Unintended 20

Hello. Yesterday was my 20th birthday. Cue thoughts of 'Wahey!'/ CryinghystericallybecauseIamnolongerateenager.

Naturally I should be going wild and partying like a truly disgraceful woman in her early twenties (shudder), but no. On Sunday night I contracted food poisoning from undercooked chicken, (ironically not from carnival,) and so I spent almost my entire birthday in my bed throwing up. NICE. It was not the day I had in mind but I try to look at the silver linging - as my mother so sweetly put it 'think of the weight you'll lose!' God bless her for trying, it reminded me of Romy and Michele.

But yeah as exciting as it was not being able to eat a morsel of food including delicious birthday dinner and home-made chocolate cream and runny chocolate ganache covered birthday cake with vanilla custard and home-made caramel, I did relax and have a 'sick' day. (See what I did there?) Thinking back on it now, it only means I can look forward to having an all-out smash next year for the big 21! I plan to be on a beach in Bali with my bestie, undoubtedly getting burnt but loving it, and having a no make-up, sun kissed, gorgeous day. It may be too soon to be thinking of next summer but I never stop dreaming.

On a completely contrary note, the weather of late, (minus pretty good sunny sunday), has actually got me excited for winter. Look, I'm a Londoner, and a girl, thus I can never make up my mind so I am allowed to want the weather we never have! I am fully aware I will complain about the cold when it comes no doubt but until then I am getting excited about a new wardrobe full of creative layering and yummy knits, hot drinks and CUDDLES :) Autumn is here and I am actually giddy. I am also on the edge of starting my final year at university which is TERRIFYING, but also quite cool. I'm grown, I'm living and on the edge of complete independance.

So all in all:

Carnival Carnage

Its bank holiday weekend at the end of August which means a few things:

1. Ma burfday :)

2. Shit loads of festivals meaning nobody is actually here for the amazing occasion of number 1.

3. CARNIVAAAAAAAL

Some snippets of number 3 highlighting the sunshine and blues that make up the Notting Hill rampage:

Me and Romy B (so many Romy's in my life <3)

The 'Elle' shorts got an outting!

and of course music!

Can models dance?

It appears that no, not really.

Can Alber Elbaz design? It would appear so!

Lanvin AW 2011/12 campaign video featuring Karen Elson, Raquel Zimmerman and ALBER (amongst others) grooving. By Steven Meisel.

By the sea.

I had a FamilyDayOut at Brighton yesterday, with a trip to the lanes, the beach, and a quakey ole' pub for a luncheon. I took it as an opportunity for some DIY/customising material hunting.

I came across the BEST beadshop ever! I bought about 120 beads, 3 packs of earring heads and clasps, wire, elastic, plus some valuable tips on jewellery making from the well informed owners of the shop, for less than a fiver! They are also available online so I can re-stock back in London. I've already made some pretty bracelets and am in the midst of some faaabulous feather earrings (yet to be revealed). Certainly a stop to make.

On the pier, I also saw some other great DIY makes made from shells found along the beach, like these quirky wall hangings and wind-charms.

In particular, I LOVED this shell chandelier. Its a littttttle trashy but it is impressive trashy, it was huge so obviously took a lot of work. Thinking of bringing a little sunshine around this shitty London district.

This motorbike was from a guy who had travelled all over the world by bike. He has stickers and signatures from all of the different countries he has been to; marking it individually. Below is displayed the map of route. 220,000 km. Woah. Certainly making my spinning classes look feeble...

Question:

I am sitting on my bed in a hoodie and comfy trackies and in the process of going to make a nice hot cup of tea. WHY? WHY is it pouring rain outside? WHY is it not 35 degrees with the sun shining and a hammock and paddling pool waiting for me outside? I think it is officially autumn now which kind of takes the piss. Now I realise why all those clever bitches booked their holiday for the mid to end of August rather than in sunny July. It is all an omen.

I went for coffee yesterday with Romy and her boyfriend and she introduced me to a 'Chai Latte'. It does not suprise me when she orders drinks I have never heard of because she is one of those annoyingly adorable quirky girls that ooze cool. To be honest it looked like baby sick, but a very very fine and smooth type of baby sick...

"Try it, it tastes like Christmas" she told me. I found this a very difficult offer to turn down because the idea of encapsulating an entire season in a drink seemed something so impossible I demanded myself to test such an obscene theory. SHE WAS RIGHT. It tastes like fucking Christmas. I got excited and nostalgic for winter, AND THAT IS WHY IT IS RAINING.

I even got giddy at the thought of the new knit-wear collections.

I finally checked out Forever 21 in Bond St yesterday too, since it is newly opened. It was your average trip, went in, browsed around, a man got stabbed in the neck outside the window... y'know, caj.

I managed to buy a few things (including this amazing kimono-esque cardi-throw-type-thing that I am absolutely in love with)

before the whole road got shut off by police and the rest of Oxford Street became a human sardine can. Then, it rained. Chortle, chortle, salt on the wound and all that.

Finger's crossed for the sun on my birthday sooooooon! :)

Gym'll fix it

Here is a word to the wise, if you are not used to going to the gym, do not go for a full on workout and then go out clubbing. Being me, I thought "I'll go to the gym for two hours and come out with the abs of Leanne Rimes." Instead, she just stands there with her goddamn wash-board stomach taunting me.

Those 450 abdominal crunches meant that the next day, combined with a hangover headache, no part of my body remained un-pained. It hurt when I laughed. I did console myself with a standard hangover mcdonalds... and pizza... and coca cola... so now I probably needn't have done them in the first place as its ruined again. What a vicious cycle. I remain undeterred though, soon you will see me looking like one of these girls, I'm not fussy.

State.

I am so overwhelmed with the amount of shit in my room that I took time out to take a snapshot of it for you. My dad has now made me a shoe-rack. I filled the shoe-rack. I now have two storage boxes of shoes I DON'T WEAR left over, and a fuck load of cardboard. Fml.

I have talented friends.

Everyone needs to check out this design look-book from my amazing friend Hannah Gant. I used to live with this hotty so I know how talented she is. I love this collection it is so fresh, girly, simple with obscure detail in the accessories. Browse through her other designs, but sorry guys, I have first dibs on future sell-out pieces.

Designed by Hannah Gant
Photographed by Nicola Dodds
Modelled by Sara Stokes

Good Morning

My first lie in days, I am jamming in my bedroom listening to 90's rap. A horrendously unhealthy breakfast of fried potatoes with melted cheese and browsing through my favourite blogs and new music. DELICIOUSS.

I showed you my brand spanking new bicycle earlier and I gone a little accessory mad with it. I came across these beauties:

Really want one of these hand-crocheted dress guards, straight from Dutch designer Simeli.

So many different designs, with prices up to 70 euros though, I may have to take up knitting again and create a knitted alternative. (My previous experiment with wool and needles was quite lumpy...)

Happy Days.

My daddy is amazing. He MADE me this.

IT EVEN HAS MY NAME ON IT (!)

I Predict a Riot. And a Revolution.

I'll stop the riot posts now because they are becoming quite depressing. There is enough damage physically around this city, [once] citied as one of the biggest, stylish, most forward-thinking cities in world, that we do not need constant reminders here.

I would say it is off-topic for this blog, but it is not. I read today about how one looter charged is a straight A student daughter of a countryside millionaire, and how this is supposed to be a massive surprise. I suppose on the whole, it is. We do not equate rioting 'scum' and violent criminals with the well educated and wealthy. People are trying to make excuses for those rioting by saying they stole because they are poor and need the money, have no moral example at home, or frankly are not studied enough to either get a proper job or even just occupy their time. Well it appears now that we are wrong. Why did people think this about those involved simply by just looking at them? In mid-riot there is no chance to chat to people, or even get a close up in some cases. We just glance at them and see a baggy hoodie and tracksuit.

Adidas: the official sponsors of the London Riots.

The way people present themselves still remains a representation of their personality, status and political views, whether we like it or not. People seem to disregard this but I ask you: If a woman in an elegant dress and welcoming expression had walked around the area, would you have suspected her? A man in a modest suit and tie clutching a bag of shopping - automatically stolen or "clearly" lawfully bought? Of course I don't kid myself that there is nothing more to it, I wouldn't dare be so unthoughtful, naive or downright fucking stupid but it is time that people look at themselves in all areas and ask if this is who they want to be. Everything is related nowadays: fashion, politics, economics, religion, health, education. We need to look at this nation as a whole and think about EVERYTHING that is wrong, not just blame it on a seldom few. There is no excuse for ignorance.

To end on a lighter note, I came across this tumblr created by some photoshop whizz. It rightfully humiliates those involved, but also ironically shows how modern society can act ridiculously - the Justin Bieber one for instance could very believably be a real situation, though I doubt the Beibster's biggest fans are a bunch of laddy thugs...

Aftermath.

So had a casual stroll into my town broadway today. This was what I saw:

Makes me sad.

My Hometown.

There is so much hate in the world. This is the place I've grown up in for 20 years in a state of chaos last night. I can't get my head around it; what are they fighting for? When young people's first instinct is to be violent and criminal, when they actually find it sadistically 'fun', when they do not even hesitate to cause damage, danger and fear, you really have to step back and reconsider how this world is being run. Speechless.

Dream Job.

Up to and including her posture.

Courtesy of OscarPRGirl.

Sales wait for no (wo)man

This is me right now:

Well obviously it is not me but this is the perfect sum-up of my state right now. Even the bed is identical to my own.

I am writing this having not been to sleep since Friday night. If you can read correctly, yes, it is Sunday afternoon. I went to a friend's 21st last night , (Saturday, keep up,) and after some happy partying, gleeful drinking, witnessed inadvertent fighting, and finally cab waiting, I got home at 8am, only to be told by my parents: 'Don't bother going to bed yet we are out the door in 20 minutes'. Just the thing I want to hear obviously.

So anyway this disgustingly early morning start is because of another car boot sale I am oh so partial to.

This was quite an experience because at 8.30am after a party and no sleep, I was still a bit, well, drunk. Happy days. Another rookie error was that when I came home and demolished the only food I could find - a burger with onions just cooked - BIG MISTAKE. Chunder thunder started to grow within my intestine but luckily I'm a professional girl when it comes to any form of shopping so I kept it down. I really don't know why I am telling you all this. Anyway, I wandered around the boiling hot field in last nights makeup and the feeling I was on another planet. I ended up buying a few things; a sensible book, a kitsch vintage bag, some ankle booties and what I like to now call my 'Fugly' shoes. Shoes so fucking ugly they can only be bought when drunk, but still almost adorable. I am going to make them work - I love the colour shade and the tassels are reminiscent of Alexa loafers. I was quite surprised that I found anything to actually fit me which was probably more reason than not to buy them and jazz them up. I was too into a hangover though to barter, along with the bag, so I could have probably got an even better deal but I wasn't even sure what I was doing so it sufficed.

My purchases 'yol:

Bag, £5

Boots, £4

Fugly shoes, £4

So now, bargains sought, a roast in my belly, Elle's night night time. SEE YOU NEXT WEEK.