March 29, 2013 § Leave a comment
Quite frankly, my plan for Good Friday was to listen to Breakbot the entire day (he looks like Jesus, so I believe his mixes can be classified as contemporary church music) and drink red wine. But I happen to be in Ireland and apparently in this country they don’t sell booze on Good Fridays .
Makes no sense. I mean red wine is like totally Jesus blood?!
March 15, 2013 § Leave a comment
Smoking kids by Frieke Janssens.
I’ve been told that when people bore me at parties I give them exactly the same look as the last babe.
March 11, 2013 § Leave a comment
I know I might come out as a massive pervert
(wouldn’t be the first time, ey), but I really feel like marrying a dog. Like REALLY really.
Check out my future husband on this Tumblr.
March 9, 2013 § Leave a comment
Last night I re-watched the Virgin Suicides.
Today I feel like doing nothing just eating raspberries, soaking up in a bath with Lush’s Rose Jam Bubble Bar, listening to old records on a vinyl player (not that I have one, so I guess will have to settle for my iPhone #whitegirlproblems) and lusting over boys.
I also got myself some perfume, a pink lipstick and macaroons. Well you know, just to set the mood.
Not that they had Ladurée in American suburbs in the 70s.
Also, this is like the greatest scene in the history of movies.
March 8, 2013 § Leave a comment
So Nessy is this blogger chick (blogger as in ‘blogs for the living’) that I met a little while ago at some dinner party in Paris.
Oh Paris. Hands down, her take on Paris Fashion Week is the best thing I’ve seen since
stripped to the waist construction workers next door Margiela for H&M.
Jesus. Jeeeesus? Really want to make friends with horsie and rabbit now.
March 6, 2013 § 1 Comment
Me crushing over COS as usual. Is it spring yet?
I sort of feel like I made the biggest mistake of my life by wearing one of those ridiculous hot hippie couture flower print baggy pants for 6 weeks straight in South East Asia. You know the ones all backpackers wear? Oh man, what was I thinking.
Can’t even show people photos of my travels now. These Hippie Backpacker Pants really made me look like I was giving away free hugs or worse… was one step away from getting dreadlocks. Just sayin’. Veni, Vidi, Failed. Way too embarrassing.
Even more embarrassing than the time I deleted all contact details on my phone of this guy I was in love with not to drunk text him (to say the least), but then called some information hotline at 3 am to get the number back.
BUT NOW I feel like I have to pay my dues to society and wear nothing but tailored COS pants and buttoned up shirts (got the baby blue one above already).
In my defense, I did try to pull off a buttoned up shirt in the glam of Khao San Road (see here), but some guy told me that I looked like Harry Potter. Not that a guy wearing an Ed Hardy T-shirt was in a position to judge anyway, but I guess he had a point. I wasn’t exactly blending in.
It’s also worth mentioning, that I still feel pretty heavily traumatized by the amount of guys in tank tops I had seen during my Asia travels. I’m talking, as in ‘having-nightmares’ traumatized.
Rule number one, boys do not wear tank tops. Rule number two, boys DO NOT wear tank tops even if it’s like plus +62C outside. No way, Jose. Unless you are Magic Mike starring in a soft porn movie. But that’s like borderline, my friend. Rule number three, boys shop at COS and wear cashmere sweaters with pleated shirts. Grrr.
But then again. Maybe it’s just me alone that is pathologically allergic to boys in tank tops. For instance, I came across this man-cookie, totalz eatable.
Would be eatable even in a tutu. But would look so much better in a white tight T-shirt, no?
What do YOU think?