Boys on the Radio

Top*: Second hand, Skirt: American Apparel, £27 Bracelet: (Mixture of 3) Lou makes Hoodie*: Boyfriends Jacket*: Vintage

It was a dismal and bitter December night; the wind was violently tearing through all it came across, rain slammed itself against the windows and the night seemed to swallow any flicker of light that dared spoil its dark bastion. But somewhere amongst the Yorkshire dales, a blogger awoke and once more took to her keyboard, and so it was a ghost blog no more…

HI GUYS. I thought I’d step into the overused, soiled and completely un-wearable boots of Mr. Charles Dickens for you all considering its Christmas and all- didn’t quite work did it? What. A. Shame.

Well I may as well just plunge right into it then. I have been a terrible, terrible excuse of a blogger lately. It’s been well over a month since I last posted and for that I feel awful. My excuse is feeble really, but I am going to drench you in it anyway and then coat you all in apologises in the hope you’ll be too busy looking at the pretty sugar glaze to remember that you’re soaking wet (I am nice). Basically, it has been too cold to even consider wearing anything remotely nice. I’ve been far too busy desperately trying to drown myself in layers to think about what look they collectively create. Luckily I have finally got some money in my pocket (aka. Bank) and so will do what most other mammals are too inferior to do in the winter- hunt. Yes, yes, it may not be for food (although I have been spending an absurd amount of time in Greggs recently devouring their Christmas tree biscuits), but, lets be honest now, you wouldn’t catch a squirrel waking up in dark and dragging itself to work every morning. Oh no, squirrels have the pleasure of staying in their little homes all warm and sleeping until the cold has subsided. We don’t. Therefore it is perfectly acceptable for a human to buy new clothes in order to keep itself warm. And yes, they do have to be pretty, because otherwise the human in question will be deemed unattractive and thus be unable to attract a mate and then the whole human race and the meaning of life itself will be undermined, and that’s not good at all. (Applaud here).

So there we have it, my excuse.

I’m not too pleased with my blog at the moment, I think it is seriously lacking in depth. All outfit post and no other things(?) makes Jess a dull girl. I am hoping to do some reviews and videos etc. very soon. I never intended this blog to be just outfit posts- that’s not really the sort of blog I read myself, I prefer a variety of features and a bit of personality, which I can’t really say my blog has at the moment. Hi motivation, bit of help here mate?

And finally a long overdue hello to all of my new followers! Who would have thought that by not posting I could gain followers- I hope you’re not trying to tell me something there! I’ve said it before and I will say it again, I am genuinely ridiculously grateful to everyone that takes the time to look at my ickle blog and comment and read what I have to say. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I, of course, being me and all, have tons more to say, but I am going to spare you from my ramblings for now and save them for another post. I hope you’re all feeling more festive than I am and that no one has lost any valuable limbs from the cold!

Lots of love

LISTENING TO: Morrissey, Alma Matters *were all free as they are hand-me-downs/borrowed from friends or family

Conversation 16

Coat: £35, TK MAX Cardigan: Free, Kyle's wardrobe Fur stole: (Vintage) Free, Sister's wardrobe Dress: Free, Sister's wardrobe Necklace: 99p, Market Shop in Liverpool Belt: £1.50, Primark Breaking News: Blogger has time to write on blog. I know, truly shocking; I know my jaw dropped. I have been dreading coming home all day due to the enormous list of house duties I had to do, but to my absolute astonishment, Kyle Hamilton has tidied up, without me even asking.

I honestly am stunned; is he possessed? And last night, instead of playing FIFA all night like usual, he put a film on and cuddled me because I was feeling a bit (ie. Extremely) down. And, wait for it, this is a massively alien happening, he let me eat his Macaroni cheese. What an absolute angel he can be (this isn’t sarcastic- I genuinely am really happy that he has done these things, any girl who lives with her boyfriend will understand!).

So this is what I wore today, I took these pictures in the morning before I left for college so that I could take full advantage of the daylight, and also because I find it mortifying when I get home and find that apparently in the 5 or so hours I haven’t looked in a mirror, I have transformed into a complete mess (well, more than I am usually anyway). So my make-up and hair is freshly done as well, congratulations me.

Because I spend every second I possibly can in my bed in the morning, and I am one of those people who cannot rush to save their lives, I have to time myself very precisely in order to get ready in time for my train; 10 minutes in the bathroom, 5 minutes making coffee, 5 minutes getting dressed, 15 minutes on my face, 10 minutes on my hair, 10 minutes to put shoes on, find keys and panic, 10 minutes to get to the train station. Because of this, those 10 minutes in the bathroom is spent in the shower racking my brain about what to wear (and to wash obviously, I do wash! Hahaha).

Now usually what I wear depends on how much I have eaten the night before; I get bloated ridiculously easily, I could literally eat a pea and I will swell to the size of a woman in her second trimester, but since recently I have been too busy/cold/lazy/poor to eat as much as I usually do (I feel like a traitor to womankind- it’s feast night as soon as I get enough money) it hasn’t really been an issue what I wear and so I put on this dress. As it says, it was free, because it was my sisters. My Mum bought it last year for her to wear to school, but she got told off for it and didn’t like it enough to wear it casually, and so I took it off her hands because I am such a good sister. It was originally from George at ASDA, which by the way, is my favourite supermarket clothes brand by miles. If I don’t wear a belt with it, it hangs too low and I flash my tits to the world, but wearing a belt hoists it too far up at the back and my arse is visible, so I wear a basic H&M skirt underneath to protect my modesty. I love this cardigan, Kyle hasn’t even noticed I wear it, but considering it was here when we moved in, I am guessing it was from when he was about 18, and he probably forgot he even had it. Finders keepers!

I finally found out what one of those fur things are called, so they no longer have to referred to as exactly that, “fur thing”, because apparently that just isn’t ~fashion~. I do find the name quite ironic though, I mean, mine is faux but if it was real, it would be a fur stole from a poor animal. Yeah, ssh with the animal rights Miss. Baines; there’s a time and a place- this isn't it.

Right, considering no one has been complaining about my shorter posts, I am guessing they are quite acceptable, and as I am trying to obliterate my dangerous lack of understanding of the concept of moderation, I am supposing I should stop about now.

Je t'adore tous! (Yeah, D at GCSE French, I know you're all tres jealous of my skillz)

Always dark.

Dress: £10, Republic, Belt: £1.50-2.00, Primark, Necklace: 99p, Market shop in Liverpool, Tights: £2.00, Primark Just going to keep it short and sweet today. Hugely disappointed with the picture quality of this outfit post; it's just so dark when I get home. I usually just use the flash when it's dark, but it just completely washed out the dress and looked far too anemic, so I had to work with artificial light, and so I turned out the colour of a Simpson, hence the major de-saturation- but life must go on.
I am so excited- those who you who follow me on twitter will have seen my utter joy at my retweet by my favourite person on Made In Chelsea (my favourite show in the world), Miss Millie Mackintosh herself, and then to make things even better, one of my inspirations, all-round-beaut and ridiculously hilarious model, from Dirty Sexy Things, Charlotte tweeted me this morning! Star struck! This is the worst blog post in the world...but there is nothing I can do to save it- those pictures have deflated me completely, and my jacket potatoes are calling me.

And with that I will love you and leave you,

Nice Day for a Sulk

Jumper: H&M £6.99, Blouse: Vintage Market, £6.00, Leggings: £3.00, Primark, Necklace: 99p, Market Shop in Liverpool

Why hello there. So it is bonfire night, and, as a British citizen, I am excited. The fireworks at Harrogate didn’t disappoint, and I was there, with my head strained, gazing up at the display with my mouth gaping (I didn’t, however, feel the need, like many people there, to go “Oooh” and “Ahhh” at each bang. Nor did I feel it necessary to shout “Oh yes! Yes!”, as the lady next to me did the whole way through, sounding like she was getting some strange erotic thrill. You need to get laid love).

However much I love fireworks, I do have some reservations about them. First of all, what we are actually celebrating is grotesquely patriotic; I mean, in principle, we’re all joyously commemorating the failure of a potentially revolutionary event- although it was for religious reasons that Guy Fawkes and his accomplices plotted to blow up the Houses of Parliament, he was at least trying to do what he thought right, and so by celebrating the failure of the Gunpowder Plot and burning dolls in his resemblance is actually us, without necessarily realising, saying “anyone who wants to start a revolution, fuck off or you’ll end up here”. Yes, yes, it might be a little extreme, but in the current climate- what with the protest movement and the Medias excessive demonising of the people occupying St. Pauls etc. it is quite sickening to see a whole nation having peas and pies and holding up their glasses to someone who died as an accidental Martyr to revolution (I like revolutions. There is nothing better than a good, hard proletariat revolution).

Another reason I don’t like bonfire night is because I completely and utterly disagree with the selling of fireworks to the public. I don’t care what anybody says- a few thousand families enjoying fireworks in their back gardens is not a justification for the gruesome and shocking amount of injuries that take place every year because of people using them irresponsibly. Growing up where I did, I knew of many people who ended up without eyes and with serious burns because of misuse of fireworks by absolute fucking idiots who somehow think it amusing to throw them at people/post them through letterboxes etc. every year I dreaded me, a friend, or a family member being the victim to one of these horrendous attacks. It’s just not worth it, and I really don’t know why the Government hasn’t put a stop to it. Unfortunately, yes, it is the minority ruining it for the majority, but it’s not worth the suffering, pain, panic and cost to lives and our NHS. There are plenty of amazing, and completely free, council-run firework displays that people can go to instead.

Anyway, as I was saying before I went on a rant, tonight we went to Harrogate and watched the fireworks there. We did the same last year, except Kyle came with us and I was wearing my PJs (you can take the girl out of Liverpool... you know the rest). This year my friends April and Phil, who are newly engaged (congratulations again!) came, and I got to see her beautiful ring, and new couple, Sam and Sammi. We’re all really close friends so it was really nice. Becca, Vicky, April and me were getting rather jealous of Sam and Sammi though- they wouldn’t let go of each other! Oh, those first few months of a relationship (you know, before you get to see more of each others underwear when you're putting the washing on than any other time!...). We then went back to Ilkley and had some food in Wetherspoons, which was nice. So all in all, a really nice day.

I had a good day yesterday as well; my History tutor (finally) marked my essays, and kept me behind and told me how impressed he was with my work (modest, I know). All of his comments were really positive and encouraging. Jade and me think he has a girlfriend, he was in unusually high spirits. English was actually productive as well, when I managed to sway the class from talking about Katie Price and other irrelevant points of utter bullshit and get back on Jane Eyre...

I was going to go and see Belle and Sebastian tomorrow with Kyle, and I was really excited, but in the end I am really glad I didn't buy the tickets as the website I was on conveniently failed to mention the fact that it wasn't Belle and Sebastian at all but one of the singers that had gone solo! He might be good solo, but it's just not Belle and Sebastian.

Anyway, Mr. Hamilton should be arriving back from work very soon, so I should probably wrap this up before he gets back (and before you decide to hack off my fingers in order to shut me up). Again, one day soon I will actually write about the clothes... Hope everyone has had a lovely, safe bonfire night!

As always, lots of loveeeee

Rest my Chemistry

Skirt: £12, Primark Vest: £3.99, H&M Belt: £1.50(?), Primark Jacket: £15, H&M Fake fur thing: Vintage, (Price unknown as it's my sisters)

I am having to take extreme haste in this post, as I have about six thousand (that’s my rough estimate) things to do & the night is ageing at such a rapid pace that which each glance at the time my heart just about stops.

Unfortunately, my exhaustion has not been vanquished by the weekend, it has but taken on a more ridiculous form. I have been sleeping on the train, I have been sleeping when I got home; I have been sleeping at all times that my eyes are allowed a brief rest, except at night! It is not that I do not try, or even that I can’t, it is my ‘other (not better) half’ and his new toy- a 40” HD tv. He has moved his Playstation into the bedroom and has decided that sleep is not of great importance. It’s slowly killing me, I swear.

I took these pictures on Monday, and what with all my sleeping, I just haven’t found the time to post them, and it’s increasingly pissing me off because the weather is gorgeous and even when I get home at half 5 the sun is still glorious and pictures would be easy, so I thought I’ll just post them & get it over with. (And now to totally contradict my seeming enjoyment of the said weather...)

Ah the Weather. I think talking of the weather is one, if not the most mundane topics of conversation, however, I am going to have to at least make a brief comment on it: I hate it. I am sorry my dear England, but giving us 3 days of sun at the very cliff of September is not a sufficient apology for such a hideous summer. We’re not prepared for such weather, and I despise you. That’s all I have (time) to say on the matter. Oh, and a warning: don’t wear thick woollen tights. You will regret it (seriously I thought my legs were going to combust suddenly and engulf me in flames).

Hmm what else to say... I’m hoping to get my hair done this week by my friend Vicky, she works at Saks and does my hair for free (she won’t touch it with bleach though; as she is convinced it will all fall out. Even though she has over 5 years of hairdressing experience I am still absolutely certain that she is wrong, it's going to be a sad day when she is proved right). She always does it really nice though, and I thought (before this stupid weather) since it was getting colder I could wear it down without the worry of getting a bit too sweaty and staining all of my clothes (yes, it does happen). Hopefully it will be done this week and I can finally relinquish my top knot (oh no she didn’t).

Right, need to start work! Hope everyone is enjoying the sunshine more than I am! Lurrvve you all.

Drown Soda

Blouse: £6, Vintage, Skirt: £10, Urban Outfitters, Jumper: Boyfriends, Necklace: Same as almost every other of my outfit posts!

I. Am. So. Tired. I am not too sure why; I have no particular reason for being so- it is not as if I have actually done anything significantly exhausting today, and I had a minor lie-in yesterday (I had to take the day off to go to the Doctors). To be honest, I don't even know why I am fighting it- it would be wonderfully more simple if I just slept! But, oh no, I must not allow myself to sleep when I am tired! What an absurd notion that is! Sleeping when needing sleep? Pssht, you would think me half-human! So advanced apologies for this post; I don't know what I am going to write, I am just going to write, and whatever my fingers conjure will be posted, 'cos I really cannot be dealing with pissing about on here making sure I sound as sane as possible. I'm also getting really irritated because I made a lil' playlist before put it on shuffle, and it supposedly has 4 hours worth of songs on it, but I swear it's just repeating the same sequence. The computer must be about 2 meters away, but I really can't be arsed moving, so I suppose I should stop moaning about it...
Anyhow, this is what I wore to college today. I obviously couldn't be arsed ironing my skirt, you say? Correct- I avoid ironing unless it's absolutely unavoidable. I once read an interview with Fearne Cotton when I was about 11 where she said that "Ironing is a waste of life"- I instantly decided that that was the absolute truth, and have since been wearing creased clothes. I try and find clothes that don't crease easily, or hang them out to dry properly for minimal creasing; I just really hate ironing.
Kyle has attempted to ban me from wearing his clothes, but he clearly isn't trying too hard, because I've adopted this jumper and one of his chunky-knit cardigans, along with all of his T-shirts (I got pink Nail Varnish on one of his Morrissey ones, we were both distraught, but it was still quite funny & it's now almost definitely mine. Winner.) The way I see it is, if he wanted to borrow one of my items of clothing, this skirt for example, I would welcome him to it, so he's really just cruel and unwilling to share... The skirt is one of the two things I own from Urban Outfitters, the other being a shirt I got in the same sale about two years ago. It was reduced from £30 zillion or something stupid, and it was reduced to a tenner, and I liked it, so I bought it. It pretty much goes with everything (except maybe my hair) and is my go-to alternative to one of my black skirts (I swear I used to own pants once...) and I like the shape, it's probably one of my favorite items of clothing, but I don't wear it enough (note taken: must wear more). The Blouse is fairly new, from a Vintage fair in Leeds, it was the first thing I saw that I liked when I went in there, and luckily a good two hours later when I went back to the stall it was still there (phew), and now it's in my wardrobe (still a luxury saying "wardrobe" not suitcase...). I didn't actually take the jumper off all day in college- I just put the blouse on for the collar, but when I got home and saw how it looked avec (again, French Genius here) the skirt I think with a decent bra it would actually look pretty good...
I had so much to tell you all! But my head has obviously turned to absolute shit (wouldn't surprise me if it had liquidised and is now it's contents are just a vile cocktail of Aspartame, Diet Coke and Coffee), so I will leave you with a comment about the difference in the pictures: I must have caught the right lighting in one and then truly screwed it in all of them taken after. See, it was definitely not a waste of time reading that... Right, sleep, before I wake up and there are various members of the Blogosphere waving me off to the mental hospital. I promise a more coherent post next time!

Love,

LISTENING TO- Malibu, Hole, Celebrity Skin (album)

A song from under the floorboards...

Shirt: £1, Cow Vintage, Belt: £1.50, Primark Tights: £1.50, Discount Store Bag: £9, Primark

Behold, the worst Outfit post known to modern man! I keep forgetting to take pictures and getting home and whipping my PJs straight on, so even though this outfit is rather hideous I thought, for the sake of Blogging, I should post it anyway. I got this shirt for a mere pound in Birmingham (I love how that makes me sound so well-traveled...) on the way to Devon with my family. The Liverpool to Birmingham coach took an hour less time than scheduled so we had two hours to kill in the coach station, and my sister and I spotted a Vintage shop across the road, and I found this and somehow thought it was the greatest thing in existence and I just had to buy it. Whoever owned this was a gigantic man with an appetite for Ralph Lauren- it's the only designer thing I own, which I think is a testament to my character, really. The tights I bought yesterday because slimming tights seem to be more comfortable and actually stay up! However it wasn't until I stuck them on this morning (I got dressed at 9:30 when my train was at 9:40, really bad idea...) and ran out of the house that I realised they are obviously designed to go under midi skirts and not anything that rides well above the knees, because you can clearly see the thigh slimming bits. I didn't fret about it too much though, I figured most people would just think them bicycle shorts or strange tights. I really like them, they're so comfortable, although I did put a ladder in them before and then decided I couldn't possibly throw them away so just ripped them in other places to make it look like I meant to do it...

I am feeling less than inspired with the way I look recently- my hair has suddenly decided it wants to grow at a rapid pace for the first time in years of willing it to get longer, leaving me with 3cm roots after a mere 3 weeks of dying it. It's also getting really patchy and I can't bare to have it out until it is fixed, but I am absolutely skint and so can't do that until I have a job! Hence why it is constantly in a top knot (this is also due to my lack of time in the morning and the poor weather). I am also breaking out really badly again, and I know why it is- I can't remember the last time I had a liquid that wasn't diet coke or coffee (or wine). Must. Drink. More. Water. I've also been eating copious amounts of food, none of which is good for me, and sleeping very little. All are contributing to my feeling of heightened disillusionment with how I look.

I would usually go on now about money, and my having none, but it is depressing me and panicking me so much that I can't even bring myself to write about it.

College is going well; I spent all of last night writing a play for history, I went a little too far and after watching all of the other groups in the class perform their un-thought-out pieces of shit, my over-dramatised and elaborate script ended up looking rather idiotic, but all was not lost, as my Tutor asked for a copy and congratulated me on my writing skillz. The further into education I get, the more I start to realise that History is the subject that I have always enjoyed far more than any of the others, even English. I wish there was more you could do with it than teach it or be an archaeologist...

And with that, I am off to put on my PJs and watch Made in Chelsea. Hope everyone is well! Love,

WARNING: Word-heavy and a bit all-over-the-place. An Update.

Firstly, I have to thank all of those who have visited my lil’blog, and even though I only have a few followers, knowing that people are actually taking the time to read it means more than you could know. I find myself quite pathetically over-joyed that people are taking an interest.
I have to apologise in advance to all those who prefer pictures to words. I am a great lover of the latter. Due to this blog being fairly new (or maybe it’s just shit; it’s up to you), I have very little followers, and so I haven’t really mastered the technique of determining the difference between what I want to write, and what you want to read. The problem is, I am not an aspiring blogger, I am hopeful writer. But I suppose, if all the words you wanted came in the form of a small caption, you would be on Tumblr (and certainly not on my blog ahaha).

No matter how personally reserved and unbiased you try and be, a blog is essentially always going to be an echo of the blogger themselves, and this one is no different. My intention isn’t to gain thousands of followers and be presented with sponsors and masses of free gifts and clothes (although that would be rather lovely), it is simply a place to put my thoughts. There is no need to worry though- I won’t be posting about every time I need a wee or I’ve cut myself shaving. They’ll be as well filtered and relevant as I can make possible (which, as you can already see, isn’t going down well). I find I am more comfortable and uncomplicated when I write as if it is only to myself, so I do apologise to anybody who finds this blog goes somehow a little off-topic. I think ‘fashion’ blog is much too vague of a title.



Anyway, enough of that all that, I have some news; quite a lot of it, in fact. As I have previously mentioned, I have recently quit my job. Now, it was a decision that wasn’t easy to make, and when I got home from my last shift on Sunday I spent a good few hours of going between “fuck, what have I done” and “I have made the right decision”. But it was the right thing to do. So I am now unemployed, and if you could all give me a few quid a week, I could make this blog my profession, and we can all be happy. No, seriously now, I am feeling a little lost without it, but I’m sure it’ll pass.

Next! (I have so much to tell, my head is spilling with things to say and so it’s all just coming out in one terrible smack of the keys). The reason I have quit is because I am going home! Yes, Liverpool, I am returning to you. I am bizarrely nervous. In the last 4 months I have only been home, perhaps Four times, for no longer than two days, and those two days have been shifting between friends and family constantly with no time to entertain but a thought. I feel so disconnected to the person I was when I left; I am disturbingly different, and yet it as though back home everything has been motionless. This why I am pretty terrified- my family and friends haven’t had a chance to adapt to how I have altered. They’ll all be expecting the return of the girl who left, when she no longer exists. I no longer know how to be myself. That’s the untainted truth: I am petrified of going home, because I’m not sure who I am, or who I want to be.

So, not to get emotional or too caught up in creating a self-fashioned physiological profile, I will divulge mine and Kyle’s flawless and previously undisclosed, well guarded plan, aka. A seriously chaotic series of snippets from attempted conversations we’ve had about what the f*ck we’re actually doing. Basically, I am going home for a month, to try and ‘settle’ myself before I go to college in September, and then when I come back we’re moving into his Dad’s. Problem is, I am going to Liverpool on Saturday, the same day he is going on holiday for a week, and the room we’re moving into I haven’t even seen yet, never-mind inflicted with my taste in interiors. So we are a little panicky (well, he’s not, but I am panicking for us both).

Kyle and I, since we have been together, have only spent 10 days without seeing each other, and we both didn’t appreciate it very much, so a month is going to be hard, but I think we’re both looking forward to it. We need to miss each other. (And he needs to realise how much I do for him. Oh God I wish I could watch him try and keep up with all the shopping, washing, ironing etc. It would be so gratifying). So that is that very vaguely explained (which is what we all want because I’m already on 850 words).

Right, what else... When I go back to Liverpool you will no longer have to suffer with these self-indulgent, seriously poorly structured and irrelevant posts, because I will have a camera. It is also going to help that there is actually shops. Oh fuck I can’t even tell you how animated I am every time I think of the shops. Until you move to a small town, you will never fully appreciate the need for hundreds of corner shops, or a local H&M. So basically, it will be what you signed up for, rather than ‘what is this girl on about? Why is she posting essays?’. Which should be good.


Now for a more relevant update. The Purse, Podge and Pores detox is actually going really well. Last month I got paid about £40 less, and I ended up with about 10 days at the end of the month where I didn’t have a penny- this month I have about £80 of my wages left, and I am owed £67 by friends (which I will get back-mark my words). To put this in perspective for ya, I (did) get paid £3.64 an hour (I know, you don’t have to tell me how shit that is, I already know) and I’d work about 25 hours a week on average. I have to pay for our food, toiletries, cleaning products etc. etc. (remember I live 90 miles away from my family, who can’t afford to give me any money, and that I am not a sixth-former who has a job to cater for their Thursday night partying). So I got paid £345 last month and I still have £147 left. I didn’t even realise, it wasn’t (admittedly) a conscious decision, I was just more careful this month (ie. I realised that just because I had money in my bank doesn’t mean it’s limitless). I have also had that horribly expensive night in the Malmasion, and went to the RiverIsland sale, and generally been a lot more socially active this month. And to top it off, it's payday on Friday, and I am going to get about £100 more than last month, (and going home means I get free food, which is going to taste so much better). I am genuinely so proud of myself.

Since I started drinking more water, and moisturising every night, my skin has almost completely cleared up. It is so much better. Even Kyle has noticed. It was really so much easier than I thought.

Now regarding the ‘podge’, I have been tackling it, but it is more to do with the fact I have completely lost my appetite so have only been eating to stop myself from feeling weak. (I intend to do a separate post about this).



Now, thanks to all you sexy people, my technique of saving for a camera has allowed me so far to save £17.50 (which is in cash, so is in addition to my amazing money saving).
Luckily for you all, that’s all I can think of. If you have read all of this, you are either mental, or an extrememly lovely person, and you should comment so that I know who has suffered because of this tremendously word-heavy post. (I promise as soon as I get home there will be photos!). Lots of love.

LISTENING TO: Louder than Bombs- The Smiths

PURSE, PODGE & PORES DETOX

I have been meaning to write and post this for a while now, but me being me, every time I went to do it I have been heavily diverted by irrelevant paths of links upon links. I wanted it to be well researched and refined, but, again, me being me, I have, since occupying myself with the idea for this post, have came to the senseless and counter-productive “justification” that until I post this blog, I can spend, eat and do the general opposite the title. And now I am just getting increasingly penniless, plump and imperfect- which is bad.
I am going on holiday (to sunny Devon) on the 5th of August and I have decided that, at the elderly age of Seventeen, it is about time I pop my bikini cherry. With holidays comes wet hair, no make-up and terrifyingly tiny and tight pieces of lycra. So that means that having hair that only comes out of a top knot once a year (I push the boat out each birthday), skin that is seriously deprived of anything good (my lips only see Pepsi Max, Coffee and cigarettes and the occasional OJ- water is something that is seriously lacking in my life) and a belly constantly pumped full of Morrisons crisp and sweet deals (Oh Hai £1 pringles), is generally not going to work in my favour.
I have gained a gruesome 14lbs + in the past Six months- I think moving in with your boyfriend is possibly the worst thing anyone who has a tendency to think “all or nothing” regarding food(/everything)- and it makes me uncomfortable. I can’t sit here and claim I don’t know how it’s happened- my diet has gone seriously downhill since I started earning my own money (thus being able to afford, and convince myself that I ‘deserve’ copious amounts of chocolate and crips). NOTE: I don’t want to focus too much on the weight side of things on this blog as I have had eating problems throughout my adolescence and this is (admittedly) my first non weight-loss focused blog.
I will no longer be in employment from this Sunday (24th- will talk about this in another post), and so I need to stop being so reckless regarding spending. I rarely ever buy anything I actually want (clothes etc.) and I am very careful with shopping, I just tend to leech my account dry by spending little bits here on there on sh*t I don’t need (Pepsi Max, Quavers, I hate you).
The beauty of this all is that they all flow beautifully into each other: If I stop spending money on food, I save money and loose weight and my skin will improve and vice versa.

(Will do a more ‘atheistic’ and in depth version tomorrow) Basically I am just going to drink a lot of water and stop eating such rubbish food.

I will keep everyone updated on how this is going. I hope that the fact that I have to post it in here will force me to keep on top of it. I have literally 17 days (Oh Jesus) to shatter my appalling lack of body confidence and squeeze myself into a bikini. This could be interesting...