Photo by Tommy Ton / Jak & Jil

 I will always remember, one day in primary school, waking up and realising that my body had changed. The embarrassment of being developed and womanly when you're still trying to understand who you are is enough to make any ten year old shamefully self aware.

The moment I realised I had boobs, I remember thinking, what do I do now? My little lumps were apparently something to be proud of, but as someone who was constantly walking around in my underwear, they posed quite the disruption. And the memory of that tight fitting, burgundy long sleeved -- yes, it was impractical for the tropics of Guyana, but I didn't give a damn, I had to wear it as it was oh, so Cher, from Clueless -- dress that my father cut in front of my eyes, because I refused to give them up, just sealed my social demise even more. Daddy, that dress was part of my identity! Parents never understand. I sulked for the rest of the year, but was still well behaved for fear that he might get his hands on my other 'inappropriate' gems.

As June came around it was time to go on our annual summer trip to the States. It was apparent that I needed some support for my little lumps, which seemed to be growing at an accelerated rate. So, my mother took me to buy a 'proper' bra, and thank heavens for that. My father had already had to deal with my 'first visit', as mother was away on business, and I don't think I could've handled his meddling in any more of my personal affairs. The trip was a success.We got a set of soft cotton training bras, which I was so grateful for, and was very much empowered by. It held me firmly in place, and my mother assured me that these will last me a while.

Summer was the best. I grew more comfortable with my new pair, and realised that my swimsuits fitted more comfortably, as I finally filled out areas that were meant to be filled out. My naive confidence also nearly got me into trouble, as I thought my breasts gave me a green light to dress like the adults. My Aunt was not too pleased when she saw me trying on her clothes without her permission, but I soon defused it by reverting back to my childish naivety. The girls and I made a quick exit from her room, and continued on our merry way to enjoy the rest of summer.
Then, tragedy struck! My little lumps were now a cup size too large for my new bras, which meant another trip to the stores before we left the country. I was just getting used to them, and now, as I did, they too had grown up. Initially, I celebrated their graduation from primary school to high school. Wait till I show the girls at school.
Then, I got to school. I had the largest breasts (or I felt as though I did) in my year, and in school anything that gets you noticed, especially a body part, meant social isolation, mocking, and glares. It was only a matter of time before I was denigrated, and the thought scared me. Yet, the glares, mocking and isolation never came. Rather, it was the boys. All I had to protect me from further attention was a good bra from JCPenny's.

My Bs magically grew and grew, like beanstalks on steroids. I was praying that Jack would come down and cut it down at the root to stop it from growing much further. And I thought he did, until two months ago when I went for another fitting as my bras were not quite fitting 'properly'. It was official, another size up from DDs to Es. The saleswoman in M&S asked if I would be buying any bras, and I said no. I wanted to get fitted and then stalk out the latest ethical lingerie brand.

That night, I went home and scoured the internet for ethical lingerie brands. There were loads. I couldn't believe my luck. The first site I went to was LuvaHuva, which had the most beautiful chantilly lace bras. Only problem was the bras only went up to a C-cup. Then I checked out another side, and the same dilemma occurred. I must've looked at fifteen sites, only to come across the same problem. Ethical Bras did not come in sizes that would fit my womanly bosom, so I went back to Marks & Spencer and bought the bras I had tried on. Perfect fit!
I was annoyed though. Not with M&S, but with the ethical fashion industry. I'm not considered full figured or curvy, but I do have breasts, which did not seem to be synonymous with ethical lingerie. It reminded me of the dress my father chopped up, and how they were not harmonious with my breasts as well.

A few years ago, a photo popped up (ON FACEBOOK no less) of me walking the catwalk around the age of 10. I was wearing my floral long sleeved dress, which was the sister to that darling burgundy dress my father butchered (to teach me a lesson I obviously didn't learn at the time). All I could see were my pointy little lumps protruding grotesquely from the dress, in an awkward display of my eminent womanhood. The fashion show was at my childhood Catholic Church no less -- I've been cursed ever since. As a child you are too self-involved to see it, but now that my otherness to my ten year old self is prominent, I can see why my father was driven to madness.

Today, I think back to how important a good bra was back then, and much more important it is now. Even my father was aware of the importance of the perfect fit. I am now comfortable, somewhat, with my girls. They still get in the way of my athletic activities and my ability to wear that strappy D&G dress I've been eying for years. So, the memories of my internal battles still manifest today in the importance I place on fit, and that starts with the very foundation - proper underwear. If only proper underwear was synonymous with my ethical lifestyle.

Every month Mr P and I take a trip to visit his folks at their countryside home. Mr P's father picked us up from the train station, as usual, and drove us along the familiar bramble and forest-filled route. However, this time it was different. The hedges seemed fuller, and covered with black pox that was unfamiliar to me. "The hedges are full this year" his dad announced. "Yes, this year there is a bumper crop. We have to go berry picking," followed Mr P. EEEEKKK! I was so excited. I had never gone berry picking before, and then berry picking at the side of the road? Get out of town!!! (literally)

The next day, Mr P's sister arrived from London. We decided that the day would start off with a round of golf (any excuse), then we would go to the hedgerow near their parents' house to do some berry picking. However, as we were about to pull into the driving range the hedges that cloaked the entrance to the range were also covered by the very treasures we were seeking. After swinging with great expertise we rushed to the hedges to pick away. The spoils were overwhelming, but we didn't stop. We went back to the house, and continued the berry picking there. I made a pie, and packed loads to take back to London to eat with my homemade granola. 

It's Bloody Cold! Winter is Coming! Winter is Coming, and your girl is not too happy about it. It was so cold yesterday, that I decided to work out of bed. I shouldn't admit to such things, but its true. The protection my covers gave me was too good to pass up. Our central heating and unethical single-paned windows offered limited sanctuary from the elements, which meant that I could still feel a draft on my neck, toes and fingers. So I, unashamedly, crawled back into bed, under the covers, and continued to work. Ahhh...that's the life, one might say, but not really...

Emma came up with the idea of posts based on "Sh*t from your cupboard," with her Make it yourself bleach, now I'm sharing with you my 'make it yourself' hair masks that I use fortnightly. As winter is coming, my hair needs as much protection and moisture as it can get, so I turn to my hair mask chart. This time of year, my hair can be dry and crunchy (yeah, that sounds as bad as it is), so I use a combination of hair masks after I shampoo. 

For starters, bananas and avocados are amazing for dry hair. Unfortunately, I hate bananas--the smell, texture, taste (I'm cringing just thinking about it)--so I avoid it as much as I can, and avocados don't grow in the UK, so that's a no go. Instead, I use Mayo, Honey, and Eggs (sometimes). In addition, I add 1 tablespoon of coconut, jojoba, almond or olive oil for additional moisture and nourishment. For my most recent mask I added Rhassoul clay which acts as a cleanser for the scalp and a moisturiser.  I then put a shower cap on and give it 20-30 minutes to seep into the roots and shafts. [Do not shampoo or condition afterwards]. My hair always feels heavenly, and my curls are defined and soft...aaaahhhh...just the thought is making me want to make a hair mask now. What about you? 

To make things easier, I've included this hair mask guide for all types of hair problems. These can be used for every hair type, so let us know which hair mask you try and how it turns out.

Stay tuned for photos of my next hair mask, which will see me experimenting with using coconut milk & honey

I love this compelling short film by People Tree on the issue of financing for small business in developing countries. It is something I am focussing on in my work in Matura and is one of the biggest issues rural entrepreneurs face - finding enough capital to start or expand a business. Investing even a small amount can be very high risk to a small business owner and the Fair Trade principle of 50% advance payments certainly make a huge difference to producers but, is it a sustainable business practice from the buyers point of view? What do you think?

My biggest fear for my wedding was the amount weddings usually cost. The thought scared me, and with my plan of having a destination wedding and two receptions being enough to make me question whether I was really having a sustainable wedding or not, it was all getting too real. So I took to the world wide web for answers on how much weddings usually cost, and how I could make sure that I was within our budget. But, EEK! What was our budget? Where should we begin? Yes, Mr P is also Mr Financial Advisor, but his advice would've been something I didn't want to hear.

L-R: JUMPER: Letter Sweater by Chinti & Parker | NECKLACE:  Coin Necklace by Michelle Lowe-Holder | SUNGLASSES: Eco Unit T. by Colin Leslie | SKIRT:  Pouf Skirt by Ace & Jig | BAG: Leather Neven Hobo Bagby Maiyet | SHOES: Kente Steed Shoe by A. Sauvage for Dr. Martens

We love good ol' fashion American-style pancakes--fluffy, and moreish beyond belief. Then add fresh berries and some organic maple syrup all the way from good ol' Canada (eh!) and you've won me over. Sunday Brunch success!

Starting a blog is as much about sharing YOU as it is about sharing what you love. For someone so protective of their “self” this is a journey that I find at times straining and at others liberating. There is often this confusion around sharing what you feel you should be rather than who you really ARE. Truth is a powerful thing, but recognising your own truth and being able to communicate it to a potentially critical audience is something I sometimes struggle with.  

Cleaning is what actually sparked all this philosophical thinking about who I am, and what I share. I hate cleaning, but I treasure my surroundings being clean, and clear. It gives me peace of mind. When I moved into my own space a few weeks ago, Julian and I spent a lot of time painting, scrubbing, and cleaning. A week after we moved in the tiles under the bed exploded and the whole place had to be retiled. DUST SHEETS people!! Never retile without them. We did, and so we found ourselves sweeping and mopping and dusting, all over again. 

So - and I am getting to the point - all this cleaning, and all my hatred for cleaning, meant that I reached for the toughest, baddest looking cleaners on the supermarket shelf. And after the couple of weeks of bleach and disinfectant and drain unblocker, and limescale remover I stopped and realised I wasn’t being true to myself. Pushing these hardcore chemicals down the drain just didn’t sit right with me, it doesn’t reflect my value system or what I want to share through the Conscience Collective. It was madness brought on by my need for my new space to be perfect immediately, but part of that is being perfectly me within that space. 

Last Sunday saw our first collaborative effort with Stephanie Rydle for Creative25*. We shot the initial images for our Eco Friendly Sh*t from Your Cupboard series, a series of posts about how to clean your home, and your body, without harsh chemicals using sh*t you gots lying around. Ok so you may have to go shopping, and maybe we should have called it Eco Friendly Sh*t from the Grocery, but it’s all simple stuff that’s kinda fun to make and feels really good to use. 

First experiment, environmentally friendly bleach made with only three ingredients; fresh lemon juice, hydrogen peroxide (6%) and filtered water. I’m not one for measurement, so pour the hydrogen peroxide and lemon juice into a spray bottle, add water and use! It works best on stains and when whites start turning grey if you spray it directly onto the affected area and leave for 24 hours before washing. I’ve tried adding the mixture to my wash and it wasn’t as effective. Whilst regular household bleach is great for killing everything it touches as well as stripping colour, it is terrible for us and the environment. Hydrogen peroxide actually breaks down into water and oxygen and is therefore a much less harmful alternative. It is also antibacterial and definitely strips colour from fabric so be careful when using it! Ideally you should make this mixture as you need it because hydrogen peroxide starts to break down when mixed or not stored correctly and will become ineffective.

Styling, Photography & Graphic Design by Stephanie Rydle for Creative25. *Stephanie has the most beautiful aesthetic and the keenest eye for detail and perfection, we are so excited to begin this journey of revealing truth and thoughtful living together.