Motherhood, Creativity, and the Quiet Irony
In early March 2020, The Sunday Times approached me for a feature in their annual Best Place to Live supplement. St Albans was selected to represent the South East. It wasn’t work-related, but I was happy to be the face of the place I call home.
The photographer arrived and took a few snaps. Anyone with a toddler knows that life can be messy, and the juggle begins the moment they’re born. This particular time in my life felt different. The newspapers were gaining momentum around COVID-19, and when the photographer suggested we head into town for some location shots, I was apprehensive about mingling with my baby and being in crowds (as an overly anxious person)—but I obliged.
Before we left, we were happily chatting and setting up the space for some home shots. As a creator and someone seeking PR content, I was adamant about expressing my identity in the home setting for the images (haha). As new mothers know, your identity shifts as you enter motherhood, and I was at that crossroads—wanting to remember who I was again.
The kitchen table represented where I would draw while Quinn was having his long lunchtime nap. The fabrics placed on the table symbolised the other life I had lived, and the flowers in the vase were a nod to what I like to buy myself—representing nature and inspiration.
What’s interesting about this shot are the little symbols of parenthood and how life can be multifaceted: the Tommee Tippee cup, the snack bowl, and the wriggling toddler. All now symbolise the utter juggle of trying to have a finger in all pies.
What’s fascinating about the article (which I’m delighted to say included my fabrics—see last slide) is its ironic twist. Just a few weeks later, St Albans—‘the best place to live’—became a ghost town. And our lovely small home became a kind of prison, with an energetic child who had just learned to run around. It was a tough time for parents with children that age.
It just goes to show—a smiley, happy photo in a national paper doesn’t always represent the full story.
Five years later, that very kitchen table became the place where I drew many of the motifs for my latest interior linens. The birds, which represent freedom and life, are a wonderful signal and link to that time. Time goes on, designs evolve, and memories shape the story behind each journey.