It’s all about working out which moments make a life, and how we get to where we are – and crucially, who we are. The controlled yet stream of consciousness style evokes the feeling that you are thinking through the issues with the narrator, who may or may not be Popkey herself (both are Californian natives in their early thirties). ‘I, at twenty-one, did not, had not yet settled on the governing narrative of my life. Had not yet realized the folly of governing narratives,’ she says, and embarks on trying to figure that out. She acknowledges that, like so many women, ‘I have been, that I continue to be, best at being a vessel for the desire of others.’

It’s a biting dissection, and the self consciousness that gleams onto the page sometimes feels selfish, but you get the feeling that’s what she’s aiming for. We are all living our own lives, and it shouldn’t be shocking that sometimes what we want comes first (even when it’s a case of disliking your own child, as one woman reveals). There’s a brilliant line that rings true yet makes the reader feel slightly uncomfortable in its veracity – ‘Isn’t that the test of love? The test of intimacy? The willingness to be cruel and the belief that, the moment of cruelty passed, the love, the intimacy, remains, undamaged.’

Each chapter could stand alone, as it’s more a selection of reflective pieces rather than pacey plot driven novel. Coming of age and discovering yourself can be lonely and difficult, but this brilliant first step from Popkey is a handbook to have onside.

Journalist and presenter Kate Hutchinson and photographer Laura Kelly met in Havana, Cuba, four years ago and conceived the series in 2017, enlisting an exceptional team of producers to take on an episode each. Every episode is produced by a brilliant woman and is shot and interviewed by two brilliant friends.

I spoke to Kate to find out more.

Why did you start the podcast series?

I started The Last Bohemians because I wanted to hear a series where maverick women who have lived interesting, radical lives tell their stories. And I’d hoped that they’d deliver a bit of give-a-fuck inspiration to women, especially younger women and those who have, like I did at one point, felt anxious, unsure of themselves, or are constantly measuring themselves against others thanks to social media. My interviewees have the attitude and outlook on life that I wish I had more of, basically.

I also really wanted to properly meet and talk to Molly Parkin, who was someone I encountered almost a decade ago, over email, when I stumbled across her erotic poetry and asked her whether I could read some at a literary event I’d been invited to. She’s had the most fabulous life: breathlessly decadent and debauched but also bittersweet, outliving, as she says, most of her lovers. Although these days she prefers to make love to herself, which is brilliant and I hope to be doing at the age of 87, too.

Podcasts are so popular these days – why is that?

Because we’re all narcissists that want to be heard! Erm, no. I think one reason is because they’re a way of community building at a time when the internet can make everything so insular – you can pretty much find a podcast for every hobby or niche, whether it’s a TV show or bread-making, and if they’re episodic podcasts, they are reassuringly constant. They can help people to feel part of something.

There’s also something to be said for relatability – there’s been a huge upsurge in the popularity of the Two Girls/Guys Chatting type of podcast because they’re either funny or because we secretly want to be them. News, current affairs and ‘ooh, look at this fact’-based podcasts are a convenient way of keeping up-to-date when you’re on the move. They offer choice whereas traditional radio can sometimes feel repetitive and you’re at the mercy of the same presenters every time.

Why is it important to share stories of inspirational women?

Older women, in particular, are so often neglected when it comes to covering art and culture  – but they shouldn’t be. I find that most of the books I read are by women, certainly all of the memoirs, and they make better historians because they’re – not always but often – more perceptive and observant than men. And so, while I’m not the most well-listened podcast person there is, I felt that I wasn’t really hearing those sorts of voices in an audio series. You get plenty of radio series and TV shows where old men give their insight into significant eras in history but women’s voices are, a lot of the time, eradicated or relegated to the background. Where’s the interview, for example, with someone like Bianca Jagger, where she is asked about the effect that disco music had on her and why Studio54 was so vital? All you hear mentioned is that white horse.

How did you choose your guests?

Molly was a given, of course. I’d heard Bonnie do a talk with my friend Deborah Coughlin at a Tate Late and we immediately thought she’d be brilliant – again, talking about things like 1970s New York, something she is rarely asked to explore. I’ve always been fascinated by Pauline Black and when I saw that her memoir was being repressed, I leapt at the chance to interview her.

Pamela Des Barres is, again, someone I’ve long wanted to meet, and when I read a piece in the Guardian about groupiedom and the #MeToo movement, I  thought it would be a great angle to explore with her. It just so happens that at one point she was in the UK to promote a new version of her book I’m With The Band. Cosey Fanni Tutti just embodies everything the podcast is about: a strong, attitudinal woman  in her sixties who is still making forward-thinking music. She is unique in that she is always looking to the future, never back.

And Amanda Feilding – I’d found the picture of her in this gorgeous turban with her pet bird on her shoulder, read about her trepanning herself in the 1970, and thought she sounded fantastic. I’m fascinated by her research and the potential of psychedelic experience, though I’ve never gone there myself. Plus she is descended from royalty, lives in this picturesque tumbling country house and is, I think, one of the very last few true British bohemians or what you might call eccentrics who is still alive and still cracking on in the UK today. Each woman brought something completely different to the table and had a contrasting outlook on life but were bound by one important thing: they are unapologetically badass.

The Last Bohemians is available on Audioboom, iTunes Podcasts, Spotify Podcasts and Google Play Podcasts.

Ana knows that she can’t single-handedly combat the sexism and discrimination in the music industry, but does believe that she can do her bit to bring the work of some amazing musicians and singer-songwriters to a new audience.

I asked her a bit more about the project.

How long have you been photographing musicians and gigs?

I’m an indie music journalist and early-career artist and I’ve been attending gigs and festivals as a multimedia reporter for several years. Highlights include seeing Kate Nash, Florence + The Machine, and Amanda Palmer. But I also enjoy giving a bit of press coverage to smaller acts, which is one of the reasons I make a zine.

What’s the fascination with female musicians?

For the last several years I’ve made a conscious effort to buy music by women, whether that’s mainstream artists or buying EPs at local gigs. I know I can’t single-handedly combat the sexism and discrimination in the music industry, but I can do my bit.

Also I just really appreciate the female perspective – like the female gaze in art – I’m interested in what women think and feel. I don’t want to lump us all together, but I think there’s still a level of difference in the experience of being a woman that comes through in the music that’s made – especially when it deals with explicitly feminist or lesbian themes.

Why did you decide to create Girls To The Front – an exhibition of women in music? Was it a deliberate decision or did it evolve organically?

I decided to have the exhibition when I started screenprinting from photos I’d been taking at gigs and realised that some of them were alright! Also I wanted to be able to publicise some of the more indie bands featured like Houdini Said No, The Farting Suffragettes, and Fistymuffs.

What unique situations are there for women in music?

I think we’re responsible for making a scene, from picking up a bass guitar to being interested in an event on social media, it all helps. We just need to spread the word about acts we like (and be vigilant for the creeps trying to keep women down.)

Saint Agnes will release their debut vinyl EP on October 12^th via their own Death Or Glory Gang Records. The new video of the same name is a feminist revenge fantasy filmed by Steve Glashier highlighting street harassment.

Of the film co lead Kitty says ‘I think it’s messed up that street harassment is such a normalised part of being a woman. Every woman I know has experienced it, whether it’s catcalling, verbal abuse, intimidation, being followed. It’s such an everyday experience that you learn, from a really young age, to just let it go. Except often I’m filled with rage. Glashier asked me what I wanted to make a video about and this seemed an opportunity to take that deep burning rage and use it for something. He asked me what I would do in a consequence-free, dream reality, ‘I’d take a baseball bat to them’ was my response. So we jumped in the car and started filming. The sad irony is that even during the shoot a car slowed and began shouting stuff out the window, they sped away when they saw that I wasn’t on my own. So this video is my revenge fantasy; it’s my rage enacted, my fury on film.’

Taking place London Pavilion at Piccadilly Circus, which was one of the original historical meeting places of the Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU), and now home to a money exchange and rather distracting bakery, participants are invited to walk some of the steps that suffragettes did one hundred years ago. Behind a green door we are tasked to design banners, paint rocks, make rosettes, and go on secret missions – that may see them getting ‘arrested.’ Depending on the length of sentence you are willing to risk, and the means at your disposal, you are set certain tasks, some of which take you out on to the streets of Picadilly.

Designers by Helen Scarlett O’Neill and Harry Ross have recreated the Union HQ, Gardenia Café, and a prison cell where some of us end up. It’s all based on letters and documents from the National Archives, and particularly the testimony of Lillian Ball, a mother and dressmaker from Tooting, who was arrested for smashing a window in 1912.  One of many brave and passionate women, it’s her experiences that the event centres around, but imprisonment, cross examination and the risk of being force fed were by no means unique to Ms Ball.

A highly enjoyable but also emotive way to spend a couple of hours (don’t believe the hour duration that is given as guidance), the Suffragette City Immersive Experience is a great way to learn more about the trials and traumas that took place a century ago. But it’s telling that whilst out on one of our missions, we come across a modern women’s march. Even now, in 2018, there is important work to be done.

The Suffragette City Immersive Experience runs from Thursday 8 to Sunday 25 March 2018, and tickets are available from the National Trust.

Image – Surveillance photographs of Suffragettes imprisoned in Holloway. The National Archives Catalogue Reference: AR 1/528 Suffragettes 11-18, 1914

Crafting with Feminism: 25 Girl-Powered Projects to Smash the Patriarchy, Bonnie Burton’s latest book, takes it one step further. This is making with a message, and features 25 projects that overtly send out messages of empowerment and challenge that are impossible to ignore. Feminism is about getting your voice out there, and these projects are a way to do so.

There’s the Huggable Uterus Body Pillow, Pizza Not Patriarchy Lunch Bags, or craft heroine finger puppets in the shape of Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Frida Khalo. You might like to make some Feminist Badges of Honour in order to express whatever you feel like, regardless of norms, or a Nope Necklace – because you have the right to say no. Especially when rocking Power Pussie Panties. And when things seem tough, reach out to those who have been before you with these Strong Female Prayer Candles.

To help you connect with fellow feminists, she includes a feminist music playlist, suggestions for films and books to discover, holidays to celebrate and the perfect party planning. An enthusiastic and irreverent approach to craft, activism and creativity, it’s the perfect accompaniment to winter evenings.

Running until May 21st 2016

It’s the first time Charlotte Keatley’s play has been performed in London in 25 years, but this production of My Mother Said I Never Should, produced by Tiny Fires and running at St James Theatre, suggests that the capital has been waiting that long. It’s easy  to see why the National Theatre ranked it as one of the most significant plays of the twentieth century in 2000, and despite it being the most performed play ever written by a female playwright, Paul Robinson’s direction and Tara Finley’s production keeps it fresh.

The family drama spans 1940 to 1987 and four generations of women, and explores not only the personal dynamics at play, but those of society and its effect work, marriage and motherhood.

The plot is simple – we have Doris, born in Oldham in 1900, her daughter, Margaret who inherits some of her work and duty values but is some more freedom, her daughter, Jackie, who has an unplanned pregnancy in 1969, and hands her baby daughter, Rosie, to her mother to bring up as her own. But as all mother and daughter relationships, the reality is all the more complex. The ways in which they mirror one another, even whilst trying to break away, are clear, and we see repeated a longing to be different coexisting with a desire to connect.

Of course things have changed and female freedoms extended and opportunities grown. There’s a sense of movement for the women – at one point Margaret says to Jackie ‘You’ve got to go further than me – otherwise, what’s it been worth?’ – but at the same time it’s very clear that much has stayed the same, particularly when it comes to the bonds and family dynamics. She herself made a similar assertion as young woman, declaring, ‘Well I’m going to be different! Women did so much during the war: there’s nothing stopping us now.’  Men are never physically present, but always casting a shadow, whether as husbands, fathers or bosses. However, rather than a play about women and men, this feels like more of a play about mothers and daughters.

Much of this is down to the convincing familial dynamics between the cast. Doris Lipman is superb as Maureen, showing grit, humour and strength of character even as she is constrained by conventions. Katie Brayben, Olivier Award winner last year for her performance as Carole King in Beautiful, plays Jackie, and manages to portray a wild child of the sixties to a mother parted from her daughter and the complexities of changing emotions and relationships. Serena Manteghi is vibrant and animated as the youngest character, and it’s touching to see her grow.  Huge congratulations and respect also has to go to Hilary Jones, who stepped in at the last moment to play Margaret due to Caroline Faber having to step down – this performance was the first configuration of the cast, and only the second time they had met.

Signe Beckman’s set design is sparse, with flickering television screens setting up the context of the time without overpowering the individual stories. Interspersed with movement through the decades are flashbacks, such as from Doris to 1923 when Jack proposed, and waste ground scenes where all four become children again, playing together and casting spells. There’s simple repeated motifs, such as the movement from ‘mummy’ to ‘mum’ to ‘mother’ to a first name, and the solitaire board that becomes a metaphor for winning at life by being an individual.

There’s no formula. The relationships between mother and daughter are delicate. Margaret says at one point that ‘You do what’s best for your daughter, and you find out it’s not what she wanted, or needed’ – a thought millions of mothers have had. But still the bond is there. The scene where the family sort Doris’ late husband’s house provides a particularly lovely lens through which to explore the relationships of the four women together.

Whilst watching My Mother Said I Never Should, I wished that my own mummy was there. I wanted to share the moments with her. This feels like high praise.