Rookie

I’ve always had little dens. At our old house my dad built me a little hut in the garden, and we had a real treehouse and even a hiding place on top of the outside loo. I moved out into the shed when I started sixth form, which was great because I wanted more freedom and my parents didn’t have to be woken up by me coming home late at night.

A friend and I found this chair in a passageway near my house and carried it home. It had to be thoroughly dried out in front of the fireplace and it didn’t even have a seat when we found it.

I’m obsessed with rainbows, so my books are organized by color. It really brightens up the room! I just have to think for a second about whether the spine is blue or orange when looking for a particular title.

My alcoholic baby is one of my favorite things! She’s like my mascot. There’s a magnet in her mouth which repels the milk bottle and makes her head spin round like the kid in The Exorcist, then attracts the wine bottle and her head actually pops forward to drink from it! I found her at a carboot sale. Best 20p I ever spent.

I love being high up. My bed’s like a nest or something. I’d like to live in an attic one day, or at least have a roof garden.

My dad found these mirrors near his art studio, chucked out by someone who’d used them for a film. There’s a picture of Marc Bolan screwing up his face on an anti-smoking ad too—it just makes me laugh.

I’ve found loads of these ’80s girls’ annuals in charity shops; the cartoons are so corny, mostly about clichéd tweenie romances. I’ve cut into some of them to use in collages or just used them as references when drawing my own comic strips.

When I was about 12, people at school started calling me Enid. I had no idea why for ages, until a friend of my dad’s came over with Ghost World on DVD for me because “the main character is just like you!” I guess every weird arty girl will say the same thing , but the movie and the graphic novel mean so much to me. I’ve identified with and looked up to Enid for years, but this September after failing my art A-level and having two weeks of summer school, I actually got into art school and finally “outgrew” her. That was really strange, sort of emotional, I guess in the same way everyone was crying about Harry Potter ending. This postcard’s from the fantastic video rental shop in Broadway Market, which has loads of cross-stitched film posters on the walls.

The pound store opposite my college is the source of endless amusement and artistic inspiration to my friends and me! I Andy Warhol’ed this banana protector with electric tape.

I’ve had this vintage poster of a shoe for as long as I can remember; I think it was my mum’s. It’s a terrible drawing really—totally out of proportion, and cats’ paws aren’t anything like that! But it’s a sweet image; I’m very sentimental about it.

Don’t ask. I had the Mona Lisa in this wee shrine for ages, then I think my chocolate addiction took over. Very useful when you’re up at three in the morning with deadlines.

The bottom of the bunk bed has been covered with song lyrics and movie quotes by my friends. And eight dollars—my running-away-to-America fund.

This 1940s dressing table was a present from my parents. The guy selling it had no idea how much it was worth; they got it so cheaply. Each drawer is slightly different, and they still have numbers scrawled on the bottom by whoever made it to match them up to the right slot.

Yet again, a treasure from the street! My Some Like It Hot poster was in a skip on Brick Lane, perfect condition. I have no idea why anyone would want to chuck it out, they could’ve at least given it to a charity shop, but then I wouldn’t have found it, so…

A friend bought me a little Gizmo toy for my birthday a couple of years ago. I have a lot of odd toys, there’s also E.T., a unicorn, and one of the freaky little creatures from the Vauxhall Corsa advert.