I became known for my “kooky” personal style, experimenting with vintage, layers and bringing back clothes from my holidays in Hong Kong and Asia. Even as we started going clubbing or out to bars, I never really got the concept of dressing to attract the opposite sex, hence I stuck out like a sore thumb. But who cares about boys when you have leg warmers in four colours?

Climbing the ladder: I graduated from University College London with a history degree and a complete lack of direction, hence why I fell into advertising – not the creative side, the account management side. It was a solid way of experiencing the rat race in London and kind of perfect for my early 20s and living in the city, but there was always something lacking so I started my blog, Style Bubble, on the side in 2006, sneaking in hours writing and posting, before work, on my lunch hour and after work.

It was my personal outlet for fashion, which I always thought of as a hobby. There wasn’t really a plan or a goal with it other than to write for the joy of writing. And to share within what was a tight-knit community of online fashion enthusiasts spawned from forums such as The Fashion Spot, where we discussed magazines, collections and the industry.

Lone pioneers: When I started blogging, it was such a Wild West in self-publishing. Us version 1.0 bloggers were sort of like lone pioneers navigating uncharted waters – going to shows was like being initiated into an alternate universe, which was why we were seen as interlopers. I loved that period of time when we expressed ourselves as individuals rather than publications or brands. Our voices stood out and, to be honest, I couldn’t have predicted that development of self-publishing into social media platforms and the evolution of bloggers into influencers.

I don’t like to be that fashion person that says, “Oh it was so much better in the good old days.” I think every era has its plus and minus points. I kind of miss that period of learning the ropes of fashion and going to shows but standing in the rafters and also the camaraderie of getting to know other bloggers, writers and emerging designers – like (current Saint Laurent creative director) Anthony Vaccarello, who I met when he was still at school in Brussels.

Now, of course, I’m in a privileged position but because my schedule becomes quite bloated with events, shows, presentations and appointments, sometimes those special moments are harder to come by. I think post pandemic, we will get back to a more refined and focused way of looking at shows and collections. What actually matters? What has real substance?

Special moments: It’s so hard to name a specific show or collection. Away from the regular calendar, I think (Nicolas) Ghesquière’s cruise show for Louis Vuitton in Palm Springs in May 2015 was pretty incredible because the cruise schedule back then was still fairly compact, and because Palm Springs is my spiritual happy place.

Up in Bob Hope’s retro-futuristic spaceship of a house, designed by John Lautner, looking at the vast desert and then these models who looked like characters from the 1982 film Liquid Sky was quite amazing. Cumulatively, the experience transported you elsewhere, both physically and mentally.

Desert magic: Another memorable moment also happens to have taken place in Palm Springs, where I spent Christmas 2018 away from my family with my then one-year-old daughter, Nico. I had just split up with her father and it was a cathartic exercise of a trip to see if I could just be solo with my daughter. I remember being out in Joshua Tree National Park and thinking, “It’s just you and me and that’s OK.”

What I love to wear: My personal style still runs the gamut of “anything goes”, except with more refined layers. I’m not sure I can get away with Ghesquière’s scuba jackets, DIY dresses and toeless socks any more but I always have and always will be devoted to interesting silhouettes, textures and colours. And above all, independent stories and creatives.

I love looking at my wardrobe and seeing the people I’ve written about or have supported in the past. I’ve been lucky enough to both witness amazing spectacles in fashion and wear incredible things as part of the strange grey area I’m in between being a writer, observer and professional enthusiast.

People I look up to: It’s never the super-famous people that bowl me over – and I’ve met a few. I love people who emanate magnetic energy. Odette Rocha, mother of Simone Rocha, just has a lovely aura whenever I see her. Or people like the illustrator Julie Verhoeven or the legendary designer Zandra Rhodes who I just love for going about their idiosyncratic ways and not giving a s***.

And when I met Suzy Menkes, I was also really awestruck, not just because we share a vaguely similar name but because she complimented my work in a magazine article and that really felt like a true badge of honour, to be recognised by a legend in the industry.

Looking forward: I’m not going to moan and say how awful it has been because I’m really luckier than so many. I’ve gotten to see and care for my daughter more than I would have if there was no pandemic and that’s been a real joy. I’m actually not quite sure how I can go back to travelling as consistently as I did before.

I’ve been fortunate enough to pivot my work life, upping my writing work and turning back to content creation for brands that doesn’t rely on travelling – like regularly writing copy for Joyce Boutique, which also keeps me connected to what’s going on in Hong Kong and Asia, which I miss intensely – I literally have dreams about certain foods and wake up smelling them and then being quite disappointed. Early on in lockdown, Tina Craig of Bagsnob said, “Guys, this is what our blogging days taught us! How to work from our bedrooms!” and I’ve really taken that on board.

Against all odds, with a friend from Hong Kong, I have opened up a small cafe called Dot Dot in Stoke Newington, London, serving bubble tea and bubble waffles. It’s a creative outlet that weirdly brings me back full circle to what my parents did when they came here. That has given me something hands-on to do in the absence of touching and seeing collections in person. And obviously I miss friends. So many of my closest friends don’t live in London and normally I would see people like Tina Leung or Bryanboy more than I do my mother in the course of a year. I just want to get together with all of them somewhere, anywhere!