SUBJECT apple crumble zine, 1st edition March, 2024
I decided to start this project as a way of making sure we could all stay caught up with the incredible stuff our creative and talented friends are up to. And so,
A P P L E C R U M B L E
Seemed like the obvious name to choose for me: mum makes an amazing crumble, and just like thinking about our friends and the awesome stuff they’re all up to, the taste of crumble makes me feel nostalgic. That’s what this is all about really, making somethng fun and new out of nostalgia.
Since I know everybody loves Michelle, I thought I’d give you the ingredients she uses for her crumble topping (as a special first edition treat) before we get into the good stuff inside our little catch up zine.
(Credit technically goes to Delia Smith, we’d be hopeless without her, but the nostalgia credit remains with Michelle)
The day after I interviewed Jeremy Corbyn, I got a belly button piercing
Following a captivating conversation about the future of Israel and Palestine and the direction of the Labour Party, I travelled to Leeds with my friends, Ellie and Lily, and got a green gemmed belly button piercing I’d like to quickly add it was a case of correlation not causation - Jeremy didn’t persuade me to get a belly button piercing My point is, the duality of women is so bizarre and riddled with juxtapositions and awkward encounters, it’s basically modern art
The political world is so women coded.
So the night before interviewing Jeremy, I planned on having a relaxing evening, going over my notes, maybe reading my book, watching some F1 highlights, perhaps Instead, Ellie, Lily and I all sat in our living room and debriefed over the week we had just experienced We talked about feelings of loneliness, despair and emptiness Admittedly, Ellie was actually feeling fine before we bogged them down with our own myriad of feelings. It was a concoction of joint melancholy and pain, and for the most part, by sharing the trials and tribulations of life, we felt better about the future. But there’s still a lingering tinge of not feeling good enough in the present and dreading the unknowns of the future.
As our Lorde once said, I’m 19 and I’m on fire (if you look hard enough, you will find it in the Bible).
Some of us are half way through university - as my academic supervisor likes to continuously inform us - and the realities of “real life” are beginning to set in. As third and fourth years look to the next chapter, most of us are relishing in the comfort that we have at least one more year at university, but that ticking time bomb of our final years, has been set. The grind culture during university, however, mimics the grim reality of life after uni.
Life after uni looks uncertain for many Most of us won’t be able to afford to stay in the cities we are currently in, and the realisation that we might have to live with our parents again, is quite terrifying So, at least for me, the objectives at the moment are to gain as much experience as possible before the end of uni, so that I can land myself in the dream corporate world and live happily ever after
But that grind mentality is burdened by the many, not the few.
The realities of uni as a working class woman is to spend hours at a zero-hour job, helping the already-super rich, get even more rich, whilst the better off amongst my peers seem to be assuming internships and work experience across the world, and have outlandish opinions about why the working class is just lazy And I hate to say it, but I doubt anything will change after university
Is university just a blueprint before the “real” world?
For me, Girlhood encompasses the complexities, subtleties and intricacies of life that haunt most of us and serve us little to no purpose. Girlhood to me, is partly staying at a dead-end, emotionally and physically draining waitressing job just to see the fit chef who asks you how you’ve been and tells you you’re doing a great job. Girlhood is meeting Zarah Sultana high on cold and flu medicine. Girlhood is running home after a night out with keys in between your fingers and getting neck strain from looking over your shoulder too much. Girlhood is cursing your mum for trying her best. Girlhood is spending so much time focused on your future that you end up just feeling lost.
The fear and excitement. The confusion and clarity. Our whole identities are built on the fragile perception of our surroundings, and it has dictated nearly every decision we have made and shaped our view on new opportunities
I guess, at the end of the day, girlhood is the girl never really escaping her childhood.
“I don’t know what it is like to not have deep emotions Even when I feel nothing, I feel it completely” - Sylvia Plath MillieSimon:the‘realitiesofreallife’arebeginningtosetin
Charlotte Coultharde-Steer
My mother is constantly surprised
By the goodness of the world
I don’t understand it really
She is living proof of humanity and Every day she cares Not just for me
But for anyone
An old sick man
She delivers him soup
Always a stack of cards to send Meals to cook for people
When it’s too much
She was surprised
When they all came for her
When she was lost
She shouldn’t have been, She is an army on her own
Of course one raised behind her
5 boys get on a bus.
they look like a bunch of nerds, all talking quietly amongst themselves, anxious not to disrupt the girl with the headphones, the gentle rocking of the floor.
tonight they’ll go to boy number 1’s house and get as stoned as they can with the little they’ve got.
their brains have been going non stop for weeks, essay, after lecture, after study group, day, after day, after day.
they’ve got a den set up in his garden, all kitted out with beanbags and blankets and bad drawings all over the walls.
that’s where they go when they need a break; when they need to not be people with potential anymore.
boy number 2 needs it the most. he just got a C in his assignment and he’s already anticipating the subtle disappointment in his mothers eyes. her only child, letting her down.
doesn’theknow?he’ssmartenoughtobebetterthan this. smartenoughtobebetterthanher. intime,hewillbe; hiswellpayingjobandlovingfamilywillmakeherproudoneday, justnotyet.
boynumber3doesn’thavetoworryaboutthingslike that. he’satthetopofhisclass, justlikehealwaysis. he’salwaysworking,butit’sneverreallyhard, histeacherloveshim;thinkshe’sspecial. andwhenheseesherafterclassshegiveshimspecialtreatment. tellinghestaysatherflatattheweekends, hisparentshe’swithoneoftheboys, whyeventhoughtheyneverask. wouldthey?he’sdoingwell.
boy number 4 is sat next to him as they arrive at their stop. he sighs through his nose; he never wants to get off this bus, not when their arms are pressed up together like this, making all the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
he’ll never stop loving him. not really.
even when he’s a professor, working back at the same university they’re all at now. when he’s successful and respected and fulfilled that potential, there’ll still be that ache.
boy number 5 isnt just a nerd, he’s a genius; one of those people who could do anything. but he doesn’t want anything, so he ends up doing nothing instead.
40 years from now he’ll still be working in the co-op, and the others won’t hear from him anymore. if he’d have stayed in education he could have cured a disease, or been to the moon. what a waste.
Recently I’ve been spending a lot of time with my flat, all connecting somewhat with our inner child We’ve been building blanket forts, having movie nights, and baking sweet little treats (perhaps too many). Besides this we’ve been at least attempting to act our age; regularly going out clubbing, drinking a little too much, and pulling all-nighters at the library The very cliche of university life Outside of being overtly more social than I usually am, I’ve been spending most my time in my room being able to devote myself to my hobbies: painting, crocheting, discovering more music and building my playlists This term especially, I ve really enjoyed having more peaceful moments to myself as the suns been out
Contributedagouache paintingandrediscovering romanticisingthelittlethings
