Editor's Letter / Blacklisted Autumn 2015

So much gratitude goes out to each and every person that buys into this dream of mine: Blacklisted. Never before have I felt such joy as I did this week while watching my baby fly out into the world to be received with open arms.

To celebrate, I'd love to share the editor's letter with you all to show my gratitude. Blacklisted has never been in better hands and I love what the future looks like right now. So to all of you taking the journey with me, enough thanks will never be said.

xx All my love

It doesn’t take long to forget where you came from.

I was reminded of this the other day when travelling through town and noticing all the “youths”. They were languidly reclining all over the public seating in the town square whilst their lookalike friends flapped around with animated hand gestures. They were probably telling them something really important such as the funky gel they had in their matted hair or the brand of socks they would be wearing had they bothered to put on the washing that morning.

I am usually quick to judge, and did so on this occasion, as the righteous thought ran through my mind, ‘They’re bringing the look of my city down!’ I showed this disdain by glaring pointedly in their direction and nearly caused a crash, as I was zipping by on my scooter at a neat 50 kilometres an hour. Needless to say, the flapping turned into a flipping of the bird, so to speak, and I hurried along, hoping their teenage brains didn’t have much recollective memory.

After a little walk to my studio, a prolonged dragging of myself up some unnecessarily long stairs, a 15 minute recovery at the top and a brief soul search, I realised I had been unnecessarily harsh.

I had once been a youth, with each hair follicle teeming with the popular gel of the time. My drop crotch pants, complete with wallet chain, tucked into my fake Converse high top boots was complemented by an array of horrible rubber arm bands and a hoodie of some sort. 

All this to say that I had forgotten where I had come from and therefore made an unvalidated judgement call on what could have been some lovely young people.

As Blacklisted moves on to bigger and better things, we will endeavour not to forget where we come from and the people who have been supporting us along the way. We wouldn’t be here without you. And for that we thank you wholeheartedly.

Rough

I am a rough friend.

I usually take the kid gloves off when dealing with my friends and they get the tough end of the stick. Unfortunately this means that I hurt and offend a few friends and have probably lost a few due to misunderstandings and impatience.

But don't the best friendships all develop when you can be your honest self and say what you want to say? When you don't have to treat the other person like some delicate china up on the shelf gathering dust?

I don't mean we should go around without any sort of discipline and just say what we want. But when something needs to be said, it needs to be said.

I would hope that people trust me and my intuition, my heart. I would hope they know that I wouldn't say something just to hurt them just for the sake of it. If only they would see past the words and choose instead to see the motive and the meaning behind the words. Even if the words are clumsy and faltering.

I would much rather have honest and raw, messy relationships than tidy, boxy, clinical ones.

So if you're one of my friends and you are looking for a shoulder to cry on. I will try to be that friend. If you are in the middle of a messy situation, I will be there to help you out. If you need a bed, or advice, or a gun, I can be your girl.

But I will always be honest. I will say my piece. And then you will say yours. We'll talk, we'll learn a little more about each other, and ourselves. And then we'll move on.

We'll be closer. We'll learn how the other works, thinks, makes decisions.

That's my kind of friendship.