LONG SLEEVED SMOCK

Retarded Dog

2011-08-26T19:25:00.001+01:00

Retarded Dog is a retarded dog yapping. I'm shocked and disgusted at the fact I watched it 6 times in a row, and now as I type I have it playing in the background.

I find animals pointless and unnecessary, but if I were to kill all animals I would keep Retarded Dog alive so that it could perform to me privately. Along with this baby that farted at the same time it sneezed.

Watch it all then go back and replay 0:20 at least 14 times.

Backtracking

2011-08-21T15:43:00.001+01:00

I happened to be in the room while Celebrity Big Brother was on last night, and I may have accidentally absorbed some of its content. Now I feel bad about what I said about Amy Childs, because she seemed genuinely nice, and there was evidence that her vocabulary had expanded somewhat. I'm going to vote for her to win if she ever gets in the final, as an apology. And she's the only non-blonde female in there.
The gypsy wedding man, although not a celebrity whatsoever, provides huge amounts of entertainment - purely because I can't understand a word he's saying. Normally when I say I can't understand regional accents, it's because I'm being an arrogant middle class person. But this time I genuinely didn't even realise he was talking. I thought he was barking. I like to watch him blunder around, probably still trying to work out why he's there and how he got there. I didn't enjoy Sally Bercow's patronising conversation with him, in which she was being all respectful and Labour Party. It made me want to punch her, place her in a gypsy occupied area, and watch her try to navigate around all the broken glass as the gypsy children steal her shoes and money. I'm not saying all gypsies are like this, but I haven't seen or heard of any that aren't.

Just subscribed to my own blog

2011-08-20T14:44:00.000+01:00

I'm going to receive an email whenever I update it.

Amy Childs!?!??!?!??!?!?!!?!?!

2011-08-20T14:39:00.000+01:00

I'm in Brighton again so I'm giving it another chance. Maybe this time it can make me indie. I haven't gone out yet though: I arrived last night, and all I've done so far is watch The Inbetweeners top 10 moments. I've realised that The Inbetweeners is probably the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life.

The top 10 moments program was good, but ruined by the appearance of terrible celebrities voicing their uninteresting opinions on characters and scenes. Two girls from The Saturdays occasionally chipped in and tried to be funny, but they failed because they are women. Some ridiculous chavs from Geordie Shore said some things but the accents prevented me from understanding, which was probably best. Their fatness and orangeness succeeded in offending me though.
They also had Amy Childs on there. Before, I'd only ever seen her in photographs in magazines or online. She seemed like a standard reality show failure of a human, fitting in brilliantly with the general ambience of The Only Way is Essex. I've never had the misfortune to actually see the show, except when I went to visit my gran at a nursing home and it seemed to be permanently on TV (the old people didn't mind or realise because they were slumped and hardly alive). So I hadn't quite realised the extent of human stupidity.
After watching her on this Inbetweeners thing, I look at the world with new, less hopeful eyes. The general format of her comments was this: describe the scene, say what she would be like if it happened to her, make some vacuous exclamations, repeat herself a few times, and finish with more exclamations. To her credit, she managed all this with a vocabulary of about 4 words, one of which was 'like'. Everything she said was the opposite of funny, but I couldn't even laugh at this fact because like the Geordie girls, she too was orange. I'm not even sure if she knew The Inbetweeners wasn't real. I don't think she knew what it was or why she was there. And one of the hairs of her fringe had come loose, infuriatingly.

Oh no

2011-08-10T00:30:00.002+01:00

Every CCTV screenshot has about 7 logos in it. This rioting is such a bad advert for Adidas.

Food

2011-08-02T16:59:00.000+01:00

I've decided to become fat because I've discovered the world's best food apart from the Pizza Hut cookie dough dessert.

http://smittenkitchen.com/2006/11/blondies-for-a-blondie/

They are like brownies but less chocolatey and more godlike. I had 5 in one go.

I used my camera

2011-07-28T11:06:00.000+01:00

Did not know that I had a double chin.

Other people at bookshops

2011-07-27T17:39:00.003+01:00

I hate other people at book shops. They don't do anything wrong, they just exist inconveniently. Yesterday I went to Waterstones primarily to ask about jobs, but ended up browsing for some nice arrogant books. Every time I started scanning along the shelves, some pleb would come drifting towards me, also scanning the shelves. There would be a moment of distress as they came ever closer, in which I would decide whether to give way or fight to the death with the pleb. Normally I would just change direction and pretend to stare meaningfully at some books I had already seen, for the purpose of avoiding the pleb. While I regarded these books I would want them to die. They were occupying my shelf.
Sometimes they come in groups. This is worse. They generally disperse, reconvening every so often in order to block off a section of the store and communicate loudly with each other.
There was this one particular pleb that would not move from the graphic novels section. Obviously I have no interest in the graphic novels section, but it was about 2 metres away from the classic literature section (I generally like to have a 3 metre radius separating me from the others). Every time I did a circuit of the store to check if the pleb had moved, he was still there.

Looking back, I'm quite grateful to that stubborn pleb and his uncommonly fervent interest in graphic novels. He was an excellent deterrent from the small selection of shit that makes up the classic literature section. Although I feel like a literary god when I read a 'critically acclaimed cult classic', it's a challenge to get through one without committing suicide. I end up becoming absorbed by the front/back cover, purely because they provide some respite from the badly written deluge of things that aren't interesting. Anything over 100 years old is unreadable, and Jane Austen is particularly bad.

Lottery winners

2011-07-15T16:15:00.003+01:00

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-14161661

The £161m lottery winners are fat.

They are going to spend it all on sweets. This saddens me.

Old people

2011-07-04T17:48:00.000+01:00

I was just leaving the rose gardens the other day when I saw these two walking in through the entrance. I had my camera on me so I took a spycam photo.

I admire these ladies for the sheer complexity of planning they must have done before leaving the (nursing?) home. They have made sure that they look completely different in every way. Quite clearly there has been some collaboration on choice of outfit: one wears a blue jumper and a cream skirt, while the other wears a cream jumper and a blue skirt. If I am not mistaken, the lady on the right's skirt is shorter and more raunchy, marking her out as being the bolder of the two. The left wears sandals, while the other has made a more sensible decision with loafers as the weather was not wholly clement. Their sun hats, while seemingly similar, are very different in design. The first lady's trolley is a four wheeler, while the other only has three wheels.

They're pretty much identical.

Brighton malfunctioned

2011-05-29T22:01:00.000+01:00

I've just come back from the centre of the indie universe. I was surrounded by vintage, retro, alternative, and gay. I practically couldn't move without seeing an undercut or an American football jacket or a shirt buttoned all the way up. Every other shop sold vintage Levis denim jackets or vomity beaded crop tops. There were people doing art in cafés. Tiny art galleries which actually had people in. Incense. We passed some spray painted cars hanging up on a washing line with giant clothes pegs.

I bought a pen from Jack Wills.

Insidious

2011-05-13T22:38:00.001+01:00

I just saw Insidious and I'm really confused.

During the film watching process I was sprawled across 12 seats, clinging on to everyone with fear. I had a shirt over my head and eyes, and I was covering my ears. I practically didn't watch it.

When I got out the cinema I suddenly realised it wasn't even scary. Even now, looking back, I can't remember exactly what made me act like such a pathetic child. I feel like I was manipulated into thinking it was scary. In reality, it was a children's film.

The whole film was so filled with 8 minute pauses that only 2 things actually happened in it. On top of this, I was confused by the addition of two comical characters that seemed to serve no purpose but to be comical, trivialising all the horror. Obviously I was grateful at the time, as they saved me bricking myself.

I liked the music though. It was like amped up horror film music on steroids. It was violently creepy.

On the whole, Insidious contained everything it was supposed to: bloody handprints, superfluous Victorian children, inexplicable banging sounds, and laughing children. It also had an eponymously 'insidious' demon who was definitely paedophilic.

whoops

2011-04-30T17:45:00.000+01:00

I accidentally got slightly patriotic at the royal wedding yesterday, I have no idea where that came from.

Land of Deutsche

2011-04-26T11:24:00.001+01:00

Never again am I going to a country where I can't speak the language. German is so completely opposite to any language I have ever studied that I literally had no hope. Every time I tried to order some currywurst mit brot I would blindly flail around in pseudo-German (dankers) before shamefully resorting to English, which of course they could all speak. I felt like a complete ignorant tourist.

On the odd occasion where the Germans weren't more apt at English than I am, communication fail ensued. Replying 'no thanks' to 'where are you from?' for example.

Greenpeace is a little bitch

2011-03-23T19:43:00.001Z

I attempted to do my physics on whether nuclear power is a good way to reduce CO2 emissions. But something strange happened and it turned into a rant about Greenpeace.

I hate Greenpeace.

I've already mentioned how much I hate people who wear vegetarian shoes and buy organic and turn off the lights all the time. But I had only assumed that I disliked them. Then I found myself on the Greenpeace website and realised that I do actually hate environmentalists, loads.
Things started to go wrong when I was met by a little pop-up shouting quietly about some fisherman killing sharks and dolphins and other pretty marine creatures. They were asking me for my personal details. So after the massive effort it took to close the pop-up, I went on the page about nuclear power.
Obviously, they'd written a cute little essay on the evils of nuclear power and how it will 'result in a Chernobyl-scale accident once every decade.' Already I am hugely pissed off at their general ignorance.
Then I noticed that they had a quote from Patrick Moore in 1976, on how nuclear power is 'criminal' and 'dangerous'. On further research, I realised that Patrick Moore used to speak out against nuclear power, but now he is a supporter. But obviously Greenpeace won't remove the now-redundant quote from the page because they don't really care about nuclear power, they just want to campaign and complain about something.
I tentatively clicked on the 'Donate' page and was fairly irritated at the fact that the lowest suggested amount was $40. Then came the worst thing imaginable. The back button wouldn't work. I was trapped, with no choice but to donate. So I donated $40.

Prom

2011-03-21T20:45:00.000Z

Prom's coming up. So I have my acrylics tomorrow, my dress alterations on Wednesday just before my full body wax, my eyelash extensions the day after, my spray tan in the evening and my teeth whitening appointment in the morning. Then I have my hair and makeup appointment followed by my pedicure.
Then I will sit in a tacky desperate hotel suite for 3 hours eating a chicken meal with tomato salsa followed by the height of class: profiteroles. I will look at the balloons. I will buy a soft drink at the bar. I will dance alone on the embarrassing dancefloor while the middle aged depressed DJ plays S-Club 7 and 8.
I'm going to make a Microsoft Word document of my favourite celebrity hairstyles, cropped and resized and annotated with Comic Sans. I will make a header and footer - 'My Prom Hairstyles' and 'By Fay Davies 23/03/11'. I will laminate it and take to the hairdresser's so she does my hair properly and makes me look like Megan Fox.

Christ I'm indie

2011-03-13T17:00:00.001Z

Happy owner of a sandwich toaster

2011-03-06T11:38:00.000Z

A Spanish town has decided to reintroduce the peseta to boost the economy. This is from a BBC news article:

'One man visited the local hardware store this week with a 10,000-peseta note he had found at home, and had no idea what to do with.

He is now the happy owner of a sandwich toaster.'

Cr*p

2011-03-01T19:18:00.001Z

Today I was surprised and humbled to find out that I can be held in citizen's arrest if I say 'Blimey' on the street. It is a shortened version of 'Blind me God' or something similar. Thus blasphemy.
So the next time I hear anyone say 'Crikey' (Christ), 'Oh my goodness' (nearly using the Lord's name in vain), 'Darn' (Damnation), 'Heck' (Hell), 'Cripes' (again, Christ), or 'Fuck', I will rugby tackle them and forcibly pin them down to the ground, while I wait for the police to arrive. When they do, I don't doubt that they will be eternally grateful to me. Doing my duty, keeping dangerous criminals off the streets.
Oh it turns out the blasphemy laws were abolished in 2008. So I won't be able to carry out my holy calling and protect our streets from mindless, savage criminals.

I was right

2011-02-27T01:00:00.000Z

What did I tell you? Ages ago in that post about why there are such skinny models? The fact that most fashion designers are gay and thus find the male form more beautiful, hence the amount of thin, shapeless women on the catwalk.
Well I was obviously right as the trend has just got slightly more extreme. Rather than have women starved into boyhood walk the catwalk, they've cut corners slightly. This article demonstrates it. A male model, modelling womanswear. He is the supermodel ideal, and just so happens to be a man.

Cats

2011-02-16T17:16:00.001Z

Following the recent reviewer stance I seem to have adopted, I have decided to do a review of household cats. I do not have extensive personal experience of cats, as I have never owned one. However, I've met enough cats in my time to know that they are not fantastic mammals like us humans.
The first thing that makes me slightly sceptical of the whole point of cats is that they can't hold a conversation. They can't even talk or do sign language. For this reason, their company is not adequate or fulfilling. Some people, namely cat owners, have resigned themselves to this fact and decided to indulge in a cat anyway, but I could never compromise.
Following on from this, their intellect simply isn't on the same level as humans. So not only can they not talk, but they can't even listen, sympathise, or debate. I'm struggling to think what cats actually can do.
Another unfortunate defect of cats is that they're never actually there. Houses are like an occasional feeding and crapping place, and 90% of the time they are outside parading the streets, being sluts.
Physically, cats are hugely deficient. They might appear vaguely 'cuddly', but this is not in fact the case. Every time I have stepped out of my comfort zone and attempted to stroke a cat, either it slinks away or extends its claws like a little bitch. When I do manage to get a stroke in, I am often disappointed by the disgusting protuding spine. When I caress an animal, I do not expect to have to encounter all the knobs of its back bone. And that purr they do makes me feel like some sort of cat-pervert. Also, sometimes they try and wipe eye-gunge on you.

Nails, Misfits, Skins, Camera

2011-02-12T18:49:00.001Z

I've created a new trend. To paint the nails of only one hand. The basic principle is that you're too cool and nonchalant to paint the nails of the other hand. You just threw on some nail polish, did some other cool indie stuff, forgot about the other hand, walked out the house without having showered for 6 weeks.
Why didn't anyone tell me Misfits was so good? Yesterday I watched 6 episodes in a row on Youtube, and I was nearly dead from inaction at the end of it. Although some may say he is arrogant in person, Robert Sheehan (who plays Nathan) completely makes it. It would be nothing without him. I'm not even sure if he's a good actor or he's just playing himself, but he makes the other characters look wooden.
Compared to Misfits, Skins is a pile of embarrassing dung. I haven't even watched the latest episode. At some point in the next few days I will probably become bored enough to watch it, but I can guarantee it will be a painful 45 minutes.
Currently I don't have a camera. It's a slight anticlimax, considering the 14 or so excited posts before its arrival. The repair people will eventually get round to sorting out the incredibly bitchy line of pixels that dares to utterly demolish and ruin every picture, and I might even get it back in time for 'Formal Party'.

I have been raped by Benefit

2011-02-06T19:31:00.001Z

Yesterday I went all the way up to Chichester for a Benefit makeover at House of Fraser. The 'make-up artist', who had a questionably heavy layer of foundation on herself, slapped eight different products on my face. For instance, a tinted moisturiser which she praised and advertised for three long minutes while she wrecklessly applied it even though I had told her I already had it. Then she applied seven times too much primer. She even made me smell it so I could agree that it smelt like raspberry. Then, for fun, she decided to mix the moisturiser and primer together and build up another inch on my skin. Aftwerwards came an onslaught of blusher, eyeliner, two cream eyeshadows, concealer and lipgloss. When she had finished she showed me the mirror, and I made appreciative noises while she looked at me expectantly and asked 'So what would you like out of these products I have used on you?' I recalled that I only had £40 in my account that I would quite like to save. But when I walked out the shop I had five products in my bag and two raffle tickets to win some Calvin Klein underwear. I have no idea what happened. It was so confusing and terrifying. I don't even need primer. What the hell even is primer? And I think I might have bought that tinted moisturiser I already have. And at least two different forms of wrinkle fillers, and shoes.

SPOILER ALERT Black Swan

2011-02-01T14:23:00.000Z

She dies at the end.
I have just done most people a massive favour, because Black Swan is a sickening and traumatic potassium cyanide of a film. Don't watch it. For those of you that enjoy the sight of raw skin being peeled off a finger, then I am very sorry and feel shameful and malicious. I also suggest that you find help immediately as you are psychopathic, sadistic and terrifying.
After watching the film, I walked out the cinema in a disturbed trance. But I wasn't even disturbed. I was numb. Slowly, disgust crept over me. It wasn't till I had calmly and silently eaten my pizza in Pizza Express that it came back to me. All the horrifying details.
I'm not really sure whether Black Swan is about discovering your darker side, breaking free from the hold of an obsessive mother, exploring your sexuality, or a dangerous struggle for perfection. It is all of these, yet nothing of these.
The acting is good, I think, but I was too distracted by the frequent gore. Gruesome acts such as retracting a feather from a bloody scratch and unsticking webbed toes. The most excruciating moment was the overzealous nail cutting.
It was a weird film. Oh and there was ballet in it too; quite a lot of ballet. But it was overshadowed by pretty much everything else

Skins

2011-01-29T22:38:00.000Z

I am writing this review with absolutely no personal bias. The fact that the new lead character beat me to the role of Lyra in the Golden Compass has absolutely no bearing on the opinions and viewpoints you are about to hear.
So I opened up Skins Series 5 Episode 1 on 4OD, Youtube. I had to wait for a few adverts, but I was prepared to suffer because I like Skins. I was very pleased that the opening had remained largely unchanged because it is a defining aspect of Skins and is truly representative of its vaguely depressing, occasionally light-hearted and sometimes even surreal style. I don't give a huge shit about the opening but I thought I should start my review with some pretense of wisdom and taste.
Onto the story. In a decreasingly subtle and and ever typical Skins fashion, the episode starts with a main character getting ready for college. Franky is an androgenous looking girl who dresses as a clown nearly. I will not judge her acting yet, as all she has done is looked moody and performed basic actions such as putting on trousers.
The climax of the episode comes questionably early. The dressing is complete, and she now proceeds to leave the her house. Following her down the stairs, we get the impression that she has just moved here, and can only assume that she is a 'new girl'. Then, as she reaches and opens the door, two males wave her goodbye, giving inane and generic 'new college' advice. Franky has stepped outside. She is on the threshold between the safety of home and the unfamiliar, endlessly threatening realm of 'new college.' Now she says it - 'Bye Dads.' Sweet Christ. She has two dads. What a bountiful resource for exploration of a character's home life and, no doubt, a significant factor in storyline to come.
After that life changing bombshell it goes downhill from there. There were about forty minutes left, all of which were bland, awkward and confusing. I can't remember exactly what happened but it was predictable and disappointing. There are some other characters: two pretty ones and a load of dog-looking ones. Franky gets dolled up, then undolls herself again because of identity and self expression and other stuff. Humiliation, enigmas, misery. Random and unnecessary drug taking followed by running and spinning around in the shopping centre. That scene was fairly uncomfortable to watch and basically pointless.
I couldn't really get into it, but whether this was because of the empty storyline or the acting I don't know. The acting was diabolical. Possibly the worst acting I've ever seen. You know the acting is bad when you get the overwhelming impression that you're watching a bunch of actors, acting. It felt like Dakota 'Blue' Richards (Franky) was reading her lines for the first time. And that she had reading difficulties. I struggled to place 'Mini's' weird accent and this unnerved me greatly. There might have been other characters but I kept forgetting if I was watching Skins or that thing on BBC Switch called 'The Cut' which is so crap it's almost good.
It was disgustingly bad. I had to watch it again to make sure it really was that awful, and it was. I shall be watching next week's episode because there is nothing on TV at the moment, but I am disappointed and betrayed.

Line

2011-01-27T19:58:00.001Z

My camera has decided that, following all the excited posts about upcoming Canon, it would be funny to have a software defect. In every single photo there is a thin horizontal line running part way across. This line is present on the final images and it is about two pixels high.
I hate this line. This line is subversive; an embarrassing blemish on the would-be perfection of the situation. Locating itself at exactly eye level, it can achieve the height of disruption and irritation, and it renders my camera completely disfunctional.
Prime example: (the line's vertical as it's rotated. It's near the right. Click photo.)

Forget Creative Auto mode. Forget slow shutter speed, long exposure and aperture settings - forget Portrait mode saturation and white balance. They are suddenly pathetic, trivial and useless, all killed by the line. My professional status is no more. Even Mario Testino is no match for the line.
I am becoming increasingly unnerved by Line. Google seems to have no record of it: I even went to the surreal and confusing realms of the 2nd page of search results with no success. I can only conclude that I am the only one in the whole world with this problem. My camera is sentient and it is ridiculing me.

70s?!?! (and I'm a Photographer.)

2011-01-22T20:10:00.002Z

Everywhere seems to be obsessed with the sartorial aspects of the 70s. Nearly all Topshop's current 'collections' are heavily influenced by the decade - with 'Abigail's Party' and 'Swedish Summer' stating 'we're playing by 70s rules' and 'fall in love with sweetly 70s style'. I can no longer go anywhere without seeing kimonos, polka-dot blouses with pussy bows, thick chunky platforms and flares. I thought this would be a fleeting, quiet trend: gone after 4 weeks and, as it is clearly a great embarrassment, never mentioned again. But I was wrong.
To my understanding, the 70s was the most disgusting decade for fashion. People wore flares a lot and round sunglasses. There were loads of hippies. Or was that the 60s? I forget. The point is that certain shops are taking huge liberties with their mimicry of this era.
For example, Topshop decided to make some hideous 'Navy Printed Wide Leg Trousers'. It turns out that it does, in fact, get worse than flares.

And with these 'Belted Culottes', New Look managed to surpass even the wide leg trousers in ugliness.

I have my new camera now and it definitely lived up to my expectations. I can now competently use 3% of its features and consider myself an experienced amateur. Tomorrow, I expect to achieve professional status, and soon my prints will be available worldwide. If you would like to book me for a photoshoot, I charge £600 an hour (I'm in ludicrously high demand) plus expenses.
An example of my work is this emotionally intense graveyard shot which marks the moment I discovered long exposure, or maybe slow shutter speed. It represents love, vanity, fear, death, love and fear. While it may look like a 'botched' shot, it in fact took hours of careful consideration before I perfected the lighting and 'composition'.

bally

2011-01-20T19:56:00.002Z

I am one day away from being the owner of a digital slr camera - (Canon Digital Rebel TSi 500D) This means I am one day away from being able to adorn my blog with overexposed images with 'retro' blue/green washes. Ever keen and preemptive, I have already downloaded the 200 page instruction manual and read it. This means that, while I am in the favourable position of knowing how to use my camera, I have also become bored of it before I have even touched it.

Just like everyone else at the moment, I am suddenly obsessed with ballet. This is probably due to the Black Swan, as well as other balletic developments in the media. I only wish I hadn't given ballet up at the age of nine, after seven excruciating years. I didn't think this was possible - but I think I may be jealous of myself. My former stronger, leaner, and more culturally fashionable self.
Black Swan got a review of 8.6 on IMDb - a highly respectable score from the veteran of internet film review sites.
I tried to book tickets online but it turns out I'm too old to understand the internet and I failed miserably, so I had to resort to using the telephone and talking to a real person.

I've done something a bit strange

2011-01-08T11:51:00.001Z

This morning I woke up resolved to buy something online. So I went on the Topshop sale, and they had updated it.
Fifteen minutes later and it seems that I have ordered two prom dresses in the sale, one reduced from £170 to £50 and one reduced from £55 to £15.

Three other options that I bagged quickly before they ran out of size 6 were long Kate Moss dresses, which my mum dismissed as 'too old' because she still thinks I'm 8.
I am rather smug at the fact that I haven't spent more than £75 and come away with two potential dresses, and also at the fact that I used a £5 off voucher that you're only supposed to use on full priced items. I have effectively outsmarted Topshop.

New year

2011-01-02T12:19:00.003Z

Some say it is the new year. But something far more important has occurred.

I have discovered contraband in our household.

The culprit is 'Natural Touch, Rose 3% blended with Jojoba Oil.'
Everything about it is suspicious. From the way it says '3% blended with' in small letters (you don't notice how little rose is actually in there), to the very fact that it is AROMATHERAPY (however much rose they decide to put in it will still have zero effect).
At the bottom they write 'Rosa damascena - Simmondsia chinensis' because pretty scientific words lead people to believe a lot of intelligent thought has gone into this little vial of lies.
When I discovered it I swiftly took the bottle in a plastic bag and, holding it at arms length, demanded how it had found its way into our reasoning and fairly logical home.
This aromatherapy bottle has calming properties, but I fail to see how this is possible when it in fact caused great panic and unrest.

Vince

2010-12-23T00:02:00.001Z

Yesterday all the news channels were bleating on about that Vince Cable thing - especially Sky, because it was about them, how exciting. I'm not going to comment at all on the way that the whole thing has been blown out of proportion and that when you think about it he didn't really do anything at all, and that the press has hungrily made a huge deal about the fact that he said 'declare war,' practically shouting it repeatedly at the camera. I'm just going to draw your attention to that recording they played continuously. The best bit about the whole thing is when he mentions the thing about 'declaring war,' and the female reporter spy laughs. I can practically hear the disbelieving and selfish glee behind that laugh. Imagine what she would have been thinking when she realised the massive evil plot she had revealed - causing her to laugh just slightly too much for the fairly average 'funny' comment he made. That laugh completely embodies the thirst and greed for stories that I think reporters have. It is funny and desperate.

Prewarning

2010-12-21T18:18:00.002Z

I've just realised that seconds are too long. I have realised this because whenever anyone attempts to count seconds, they go too quickly. Whoever invented seconds was obviously too laid back, thick, or had an unnaturally slow heartbeat. I propose that we speed seconds up slightly. Minutes and hours will remain unaffected.
I might be getting one of those poncy digital SLR cameras, most probably Canon. So I am issuing a formal warning: it is highly likely that, if said camera comes about, there will be a barrage of sub-standard amateur photos (with extremely high contrast) of profound raindrops on leaves, wilting flowers, and ugly industrial buildings. I might even stoop so low as to take one of those hipster/indie photos in vile mismatched vintage clothes. Upside down. In a mirror. With inturned knees and hunched shoulders. I will endeavour to make this a complete parody, but there will be an inevitable underlying element of self consciousness, desperation, and extreme vanity.

Extensive efforts bring slight elevation of the disappointment

2010-12-06T19:40:00.002Z

We have found a way to lessen the ugliness of our Christmas tree. By hacking off large proportions of its mass, draping it with forty different colours of tinsel and shining a high powered tungsten filament lamp directly at the tree for the duration of its stay, it we can lift it into the realms of mildly disgusting rather than heart-breakingly repugnant. This was helped by an envy-fuelled rampage of tidying my mother carried out* after visiting someone else's compulsively tidy house.
*Was not successful in finding a cool way of saying mother. I considered 'mum,' 'mummy,' 'maid,' 'parent' and was very close to 'female parent.'

Christmas tree brings sickening disappoinment

2010-12-04T17:11:00.002Z

I just decorated the Christmas tree. After an hour of intense work I stood back to behold a miserable drooping creature, the vivid and sparkling baubles disappearing into an overpowering mass of disappointing green. Sequinned owls, glittery pine cones, glass spheres, droplets of diamond, gold parcels, and vile red stars from Matalan which I put round the back - all absorbed by its fat pervading branches. What I especially dislike about our 6 foot bush is the way it is wonderfully corpulent at the bottom, but tapers into disheartening sparseness above the halfway mark. Like an anorexic with a beer belly. My mum asked for a 4 foot tree but I decided 6 foot was closer to 4 foot than 4 foot. The excess 2 feet are an ugly branchless peak, like some skeletal finger that I will probably cut off eventually.
The highlight of the Christmas tree process was undoubtedly the net machine. At B&Q a man took our Christmas tree from us, and while we looked on in protective and loving concern, he passed it through some sort of cement mixture with a net at one end. When the Christmas tree came out the other side, it had a net on. It was magical. Elated, we wiped tears of bliss from our eyes and took our tree back into our trolley, stroking its belly. Unsatisfied with a mere pot, we also bought a chavvy gold stand which I detest even more than the tree.

If evolution is true, why are there still monkeys?

2010-11-29T21:51:00.003Z

Think about that why don't you.

2010-11-23T18:59:00.002Z

It suddenly occured to me that although I live in Portsmouth, I have no idea of how to get anywhere within it. Fratton, North End, Southsea and the rest are a series of separate orbs in which I find myself occasionally, with no idea of how they relate to eachother. It is extremely unsettling that, were I to suddenly need to travel to Paulsgrove, I simply wouldn't have the capacity.
Dull news everyone! Kate Middleton and Prince William are getting married! A week or so after it was announced and vapid little newsflashes about it are still occupying prime BBC News positions. Apparently people care that the date has been set - it's April 29th, by the way. How interesting: I have just been informed by the Daily Mail that courtiers would have particularly liked a summer date due to fears of inclement weather, yet Kate and Prince have insisted on spring - that fiesty pair! Even my trusty Guardian reports the same story.
Also in the news is some trivial crap a boy who was raised a girl, something about the Pope and condoms, some inconsequential chatter about a Korean artillery clash - but KATE MIDDLETON AND PRINCE WILLIAM ARE GETTING MARRIED!
There was a comment recently about the word pulchritudinous, featured in my last post. After being told it could only be used to describe literature, I decided to investigate. I have scoured the whole internet, even the likes of Yahoo Answers and Wikianswers (depressing glimpses into our deserted post-apocalyptic future), and found no sign that this is true. In fact, the centre of all knowledge, commonly referred to as Dictionary.com, defined it as 'formal , literary or physical beauty.' It is a sign of our internet dominated world that my last step was to pick up some dictionary we seem to have in our house. It simply defined 'pulchritude' as beauty - no mention that it was literature specific. It is derived from the Latin 'pulcher' for beauty, and I only say this to make myself look more intelligent. So unless some pathetic 'english scholars' have recently decided by some strange etymological loophole that pulchritudinous can only be used to describe literature, then this is simply not true.

Stunningly pulchritudinous

2010-11-09T19:16:00.001Z

We're in dire need of a new superlative. 'Fabulous' was abolished long ago, in the 90s or some decade equally horrible. Now it inhabits only the conversation of homosexuals, or other extreme stereotypes in the fashion industry. There was a grotesque period in which 'stunning' was used. Using 'Bebo' as its vehicle, it went from mainly frequenting the vocabulary of chavs to penetrating like a vile poison into the mouths of ordinary people. It also produced the lovely derivative 'stunnah,' which was an important accolade for any self conscious and vanity plagued pre-teenager. Often used to make ugly people feel better about the disgusting picture of them posing into a tiny bathroom mirror - the flash of their camera obscuring everything except some beady eyes and fat rolls - it was probably the most fraudulently used noun there has ever been.
At the moment the latest successor is 'amazing.' The nice 'A' vowel allows the second syllable to be drawn out as long as necessary, depending on how obnoxious and intolerable one happens to be. 'Amazing' is incredibly flexible: it can be used to describe a personal appearance, a piece of written work, an item of clothing, a recently watched film, an experience, and about 64 other things. I have a feeling, though, that its reign is coming to an end: you can practically hear people's crushing inward misery when they have stooped low enough to use it. Without a doubt, 'amazing's' fate was sealed after it appeared in that sickeningly awful Bruno Mars song.
This of course means that society needs a new superlative: a new word that seems to top all the others before it. A new word that can convey just how happy and warm you feel about something. A new word that we can vomit out in desperation when all other vocabulary has failed us.
We could play it safe with 'wonderful,' 'brilliant,' and 'fantastic.' Perhaps go retro with 'stupendous,' 'peachy,' and 'terrific.' But I think we are ready to reach the highs of 'tremendous,' 'magnificent' and 'wondrous.' Maybe even 'walloping.'
The best idea would be to have a different superlative for each situation. When complimenting a picture, use 'sensational.' For comically ugly pictures, try 'pulchritudinous,' because although it means beautiful it's one of the ugliest words available to you. A particularly memorable party can be 'laudable' and someone's shit poem can be 'transcendant.'

Why Jane Austen is shit

2010-11-02T21:37:00.002Z

Her sentences last a paragraph each and her story lines are incredibly predictable. Yet we can't stop dribbling on about her brilliance and seem to be compulsively awarding her accolades.
Bit of meta-reporting here: 'Professor Kathryn Sutherland of Oxford University' studied shedloads of original handwritten pages of Jane Austen and decided that her critically acclaimed 'perfect style' was the work of her editor. Who, unfortunately for feminists, was a male.
This of course brings me to a couple of conclusions.
a) If she is 'widely regarded as a supreme stylist' and 'a writer of perfectly polished sentences,' as the BBC article I'm reading states, then everyone in the world is wrong except me. I become extremely confused when I'm halfway through Northanger Abbey and still on the first sentence. How can a good writer be one that creates the necessity for one to read the same sentence 4 times to make sense of it? In fact, I am going to continue this post in true Jane Austen style.
b) Rather due to the fact, which may indeed actually excite the feminists, that Jane Austen's style is due to her male editor, then, we can be assured that her own particular style may not have been so inclined to puzzle: perhaps she is a good writer after all, so I should not criticise her good name; the article reports that in fact her original handwritten scripts had a more finely crafted dialogue, in which case I feel she has been hugely misrepresented for all these years, and I only wish I had read the handwritten version of Pride and Prejudice, rather than killing my brain trying to tackle the edited cryptic one.
c) Despite this, it pains me to say, nothing can change the unfortunate simplistic and predictable story lines that Miss Austen employs.

People were cooler in the 80s

2010-10-31T12:15:00.001Z

I have spent this whole decade laughing contemptuously at their hairstyles and ugly clothes, from the vantage point of my supposedly superior, snobby generation. Then I spent the whole of Halloween watching music videos from the 80s, and realised that (with the exception of Bon Jovi probably) I was wrong. They were simply effortlessly cooler than all of the laughable current 'stars.' For example:
Blondie

The pretty one from The Bangles

Madonna...

They just seem so, er, 'rockstar,' not trying to sound too gimpy. Compared to today, they seem more scruffy, indifferent. In other words, not this:

Or this, ugh.

They are completely manufactured and reek of desperation. All style and no genuine 'coolness.'

I just ate some Urban Outfitters

2010-10-17T18:21:00.002+01:00

I say that because if I don't order clothes every once in a while I die of boredom, especially on Sundays. I fulfilled my need for an ironic t-shirt and got one with a leopard print crucifix. Urban Outfitters makes me very happy.
I feel like a complete toddler because I just made some invitations for my party, using a Cath Kidston set which includes envelopes and stickers. Sadly it's only a 15 piece set and I'm inviting 16, so one hard-done-by person is going to have a nice Microsoft Word document with some good old Wordart and Comic Sans. Oh and I nearly forgot Clipart.
Personally I think Wordart, Comic Sans and Clipart should all die slowly and painfully, perhaps with a nice sadistic combination of burning alive and the old bamboo shoots torture. They are unwanted remnants from the age in which computers were still being breastfed, back when ten-year-olds used them to make shit little posters about minibeasts. Anyone who still uses Wordart, Comic Sans or Clipart is a complete idiot, ignorant to their new-fangled successors: Google Images and a nice bit of size 150 Cambria font, aligned bottom-right. This is edgy.
I don't know why I'm endorsing MS Word actually. It's bollocks. Everytime I add in a new text box or something I have to pray that it won't screw up everything else on the page, pushing every object into some unknown twisted realm. And if use text boxes rather than writing normal text, it refuses to go onto a new page when I run out of space. So I have to insert a new page, which for some reason appears before the first page. And when I'm trying to position two linked text boxes next to each other, the inflexible movement facilities don't allow a natural looking progression of text, but instead an infuriating gap. Maybe the general problem here is with the text boxes.
I love free internet stuff. Google Docs is a simple yet WORKING word processor that doesn't try and correct your grammar like a little bitch. Again acting like a toddler, I used it to make a party information sheet and found it most pleasing.

2010-10-15T22:09:00.001+01:00

I've just got GHDs. So now I become one of those people that boasts about the superiority of GHDs to kid themselves into thinking they were worth £100. I've got a good 2 years left until they dutifully break, so I'll use them well and inflict 7 years of damage onto my hair.
The GHD 'Creation Spray' that I bought with the straighteners will not, however, escape criticism. It claimed to be able to hold your style better so I read the reviews which somehow made me believe it was something other than just hairspray.
It is in fact proactively worse than hairspray, and the only perceivable result is more of a delightful burning smell than before. I have thus concluded that any advice or information you will ever receive from anyone is born out of ulterior selfish motives and noone's opinion can be trusted.

Jesus T-shirt

2010-10-06T18:24:00.001+01:00

I've decided that I am in dire need of an ironic t-shirt. I already have horse top which works quite effectively to give the wrong impression about my character, but I'm thinking of a t-shirt with a big crucifix on it. There a quite a few other entertaining options:
Recycling symbol
Bunnies/kittens/puppies/teddies
Bible quote
Justin Bieber/Hannah Montana
Anything related to being a vegetarian
Massive pair of Crocs
Jay Z/Kanye West
It would mean I had to restrict my company to people that know me, to achieve ultimate hilarity and avoid coming across as a complete fool.

The hidden ill intentions of children's TV

2010-09-30T19:55:00.001+01:00

I've just been watching a television programme in which a number of fairly likeable characters encounter and overcome minor problems whilst also teaching exercise. They live communually in quite sophisticated and modern accomodation, and the general theme of each episode is that they reach a sort of Nirvana at the end. It's called 'Waybuloo' and it's on Cbeebies. It's also the root of all the country's drug problems, FACT*. How can the creators sit there knowing that they are educating toddlers on the experience and merits of intoxicating substances? I practically feel sick just watching the 'Piplings' float whimsically in the sky, laughing sweetly as they ascend to their drug induced heaven. I'm surprised that all the nation's four year olds haven't already assembled an underground toddler mafia, trading cannabis and other illegal substances.
I can't help feeling a sense of loyalty to 'In the Night Garden' that prevents me from approving at all of Waybuloo. Although they only seemed to make about four episodes, repeating them hourly, I was practically as captivated as my little sister. The characters comprised of an obsessive compulsive lonely hermit with a fondness for rocks, a group of colossal inflatable toys that just wibbled about happily, and a huge family of small wooden people (probably on benefits), along with their elusive neighbours. Combine this with the lovely little names like 'Iggle Piggle,' 'Haa Hoo' and 'Makka Pakka' and you potentially have something so cute that it is dangerous.

*Turns out there's no need for reasoning or logic anymore; simply stating FACT after any assertion renders it immediately true.

bloody fat people.

2010-09-26T18:26:00.002+01:00

My new school blouses arrived today. As this is a highly exciting occasion, I gave them the opening ceremony they deserved - invited the whole extended family round, got some caterers, some good music, candles. Then I opened the pretty white parcel and extracted the blouses. They were folded like origami round a cardboard frame, so with shaking hands I peeled them off and prepared to unravel the blouses into their true vomity pink glory.
Unfortunately it turned out that they were hugely massive. All my relatives went home; some shouting abuse, some resorting to actual violence, some just contemplating suicide. And I sat and pondered these blouses. Why were they wider than they were long? In what way were they supposed to fit any normal human figure? Then I realised I was simply a victim of size inflation. Size inflation, for those that don't know, is the enlarging of clothes while their size labels remain the same. So a chest size 34 might have fitted someone of my size five years ago, but it won't anymore. In other words, the clothing companies are being too nice to fat people. The makers of my blouse feared that they would have complaining fat people phoning up when they couldn't button the blouse around their huge neck. So to avoid this problem, they simple doubled the amount of material used, producing a tent-like structure that, sadly, seems to fit most of the fat people in this country.
I feel that by inflicting such brutal insults on fat people is kind and generous. If it motivates them into losing weight then I have done a fellow human's duty of protecting your peers. Being fat - and I mean clinically fat, not just chubby - is dangerous and unhealthy and it pains me when vast women boast 'curves' when actually they are just pushing it.
Something strange and terrifying has happened to me. For the first time in years, I seem to have experienced sympathy for an animal. The owners of a dog drove it out into the countryside, took it outside the car, then quickly sped off and left it there. It tried to catch up but it couldn't, because it had a limp. I practically sobbed and bought a dog in a random act of animal love.

POPEMOBILE and wooly coat overdrive

2010-09-23T22:22:00.002+01:00

The popemobile is just a glorified bulletproof wheelchair. Or some sort of OAP go-kart. I'm glad that the pope decided to be old in order to make his preferred mode of transport even funnier.
Totally uncharacteristically, I went on the Topshop website. I had a look at their Unique collection, and while I do think the clothes are reasonably ugly, I was blown away by their sheer decadence. It's like they've taken an unassuming country ranch in, er, Russia, and completely pimped it up so that I practically got a nosebleed just looking at these clothes. And although that sentence did not make sense I feel it suitably portrayed my mixed feelings for this collection.
In fact, just as I'm writing this I've realised that I love it. They actually have an antler hairband - tremendously unsubtle but lovely. And for some reason I can excuse the fact that it's £80. If I had a lot of money to waste on crap I would buy it. There are also some hiking boots on steroids, and some furry coats that, if anything, look too hot. I could probably cook a steak in those coats. Put simply, this collection is what Lady Gaga would wear in Moscow, or somewhere else cold, to put my lack of geography skills in the spotlight.

HOW BLOODY WARM DOES IT LOOK?

2010-09-02T21:25:00.001+01:00

Just been through the old gem of a routine that is hastily deleting old posts you didn't realise were there. They consisted of the pathetic and embarrassing subjects of my christmas list, some neuroticism about my party, and openly slagging off my friends.
Right so my last few days of Brighton included crawling around the floor of TK Maxx. Yes, I have stooped that low in search of a school bag. But that was nothing compared to the documentary I watched today.
It's called 'Enemies of reason' or something and it has that angry man Richard Dawkins in it. It's about 'alternative healing methods' and 'chakras' and maybe fairies and goblins, why not. It was both hilarious and disgusting. Hilarious when some woman waved her hands at Richard Dawkins and declared he now had his fourth chromosome triangle. And laughed. As if she knew it was a load of bollucks, and was laughing gleefully at the way she had conned thousands out of people. That particular scene wasn't worth any contempt: too pathetic. But then it moved onto a section about homeopathic medicine. Before, I didn't know anything about homeopathy, but had a vague notion that it was some treehugger 'medicine' shit. Now I feel like I've had my eyes opened onto something horrific and terrible. It's even worse then when I watched the X Factor.
Homeopathy works like this: something that causes similar symptoms to the ones you are suffering will cure your illness. So red onion would cure watery eyes. It also states that the more diluted a remedy is, the better it works. And the little bottled remedies you might buy if you are a gullible twat, shunning proven scientific medicines that actual intelligent people created, are so diluted that they are actually water. The NHS has a homeopathy department. They spent 12 million on making these magic little bottles of water, or sugar pills if you're lucky. 12 million they could have spent on something useful. If you're not angry about this then you are an unfeeling evil gnome faith healer.

Big hate for X Factor

2010-08-24T20:18:00.002+01:00

I was in a particularly cynical mood the other day; and thats the original meaning of the word, not the football meaning. So the new series of X Factor was probably the wrong thing to watch. Five minutes in, and I had lost faith in humankind and was feeling like a patronised baboon enjoying some nice disco lights. Speaking of which, today I saw a gorilla pick its nose and eat it and I was far more entertained. Every so often it cuts to the queues outside and we see some hideous wobbly specimens bouncing around flashing their 3 braincells in our faces. Proud of their failure at everything. It is, obviously, worse when said embarrasments start to sing. Well it should be, but they used 'vocal enhancement processes,' so it just sounds faintly robotic instead. Infuriating! They used it on one member of a duet to demonstrate the difference in singing ability between them - one's a dog, one's mediocre - so that they could play the 'maybe you should audition alone' card. Everything about X Factor is false. I'm starting to think that the judges are simulations. Simon Cowell doesn't exist. The only real element is Dermot O'Leary, who's actually just standing in a studio talking to a green screen the whole time.
I was well chuffed with my New Look boots. I thought I was being all mature and shit. I wore them in Brighton for a day and now I hate them. My toes nearly bled. I was considering taking them back, but apparently you're not allowed once you've worn them out; and unfortunately I can't disguise that fact what with shitty New Look quality.

I feel considerably lighter

2010-08-19T18:16:00.003+01:00

So once again I've failed as a quirky Brighton vintage shopper and bought an eye shadow trio from Mac. It wasn't my fault, though - I am a victim of high pressure sales. Once I'm in the position where they're looking at me expectantly, having just applied seven different eye shadows to my face, I simply have to buy something; even if it's a £15 little pot that made me feel considerably lighter and slightly dazed as I left the shop.
American Apparel may be going bust! That's because it's overpriced and largely average, except for the few mildly pornographic things (Nylon Spandex Stretch Lace Diamond Grid Bodysuit). And it's too bloody hipster to be taken seriously. There's one in Brighton actually, which I went in for two minutes today. Most of it was tragically underwhelming, and when I found myself halfway to liking something it turned out to be six times what I would be willing to pay. I think American Apparel was probably popular a few years ago. But there are only so many spandex bodysuits, lace trousers and invisible one pieces they can cram into the confused population of 15-25-year-olds.
I have successfully purchased some Ugly Boots. New Look, also in Brighton, £35. I don't actually know how to do the laces, so I feel like a 5 year old all over again. I had an unfortunate moment of suicide contemplation when I discovered I'd left my £5 voucher at home.

Ugly boots

2010-08-12T12:45:00.001+01:00

There are two kinds of ugly boots. Here are some examples of the pretty and wearable kind. These two by asos:

...And the preferable, non-wedge topshop version:

These office shoes present an appropriate ugly-boot alternative.

There are, unfortunately, those kinds of ugly-boots which have ventured too far into the ugly realm: Bearded Tramp Boot, topshop ('argyle sock lined ankle boots').

Oh, and anything by Ugg crossed the line between Ugly and Too Ugly years ago.
On Saturday I'm going to stay in Brighton for two weeks. It has loads of vintage shops so one might presume I would be excited. However through recent experiences I have come to realise that vintage clothes, from pretty much any decade, are hideously ugly. So, unless I can develop an interest in overpriced silk scarves and clock pendants (the only mildy acceptable items available) that lasts for two weeks, I may have to spend the majority of my time in topshop or mac.

Sorry

2010-07-24T11:15:00.003+01:00

Blogger have just introduced the 'stats' tab that lets you see your blog traffic, but most importantly, it allows you to see how people accessed your blog. For example, a fair amount of people have stumbled upon my blog from the google search 'how to wear peg leg trousers.' Now I did a post a while back about the ugliness of certain fashion trends. These included peg leg trousers, which I defamed quite heavily. In fact I could rename the post 'the defamation of peg leg trousers.' So some poor sheep has gone out and bought some peg leg trousers, gone on t'internet to find out how to wear them, and pretty much been informed that their shiny new trousers will make them look fat and vile. It's the same story for fur gilets, and jumpsuits.

Do you know what I hate?

2010-07-22T20:29:00.005+01:00

Vegetarian shoes. I mean it's one thing to be a vegetarian. I'm far too unsympathetic and ignorant to understand how you could forgo meat for your whole life. But only wearing vegetarian shoes is taking it one step further. First of all, it's unforgivably smug. Like driving a hybrid and solar powering shit - sticking your annoying love for the planet in everyone's faces. They also tend to be hideous. I feel that I can prove that point with the word Crocs, but here are some examples I found on the delightful website Vegetarian Shoes. It claims its shoes are "cruelty free," how vile.

Now this is what happens when you try and make a shoe out of a material other than leather and plastic. Shoes made out of "Vegetan Bucky" must be extremely ugly - there is no other way.
I detest eco-friendliness. It's nauseating. So is the concept of 'organic clothes.' I have become quite adept at avoiding that tell-tale, grainy looking brown paper - the flag of the treehuggers, to whom I am the proud antagonist.

Magazine literature

2010-07-12T20:09:00.010+01:00

My Glamour magazine the other day came with a free book. In these circumstances you have to ask yourself - why is the book free? After wasting two days of my life reading this piece of literature I realised. The book is free because the book is shit. 'I heart New York' is about everything you might expect it to be about. It involves dating, affairs, and working for a magazine. And shopping. But I somehow found myself reading it voraciously, even hiding away in my room, too ashamed to let anyone see. Maybe I was waiting for it to get good. Maybe I was captivated by the utterly dull writing style. Maybe I wanted to find out if she would choose Tyler or Alex.
I just went on the net-a-porter.com sale, with some insane notion that I might be able to afford something. If there actually something within my price range, I would simply have to buy it. Even if it was made of baby shit:

Even if it was faulty:

Not, however, if it was a poncho.

Personally I prefer my ponchos from The Edinburgh Woolen Mill, which boasts 'luxury cashmere in rainbow colours.' And this beauty of a polo neck:

Clothes Show London

2010-06-30T20:29:00.008+01:00

We travelled for three hours on bus and train due to engineering works. We journeyed on the tube in 30 degrees. We plodded up to the doors of Earls Court, many of us feeling foot pain (except me who was wearing comfortable yet vile Clarks sandals). We entered, walking extra slowly as we passed the model scouts. They failed to notice us. We perused the various different stalls for a couple of hours. We found the model scouts' stand and we strolled past it a few more times. We got the message. We ate shockingly overpriced wedges with cheese. Some opted for barbecue sauce. For dessert we found a Muller free sample stall but failed to be over 16, thus not eligible for a rice pudding. We got pounced on by a pleasant Italian salesman who tried to sell us a shit nailbar kit. We got told that if we bought a £3 paper bag we'd get 3 goody bags instead of one. We neglected to realise these goody bags would be identical.
We went to the Fashion Theatre - a catwalk which was reasonably entertaining except for its failure to tell us where the clothes were from, the mediocrity of the choreography, and the anonymity of the supposedly celebrity presenters.

The photos were a slight fail due to the inconsiderate bastards sitting in the rows in front of us.

The highlight of the day was being able to stand in front of this wall. We felt special.

Clogs: What the hell

2010-06-09T20:50:00.005+01:00

My magazine told me that Crocs were in. I read the sentence again about twelve times, to find that it actually said clogs; yet my anguish was reduced only infinitessimally.
What the hell.
To my understanding, these are clogs:

I might as well get it out in the open now: I own clogs. They were a sad by-product of a holiday in Holland. What are they? The Dutch failed attempts at early shoes? I can only imagine the sort of foot-related ailments these would cause. So naturally, when I saw the word 'clogs,' I spent a few distressed seconds imagining a wave of yellow wooden slabs, actively and happily vile.
Topshop's versions:

While slightly less vile than I feared, they manage to be hideous and elegant at the same time. You have to respect that clumpy, woody goodness. But I was suspicious: I feared there must be some greater ugliness lurking below the surface.

There is. 'Swedish Hasbeens,' who must be ecstatic that clogs are actually in fashion, have created these ugly shits. It's the yellow again. These must be the closest you can get to wearing clogs without actually wearing clogs (which should be punishable by death), and this deeply disturbs me.
Clogs - why? Why would you resurrect these ugly dogs? It's Chanel's fault - the same Chanel who caused Topshop to have a 'Temporary Tattoos' section on their website. I think Chanel are laughing as they increase the ugliness of our appearances bit by bit.

WOW

2010-05-30T19:03:00.004+01:00

We don't need geography lessons any more! They're being replaced with a single, once a year lesson that lasts about 3 hours. It's called Eurovision. First, you have to watch a combination of: European power ballads with pointless dancers and mega passionate key changes, some attempts at directional original music, Greek males prancing around in tight white costumes, the odd failed money note, and what ever shit the UK manages to throw together (this time in particular it was a 19 year old singing 'That sounds good to me,' something I can only describe as a naive young child agreeing to get in the car with a paedophile).
So after that lovely introduction to European culture, we have the voting. 12 points = neighbouring country, 1 point = UK, and this rule is so accurate that you can have endless fun compiling a map of Europe afterwards. Portugal will vote for Spain, Turkey will vote for Greece, Greece will vote for Cyprus, and the eastern countries all vote for eachother. The only fault with this lesson is that they sometimes throw in a country or two that doesn''t exist. 'Azerbaijan' and 'Belarus' were this year's examples, so make sure you don't get caught out.
The highlight this year was doubtlessly the man who pranced like a ballerina onto Spain's mediocre performance, raising its entertainment level by about 700%. Romania's fucking amazing invention of two pianos joined with some perspex came a close second, purely for its sheer amazement factor.

Duke of Edinburgh

2010-05-17T20:28:00.003+01:00

Last weekend I walked 24km carrying a 11kg backpack, slept in the freezing cold on a shitty attempt at a sleeping mat, and ate crap food plus a spectacularly high quantity of sugar. Whilst tending to my 10-12 blisters, I've been trying to work out exactly why that certain weekend of my life has ended up as such, and I believe I've come to a reasonable conclusion. It is not because I thought it would be fun, nor is it because 'it will look good on my CV.' Unbelievably it's not even because I wanted to 'push my physical strength and stamina to the limit,' which I know is hard to come to terms with.
It's because I wanted to impress a series of old men. Firstly, our dear old assessor. He said our navigation was not good enough. We were sad and angry. The next day, he said our navigation needed to be 'nearly perfect.' We proceeded to ask him what would happen if it wasn't. He simply repeated: 'it needs to be nearly perfect,' because he's so intelligent and cryptic. But in our hearts we knew the answer - we would FAIL. I don't believe it was possible to spend an hour without being threatened by FAILURE. If we didn't pick up pasta off the grass - FAILURE. Getting in the way of cyclists - FAILURE. Rude to the assessors - FAILURE. Failure was a formidable and daunting concept that the assessors threw around frivolously, teasing and scaring our little hearts, to make themselves feel important. To try and forget, just for a few seconds, that their lives were insignificant - so insignificant and empty that they would willingly give up a whole two days to go chasing young girls through a forest.
Not that they weren't good at it. We'd be walking through the silent forest, and suddenly one of these smug little shits appears out of nowhere on his bike. He then removes his helmet (safety first), proceeds to tell us that we are lost, and observes that we are not smiling, before fucking off again. It makes me think - 'well these old men are awfully good at tracking young girls through a forest, but I'm going to ignore any implications that may have and not jump to any conclusions.'
So you can see why I wanted to impress them. God forbid they thought my navigation wasn't up to scratch.
But I've failed to mention the most important, judgemental and fucking pedantic old man of all. The Duke of Edinburgh himself. This man is old. He is a man that believes in guilty until proven innocent, a man that assumes that we are all liars, a man that thinks we still know how to use compasses, a man that totally refuses to acknowledge a certain modern convenience known as a sat nav. He is a man that employs a whole host of old men who are, each one, nearly as smug and pedantic as he is. Not forgetting the old women, but they are, as we know, simply tagging along to their husbands and doing the cooking. Google tells me he is the Queen's husband, but I'm no fool - the Queen's husband obviously lives in Buckingham Palace with her, not Edinburgh. I embarked on a 24km journey of pain to impress this old bastard.

2010-05-10T21:31:00.003+01:00

You may remember a post added fairly long ago about Lipstick Queen. Well there is a Space NK apothecary in Brighton, which was honoured with my presence on Sunday. And it contained this longed-for brand. So I tried the colours out; but strangely, under the expectant eyes of the homosexual man and his blonde barbie collegue, I was not at all impressed by any of them. For some reason, they no longer held the magic I had formerly believed them to.
Isn't it funny that I can spend a weekend in Brighton, full of amazing one-off vintage shops, and come home with nothing to show for it except a Mac lipstick. It's also a shameful reflection on my character that, for the duration, I was striving for the Topshop and American Apparel of this city full of unique treasures.

stuff that is happening in the news

2010-04-30T21:04:00.003+01:00

Imagine if a 14 year old school boy repeatedly hit his teacher over the head with a dumbbell shouting 'die, die die.' He would be expelled, probably imprisoned for at least a year. Neither the jury nor the judge would have any sympathy for him. So why, when the situation is reversed, does the teacher get acquitted? He might have been driven to the brink. But the fact remains that he attempted to murder one of the pupils - has that just been ignored? As a teacher he has the responsibility to be an example to the students. Anything the boy may have done is not at the same level as attempted murder. The teacher showed a complete lack of control that is childish and frankly vile.
I had a look on the Daily Mail website (an endlessly bountiful resource for balanced and intelligent critical opinion) to look at some of the comments on the article. The highest rated comments were in complete favour of the teacher - saying how he was a good and innocent man driven to madness by evil disruptive pupils. But he was 50. The boy was practically a child. In my (100% right) opinion, it's ridiculous and backwards.
Oh and then there's the election. Ho hum. How to choose between three identical parties with different names? Well I'll certainly be voting BNP, only joking. I tried to watch the election debates but got distracted by the ugly people in the audience, and David Cameron's creepy hypnotic, piercing eyes.

so I just bought a horse top.

2010-04-25T13:59:00.004+01:00

I am not an animal person. Maybe if I saw a picture of a particularly cute kitten, being mauled, I might manage a second of sympathy, but that is the extent of my interest. I would shoot a missile into a bunny or puppy nursery if it saved one person's life. I'm so disinterested that I don't even enjoy animal cruelty. As far as I'm concerned, animals are there purely to aid the existence of humans - they are tasty.
So why did I buy a top with a horse on it? I find horses a waste of space; the toys of posh people. Watching them prance about on TV is boring and shit, horse racing is boring and shit, polo is boring and shit, horses are just generally shit. I want to move to France so I can eat them legally. Oh and Black Beauty is a shit film. You might have thought that a horse is the last thing I want on my jumper.
Maybe I wanted to be ironic. Maybe it's because it's from Topshop. Maybe I just want to wear a horse on my jumper, because I can. I can confine it to the 5 inch space on my front, trap it forever, just to please me. I can own this horse.

Everyone's been barking on about Glee, and as I am repelled by musicals, especially American ones, I firmly refused to watch it. But yesterday I accidentally threw myself into the vortex and watched the first episode. And now I have to watch the second one.

I got a new haircut

2010-04-17T19:44:00.008+01:00

My hair now qualifies to be called brunette, how exciting?
The Debenhams range H by Henry Holland is quite possibly the first time I have ever wanted or liked clothes from Debenhams. So I went the other day to ransack it, brought about 23 things to the changing rooms, and didn't like any of them. For some reason, the ridiculously garish 80's style clothes didn't look as nice on me as they looked on Pixie Geldof.
Talking of Pixie Geldof, Georgia Jagger seems to be doing well. What's the trend here...? She was voted UK model of the year or something like that, so they were obviously going for the gormless, buck-toothed look.

She has abnormal front teeth. They are not attractive. They appear to instantly lower her IQ to about 3.
Madonna's daughter Lourdes had crazy eyebrows, then got them sorted out, finally.
Peaches did some shit, got in a magazine, did some other shit, then people stopped caring.

You Tub

2010-04-02T21:30:00.003+01:00

I actually thought Youtube's new layout was some kind of hilarious April fools joke. It isn't. But that makes it sound like I'm against the layout, which is not, in fact, the case.
There seems to be some uproar about the removal of the 'ratings' system for a like/dislike type of affair. There is, however, one massive reason why the new system wins. As you well know, most of the people who watch and comment on Youtube videos are absolute brainless shits.
Here are some of my favourites.

'johnnyrocks200 this boy is soooooooooooo retarted'
'ChloeBabe8 LMAO, THAT WAS HALERIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!'
'TroyluvsGabi dang all u peeps who r against God r just the most ignorant people and i promise u that when Jesus comes to judge u will regret it. God does exist and if he doesnt then prove it.'

Ugh. And don't forget those complete lost causes who upload a... slideshow of images... with some shitty 'fade' transitions... and a crappy, pointless backing track... and call it a video. So, what I'm trying to say is that we seriously can't expect these primitive 12 year olds to choose between FIVE degrees of quality to rate a video. That requires significantly higher intelligence. Therefore, naturally, a simple like/dislike system is much more appropriate. No real thinking is necessary. Just decide whether the video makes you feel happy and warm inside, or uncomfortable and confused.
As for the rest of the changes, who really gives a shit? It's still Youtube. Just less clutter. Obviously the aforementioned primitive 12 year olds are not sufficiently capable to adapt to a slightly new system. Gosh - the user's videos are ABOVE the video itself rather then the right margin! Everything is ruined! And shit, I have to hover over the comments to reply to them.
On the subject of Youtube I want to pay tribute to a brilliantly scathing old man who makes fun of, well, religion &c. But don't watch if you are one of those people likely to get 'offended' (a fate worse than death, of course), or a part of that knuckle dragging Youtube pollution.
http://www.youtube.com/user/patcondell

a rational response

2010-03-31T18:08:00.006+01:00

One buys knitwear in order to keep one's self warm. Therefore, a jumper such as this clearly has major design flaws.

Due to the large holes covering much of the garment, great heat loss would be experienced, and, as a jumper, this is utterly useless.
This bastard will have someone's eye out:

Vastly compromises mobility:

I just got some ridiculously lovely faith shoes which rival even my, also lovely, topshop shoes. Flats, of course, as heels cause endless podiatric and spinal damage, and are sharp. They are pretty and gay (meaning happy).

I don't really understand the whole 'banana' shoe ordeal. I see no practical advantage of having such a bendy, elastic shoe. It prevents one from being able to utilise their whole foot for weight-spreading purposes, and furthermore reduces the overall rigidity of the shoe; inevitably leading to excruciating pain and disablement in later life.
I am going away for orchestra merriment next week, so seven days of no internet. Unless of course the town of 'Blandford' (yes, Blandford) has internet connection, which I doubt insanely. AND I'll be having far too much fun with my little (£2k) fiddle to want to write in this piece of crap.
A new room update why not: We were pulling up the hall way carpet and chipping off the tiles in the room to make way for the lush wooden floorboards, and everything was generally going swimmingly. But then we found a raised steel gas pipe cutting across the hall floor and causing a raised ridge. A motherfucking steel gas pipe. So now we have to dig under and around the whole length of it to drop it like a millimetre, and we'll probably kill ourselves because it's a steel gas pipe.

I am slowly coming round to the idea of Uniqlo

2010-03-24T18:54:00.008Z

I have always thought Uniqlo was like a lamer version of Gap. Selling plain, generic t-shirts in 12 different colours for a questionably high price alongside failed attempts at skinny jeans (I say this from personal experience and bitterness at having worn baggy skinny jeans for years). What made Uniqlo different from Gap was that it was Japanese, and therefore sold illustrated t-shirts in cylindrical plastic pots on shelves 15 foot high. So I've been ignoring Uniqlo for a while, until BAM. I see a few adverts in magazines, and my interest is captured. I try the website. Suddenly it's gone from Gap to a cleaner version of American Apparel (ignoring the topless women on the homepage). Good God - they sell jeans for £14.99 - jeans that look skinny, jeans that look ACCEPTABLE. Uniqlo churn out designs with machine-like efficiency: like the 3 varieties of legging, categorised by price. Some things are even on the verge of pretty, although I wouldn't go that far. They have a jumper with a cake on it. A cake. I have realised that Uniqlo doesn't just have to be for 30 year olds. Japanese 30 year olds.
I recently bought this top from Topshop:

I thought it was spiffy because it had a knot in it, and didn't they do that in, like, the 80's or something. And it practically goes with everything, including my primark sandals which cut my feet, which is good because it means I won't have to buy anything for a while as I'm saving up for Bestival or an ipod touch. Or maybe both perhaps. Or the Hollister sale which I hear is on, because I've realised I don't have a denim skirt.

So What's New?

2010-03-18T19:26:00.005Z

Nothing. Just asos pretending to be sophisticated, topshop churning out the occasional atrocity amongst all the other reasonable things, urban outfitters selling overpriced indie porn, new look trying really hard, net-a-porter being that place I go to if I want to marvel at how disgusting fashion is, french connection having a bearded man on the front page and declaring "this is man," dorothy perkins being a failed attempt at topshop for old ladies, look being one big advert, missoni making the ugliest cardigans I've ever seen, chanel no. 5 being expensive urine, and justin bieber being a prancing homosexual.

Lego Digital Camera

2010-03-10T19:38:00.001Z

That is all.

I'm a Mac. I'm a PC. You bastard.

2010-03-07T20:42:00.004Z

As a prologue to the following post I must point out some important details about our computer set up:
1. At our desk are two monitors linked to the same computer, one big ass 20" bugger and a smaller one.
2. We have been using Microsoft.

So today I settled myself in the familiar uncomfortable chair face to face with my two indulgent monitors. I 'wiggled' the mouse to rouse them from their slumber. Then as the big daddy 20" took a while to wake up, I noticed that the keyboard and mouse instruments before me seemed to have duplicated. There were now 2 keyboards and 2, er, mice. This struck me as rather unusual. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Expecting the usual background of rolling hills generic to Windows, I was instead presented with some pretentious cosmic galaxy scene. Something was wrong. I looked down at the task bar, only to find a sequence of hideously chintzed up little icons. Then I saw it. The 'Safari' compass. This was not Windows. This was not even Linux.

This was a Mac. Having spent a few minutes trying to find my way around the thing, I have compiled a list of useful notes.

1. Beware: the exit, maximise and minimise are on the left, in the form of cute little traffic light circles.
2. If you are using a non-Apple keyboard, you have to press " to get an @ and alt-3 to get a #.
3. Macs are illimitably prettier than Windows computers.

Seeing the Mac and Microsoft sitting grudgingly side by side on my little desk called to mind that sweet little advertising war between them, where Mac tried to say PC's were boring and wore business suits, and that Macs were carefree and artistic and hippy. Then the ruthless return from Microsoft, in which they showed all kinds of ridiculously active and adventurous people scubadiving, mountain climbing, skydiving, and showing their support for PC's. 'I partake in extreme sport activities, therefore I carefully chose a PC as it suited my lifestyle choice. People who have PC's are colourful, impulsive, happy, pretty and thin. Screw you Apple.'
On a final note, I would like to let it be known that as I sit here typing this, I am using Microsoft, despite its inferior attractiveness, as the Mac couldn't even carry out a simple task and connect to the internet.

a tribute to Liberty prints

2010-02-28T19:03:00.007Z

But first, you'll hear about my day.
Imagine two scenarios that differ from your usual daily routine, and that you would rather not do. Combine them, with the added factor of complicated timing and stress. That was my almost logistically impossible day.
Liberty is an amazing department store in London with the best window displays you will have ever seen. But the best things about it, in my opinion, are the fabrics. I wish to utilize some for curtains in my new room.

And they're relatively cheap, for somewhere that charges £340 for a small pouff.

alive

2010-02-22T21:34:00.003Z

I went onto netaporter.com and clicked What's New and saw a lot of black; black shoes, black dresses, a black leather jewellery box. And I thought, why is there so much black? Is it so the rich people can pretend they are mourning for the late Scottish man? Out of curiosity I clicked Designers then Alexander Mcqueen so I could see what they'd said about them in the little suck up paragraph they make for all the designers. At the bottom there was the option, Sign up for Alexander Mcqueen updates, which I thought was very questionable.
The Topshop website's christmas sale is still going on, embarrassingly for them. Most of it's gone, except for the few disasters that no one could ever want, no matter how big the reduction. Like for instance, these delightful... sequinned... tapered.. trousers.

The funniest thing is that there were about 5 different colours of these, all competing to outlast eachother. It should teach them to not make so much shit. The excuse that it's Topshop doesn't work for everything.
Four good things:
1. Skins
2. The natural confectionary company sweets, red and pink only
3. Harrods
4. My new violin bow, it has a fucking crown on it.

Suicide: the latest fashion statement

2010-02-14T12:13:00.006Z

The death of Alexander McQueen has left me, not particularly grieving, but asking myself if a sudden influx of suicides will follow. Perhaps a small percentage of these will be due to sadness, etc. But the thought playing on my mind is that if the desire to follow fashion can prompt people to wear these:

...Then it knows no bounds.
Let us look back on a few Alexander McQueen pieces.

From the 'Highland Rape' collection.

Not entirely sure, but it's lovely etc...

And er, holy shit.

2010-02-06T18:02:00.004Z

Suddenly I want a chanel bag. I think it stemmed from my religious reading of fakekarl. They just look so soft and elegant and iconic.

I'd be happy with a replica, but the replicas are all bloody expensive anyway and half the fake designer bag sites have been shut down. 'A court ordered this domain name transferred to Loius Vuitton and Chanel.' Unnecessary, in my opinion, as it's not like they're losing any customers. Anyone trying to find a replica Chanel is not going to have the money to buy a real one.
While I'm at it, I rather fancy one of those nice chanel jackets too. One of the OAP ones, so I can make a hilarious ironic statement in my youth. And I might as well extend it to the quilted pumps; although Primark made a copy and now I associate them with being bent and dirty and skanky.
Talking of iconic Chanel, the No.5 perfume is disgusting. Not because it's too rich or spicy or old or whatever, but because it is urine. It looks like urine in the bottle, it sprays yellow onto the testing card, and it smells like piss. When I tried it in Debenhams I was seriously debating whether someone had emptied the bottle and actually weed in it. It's inconceivable how it could smell like anything resembling perfume.

It has a nice... label though.

oh, the shame

2010-01-29T19:56:00.008Z

Oh, the unimaginable, unspeakable, crying shame of putting your card in the wrong way round in the machine. And the shop guy having to take it out, personally, and turn it round.
I really love the British kind of interior design theme. Maybe it's because I'm secretly really patriotic, or because I hate my country and want to make an ironic statement, or because I just think it looks hot. It's probably important to stress that I mean the vintage, wartime theme; not the chavvy, football supporter theme.

2010-01-26T17:50:00.006Z

I used to roam asos.com and topshop.com etc, picking out things I liked and wanted to buy. Now that I actually have my card and can get stuff online, I can't find anything that I like. I haven't used it yet. I was tempted to use it for my quarter pounder and toffee crisp mcflurry in mcdonalds, but it wasn't special enough for my very first purchase.
Sheer boredom has forced me to start watching The Hills. It's incredibly tacky but I have to admit I would love that lifestyle. Wouldn't everyone? I'm also quite resentful of the main character because she's a total bimbo but she somehow got an internship at teen vogue. She doesn't deserve it! And she performed shitly at her interview.
I am sad and confused because American Apparel and Hollister seem to have discontinued or run out of things I wanted to buy.
The first thing is American Apparel's nail polishes. They are really ugly colours like grey, cream and mouse brown that are strangely appealing. Attempting to find a replacement, I tried OPI and found a yummy colour called melon of troy, which I can never have because I refuse to spend £10 on a nail varnish.
The other is Hollister's Laguna beach body spray, which has vanished from their website and apparently never existed. It is my all time favourite smell, as well as Diesel fuel for life, Benefit b-spot, and new text books.
Alas! maybe net-a-porter.com has some suitable things for me to buy online with my card? Like for instance this hilarious sequin dressing gown:

Alexander Mcqueen £7,360; apparently looks great with a bottega venata clutch. That has to be one amazing clutch, to make this, er, 'dress' look nice. Actually, I would like to amend my previous statement and point out that this is no sequin dressing gown; but in fact a vampire cloak.
Or, perhaps this coat.

If I were ~~gullible~~ fashionable, I would start to gush about its 'clean lines' and 'angles' and 'aesthetic.' In reality, it looks like an already lame coat that I smudged in photoshop and made lamer. I seriously wonder if designers even try anymore. Then again, they don't have to. They could produce anything and people would lap it up.

alterations

2010-01-21T18:13:00.005Z

You might remember the post in which I compared clothes from Topshop and missguided.co.uk. They were identical. Missguided.co.uk, the online boutique, does not design fashion - it simply makes convincing replicas of designs previously made. And why should it? I'm sure it makes a perfectly acceptable profit by ripping off half of Topshop's stock, and I doubt anyone is complaining that they can get a £50 dress for £25.
What about Topshop itself, and any other high street shop for that matter? Arguably, they don't design fashion either. With the exception of Topshop Unique, they are doing exactly what missguided.co.uk are. For example: observe this rather dashing Luella Maggie dress.

It may be £625, but never fear: French Connection have produced a remarkably similar dress for £75.

Admittedly, it differs far more than the dresses from the host of cheap online 'boutiques.' But invariably, this dress has been influenced by the Luella. This is only to be expected: the job of high street stores is to provide a means for the everyday human to wear the Herve Leger dress or the Balmain jeans, obviously with some of the detail and quality lost in translation.
I said that Topshop Unique was an exception to this. Why? Well, because it's a designer, just like Chloe or Versace. But do real 'designers' really design anything new? I would say no: it is rare or even impossible to see a completely new concept and creation. Every dress or top designed is simply an alteration on the general theme. Whether it's the quality of fabric used in the translation from Topshop to missguided, or an adjustment on colour or shape from Luella to French Connection, the majority of design stays the same, with a slight alteration along the way. The further you go up the class system of the fashion design industry, the greater these alterations become.

routine atheist rant

2010-01-18T20:09:00.004Z

Yep, it is time. I don't 'bow my head' to pray in assembly like we're asked. It's not because 'I shouldn't have to pray because I don't believe in God and you can't force me,' because to be honest it's not that big a deal for me. The reason is that I generally disagree with the idea of religion being integrated into schools. If you join a school that is specifically christian then that's fine by me, but my school isn't. It seems that all or most schools automatically assume a christian kind of character. In my opinion, religion should be a private thing, or something to be celebrated with others of similiar inclination - not something spread to largely unwilling masses of people. Surely by arguing with this sentiment you are condoning indoctrination?
Now that my routine and necessary atheist rant is over, I have something else to report. Today I massively took advantage of the system my school and probably other schools have: the way that crapness followed by improvement is rewarded more than consistent good performance.
We had netball, and I hate the way it's taught and genuinely enjoy pissing off the PE teachers, so I decided to be ridiculously crap. Then half way through I 'improved' and by pure luck I scored a goal (it didn't even touch the sides. This is a massive fluke, as 99% I miss ludicrously). And of course, I got a commendation. As well as having a deifying and hugely embarrassing speech dedicated to me at the end. NEVER in all the time I have played netball have I got a commendation, and I used to play better than I did today.
Epicfail.com is my new best friend cos it's fricking hilarious. Especially this.

it is spreading...

2010-01-17T15:37:00.004Z

I used to like Twilight, until it became mainstream and the lame 'Twi-hard' fans appeared, and they cast Cedric Diggory as Edward. Now you can hardly escape it. It plagues our cinema and TV screens, our magazines, our internet forums - and now, it seems, our makeup.

'Twilight Venom is not your typical DuWop venom. Instead of a gloss, Twilight Venom is a shimmering crimson lip stain suspended in a venom-laced liquid lip conditioner with a super potent bite (watch out!), and contains argan, avocado, olive oils and vitamin E.

This product should be shaken before use to represent the blending of the human and vampire worlds and applied repeatedly until lips are plumped, revitalized and the desired intensity of color has been reached.'
from www.shop.duwop.com
Lame. And it's £14.50 on asos.com. I would have expected it to be about a fiver, so all the little obsessed children can afford it - NOT SAYING ALL TWILIGHT FANS ARE OBSESSED CHILDREN BUT I THOUGHT THEY WOULD TARGET THE MAJORITY. The actual product looks quite cool; shame they had to ruin it.
But what do we have here?
http://twilightbeauty.com/
A TWILIGHT beauty brand. A TWILIGHT beauty brand. Which, I'm ashamed to say, has some rather nice stuff.

It's not cheap either, which gives at least the illusion of quality. Unless their revenue all goes into the ugly packaging, which would be ugly even without 'twilight' on it.

if there's one thing I'm good at, it's the eloquent destruction of noobs

2010-01-16T16:43:00.008Z

No. I won.
Oh and I'm not too sure about the showing names thing so I just blanked them out. Better safe than sorry! Har har.
Today we drove up to Midhurst to a violin shop to get me a new violin. The ones I tested ranged from £1000-£2300, none of which I was particularly impressed with, or thought lived up to my current £250 ebay one. The only positive change I noticed was that they were louder. But the sound didn't have any of the subtle qualities mine does. By process of elimination I ended up bringing one home for a week trial, and I have a suspicion it's the most expensive.
Anyhoo. You'll notice I just used 'but' at the beginning of a sentence, which is regarded as incorrect amongst, well, the same group of people who advocate using 'an' before a word beginning with 'h.' Which, if you ask me, is bullocks*.
I really hate charity shops. They remind me of depression and ageing, and the ones where I live seem to cater exclusively for OAP's. Luckily I realised that with Oxfam you can shop online and have the nice old vintage clothes delivered to your door, without the rotting books and pointless, worthless trinkets.
http://www.oxfam.org.uk/shop/
Unfortunately, most other large charities have nothing to compare with this, unless of course you wish to buy a few Christmas cards and a paw print RSPCA t-shirt.
* Due to comment I must point out this is supposed to be ironic. Maybe it was too subtle.

I have a confession to make

2010-01-14T21:18:00.005Z

I used to play missbimbo. Glad I got that off my chest.
I feel less motivated to do anything than I have ever felt before. Which is pretty bad timing because now is the time school actually starts getting mildly important. A few things have happened that have seriously adjusted my priorities, and I've realised just how little school matters.
Topshop are designing for the BBC's new production of Little House on the Prairie.

Emperor's new clothes. I feel like being cryptic. Oh wait, I kind of like this dress in a strange way.

Hey everyone! Don't waste £45 on this Topshop dress (top.) Get it from missguided.co.uk instead for £26.99, with the small sacrifice of having to wear it with an ugly belt that you aren't allowed to remove because it's sewn on.
Don't you just hate it when your dad accuses you of being big headed just because your pwning at Mario karts?

'unique' indeed.

2010-01-09T20:25:00.010Z

Topshop Unique. What is it exactly?
According to Topshop: an 'acclaimed in-house design collection.' And by browsing through a few online magazines I have found it to be generally well liked within the fashion community.
Hmm. Fair enough, but let's have a look at its previous collection. To pick a couple of shiners...

I'm sorry I had to do this to you, O viewer. They hurt my eyes too. Well if that hasn't caused your opinion of Topshop Unique to plummet then maybe this will.
Some stuff from the current collection:

And you haven't even seen the long, baggy, beaten up shorts with what I can only describe as ugly iron-on badges. 'Inspired by 70's surf culture,' apparently. So... is the fact that it's got a concept you might define as clever, and that the clothes look like they have been ripped to shreds by sharks supposed to make it good? Maybe I'm missing something. Dammit, why can't I just be 'fashionable' and agree with everything as if I'm straight out of The Emperor's New Clothes? 'Ours is not to reason why.'
I'm not being completely fair, I suppose. They did have about 2 nice things. But I had to root around to find them.
You'll notice I'm experimenting with layouts and backgrounds at the moment, and there will be ugliness. Don't judge me.

ORDERED.

2010-01-08T22:30:00.004Z

Got the shock of my life this morning: those shoes I've prattled on about so much I'm kind of bored of them were out of stock. ALREADY. But they were spontaneously in stock again a few minutes ago. So they are ordered!
I feel in the mood for some good old balanced analysis. Jack Wills seems to be emulating DFS. Everything is on sale. Maybe no one wants to buy their boring overpriced crap. Actually, that's slightly inaccurate. EVERYONE wants to buy their boring overpriced crap.
What is with that? I'm not going to say I don't get it because I do; it's a brand name blah blah blah. I'm in the minority, and I'm also a complete hypocrite because I just bought some Hollister leggings (we queued for half an hour to get in the actual shop so I needed to buy something or feel like a failure). Owning anything from Jack Wills is like a trophy, and the only reason I can possibly think of is because it's expensive. If it was £10 rather than £129 for a PLAIN BLACK CARDIGAN then it wouldn't be so popular. I don't care so much that brands like, er, Marc Jacobs are expensive, because at least the clothes have actual designs. What annoys me the most is that there is practically no variation in Jack Will's stock: I'm on the website now and all I can see is a few nondescript blobs of navy. I am going to liken their stock to porridge.
Occasionally I find myself dragged into the Jack Wills in Gunwharf. My routine is as follows: first, to stand like a displaced pet before the suspiciously expensive tracksuits, keeping my distance while I try to discern exactly how they can possibly be so expensive. Then once I feel more confident in my surroundings I begin to openly slag off the mounds of folded up porridge, perhaps attracting the attention of a shop assistant here and there, so skulking off to another location within the shop. At some point during the proceedings I may be distracted by the nice chaise longue with the Union Jack print. I will then sit on it and feel pretty cool. It is the one thing I like about Jack Wills. Apart from the thigh high socks, which I jolly want in every colour but don't see a feasible way of not looking like a tart with them on.
I actually went on polyvore.com today and I feel like a bit of a dick.
xxx

'Frozen Britain?' ...no, we just want to play.

2010-01-07T10:53:00.002Z

We've battled through wars... through terrorist attacks.... through an economic crisis and through public humiliation (lobster chavs at the euro football). But now, the whole infrastructure of Britain is falling apart. Because it snowed.
In the words of Winston Churchill, 'We shall fight snow on the seas and oceans, we shall fight snow with growing confidence, we shall fight snow on the hills, we shall never surrender, even if our gritting lorries themselves come to a pathetic halt before a 10 inch mound of snow and leave our roads ungritted.'
Mine, my brother's and my sister's schools were closed yesterday, even when most people were perfectly able to get there. My mum's work closed. So did thousands of schools and businesses throughout the country. The newsreaders are trying to credit this bit of unpleasant weather with the headlines 'Frozen Britain' and 'Severe ice causes disruption!' But it's all exagerration. The real reality of the situation is that we haven't had snow like this for years and everyone wants to play. On BBC news, they were interviewing people on the streets. The general impression I got was: 'Oh, yeah, the snow's terrible, the schools and the business, disruption, yeah... but have you seen my EPIC snowman?!??! We haven't had snow like this in EFFING YEARS! Watch my on my makeshift toboggan! - It's the, er, only means I have to get to work. Ahem.'
As I went on the computer this morning and mechanically ended up on the topshop website, I was pleasantly surprised to find that these shoes are back in stock.

Now I just have to hope that my debit card and PIN arrive before they sell out again..

dejavu....♠♠♠♠♠♠

2010-01-06T19:52:00.009Z

First of all, to the apparently random spades in the title. I pressed a button on my mouse and they appeared. TALK ABOUT SERENDIPITY!
Hey, I wonder if those cheapie chavy online 'boutiques' have started designing their own clothes?

Below: 'Celina oversized jumper in grey,' £29.99, missguided.com. Well well well...

Topshop panda jumper. Obviously not then...

It gets worse.
'Damini Sheer Dress With Stud & Mirror Detail,' £46.99, missguided.com

Christopher Kane for Topshop dress, £85.

And Topshop is not the only victim.
Rare stud dress.

'Fiona Sleveless Dress With Stud Detail,' £26.99, missguided.com

And I HAVE this exact same dress down to every last detail, but it was definitely not £15 from boohoo.com. (newlook infact.)

And I have no idea who designed this originally, but both missguided.com and nacdesigns.com have kindly provided me with a version.
'Astrid Dress With Stud Detail In Black,' £24.99 missguided.co.uk

Image is broke-de-broke on nacdesigns.com, but here is the link. It looks identical, if you must know.
images from: missguided.com; starstyleinc.com; mtblog.teenvogue.com; boohoo.com; nacdesigns.com; polyvore.com

epiphany

2010-01-04T13:38:00.008Z

It's all so clear to me now!

http://www.lipstickqueen.com/product_frame.htm

My last post was a babbled mess about wanting perfect red lips.

ROSE. PINK. Screw red, LOL HOW LAST CENTURY
Pure, floral, non-blue, browny rose. And it must be from Lipstick Queen. I'm determined to go up to Chichester where the nearest Space NK apothecary is and instruct the assistants to help me find the perfect shade, whether it's Saint (sheer), Sinner (matte) or any of the other glosses and pencils it has to offer. Oh and did I mention it has to be rose. Or maybe coral? Berry?

Look:

You'll notice there are an obscene amount of roses here, most in colours I suspect are impossible. Forget them all except the 4th and 5th on the top row: those are my dream. Is that even rose colour? Or is it more peachy coral...? Pahhh.

My new blog colours are a reflection of my love for that type of pink, whatever it is. I photoshopped a new title, it's sexy no? The pink on white reminds me of a candy cane or something. And the brush I used to underline looks a bit like it was drawn with lipstick, appropriate eh? (EDIT 21:16 - it really doesn't.)
Found an uber-useful blog, karlasugar.blogspot.com, I don't know how she did it but she has managed to get nice juicy big swatches of every (?) lipstick queen product on her arm! It gives a far better idea of what the colours actually look like. Even more useful is totalbeauty.com, there are reviews for TONNES of hair, makeup and skin products by 'REAL PEOPLE LIKE YOU AND ME.'
Finally, I'm faced with a wee bit of a dilemma. I stumbled through totalbeauty.com onto a site called strawberrynet.com, and it sells expensive makeup brands like benefit, mac and stila at jolly good discounts. Not all brands have discounts though. SO the first thing I noticed when I went on the site was how ugly it was, and how it shouted FREEEE at me from every corner. Obviously I don't trust it too much at this point, so I googled it to find out if it sold genuine products. Loads of forums, like the Vogue Australia one, had people insisting the products were real, and that they'd ordered from there loads. Hooowweeverr, some people said that they had talked to beauty assistants at salons and stuff, and they'd said they sold fakes. But I thought: the existance of strawberrynet.com would reduce the sales of mainstream companies that sell the products more expensively. So...
I also heard suspicious reports like - 'I ordered a designer face cream twice; first time it was blue, second time white.'
But the thing that clinches it for me is the fact that the company is based in Hong Kong. In a completely un-racist way, I don't trust companies from China and that area that sell brand names, because I know they have a reputation for making almost undistinguishable replicas. So I'll have to live without my discounted Benefit You Rebel Lite :(
(tinted moisturizer I am rather interested in, not least because the tube is huuge)

perfect red lips

2010-01-03T18:43:00.001Z

At the moment I’m obsessed with lipstick. I don’t actually have any though; I just threw away my red Rimmel because the screwing up and down got screwed up (HAHA). Oh wait I have a really cheap brown lipstick which is fugly.

I have no idea what colour to get. Apparently there are blue reds, orange reds and london bus reds. It’s epically confusing. I’m also considering a rose, berry or corally colour. If I get red it has to be matte because shiny is for homos and wusses.

I’ve googled ‘lipstick shade finder’ about a million times and have learnt many pearls of wisdom. I even ended up on KIM KARDASHIAN’S BLOG. But the thing I mainly discovered is that it’s more complicated than you can possibly imagine. Not even bold or italic could convey the sheer gravity of that statement so I didn’t bother.

Revlon and Maybelline, I found, have a semi-useful lipstick online shade finder. But they are limited to light, medium or dark skin tones, and about 5 eye colours. Therefore my results are about 60 different shades.

Anyway here’s the list.

http://www.maybelline.com/mca/index.aspx

http://www.revlon.com.au/pages/super-lustrous-lipstick-shade-finder

http://www.realbeauty.com/skin-makeup/how-to/lips/best-red-lipstick-shade

http://www.womenshealthmag.com/beauty-and-style/beauty-product-tips

2010-01-01T22:43:00.000Z

Normally I could pretty much guarantee that a school day entitled 'Aspire' was going to be painfully patronising. For the most part it was, but there was one lecture that made up for it completely. He was a man talking about critical thinking and the need for scepticism, which I totally agree with. But the highlight was, without a doubt, when he commented on the way that news programs seem to be constantly asking people to text in with their opinions. He declared that 'most people's opinions are rubbish.' I applaud his originality and failure to stick to the typical 'everyone's opinion matters' drawl, because not everyone's opinion matters. Some people's opinions are diabolical, and all I have to do to prove this is to refer you to a site known as 'Youtube.' Click on any video and read some of the comments, and then you will agree with me.

look what I bought

2009-12-31T15:06:00.004Z

From 'Toppers' (I gladly kill people who actually say it like that). It makes me look like an anorexic victorian, although my hands barely fit through the ludicrously un-stretchy sleeves. I like it though. Oh and for some reason I bought some slashed Hollister leggings in the sale... I think I was hallucinating.

This epitomises my grandad.

just no

2009-12-30T19:00:00.013Z

Willow
Pleated bodice dress

I know what you're thinking. 'How did they manage to find such a vast cockroach?'
It is indeed mind blowing. And not often that you see such an innovative approach to dress making.

Vivienne Westwood Anglomania
Plaid print band mini skirt

Poor skirt. It realised it was ugly checked and pleated like I must have worn when I was 9, and somehow deviated off to the right in a panic.

Burberry
Cashmere hooded top

Oh dear Burberry... Just because it's cashmere (and £350) doesn't disguise the fact that it's a really chavvy and cheap looking hoodie.

...And net-a-porter.com apparently make no attempt to change my opinion.

Alexander McQueen
Leaf-crepe harem pants

These are just perfect. Now every time I take a shit in my trousers, no one will know.

AND ALSO...
The most overpriced items in the world:

Christopher Kane £175

Jonathan Saunders £185

Helmut Lang £155

It's a feckin t-shirt.

Fringe

2009-12-24T13:02:00.004Z

since i got a fringe a shockwave has spread throughout the world. yes, it was definitely caused by me.

The model from lacoste love of pink advert

Keira Knightly (8 months before i got mine but still.)

Katy Perry

Alexandra Burke

Lady Gaga

The model in the toni & guy electrical advert in my magazine. No picture available.

Need I go on?

Shopping list

2009-12-23T19:22:00.006Z

In the weeks leading up to christmas I have forbidden myself from making any purchases, despite the fact that I have a small fortune of £100 sitting in my purse (earned through professional violin playing friend). This is for two reasons; the first being that I don't want to risk buying something someone else has already got for me, and the second being that I want to starve myself of retail therapy in order to make christmas more exciting - although I could have sworn that that goes completely against the spirit of christmas...
Anyway, during these non-spendy weeks, I have made a mental note of things I randomly see and want and am going to buy on boxing day (or not quite so soon). But obviously, a mental note is nowhere near as good as a real note, and who wouldn't want to read my shopping list?

1 - Redken Glass 01 smoothing serum

From the moment it was featured in some magazine I happened to be reading ages ago, I have been intrigued by this product, being a fan of the 'Professional' haircare brand Redken. Somewhere along the line intrigue turned into want-to-buy. The thing that clinched it was seeing a model with a top knot in a magazine. Her hair looked soft, shiny, and tamed. I thought 'hey, I bet Redken Glass 01 could do that.' So there you go.

2 - Some wardrobe basics (sorry for sounding so disgustingly cliche)

In er, peachy colours, apparently.
From left: Topshop, £14; Topshop, £10; Topshop, £14;

3 - Some more True Blood books

My guilty pleasure. Not particularly well written but very plot driven and I fancy Eric (not explaining, read them to understand/watch the eps). I'm up to Definitely Dead and these two are next...

4 - Lipstick Queen Lipsticks

If you've never heard of her, just google lipstick queen. Poppy King only does lipsticks because she loves lipstick. Saints are 10% pigment, Sinners 90%. I'm considering Sinner in red or rose. I'm also intrigued (intrigue has won me over once again) by 'Black tie optional' a lipstick that looks literally black, but gives a berry sheen.

5 - Grey cable tights

The ones I want are actually River Island, but I couldn't get the image of them. I wanted some grey ribbed tights (specifically) a few months ago, but I got side tracked and got some wacky horizontal stripe ones from Topshop instead (imagine some kind of rugby outfit). Now the desire has resurfaced.

6 - Tassle loafers

Brown or black. The ones pictured are Topshop, but at £50 I don't think so. I haven't found any suitable ones yet, but then again neither have I looked very hard. My mum had a classic black pair from Russel and Bromley, but the time came and passed in which I could fit into them (she's a size 3), and I wasn't interested back then. I intend to wear them with my grey ribbed tights!

7 - These beauties

These shoes (Topshop £30) are in fact art. My emotions are a mixture of enchantment at their sheer loveliness, shock at their humble price for all those pearls, and wistfulness at their current out-of-stock status.

Well that's about it, I think. I mentioned earlier about how a real note is better than a mental one, so of course I'm bound to have forgotten some of the things on my list. I won't dare to add up the prices of all the things on my list, because I don't want to find out for sure that I can't afford it all, but inevitably it will be too much. Dayyyyumn.
x

i hate certain aspects of fashion

2009-12-23T12:33:00.002Z

Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.
Oscar Wilde.
I couldn't agree more. To illustrate this quotation, I will provide you with some images of various fashion trends that define the word 'ugly.'

Peg leg pants/harems/ankle grazers

I would recommend any of these if you wish to:
- Shorten and fatten your legs
- Wear unsightly and oddly shaped trousers which crease and bulge in peculiar places
- Create the illusion of a very low down pregnant bulge
- Look like a douche.

Fur gilets (especially black ones)

Great for looking like a gorilla.

Jumpsuits

Baggy, manly, builderish. Ugly.

Whatever the hell this is

£25, Topshop.

So one aspect of fashion I hate is the ugliness and blatant disregard for the female figure displayed in some of its creations.
Another aspect I hate: the way some people put together the most vile 'pieces,' look like a blemange or a general douche and are then called fashionable. Hey, anyone can do it: simply pair a knee length bright floral skirt with a paint splatted velvet crop, add a faux fur belt, some jacquard leggings, and, say, a purple fascinator. Not forgetting, of course, some faded brown scruffy lace ups and grey pulled up ankle socks. How artistic; how, creative and daring yet beautiful? Troll through pretty much every single fashion blog in the world or lookbook etc, and you will find versions of this. But hey, fashion isn't about looking good in clothes! It's about - looking shit...?
On another note, here are some good things I have stumbled upon today that made me feel happy.
- California Select's ebay store. Ignoring the £8 postage
- Oxfam online - actual nice vintage stuff you can get online
- These lovelies from Topshop:

- sold out in my size, weep :(

x

gay fashion designers = skinny models

2009-12-22T19:02:00.004Z

The whole debate about size zero models and shit. ok, i admit that sometimes the sizes of the catwalk models can get extreme, but most of the time it's just fat people moaning. 'Real women have curves!' yawn. There's a facebook group about something along those lines, comprised of cellulitey images and discriminating insulting statuses about how skinny girls look gross in shorts - 'yuk!' Most of its members are probably overweight women trying to feel better about their 'curves' by being more vicious to thin people than the fashion industry/media etc. has ever been to the, ahem, plus sized.
So I was on an intelligent, witty and educated website today called dailymail.co.uk, when I saw this article: 'Plus-size Crystal Renn takes on a typically slim model to prove fashion CAN flatter any figure.' I laughed when I discovered that, in fact, it CAN'T.

Size 0

Size 16

The size zero looks better. I find these two images are the best for comparison, as it's plain to see that the high waisted skirt just makes the size 16 look dumpy. It's also too short for her and is borderline tacky - surely they gave them two different clothes sizes? On top of that, her legs look chunky and the ankle socks just shorten them. But the size 0 has the other extreme: her legs look long but far too thin and bony.
One model is too thin. The other is overweight. Why does it have to be anorexic or size 16? Surely slender yet healthy 8-10 (UK) models are the best of both worlds? Problem solved by Fay.
I liked it when Mark Fast used a couple of 10-12 models along with his conventional ones at his catwalk show. They fitted the clothes just as well as the skinnier models, and you didn't have to worry about them snapping or collapsing.
The title of my post sums up my (dad's) theory of why models are getting so skinny. It's because most fashion designers are gay men. Size 0 models are not shapely, they are straight-up-and-down. They don't have boobs and bums. Neither do men. Therefore gay men, who fancy men, would consider size 0 more beautiful than bigger sizes. I can't imagine how it would be women who fabricated this stick thin ideal, as it's pretty obvious how much they are now all protesting about it.

last day (reblog)

2009-12-21T20:33:00.000Z

school finished for christmas last friday, and we had a non uniform day. there was in fact no point of us going to school that day at all, as we didn’t do anything except eat and watch people humiliate themselves. obviously most people failed to dress for the weather, which was freezing. Oh, except some of the year above, who were trying to outdo eachother by being the most daring and creative on the ‘winter accessories’ front (furry hats). I passed chewbacca on the way to the locker room.

our living room is looking ludicrously christmassy. my mum seems to have got carried away and put christmas lights on our ugly leafy plant, and decorating our stair bannister with a complex tinsel and baubel structure. I for one have spent many stressful nights arranging our early arrived presents under the pathetic 2ft tree: achieving the right balance between big and small, wrapping colour, and recipient of present. It’s tough.

Luckily everyone seems to have recovered from the tragic advent calender realisation - we tried to buy a calender so late that there were no average ones left and we ended up with a picture one (it, er, glows in the light) and some sort of advent ‘crackers’ shit. My attempt at creating a revolutionary calender out of an egg box failed. I’m going to watch dollshouse now.

dilemmas

2009-12-18T22:29:00.003Z

Dilemma 1:
I'm such a sheep. I started blogspot of my own accord, i.e. found it without the influence of my schoolfriends. But I was, in fact, copying people after all, as I was writing shallow, pointless drones of fashion shit I'm not even interested in cos i thought it would get me famous. So i switched to stuff I actually care about (see my later posts.) Yet, as is the way with me, I got borrrreed. Ignored the voices in my head saying 'you need a blog to be a journalist..' and 'it will help you get into CAMBRIDGE!' - and tuned out.

Few weeks later (every day of those being guiltily reminded of my little blog, usually followed by at least 10 seconds worth of debating whether to go back), I log on to facebook late at night and guess what I see... 'blah blah blah blah blah.tumblr.com' says someone's status. What's this? I think. Someone else... someone else got a blog? I hesitantly followed the link and honestly, I was pretty impressed. So of course, with glittering starry eyes I join tumblr - dutifully, almost robotically.

It's a bit shit. But then other sheep like me get one and try to act all vintage and chic. Multitudes more appear on facebook every day: the minute I log on I'm bombarded with random french-named wannabe tumblrs (mine's called lavenacava: it's latin so it doesn't count). So i'm kind of not impressed with tumblr and am henceforth returning to blogspot, where i belong. But tumblr or blogspot, they're both still blogs.

And the moral of the story is, I was too meek to advertise and display my blog before everyone else slowly began to cotton on. Now, if I post my little tuppenceworth of a blog on facebook, people will roll their eyes. They will roll their eyes and they will snort and they will sigh. 'Another one,' they will think as they sharpen up their stabbing knife, rightfully so.

Therefore, either my blog will remain hidden for ever, or return when all the fad has died down, as a late, stale, slow old man, which is probably worse.

Dilemma 2:

Going back to the fact that I have two blogs. I have two blogs. What a weird, surreal and unfair situation to be in. It means if I post something on one, it can never grace the pages of the other. However I have a very excellent solution: I will simply copy and paste my good tumblr posts, of which there are about 2, and put them in some artistic format like italics to let you know they have been resurrected from the graveyard.

'There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.'

2009-10-25T20:06:00.003Z

Fantastic. When I heard about the atheist bus campaign back in January I jumped for joy.
Isn't it great? And isn't religion shit?
I wish I could have been a part of the 4,680 atheists that donated £5 to run the advert (see this article, and while you're there, read the comments: I found them delightfully intelligent and engaging). It was in response to a previous Christianity advert, leading the population to a website which tells them they will face torment in hell if they don't convert.
I am an atheist, and as much as I enjoy it I believe arguing the existence of God is pointless. It will get you nowhere. Because your opponents have 'faith,' and, well, 'faith' is above logic. It is IMMUNE to argument.
Thus, we must target the agnostics: these wondering, pondering, floating masses. Imagine it: the theists and the atheists in a furious race to recruit the 'neutrals.'
Richard Dawkins didn't consider this, and turned into a blithering angry man preaching atheism to bloody bishops. - Not gonna work. I love that he's trying, but with all due disrespect it's getting embarrassing. He's not exactly the image that I would like to represent atheists.
On a final note, I would like to express my hatred for the way that religion is forced upon children in schools practically before they're toilet trained. It's just bloody unfair. Everyone deserves a chance to make up their own mind before they're brainwashed one way or another.
Thankyou.

Climate change my arse

2009-10-11T17:00:00.003+01:00

No. I'm not going to turn off the standby light on my television. No, I'm not sitting in a pitch black or freezing cold classroom at school. And no, I'm not going to purchase solar panels to put on the roof of my house.
I think it's about time someone told the blunt truth about climate change. And to help me are the good old BBC news website. Browsing the website today, I found the article: 'What happened to global warming?' and it proved to be an excellent starting point for this post. The article states 'The warmest year recorded globally was not in 2008 or 2007, but in 1998. [...] For the last 11 years we have not observed any increase in global temperatures.'
What's that? So - hold on: the earth ISN'T actually getting warmer right now? That surprised me. With all the fuss about global warming, no matter how pathetically trivial, I would of at least thought it was actually HAPPENING. What's important is that my surprise came with no hint of relief. To be relieved about something you need to have been worried first.
Fact: climates change. The earth's temperatures have been fluctuating for as long as it has existed - there was an ice age, for god's sake - and somehow I don't think that was caused by car exhausts.
Short of going back to living life like we did 300 years ago, there's nothing we can do that could remotely change the environment. And believe me, you're going to be hard pushed to find ANYONE that would give up so much, no matter how much they care about polar bears and shit.
Goverments' climate change policies don't DO anything; they weren't designed to DO anything. They were designed to make people feel like they're being beneficial, to keep people happy. Recycling? - On too small a scale to do anything, and always will be. A tiny, tiny percentage of what you recycle is really used for anything worth it.
Solar panels? - Utterly crap, terribly inefficent, end of.
Turning the lights off? - When public buildings such as schools and the like urge you to turn the lights off when you leave a room, the last thing they're concerned about is the environment.
Heating? - See above.
Standby lights? - Don't you DARE try and tell me that leaving that pathetic little orange light on my TV on is going to kill a polar bear. I WILL strangle you.
Do you want to hear about a real issue? We could feed the world on the food that is thrown away BEFORE it even reaches the supermarkets.
Debate THAT. Unless of course, you're still too busy raving about dying polar bears to focus on dying children.
'timeforchange.org' would, of course, disagree.
'The main cause of global warming is in mankind's attitude to Nature.'
Sure, sure. Oh and also, WTF? That's not even a proper cause. The second I see the word 'nature' written with a capital letter, the culprit loses all credibility it may once have had, and I run a mile whilst doing my sceptical eyebrow raised face that I practice viciously.
I'll leave you with this. Think of the sheer vastness and massiveness of the sun. The sun heats our planet, rememember? Now think of switching off a lightbulb in your home.
Trust me, although you might think that's helping at all, you cannot compete with the sun. And (excuse my nonscientificness) if the sun wants to intensify and make our planet hotter, there's nothing we can do to save ourselves. END OF.

Thankyou for listening. You may want to know my opinions on other ethical issues, and my attitude to animals *stifled laugh*. If so, then let me know you're interested and leave a comment, or follow me. Right now I'm thinking 'screw fashion for the time being.' But once I've had the chance to have a nice old topshop trolley dash (I wish), who knows what will happen.

I think my hit counter has malfunctioned.

2009-09-10T18:10:00.008+01:00

VERY relieved to have completed English essay. ANYWAY the other day I checked my hit counter, and as usual it had a low number of 45 or so, most of which were made up of me. So how on earth does it now have over 10,000. Profile views still at a mere 30, still a mere 1 follower, still no new comments. Therefore I have ruled out the possibility of it being possible, and I'm putting it down to a malfunction of the hit counter.

School tomorrow.

2009-09-02T11:40:00.000+01:00

I'm going shopping soon so I can't write much. It's school tomorrow. I'm strangely looking forwards to it, but the holidays seem to have gone way too fast.
I'll leave you with some nice pictures of stuff I like.

-Markus Lupfer

- Vintage from absolute vintage

- Alexander Mcqueen

School Shoes

2009-08-30T18:58:00.001+01:00

School starts in 4 days. Do you know what that means? Normally that I'm about to be the proud owner of a pair of hideous shits. Or school shoes, just in case my clever metaphor was too subtle.
Not this time, however. For the first time in history, mine are actually quite ok. In fact, I seem to have ended up with two pairs.

The brogues are from Topshop and the other ones are from Schuh.
We started off at Schuh, then went to John Lewis, Next, even Barrats, and back to Schuh, where I eventually got them. My mother had previously turned them down on the grounds that they weren't practical (or too flat, or something), but by this time she was weakened and exhausted, so it was easier to persuade her. (I'm not a complete psycho/sociopath.)
I found comments such as 'The ones in here are very ugly as opposed to completely hideous, I spose' to be quite handy when used with impeccable timing. Because if I didn't deploy my wonderful rhetoric skillage, I would have ended up with vile, chunky, fussy shoes.Shoes for pampered children with over protective parents. Shoes with STABILIZERS. STRAIGHT JACKET shoes. You get the message. But i want to have hardcore shoes. Shoes that shout, 'I'm damaging my feet and am too poor to afford sturdy shoes, but I'm way too hardcore to care.'
SO ANYWAY. When we got home, my mum started to regret her decision. I could see where she was coming from. I mean, these shoes weren't disgusting. She hadn't done her job properly. So she offered to get me a second pair, a slightly more practical pair. For the days when I'd have to do a lot of walking. I pointed out to her that I would never wear these 'practical shoes' if I had the option of wearing some nice shoes. But of course, maybe I could find a shoe that had both qualities... Practicality and style. I hesitated - was I aiming too high? Was I just setting myself up for my dreams to be shattered?
But in the end I got some pretty damn cool brogues.

I finally succombed.

2009-08-29T19:10:00.001+01:00

Yesterday I bought a dress from Hollister (or is it a top?). This is extremely unlike me.
It's not exactly mankind's boldest creation, this dress. It screams 'I'm preppy and can afford Hollister' (which I can't, really). After years of not allowing myself to become yet another follower of what is surely just a small seagull, I've finally blown it.
To tell the truth, those years may have been filled with wistful gazings at pretend shopping bags I created on abercrombie and fitch and jack wills - but every time, I pressed the small red cross at the top right of the screen. Because I was too good for them. By not pressing 'buy' I was maintaining the small ounce of individuality I had.
I'm not saying that the stuff is boring. It's just that it's too easy to be labelled well dressed or fashionable if you shop at a lable like Hollister. It's almost cheating: throw on a polo and wave the logo in everyone's face, and there you have it. Where's the challenge? I just don't like it (please note: my dislike is not in any way fuelled by resentment or jealousy).
It's not as if the dress was easy to obtain. This shop is pitch black. I have to squint to see the actual clothes, let alone the prices. Apparently it's their 'theme.' Pffft. Then there was the nauseatingly long queue. No, I literally went through hell for this dress that a billion people already have.
But why? Why did I buy this dress if I'm so opposed to the whole idea of brands like Hollister?
I didn't. My mum got it for me. We went in out of curiousity, she offered to get me something; and for god's sake, why would I say no? I love getting new things.
There we go. My beliefs and philosophies were totally trampled by my greed.
On the subject of Topshop, a sweater arrived today from there. It has SHOULDER PADS. Should be interesting. Oh yeah, I shop in Topshop. Surely that's not in the same category as Hollister. Is it...? ..Nah.