Spring/Summer 09

DO.NOT.LIKE. (sort of)

Not feeling DKNY's neon's really. It just reminds me of 2006 and all the neon leggings and whistle necklaces when everyone was SOooO nU RAve!!:1!L! ......................we thought we were cool at the time in our defence.

HATE HATE HATE HARLEM PANTS.
They sould be called hatelem pants or something. Or hairlem cat balls. I don't know. All I know is that they're crap and make people look like retarded fat middle-aged women on holiday.


Tribal clothing. Don't mind it too much, it just needs to be less obvious. I just dislike how they try and bring it back every summer. Then again maybe it's just because I got a wooden bangle stuck on my wrist once.


But then again I do have much love for all the fringing (hi Jil Sander) even though Primark are overdoing the fringed moccasins and sent them to an early grave. Massive, chunky, sculptured heels are also still doing it for me. I want to lick everything Kurt Geiger related which will probably imprint snake-skin pattern on my tongue. SPEAKING OF WHICH I AM WELL ON.
I'm all for animal rights and stuff but I can't help liking fur and patent snakeskin. Obviously not the type where you have fox's heads dangling round your neck, but I do like it when it looks like it hasn't been cruelly ripped off the back of an animal. I like secondhand fur and hide, and I just hate how most people treat me as though I'm a cruel satanist animal killer who eats kitten heads when I wear my furry russian hat. Most people wear leather which is practically the same, so unless those people start living in caves and eating moss I do not want them assuming they have the moral highground on me.

Shit blogpost. Shit times. Ill at home with no human interaction apart from my family's for the past three days, so I'm starting to talk to random objects waiting for them to talk back. But I doubt they ever will. (sob)
Probably going to go eat some more chocolate mini rolls as I'm sure my Mother wants me to die of obesity. Then possibly cry and talk to a tap or whatever.

WHAT AN EVENTFUL LIFE.

K bai

Oh hai



His chin interests me.










Also, what is up with the constant let-downs?
:/

The reason I wake up every day.

Not even death stands in the way of love.

Oh I almost forgot

HAPPY NEW YEAR











My hair is also red btw.
Hi baldness!

My Mum knitted my a scarf for Christmas,

But she hasn't got shit on this guy

SRFNDSSJDFSLak

I think I have FINALLY decided on a career choice after much debate with myself and spending the past few days in solitude.
I have spent over three days working solidly on my art work and have come to terms with the fact that it is most probably the only thing I actually have SOME talent in. After going to Chiswick for 5 years my brain has died and mental capacity has become almost nil. My plans of becoming a dermatologist after getting a C in science failed, resulting in me re-choosing my subjects and taking art again even though I despise it. Psychology and English are the two subjects I am genuinely interested in however I do considerably better in both German and art which will practically get me nowhere.
I pretty much realised that my ideal job now would be something along the lines of fashion journalism, PR work or event organising, and pretty mush all of them barely involve me to be particularily academic (minus english) and more artistic and have good social skills.

I was in the shittiest mood yesterday after hours of painting and making clay carcasses (lol wut) and then didn't see James because he still had work to do. I ended up being a miserable git to him when he doesn't deserve it whatsoever as he is an amazing boyfriend and I was just being all panicky and retarded about future career options, how my life fails and my hips are widening at an increasing rate.
Bla, bla, bla, ranting on etc, but basically I have decided I want to study fashion journalism and event organising at the London College of Fashion. Ideally I would like to go to Uni and spend most of my nights drinking cheap beer and living in a squat with 25 other people whilst turning up at lectures with enough bags under my eyes to supply tescos for a month. But now instead I will most probably be surrounded by people with neon hair, who wear binliners as skirts and drink an excessive amount of coffe to stay awake whilst sewing leggins for Gareth Pugh.
I personally don't mind that, I just don't like the thought of being the only one left living at home with my parents whilst everyone is off to become doctors and lawyers on the other side of England (AND LIVING BY THEMSELVES)

Its a risky future plan as I could completely flop once I discover I actually don't have any talents and end up becoming a hobo licking pavements for nutrients which my starving artless body needs. I could also just live in a cheap flat in hackney and make sculptures of pregnant women. (Which many "artistes" seem to earn much money from successively :/ )



I could just solve the entire problem by going on Big Brother and start a relationship with a man called Kev from Manchester who enjoys "lads nights out" and has some sort of deformity. Our relationship could result in marriage and we could sell out wedding photos to OK magazine, of me and him in matching velour tracksuits. Then I could spend the rest of my life going to Chinawhite and throwing glasses of wine over members of girls aloud and falling over whilst getting into a taxi so the world catches a glimpse of my diamante thong. Once I get over the sex tape scandal I marry a football player and spend the rest of my life applying fake tan.
Story of my future life.
Oh dear.