I like to think I’ve got this whole stable relationship thing down, that is, except the one I have with my wardrobe. That’s not so stable. In fact, it’s as erratic as my hair washing habits. There’s just no consistency. One minute I wanna be the girl with bed head hair wearing a leather jacket, sunnies and a choker, the next, I wanna be gallivanting around with a herd of sheep in a gingham dress like Little f*cking Bo Peep. But like the cool Toy Story version, at least, that’s the vision I have in my head anyway, ha, and that’s what really counts, right?
Continue reading “Going Gaga For Gingham | Let’s Look Like Human Picnic Blankets Together” »
April 23, 2017
I’d like to dedicate this post to my décolletage, because you young lady have been hiding away under turtle necks and tights that go up to my earlobes for what seems like foreverrrr. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the area south of my chin(s) needs all the support it can get, so giving me and it a lift all the way to Spring is really, really kind of you. As much as I count myself as fully-fledged knitwear devotee, there’s only so much armpit claustrophobia a girl can take – does anyone else get that? I get it in when I’m laying down in the bath because my arms are pinned by my sides. Or, when I’m laying on one side in bed and the side-down armpit just becomes too aware that it’s trapped, face down in a pillow. It’s kind of like when you become aware that your tongue is too big for your mouth. It’s knocking around by your bottom teeth like the tide, bashing gently against the back of your incisors. Welcome back to the madness my ol’ pals, has it really only been a week since I last projected all these LCisms onto you?
Continue reading “How Bardot Can You Go?” »
April 16, 2017
Behold, the trusty blazer, AKA fashion’s greatest fibster! It makes you look like you’ve got alllll your shizzle well and truly dizzled, even if you still can’t parallel park for sh*t. Or use chopsticks. Or hold a new born baby without hyperventilating.
The last time I wore a blazer it was a bright red military style number with buttons across the shoulders, think Cheryl Cole in her Fight For This Love video, only the Poundland version. I had teamed it with those f*cking awful tights that were doing the rounds circa 2010. You know the really bad ones that were made to look like suspenders. Yep, those. There’s only one thing worse than wearing suspenders as clothes and that’s wearing faux suspenders as clothes. Sick. In. My. Mouth. You people I call friends, where were you? Then again, I guess there is no easy way to tell a pal that they look like they should be rolling around on a bed with a cable phone, a leopard print throw and a hotdog.
Continue reading “Give A Girl A Good Blazer & She’ll Conquer The World” »
February 19, 2017
First of all, can we just appreciate my cat’s bum in the photo above (and I don’t even smoke so erm, who got the raw deal there?). Secondly, no you’re not imagining things, that is in fact a beret on my head and no, your wtf face isn’t the first wtf face I’ve had to explain myself to. As I turned up at St Pancras for a work trip to Paris recently, croissant in one hand and my beret in the other (naturally), I was fully aware that I was about to be subjected to a barrage of abuse from my non-beret bearing work pals. But I’m not ashamed, I am a Parisian wannabe. Parisian women are immaculate super-humans and if a felt hat with a little nipple on it makes me an ounce more like them, then you can betcha baguette I’ll be wearing one. Haters gonna hate.
Continue reading “Guess Who’s Back? Back Again. Beret’s Back. Tell A Friend!” »
January 30, 2017
This is no ordinary fairytale. See, I am not the kind of girl who travels in an enchanted carriage. Nah, not me. I drive around in a humble Ford C-Max caked in pigeon sh*t. And I am not the kind of girl who can get away with wearing a puffy tulle skirt without getting drain water up her leg and dirty cankles either. Fairy god mother you owe me a goddamn pumpkin latte or summin.
Continue reading “Once Upon A Time” »
January 23, 2017