Hair-spiration.

Today I'm getting inspiration for my next hair move, that I shall be making at the end of summer.

I went brunette for winter:

And then I bleached it for summer because bleached blonde hair is a summer essential:

(This was really quite traumatic. I'm a poor student and so obvs I bleached it at home. The first attempt went GINGER. Actually not even ginger. A sort of orange colour. Not the desired effect, truth be told. I spent all night bleaching my hair but I still had to venture out the next day with weird yellow hair. I was going to the Bowie Is exhibition so I just painted my lips purple and wore some very old tartan trousers and embraced punk in homage to Bowie's best 70's looks.

 

Side note: The exhibition is FAB. Because I was desperateeeee to go but didn't get my act together in time to get hold of a ticket I became a member of the V&A just so I could go and it's totally worth it.)

And next I want to go white/lilac. Does that make sense?? Almost a sort of blue rinse, but without the set and winter fuel allowance.

 

And then I remembered how fab Mary Kate and Ashley were in the 90s days:

 

 

 

Which got me super duper excited for my 90s themed party I'm going to have for my 20th birthday in the house in Bristol eeek!!!

 

And 90s Gwen is just too amazing to miss out on:

 



 



Hope everyone is having a happy hair day!

 

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.

 

 

 

 

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.