M o n d a y, 1 0  M a r c h  2 0 1 4

Cheetah Wars.













Details: Hat - TK Maxx, Jumper - Primark, Jeans - Internacionale, Boots - New Look, Watch - Michael Kors, Bag - Zara

These photographs exemplify my two favourite things: cheetah print and old books. I'd like to declare that the thrill of vintage books lies in discovering old stories whilst lying beside the fireplace and drinking copious amounts of tea. Though the fireplace and tea are most certainly involved, I must admit that the reading is kept to a minimum and really I just love a shabby little novel resting on my bookshelf. Ironically, despite spending hours digressing tale upon tale whilst studying English at University, reading for fun is a thing of the past. I cannot deny, however, the wonder of exploring book stalls at markets such as this one in Tynemouth. Scanning the introductory pages for the farthest back date and splurging £1.50 on the battered text (hence: more money for caramel lattes and unnecessary but necessary creme eggs). 

Along with my love for scruffy little pocket books lies my eternal obsession with leopard print. I'd like to suggest that this H&M jacket is just a one-off in a collection of monochrome and subtly patterned clothing items in my wardrobe. Alas, as my friends, family, neighbours, anyone who has ever witnessed my animalistic ensembles perusing the city centre, will tell you; this is simply the mother in my animal kingdom of clothing. I am a woman obsessed with leopard (or cheetah as I prefer to call it: much to my acquaintances' annoyance). Despite having to defend my threatening love for the print each time I don something spectacularly cheetah-fied, I am in heaven and this coat is no exception. Paired with a pretentiously-large and most definitely unnecessary (in a Sunday morning, croc-wearing, Cornish pasty-eating market) hat, I felt every inch the wannabe Kate Moss…or as close as a ginger bathed in fake tan can feel to the icon. 


I may have had to defend the outfit to my sisters, and my mother, and my dad, and every god dam Tom, Dick and Harry in the place, as they argued that I was overdressed for the occasion, I couldn't help but respond with the brutal truth of a 20 year old girl, deprived of attending fancy occasions, that there is no such thing.



Ps. please welcome to the world the love of my life, my child: my new bag from Zara. Bow down.

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