Tuesday, 7 October / Uni Attire

Praise be for my fabulous new mirror (named 'Louis' in the department store...fabulous) that is now positioned in my uni room for third year. Now I can take socially awkward photos without the assistance of an uncomfortable mother...hurrah.

H&M duster coat, Zara top, New Look jeans, Birkenstocks

Hopefully the mirror should mean more frequent posts, the same black attire and a sight you'll see very frequently... a messy background.

Monday, 15 September / University Life

At the weekend I will move into my third year flat ready to commence my final year of studies at University. To say it has been a turbulent two years would be somewhat of an understatement. As I'm preparing to return I guess I'm feeling reflective, or even nostalgic, maybe that's the reason I felt the urge to write about it.

As I return to the routine of early mornings, ready meals and very few hangovers (poor example of a student) it's strange to think of how many people are just beginning their time at Uni. Racing through Ikea, taking advantage of their parent's bank account to buy little trinkets (cactuses) and unusual shaped glasses. No doubt steering clear from the supermarket trip for "necessities" (buying bath mats and disposable razors never excited me as much: aint no Swedish meatballs and gravy at Asda...)

School was always a huge priority for me. As I keep explaining to my little sister, that doesn't mean the 7am starts, bitchy lunchtimes or stress of A levels were easy, but they have crafted some interesting memories and certainly developed me as a person. Maybe just my ability to create 'FOTD' in 5 minutes and throw together a PowerPoint in a rushed and terrified lunch break. My enjoyment(?) of school was no doubt the reason I smoothly began the process of applying for Uni. Looking back now I never really doubted if I’d actually go, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life (still don’t), no firm idea if I should study English (still unsure), but I knew that everyone else was doing it, so obviously I thought so too. In retrospect, there was nothing else to do, so, although I made the right choice in going, my naivety made the whole initiation to Uni life far more terrifying.

Starting Freshers I was surrounded by others who were so determined in their quest to achieve a First Class Honours and become the next whoever or whatever. I figured I had three years to choose my future. Well, here we are at that time and, well, I’m… still clueless.

I’ve spent so much of my university experience stressing over what I want at the end of it that I’ve overlooked the ‘journey’. Though I’m nearing the conclusion of #unilife (and apparently sounding like a regretful senior citizen) the friendships I’ve made will not be coming to an end. Those are relationships that I’m proud of, as much as my dissertation proposal in fact. I’ve met so many people, as anyone starting Uni will, but true friendships have condensed down to far fewer at this time. Though I’m clueless about the job I’ll settle for, or the place I’ll choose to live, I know I’ll have some incredible friends to guide me through these decisions. Even if that is my main achievement from my time at university, I’ll be more than happy.

Even if only one fresher, or prospective student reads this, I hope you’ll somehow extract the idea that Uni (typically) only happens once so try to enjoy it. Try to let your biggest stress be figuring out how to heat a pot noodle and how tolerable tea can be with expired milk (hmm). 

Wednesday, 13 August / Beauty Bits

So last weekend was, undoubtedly, one of the best of my life. My big sister (we'll say older given that there's nothing big about her) married and it was a glorious day of flowers, tears and false eyelashes. Safe to say my entire family are in a somber mood this week. Nothing can compare to the joy of free prosecco, choco covered strawberries and my dad's "Father of the bride speech." Not even hoovering, tidying or dissertation prep can suck me from the realms of devastation following the best weekend ever (hehehe). What choice did I have but the only therapy that ever saves me from these times, therapy in the form of retail. Cue beautifully edited picture of a few purchases...

Luckily, I needn't cure the wedding bug just yet. I'm attending another wedding in a matter of weeks (wahoo feed my soppy, romantic urges) and so I needed wanted a dress, some shoes and a bag for the occasion.... *tempts mother on a shopping trip with the promise of a latte and some caramel shortbread*. My goal of the shopping jaunt was actually to recreate the flawless makeup I'd worn to be Maid of Honour. The MUA had been incredible and I had never felt so beautiful (especially when eating a sausage roll amongst all the glamour at 10am). She recommended MAC Face and Body, Studio Finish Concealer and Mineralize Skinfinish Natural (with its fancy new packaging -ooer).

-Post to follow on my (hopeful) success of covering my horrific stressed out skin with the aforementioned disguising products.

I bought some incredibly beautifully stunning in-your-face and perhaps-not-wedding-appropriate rose gold heels to wear with a powder blue dress for the upcoming event and will follow soon with a pic of me in my fake tanned and curled-hair glory. Wew long sentence. 

So here I am at the weekend with my handsome boyfriend, bubbly in hand, with the glowiest skin I have ever encountered and looking smugly thrilled with the success of my OLDER sister's organisational capabilities. I'm  now off to dry out that gorgeous bouquet and watch more 'Say Yes to the Dress'... how else can I satisfy my urges?!

Wednesday, 30 July / Homies

Hmm, forever disappointed by my scenery...

Independent t-shirt, Zara trousers, Dorothy Perkins heels, Zara necklace, Michael Kors watch

...and quality of photos. Continue with the whole 'at least she tries' mantra and pull through another post of poorly edited and formatted pictures, I'm still just a student working in a tea shop... 

So I stole my sister's t-shirt and mother's necklace. I do own my clothes (read: too many), but isn't it just so exciting to nosey peruse through other wardrobes and steal borrow various items? So here I am channelling a new look, monochrome (ha), and showcasing a logo-tee: how very nonchalant of me. 

I'd love to say this get up took 3 minutes to throw together but I try to be honest at all times. This outfit was perfect for my trip to the posh Chinese restaurant down the road (read: expandable waistline vs. duck pancakes). Yes it's black and white, as always, but it is a t-shirt, so I'm basically summer-ready, right?

Now off to find a home for all the hand wipes I stole from the restaurant (anyone else?)

Cya x

Saturday, 19 July / Recently

1. A rare moment. My room looking beautifully clean and delightul amongst the despicable chaos and evidence of a young, female inhabitant. My bedroom door is permanently closed to avoid tuts and disgust at the shameful mess (think Primark sale floor situation).

2. A '#fromwhereistand' insta pic in all it's faded and over-ly edited glory, plus a cheeky sprinkling of leopard print. Introducing my new Dorothy Perkins favourite sale find. I'll struggle to ignore Dotty P's from now on (anyone else?)

3. My older sister picked up this stripy bunting for me on her recent trip to Tynemouth market. Handmade/colourful/adorable, I fill with a Kirsty Allsopp-like crafty fuzziness when I look at this. 

4. Bar Luga fish finger sandwich. Yep. 

5. A freezing and wet Northern beach made artsy and soppy by my increasingly creative photography skills (it's really just a shadow and some shoes though isn't it...)

6. Another minute section of my bedroom, photographed appropriately to avoid the traumatic mess. Is this an acceptable thing to confess to? Am I the only girl to prioritise hair curling over making a bed?

7. Helped my boyfriend to run a vintage stall a couple of weekends ago in a local village. Cute.

8. Said boyfriend captured in a moment of true adoration... ish.

9. Flouncy, stereotypical prettiness #guilty.  

Friday, 11 July / Bad Hair Day

I'd say 12 years old was around the age I stopped wearing plaits in my hair. Gone were the days of choosing which colour pen to write with and redesigning my autograph on an hourly basis. I was yearning for adulthood; complete with a 'pob' haircut, a trousersuit and a mortgage (oh how naive). Clearly changing my hairstyle was the answer to this transition...

Details: Leather Jacket - Zara, Jumpsuit - New Look, Pumps - Dorothy Perkins, Clutch - Stripes Morpeth, Watch - Michael Kors

If my 'I woke-up-like-dis' appearance was remotely acceptable to the public eye then, of course, I'd be rocking it. Unfortunately, despite what my lower region may believe on a night out, I'm not in fact Beyonce. I 'woke-up' with a nest on my head, and if teasing my messy tresses into a milkmaid's bonce has the potential to look chic, then that's just what I'll do. Cue a socially awkward hairstyle on a shopping trip this week. I received a few "ooooh"'s and "aaaah"'s (thanks mum for your constant support) but the occasional "what have you done to your head?" surfaced also. Maybe at 20 years old I'm (worringly) already feeling nostalgic and yearning to retrieve my tamagotchi or confirm the rules of Buzz Off. Perhaps this is to blame for my hair-life crisis. I'm wearing plaits, I'm looking ridiculous and I'm loving every second of it. Apparently I'm also wasting a good few hours of my life overanalysing my hair. 

On that note, see you next time for the renaissance of bunches and sequin hairbands.

Monday, 30 June / Knitted

Props to the good ol’ changing room for capturing a full length pic of the ensemble, and my conveniently white garage door (girl's gotta do what a… blah blah)

Details: Knitted tank top - Zara, High-waist trousers - Zara, Birkenstocks - Office

Zara + sale = my two favourite words, though I can’t say the same for my bank account. I feel this year I’ve reached the saddest point in clothes-buying history: a pre-written list of what I planned to purchase in Zara’s sale. Immense preparation for this day of joy. Featured in my (incredibly sensible and savvy) list, was this knitted number. To my other half, yes it’s a knitted vest and yes it has a “90s vibe” but it’s also fabulous, hence, the necessity of adding it to my all-white-errythang collection.

I’d like to say that this top (avec fake-tan-stained-neck) was my only cheeky online purchase but WHO ARE WE KIDDING. This was one in a collection of delicately packaged, shipped and squeezed-into items purchased on that fine day. There will certainly be posts to follow featuring a candy-floss pink vision of beauty in the form of a leather jacket, but I’m sure you all know the one.

Until then… x