Author Archives: Hayley Campbell

How Not To Die On a Bike in London

Here is a piece I wrote for the New Statesman‘s transport-themed week, A to B. Ever since I wrote it I feel like I’ve jinxed myself. I put my helmet on in the morning and I wonder if it’s a … Continue reading

Posted in New Statesman

I Blame Myselves

I’m not gonna lie to you here: I am a person on the Internet, and unless you’re trying to fool future employers or put your dick in something you’re not supposed to I see no reason to lie on Internet. … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

The Almost Literal Elephant In The Room

I am a tall lady. Absolutely massive. When I was wee and my Mum read me Bill Peet’s Huge Harold she would point at the rabbit who grew so enormous he had to leave town and sleep in a barn, … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

Open Letter To Hot English People

If you are somewhere that is not England right now, perhaps in an igloo or a submarine or even another country, then you are likely to be unaware that London and its surrounding area (“England”) is in the sweaty death-grip … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

Eat Your Makeup

People often ask me what I do to my eyebrows in a (if you’re my Dad) “what have you done to your eyebrows” way, or a “so tell me how you do your amazing eyebrows” way if I am drunk … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

Romantic Misadventure

[Here is a thing I read to a room full of drunk people in London. It is about: the Internet.] So I’ve been to a whole bunch of these Romantic Misadventure nights and what I’ve discovered is everyone’s had more … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

Is This Too Soon? Probably.

In these post-Yewtree days I like to think I’m not the only one taking stock of my childhood and the moments in which it is entirely possible I could have been bummed but wasn’t. Is this too soon? Am I … Continue reading

Posted in Essays

Every Day I Am Coming

I am still a regular, sweaty face at the gym and it is now June. This means I have reached and breached the point of New Years resolution dissolution; I am still lifting things up, still putting them down, still doing ridiculous … Continue reading

Posted in Essays, Ridiculous

On Why Our Author Finds Herself In Her Pajamas at 3pm Awaiting The Delivery of Two Frozen Squirrels

“I don’t want to cause a weird fight or anything,” I said, “But someone’s shoved a frozen pizza on top of my rook. Obviously I can’t bring this up without alerting house to presence of dead rook in freezer.” “Sweetums. … Continue reading

Posted in Essays, Ridiculous

Open Letter To My Obituarist

Dear person who is going to tidy my life into one succinct paragraph (or maybe more if you have to make a word count), In the event of my inevitable death you will be required to write a thing about … Continue reading

Posted in Essays