Went to the Clothes Show in Birmingham with my textiles group. Inevitably, my highlight of the day was the Dance & Fashion Show. Beautiful models, perfect choreography and lavish clothes? Yes please! What made me pleasantly surprised was the underlying theme seen throughout the majority of the clothes exhibited: the element of fun. It was reminiscent of a child’s dressing up box (I’m thinking of the menswear trousers with asymmetrical legs in contrasting colours). I think it’s fantastic that fashion seems to have been thrown to the kids, and I think that’s because the whole done-to-death-vintage-retro-scene-you-can-buy-from-urban-outfitters is really just… old. Now the focus is on new innovations, and fresh ideas from quirky designers. So that’s my trend forecast. Throwing off the shackles of what once was, to create something different and synonymous to the 21st century. Also, loved how charismatic the models were - hoping that’ll be mirrored of numerous other runways. 

So basically, I'm a sucker for garments featuring low maturity levels and disillusioned with the whole hipster vintage tribes. 
Oh, and I'm doing a skirt project - electively inspired by Meadham Kirschoff's SS12 show. Can I just live forever in this fluff and courtney love fusion?

What tired me in the Clothes Show was the pressure and pointlessness of buying stuff. Claustrophobia inducing crowds fighting over vintage wannabe jumpers and endless shirts that all look the same make me gag. 

Now I'm off to read Rookie and procrastinate, whilst devouring some chocolate orange (it counts as one of my five a day... right?)  

(8/1/2012) Hi, happy new year! Here's a visual asterisk of the finished skirt.. 



Oh man, I love my creepers. 

Not exactly the most romantic sentiment - it's hardly romeo and juliet-esque - but I'm turning this post into a love letter for them, as they are a very dear possession of mine. Also my most recent purchase, so they're new and exciting. 

Brothel creepers are more controversial than I ever could have foreseen. Every single day I get very rude comments about their gothic-ness and general unattractiveness; which is vindication. I think the idea of non-conformist and uncoventional beauty is a very interesting one: why does beauty have to be a pseudonym for perfection? Idealistic outer perfection is just driven by consumerism, which takes advantage of the consistant flaws of certain demographics claiming to solve body issues with costly antidotes. 

Everyone should always feel brave enough to wear exactly what they want. Without needless pressures. I live my life by the simple self-questioning rule of 'what am I going to regret in fifty years time?', will the latest fashion and materialistic lust really fuel my future, or just leave me regretting ever walking into Topshop?

I think a lot about clothes, because I see fashion as freedom to self-expression. The most attractive thing is when people wear their clothes with conviction, without comparing themselves to everyone else. Without looking around before they make a decision. The courage to care and be passionate about their choices. The clothes you wear reflect how you percieve the world and how you want to be percieved - even subconsciously, I'm not just talking about Vogue fashionistas. 

One of my biggest flaws is how materialistic I am, because I use this kind of distraction as a form of escapism and subtle rebellion (if I say it enough times, I'll convince myself!). However, I don't believe that deciding to wear creepers, etcetera, is shallow. Being a slave to fashion and judging people on their appearances are all interlinked in prejudism and thus traits of being shallow. Everyone deserves the chance to be accepted and listenened to - people choose to find the people who will listen in different ways. 

Listeners are brilliant and rare. 

I find it easier to be listened to whilst wearing creepers because they make me feel more confident - which sounds shallow, but it just makes me feel more myself. Which is why rejection based on fashion sense is sometimes the most hurtful. Because judgements based on clothing choice can be made in a second, and overlook the fact that when people get dressed, they are choosing who they are, how they want to be perceived and how they want to express their personality. So please, if you want to do one nice thing today, have the courage to be kind about people who don't dress like everyone else - no one deserves to be ostracized because of what they look like. Don't be fashion conscious, be fashion courageous. Be who you want - let your clothes talk for you. It's not shallow to allow your dress sense let others know that you are here, you are present and that you have a voice. Just remember to listen what other people are saying about themselves, you might be pleasantly surprised.



I never fail to fall in love at concerts. 

I'm writing this at half one in the morning so excuse my lack of everything but I am consumed by such great affection for 'We Were Evergreen' that I have to share it with the world. I went to see Charlie Simpson at the Concorde 2 in Brighton tonight with two close friends and he was amazing - even better than last time! So I won't go on much further about Charlie because I waxed lyrical about him in that post, but he's such a beautiful person inside and out.. why can't we just be best friends? 

The third support band for Charlie [first two aren't worth a mention] were a trio of well-dressed individuals onstage with an odd combination of instruments. We Were Evergreen put so much passion into their music, and it worked so well - with technical parts and catchy lyrics. I can't really define it, as I know they may sound too 'twee' for most people, but I think they sound really different and I'm in love with them. [NB: to anyone in the future, a fool-proof way to win my heart is by taking me to see live music.. predictable but true.]

Humble and well-mannered, when We Were Evergreen talked to the audience, they did so with french accents! Hailing from Paris, Michael, Fabienne and William are geeky and instantly likeable (and perhaps they are appealing to my francophile side as well). Perfect counterpart to the dark brooding music firmly cemented on MP3; always good to have a band which unleashes your sunshine side (I'm sounding very multi-sided in this post, this might be down to my shape revision for maths gcse - or just that I'm a totally technicolour person with many many interests. Yes.) 

How could you not love a band who plays on toy pianos?



This is the overdue '45 Days of Summer' post. Nothing like an Indian summer...

So one picture per day, for 45 days. Not everything was picture worthy, but it's an honest portrayal because of that. Now please excuse me whilst I go to simultaneously turn the radiator up and grab another sweater... Perhaps they'll be a [x] days of winter to appear next year?



Almost every weekend I've been spending a rough five pounds at the local store to perk up my weekend. Unfortunately, I nearly always end up purchasing these things on a Sunday and queueing behind sensible lovely people with sensible things like roast and vegetables in their carts whilst I'm juggling kinder eggs and green nail varnishes.

Temporary Tattoos! Homage to Frank Iero with every mark on my neck... I've also bought some henna cones and have occupied my time icing designs onto myself. HENNA SMELLS SO GOOD ARGH I'M ADDICTED.

I'm fifteen now; my birthday was on Wednesday. I went to see Noah and the Whale on Tuesday and they were incredible! Every song was poetry and I love it when the music pulses through your blood. Noise hangovers are the mark of a good concert!

This is a birthday present from my beautiful friend, who obviously listens to my incoherent ramblings! It's a 30 seconds to mars inside joke, and I'm very into my daily Leto dosage.

CREEPERS. They're so comfortable and sweet and suede and height enhancing. Today I was informed by a girl in vans that they are 'goth' shoes. I'm okay with this.

To conclude my week in shoddily taken pictures, (nearly all are mobile phone captured - we are living in the moment people!) here is my face. In case you've forgotten what I look like. I've taken the liberty of turning all previous shots into black and white so no inquiries as to my levels of sophistication fall at my creeper clad feet. Crushing them all with the power of colour filters!