Just a little one, to say that I am entirely obsessed by Noritaka Tatehana's feathered wedge 'hummingbird' shoe. No idea how one would walk in it - I feel it would necessitate hand holding on either side. Surely worth it?
I tweeted about it the other day, and Noritaka tweeted back at me! I think he makes it his business to tweet back when his name is mentioned. But still. Smiley face.
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
#12
My blog posts are almost in their teens! Hope they don't start rebelling, overusing eyeliner and bunking off school. We're looking at you, Taylor Momsen.
Yesterday, twenty minutes from Kings Cross, I decided a bit of makeup application wouldn't go amiss. Had been as white as a sheet all day from being sleepy/having a pale face, and thought it a reasonable thing to do as I had to briefly pop into work, which has an image focus.
Imagine my surprise at being tapped on the shoulder by a slightly rotund male, I'd say circa 35, with a cap with 'Barcelona' emblazoned all over it like some sort of lurid verbal festoon, and those mirrored sunglasses...not an ultra-cool aviator style pair, but those plastic ones your brother had when you were little - slightly orange tint on the mirror. So, Mr. Mirror taps me on the shoulder and, I kid you not, this is what went down;
Man; "excuse me, did you do chemistry in school?"
Me; "yes..."
Man; "you're ruining nature's gift"
Me; "sorry...what?"
Man; "you're ruining nature's gift...makeup is fucking disgusting"
Me; "well..I like it. So I'm going to keep putting it on"
Man; "you'll wake up in 20 years covered in spots"
Me; "that's fine. I live for now, and right now I want to put this on my face"
AND THIS IS ALL BIZARRE...BUT WAIT
Man; "was that a Californian twang?"
Me; "what?"
Man; "if you want to live in a plastic world, maybe you should move to California"
And I got a bit petulant and said (in my best adolescent voice, might I add)
"MAYBE I WILL".
And thus ended the dialogue. Very strange. Cue sympathetic looks from women around me, and sideways glances at the outspoken male.
It DID get me thinking about how many products I use. Not that I, in any way, have any intention of cutting down my use of products. I love them, creams that smell nice and tanning products that help me look less albino. I simply have no complaints.
So, reader, have a grainy phone picture of my bathroom shelf, and join me in lamenting the fact that there's an empty shelf above. Might nip out to Boots, actually.
beijos
Yesterday, twenty minutes from Kings Cross, I decided a bit of makeup application wouldn't go amiss. Had been as white as a sheet all day from being sleepy/having a pale face, and thought it a reasonable thing to do as I had to briefly pop into work, which has an image focus.
Imagine my surprise at being tapped on the shoulder by a slightly rotund male, I'd say circa 35, with a cap with 'Barcelona' emblazoned all over it like some sort of lurid verbal festoon, and those mirrored sunglasses...not an ultra-cool aviator style pair, but those plastic ones your brother had when you were little - slightly orange tint on the mirror. So, Mr. Mirror taps me on the shoulder and, I kid you not, this is what went down;
Man; "excuse me, did you do chemistry in school?"
Me; "yes..."
Man; "you're ruining nature's gift"
Me; "sorry...what?"
Man; "you're ruining nature's gift...makeup is fucking disgusting"
Me; "well..I like it. So I'm going to keep putting it on"
Man; "you'll wake up in 20 years covered in spots"
Me; "that's fine. I live for now, and right now I want to put this on my face"
AND THIS IS ALL BIZARRE...BUT WAIT
Man; "was that a Californian twang?"
Me; "what?"
Man; "if you want to live in a plastic world, maybe you should move to California"
And I got a bit petulant and said (in my best adolescent voice, might I add)
"MAYBE I WILL".
And thus ended the dialogue. Very strange. Cue sympathetic looks from women around me, and sideways glances at the outspoken male.
It DID get me thinking about how many products I use. Not that I, in any way, have any intention of cutting down my use of products. I love them, creams that smell nice and tanning products that help me look less albino. I simply have no complaints.
So, reader, have a grainy phone picture of my bathroom shelf, and join me in lamenting the fact that there's an empty shelf above. Might nip out to Boots, actually.
beijos
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
#11
Hello again!
Writing through a Swedish router (again) as I yo-yo back down the country to our capital, once more. Happy to have spent two lovely weekends in Newcastle, weather was good and abundance of friends even better. Trying not to step on anybody's toes on the train - quite literally. Long legs and short leg room. The poor woman opposite me.
Bit more serious than normal - sickened by the news about Gaza. Not as sickened as my Dad, who cannot seem to stomach listening to Israeli 'apologists' on the radio.
Trying to muster up the motivation to finish the work I've started, so that I can properly enjoy my Summer. Plans include Festival Internacional de Benicássim, possibly a short trip abroad somewhere else and my 21st Birthday, the Monday before Notting Hill carnival! Excited as I've never been. A little trip to Paris might be on the cards, too. Funds permitting.
Having been at home I am now, of course, laden with food. My Dad gets notoriously stressed out about missing trains (which I think I have only done once in my life) and even though we were cutting it fine, his insistence to ply me with a deli made sandwich overcame his jumpy desire for me to arrive 50 minutes before my train, and he made sure I was being fed. Parma ham and sundried tomatoes, made by the slowest sandwich maker North of the Tyne (which, as you can imagine, added to my Father's already twitch-inducing worry). Made the train, and zooming into Darlington as we speak.
That's all for now. My beautiful little Lomo Diana camera is coming on Thursday and after that I imagine I'll be much more productive with my visual aids. Until then, enjoy Ghost Town by The Specials*, as I shall do whilst tanned and tipsy at Benicássim.
*I'd have linked, but the train doesn't want me on youtube. Bad sport.
beijos
Writing through a Swedish router (again) as I yo-yo back down the country to our capital, once more. Happy to have spent two lovely weekends in Newcastle, weather was good and abundance of friends even better. Trying not to step on anybody's toes on the train - quite literally. Long legs and short leg room. The poor woman opposite me.
Bit more serious than normal - sickened by the news about Gaza. Not as sickened as my Dad, who cannot seem to stomach listening to Israeli 'apologists' on the radio.
Trying to muster up the motivation to finish the work I've started, so that I can properly enjoy my Summer. Plans include Festival Internacional de Benicássim, possibly a short trip abroad somewhere else and my 21st Birthday, the Monday before Notting Hill carnival! Excited as I've never been. A little trip to Paris might be on the cards, too. Funds permitting.
Having been at home I am now, of course, laden with food. My Dad gets notoriously stressed out about missing trains (which I think I have only done once in my life) and even though we were cutting it fine, his insistence to ply me with a deli made sandwich overcame his jumpy desire for me to arrive 50 minutes before my train, and he made sure I was being fed. Parma ham and sundried tomatoes, made by the slowest sandwich maker North of the Tyne (which, as you can imagine, added to my Father's already twitch-inducing worry). Made the train, and zooming into Darlington as we speak.
That's all for now. My beautiful little Lomo Diana camera is coming on Thursday and after that I imagine I'll be much more productive with my visual aids. Until then, enjoy Ghost Town by The Specials*, as I shall do whilst tanned and tipsy at Benicássim.
*I'd have linked, but the train doesn't want me on youtube. Bad sport.
beijos
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