R.I.P. Peaches

I first heard about Peaches Geldof during my stay in London, while studying for my Masters in Arts Management. She was known as a “wild child”, with the most salacious of reports being about her drug use and six month marriage. I was drawn to her like many others on the outside looking in. Even though I never knew her personally, I hung out in the East End, occupying the same spaces that she did and came to my own conclusion that she was just living her life and figuring out who she was going to eventually become at a young age. Who was I to judge? When I did take a look at her TV show based around the launch of her magazine, Dissapear Here, and read some of her articles, I saw an intelligent human being. She was young and making mistakes, but underneath all of the drama and gossip, I found Peaches to truly be a well read, beautiful young woman with a gift for writing.

Earlier today, news broke on Twitter that Peaches died and I audibly gasped. My mom asked me “What’s wrong?” and I said, “This girl that I used to read about in London just passed away…”. I couldn’t go into much more detail because my mom had no clue who Peaches was, but I do, and anyone else who still watches old episodes of Skins, remembers a time when Bloc Party and Klaxons ruled the airwaves, and is aware of who her parents are beyond face recognition, knows who Peaches was and will remain to be. It’s a kick to the gut not only because she was so young  but because she leaves behind two young sons, a husband and family who loves her, and a new chapter to a life that seemed to just get started. I watched her successfully debate alongside Katie Hopkins about attachment parenting and admired her stance. I saw a young adult who was confident and comfortable in her convictions and herself. I could see how much parenthood changed her in the best ways possible.

R.I.P. Peaches.

Photo Credit: Graeme Robertson



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