Ka-Ching

What I brought this week:


I got another tshirt. I have worn one in a long time, but I have worn the one I got the other day incessantly under cardigans and dresses. This one is purple and cute.

Red plimsolls. Couldn't resist.

Flowers, pretty?

I am over dieting. I wanted it.

Waterboy

I know you are a casual, laid-back kinda guy.

But its YOUR movie, make an EFFORT.

Your (pregnant) wife looks amazing, you couldn't even spit your gum out.

Cette Semaine

. Been playing Guitar Hero, and moaning loudly about missing the LAST NOTE of Miss Murder - this ruining my 100% score. I tried playing on medium, but my little finger can't press the button properly.

. My friends had a bad week, on Saturday night they both texted me at exactly the same time, one pal had spent 5 hours in Surbition A&E with a friend who had lost a tooth in a nightclub fight. The other one had just been dumped, not even by the 'man' himself, he got their mutual friend to tell her. Lame.

. I have had a Russell Brand week, I have been reading his book, watching youtube stuff and listening to old podcasts of his BBC2 Radio Show. I am listening to one right now, and i'm sure my gestures and language will gradually be more flamboyant.

. Making my parents laugh, telling them how my friend had a wild night out that involved stitched then allowing them to make a comparison with my squeal about Eurovision being on. I invited my pal round, cooked Nando's chicken and loved Spain's entry (Quatro, la robocop)

. Baked. I sort of threw everything together, baking powder for soda, any kind of flower, weird measures of sugar, no vanilla. Doesn't taste that bad. Ish. With icing.

Lost my heart, but what of it?

Will post soon. Promise.

And hid from him my heart's delight

I am still here, just lost my spark - like it seems a lot of Fashion Bloggers have actually -

Maybe I am finally fitting in at last. How depressing.

The Day the Music Died.

For fuck's sake:

Nickleback win songwriting award

Rockstar is like the Douche's Anthem.

The day the Music died.

For fuck's sake:

Nickleback win songwriting award

Rockstar is like the Douche's anthem.

Sigh

Gorgeousness!

Pink, floral
Red and black, dotty
Blue and white, floral


Jade green, shift
1950's, holiday print


Mint, flowers

Oooh!

Gorgeous Garments

Purple...satin...bow...Grecian = FTW.
Black..bow...swooshy.
Buttercup yellow...ruffles...
Silver...flat...strappy.
Bow! black satin! Sigh!


See, I am a DAMM good Fashion Blogger. I may be too low in self-esteem-ness to post photos of my outfits and not be that interested in posting thousands of catwalk photos - BUT I can give you my immediate reactions to gorgeous garments.

All from ASOS.

The Great Divide

They say every family has a black sheep, well Baa.

I am my family's black sheep, although I have elements of my Mum and Dad I am completely different to them. My Dad is calm, always joking, he loves sport, Tarantino movies and moaning at me. My Mum is kind, always busy, loves Arsenal, Hallmark movies and asking me to wash-up. My brother is a sort of mixture of these things. I think the main barrier is football. My family is football obsessed, its on ALL THE TIME, always talked about and always takes precedence. I LOATHE football, sport in general and I still don't understand most of the rules. This provides entertainment for my family, like when I said to my Dad that I thought Ally McCoist played rugby, to much hilarity, poking and snorting they managed to get out that he was a 'legend' in Scottish football. I think I can blame my internet addiction on this, I always go downstairs to watch the Apprentice, play a game or do something and find football is on, and then on after that. My discourse is always met with blank stares, 'Dad did you know Perez Hilton had this photo of Lily Allen....yeah its a gossip site...yeah...smile...' and no-one ever knows what I am talking about.

Right now I can hear some cries of Rochdale, who my Dad told me 'are in our league'. I sometimes imagine another family somewhere, who are all watching Project Runway together, or Mighty Boosh and there is a girl sitting there sadly in her Arsenal shirt longing for a sporting family. I have her family. Oh, Dad just called up the stairs to tell me Pompey are playing soon and apparently 2 years ago I said I 'liked them' and this means I have to come downstairs and support them when they play later on. I just replied with a nasty snort and apparently now I am 'missing out'. Whatever. I can name all past winners of ANTM Papa. Beat that.

Coal Miners & Geography Teachers

Since I have spent today watching Eels, dancing about and continuing my love of plaid - I thought I would chat on a bit. Is that okay? Tough. No-one reads this anyway apart from coal miners and Geography teachers.

I thought I would chat about accents, since my love for Apprentice contestant Raef has gone through the roof. On yesterday's show he said he didn't 'want to get married' and I hilariously mimed choking at my love's commitment-phobic attitude. Actually, I am better actress that I thought and Mum graciously whacked my back thinking I was choking then mumbled about 'crying wolf' and 'you think your so bloody funny' when she realised my little jape. Raef is gorgeously posh and refined, he regularly wears a Noel Coward style dressing gown, laments not bringing his linen suit when he discovers their next task is in Morocco and gentlemanly stuck up for Sara when she was being picked upon. This week he dressed up as a bear. Yes, a bear. I don't know why either. The spoken word is his 'tool' and I absolutely adore him.

I have always loved a boy with an accent, as my police record shows. This is despite my Northern relatives making fun of me 'Oooh its 'Atalie caoming doun from Lardon'. I took this well, asking them if the North had pavements yet. Apparently, they did not but someone had found a well. The battle was lost when my Uncle asked me if I wanted to cook and I said 'umm. well I am not very good in the kitchen' and it turns out he was asking me if I wanted a Coke. This is actually making me laugh as I type this, its one of my favourite stories, try saying Coke in a Yorkshire accent, see - like Cook right?

My voice is a weird mixture of estuary english (Londonish) and my odd syntax. IIt sounds like I am a girlish version of Russell Brand and then a candidate for Enid Blyton's St Claire's in one sentence. I think this is best illustrated with my two most commonly said words - fuck and gosh.

Nothing To See Here.

I spend so much time reading fashion blogs with a running commentary of 'Oooh I love that dress...bit short for me though...Oooh cute shoes...I can't wear heels...Such pretty eye makeup..bit much for everyday...I want a frock coat...yeah...where is that control?...Mum why are we out of diet coke....fucking guitar hero...too bloody hard....oooh someone on MB forum has messaged me...where is the control....oooh phone....bloody tesco mobile...no pals...where are my jellybeans...?

Ahem. Whilst all my favourite bloggers showcase their gorgeous outfit/makeup/photoskills if I did a daily attire thing it would look like this:

Monday. House clothes - usually my candy red jogging bottoms and some tshirt.

Tuesday. Pj bottoms, blue tshirt.

Plaid.
Yep. Nothing to see here.

Today. I am doing DOUBLE PLAID. I know, the universe implodes.

Me.

I have needed a new DVD player for AGES. My old one I only got at Christmas and it went all grey and wavy on me. This meant i've been playing all my Mighty Boosh and Frasier DVDS on this laptop which is already overheated enough from having to be on constant charge. ANYWAY. After already trying to return it once (forgot control, so annoying) I finally got a new one. Phillips, it really likes me already and played 70's show perfectly earlier.

Piles o'laundry. A close relative to my 'tower o' laundry'. Exams are gone and I am all out of excuses.
I broke my wayfarers. Luckily my Mum got a pair - what a hipster - so I can steal hers.

Gingham. My first love. This is now filled with my girly crap.

I am in the shadows. Watching waiting. I love this because I look more than slightly gormless. Without a gorm. Or like someone told me bad news and I was exhausted.

This is what I got today. I wanted a cute tshirt because I seem to just have plain tshirts and cardigans. I wanted something to wear under a dress to edge it out a bit. I also got a cardigan and a striped jumper, light spring wear. I tried on a gazillion dresses today, and I got attached to a black polka dot playsuit, which I LOVED but knew I wouldn't wear outside as it was a bit short for me.

This is my exam sheets, finally DONE! You can see my chick lit happily shrouding my questions about Adam Bede. I am sick of reading the critically acclaimed.


Bonjour! I am going against all the 'rules' and going stripe crazy lately.

Update

Soon

Sur La Mer

It feels strangely wonderful to be writing this. I hope some of you have stuck with me, especially in a sea of fashion bloggers who have exams or are suffering a crisis of fashion confidence.

Anyway. Yesterday I went to Brighton with my parents and I thought I would post some photos. For once its relatively relevant as when we visited the Brighton Museum they had an exhibit called 'Little black dress' which was really cool, it has dresses from Amanda Wakeley, Chanel, Julian MacDonald...lots of people and had a gorgeous dress Victoria Beckham wore, all black fishtail. Most of the photos came out a little flash-y but I hope you will excuse that.

I Emerge

Gasping from the fog of discontent. Blinking madly at daylight and cocking my head to listen to the sounds of laughter and early summer. With shaky legs that quake and lament their strength. Fingertips to elbows covered in blue ink, mouth bitten and gaping. Drowsy eyes. It's over. It's all over.

Drowning

In a sea of awful novels and poems I am sick of.

Proper updates soon.

Too Much

How BAD is this outfit from the British Soap Awards:

Yep. That bad.

6 Quirks

This has been floating around for a while now, and I thought I would do it - whilst watching Indiana Jones. Actually, just doing this has annoyed me. I generally dislike people who label themselves quirky.

1. I am addicted to sugar. Not in the silly way people jokily pretend to be, eating a skittle and saying 'oooh i love sugar'. I NEED sugar, I am constantly eating sweets or drinking Diet Coke. This is why my dentist hates me.

2. I have a horrible habit of phases. Especially with food/books/tv shows. I fall for something, do it to death then can't bear to eat/read/watch anymore for a while. Before Christmas it was chicken wraps, Austen and SATC.

3. I don't think I could cope without the internet for over 4 days. I am always on it, or thinking about it.

4. I LOVE fanfiction. LOVE.

5. When I think of myself I am always confused, I seem to be a constant contadiction. Whenever this is just normal and I am trying to feel special I don't know. I think most people are more constant than I am, despite how much I loathe change.

6. My panic disorder. It means I can burst into hysterical tears over exam rooms, worry incessantly - yet be completely calm under an emergency and push through to do the things that matter.

Dear Miss N

I was in quite a quandary when I heard of your torrent of abuse against my good name. Apparently, whilst waiting for your Shakespeare exam you received your released paper for your poetry module - my beloved Romanticism and you were greatly displeased to have my poem 'Ode to Dejection' as the main focal point. Sorry to hear you find it 'bloody depressing'.

Now, young lady I spent a great deal of time on this poem. It was written for my great friend William (Wordsworth you know my dear) and I was upset to hear of your lack of excitement at my work. Apparently your cursed and wished for Byron. Byron!? The man is perverted in the extreme, didn't you hear about that thing with his half sister? What? Well I don't believe you. He is a caddish sort. Between this, and my marriage troubles...its more than any good man can stand. Also, were you not the young lady who moaned her way through a presentation on Kubla Khan? I remember my assistant telling me someone threw my dear work across the library floor in a peevish display. I am very sorry that my work was too complex for you, might I suggest you try some Dr Seuss? I wish you all the luck in our beautiful land for the examination - as you will need it to understand my work of genius? What? Oh, I took that from Milton my dear, a good friend you understand, 'my genial spirits fail'. How lovely. I am good.


Ancient Mariner-ingly

Coleridge


PS. Stop fawning over Keats. He TOLD you himself that he was not interested. Why not try for Charlotte Smith? What? That's not what I heard my dear!...On the poetical grapevine!

King O'Muffindom

Hey
Its my first exam tomorrow and I am TERRIFIED. To take my mind off of it I've been mucking about taking photos. Today I went to pick up a released paper for next week's exams, went with my Mum to her physio and I am going to place my vote later on.

Here is a delicious muffin purchased for me. I know the photo is out of focus but for some reason I like it like this. It has a layer of chocolate icing and sprinkles. King o'Muffindom.


Here, 20 minutes later - I eat absurdly slowly - I am watching Nanageddon, trying not to think about Othello and toying with doing some ironing.


This is my desk, full of all the things I love.

This is my revision-days uniform, I LOVE the shirt but my brother always makes fun of it and calls me a Hick/Loser/Farmer/Cowboy/Country Bumpkin/*noise like a pig squealing*

I hope your day is going well, and you are NOT voting for Boris Johnson. Ciao!