Book Luff

My Dad and I are very similar. Our stomachs blow up when we eat wheat, and we both have a crazy obsession with books.

I think my love for books began when I read Miranda Kerr’s ‘Treasure Yourself’ (laugh all you want but I no-longer throw up every time I hear the words taxi, takeoff and landing), Louise L. Hay’s ‘You Can Heal Your Life’ (Again, no more night terrors of tsunamis in Sydney harbor), Gregory David Roberts’ ‘Shantaram’ and Jane Mulvagh’s biography of Vivienne Westwood. I’ve never been a huge fan of novels. It sounds shallow of me, but I’m not going to be camping outside Berkelouw books for the latest twilight. Sorry. However I do love a good classic, my favourites being ‘Everything is Illuminated’, ‘A Room of Ones Own’, ‘Gulliver’s Travel’s’ and ‘Romeo and Juliet’.

I’ve just finished Lena Dunham’s ‘Not That Kind of Girl’ and have just begun reading ‘The First Bad Man a Novel By Miranda July’. Reviews on these soon. If you want. But ill probably do them anyway.

My interest in healthy living and eating came from my love for books.

I wrote this post because I’m currently at home in Australia and have just spent my entire morning looking through my Dad’s crazy book collection.

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I’ve stolen two books this visit (sorry if you’re reading this, dad) and will be spending my 22 hour flight back to London reading about the life of Sir Terence Conran.


One of the things I miss most about Sydney when I’m in London is their ‘Bookstore Cafes’. I know of a few in London but nothing as good as these. My favourites are Gertrude and Alice in Bondi Beach ( and Ampersand in Paddington ( If anyone knows any good places similar to this in London PALEASE let me know. Preferably with a homemade almond milk chai blend. And frappes. I love Frappes.


Ampersand with Angoose



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