Home » Zoë Birtwhistle » Zoë's Kitchen Nightmare

Zoë's Kitchen Nightmare

Zoë's Kitchen Nightmare / Photography by Images by Iceni, Model Zoë Birtwhistle, Makeup by Zoë Birtwhistle, Stylist Zoë Birtwhistle / Uploaded 20th July 2021 @ 07:54 AM

Added 1626767656 by Zoë Birtwhistle.

Oh, hi there! I wasn't expecting you until later, you kinda surprised me! Yes, quite comfortable, thank you. Have you eaten? You know I don't tend to keep any solid food in the house but I'm sure we can concoct some kind of broth with these rice wines and, erm, maybe like a teabag or something? Never let it be said that I am not a munificent host. There's some lime juice and a teeny bit of palm sugar in the cupboard above my legs. If you could just reach over… I'm sure it's in there somewhere…

Anyway, how are things with you these scorching days? Are you managing to cope with the burden of your existence being so inherently political? Totally nerve-wracking, isn't it. Your body is a manifesto, your presence in the environment a radically subversive statement. If you weren't a human being it might be tempting to categorise you as some kind of sculpture or protest piece. You defy expectation and shock people into new thinking in the same way that really good public art should. Much more fun than hiding in your ivory tower, no?

Me? I'm an absolute floppy poppy. Being visibly non-compliant per se has never made me anxious, and the little kid in me positively enjoys it. But I've always found the responsibilities it entails draining. I have no moral authority in this kind of weather. Why does being true to ourselves mean we also have to be so perpetually didactic? It’s tedious and terrifying at the same time. Boredom and fear, not alternately as they are in war, but coexisting in the mind as a single perturbation. Is there a word for that?

Yes, I suppose I could abdicate. Take more time out of life, barricade myself, rest even longer, indulge my not-so-secret hikikomori ways for another few years. But I’ve done that enough. I wasted my twenties in retreat from these fascinating problems. I can’t allow myself to do the same with my thirties. And politics is the price we pay to exist in a civilised society.

Anyway, the broth should be infused by now. There is a selection of srirachas in the fridge for your delectation. Oh... thanks for the offer but I'm usually fine to exfold by myself. I don't want to get out just yet.