A room of my own

So most of us have flown the nest already and if you haven't then a vast majority of you will be this September (in fact most of us have flown the nest and have now returned back to it for the summer bothering mummy bird for worms, at this point I hope you are realising this is a metaphor.)


So those of you who are moving will probably be undertaking the joys and delights of uni accommodation (you can take those adjectives as literal or sarcastic because I loved my halls but I know plenty who didn't...) Now those in the know will tell you that your future room is most likely not in Laurence Llewelyn Bowen's top ten. It is more likely to feel like a prison cell or that room in the villa on holiday that everyone shotgun's not to have.

(even with these shiny happy people trying to sell this room to me its looking pretty bleak)

But this is to be your home for the next year, (well not year, on and off about 9 months) and who knows what these walls will see (well we second years have a mild idea from what we can remember and it ain't always pretty.) It is at this point that I should point out that people in student housing this year will probably also be suffering from the same bare walls so this blog is equally aimed at you.


And so my point is how on earth can we get around the uni rules that force us to have bare walls and eat off ikea white plates? Well being the lovely generous person I am, I am willing to pass on my secrets to all those with a room of there own this year with Martha Thursday's infinite guide to uni room clobber.


So the problem is you cant start nailing picture frames into walls or getting the Sanderson wallpaper out but a few band posters is all a little bit circa year 8. The solution? Get creative. My uni room last year saw the extent of my collaging skills, I would show you but there appears to be no decent photo evidence as any photos would have been taken at 4am when everyone was a little worse for wear. So here are some examples from slightly more responsible, slightly less intoxicated students.

(The look I attempted to channel in my room, mine wasn't quite as chirpy or clean..)

(yup all tiny fragments of magazines, what a freak)

OK so the last photo might require you to have the patience of a saint to go through with it but all the others are very achievable looks to have in your uni room, they simply require a few hours set aside, a few stacks of magazines and about £10 worth of blu-tack, and because its totally terry temporary your uni can't complain! And don't stop at magazines or photographs, I had a flat mate that dedicated his entire walls to his gap year memories dispersing ticket stubs and postcards amongst his photos. Or why not try a new way of keeping track of your friends, forget facebook how about a wall of friends as seen below (God I sound like I'm presenting art attack or something, Neil Buchanan eat your heart out!)

Wall stickers are my uni room vice, they are the perfect antidote to concrete, plasterboard and breeze blocks. They add a splash of personal flair to a room and then they just peel off when your done (though if you find they're a bit stuck on don't just pull run a hair dryer over the top!) I usually go for birds because I find they're non offensive but there's a load to chose from!

(voilà)

(I know no normal student would go for this but how brilliant?!)

And that's pretty much all I'd suggest really (sounding like a smart arse, my advice is by no means gospel.) But I wouldn't buy ikea plates everyone will have them and you'll get confused, NEXT do equally priced ones with variations other than white. Also don't forget to bring things from home, it will make your room feel more like your own, oh and nice bedding always makes a difference!

In this excitement I went on some mad rampage on the urban outfitters and in my blind excitement ordered about £80 worth of stuff for my new house. This morning it arrived and as I was tearing open my ridiculous items that I didn't need I realised fashion nerd was becoming home interior nerd, I think I need to be taken away to rehab for a while where they'll keep me away from exotic lamps and the ikea catalogue, I mean who really needs bird salt and pepper shakers?

(home tweet home)

For Emma

As the Harry Potter nights close in and I begin to trawl the Internet for Daniel Radcliffe's phone number (I'm figuring now that he's no longer got that Potter gig he wont have a way to keep himself distracted figuring out what to do with all those mounds of cash he's sat on, so I'm thinking that I can provide him with a solution in the way that he can distract me with all his mounds of cash.) I can't help but feel really sad, for me, having grown up with Harry Potts, the excitement of a new Harry Potter film coming out totally top trumps Christmas, or getting laid or buying new shoes (which makes me even more sad) so I cant help but feel I owe it all at least a small tribute, and my tribute goes to Emma.

Now back in the day this girl wasn't in my best books. I remember watching newsround when they announced that auditions would be held for the part of Hermione and I literally couldn't hold my urine (well not literally) I was there pen and paper ready to launch into my destiny as Hermione Granger. But low and behold I was too young and this left a bitter taste in my, ehem, 9-year-old mouth. But after much heart break it came to my attention that if I couldn't do it then she should... and then she was born, my first real idol.

Emma, for me represented a dream world, she was the living breathing epitome of everything I loved in my child hood, harry potter, a (very long lost) acting dream and quintessential British style. I had never in my life been so infatuated or mesmerised by a girl, and as a result a slight obsession began to build. I would buy any magazine with her face on the front and kick myself if I missed one. I loved reading about her life and I loved her so much. It wasn't until I was in tesco the other day and I picked up this months Harper's Bazaar  not being my usual choice and at £4.20 a pop purely to read her interview, that I realised that the same school girl delight I had over Emma still existed.

(some of her appearances I have coveted)

Being the actress of our generation Emma didn't just take a whirl wind affect on my life. I remember when she really came into her own after the 4th instalment (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) in that dress that so famously launched our Emma into womanhood. I remember one particularly charming lad sat behind me in the cinema saying at that moment; 'I'd so bone Hermione now.'

(Emma wearing the dress that made her a lady, I seem to remember trying to save up for replica earrings)

And Emma didn't stop there. She seemed to sophisticate as we did (I say this because I always seemed to have had a wild appreciation for what she wore, but then again love is blind.) She did something that my future husband did not manage (Daniel Radcliffe, see Martha Radcliffe just roles off the tongue), she stepped away from Hermione and became a style icon, she became Emma. In February this year she declared her true love, on valentines day, for fashion when she won the Elle Style Award for a style icon (well you would with all that money... see, still bitter.)

#

(Elle Style awards, 14/02/2011)

(Watson's Burberry campaign)

And Emma didn't stop there, with her Burberry campaign and pixie hair safely under her hat she can look forward to the not so magical future that she's always wanted. I think for some one who has pretty much had their social life stolen by JK Rowling (when asked at an E4 interview she didn't know what ROFL meant, tragic), she's a pretty cool person. And Emma (who is too busy being picked on at Brown's to read this) although you never replied to my fan mail and I would have made a supreme under age Hermione, I believe I owe a lot of my childhood happiness to you, thank you, everyone at Fashion Nerd (all 1 of us) wishes you the best for the future.

Premieres through the ages.....

Gentlemen's relish

So for the entire last week I was completely infatuated with the idea of doing a London blog, a) because I spent my entire weekend there so it would be super easy to find inspiration, b) because I totes love London and c) I have come over with a ridiculous case of Made in Chelsea obsession. See, this is what happens when you go to uni, your expectations go way way up and any life but Chelsea life seems pointless.


 But when I came to actually type/write (circle correct verb) my brilliant London blog I found myself with very little material, I had no photos to work with,  no ground breaking ideas, no clever little quirks to make you all laugh. And also who wants to really here blab on and on about how much I hate my life and how much I love Caggie's and Millie's and Hugo's blah blah blah blurghhhh.....


However my whirlwind trip up to London did bring something to my attention. Standing at the tube station/ sitting on the tube you can't help but indulge in a little guy spy (play on words, I'm so clever) and me oh my did I spy! Now I'm a girl who likes a good dresser (my biggest crush being Mark Ronson hello!!!!) and can those London boys dress?! Now I'm not talking about bed hair, 10 year old trackies looks like your either really hungover or just rolled out of the gym look. No no I'm talking about cool, taste-ful, clean shaven, on trend, looks like you just stepped off the cat walk look. 

(oh Mr. Mark why can't all men dress like you? I could have literally put a whole gallery of images here!)

Now usually these boys are few and far between (like trying to find David Gandy in Primark) but in London they were popping up everywhere (maybe I just attract beautiful men?) And this got me thinking, why can't all boys dress like this, why can't they dress how women WANT them to dress?


But what do women want men to dress like? Doing a bit of research I came to one very particular common ground that women tend to enjoy about a man. The suit, the smart dresser, the slick kid.

(David Gandy, D&G's hottest model looking lip lickingly good in a suit.)

As we saw in the latest series of the apprentice, Leon received great applause for his dapper dressing and school boy charm. So what is it about this magical two piece that gets our knickers in such a tight twist? Well the answer is simple, no one in a suit is gonna mess you about, no one in a suit is going to use you purely for that junk in your trunk, no one in a suit is going to shout 'getcha tits out for the lads' or so they'd have us believe.

(Leon Doyle, rocking the classic pea coat, adorable.)

The suit connotes wealth and class and sophistication. You're gonna have fun with that guy in a suit, he's going to take care of you and hold your hand, and really truly isn't that what we want? To be rescued? The suit says dinner at the Ritz, champagne, dancing and silk sheets. Trousers that sit lower than your cheeks say trip to ASDA, frozen pizza and a scratchy sleeping bag. Nahhhh aaaaahhhh, nooooo thank you!

(Come on boys do you honestly want to look like what's his face from one direction?)

But surely we aren't expecting black tie attire everyday, and surely that's not what I was spotting on the tube? So what was it about all these boys in London that was so very aesthetically pleasing to me? Well they all had something that just drives me wild. Style. Now if you think about women I'm sure you describe every one of your friends style as different to one another, now think about your guy friends, are you conjuring up the same mental image as I am? Jeans, t-shirt, Superdry/ Jack Wills jumper and /or gilet and toms/ trainers? Yeppp I thought so.

(Literally this could be any boy I know from behind, wouldn't be able to pick them out from a line up, I was tempted to use photos of people I actually know, but then I'm not protecting their un-stylish privacy.)

Some might argue that there's just not enough choice of men's clothing or that to look stylish costs you your entire student loan. I beg to differ. Pretty sure that these boys travelling by tube aren't living the Hugo Taylor life style. I'm not asking you boys to wear jeans so tight that you will be arrested for indecent exposure or wear suits in bed. I'm just saying DROP THE SUPER DRY, approach a new shop maybe go mad go vintage! And there is nothing wrong with a little pink.

NOTE TO MALE READERS OVER THE AGE OF 50- this blog need not apply, your pretty much past the stylish stage try and stick to classic instead, no skinnys or piercings for you!