Truly great photographs like the one above don't just happen, you know. To misquote the great Dolly Parton, it takes a lot of time and effort to look this half-arsed. And you can't expect The Talent (that's me, obv) to just stand around trying out different hand positions all day. I've got people to see, places to go, Pens to Do. So in these...
1. Belatedly notice that all the cool kids are wearing friendship bracelets. Decide you must have one immediately. 2. Go to John Lewis (other haberdasheries are available) and buy bumper pack of budget embroidery thread because you're too cheap to splash out on the good stuff. 3. Spend three days deciding which colours to use. 4. Realise you spent so long choosing colours that...
Okay, team. Remember my great yellow skirt hunt? And the red jeans obsession? Well, you lot were so good at sending me suggestions - too good, in fact, which is why I ended up having to give one skirt away - that when my friend emailed me with a genuine fashion quandary, I decided to throw it out to you guys. There's...
Most bloggers will tell you that comments matter. And if they don't, they're probably lying. In fact, I would go so far as to say they matter more than anything; more than visitor numbers, or pageviews, or sponsorship deals (a girl can dream) or any other arbitrary measure you might apply to a blog's so-called success. I love getting comments so much that I...
And considerably more willpower than me. I would never have made it past the AT-AT's feet. Who's having pancakes for tea then? I use the pancake batter mix from my trusty old Be-Ro recipe book. My mum has an ancient copy, all floury and falling to pieces. Mine is new (only £2.50!), but it's degenerating at an alarming pace. Probably due to my habit of dropping...
(Alternative title: I Finally Found the Cable For My Camera) It started off grey. Low-lying clouds drifted up from the valley, seeping between the trees and into our bones. We moved carefully through the murky half-light, our bodies slowly remembering how to do this thing. All was well, for the first two hours. Then came a phone call, tears, an ambulance. Sa clavicule,...
On Sunday, I went to Blook Club. Smidgen came too, even though she hadn't read the book (tut tut). ...
FIN [approximately ten minutes after returning from the supermarket]: Oh, I got you flowers, by the way. They're on the kitchen table. ME: Oh! Thanks! F: They're carnations. ME: Great! Thanks! F: Do you like carnations? ME: Yeah, they're my favourite! [They're not, but he is, so.] F: They're my favourite too. ME: Oh, really? F: Yeah. [Pause] F: They're really cheap. So I guess romance...
If I hadn't already done the maths last year, I'm not sure I would have believed this was our tenth Valentine's Day together. Ten? Already? Fuck. We are old. Happy Valentine's Day, Finster. I love you more than Smidgen loves sleeping. (A lot.) Print from Not on the High Street. I wanted to get Fin this card, but I couldn't bring myself to...
"So, what should we play?" my friend asks, as the door to the mysterious grown-up world of coffee and gossip swings firmly shut behind our mothers. We are at her house. I, therefore, am a guest. We all know the golden rule, the one unbreakable commandment that spills in urgent whispers from our mothers' lips in that final moment before the doorbell rings. The rule...
And now I feel almost human again. I might even be sufficiently recovered to tell you about my freezing, flu-ridden, wonderful holiday sometime, if you're interested. Generally speaking, I find reading or hearing about other people's travels excruciatingly dull but, obviously, my own are endlessly fascinating. Much like children, I imagine. Or like sick leave! Everyone wants to hear about what I've been...
I'll go first. 1. It was -21°C where we were in the French Alps on Saturday. MINUS TWENTY-ONE DEGREES. Otherwise known as Too Fucking Cold. 2. The hypothetical farm wedding is no longer hypothetical! Blonde Bridesmaid is getting married! Woohoo! (On which topic, if anyone else ordered Meg's book on Amazon UK and keeps getting emails from them bleating on about delays and...
