my focus is simple. The Pink Gorilla Collective and my client work. No distractions. Just creating, planning and building what comes next. Then, when I return, hopefully the build of The Wellness Tavern can finally begin. I’d love to tell you it’ll be open in October. If you know me, you’ll also know my toxic trait is believing everything takes half the time it actually does! But that’s the dream.

When I look back, every chapter of my life has started with someone giving me an opportunity and me finding the courage to say yes. From a balcony, to a dining room table, to a little shop, to the workshop I’d dreamed about for years. Now it’s time for another chapter. One I’ll always be grateful for, but one I’m finally ready to close.

Same person 

New chapter x