Why David Bowie meant so much to me


This morning I awoke to an alarming amount of Whatsapp and private Facebook messages, alerting me to the fact that David Bowie had passed away in his sleep at 69, after an ongoing fight with cancer. So, I firstly checked extensively that it wasn’t a hoax – and then when I saw that it was true, tears started streaming down my face and I couldn’t stop them.

I didn’t know David Bowie personally, but he shaped my life and inspired the person I am today in every sense. I will try and put into words, how this one man who didn’t know me, was so ingrained in my world.

The Goblin King


I remember seeing David Bowie for the first time in the Labyrinth, and I remember really really fancying him. I thought he was the most charismatic and beautiful man I’d ever seen. But not only that – the way he spoke to Sarah, he was the most intense and flamboyant man I’d ever seen and I was in love with him. But, most of my friends liked boys from boy bands and here I was obsessing over a man with make up, a mullet, waistcoat and eye-catching bulge in leggings.

Everything I’ve done,
I’ve done for you.
I move the stars for no one.

Re-defining sexuality 

As someone who doesn’t really identify with sexuality, as in I can’t put myself into a category- David Bowie’s own ambiguous sexuality has always been  a comfort to me. He has come out as gay, said he’s bisexual, married women- sexuality to David Bowie is fluid and doesn’t need to be defined – because who the fuck cares!!!!

His music 

I have always felt strange and odd. But, when I listen to David Bowie’s music I feel like I’m connected to all the other strange and odd humans in this world. He created a new genre of music, he is completely different to any other artist that I’ve ever heard and the second I heard ‘life on mars’ i felt like there was a place for me on the planet and people like me, people who were different.

My best friend and I bonded over our love of Bowie, we would blast out ‘Dancing in the street’ before a night out, we sang it after our final year of uni exams outside the exam room. His music bought people together and made you do silly dancing.

His music has always comforted me in any situation that I’ve needed it. Whether I’m moving away to London and I need to hear ‘Changes’ or if I’m feeling disconnected and ‘Starman’ comforts me, if I’m sad and I want to cry ‘heroes’ gets out all my emotions. I can go on and on about each song but there are too many.

David Bowie didn’t know me, but I knew him and he changed my life. He made me feel not afraid to be myself and to not be scared of making a bold choices,  be it fashion, hair, a glittery face- just do it! He also taught me to be open and accepting of everyone and respect their differences. He also made it ok not to take any shit from anyone who disagrees with your life choices: See him shoot down these presenters and how he isn’t afraid to tell people when he doesn’t want to do something or talk about things.

I love the sheer amount of people who are paying their respects to this legend today, he touched the hearts of so many people, looking on Spotify I can see you all honoring him by playing his songs all day.

Thank you David Bowie, for the music, the fashion, the sass, the colour, the goblin king and for being a true icon.

Look up here, I’m in heaven
I’ve got scars that can’t be seen
I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen
Everybody knows me now

Look up here, man, I’m in danger
I’ve got nothing left to lose
I’m so high, it makes my brain whirl
Dropped my cell phone down below
Ain’t that just like me?

By the time I got to New York
I was living like a king
Then I used up all my money
I was looking for your ass

This way or no way
You know I’ll be free
Just like that bluebird
Now, ain’t that just like me?

Oh, I’ll be free
Just like that bluebird
Oh, I’ll be free
Ain’t that just like me?

Rest in peace Goblin King





Finding my happy


So, I’m in a bit of a rut today. I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness today.  So I did what anyone would do, I refused to wear clothes for the day and have been wondering around my house in a naked feral state- complaining/contemplating/pondering/crying/laughing.

Am I happy?

I have to really think about this, and I think the answer is …sometimes. There is just way too many things to consider when answering this question. Five come to mind:

Am I in love?

Am I surrounded by great people?

Do I do what I love?

Am I proud of myself?

Do I go to sleep each day feeling like I’ve made a difference?

I can only say yes to two of those questions. I am more in love than I’ve ever been, and this has been my main source of happiness for the past two years – but if your relationship is the only thing that makes you happy, think about how happy you can be when you address the other questions.

The people I surround myself with has changed a lot – particularly this year. I am old enough now to understand that you can cut toxic people out of your life. It’s actually very easy. Also, it’s very simple to find your true friends as they are the one who message you first or just check in – even if it’s been months. I don’t see a lot of my friends but one special person (Charlotte) sent me a  Birthday and Christmas card this year and it really touched my heart to know I was on her mind. Those are the types of people that make me happy – I have cut out the draining friends that add no value to my happiness.

Doing what you love is hard because you have rent and bills. But if I took that away and addressed what I do for 9 hours a day 5 days a week it seems crazy not to be in love with what you do. I don’t have a bad job but do I make a difference? Am I proud? No. In the grand scheme of things I don’t. But I want to. This is not me – I am Kiri Babbo and Kiri Babbo does not settle for being part of the rat race- blending into the background.  Life is short and you have to try to do the things you love. To be in love with every single day- not dreading Mondays but wanting to dry hump Monday in the face every week! 

So I enrolled on a few courses, joined some charities – acting, make- up, novel writing, cookery classes – to try and find the thing that makes me happy. I will try one new thing a week in my quest for finding my happy and document it as I go – for anyone who is interested. Starting this week I have enrolled in a make-up course YAY.

Hopefully by the end of this year I will have found the thing I love to do – I can go to sleep every night excited for what the next day will bring – I will hopefully be – completely happy 🙂



Living with Anxiety


I don’t usually write serious posts. In fact I’ve been so busy with work I haven’t posted much at all this past year. I’m going to write about something that changed my life in every way… anxiety. If you have never had it before than it can seem silly and you might think ‘why can’t you just chill out and stop worrying.?’ If you have had it, you know that it’s the worst feeling ever.

The girl I used to be

I used to be a bit a crazy, going to clubs, I loved socialising, going exploring, meeting new people and I was confident. However during my last year at university, things started to change. I felt sick all the time, I had headaches, I thought I was going to faint and the only place I felt safe from this was in the safety of my bedroom on my own. The thought of going out, made me scared of feeling sick and fainting, so I stayed in my safe place. Then, came the constant fear of what if what’s happening to me is a brain tumour, what if I’m dying? It’s at this point that my anxiety spiraled out of control.

Loosing friends

It’s hard to be friends with someone who is constantly bailing on your plans, constantly thinks they’re ill and would rather spend all day in their room watching repeats of One Tree Hill than go out for drinks with you. Also, it would have been harder baring in mind I was their go-to girl for a night on the drink. So, I lost contact with friends and I found it hard to explain to them why. They felt I didn’t make an effort and I would ‘classically’ bail on a night out, in reality I would have done anything to make myself feel normal enough to be with them.

Panic attacks

If you have ever had one, you know that they are horrific. You genuinely think it’s either never going to end or you’re going to die. My head goes light, you shake and you cannot breath properly. The world closes in around you and your heat beat won’t stop racing. Eventually, it goes but it drains you and you end up crying as a release. But then there is the added joy of being anxious about having a panic attack thus causing a panic attack… eugh it’s exhausting.


Not surprisingly, cutting yourself off from the world and living in a constant anxious fear can make you depressed. It got to the point, where I genuinely couldn’t see the point of being on this planet anymore. I didn’t see anyone so no-one would miss me, and I wanted a way out of the constant dizziness, the heart palpation’s and the feeling like death every day. I locked myself away and I couldn’t see a way out of it.

Finding love  

I met my boyfriend nearly two years ago, and it took me a long time to actually get the confidence to go and meet him. I had to self medicate with wine through the whole date. But, after a while he took my mind of my anxiety. We went out together and eventually it seemed like it wasn’t really an issue anymore, like I could do anything as long as he is with me. When I had feelings of anxiety I could identify with it and stop it before it escalated.


Well right now, it’s hit me like a tonne of bricks! My anxiety has mutated into something I hate. And what’s worse is that it’s no longer just myself that it affects. My boyfriend gets the brunt of it. I’ve started a new job and I find it near impossible to make friends because my social anxiety either makes people feel uncomfortable or I don’t want to go for after work drinks or I don’t see why people would want to be friends with me. So, I’m starting to feel very insecure and I have very little self-worth which makes wonder why the hell my boyfriend is with me. Then comes the anxiety and panic attacks of him leaving to be with someone who is more fun, more sociable, thin, beautiful. Is he going to get fed up of me always being self-depreciating? hello… panic attack. Obviously, I know that the depression I feel now is caused by the anxiety so it’s not as bad as in the beginning.

I’m just worried that this cycle will never end


It’s hard to figure out how to push through this state when you’re in the middle of it. But, I’ve made contact with a councilor to try and get myself out of it. I hope that I don’t end up pushing my boyfriend away, I know he’ll be supportive as long as he can see I’m trying. I am also going to see my family as there is nothing like the cuddles from a two year old niece to inspire you into getting better 🙂

The Long Walk Home


This angry rant comes from the most horrid walk home from work, that has raised a lot of questions in my mind. To set the scene, I had just got off the tube and was engrossed in my book, so as I made my way along the street home, I was continuing to read. Clearly, I’m being no bother to anyone, I’m not even looking at people. Now, I have just moved house so, it is one straight road that takes me about 15 minutes to bumble along it. The main road I walk down, however today was full of mostly groups of men in work vans trying to make their way home in bumper-to-bumper queues, travelling at 5mph due to the after work 5pm rush. In this time I received five comments, a cat noise and car beep. So, here’s my problem.

Comment number 1.

“Geek!” Some teenagers. I walked past some kids getting off the bus and they genuinely shouted geek at me because I was reading a book. Now, where do I start? This little girl, who followed every word it seems with “bruv” should probably spend more time reading books rather than getting fingered by Gaz, Mike and Daz whilst drinking wkd. Not worth the retaliation as this little fuck stain isn’t going to be going further than the back alley of Cannons Park in life.

Comment number 2.

“I like your hair it’s cool” – Hipster in van. Ok, that was quite nice. I smiled and said “thank you.”

Comment number 3

“I’ve seen better legs on a coffee table” – really fat, gross sweaty man in a fiesta with heroin-ridden looking friend. This over-sized giant creature, slimed over his friend and shouted “oi” first before he delivered this… erm… I guess insult? Now, this one pissed me off. But, I was more pissed off at myself. Because it did upset me. I couldn’t understand why someone I don’t know would want to say horrible things to me. I do have massive insecurities about my body, especially my legs and I hate to say it, but for a minute, I thought that the rank sweaty man had a point. Why did I have my big fat legs on display? But, now that I’m home and I’ve thought about it. Fuck you, you big giant turd blossom. What gives anyone the right to say nasty things to strangers. Especially when you’re so fat your mounds of flesh are rolling out of your car window. I didn’t feel the need to pop my head in his car and tell him I could make a lifetime supply of soap using his fat mounds. Horrible slug!

Comment number 4

Wanna sit on my face, dahling? – topless and toothless scabby boy/man. No!, No-one does. I’m pretty certain, these types of guys think that they are quite charming. Maybe, once some lovely skag head replied with “alright then babe, might be a gammy and knotty down there, but i’ll give it go.” And now he thinks, one day someone is going to take him up on his offer again. Who knows!

Comment number 5

“Eugh, look at her tattoo” – basic bitch with ratty extensions, dark lipliner and bad eyebrows. I don’t know with this one, like, you don’t like my tattoos, I don’t like your giant, black slug-like eyebrows. Again, I managed not to come over to your car and ask you if you’re sponsored by Nike. If I can do it, you can just do it love!

So, why am I writing this in a blog post. I’m a feisty bitch when I want to be so why didn’t I say anything to these people? A couple of days ago I was walking home and a car of guys went past and shouted at me “nice tits” so I stuck my finger up and told them to “fuck off.” They drove off and I thought that was the end of it, but they actually turned around at the round about and kerb crawled next to me the entire walk home shouting things like “do you know who you’re talking to? If you did you’d be on your knees sucking my dick I tell ya” and “I’d fucking rape her for back chatting if she wasn’t so fucking ugly.” Needless to say, it was really scary. I felt safe enough knowing that I was on a main road and nearly home, but it was embarrassing and I felt violated. I am finally a point in my life where I’m ok with my body and the way I look, but the more things like this happen, I take a step back. Wondering if they are right, am I fat? Am I ugly? But, I know these people’s opinion doesn’t matter and they do it for the power and control. And I wont let anyone have power or control over me, especially when you’re a pathetic coward making comments from the safety of your car. What losers!


Happy Halloween, Oh you’ve come as Prostitute


As darkness creeps over the land, for one night the undead return to life to terrify the living. Is was Halloween night, when out out the darkness appeared…… oh a girl in her underwear, backcombed hair and some cat ears, cool. Why oh why, does halloween bring out so much slut? I know I’m supposed to know the slut rule, thanks to Mean Girls, but what does dressing up as a slutty nurse with breasts bulging out the top and visible labia hanging out the bottom have to do with halloween.  Oh wait, add a little bit of fake blood on the lip… BOSH, HALLOWEEN SLUTTY NURSE! I enjoy when girls add a little creativity to their outfit, play with their make up, be sexy even, but we don’t need to walk into a pub and see everyones gunt. Vampires can be sexy yes, sexy! But I haven’t read or seen many vampire books or films where they wear their finest Ann Summers lingerie out to seduce their victim.

We all know that horror of trying to enjoy a halloween cocktail but gagging every five minutes because the girl opposite is sat on a chair in a fishnet, tiny dress with flesh pouring through the holes, vagina most likely making a suction on the seat (I think I even made myself dry-heave a little then).

I’m not trying to girl-bash, but come on ladies you’re giving our gender a bad name. Why can’t you show off that you can be more than a pair of tits in a pleather dress which came in package entitled ‘sexy zombie’. I’m certain you come across as more interesting when you make the effort to be creative at halloween. This in no way means you have to de-sexualise yourself, infact there are so many beautiful, quirky, sexy halloween looks that you can try, that are simple too. I will link to some inspiration after, it’s just we don’t want to get a glimpse of your uterus every time you fall over screaming’ ah ma gawd i’mmmmm so drunk’ or have your nipple stab our arms when we walk past in a crowded bar.

Happy Halloween!

Personally, I think the broken doll look is incredible – http://www.buzzfeed.com/juliegerstein/33-totally-creepy-makeup-looks-to-try-this-halloween


‘Get yaaaaaa rat out’ and other such delights, that make women go wild for cat callers ;)


I don’t know about you, but I find nothing more attractive and complementary than a man yelling ‘nice tits’ or ‘I’m gunna fuck your ear hole’ from across the road. Seriously guys, turn down the charm it’s too arousing. How would we ever know if we are looking good, unless a suave young dude saunters past and comments ‘she’d get it’? ‘Who me? I’d get it? Oh stop it you, that just put a spring in my step until next Summer. Thank you sir.’

Sorry let’s just skip back to reality. Guys, why do you feel the need to say things to women who pass you in the street? Do you think you are being charming, a bit of a lad perhaps? Let me tell you what goes through our brains when you do this. We find you repugnant! We are embarrassed for you, we think you’re desperate and cocky. You are not the kind of men we find attractive, you are not a LAD, you are a poor-excuse for a man trying to exert some kind of power over a woman walking down the street and making her feel threatened NOT COMPLEMENTED. You really are giving your gender a bad name, because there are 1000 nice gentlemen who would never catcall a woman on the street to the scabby 50 that that do.

I was once walking home, and there were two young pretty girls walking ahead of me, when two guys walked past and said ‘you’ve got nice tits, get em out’ to them. My heart sank, the poor girls couldn’t even walk down the street in a nice dress without being shouted at. But, to my dismay one of the girls called out ‘buy Nuts magazine next week, my tits are in them babe.’ Great… that’s just great. So, are these women encouraging these vile men? Do these guys catcall the female population because for every 100 dirty looks they get, one might turn around and respond with gratitude?

My ex used to tell me that it was flattering and I should feel complimented as they wouldn’t do it if I was ugly. Sure. I feel so humble when you tell me ‘I’m going to smash your pasty.’ That’s not intimidating at all. What great banter I’m having with these two chavy strangers in this alley. Cheers lads!

The problem is, these men are not doing it to express their desire to ‘smash your back door in’, they do it for power. They like feeling in control and the feeling of empowerment they believe they are getting. Which is why they switch when you respond badly or just ignore them. I give a disgusted look, so they know I don’t think it’s ok to talk to me like that. It has been meet with a variety of responses for example, a delightful scaffolder geezer shouted ‘oi sexy blue head’ at me I gave a dirty look he responded with ‘I hope you get run over by a car, you tramp.’ Another instance, I gave a repulsed look to a man who had just told me, he would fuck me any night of the week, of which he retorted with ‘fucking look at you, you sket, don’t look at me like that you ugly cunt.’ Such a keeper, someone pass me a condom. This is the kind of response you can expect when a dimwit’s power is challenged or not encouraged.

I wish I was brave enough to ask why these select few men feel like need to shout things at girls/women, why they feel the need to intimidate them, why they feel the need to drag down the reputation of the many many gentlemen out there?

To these certain idiots, do us all a favour and just shut the fuck up. Keep your comments to yourself, don’t tell us to ‘smile’ or ‘cheer up’ just shut the fuck up and go and read a book.

Sincerely all the women (except Nuts boobs girl) and ALL THE GENTLEMEN.


When you’re from a small town


So I grew up in a very small town, where everyone knows everyone and everyone thinks they know everything about you. I have compiled a list of some stereotypical aspects of living in a tiny town.

1. Small towns have fewer people, so that one good looking guy/girl gets hailed as an unattainable beauty whose name becomes immortalized and treasured as the fittest person in [insert town here]. Everyone knows their name and if per chance you manage to pull this creature, you will be met by a round of cheers in that one local pub that you all go to. If you go out with this person you will be met with ‘she can do so much better’, ‘why does he like her, she’s a sket’ or a more friendly ‘lucky sod.’

2. That one local pub! Everyone goes to this pub! All day, everyday same place, same time. Same night out, same faces, same goings on. The barmaid knows what you want and it’s on your favourite place at the bar before you’ve even plonked yourself down.

3. So you meet a girl and you really like her (you met at that one club bar in town), you start talking. Your conversation naturally turns to working out how many of the same people you know, then you work out five of your mates have already dipped their willies in her. Annoying yes, but you’ve already popped your sausage in her sister, her cousin and three of her mates, so you decide to date her anyway. It’s pretty hard to find a S.O in a small town that hasn’t been with at least someone you already know.

4. People dress the same. It’s not their fault! It’s because your town has approx one fashion store and you all have to buy your clobber from there. I’ve just moved to a new small town where most people seem to buy their garbs from the Saturday chav market – think neon, leggings and hats with SIIIIIICCK written on them.

5. The family name!!!!!! No matter what small town it is! They have a hard-family name that gets thrown around when people need get out of bother. ‘If you hit me yeah, I’ll get one of the [insert hard-family name here] to sort you out. If I went up to someone in London and said ‘I’m a Babbage mate’ they would pat my head and say ‘good for you poppet’ – lies, they’ll barge me out of the way without a care in the world.

6. The town crazy! Cities like to ignore the weirdos, but small towns make them legends. They become local celebrities!

7. In small towns time appears to never pass. A girl can walk into a bar and then someone puts their head down says’oh shit it’s my ex,’ ‘oh mate, shall we leave?’ ‘Yeah I dated her for three weeks in year 10 and got with her mate, so she hates me.’ ‘Dude you’re fucking 30 now…. time to move on!’ On the subject of…. when towns are tiny, gossip is rife and time doesn’t lapse, you have to be careful not to get punched ten years after slipping your digits in someone elses bird.

8. On the flip side, living in a small town, means you actually make the most solid friendships that last forever and you spend your time in that one bar, slagging it and all inhabitants off insisting you are nothing like the others.

small town