Introducing Lily Jones and her fairy cakes

Lily Jones, 27, started Lily Vanilli, a bespoke cupcake business, from her kitchen in London Fields, Hackney.

Born in London, she grew up in Saudi Arabia but moved back to Croydon when she was 14. Fascinated by cooking from a young age, Lily came to baking after a career that included stints working for the Australian Greens political party in Melbourne, and as a photo production assistant and a freelance writer in New York.

My life story is pretty disjointed,' she admits, but baking has always been my passion, I just never dreamed I could make a career out of it. Last Christmas I started selling tarts, brownies and layer cakes at the Swanfield vintage clothes market, set up by friends in Shoreditch. My cupcakes quickly became the bestsellers, word spread, and before I knew it I had a business on my hands.'

Vintage clothes and cupcakes: a recipe for success?
It works really well actually. Art, fashion, music, food and literature are all connected – our new pop-up shop is also a performance space for bands and an exhibition area for artists. Because of the recession, people are being resourceful and looking for an opportunity to
do something for themselves, by themselves, and not wait around for someone else to employ them.

What's your earliest food memory?
I used to pretend I didn't like the things I was expected to, like chocolate and ketchup. Instead I became obsessed with mushrooms. It was a kind of weird rebellion.

Do you lick the bowl when you're baking?
No. I can make up to 1,000 cupcakes a week, so I would be the size of a house.

What's the future for Lily Vanilli?
I've been commissioned to make themed death cakes' for Maaike Meeking's Fashion Week show, inspired by Dario Argento's film Suspiria. I'm also working on meat-inspired cake sculptures such as a suckling pig and a joint of ham. I'm fascinated by the grotesque and the macabre. It's easy to make a cake look beautiful but you can end up with a pretty cake that is tasteless. I want to turn that idea on its head and make grotesque-looking cakes – like the roadkill cake I'm working on – that taste delicious.

Who would you invite to your dream tea party?
Jelly wizards Bompas and Parr, aka the Jellymongers; we recently worked together on a private tea party and it was fantastic. And Alexis Soyer, one of the first celebrity' chefs in the 19th century – he was also into making weird sculptures out of cakes. He even did a pig cake sculpture with black cherries as eyes, and a swan made out of meringue. I'd like to pick his brains over a cup of tea.

Are you the Mad Hatter, the Cheshire Cat or Alice?
Alice, of course: she's the only one who wears an apron.

Is cake the way to a man's heart?
Maybe especially if he has a sweet tooth and a big belly.

The Swanfield pop-up boutique is at 3 Lowndes Court, Carnaby Street, W1 (lilyvanilli.com)