Sam Smith’s country house in Buckinghamshire, England, has a small barn on the edge of the sprawling estate. A small fake menagerie — turtles, flamingos, even a sloth named Keith — overlooks a patio where Smith’s year-old Bernadoodle, Velma (named for the merry killer in Chicago), suns herself. . Inside, there’s a billiards table, a sparkling crystal chandelier, and a full bar; Feathered, palm tree-shaped lamps and a 2-foot-tall, stuffed Evoque round out the comfortably jumbled decor. It might be the perfect counterpart to the pub in town—well, except for the neon sign that reads “fist me.”
“I was like, ‘What do we call the pub?’ — I know it’s not really a pub, it’s a little barn,” says Smith, taking in the view. “My sister really wanted to call it The Tadpole, which I think once A wonderful name for . But I think The Fat Fairy beat him.
A custom-designed spill mat on the bar bears that name, and Smith enthusiastically kicks off a to-do list for further furnishings: getting a working beer tap, rustic walls. Installing matching parquet floors as “proper pub”. After working a week in London, Smith spends the weekend here – so it’s nice to have, as he says, “my own, private queer club in the middle of the countryside.”
Steps away from The Fat Fairy, is a building dedicated to a celebration of a different kind: a shed-studio space, where Smith has spent the past two years creating new music that, as he says, is finally his true self. It reflects. Sitting on a turquoise sofa inside it, sporting a Balenciaga T-shirt with two gender-neutral stick figures, Smith – who came out publicly as non-binary in late 2019 – found a new sense of comfort. Radiates to: No more hiding, no more questioning, just living life on your own terms. “I can’t express how incredible I feel every day,” he says with a wide grin.
Read Sam Smith’s full cover story here.
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Reference from www.billboard.com