Have been doing a whole lot recently. Frantically making bloody terrible clothing, running around drinking gin, wearing black & orange snakeskin. I've embraced my white/grey appearance and have stopped wearing blush or bronzer and have started brushing black on my cheekbones, I love how dramaticly dead I look when I accidentialy catch my reflection on a car door. Or I run into one on my bike.
Which is now pink, with white tyres!
Some lovely girl was talking to me today about how shit the world of blogs has gotten, and I suppose bar Tavi, Nicola Formichetti & Sea of Shoes I have stopped the insanity amount of blog-stalking that used to occur too. They've all moulded into one shit lame version of Vogue (not that Vogue is bad, but it already exists, and they do it good), but blogs are just updated quicker....so fuck it. This blog is now officially about nothing, Im not even going to try and act interesting.
I feel like melting in sweet warm rose cheeks and inner giggles in my fluctuating tummy-----> time stands still when I am near you
The world is even more colourful