Here is my second guest post for the lovely blog Chic and Cheerful, please follow the link bellow to read. And whilst you're there make sure you have a little look around at what else Chic and Cheerful have to offer!
http://www.chicandcheerful.net/2012/02/friday-fashion-tip-how-to-rock-50s.html
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Doing it doggy style
So you know when you just have one of those days. Today is one of those days. It started off OK, I had an apricot brioche for breakfast and who's not happy when they've got a french patisserie item in their mouth? But then my bus was an hour late, my sneezing ratio has hit a high, what with me carrying around a loo roll in my bag. And then to top it all off I just found a comment from one of my older blog posts by some nasty little minx called (better not give her a name mention in case she's the editor of Vogue or something) basically telling me that I'm not 'all that' and I don't have a clue what I was talking about and couldn't possibly consider myself a 'serious professional fashion blogger.'
I felt like I'd had a dressing down. I felt like what Andy must have felt like when Miranda Priestly let rip in The Devil Wears Prada or how Carrie must have felt when she got a bad review in the New Yorker in Sex and the City 2. But my bad review was from a nobody which makes it even worse.
And so it is times like this that we should look at the canines of this world for inspiration. I'm pretty sure that if I told my idiot terrier that I didn't think his tail wagging skills were up to much he would only waggle that little thing more. So I am going to take a leaf outta that book and write a stonking blog about how to achieve a great looking pooch.
It may seem like I'm going slightly off on a tangent here but let me explain. I am trying to get around all my requests for blog posts and one was dog fashion. Also we have just been talking about dogs. Also I am trying to write more about fashion again but keep it fun and what better way to do so. And finally dogs are the very best way of cheering yourself up as my hungover friend taught me on valentines day when she said 'Google image some Valentines puppies and show them to me, that will make me feel better!'
And so here is the ultimate guide to doggy (not dodgy) fashion.
1. Minimalism.
For those dogs who don't have time in the morning for loads of pampering, perhaps you're a working dog and a tutu would get in the way of all that drug searching or sheep herding you've got to do but you're still feeling like you want to make the most of your fur? Go for the obviously utilitarian fashion essential of the collar but mix it up by perhaps expressing yourself with a few flowers or a neckerchief. You'll have them bitches howling.
2. When fur isn't enough.
There's no shame in it, we've all done it. Gone out truly believing that our dalmatian spots alone will be enough to keep us dogs warm, only to come home with our tails in between our legs because, lets face it we ain't no Husky. A doggy jumper is the perfect half way point between being totally cosy and too cute for words (or should that be barks?)
(Oh my gosh, need I say anything? Who needs a man with one of these in your life?)
3.Haute Pooch-ure (meant to sound like couture not sure if it works)
Sometimes you're not just any dog. You're not some RSPCA pooch they found tied to a park gate and thought was a cat because you're such a mongrel they can't tell, you are the real deal. Like a Maltese or a Bichon Frise. You're like Kayne of the dog world and you wanna show them bitches that you are a pure breed with some dollar. Try Harrods for some truly extravagant pup styling. Its just a shame you cant do the 'vogue' dance move otherwise you'd be all set for cat or should I say dogwalk!
4. Indie
You're a pup with an alternative vibe. You tend to stray off the parks path and like the alternative scene such as behind the dust bin truck or even, if you're daring. venture down the odd badger hole to hang out with those of entirely different breed. You're individuality shouldn't end where your fur stops growing. Your owner might have something called featherlocks, well now you can beat them to the punch with your very own puppylocks, just make sure you listen out for cat bells, a scratched ear where a cat has swung for your feathery fancies doesn't live up to your cool vibe.
5. Dress up
We've all heard of party animals well what about party pets? Puppies enjoy a bit of Snoop Dog (or maybe its snoopy dog) as much as the rest of us and so what to wear to a themed bash? No one wants to look like a dogs dinner! Well the rule is the more ridiculous the better. As a dog you have the advantage of 4 legs meaning you make wonderful cars, dinosaurs or food items!
I felt like I'd had a dressing down. I felt like what Andy must have felt like when Miranda Priestly let rip in The Devil Wears Prada or how Carrie must have felt when she got a bad review in the New Yorker in Sex and the City 2. But my bad review was from a nobody which makes it even worse.
And so it is times like this that we should look at the canines of this world for inspiration. I'm pretty sure that if I told my idiot terrier that I didn't think his tail wagging skills were up to much he would only waggle that little thing more. So I am going to take a leaf outta that book and write a stonking blog about how to achieve a great looking pooch.
It may seem like I'm going slightly off on a tangent here but let me explain. I am trying to get around all my requests for blog posts and one was dog fashion. Also we have just been talking about dogs. Also I am trying to write more about fashion again but keep it fun and what better way to do so. And finally dogs are the very best way of cheering yourself up as my hungover friend taught me on valentines day when she said 'Google image some Valentines puppies and show them to me, that will make me feel better!'
(see can't you feel your troubles melting away?)
And so here is the ultimate guide to doggy (not dodgy) fashion.
1. Minimalism.
For those dogs who don't have time in the morning for loads of pampering, perhaps you're a working dog and a tutu would get in the way of all that drug searching or sheep herding you've got to do but you're still feeling like you want to make the most of your fur? Go for the obviously utilitarian fashion essential of the collar but mix it up by perhaps expressing yourself with a few flowers or a neckerchief. You'll have them bitches howling.
(Try a crochet collar for a homely look)
(or if village people is more your style?)
2. When fur isn't enough.
There's no shame in it, we've all done it. Gone out truly believing that our dalmatian spots alone will be enough to keep us dogs warm, only to come home with our tails in between our legs because, lets face it we ain't no Husky. A doggy jumper is the perfect half way point between being totally cosy and too cute for words (or should that be barks?)
(Oh my gosh, need I say anything? Who needs a man with one of these in your life?)
3.Haute Pooch-ure (meant to sound like couture not sure if it works)
Sometimes you're not just any dog. You're not some RSPCA pooch they found tied to a park gate and thought was a cat because you're such a mongrel they can't tell, you are the real deal. Like a Maltese or a Bichon Frise. You're like Kayne of the dog world and you wanna show them bitches that you are a pure breed with some dollar. Try Harrods for some truly extravagant pup styling. Its just a shame you cant do the 'vogue' dance move otherwise you'd be all set for cat or should I say dogwalk!
(Boston Terrier wears Juicy Couture)
(Pug wears Mulberry)
4. Indie
You're a pup with an alternative vibe. You tend to stray off the parks path and like the alternative scene such as behind the dust bin truck or even, if you're daring. venture down the odd badger hole to hang out with those of entirely different breed. You're individuality shouldn't end where your fur stops growing. Your owner might have something called featherlocks, well now you can beat them to the punch with your very own puppylocks, just make sure you listen out for cat bells, a scratched ear where a cat has swung for your feathery fancies doesn't live up to your cool vibe.
5. Dress up
We've all heard of party animals well what about party pets? Puppies enjoy a bit of Snoop Dog (or maybe its snoopy dog) as much as the rest of us and so what to wear to a themed bash? No one wants to look like a dogs dinner! Well the rule is the more ridiculous the better. As a dog you have the advantage of 4 legs meaning you make wonderful cars, dinosaurs or food items!
(Look out here comes the spider-dog!)
(Great for all those Halloween doos dogs get invited to...)
(a-ma-zing, if you have the patience to place burger king crowns on ya mutt)
(idog)
(of course the alternative would to be to shave your poodle into a camel, he doesn't look all that happy though?)
(and if you have a particular specialist interest, dogs are catered for in that department, may the force be with you)
I am literally embarrassed by the state of that blog, it really has gone to the dogs. Maybe that nasty commenter was right. I guess I'm not a serious blogger and I know for sure I am definitely not a professional because no one is paying me. What I know is that looking at a whippet dressed as a Star Wars AT-AT has made me feel a whole lot better.
Next week will be fashion hangovers, so you best you hope you haven't worn anything to be ashamed of! See you next Thursday for some more ridiculous amateur fun!
This blog is dedicated to the three legged dogs of the world- keep on hopping Pippin.
Friday, 10 February 2012
V day
I couldn't not write a blog about this really. I think it would actually raise some complaints. I had some real requests this week, which I will try and fulfil but I can't help but be the glorious giver of love on this seasonal holiday.
First off I would like to point out that valentines day is not actually here for no reason. Poor old St. Valentine, he put in just as much effort as any other saint and no one wants to come to his party, every one always goes to Patrick's party so why not his? And here's a little bit of history for you kids. Although there have been many apparent St Valentines there is one particular story that sticks out; an imprisoned Valentine actually sent the first "valentine" greeting himself after he fell in love with a young girl--possibly his jailor's daughter--who visited him during his confinement. Before his death, it is alleged that he wrote her a letter signed "From your Valentine." (Yes I googled.)
So there you are, quit your jibber jabber about it not being a real Holiday when I see plenty of you out enjoying the delights of St Paddy's day when your not even Irish! (though it is an excellent day for a certain Martha who was born that day, Paddy always tries to steel the glory.)
I bet you are all sat there waiting for me to tell you just how much I hate Valentines day, being the cynical misery I am. Well I hate to disappoint you but I don't hate it. So many people claim to hate Valentines day, even couples do but I'm gonna prove you wrong and explain to you exactly why I like Valentines day and why you do too (even though you won't admit it.)
I am single. We all know that because I run around Bristol in my bipolar phase either moaning about how much I hate being on my own or how much I absolutely love being on my own. But the point is in my whole wide life I have received a grand total of 2 Valentines cards. Both off the same boy from a naively young relationship, where I was presented with a card and a wire sculpture which I mistook for a garden ornament and promptly rusted away like the relationship. But these two occasions were not my best Valentines not at all.
My mum has always, since I was born, got me a Valentines card. And to me that's just spectacular. She even once bought me a Valentines cracker that just made my day. And although my Mum might be a far cry from Francis Boulle, or Mark Ronson or that model I found in my Elle magazine recently or some other bizarre looking boy I regularly dream about, that card means a lot. It means that even if I end up totally alone for the rest of my life (having to wipe the tears off my mouse matt) and I wear those closed toe sandals and own a pleated paisley skirt, that some body will still love me, and I'd forget that if it wasn't Valentines.
There are many other perks to being single on Valentines day. There is the fact that the majority of your single friends will want to go out and eat food and get on it like a car bonnet, which sounds like a hell of a time to me. That's the kind of stuff I would choose to do on my birthday so the fact that I get to do it on a cold February week day suits me down to a T. There is also the fabulous fact that all the super markets sell these glorious 'dinner for 2' deals. As if any self respecting couple would actually buy this deal?! Firstly Valentines is the one day a couple is allowed to be sickeningly open about their relationship in a public venue and secondly those meals don't feed two! So it is our jobs as singletons to snap up that delicious dine in for 2 meal and enjoy it for 1 and thank St Valentine we don't have to share our 3 course meal and bottle of wine with another half.
See, you spend so much time trying to distract yourself from the fact you're single that you end up having the most fun of the year. Valentines also has the whole notion of hope. That maybe this year some lovely young man WILL tell me just how wonderful I am (not so much inform me of this rather just remind me.) But I have to say a giant 'I Love You' bear is not at the top of my list. On top of all this, lets face it who doesn't love a theme?
Singletons aren't the only cynical sausages in this equation though. LOADS of couples I know 'don't really do Valentines.' Its like they're trying to prove they don't need material possessions in their relationship because it's too perfect. Rubbish. It's like that age old lie that presents aren't the best part of Christmas. Couples should embrace Valentines day, make the most of it because one day they might not be a couple and have to distract themselves in the ways suggested above. And surely, being a couple, you are sick to death of people like myself moaning at your public displays of affection? Yes? In which case enjoy the one day of the year that I am legally bound from gagging when you kiss in the street.
I think that men might also hate Valentines day? Am I right? I would guess that this is because you feel that it is your responsibility to declare your love for someone and that it might not be reciprocated. Well here's a new idea for you. In Japan it is only women who give gifts (mainly chocolates) on Valentines because women don't usually do that. Men return the favour on White Day on 14th March (I always seem to get my white day presents three days late on 17th March which coincides with my birthday...)
Boys you needn't worry. I would literally be over the moon if anyone told me they loved me, or at least thought I was alright and not because I'm desperate (I'm not, I'm really not) but because it's nice to hear that, you know? As I'm sure none of you would be at all freaked out if I told you I wanted to marry you and have your babies. But I'm sure if you presented that cynical girl with a Valentines gesture she would soon learn to love you and that 'I love you' bear.
Right so there you go. That's why I don't hate Valentines day and why you shouldn't. And if you're still feeling cynical then remember someone out there is always gonna love you! Even if she is your ageing mother! I know at least two lucky singletons that will be getting a Valentines this year (emoticon wink face.)
Happy Valentines!
Anonymous xxx
P.S if there are any living breathing men out there who were planning on Valentining me, I like flowers, especially if they're from the real flower company. I understand that they're might be quite a few of you, but that's fine I can probably have about 7 bunches of flowers in my room without it looking OTT.
First off I would like to point out that valentines day is not actually here for no reason. Poor old St. Valentine, he put in just as much effort as any other saint and no one wants to come to his party, every one always goes to Patrick's party so why not his? And here's a little bit of history for you kids. Although there have been many apparent St Valentines there is one particular story that sticks out; an imprisoned Valentine actually sent the first "valentine" greeting himself after he fell in love with a young girl--possibly his jailor's daughter--who visited him during his confinement. Before his death, it is alleged that he wrote her a letter signed "From your Valentine." (Yes I googled.)
(There he is being all romantic, using his best moves, and you lot are raining all over his parade!)
So there you are, quit your jibber jabber about it not being a real Holiday when I see plenty of you out enjoying the delights of St Paddy's day when your not even Irish! (though it is an excellent day for a certain Martha who was born that day, Paddy always tries to steel the glory.)
I bet you are all sat there waiting for me to tell you just how much I hate Valentines day, being the cynical misery I am. Well I hate to disappoint you but I don't hate it. So many people claim to hate Valentines day, even couples do but I'm gonna prove you wrong and explain to you exactly why I like Valentines day and why you do too (even though you won't admit it.)
(The Black Eyed Peas asked 'where is the love?' well there it is)
I am single. We all know that because I run around Bristol in my bipolar phase either moaning about how much I hate being on my own or how much I absolutely love being on my own. But the point is in my whole wide life I have received a grand total of 2 Valentines cards. Both off the same boy from a naively young relationship, where I was presented with a card and a wire sculpture which I mistook for a garden ornament and promptly rusted away like the relationship. But these two occasions were not my best Valentines not at all.
My mum has always, since I was born, got me a Valentines card. And to me that's just spectacular. She even once bought me a Valentines cracker that just made my day. And although my Mum might be a far cry from Francis Boulle, or Mark Ronson or that model I found in my Elle magazine recently or some other bizarre looking boy I regularly dream about, that card means a lot. It means that even if I end up totally alone for the rest of my life (having to wipe the tears off my mouse matt) and I wear those closed toe sandals and own a pleated paisley skirt, that some body will still love me, and I'd forget that if it wasn't Valentines.
There are many other perks to being single on Valentines day. There is the fact that the majority of your single friends will want to go out and eat food and get on it like a car bonnet, which sounds like a hell of a time to me. That's the kind of stuff I would choose to do on my birthday so the fact that I get to do it on a cold February week day suits me down to a T. There is also the fabulous fact that all the super markets sell these glorious 'dinner for 2' deals. As if any self respecting couple would actually buy this deal?! Firstly Valentines is the one day a couple is allowed to be sickeningly open about their relationship in a public venue and secondly those meals don't feed two! So it is our jobs as singletons to snap up that delicious dine in for 2 meal and enjoy it for 1 and thank St Valentine we don't have to share our 3 course meal and bottle of wine with another half.
(Far better than a snooty restaurant)
See, you spend so much time trying to distract yourself from the fact you're single that you end up having the most fun of the year. Valentines also has the whole notion of hope. That maybe this year some lovely young man WILL tell me just how wonderful I am (not so much inform me of this rather just remind me.) But I have to say a giant 'I Love You' bear is not at the top of my list. On top of all this, lets face it who doesn't love a theme?
(I have to turn these away every year)
Singletons aren't the only cynical sausages in this equation though. LOADS of couples I know 'don't really do Valentines.' Its like they're trying to prove they don't need material possessions in their relationship because it's too perfect. Rubbish. It's like that age old lie that presents aren't the best part of Christmas. Couples should embrace Valentines day, make the most of it because one day they might not be a couple and have to distract themselves in the ways suggested above. And surely, being a couple, you are sick to death of people like myself moaning at your public displays of affection? Yes? In which case enjoy the one day of the year that I am legally bound from gagging when you kiss in the street.
I think that men might also hate Valentines day? Am I right? I would guess that this is because you feel that it is your responsibility to declare your love for someone and that it might not be reciprocated. Well here's a new idea for you. In Japan it is only women who give gifts (mainly chocolates) on Valentines because women don't usually do that. Men return the favour on White Day on 14th March (I always seem to get my white day presents three days late on 17th March which coincides with my birthday...)
(successful White Day all round)
Boys you needn't worry. I would literally be over the moon if anyone told me they loved me, or at least thought I was alright and not because I'm desperate (I'm not, I'm really not) but because it's nice to hear that, you know? As I'm sure none of you would be at all freaked out if I told you I wanted to marry you and have your babies. But I'm sure if you presented that cynical girl with a Valentines gesture she would soon learn to love you and that 'I love you' bear.
(As your Grandma might say, it don't cost nothing to be nice)
Right so there you go. That's why I don't hate Valentines day and why you shouldn't. And if you're still feeling cynical then remember someone out there is always gonna love you! Even if she is your ageing mother! I know at least two lucky singletons that will be getting a Valentines this year (emoticon wink face.)
Happy Valentines!
Anonymous xxx
P.S if there are any living breathing men out there who were planning on Valentining me, I like flowers, especially if they're from the real flower company. I understand that they're might be quite a few of you, but that's fine I can probably have about 7 bunches of flowers in my room without it looking OTT.
Saturday, 4 February 2012
Brush yourself off
I am in a bad mood. I am sat here with a high pony in my hair, a silly cartoon t shirt, and a face of make up that Priscilla queen of the desert would be proud of. Why, you might ask? Because I am being Martha Marbles', Jenna Marbles alter ego and the most hilarious stint of what was meant to be a fantastic edition to my blog entries.
So I spent this morning dolling myself up, completely humiliating myself in front of my father by sitting in my room and talking into my computer filming my own Jenna Marbles spoof. But unfortunately my computer decided I wasn't as funny as I think I am and is refusing to let me edit any more than 7 seconds of video. I'm hoping that some day this blog will go up so I won't tell you all the hysterical ins and outs of of my completely degrading video et al.
So in light of all this, when I was deciding after another knock back this week, whether I was going to sit miserably in my house, (like Spongebob when he has vacation at the Krusty Krab, such a funny episode), or whether I was going to man up and get on with my blog I decided to blog about how to make yourself feel better when things don't go your way.
Right so your computer has crashed or you've cheated on your boyfriend or your dogs lost a leg? Whatever it is this will sort you out. What you definitely don't want to be doing is googling crappy magazine advice that will tell you to go for a run, or go to counselling. Don't do that. That will make you feel about a million times worse because you will be out of breath and out of money paying for some big toothed snobby councillor lady. Here's what no one tells you will make you feel better but definitely maybe will.
I have also used only Disney images throughout this blog because it was an accident at first but then I realised we can learn a good few life lessons from old Walt. Plus the pictures are so whimsical they're bound to cheer even the grumpiest grump up.
1. Get Drunk
OK, so this is the obvious one. If you're feeling shit then the get out of jail free card is usually this one because you'll be so blind gone that you don't know your own name let alone the fact that just broke up with your boyfriend. Also if you're getting drunk you're probably going out and if you're going out then you're probably looking pretty damn fine and attracting all kinds of lovely suitors (or ageing toothless married men.) And the next day you will be so ashamed of whatever huge mistake you made whilst you were drunk that you won't care about what you were upset about to begin with.
RISKS AND SIDE EFFECTS: Being drunk can often cause emotions to run wild and you could end up A:mouthing off to whoever your situation may concern, B: feeling worse about your current situation which can lead to running mascara therefore not attracting potential suitors (apart from perhaps the really hard core ones.)
2. Be Angry
I have found this method really works. Like for example just then when my blog just blew up in my face I could have been totally miserable quit Martha Thursday forever and sulked for days and days. But instead I wanted to show my blog a thing or two so decided to write this cracking little post. If you're sad about something it will play on your mind and make it worse. Where as if you're angry it forces you to do something about it. I have always felt much better after an argument if I have filled someones squash bottle with salt or hacked their facebook account.
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: Don't let your anger turn to violence, no one's going to be getting over anything if you can't have a lie detector test on Jezza K because your relationship's too violent. And equally don't channel your anger into the wrong people. Don't cause further arguments by telling your mum her lasagna sucks because your annoyed with your lecturer.
3. Go to Disney Land
This is a totally fail safe way of making yourself feel better. The collection of whimsical characters will either completely lift your spirits or send you into an angry haze by the sickening display of childhood charm in which case you will have achieved the above step to feeling better. Just join with your fellow brethren and sing the gospel 'it's a small world after all' and watch your troubles melt away.
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: A trip to Disney land is not the cheapest way to cheer yourself up, and you could wind up feeling a little more depressed once all the happy mickey hype is over and you've racked up a huge debt. Yes that Indiana Jones Mickey Mouse stuffed toy is simply Divine but he's not going to help pay your electricity bill.
4.Get a Pet
Sometimes it can feel like there is no one there. And you go out of your way to listen to completely ridiculous over the top sad songs that the Verve wrote about real tragedies like their father's death and you apply it to the fact that Tesco ran out of milk, or you handed in your coursework a day late. Soon enough you'll snap out of it because you saw that really sad advert on the telly about the kids in Africa and it will put your silly little problem into perspective. But until then you're gonna want some unconditional love. Now usually experts would say go to your Mother for this but she can be even crueler than the rest of the world when it comes to being honest because she's been there before. So get a dog, a cat, a hamster, a rabbit whatever just something you can cry away to and who won't give a toss about the fact you pawned your Grandma's wig for a can of special brew, just so long as you give em' a baby bell (don't give your rabbit a baby bell.)
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: You have to be super sure you actually want the responsibility of a small animal in your life. I have a friend who bought a bunny because she was hungover, luckily she is a sensible caring girl who took care of her rabbit. But if my brother had done that I'm pretty sure that rabbit would be on that RSPCA urgent appeal ad as we speak.
5. Pray for it to Snow
Snow is God's way of saying, 'she sure needs a break.' Snow is the ultimate excuse to do absolutely bugger all. What better way to avoid a deadline or an awkward situation than blaming the unstoppable force of nature. You can sit in and eat canned food (though that's just any day of the week for one of my flat mates) watching New Girl and Gossip Girl or any program that features a girl you fancy a little bit who's gonna make you feel even more sorry for yourself.
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: Does what it says on the tin, you are avoiding the situation. The problem won't melt away with the snow.
6. Kiss Someone
This works threefold.
1. You kiss someone so lovely that you feel so happy and in love and protected and cared for that all your troubles seem so far away.
2.You kiss someone Just My Luck styley. For those of you who haven't seen the film old Li-Lo is super super lucky and she kisses someone super duper unlucky and they switch luck. (That is literally it so don't bother watching the movie it is as bad as it sounds.) So there you go, kiss a lottery winner and your luck is bound to change.
3. You kiss someone vile, I'm talking absolutely wretched, looks like the Gruffalo's brother. You will feel supremely more attractive after that slippery experience.
RISK AND SIDE AFFECTS: Don't kiss ANYONE you know, lets not open up that can of worms, far more trouble than its worth. Don't kiss anyone in a relationship, you will end up with some unhealthy bruising.
7. Blog
And finally we have the ultimate way of feeling better, venting. A problem shared is a problem halved, and if your blogging to the whole online community you've halved your problem precisely 10,000,000 times. I don't think there's a problem any more.
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: Be very careful what you say. I once wrote a blog talking about one person I don't even speak to anymore and about 5 different people I do still speak to thought I was talking about them. People get paranoid so you have been warned.
OK so that was the very late and completely improvised edition of this weeks Martha Thursday. I'm thinking of calling my whole blog Martha Thursday now, rather than fashion nerd, because I don't write about fashion all that often anymore, what do you think? (Not expecting a response you never respond just bulking out the end of the blog really.)
Anyway, I hope this week is a better week for everyone, I know quite a few faces that weren't smiling last week. But February is finally here so stop drip drip dropping those little January showers and put on a sunny grin! (Gosh how lame was that? Wait is it lame to say lame?)
So I spent this morning dolling myself up, completely humiliating myself in front of my father by sitting in my room and talking into my computer filming my own Jenna Marbles spoof. But unfortunately my computer decided I wasn't as funny as I think I am and is refusing to let me edit any more than 7 seconds of video. I'm hoping that some day this blog will go up so I won't tell you all the hysterical ins and outs of of my completely degrading video et al.
So in light of all this, when I was deciding after another knock back this week, whether I was going to sit miserably in my house, (like Spongebob when he has vacation at the Krusty Krab, such a funny episode), or whether I was going to man up and get on with my blog I decided to blog about how to make yourself feel better when things don't go your way.
(Alice is proof that crying is not the best way to get over a situation)
Right so your computer has crashed or you've cheated on your boyfriend or your dogs lost a leg? Whatever it is this will sort you out. What you definitely don't want to be doing is googling crappy magazine advice that will tell you to go for a run, or go to counselling. Don't do that. That will make you feel about a million times worse because you will be out of breath and out of money paying for some big toothed snobby councillor lady. Here's what no one tells you will make you feel better but definitely maybe will.
I have also used only Disney images throughout this blog because it was an accident at first but then I realised we can learn a good few life lessons from old Walt. Plus the pictures are so whimsical they're bound to cheer even the grumpiest grump up.
1. Get Drunk
OK, so this is the obvious one. If you're feeling shit then the get out of jail free card is usually this one because you'll be so blind gone that you don't know your own name let alone the fact that just broke up with your boyfriend. Also if you're getting drunk you're probably going out and if you're going out then you're probably looking pretty damn fine and attracting all kinds of lovely suitors (or ageing toothless married men.) And the next day you will be so ashamed of whatever huge mistake you made whilst you were drunk that you won't care about what you were upset about to begin with.
RISKS AND SIDE EFFECTS: Being drunk can often cause emotions to run wild and you could end up A:mouthing off to whoever your situation may concern, B: feeling worse about your current situation which can lead to running mascara therefore not attracting potential suitors (apart from perhaps the really hard core ones.)
(and I'm sure she felt much better about being banished for the woods for eternity after that)
2. Be Angry
I have found this method really works. Like for example just then when my blog just blew up in my face I could have been totally miserable quit Martha Thursday forever and sulked for days and days. But instead I wanted to show my blog a thing or two so decided to write this cracking little post. If you're sad about something it will play on your mind and make it worse. Where as if you're angry it forces you to do something about it. I have always felt much better after an argument if I have filled someones squash bottle with salt or hacked their facebook account.
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: Don't let your anger turn to violence, no one's going to be getting over anything if you can't have a lie detector test on Jezza K because your relationship's too violent. And equally don't channel your anger into the wrong people. Don't cause further arguments by telling your mum her lasagna sucks because your annoyed with your lecturer.
(See if Simba hadn't been so angry that Scar had killed Mufasa, then he would have never had defeated him. I know we're getting pretty obscure now)
3. Go to Disney Land
This is a totally fail safe way of making yourself feel better. The collection of whimsical characters will either completely lift your spirits or send you into an angry haze by the sickening display of childhood charm in which case you will have achieved the above step to feeling better. Just join with your fellow brethren and sing the gospel 'it's a small world after all' and watch your troubles melt away.
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: A trip to Disney land is not the cheapest way to cheer yourself up, and you could wind up feeling a little more depressed once all the happy mickey hype is over and you've racked up a huge debt. Yes that Indiana Jones Mickey Mouse stuffed toy is simply Divine but he's not going to help pay your electricity bill.
(See, just looking at this makes me feel like I've had a hefty dose of Xanax)
4.Get a Pet
Sometimes it can feel like there is no one there. And you go out of your way to listen to completely ridiculous over the top sad songs that the Verve wrote about real tragedies like their father's death and you apply it to the fact that Tesco ran out of milk, or you handed in your coursework a day late. Soon enough you'll snap out of it because you saw that really sad advert on the telly about the kids in Africa and it will put your silly little problem into perspective. But until then you're gonna want some unconditional love. Now usually experts would say go to your Mother for this but she can be even crueler than the rest of the world when it comes to being honest because she's been there before. So get a dog, a cat, a hamster, a rabbit whatever just something you can cry away to and who won't give a toss about the fact you pawned your Grandma's wig for a can of special brew, just so long as you give em' a baby bell (don't give your rabbit a baby bell.)
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: You have to be super sure you actually want the responsibility of a small animal in your life. I have a friend who bought a bunny because she was hungover, luckily she is a sensible caring girl who took care of her rabbit. But if my brother had done that I'm pretty sure that rabbit would be on that RSPCA urgent appeal ad as we speak.
(See Flounder is always there with identical and sympathetic emotions, maybe I should get a fish next?)
5. Pray for it to Snow
Snow is God's way of saying, 'she sure needs a break.' Snow is the ultimate excuse to do absolutely bugger all. What better way to avoid a deadline or an awkward situation than blaming the unstoppable force of nature. You can sit in and eat canned food (though that's just any day of the week for one of my flat mates) watching New Girl and Gossip Girl or any program that features a girl you fancy a little bit who's gonna make you feel even more sorry for yourself.
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: Does what it says on the tin, you are avoiding the situation. The problem won't melt away with the snow.
(You think that Mickey's smiling because of the snow? uh uh, him and Minnie had a spat last night after she caught him kissing Daisy at Donald's house party. He's just pleased he doesn't have to deal with it today.)
6. Kiss Someone
This works threefold.
1. You kiss someone so lovely that you feel so happy and in love and protected and cared for that all your troubles seem so far away.
2.You kiss someone Just My Luck styley. For those of you who haven't seen the film old Li-Lo is super super lucky and she kisses someone super duper unlucky and they switch luck. (That is literally it so don't bother watching the movie it is as bad as it sounds.) So there you go, kiss a lottery winner and your luck is bound to change.
3. You kiss someone vile, I'm talking absolutely wretched, looks like the Gruffalo's brother. You will feel supremely more attractive after that slippery experience.
RISK AND SIDE AFFECTS: Don't kiss ANYONE you know, lets not open up that can of worms, far more trouble than its worth. Don't kiss anyone in a relationship, you will end up with some unhealthy bruising.
(Look at Belle, she kissed a right minger and look how well things turned out for her.)
7. Blog
And finally we have the ultimate way of feeling better, venting. A problem shared is a problem halved, and if your blogging to the whole online community you've halved your problem precisely 10,000,000 times. I don't think there's a problem any more.
RISKS AND SIDE AFFECTS: Be very careful what you say. I once wrote a blog talking about one person I don't even speak to anymore and about 5 different people I do still speak to thought I was talking about them. People get paranoid so you have been warned.
OK so that was the very late and completely improvised edition of this weeks Martha Thursday. I'm thinking of calling my whole blog Martha Thursday now, rather than fashion nerd, because I don't write about fashion all that often anymore, what do you think? (Not expecting a response you never respond just bulking out the end of the blog really.)
Anyway, I hope this week is a better week for everyone, I know quite a few faces that weren't smiling last week. But February is finally here so stop drip drip dropping those little January showers and put on a sunny grin! (Gosh how lame was that? Wait is it lame to say lame?)
Friday, 27 January 2012
The price of friendship
So for all you regular readers it will come as no surprise to you that 1. I am extremely keen on ALL of my friends (no jealousy please there is far more more than enough of me to go around especially after a recent gorge is Za Za Bazaar, if anything there is is a little too much of me.) And 2. I am extremely poor (probably not as poor as the man who sells Banksy cards outside Bunker in the early hours but still pretty penniless.)
You will also know that I take after my far too over enthusiastic mother in the way that I can literally not say no to anything, I am a yes man. My mother recently perked up with the fact that yes, yet again she was going to have to produce props for our local village play within a week. Did either of us say no? Of course not so rather than spending the last week of my festive period (I am not referring to a christmassy menstrual cycle, sorry that was pretty revolting but the joke was just there ya know?) drinking silly amounts of wine and drunk texting my Bristolians (this auto corrected to Brazilians that would be more interesting) I would in fact be constructing a cauldron out of an olive barrel.
It is on my recent arrival back at uni and a stolen idea from Grazia later that I realise that in fact being a yes man and a good friend does not always mix and gel and it becomes very hard to be both and sometimes even to be either.
According to this rather interesting and particularly useful article we spend on average £11,395 a year on our best friend, this obviously does not apply to me who tends to be a bit stingy and if I had that kind of money would definitely not be spending it on silly companionship (Jagermeister should write me a cheque for the amount of jager bombs I've sold for them.) This is obviously a guestimation for the working woman, which, as we recently discussed will soon be us.
Does this mean that soon enough I will be up to my neck in debt so I can keep a few chums sweet? Or worse off I wont be able to afford my friends any more? I remember those days when you were little when you could literally sit for hours pissing yourself over bear shaped candle having a bit of wax that dripped to look like a willy (not my story a northern friends), and that with a chocolate biscuit would have been enough to keep you happy for about 6 hours. Whereas now we're far too sophisticated to admit that candle wax willies are funny so we require a glass of wine, or a trip to the Boston tea party rather than name yourself Tapanga and pretending that you are climbing a mountain with a snow monkey (one of my favourite child hood games.)
So my point is it all adds up, and don't get me wrong I love the Boston tea party and drinking wine but when you have quite a few friends and you cant see one and then not the other and you want wine with all of them (and lets face it we do) because you can't say no, then before you know it you're spending money like you're Richard Branson and the irony is you are in no position to pay your virgin media bill this month.
Everyone always selfishly chooses to have their birthday either in months of October/November or February, even if their birthday is not during these months they some how move them so they are (erhem certain 21st in London.) And because I am so poor from everyone Else's crippling birthdays I am never conveniently away that month in Cannes and therefore promise to bring back a gift so I tell them I conveniently chose to buy them something like scissors or a pen knife that unfortunately got confiscated on the flight home. So I have to cough up
This was all fine when I was six when everyone was really pleased with like the shietest present like a slinky, or a malfunctioning whoopie cushion, or a pencil case! I mean who on earth ever in their life has sat down and thought to them self, 'you know whats on the top of my list this birthday? a pencil case in the shape of a tiger' no one that's who (though maybe Tracy Beaker she had a pretty deprived child hood so probably fancied herself one.) But people definitely don't want those things anymore and you cant use the excuse 'well my mum picked it out' anymore either. A birthday gift needs to be pretty snazzy and if you're a best friend it needs to mind blowing i.e. Tiffany style.
This is all fine by me because of course the favour will be returned in march for those of us who don't place our birthdays in October, November and February. But when you have quite a few good friends who you really care about then Tiffany's stops becoming your local and you have 0800 OVERDRAFT on speed dial rather than your bestie. This never used to be an issue, I never used to be this popular (there's not a way of me saying that without sounding like the worst person.) Back home home, not uni home but actually home I only have like one friend so she's quite welcome to my money. But in Bristol I have been blessed with many incredible friends so getting gifts can often turn into a game of keeping up with the Joneses.
And so you end with the lifelong conundrum, live a rich but lonely life (I would use Daniel Radcliffe as an example here because honestly he's not cool enough to be any ones friend but he has some how managed a long term relationship?) or be poor but in good company. Well to end on a completely irrelevant note that proves this whole blog wrong, although I have argued that friendship has its costs, it is priceless.
Bet you feel like you're on a MasterCard advert now 'ey?
And before any of you go to try and kill yourself because of your huge debt here is a reason to stick around a little longer. Some amusing cats, these are all from a website called 'fuck yeah pussy gifs', says a lot about my google searches doesn't it?
(This picture does not do Za Za any justice, I literally nearly burst into tears with pure greedy joy)
You will also know that I take after my far too over enthusiastic mother in the way that I can literally not say no to anything, I am a yes man. My mother recently perked up with the fact that yes, yet again she was going to have to produce props for our local village play within a week. Did either of us say no? Of course not so rather than spending the last week of my festive period (I am not referring to a christmassy menstrual cycle, sorry that was pretty revolting but the joke was just there ya know?) drinking silly amounts of wine and drunk texting my Bristolians (this auto corrected to Brazilians that would be more interesting) I would in fact be constructing a cauldron out of an olive barrel.
It is on my recent arrival back at uni and a stolen idea from Grazia later that I realise that in fact being a yes man and a good friend does not always mix and gel and it becomes very hard to be both and sometimes even to be either.
According to this rather interesting and particularly useful article we spend on average £11,395 a year on our best friend, this obviously does not apply to me who tends to be a bit stingy and if I had that kind of money would definitely not be spending it on silly companionship (Jagermeister should write me a cheque for the amount of jager bombs I've sold for them.) This is obviously a guestimation for the working woman, which, as we recently discussed will soon be us.
(The friendship we wish we could afford)
Does this mean that soon enough I will be up to my neck in debt so I can keep a few chums sweet? Or worse off I wont be able to afford my friends any more? I remember those days when you were little when you could literally sit for hours pissing yourself over bear shaped candle having a bit of wax that dripped to look like a willy (not my story a northern friends), and that with a chocolate biscuit would have been enough to keep you happy for about 6 hours. Whereas now we're far too sophisticated to admit that candle wax willies are funny so we require a glass of wine, or a trip to the Boston tea party rather than name yourself Tapanga and pretending that you are climbing a mountain with a snow monkey (one of my favourite child hood games.)
(The lady on the left is staring into her espresso wondering where her next month's rent is going to come from.)
So my point is it all adds up, and don't get me wrong I love the Boston tea party and drinking wine but when you have quite a few friends and you cant see one and then not the other and you want wine with all of them (and lets face it we do) because you can't say no, then before you know it you're spending money like you're Richard Branson and the irony is you are in no position to pay your virgin media bill this month.
Everyone always selfishly chooses to have their birthday either in months of October/November or February, even if their birthday is not during these months they some how move them so they are (erhem certain 21st in London.) And because I am so poor from everyone Else's crippling birthdays I am never conveniently away that month in Cannes and therefore promise to bring back a gift so I tell them I conveniently chose to buy them something like scissors or a pen knife that unfortunately got confiscated on the flight home. So I have to cough up
This was all fine when I was six when everyone was really pleased with like the shietest present like a slinky, or a malfunctioning whoopie cushion, or a pencil case! I mean who on earth ever in their life has sat down and thought to them self, 'you know whats on the top of my list this birthday? a pencil case in the shape of a tiger' no one that's who (though maybe Tracy Beaker she had a pretty deprived child hood so probably fancied herself one.) But people definitely don't want those things anymore and you cant use the excuse 'well my mum picked it out' anymore either. A birthday gift needs to be pretty snazzy and if you're a best friend it needs to mind blowing i.e. Tiffany style.
(We've definitely all had one of these, and look how many there were to choose from! So why was it always the tiger?!)
This is all fine by me because of course the favour will be returned in march for those of us who don't place our birthdays in October, November and February. But when you have quite a few good friends who you really care about then Tiffany's stops becoming your local and you have 0800 OVERDRAFT on speed dial rather than your bestie. This never used to be an issue, I never used to be this popular (there's not a way of me saying that without sounding like the worst person.) Back home home, not uni home but actually home I only have like one friend so she's quite welcome to my money. But in Bristol I have been blessed with many incredible friends so getting gifts can often turn into a game of keeping up with the Joneses.
(This guy has his facebook friends tattooed to his arm, that's one way to keep track)
And so you end with the lifelong conundrum, live a rich but lonely life (I would use Daniel Radcliffe as an example here because honestly he's not cool enough to be any ones friend but he has some how managed a long term relationship?) or be poor but in good company. Well to end on a completely irrelevant note that proves this whole blog wrong, although I have argued that friendship has its costs, it is priceless.
Bet you feel like you're on a MasterCard advert now 'ey?
And before any of you go to try and kill yourself because of your huge debt here is a reason to stick around a little longer. Some amusing cats, these are all from a website called 'fuck yeah pussy gifs', says a lot about my google searches doesn't it?
We're so kooky here at fashion nerd.
Thursday, 19 January 2012
with rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
Going through airport security never used to be an issue for me. I used to scamper through the metal detector without a care in the world because the most metal that was on me was a bit of tin foil that had wrapped some bake good that I binge ate for non stop for the first 14 years of my life leaving me to recompense by eating things like quinoa for dinner.
Anyway going a little off point there. On a recent trip to my local o2 academy for, lets not tiptoe around the issue, a bit of drunken fun. They had installed the super fun feature of a metal detector (so I can't take any scissors out with me anymore, darn.) I hadn't been through a metal detector for a while and this was the most metal detector fun I could afford for a while because heading off to Cannes to meet Mark-Francis and his trusty maid Gianna is a little out of my price range thanks to a certain Estate Agents.
It turned out my scampering days were over it took me a good 10 minutes to get through the metal detector because my jewellery collection no longer consisted of a obligatory pre-teen leather thong necklace with a sickeningly dull shell pendent. 5 rings and several ear cuffs later I was in. This bought to my attention that I have become a jingling jangling jewellery wearing female equivalent of Jack Sparrow.
It is true that over the last few years I have become a lot more magnetic. I never used to wear rings (apart from that one ring I always wear on my right hand that I have worn for so long it has actually merged into my finger leaving a rather embarrassing indent and exposing my chubby fingers, its like my ring has a muffin top.) But my stocking was stacked full of rings last Christmas (take it away George!) So why has jewellery suddenly become such a huge part of my life and am I just downhill from here looking like Jacqueline Wilson at the age of 19.
I recently read Closet Confidential in ELLE, Roberta Benteler said that jewellery was her "armour." Lets do a bit of textual analysis. Does she literally mean armour as in she doesn't bash her knuckles when she throws a few punches, in which case I will be absolutely fine in a fight with my plethora of rings plus I no longer have extensions so I don't have to worry about those getting ripped out. Though I don't get myself involved in an awful lot of fisty cuffs and I can't imagine Miss Benteler does either.
Armour is something that you can't go into battle without. It is true that a good piece of jewellery swung around your neck can completely flatter you (when I say you I mean me) because it sits right on my only boney part of my body, my collar bone. It's also one of those first date larks you're meant to deal with when you're on a first date (those of you who have dates) something like if you stroke your neck and play with your necklace he'll (or she'll PC PC!!!) want to have sex with you.
Armour is there to protect you. And now that I think about it, people who have a really edgy tastes and claim to have pretty dodgy lives that lead them to go off the rails tend to have a fair few piercings and wear clunky chains and junk. So do we wear jewellery as a kinda protection (not like a catholic cross that's a whole different kettle of fish) do we actually toughen ourselves up by poking bits of metal through our ears, and protect ourselves by making ourselves looking frighteningly unapproachable (pretty sure that the reason I've had very little man lucky recently is due to the fact that I wear an ear cuff now and not because I'm a man hating cynical hair extensionless bum.)
I might totally be over analysing and actually my new found love of rings might actually be to do with my total infatuation of Caggie Dunlop, I am completely in love with her and everything she does. I think I'm not the only one though with Urban Outfitters selling out of their two chain rings that she was snapped sporting. I think the reason it works so well on her is because it shows a more free spirited human side to her glamour goddess appearance. A friend once told me that I dress like I'm going to meet the queen, maybe my recent jewellery binge is my attempt to bring me back down to earth and perhaps make me look like I'm meeting a queen but not the queen.
Proof that we don't pay enough attention to our jewellery was when my very stylish friend told me her absolute favourite was £4.50 reduced from £16 or something silly, its so lovely but no one had wanted it because they didn't want the responsibility of having to chose something to put it with.
Amber, everyone's least favourite character from made in Chelsea (that's the third MIC reference now I need therapy), actually said something that I was like 'hmmmm maybe that gals got a point.' She said 'I'm not one of those girls who can just wear a nice dress and wear my St Tropez as my accessory' (or something to that description I hope they don't sue me for damages cause I can't afford that sh*t.) Does this girl have a point? Is the reason piercings are so sharp because they carve out our individuality? Maybe.
Hey all that I know is that cracker jewellery has an advantage when it comes to metal detectors but it will leave you with a nice green line. I definitely am putting any potential suitors off, the amount of rings I'm sporting makes me look like I've been married to some alternative guys a few times over.
I'm feeling like this isn't my best blog funny wise, I'm still in essay mode so apologies, hopefully I'll be back to my hysterical self next week.
God Martha Thursday is bloody arrogant.
Anyway going a little off point there. On a recent trip to my local o2 academy for, lets not tiptoe around the issue, a bit of drunken fun. They had installed the super fun feature of a metal detector (so I can't take any scissors out with me anymore, darn.) I hadn't been through a metal detector for a while and this was the most metal detector fun I could afford for a while because heading off to Cannes to meet Mark-Francis and his trusty maid Gianna is a little out of my price range thanks to a certain Estate Agents.
It turned out my scampering days were over it took me a good 10 minutes to get through the metal detector because my jewellery collection no longer consisted of a obligatory pre-teen leather thong necklace with a sickeningly dull shell pendent. 5 rings and several ear cuffs later I was in. This bought to my attention that I have become a jingling jangling jewellery wearing female equivalent of Jack Sparrow.
(no wonder I had so much trouble getting in to the o2)
It is true that over the last few years I have become a lot more magnetic. I never used to wear rings (apart from that one ring I always wear on my right hand that I have worn for so long it has actually merged into my finger leaving a rather embarrassing indent and exposing my chubby fingers, its like my ring has a muffin top.) But my stocking was stacked full of rings last Christmas (take it away George!) So why has jewellery suddenly become such a huge part of my life and am I just downhill from here looking like Jacqueline Wilson at the age of 19.
(I look a little like this but cheaper)
I recently read Closet Confidential in ELLE, Roberta Benteler said that jewellery was her "armour." Lets do a bit of textual analysis. Does she literally mean armour as in she doesn't bash her knuckles when she throws a few punches, in which case I will be absolutely fine in a fight with my plethora of rings plus I no longer have extensions so I don't have to worry about those getting ripped out. Though I don't get myself involved in an awful lot of fisty cuffs and I can't imagine Miss Benteler does either.
(no doesn't look like a jezza k regular)
Armour is something that you can't go into battle without. It is true that a good piece of jewellery swung around your neck can completely flatter you (when I say you I mean me) because it sits right on my only boney part of my body, my collar bone. It's also one of those first date larks you're meant to deal with when you're on a first date (those of you who have dates) something like if you stroke your neck and play with your necklace he'll (or she'll PC PC!!!) want to have sex with you.
Armour is there to protect you. And now that I think about it, people who have a really edgy tastes and claim to have pretty dodgy lives that lead them to go off the rails tend to have a fair few piercings and wear clunky chains and junk. So do we wear jewellery as a kinda protection (not like a catholic cross that's a whole different kettle of fish) do we actually toughen ourselves up by poking bits of metal through our ears, and protect ourselves by making ourselves looking frighteningly unapproachable (pretty sure that the reason I've had very little man lucky recently is due to the fact that I wear an ear cuff now and not because I'm a man hating cynical hair extensionless bum.)
(she's having a pretty tough times so needs a few piercings to get her through)
I might totally be over analysing and actually my new found love of rings might actually be to do with my total infatuation of Caggie Dunlop, I am completely in love with her and everything she does. I think I'm not the only one though with Urban Outfitters selling out of their two chain rings that she was snapped sporting. I think the reason it works so well on her is because it shows a more free spirited human side to her glamour goddess appearance. A friend once told me that I dress like I'm going to meet the queen, maybe my recent jewellery binge is my attempt to bring me back down to earth and perhaps make me look like I'm meeting a queen but not the queen.
(my kind of queen)
I think all too many of us neglect our necks (and other parts of your body where you wear jewellery but that kind of rhymes.) I think it displays real good taste to wear good jewellery especially not the stuff that's churned out by Tiffany and then by H Samuel and then by new look and then further more by Christmas crackers until there are too many floating heart necklaces in the world. Don't get me wrong they're lovely and all but not from the moment you get it until you die, it's cheating like a get out of jail free card it requires no thought or effort if that's all you wear. Jewellery is the one thing that requires thought in your wardrobe, you cant just look at the doll that the uncreative sales assistant has dressed and wear that.
(Couldn't not have a pic of our Caggs in here)
Amber, everyone's least favourite character from made in Chelsea (that's the third MIC reference now I need therapy), actually said something that I was like 'hmmmm maybe that gals got a point.' She said 'I'm not one of those girls who can just wear a nice dress and wear my St Tropez as my accessory' (or something to that description I hope they don't sue me for damages cause I can't afford that sh*t.) Does this girl have a point? Is the reason piercings are so sharp because they carve out our individuality? Maybe.
(swear she's used a bit of st tropez...)
Hey all that I know is that cracker jewellery has an advantage when it comes to metal detectors but it will leave you with a nice green line. I definitely am putting any potential suitors off, the amount of rings I'm sporting makes me look like I've been married to some alternative guys a few times over.
I'm feeling like this isn't my best blog funny wise, I'm still in essay mode so apologies, hopefully I'll be back to my hysterical self next week.
God Martha Thursday is bloody arrogant.
Friday, 13 January 2012
Peter Pan
Hi there my little bunnies!
Right so my reason for my being late is actually valid this week, I had technical difficulties in the way that my Internet shut itself off. I hope that you have also noticed the other technical change on my blog, my 'blogger navigation bar' has gone, see I'm clever like that. Firstly I would like to thank you for all of your helpful suggestions on my facebook page, or not as the case may be. I have to say, little bit disappointed with the amount of people who have liked the page, I have over 300 friends (facebook not actual friends) and a grand total of 30 have liked. I hate you. I might stop.
But I won't because I want something to stick on my CV and I like hearing your (good fans) praises every week.
Anyway so regular readers will know that last week I promised to write about something fashion related, actually do what it says on the tin for once. An obvious choice would be to completely regurgitate what every magazine has said about s/s12, which I will be quite happy to do once I am editor of ELLE and I will have the exclusive, but I figured that wouldn't be very interesting now.
The other day I realised something. This time next year I will be in my last year of uni. I will have a grand total of 5 months of education left in my life, and after that I will have to step out into the great big wide world and offer up my services as a sulky cynical journalist. When I was little my estimations of when you become a grown up is when you leave uni and get a job. If my estimations remain correct I haven't got too long to go. Does this mean I need to start growing up? And, heaven forbid, my wardrobe does too?
One of the fashion's deadliest sins is 'mutton dressed as lamb', it even says in the fashion bible 'thou shalt not bear false garments for thoust age' (it doesn't say that pretty sure there isn't a fashion bible, do correct me if I'm wrong.) I would like to think I'm not quite mutton yet but as Stevie Nicks would say 'I'm getting older too.'
At news years eve, dressed in star patterned tights, a rainbow star bangle, lightening bolt earrings, a Minnie mouse t-shirt and glittery shoes that Dorothy would envy, I wouldn't have looked out of place stood next to Ant and Dec on SMTV Live as a children's TV presenter. (I was gonna go for a more current children's TV program but I thought it wouldn't wash as well, plus who doesn't love Ant and Dec?)
What does that say about me? Either that I have the sophistication of Hannah Montana (don't get me wrong I love her but that girl is a big hit on the Disney Channel not ELLE and I'm really not hoping to attract the likes of Nick Jonas!) or that maybe the prospect of growing up is scaring me back in to some preadolescence clothing to soften the blow. So when it comes to fashion how do you age gracefully?
I recently had an ELLE binge (i.e. I read it cover to cover.) I rarely have these now because of lack of funds to buy a magazine when I would frankly rather have a rum and coke. It seems I need to binge more often as I was quite in the dark about current trends (pretty slack seeing as I'm meant to be a fashion blogger.) I had been aware of the a/w 11 'mad men' trends, of sweeping skirts past the knee and a 60's finish. But I was unaware that this trend had carried on into present day wear what with Prada's suburban 50's look meaning I don't have to shave above my knee.
As you will have all noticed I'm sure, I am not the best figure head of the knee length skirt. I always try and defend my cheek-y length skirts by blaming it on my height, but who am I kidding probably a little bit slutty (just a little I don't want any smart Alec comments here.) So now that I'm no longer a hormonal teenager trying to get guys to buy an underage girl an apple sour and lemonade perhaps I should adopt a new skirt length and a new style?
I always thought I would, eventually stop flirting with Primark playsuits and go into a more serious relationship with a Reiss trouser suit, but when's the cut off point? When's the defining moment when you say enough is enough put down your rum and coke, slip off your body con belt (and put something else on hopefully) and grow up.
I think for a lot of people that would be when you have kids, but for me the idea of me and a baby makes as much sense as vinegar and milk, we would just curdle. I wanna make myself a fantastic career to feed my rum habits and leave the serious stuff for later. I want to wear stupid short sparkly dresses that are impossible to wash for as long as I possibly can, because one day my button will pop on my jeans and I will have missed that chance.
I've been thinking that yeah the fashion industry is telling us to wear these retro grown up looking clothes, but if you think about it they're doing exactly the same thing that I'm doing, reaching back into the past because they're too scared to grown up and face their future. They're probably exactly where I'm gonna be in ten years, alone, alcoholic, baby-less, career driven maniac who's realising they're a little too old for bunker.
As for knowing when to stop wearing skirts up round your midriff, I think you can pretty much define it whenever you get pregnant or have you first serious job or something like that, unless of course you got that job from sleeping with the boss in which case you should probably keep on wearing that skirt.
And if you're like me and feeling a little bit like your futures creeping up on yer, here's a little bit of advice from a woman who has the job I want;
Whenever I feel unsure or worried I think about that. It will work out in the end. It's like when you order a new outfit and it doesn't look quite how you thought, you learn to live with it anyway.
And I don't hate you I love you, please keep reading my blog so my future does turn out OK.
Last but not least, the blog that I did a guest post for has been nominated for the Marie Claire blog awards. It would be great if you could give it a vote, as both the editor and I would really appreciate it, if your gonna vote for anyone vote for chic and cheerful here- http://www.marieclaire.co.uk/news/fashion/533781/vote-now-best-fashion-blog-and-twitter-feed.html
See you next week bunnies, on Thursday not Friday, Thursday.
Right so my reason for my being late is actually valid this week, I had technical difficulties in the way that my Internet shut itself off. I hope that you have also noticed the other technical change on my blog, my 'blogger navigation bar' has gone, see I'm clever like that. Firstly I would like to thank you for all of your helpful suggestions on my facebook page, or not as the case may be. I have to say, little bit disappointed with the amount of people who have liked the page, I have over 300 friends (facebook not actual friends) and a grand total of 30 have liked. I hate you. I might stop.
But I won't because I want something to stick on my CV and I like hearing your (good fans) praises every week.
Anyway so regular readers will know that last week I promised to write about something fashion related, actually do what it says on the tin for once. An obvious choice would be to completely regurgitate what every magazine has said about s/s12, which I will be quite happy to do once I am editor of ELLE and I will have the exclusive, but I figured that wouldn't be very interesting now.
The other day I realised something. This time next year I will be in my last year of uni. I will have a grand total of 5 months of education left in my life, and after that I will have to step out into the great big wide world and offer up my services as a sulky cynical journalist. When I was little my estimations of when you become a grown up is when you leave uni and get a job. If my estimations remain correct I haven't got too long to go. Does this mean I need to start growing up? And, heaven forbid, my wardrobe does too?
(It's not fair. Peter will get to wear his tunic top and green leggings forever.)
One of the fashion's deadliest sins is 'mutton dressed as lamb', it even says in the fashion bible 'thou shalt not bear false garments for thoust age' (it doesn't say that pretty sure there isn't a fashion bible, do correct me if I'm wrong.) I would like to think I'm not quite mutton yet but as Stevie Nicks would say 'I'm getting older too.'
At news years eve, dressed in star patterned tights, a rainbow star bangle, lightening bolt earrings, a Minnie mouse t-shirt and glittery shoes that Dorothy would envy, I wouldn't have looked out of place stood next to Ant and Dec on SMTV Live as a children's TV presenter. (I was gonna go for a more current children's TV program but I thought it wouldn't wash as well, plus who doesn't love Ant and Dec?)
(not far off my new years eve outfit of choice.)
What does that say about me? Either that I have the sophistication of Hannah Montana (don't get me wrong I love her but that girl is a big hit on the Disney Channel not ELLE and I'm really not hoping to attract the likes of Nick Jonas!) or that maybe the prospect of growing up is scaring me back in to some preadolescence clothing to soften the blow. So when it comes to fashion how do you age gracefully?
(maybe someone should tell Hannah that she can't actually be Hannah Montana forever because one day her grey hairs will peak out from under her wig and she'll have to pick the kids up from school.)
I recently had an ELLE binge (i.e. I read it cover to cover.) I rarely have these now because of lack of funds to buy a magazine when I would frankly rather have a rum and coke. It seems I need to binge more often as I was quite in the dark about current trends (pretty slack seeing as I'm meant to be a fashion blogger.) I had been aware of the a/w 11 'mad men' trends, of sweeping skirts past the knee and a 60's finish. But I was unaware that this trend had carried on into present day wear what with Prada's suburban 50's look meaning I don't have to shave above my knee.
(I now understand how these ladies can afford Prada, they save so much money by not having to buy Venus razors!)
As you will have all noticed I'm sure, I am not the best figure head of the knee length skirt. I always try and defend my cheek-y length skirts by blaming it on my height, but who am I kidding probably a little bit slutty (just a little I don't want any smart Alec comments here.) So now that I'm no longer a hormonal teenager trying to get guys to buy an underage girl an apple sour and lemonade perhaps I should adopt a new skirt length and a new style?
I always thought I would, eventually stop flirting with Primark playsuits and go into a more serious relationship with a Reiss trouser suit, but when's the cut off point? When's the defining moment when you say enough is enough put down your rum and coke, slip off your body con belt (and put something else on hopefully) and grow up.
I think for a lot of people that would be when you have kids, but for me the idea of me and a baby makes as much sense as vinegar and milk, we would just curdle. I wanna make myself a fantastic career to feed my rum habits and leave the serious stuff for later. I want to wear stupid short sparkly dresses that are impossible to wash for as long as I possibly can, because one day my button will pop on my jeans and I will have missed that chance.
(frankly I'd rather have another pair of shoes.)
I've been thinking that yeah the fashion industry is telling us to wear these retro grown up looking clothes, but if you think about it they're doing exactly the same thing that I'm doing, reaching back into the past because they're too scared to grown up and face their future. They're probably exactly where I'm gonna be in ten years, alone, alcoholic, baby-less, career driven maniac who's realising they're a little too old for bunker.
As for knowing when to stop wearing skirts up round your midriff, I think you can pretty much define it whenever you get pregnant or have you first serious job or something like that, unless of course you got that job from sleeping with the boss in which case you should probably keep on wearing that skirt.
(well it worked for Bridge)
And if you're like me and feeling a little bit like your futures creeping up on yer, here's a little bit of advice from a woman who has the job I want;
"I was a giddy creature who survived on thin air and no sleep. Being a well dressed woman on the edge suited me. Now I'm a vitamin popping, organic-eating soon-to-be momma, happy as can be with the world's most patient man. I'm living proof that things work out in the end. I've kissed a lot of Muppets to find my man and made many mistakes...My advice? Don't date rock stars, married or gay men (if he's all three, run away. Fast.)... Pay a visit to net-a-porter, you'll worry more about the credit card bill arriving than the fact he left you for someone younger. The 'drinking-until-you-fall-over' method is a good method of getting over boys-as a one-off...Take it from me it will all work out in the end. Never dye your hair to match your pet. Be true to your individual style and don't let money get in the way of a good outfit or the truth in the way of a good story."
- ELLE's columnist, Mademoiselle, she sucks yeah? No she doesn't. I wish she did.
Whenever I feel unsure or worried I think about that. It will work out in the end. It's like when you order a new outfit and it doesn't look quite how you thought, you learn to live with it anyway.
And I don't hate you I love you, please keep reading my blog so my future does turn out OK.
Last but not least, the blog that I did a guest post for has been nominated for the Marie Claire blog awards. It would be great if you could give it a vote, as both the editor and I would really appreciate it, if your gonna vote for anyone vote for chic and cheerful here- http://www.marieclaire.co.uk/news/fashion/533781/vote-now-best-fashion-blog-and-twitter-feed.html
See you next week bunnies, on Thursday not Friday, Thursday.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)