ATTENTION

Pennys now do clogs. I think I'm over them now (was I ever under??). Not being a snob but now it means that every single girl out there is going to have a pair that are going to fly off their feet in the middle of a club during a rousing dance version of "Come On Eileen" or something and thwack me square in the face. Don't think I would be able to handle that very well to be honest, so for me, clogs are ooooooootta thurr.

Living In Wonderland xo

Ugggggggggggggggh

Ok, I am absolutely LOVING the fashion at the minute, as I have always dressed with a bit of a grunge element to my clothes so it is now easy as sin to get clothes that I like, but what I cannot understand is the fact that velvet is everywhere. I hate it. Hate hate hate hate. I think it can look nice on people sometimes and I'm quite ok for it to be on dresses or whatever, but now I am terrified of being out in public in case I rub up against someone who has velvet on them somewhere. The feel of that stuff rubbed up backwards is ridiculously disgusting. I'm shuddering to the thought. Not cool people.
Hopefully velvet will be in and out of fashion soon. But I have a feeling it won't be. Damn.

Uggggghhhhhhhh.

Living In Wonderland xo

WHAT WAS I THINKING??

I am a stupid stupid girl. I have no idea what is wrong with me. For some reason late last night after I got home from the gym, I figured I would have a bit of a pampering session, as I have been stressed lately. I put on the New Moon OST (I recommend you buy it - Bon Iver, Thom Yorke, Grizzly Bear, what's not to like?), threw on the heating so I could have a piping hot shower (the only way to do it in my opinion), and set about having good ole ME time. I veeted, showered, scrubbed, cleaned, buffed, filed nails, moisturized, painted my nails, let my hair dry out naturally (which now in effect looks somewhat like I stuck a wet finger in a plug socket).
I felt better about myself, but I was still slightly restless. This wasn't what I was used to doing, like there was something else that needed to be done. I scrambled through my drawer and fished out my fake tan. I decided "oh what the heck" and started to out it on. Now I wish I never did it. Stupid, stupid me. You see, I haven't touched a bottle of fake tan in over 3 months because I looked like one of THOSE girls after a few experiences (you all know what I'm on about, I shudder to even think it so I'm not going to mention it). But anyways I decided to forgoe the fake tan to see how I felt. I felt a heck of a lot better. I didn't have those night-before-the-night-out panics any more about whether or not I had used enough fake tan on my legs or if it was patchy anywhere. My skin cleared up and I felt confident going out with bare legs without tan on. THEN I found out that pale skin was coming back into fashion along with the whole grunge look. Delighted didn't describe my feelings. I wouldn't be on my own in this pasty business. But now back to my horror story from last night.
I woke up this morning smelling of a giant digestive biscuit, then when I looked in the mirror I recoiled at the tantastic vision that was me. I had completely forgotten what it was like to wear fake tan - disgusting. WHY OH WHY DID I CAVE??? I have subsequently binned all my bottles of fake tan, utterly vexed at my own weak-mindedness, and have now vouched to lay off the fakers. And I mean it this time. Now I have to wait until this baked bean colouring wears off my skin. Thank God I don't have anything planned for this week.

Pale is pretty people!

Living in Wonderland xo