We all just watched another episode of Prison Break and aww it was lovely. We've all got totally obsessed since Sarah's dad got us a tv (it was a happy day in flat 11.5 I have to say). The guys are really bored by our loud lustings over Wentworth Miller.
We set a time to start and are always half an hour later than our allocated time. We all declare that we should be working, before curling up and getting hot milk and tea and duvets and sometimes even popcorn and turning off the lights. I sit there and feel lucky and content, although I do also feel very stressed. Prison Break is so stressful! We're only three episodes in and already so much has gone wrong.
Note to self: Must stop getting so emotionally involved in tv programmes. You do not want to know what me and Claudia were like about Downton. Lets just say there were tears...
Wednesday 21 November 2012
Me being a showy off geek.
I got my English essay back!! I managed to pick up the wrong one first of all so had to go through the stress of it all twice plus thinking that I would have done way worse than my first wrong mark. Silly meeee.
Anyway, I got 59%
(Which was higher than my first mark - which wasn't my mark. Just sayiiin')
I'm pretty pleased with that for my first essay but reading the comments is excruciating. They certainly don't hold back now. I'm dreading the personal meeting with my tutor its going to be so awkward and icky.
Anyway, I got 59%
(Which was higher than my first mark - which wasn't my mark. Just sayiiin')
I'm pretty pleased with that for my first essay but reading the comments is excruciating. They certainly don't hold back now. I'm dreading the personal meeting with my tutor its going to be so awkward and icky.
Sunday 18 November 2012
Catch up 2: Saying Yes to Life in Bristol
And after I turned 19, I went to uni.
THAT SHIT CRAY.
I'm basically going to cheat massively and say that it's amazing. I can't possibly catch up on all the crazy oxymoron emotions and the fabulousness of freshers week and the beauty of Bristol when you first explore it in the sun, with the orange leaves falling on College Green in front of the Cathedral, and the way it feels like I'm in Hogwarts when I go to my philosophy tutorial, and the lucky star I was born under to give me such great flatmates - in particular a girl who I clicked with on the first day and was peeing with on the second (well there's nothing like a bit of alcohol to seriously bash down some social boundaries) - and gosh all the attractive boys.
I live right in the centre of Bristol on the top floor (the lifts are off. I walk up five flights of stairs. I just tell myself how fit I must be getting) so the views are stunning and we can walk everywhere, which is great when we go out and even better when I wake up twenty minutes before I need to be in a lecture the morning after.
There's ten of us in a Flat 11, and we've merged with the flat opposite us to form one super Flat 11.5. We're also really good friends with Flat 8 and 9 (Flat 10 are missing out) but I'm on friendly acquaintance terms with pretty much everyone (especially as the constant fire alarms due to burnt toast which involve us all standing about in pyjamas - regardless of the time of day - are great bonding exercises) and so I have a really super accommodation set up.
The work is hard but I'm trying not to get toooo anxious about it (so in normal person terms I'm at about the anxiety level of a turkey in November) but I've handed in two essays and although I know they were a pile of actual poo, I did it, and I did it without going actually mental, which is always good.
I know I sound absurd and cringey and I am quite tired but I just feel really lucky. We all get on so well despite being randomly thrown together and being really quite different and having totally opposite music tastes and having entirely clashing styles and liking completely different sports and tv programmes and films. We buy family milk and make everyone tea and have had two Flat 11 Sunday Roasts and we leave funny notes for each other and share clothes and wash up together whilst singing to the radio and study in the sitting room together and chill in each others rooms and wave to each others grandparents on Skype and sing happy birthday to my sister down the phone and go on cold Sunday Afternoon walks and put cling film on each others stuff because we think its funny.
And again, I know I sound absurd and cringey but I feel different. I feel more adult and confident and more relaxed about things - myself, mainly. So yeah... I just feel pretty good. Obvs some days I'm hit by my chronic indecision and anxiety and I nearly cry because I can't decide what I want to eat for breakfast and I hate having to shop for myself and hovering is soooo much more effort than I knew and washing my clothes is so time consuming and sometimes work is quite hard, or long, or stress inducing, and sometimes I'm like errrgh 'all I want is a bath and some of mama Williams cooking and a snuggle with Muffin' (my beauts Border Terrier) but most days, I feel excited and happy and looked after by everyone and calm. I feel like I'm saying yes to life, and that its saying yes back.
THAT SHIT CRAY.
I'm basically going to cheat massively and say that it's amazing. I can't possibly catch up on all the crazy oxymoron emotions and the fabulousness of freshers week and the beauty of Bristol when you first explore it in the sun, with the orange leaves falling on College Green in front of the Cathedral, and the way it feels like I'm in Hogwarts when I go to my philosophy tutorial, and the lucky star I was born under to give me such great flatmates - in particular a girl who I clicked with on the first day and was peeing with on the second (well there's nothing like a bit of alcohol to seriously bash down some social boundaries) - and gosh all the attractive boys.
I live right in the centre of Bristol on the top floor (the lifts are off. I walk up five flights of stairs. I just tell myself how fit I must be getting) so the views are stunning and we can walk everywhere, which is great when we go out and even better when I wake up twenty minutes before I need to be in a lecture the morning after.
There's ten of us in a Flat 11, and we've merged with the flat opposite us to form one super Flat 11.5. We're also really good friends with Flat 8 and 9 (Flat 10 are missing out) but I'm on friendly acquaintance terms with pretty much everyone (especially as the constant fire alarms due to burnt toast which involve us all standing about in pyjamas - regardless of the time of day - are great bonding exercises) and so I have a really super accommodation set up.
The work is hard but I'm trying not to get toooo anxious about it (so in normal person terms I'm at about the anxiety level of a turkey in November) but I've handed in two essays and although I know they were a pile of actual poo, I did it, and I did it without going actually mental, which is always good.
I know I sound absurd and cringey and I am quite tired but I just feel really lucky. We all get on so well despite being randomly thrown together and being really quite different and having totally opposite music tastes and having entirely clashing styles and liking completely different sports and tv programmes and films. We buy family milk and make everyone tea and have had two Flat 11 Sunday Roasts and we leave funny notes for each other and share clothes and wash up together whilst singing to the radio and study in the sitting room together and chill in each others rooms and wave to each others grandparents on Skype and sing happy birthday to my sister down the phone and go on cold Sunday Afternoon walks and put cling film on each others stuff because we think its funny.
And again, I know I sound absurd and cringey but I feel different. I feel more adult and confident and more relaxed about things - myself, mainly. So yeah... I just feel pretty good. Obvs some days I'm hit by my chronic indecision and anxiety and I nearly cry because I can't decide what I want to eat for breakfast and I hate having to shop for myself and hovering is soooo much more effort than I knew and washing my clothes is so time consuming and sometimes work is quite hard, or long, or stress inducing, and sometimes I'm like errrgh 'all I want is a bath and some of mama Williams cooking and a snuggle with Muffin' (my beauts Border Terrier) but most days, I feel excited and happy and looked after by everyone and calm. I feel like I'm saying yes to life, and that its saying yes back.
Thursday 15 November 2012
Fabric Tree
Southbank is a cool place. I love the juxtaposition of The
Thames and the skaters under graffitied concrete; the brutalist architecture of
the National Theatre and St Pauls Cathedral’s dreamy dome.
Southbank is so cool that it has a giant fabric tree:
Obviously.
I think it was something to do with the Hayward Gallery (which was, after all, responsible for trees all along the river wrapped inYayoi Kusama's spots, far before she became Louis Vuitton's inspiration) but I can't be entirely sure.
Wednesday 14 November 2012
Mother Punk.
My sister, my mum and I always try to go to the Hayward Gallery, on the
Southbank, once during the summer. I’m not really sure why we go in the summer
rather than at any time of year – it does, unsurprisingly, exist all year round
– but it’s a sort of tradition, I imagine derived from one summer holiday
activity years ago, and the Williams family does love a good tradition, so we
do. It’s a really cool art gallery and I would totally recommend going; all the
best exhibitions I have ever seen have been here and it’s always very inspiring
and thought provoking.
We never check what’s on; we always just jump on the tube, skip across The Millennium Bridge, waltz up and take a look. Past exhibitions have looked at dreams, home and the moon. There’s normally something free, and we all know that’s always a bonus.
But this year, when September greeted us shockingly early, we hadn’t completed our tradition. The Hayward gallery remained unvisited. Well we couldn’t have that!!
As soon as we realised that the summer had whizzed by on trains across Europe and open top buses in New York and runs on English beaches and jet skis in Portugal, we dashed to the Hayward Gallery. The exhibition was on punk, which was really pretty cool.
My mum used to be a bit of a punk, back in the day, so she was thrilled. It was a bit of a trip down memory lane for her, and I really loved it.
When we’d finished looking at every old poster and self-produced newspaper and record, it was nearly six o’clock. Cocktail hour! We headed off to gorgeous Mexican bar and restaurant Las Iguanas. The bartender mixed our drinks to perfection. They were seriouslyyy good. We watched the bar fill up from our seat by the window, and watched the buzz of Southbank go by, and watched The Thames dance past.
We never check what’s on; we always just jump on the tube, skip across The Millennium Bridge, waltz up and take a look. Past exhibitions have looked at dreams, home and the moon. There’s normally something free, and we all know that’s always a bonus.
But this year, when September greeted us shockingly early, we hadn’t completed our tradition. The Hayward gallery remained unvisited. Well we couldn’t have that!!
As soon as we realised that the summer had whizzed by on trains across Europe and open top buses in New York and runs on English beaches and jet skis in Portugal, we dashed to the Hayward Gallery. The exhibition was on punk, which was really pretty cool.
My mum used to be a bit of a punk, back in the day, so she was thrilled. It was a bit of a trip down memory lane for her, and I really loved it.
People were so much cooler then, so much more enthusiastic, so much more ready to give it a go and fuck being ‘cool’. And because of that they were really very cool.
Side note: I felt I fitted in, in my crop jumper with leather collar, red lips, and leather jacket. Maybe a bit of a fraud, especially when standing next to some of the old punks, who had long greying hair and earrings, but still working it, I liked to think. The guys nudging fifty were still cooler than me though. I’m working on it.
When we’d finished looking at every old poster and self-produced newspaper and record, it was nearly six o’clock. Cocktail hour! We headed off to gorgeous Mexican bar and restaurant Las Iguanas. The bartender mixed our drinks to perfection. They were seriouslyyy good. We watched the bar fill up from our seat by the window, and watched the buzz of Southbank go by, and watched The Thames dance past.
The Best Procrastination.
BUT OMG LOOK AT HIM.
I want to go to Milan and meet an Italian on a bike that looks like him and who brings me flowers in the rain and who casually asks to marry me in a cafe in a square with a fountain.
Birthday Boots
Autumn is the season of new coats, boots and beginnings.
My mum taught me that and I have always strongly believed it. So when I saw these beauties I went into meltdown.
I dreamt about them (genuinely). Every outfit I wore was incomplete because I didn't have red studded boots upon my feet.
My yearning for these were made worse because of my current obsession with red (remember this? Yeah Valentino's fault.) and all things fierce. Which these certainly are.
Carefully folding the wrapping off the Zara Boot Box (I don't like ripping wrapping paper, ok?!) on my Birthday Breakfast, was a BIG MOMENT. I was so excited that, no word of a lie, I nearly choked.
Once opened and after the usual birthday jig and kisses and hugs and some squeals, I put them on my feet and did not take them off again. For ooh, about a week.
They make me feel fantastic. Wherever I go in them, I strut to my own personal stereo that plays 'These Boots Were Made For Walking' in my head. And that's a pretty top feeling.
(Thank you mum and dad)
My mum taught me that and I have always strongly believed it. So when I saw these beauties I went into meltdown.
I dreamt about them (genuinely). Every outfit I wore was incomplete because I didn't have red studded boots upon my feet.
My yearning for these were made worse because of my current obsession with red (remember this? Yeah Valentino's fault.) and all things fierce. Which these certainly are.
Carefully folding the wrapping off the Zara Boot Box (I don't like ripping wrapping paper, ok?!) on my Birthday Breakfast, was a BIG MOMENT. I was so excited that, no word of a lie, I nearly choked.
Once opened and after the usual birthday jig and kisses and hugs and some squeals, I put them on my feet and did not take them off again. For ooh, about a week.
They make me feel fantastic. Wherever I go in them, I strut to my own personal stereo that plays 'These Boots Were Made For Walking' in my head. And that's a pretty top feeling.
Because nancy is still better than Jessica. Just sayin'
(Thank you mum and dad)
Tuesday 13 November 2012
19.
So, first things first, I turned 19!!!
If I'm honest (and I do always try to be) I wasn't really looking forward to my 19th Birthday.
Before you throw rotten veg at me for being such a miserable old fart, which would definitely be a reasonable reaction (not looking forward to birthdays is dull and should be criminal) and judge me horribly (because I am normally silly excited about my birthday - and actually, pretty much everyone else’s too - to the point that I'm actually annoying to others around me), I'll tell you why.
1. It felt way too old. I know, I know I'm hardly applying for a bus pass yet (although I am knitting – more on that later), but my final year as a teenager seems like quite a big, and not particularly jolly, deal. It definitely implies adulthood and responsibilities and own washing and no more glitter and animal socks.
2. All my friends were away!! My birthday was on September
28th (I am A W A R E how behind I am) and bloody Bristol didn’t
start until the next day but all other unis had started nearly two weeks before
hand (it was a miserable two weeks) so very few people were about. It was all v
emotional I have to say.
3. I was going to uni the
next day so was majorly stressing out about this massive rite of passage
life changing event that was taking place the next day. So was a bit of a state
really. You know me and my anxiety. My poor mother. Also, going to Bristol the
next day meant that I didn’t reallyyy want to be horribly hungover (not the
best way to meet the folk you’ll be living with for the next year) so has
absolutely no idea what to do in order to celebrate my birthday. Stay in? Go
for dinner? Clubbing? Drinks? Cocktails? You also know me and my chronicle
indecision.
But, in the end, it was fab!!
I decided to have a small select few over for classy
celebrations and we had a really lovely time/goodbye.
Polly (of previous post. That one) came down all the way
from Manchester which made me very happy and was really very kind of her.
AND THEN, guess who Polly bought with her when she waltzed
through the door just as we were cracking open the champagne?? Only Rain bloody
Osgood!!! All the way from Brighton. For me. As a surprise. What a total babe.
I loved that everyone else knew and I had absolutely no idea. I’m such a goon (or just very easily influenced by champagne. Probably both.)
It was a really, really lovely evening. Spending it with
people that I love the most (apart from three of my girls who were respectively
in Leeds, Norwich and Birmingham) in a small, intimate way was so perfect. It was also a
very lovely (and really quite heart breaking way)to say goodbye.
An Apology Gorge
I haven't blogged for yonks. I'm sorry. BUT that's because I've been super busy. I'll fill you in now. In the meantime, gorge your eyes on this: http://elliemaybakes.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/armed-with-cake-and-wine-she-left-me.html.
It's so yummy you might die.
Another thing that should be gorged upon by your eyes is this:
http://www.dolcegabbana.com/dg/books/david-gandy/
Also so yummy you might die. Replay as many times as necessary. Do not be ashamed.
Catch up coming!
xxx
It's so yummy you might die.
Another thing that should be gorged upon by your eyes is this:
http://www.dolcegabbana.com/dg/books/david-gandy/
Also so yummy you might die. Replay as many times as necessary. Do not be ashamed.
Catch up coming!
xxx
Monday 24 September 2012
Stalker Misses Best Friend
So Polly (my best best friend ever) deserted me for Manchester Uni last week. It was traumatic. I won't discuss it further than that.
I went up to visit her for Friday and Saturday night and had a f a n t a s t i c time. It really made me look forward to heading off to Bristol, but it also made me miss her even more when I got home.
We cause the best kind of chaos when we're together. We should never be seperated.
Gosh.
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| Our last evening, before Polly left for Manchester and we were seperated... |
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| Mems |
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|
I'm having a bit of an emotiional moment here, bear with me...
Declaration of Love
So I'm finally off to Bristol on Saturday. All my friends went off to uni a week ago and I miss them so I'm superduper excited - although a little nervous - and I think that before I go I should do something crazy. Like, something totally mental. I've died the under bit of my hair at the back a really dark brown so that when I tie it up you can see a flash of dark, and it also peeks through when it's down.
However, although this does look, if I say so myself, v cool, and quite 90s grunge with my died blonde hair, it's hardly an act of insane rebellion before I leave for my new student life. So I want to declare my love for someone, too, because it's an insane thing to do and I think will feel liberating or something, and then I'll never see them again. So it won't be embarassing or awful. Is this making sense?
The only problem is that there isn't actually anyone who I have an undying passionate love for who doesn't know. That does rather make it sound like I go about telling people that I have an undying passionate love for them on a regular basis. I don't. I do fall in love randomly with people I see on the bus or the tube or walking down the street or serving me in shops quite a lot, but I rarely declare my love for them (actually, make that never) and I'm actually quite reserved and fussy when it comes to guys incase they're not the The Love of My Life and he's actually standing behind them. (I KNOW. Everyone tells me I'm absurd). My very specific 'type' - consisting predominantly of being Italian - also makes all this undying love malarky a bit tricky.
BUT, when I was on the bus today heading off to Primark to buy 16 mens t-shirts - I got carried away - I saw Allessandro (probably his name) who used to work in my local cafe Nero, where I go a lot, and who is a) Italian and B) VERY ATTRACTIVE and I'd forgotten quite how beautiful he is and quite how much I want to marry him. If I've ever had an unspoken, passionate and undying love for anyone, it's for him. My best friend attempted to make a video of him singing Happy Birthday to me as an 18th birthday present because she knew it would make me lityerally hysterical. That's how much I love him. (He wasn't at work the day she went in with her camera, sadly.)
So, I need to declare my undying and passionate love for him. And the run away. Very fast.
If I see him, I'll do it. Errm...
However, although this does look, if I say so myself, v cool, and quite 90s grunge with my died blonde hair, it's hardly an act of insane rebellion before I leave for my new student life. So I want to declare my love for someone, too, because it's an insane thing to do and I think will feel liberating or something, and then I'll never see them again. So it won't be embarassing or awful. Is this making sense?
The only problem is that there isn't actually anyone who I have an undying passionate love for who doesn't know. That does rather make it sound like I go about telling people that I have an undying passionate love for them on a regular basis. I don't. I do fall in love randomly with people I see on the bus or the tube or walking down the street or serving me in shops quite a lot, but I rarely declare my love for them (actually, make that never) and I'm actually quite reserved and fussy when it comes to guys incase they're not the The Love of My Life and he's actually standing behind them. (I KNOW. Everyone tells me I'm absurd). My very specific 'type' - consisting predominantly of being Italian - also makes all this undying love malarky a bit tricky.
BUT, when I was on the bus today heading off to Primark to buy 16 mens t-shirts - I got carried away - I saw Allessandro (probably his name) who used to work in my local cafe Nero, where I go a lot, and who is a) Italian and B) VERY ATTRACTIVE and I'd forgotten quite how beautiful he is and quite how much I want to marry him. If I've ever had an unspoken, passionate and undying love for anyone, it's for him. My best friend attempted to make a video of him singing Happy Birthday to me as an 18th birthday present because she knew it would make me lityerally hysterical. That's how much I love him. (He wasn't at work the day she went in with her camera, sadly.)
So, I need to declare my undying and passionate love for him. And the run away. Very fast.
If I see him, I'll do it. Errm...
London Fashion Week
So it was London Fashion Week last week, and obvs being the uber fashionista that I am (ahem. Yes.), I managed to obtain an invite to an event that Glam Media were hosting, sponsored by Rimmel. Normally I'm just very much aware that LFW is going on, and think dreamily about the various fashion wonders that are being paraded down the catwalk as I rifle through Charity shops and Hammersmith Vintage Clothes Fair in a vain attempt to recreate them. But not this year!!
Ok, so maybe one morning spent in a very luxurious room in One Aldwych Hotel having my nails done doesn't actually count as having arrived at London Fashion Week, but it's definitely a start.
The event was run specifically for bloggers and so I met loads, who were allmuch cooler than me and knew far more about, well, everything. One, who worked at Dutch Elle, told me that she started as a two month internship, then moved onto six months, and at the end of that was offered a job. You know me, I love a good internship, especially at a glamorous magazine, and I was totally inspired. I'm going to email Lisa and get a reference from her, and some advice on how to apply for a second internship next summer.
Key Trend Spotted: Over-sized 'costume' jewellery with neon. Get on that y'all.
The only colour I ever have on my nails is red, so I went for err, a lovely red, but thought I'd go a bit crazy and have red sparkles over it. This summer, whilst partying in Portugal, I got really very into body glitter. I loved the way it caught the light and made me look like a vampire (because of the way I sparkled in the sun obviously) but when I got back home I thought that couldn't really continue, so this was my last attempt to hold onto the summer. I chose 'Precious Stones' for my top coat and, although it is maybe a little bit Christmassy, it looks fab.
We also went for breakfast at the very classy Delaunay were I had a delicious fruit salad - and the pastries looked a m a z i n g - and a very British pot of tea (with strainer woo). Most exciting, we bought four marshmallows from their shop (don't even ask how much they cost) and they were so yummy it was actually mind blowing. I don't normally like marshmallows because they make me feel like I'm drowning, but even I loved them. Especially the Green Apple flavour. It was so green.
Popping into the Chanel pop up store in Covent Garden probably wasn't the best idea. I totally adore the new purple lipstick. As my friend pointed out, I could become known in Bristol as the girl with the purple lipstick. I like that idea.
It was also not the best idea to pop into the Kurt Geiger store, where 'Everything But The Dress' is in full swing. I literally FELL IN LOVE. How could I not fall in love with Manohlo-esque purple velvet shoes with a gold heel?? The price tag on the new Min is less beautiful so if anyone wants to fund this poor students need for gorgeous footwear, here's where you can find them.
In fact, if someone could just fund this poor student’s need for beautiful purple things, I'd be grateful.
Least glam moment: The Moomin shop, in Covent Garden (which is actually owned by the Finnish Government. When you ring its Foreign Office there's a line for the Moomin shop. True fact). We met actual Moomin. It was an exciting moment for us all.
I sometimes write for online magazine Whatever After - check out my feature on London Fashion Week Nails and my Top Ten Tips for beautiful nails. (Well, only if you want to. You totally don't have to.)
Ok, so maybe one morning spent in a very luxurious room in One Aldwych Hotel having my nails done doesn't actually count as having arrived at London Fashion Week, but it's definitely a start.
The event was run specifically for bloggers and so I met loads, who were allmuch cooler than me and knew far more about, well, everything. One, who worked at Dutch Elle, told me that she started as a two month internship, then moved onto six months, and at the end of that was offered a job. You know me, I love a good internship, especially at a glamorous magazine, and I was totally inspired. I'm going to email Lisa and get a reference from her, and some advice on how to apply for a second internship next summer.
Key Trend Spotted: Over-sized 'costume' jewellery with neon. Get on that y'all.
The only colour I ever have on my nails is red, so I went for err, a lovely red, but thought I'd go a bit crazy and have red sparkles over it. This summer, whilst partying in Portugal, I got really very into body glitter. I loved the way it caught the light and made me look like a vampire (because of the way I sparkled in the sun obviously) but when I got back home I thought that couldn't really continue, so this was my last attempt to hold onto the summer. I chose 'Precious Stones' for my top coat and, although it is maybe a little bit Christmassy, it looks fab.
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| A definite look for all my upcoming Bristol Freshers parties at any rate. |
We took liberal advantage of their goodie bags (yesss we all took two. Love, I have a 17 year old sister. I couldn't well go home without one for her could I!?) which were so full of make up, and nail varnish and lipstick that I kept peering into my laden bag with disbelief. My fave gift is the Kate Moss lipstick in shade 107, which is a dark vampy red and my chosen colour for this autumn. It looks particularly hot when worn with a turned up collar on my new grey boyfriend style tweed coat or trusty leather jacket, sunglasses and studded boots - and also with '20s flapper style dresses (of which I own several) for a glam grunge look. I've been wearing Maxfactor Lipstain in shade 06 for a while, but there's nothing like lipstick. I do love a good lipstick, I really do.
With our goodie bags!! We felt like we were on the red carpet
We also went for breakfast at the very classy Delaunay were I had a delicious fruit salad - and the pastries looked a m a z i n g - and a very British pot of tea (with strainer woo). Most exciting, we bought four marshmallows from their shop (don't even ask how much they cost) and they were so yummy it was actually mind blowing. I don't normally like marshmallows because they make me feel like I'm drowning, but even I loved them. Especially the Green Apple flavour. It was so green.
Popping into the Chanel pop up store in Covent Garden probably wasn't the best idea. I totally adore the new purple lipstick. As my friend pointed out, I could become known in Bristol as the girl with the purple lipstick. I like that idea.
It was also not the best idea to pop into the Kurt Geiger store, where 'Everything But The Dress' is in full swing. I literally FELL IN LOVE. How could I not fall in love with Manohlo-esque purple velvet shoes with a gold heel?? The price tag on the new Min is less beautiful so if anyone wants to fund this poor students need for gorgeous footwear, here's where you can find them.
In fact, if someone could just fund this poor student’s need for beautiful purple things, I'd be grateful.
Least glam moment: The Moomin shop, in Covent Garden (which is actually owned by the Finnish Government. When you ring its Foreign Office there's a line for the Moomin shop. True fact). We met actual Moomin. It was an exciting moment for us all.
I sometimes write for online magazine Whatever After - check out my feature on London Fashion Week Nails and my Top Ten Tips for beautiful nails. (Well, only if you want to. You totally don't have to.)
Monday 17 September 2012
Lunch in Greenwich
Greenwich Village is beautiful.
We'd spotted a lovely little restaurant as we drove through Greenwich Village on our open top bus tour the day before, and so we returned after our Boat Tour. all this city sightseeing is hard work you know! You have to keep your strength up.
It was a lovely little local place, with delicious food next, door to a beautiful florist, whose flowers encroached on the restaurant so that it had a gorgeous outdoor seating area, as well as really beautiful gardens. I so wish I could live in NY and know everywhere. Each place I went past I wanted to visit, especially in Greenwich Village, where all the cafes are adorable and little and look like exciting things could happen in them and may well be the favourite place for the Love of My Life to go for coffee.
Added Bonus: The restaurant did gluten free pizza!! I was tres excited, especially as mine tasted exactly the same as my dads gluten containing pizza. New York is great like that.
We'd spotted a lovely little restaurant as we drove through Greenwich Village on our open top bus tour the day before, and so we returned after our Boat Tour. all this city sightseeing is hard work you know! You have to keep your strength up.
It was a lovely little local place, with delicious food next, door to a beautiful florist, whose flowers encroached on the restaurant so that it had a gorgeous outdoor seating area, as well as really beautiful gardens. I so wish I could live in NY and know everywhere. Each place I went past I wanted to visit, especially in Greenwich Village, where all the cafes are adorable and little and look like exciting things could happen in them and may well be the favourite place for the Love of My Life to go for coffee.
Added Bonus: The restaurant did gluten free pizza!! I was tres excited, especially as mine tasted exactly the same as my dads gluten containing pizza. New York is great like that.
After a very lovely, relaxed lunch, we wondered through Greenwich Village. I love that area. I want to live there, or in Chelsea when I live in New York. Yes, well, a girl can dream.
We also spent quite some time at the impromptu Mulry Square memorial to 9/11, which started spontaneously from children's art dedicated to the memory of the victims. It has since grown and gained a protected status, becoming known as Tiles For America. It sits on the corner of 7th Avenue and West 11th Street and is really beautiful. It's very understated and very touching.
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