A travel and style blog

Confessions No.1 - A New Monthly Series

Hello pals! How's tricks? I've been trying to think of something that could be a bit of a regular feature on here. A series of some sort that I could make a monthly fixture and I think I've decided on a confessional. It'll be a chatty post on whatever springs to mind that may bring on hot sweats (mine that is) but will hopefully provide you with five or ten minutes of entertainment. Will it be worth the oversharing? We'll see.

Not All White On The Night

I always have a little note pad with me for jotting down any ideas or musings that might one day see the light of a blog post. I find it helps to keep ideas flowing and I enjoy scribbling away in my own world instead of scouring t'internet at the risk of slipping into comparison mode. We all know where that ends up. 

So I was quite happy earlier this week penning a few absolute corkers about white jeans and why I'd never owned a pair before. There was a hilarious comparison to Razorlight's Johnny Borrell and a side splitting reflection on an open invitation for your period to start.

Friends on Film

Last week two of my close friends, Sarah and Alicia, came round for a long overdue night of friends, fizz and a look at what the future holds (we did tarot card readings huddled in front of the log burner). We started the night sipping champagne from vintage champagne saucers with the soothing tones of James Blake playing while we set to catching up. Fast forward to 3:00am and James Blake's been replaced by Haddaway What is Love, I've changed my lower half only into pyjamas, one of us is asleep sitting up and none of us can remember what the tarot cards said.

Never Wish Your Time Away - Unless It's January

Well pals, lets give ourselves a pat on the back, we've made it. January is D.O.N.E 

I know you really shouldn't wish your time away but I just can't help counting down the days until January is behind us. It's all the blues propaganda keeping me on my toes. The fear mongering that I might plummet into a bout of post festive depression at any unsuspecting moment. Like everyones Mum in the run up to the Millennium, I've been anticipating disaster, but without the need to stock pile tins and loo rolls.
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