The One Where I’m Not Really Confident:

Every adolescent regardless of gender and background, in some form or another is insecure. But recently it’s come to my attention that my insecurities are holding me back. I try to promote the idea of self love and belief, and it’s only just occurred to me that I don’t quite practice what I preach. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, you will never quite behold yourself as an ideal because you’ll always find someone or something to aspire to. Especially in a world where people like Rosie Huntington Whiteley exist, I mean seriously she’s pregnant and still has a better body than me (fml). 

I basically pretend to be Daria

I have spent longer than I remember trying to hide the things I don’t like about myself. Be it my wonky teeth, chunky thighs, granny-esque skin or my ratty hair… annnddd the list goes on. In aid of this I’ve tried to be positive, exude an overt, palpable confidence that doesn’t quite run true. To be fair I’m quite good at it, if you’re bubbly enough people will believe whatever ideal you’re selling em’. I could quite easily carry on as I am, but it’s starting to feel a bit hollow. I think I’d like the confidence I pretend to have.

In aid of this I’m making some changes. These said changes are not to further layer upon my mask of falsity, they’re to give it some validity. Healthiness and happiness seem to go hand in hand, I’m not going on an extreme diet, I still love my food don’t chu worry, but I do want to better myself. My gym regime will now hopefully be less sporadic than my posting (soz again peeps), and I’m going to try fix my tunnel vision. Rather than fixate on my flaws, in a typically British self deprecating manner, I’m gonna have a go at finding some things I like. I mean I could be better, like a lot a better, but I’m not thaaatttt bad. Sheesh, there must be some things I can pat myself on the back for. Oh and yoga! Happy people tend to do yoga so let’s see how that goes. Zen time seems like fun time.
So, if like me you want to promote a better you, the real you, then realise it’s not just something you can fix in a flash. You can have all the surgery and makeup you want but inside, you’ll probably still feel ugly and more so, empty. Don’t just look for a quick fix, look for a proper fix. I could actually be talking a load of shit, I should probably put my plan into action before I become boastful – awks. But they do say difficult roads lead to the most beautiful of destinations, hopefully that rings true. I will actually attempt to keep you beautiful humans, who for some unknown reason read my ramblings, posted on how I go. Apologies for the unfunny vent but hey, writing heals the heart. Until next time, laters lovelies.


One down, two more to go: Adulting

So I guess I’m an adult now? I have debt, overwhelming stress, and a soul destroying commute but ya know what? It’s not that bad. I haven’t posted in a very long time, I’ve always been a bit sporadic on here and for that I’m kind of sorry. But you need to get where I’m coming from, change has been upon me! From A levels to this whole undergrad situation, I’ve grown up a lot over the past year. I mean I’d still rather watch a Disney movie than have a night out on the lash, but I doubt I’ll ever outgrow that, pffttt bish please I can’t lie I don’t even want to.
Swiftly moving back onto topic, I’m coming to the close of my first year of University, mad is an understatement. Feeling bored and somewhat reflective, I’ll fill you in on what I’ve taken away from it. I still genuinely feel like a foetus walking round campus. I may of grown, but I still definitely don’t class as a grown up (please refer to my Disney preference). Nevertheless this year has breezed by, I really could not of anticipated how settled I would actually get, dare I say I like my surroundings? 

Ma homies hombre

From the age of 12 to 18 I’d basically had it sorted, same friends, same speed, give or take some internships here and there. Familiarity breeds comfort, comfort breeds laziness andddd laziness bred me. I think I genuinely over estimated how hard it would be to find friends, cos I know forrsure it has nada to with my likability, but I guess I wasn’t the only one who scared out of my mind. Legit everyone will want to chum up, cos we’re all more or less just getting shit together. So ya know don’t fret about that, you’ll find your people just hang on in there and try to start forced unrewarding conversation and eventually, you’ll get something back that you might not hate. I say this because a general aura of nicety is what helped me to find some of my now favourite people – I KNOW I’M NOT COMPLAINING FOR ONCE WTF. 

Plus, I think yet again I was wrong. I presumed all English students would either be snobs or peculiar, and while there are a fair few I’d happily dodge Obama vs Trump style, the majority are pretty normal. Then again my definition of normal falls into the nice slacker category, so that just might be a me thing. While I’ve drowned in essays I’ve left to the last minute, and cried about reading that I haven’t nor will ever do, I’m surprisingly satisfied with how this year has gone. I’m more capable than I thought, oh so cray. Shoutout to me for not being a total invalid. 

Oliver, commandeering one of my happy boxes of unnecessary shit

I don’t live in halls and at times that kind of made me sad, but then I remember, I have my own toilet and a giant bed with no risk of multiple breeds of bugs. Google silverfish then think again about uni accommodation, you are so very welcome. Not to mention all dem moneysssss, when you’re not paying over the nose for a shit box room you can ‘treat yo self’ son. I may have overdone it, pretty sure most of my loan’s gone towards ASOS deliveries and Disneyland and yet I have no regrets. 

It felt melancholic even though we were simply googling bubble tea places, awks

In closing university is scary. But, and there’s a big ol’ Nicki Minaj butttt, it will never ever be as scary as you anticipate. You will still keep the friends you want to keep, you’ll just get more who you don’t have to force to like the same shit as you (*cough* Sherlock). I love the old, but I also quite like the new. I make no promises with my posting habits, ya get what ya get I aint gon sweat. I hope that was moderately intriguing, until next time (God knows when), laters lovelies.

Ready, set, trend and follow: My Fashion Icons 2016

So if you look at the way I dress it’s not entirely coherent, I can go from grungey to classic at the drop of a hat and I quite like it that way. Fashion’s a big part of who I am, it’s my way of overt expression. A lot of my style is influenced by big players in the fashion world, so this post is a homage to some of my fashion icons. This post is basically a giant Pinterest piece, so if that’s your bag happily read on. 

First up and it’s a big one, Audrey Hepburn. Before Steve Jobs rocked the turtle neck in his own very erm ‘unique’ way, Audrey made it chic. Her infamous all black ensemble withstands the test of time, proving as fashionable now as it was in the 60s. There are so many of her looks I draw from, but it’s this one in particular which has influenced my wardrobe the most. Since seeing her in Funny face the black turtle neck has become a staple piece for me, from Autumn to Spring no doubt you’ll see me sporting one, it’s kinda my Marge Simpson green dress thing. A turtleneck, a pair of cigarette trousers, some loafers and I’m good to go.

A star some may be surprised who has also served as a somewhat muse to my style is the legendary James Dean. The original bad boy was effortlessly cool, able to switch up from biker and bomber jackets to vintage framed glasses and duster coats. There was almost an androgynous element to his style to make it wearable for men and women alike. A leather Jacket, a white t shirt paired with jeans and boots, and there you have it, one of the man’s most iconic looks, you’re a rebel with a cause… Fashion (see what I did there? Oh yeah).

It’s time to move onto some modern stars of fashion. First and foremost it’s the ‘it’ girl of the moment, Zendaya. Despite her Disney roots Zendaya’s approach to fashion is far from clean cut (don’t worry, not in a hooker chic Miley Cyrus kinda way, that’s not what I base my wardrobe on I promise), she’s not afraid to take risks, and that’s why you just gotta love her. Trends she sports range from that in the high end couture category, to athleisure and high street wear. She’s not afraid to mix and match, drawing inspo from her heritage and other cultures alike. Unlike many starlets her age she keeps it classy, sassy and is never trashy, proving herself not only a major figure in fashion, but a major role model too. 

Another one to watch is hollywood royalty Lily Rose Depp. Following in her mother’s footsteps Lily’s become head Chanel designer Karl Laggerfield’s latest muse, with that she’s taken on the task of representing Chanel while remaining fresh faced and contemporary. Similar to her farther Lily’s tastes are eclectic, from geometric prints to vintage inspired fits and cuts, she’s fluid but not drastic with her style choices. Depp dresses beyond her years (annnndd not in a Kylie Jenner way because no), displaying an elegance in her attire that’s marvelled by those of any age, cementing her firmly on my list of fashion icons. Her standout looks include her Met Ball and Chanel debuts. 

Well fashion-loving-folks I hope you enjoyed that, that’s all from me for now, so until next time, laters lovelies. 

A levels: My survival story

I’ve recently ended a major chapter in my life, at least in regards to the major-ness that is a British education, getting my A Levels. It wasn’t easy, it was almost as hard as watching Britney mime at the VMAs (after that I’m pretty sure I could lip sync Britney better than Britney), but I was able to leave sixth form with a smugness that could only be achieved by actually achieving. How? Through blood (usually that of my sister’s because If I was suffering so was she, my choice not hers), sweat (you know there’s something wrong with your fitness regime when essay writing is the most strenuous task of your day) and finally tears, lots and lots of tears (usually because I wanted to give up and sleep, I NEED MY 8 HOURS OKAY?!). If you don’t cry profusely during your A levels, if by April you haven’t shed a single tear, I can categorically tell you you’re doing something wrong. Because it’s such a daunting prospect, and a lot of students are moving on up in the next few days, I thought I’d share my story/tips/whatever genre my waffle falls into, in order to enlighten you my dear readers, on how to not fuck up your A levels. 
A levels are of course split into 2 years, I know there’s been a few changes so how relevant this will still be to the majority of you I don’t know, but I do know it’s still important to your university applications so listen up. AS levels are more important than your GCSEs, in my case they were responsible for 50% of your A level grade, as many people I know saw this year if you mess them up your overall grade will suffer. Had I revised more and not winged it as much I would’ve had an easier ride this year, when pushing yourself is admittedly hard (just picture yourself waving a middle finger at all the teachers who doubted you, because: ‘My haters are my motivators’). Even if you’re AS levels no longer effect your overall grade they are still a focal point of any Ucas application, they along with your personal statement and references are what will sway a uni into giving you an offer. If you wanna get into somewhere with a stellar reputation your AS grades don’t have to be perfect, but they should be close to the standard offer the uni makes, within one or two grades below what they want. Keeping on the topic of Ucas… don’t forget REFERENCES!!! Mine were nice because I’m naturally a fake ass bitch in class, but if you’re not be warned, shit can get real. Teachers can’t officially give you bad references per say, but they don’t have to give you false praise either, so when you’re giving your form tutor side eye and a snarl keep that firmly in the front of your mind. Think of AS levels as the foundation to the year of struggle ahead of you. 
Not-so-swiftly moving onto my year of personal hell, the year of A2… DUM DUM DUMMMM. Coming into this year I had a change of attitude, I had already proved myself but as always there was room for improvement. Predicted grades are not a given, that 1 grade up thing? Yeah that’s not actually a thing, if your teachers think you don’t want it they won’t predict it. So in order to make sure you get what you want be sure to start the year off as a brown nose, talk to them on a personal level (majorly awkward but it must be done), let them know the predictions you need for your university, there’s no harm in being direct; particularly when it fizzles down to something so important. If they’re still not wiling then make a plan of action, ask what you can do to change their mind – because they can’t really say no to something like that. A little bit of work in September goes a long way in November when your application’s being sent off, believe me gurl (not being sexist, it just sounds more sassy that way). Personal statements! You ideally want yours entirely done (don’t forget time for editing, you’ll be doing a lot of it) by the very start of October, mid September if you’re going for Oxbridge. Ask any and every relevant teacher to read through it, mine caused a clash of the teachers which left me with two final versions, this may sound slightly superficial and harsh but trust whichever of those teachers went to the better university, if they got themselves in then their input should be a step towards getting you in. 
Finally this is a given, you better work bitch (a lot more Britney in this post then I originally intended). I probably shouldn’t say this, and if your teachers/parents asked who gave you this idea don’t quote me on it, but despite what they’ll tell you, granting yourself unofficial study leave is your best option. Come May of your final year you should know how to write an essay, if not then stop reading this post and reevaluate some things cos you aint my problem son; taking that as a given your content will be done and class will now become a cycle of revision sessions. This piece of advice really depends what type of learner you are but in my case anyway, drawing a mindmap with my teacher doesn’t do much for me, I fly solo. I usually give myself this ‘unofficial study leave’ the 3 weeks or so before my first exam, at this point you’re already entered in for it and your uni has already accepted you, so attendance wise you really don’t need to give a shit and your school probably won’t either. If like me you had to memorise a shit load of facts that you’ll never again use in life, attempt to rope in a family member, preferably a sibling to spend their evenings testing you, that’s what the final hour of your revision should entail – forced family bonding. 

Exam season is your final hurdle, you will feel like there’s no point because it’s an endless cycle of derivative and exhausting tests which merely measure your ability to cram, but make no mistake, it matters. If you try and you don’t succeed, well at least you tried. I was particularly unlucky this year, I got cellulitis (a nasty skin infection which hurts like hell) in both my legs a couple days before my first exam, I was bleeding and I couldn’t walk at all, think of me as a young weepy Bambi (soz for the sad image but true story bro), despite this I refused to stop revising. When it boiled down to it I knew it had to be done regardless. Come the day of my exam, with my sister acting as my crutch I made my triumphant return to school (okay not so triumphant I was bleeding and crying, but still) and after a huuuuggggeee fight with my teachers, because apparently about 80% of them felt the need to be all up in my business at that given time, my head of year forced me to skip it and head to hospital instead. He wasn’t able to give me any assurances that the exam board would okay it, he just promised that as I was a good student, who really wanted to sit their exam (a stupid amount) to do his very best to sort it. By the start of my exam season I felt defeated, after a day off and some KFC (food of champions) I got back to it, no matter what I continued to try because that’s all anyone can ask of you. Come results day I found it did, the exam I missed thanks to my surprisingly high mock grade (yup they actually matter now too) and my amazeballs head of year, became an A and the other exams I did, which I never stopped working for, were also As (that was soley down to me cos I’m awesome okay). For the first time in my life I dedicated myself to my studies, and for the first time in my life I relished in how great that felt. You will encounter hurdles, but I have no doubt that you’ll get what you put in. I don’t know how deep that sounded so I’m gonna pause it there.

Good Luck to everything who’s starting or continuing their A levels. To all of you who like me can now ‘bye Felicia’ that shit, we made it. Until next time, laters lovelies. 

Guess who’s back?

Back again, tell a friend, guess who’s back, gues back, guess who’s baaaackkk. If you weren’t reading that in Eminem’s voice the joke was pretty much lost on you, if so I sorely apologise. But disregarding my joke which may or may not have fallen flat…I’m back! I’ve finished my A levels, how that’ll go we’ll just have to find that out in August, but hey ho! I’m a free woman! Meaning I can spend my very British summer (by British I’m referring to rain filled and dire) connecting with you lovely people who for some reason don’t mind listening to me waffle on, forrealsy I’ve been so neurotic lately I think people have innately tuned me out, so it’ll be nice to be listened to (more fittingly read) again. Where do we start? I’ve been off the grid this year procrastinating away, aside from the whole becoming an adult, ending my secondary school education chapter and awaiting the book of university (presuming I haven’t failed and won’t need to become homeless or a stripper, or a homeless stripper), you haven’t actually missed that much. My most noteworthy achievement is that I have sadly curbed my spending habbits lately, I’m pretty sure the man who delivers my clothes, let’s call him ‘Greg’, that’s probably not his name but it feels right, has forgotten me by now and moved on to other shoppers, but in the name of this blog (and my wardrobe, mainly my wardrobe) I will be revisiting online retailers and posting about it! If my mum asks I will most certainly blame you guys, peer pressure is still a thing so she’d believe it. I know what you’re thinking I’m 18 now, I can do what I want, well not when I’m financially dependent I can’t; so needs must and all. Soz about scapegoatting you. But there will be some fashion related posts in the very near future to compensate you, presuming you care whatsoever, it also gives me a good reason to take pictures of myself wearing pretty clothes, which I’m sure 90% of the time is why girls become bloggers. It’s why this girl did anyway *LOL* no, no, kidding, writing with or without clothes (not in that sense pervs, cleanse your mind) I still love doing it, and of course you guys.

I also have, which is what I hold resoonsible for any of this blog’s success, a shit load of awkward war stories to enlighten you all with, and yes I know you’re wondering, some do include me crying Kim K style. On top of those I’ll being adding in some reviews of anything and everything, including niche bars that I’m forcing my friends to try out, because I’m not mainstream like that, oh and because did I mention? I’M 18 NOW BIATCHES! Hence my blog, much like me, has grown up, only a minor bit though, I’m still as naieve as a foetus. Lovely imagery, you’re welcome, that’s what an A level in English Lit gets you, AQA yay you. 

Unlike Blac Chyna and Rob Kardashian, I wanted to take our relationship slowly by reintroducing myself with this post. I know my absence hurt you all, it better of otherwise I’m gonna assume you’re a sociopath and nobody wants that, but I’m back from now onwards, so prepare for…wait for it… a minimum of 1 weekly post. You’re welcome, much like Jesus I’m all about the sacrafices. This time when I say ‘laters’, I’m refering to sometime soon so do keep up with me, on that note, laters lovelies!

Children of divorce


The children of divorced parents can be a funny bunch. I know this because I am one, so is my sister, and so are a few of my closest friends. We’re more common in current society, but some still stereotype us as needy, spoilt, kids with daddy issues. So I’m gonna set the record straight by acknowledging a few of the traits shared by, the children of divorced parents.

We’re realistic, not pessimistic, please get it right there’s a big difference. We acknowledge that things change because we’ve seen it first hand, so when people go throwing words like forever around, we like to remind them to keep it real. There’s absolutely nothing wrong, or sombre, about that. Things don’t last forever, not even love, avoid using words so trivially if you can’t actually comprehend their meaning, it’s not a downer it’s a fact.

We don’t hate our parents. In most cases the respect we have for our parents, for actually having the ability to call it quits, far outweighs any resentment harboured for the breakage of our family union. We’re not all out there rebelling, some of us, like me, are actually really big mummy’s girls who prefer to make their parents proud as opposed to pissed. That’s the truth, apologies if it’s boring.

We’re not spoilt. The whole 2 Christmases thing, isn’t actually a thing; maybe for the first couple of years, but parents are just people, and they too get lazy. The amount of spoiling we get may slightly exceed (not in all cases) that of kids in nuclear families (using my sociology terminology, oh yeah), but by all means the extra present here and there, doesn’t quite make up for all the time, and memories you miss out on. In actuality kids with both parents, are more spoilt in the long run, emotionally that is, plus 2 incomes? Just saying bro.

Now you’re somewhat educated on what a divorcees kid is like. Hope you enjoyed that, until next time, laters lovelies!

How to make Dolma:

Dolma is a dish my Mediterranean family have made for a very long time, and it’s delicious. It is essentially vine (and sometimes onions/peppers/cabbage) leaves stuffed with a tomatoey, mince meat filling. They take a while to prepare but boy oh boy if you get it right I can promise you a tantalising, Turkish party in your mouth, so I’m gonna share the love and fill you guys in on my super secret family recipe.

You will need:
Vine leaves
Around a pound of mince meat (beef)
Olive oil
Tomato Puree
2 Lemons
Standard long grain white rice
1 tin of chopped tomatoes
3 onions

1- Wash and boil your vine leaves. This should soften them so they’re easy to fold and fill.

2- Next it’s time to make the filling! Take a pound of mince meat and place it into a large mixing bowl. Then, dice, as finely as you can 3 onions and add them into to the bowl. Take 3 table spoons of tomato puree add it in. Juice 1 whole lemon and pour it into the mixture. Following this add a generous sprinkling of salt and pepper, 6 table spoons of olive oil and a handful of chopped parsley. Lastly take a tin of chopped tomatoes and blend it so it’s completely liquidised and add the final ingredient in to your filling. Then you guessed it…mix it all together.


3- Now it’s the trickier, more time consuming part, making the actual dolmas, dum dum dum. If the leaves are hard boil them to loosen them up, after that drain the bowl and start using them. Lay your leaf flat and upright with the spine facing outwards, then use your hands to fork out a portion of meat. Place the meat near the bottom of the leaf and spread it out into a sausage shape (don’t put too much of the filling in otherwise you may be unable to properly wrap the dolma, and it could explode whilst cooking if too full!). Start by taking the leaves from the bottom and wrapping it over once, then take each side of the leaf and close your dolma by folding them inwards, after that just roll upwards until there’s no more leaf left to roll, simple.


This is what your precooked rolled up dolma should resemble

4-  Now onto the simplest part of this meal, actually cooking the dolma. Take a large pot and use any extra vine or cabbage leaves to cover the bottom of the pot to prevent the dolma from burning. Then begin to gently stack them in the pot, once you’ve done that cover your dolma in boiled water, about a mug full. Finally add a table spoon of tomato puree, drizzle olive oil over your dolma, and take a small tea plate to press down on top of the dolma to prevent breakage.


Awkward moment when I started eating and forgot to take a photo...I remember though...eventually

5- You’re nearly finished, this next part is as basic as you can get. Place the pot on a low simmer for 50/60 minutes and then you’re finished. Once you take them off you’re done! Little tip add either greek yoghurt or more lemon (depending on your preference) to give the dolma even more flavour.


Your plate should be as empty as this afterwards!

Well that was a bit different, but hopefully somewhat interesting/helpful to you all. If you liked this post let me know and I may share some more family recipes! Until next time, laters lovelies.

Another 10 facts about yours truly…

As I’m such an interesting person (sarcasm intended) I thought I’d follow my little routine of every so often, giving you 10 exclusive facts about me. Because seriously, who wouldn’t wanna know more about the amazing author of this blog? I know let the awesomeness sink in, here we go yet again…

1- I have never had my ears pierced, and it’s probably not gonna happen. I hate needles, it’s a deep haunting hatred, so why on earth would I subject myself to an ear stabbing just to hang shiny things from it? I think not.


2- I’m gradually accepting the fact that I will not win the lottery and live like a Kardashian. Sad times, #notblessed.

3- I lack a sense of direction. Were it not for google maps I would probably be living the life of a homeless person as I’d never find my way back home, and I’m just far too awkward to ask anyone for directions; but we all are, it’s the 21st century everyone avoids verbal communication at all costs, so really you can’t blame me, it’s society’s fault.


4- I swear like a sailor. I’m pretty sure it relates to my verbal diarrhea. Not my most appealing trait.

5- I find it extremely difficult to say no to sales people on the street. It’s not because I particularly want or care about what they’re selling me, I just feel super guilty that their job keeps them stuck out on the street and to a degree, begging, so walking off makes me feel an itsy bit bitchy, I’m all heart I know.

6- My wardrobe is far too eclectic for my own good, it’s a mish mash of preppy, retro, sophisticated and grungy clothing. I just can’t decide on a look that I prefer, the struggle is oh so real.


7- I attempted to read the unfathomably  over hyped ‘the fault in our stars’ and I hated it. So many problems. John Green’s awesome, that book? Not so much. It glamourises cancer and is such a cliche that it makes me want to punch myself, seriously he carries cigarettes around to be ironic? Someone has more money than sense, soz not soz Gus.

8- I’m nearly 18 yet I still loathe crossing busy roads. I literally sprint across, which looks sort of like an injured pigeon, I knew I should of actually done P.E, because being run over is no joke and slow people = dead people.

9- I hate my forehead. It’s an unsightly feature, thank God for fringes.


10- I have a fear of robots. Like the human looking ones in that new programme which is unsurprisingly called ‘Humans’ I mean has noone ever seen the terminator? IT DOESN’T END WELL! ROBOTS AREN’T NICE! Except R-2 D-2, he’s pretty chill.

And there you have it, the latest edition in my ’10 facts’ series. In case you missed any of my previous ’10 facts’ posts, and you actually care, feel free to browse through them on my blog. Until next time, laters lovelies.

Just A Few Prom Tips


It’s now that stressful time of year when people are moving on from the struggle of exams to the more vapid  (though equally important, duh) struggle of getting ready for prom, and I’m so fricking jealous. I had mine last year and it was pretty good, but the exciting run up filled with endless makeup and hair trials and shopping sprees was the shit. So for all you lucky people anticipating prom, I’m gonna give you a recap of what my  experience taught me, because I could’ve done with a few tips beforehand, and mainly because I’m in a reminiscent mood.


Deciding on a look, and particularly a dress, is a pivotal point, prom is especially competitive for girls, but it doesn’t need to be stupidly expensive. Realistically you’re not going to wear most of the ‘ott’ dresses more than once, and they cost a whole lot of mullah, but despite popular belief you don’t need to break the bank to look good. I speak from first hand experience, I had the option of going big or going reasonable, and luckily my guilty cost efficient conscience pointed me the right way, and my dress in my opinion anyway, though less expensive than some was still great, and in reflection a lot of the cheaper high street dresses actually ended up looking better than some of the more out there boutique ones so it was a win win. But at the end of the day a dress is a personal choice so if you want to and can spend more do whatever makes you feel beautiful, it’s your prom to enjoy. Shoe wise if your dress is long you won’t really see much so don’t stress about an intricate stilleto just try and go for something like a wedge/block heel, that way you won’t walk around like you have a limp; plus if you’re a bambi type like me don’t push your luck, I nearly died multiple times on prom due to shoe related incidents (thank you Myriam for both saving my life and rescuing me from the walk of shame whilst stuck on the stairs).


Surprisingly most of my budget was spent on makeup, it’s important to pick a look after you’ve chosen your dress, because a clash is never classy. To do this I advise you give yourself a few weeks in advance to both youtube/google hair and makeup tutorials that suit you, also if you have a mum/sister/friend who can help you get ready I urge you to utilise them, thankfully my sister was there to help me go from beast to beauty, thank christ for that. Now here’s an important tip so take note it’s  something I wish I had the common sense to think of before my prom but luckily my friend did for me, boob tape! That sounds a bit wrong so let me expand, if you have a slightly cleavagey dress whilst having a bigger bust it’s a must to purchase some dress tape, that way you can relax without having to constantly hoist your dress up to avoid embarassment (another thank you this time to Sophie, for coming prepared and saving me from a nip slip Nicki Minaj/Madonna/most female divas moment).


Transportation is also key, luckily for me my friend’s grandad works in a minicab company so we were pretty much sorted, we also had my other friend’s dad to get us back so it was all fairly chilled. Some people there weren’t as prepared as us and had difficulty getting back, so don’t neglect the travel arrangements they’re just as important as the glitzy stuff. Also food, usually it’s my number one priority but sadly (and stupidly) I skipped eating on the day of prom to avoid looking bloated, considering my dress was skin tight it wouldn’t of been very forgiving. But it was a mistake because although I enjoyed prom, my mind (and many of the girls’ at prom) wondered off to raiding the fridge at home or grabbing a greasy takeaway afterwards, so it did slightly detract from the fun, learn from my mistake and EAT!


Last but not least when you get to prom have fun. That’s the one thing I took from the night because although we all have different friendship circles, we all had fun together. What’s the point of it all if you don’t? Hopefully that helped all you pre-prom planners, until next time, laters lovelies.


How to: identify a hipster


Okay so recently, whilst at a university  taster day, I came across a couple of hipsters and it came to my attention that prior to this I had never actually met one before. I mean I thought I had, but nope these two really fulfilled the piss takingly ridiculous stereotype. So now since I’m an expert on the topic *insert sarcastic cringe * I thought I’d lend you all my expertise and help you learn how to properly identify a hipster. Here are just a few of the indicators I picked up on:

HE/SHE HATES ANYTHING THAT IS MODERATELY POPULAR: Yes you see a major flaw of this subculture is that hipsters appear to dislike things (such as T.V shows, music etc) due to their popularity. Regardless of content, however good it may be, they will reject things because quite frankly, it’s the ‘cool’ thing to do…duuuh.

THEY DRESS LIKE 90S REJECTS: Because everybody knows the 90s is the most hip & misunderstood era so that obvy translated to the fashion trends, thus hipsters flock round 90s cast offs like flies around a turd.

HIPSTER IDEOLOGY: You would never catch a hipster in a venue such as Mcdonalds, unless it’s to take an ironic instagram post which scolds big corporations all while using a Sony phone, because apparently as Sony isn’t as popular as Apple it isn’t classed as a big corporation (I shit you not that is a genuine quote from a real life hipster). Or why bike while you can unicycle? Or take a digitalised photo when you can use a camera that is harder to use and no longer in production for that very reason? Welcome to the hypocrisy and ignorance of hipster ideology.


And that is how I identify hipsters. So hopefully you enjoyed that! Until next time, laters lovelies.