January 13, 2019
This post isn’t going to include nicely curated and edited images. This post is my introduction about the human behind the lens. So instead, the images contained in this post may cause your eyes to burn from pure humiliation on my part.
I was born in Melbourne, Australia where I evacuated my mothers womb 4 days late and in a style that I would maintain throughout my life, difficult and unplanned (c-section). I was blonde, blue eyed, had an epic head of hair and the apple of my father’s eye. I was his first girl.
Only 13 months later, my sister joined the squad, though brunette, brown eyed and with a rather envious olive complexion.
Through primary school I was ambitious and arty. I was the first to hand in projects; complete with glitter headings, printed paragraphs and zigzag borders. I genuinely enjoyed school.
High school hit me like a tonne of bricks and puberty hit me even harder. I was pimply, skinny, had braces and I was literally a whole foot shorter than most of my class mates. To top it off, I was at a private, all girls catholic school. Nothing crushes your soul more than pretty teenage girls in designer jeans and Birkenstocks. Safe to say I didn’t last long at that school.
My next adventure took me to a co-ed school that specialised more in arts and drama. I found myself as athletics captain, vice house captain, and I was able to focus on my creative side too with photography, food science and vis com as elective subjects. I found my space and I thrived.
I finished my 6th year (VCE) with grades that saw me secure a place in a Bachelor of Consumer Science degree.
After a bit of a rough first 12 months at uni, I felt I needed a break, a GAP year if you will. So the day after my 19th birthday, I jumped a flight to Belgium and worked as a nanny (au pair) for the 3 months. I worked for a family that spoke minimal english and I spoke nearly no French. That experience, to this day, has been one of my most valued. It taught me to communicate in another way. Gestures, facial expressions, body language, all speak volumes. I left Belgium 2 stone heavier, having consumed every wheel of brie, every baguette, every brand of Belgian beer known to man. I was full and happy.
My next flight brought me to Scotland. I found myself in a tiny apartment in Govan, Glasgow. I’m sure you’ve gotten a good giggle at that. Govan was hilarious and ridiculous to live in, all at the same time. The park across from my house had all the trees cut down as people were caught having sex behind them; and then the man made pond was drained because someone had tried to drown someone in it after a big night out.
I loved Glasgow, however was very very disappointed that men didn’t wear kilts and blue face paint all the time. Devastated is probably a better term. I had visions I would be whisked away by a kilted man on a horse who would tell me that the torrential rain was in fact fine Scottish weather.
Over the next few months I danced around several European countries including, Spain, Portugal, France and the Netherlands. However I seemed completely drawn to Scotland. On my return to the kilted nation, I found myself a human dressed in a kilt all of my own.
Sadly, that relationship has since broken down, but I have three Scottish princess’ as a beautiful result. Three crazy human beings that keep me on my toes and my head up. The chaos in my house and head is very real, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. March 2019 will be 9 years since I started my GAP year. I’ve been home to the sunshine a few times over those years, and yes I have my moments about heading back to the sunshine with my girl gang; but there’s always been a pull to Scotland for me. Still not sure what it is, as I sit here in Ugg boots, 3 jumpers and 4 pairs of socks; but there’s something that keeps me here.
I have the most epic mum squad and the most beautiful friends. Their support and love is on another level and I am forever grateful for them. They are my family. Maybe that’s what’s keeping me here. Or even, maybe there is a kilted man on a horse waiting to whisk me away. Who knows?
All I know is, I’m in a happy place.
My girls are the reason I do everything and most importantly the reason I started my business. They are my inspiration and my motivation. That’s my story up till now. 2019 sees a new chapter for Tink&Lulu Photography, but also for my girl gang, and I can’t wait to meet you all and discover your stories.