This photo needs no explanation. I met Amy Winehouse on 2 seperate occasions. The first time, I picked her off the pavement in Highgate, late, one sunny afternoon. The second time, I stopped her on a bridge and told her off for making me late for work and getting in such a state, on that previous occasion, on that sunny afternoon.

It was the summer of 2007 and a few years later she was dead. Amy was friendly and approachable, straight talking and humble. She was fiercely talented and an amazing singer. I remember the day she died. My mum called to tell me, knowing she was more than just a famous singer to me. I was on the pavement at Bond street and I just stopped in my tracks. Holding back the tears, I had to nip into Zara and collect my thoughts in a changing cubical. This fragile little songbird had finally let go.

Strange now that I find myself at the Hawley Arms (her local pub) all the time, as it’s 2 minutes walk from where I work. Like, I am somehow still walking in her shadows. We were both born on the 14th September. I guess you know the rest.

Main image taken Saturday 18th July 2020; Me in my Zara pumps.