Happy happy days, fellas! I'm back with more mind-numbingly awful outfit posts and late night special ramblings, glad much? No? Yeah, thought not.
I've been a bit balls for the past couple of days, which hopefully goes some way towards accounting for my substandard entries of late. You see, I've 'suffered' (I hate that word FYI, it sounds so self-indulgent and 'poor me' but I couldn't think of another appropriate verb) a spate of panic attacks recently which have left me jittery as hell, reluctant to leave the house unless it's totally neccessary and, well, panicked. This should provide a suitable explanation as to why I look like I've got wind in most of the photo's below. I didn't (honest), I was just having a little trouble breathing and was a tiny bit terrified at my body having it's own little nervy spaz-out and being totally unable to control it. Message to body: stop being a prick.
Whining over, here's the finished collar I made out of my faux-fur scraps the other day! Oli hates it - he says it makes me look like a shit clown - but I'm bloody well proud of it, even if it does slightly resemble a Jacobean ruff at the back. Ay well, it only took about three minutes to stitch up so it doesn't matter all that much if Wednesday was the one and only day I ever wear it.
Collar - handmade (terribly)
Lace top - £1 at Inter-Aid
Bizarre cameo brooch - hand-me-down from Mother Dearest
Jeans - £3 at RSPCA
Lippy - £1 at Big Girls Blouse
Thursday involved much slouching around the house in my lame grandma sweater and my lame grandma specs, drinking far too much tea and finally finishing that bloody feature article I've been banging on about for weeks. Then Sian came home and tactfully mentioned that I may want to think about getting dressed at some point, as it was 4.30 and pretty much dark outside. So I did, and walked to Tesco's to get me some croissants. I'm telling you, it was sheer madness. Don't ever let anyone tell you that the life of a student in Cardiff is anything less than infinitely fascinating, exciting and fabulous. They're SO wrong.
Crazy-colour jacket - £15 at Dirty Vintage
Denim...thing - £5 at Dirty Vintage
Ruffle top - £2.50 at BHF
Hilarious leggings (the knees are padded, ergo they are perfect for drunken nights out) - £3
Necklaces - £1 at Inter-Aid
Boots - £3.50 at STC
Jenny and I then went to see the brilliant Asking Alexandria at Solus bar, which was an exciting but utterly terrifying prospect considering the previous few days and the fact that the venue had sold out. AA and support band Bless The Fall were fantastic, and showing Jenny how to crowdsurf made me feel like I was 16 again, which was probably for the best as that seemed to be the average age of the crowd. Unfortunately some arsehole nicked Jen's iPhone, so Jen opted for the only feasible option - to get absolutely wasted. I won't go into detail about how the night unfolded, but it ended with me carting an inebriated young American chap back to his friends after he ended up in Cardiff central with us (?!) and forgot where he was meant to be staying. The chap in question turned out to be the lead guitarist in this band. His friends were waiting for him on their tourbus, and urgently needed to start driving across the country to the next show. They seemed to be pretty convinced we'd tried to kidnap him. Awkward. It was one of those rare, rare moments in my mostly booze-free life that I wished to God I wasn't sober.
To finish off, here are some super pictures taken earlier of the Worlds Best Byron and I. Byron is my old housemate, and he and Ol were sat at my house straighening their hair and such before their night out. Whilst they were swigging their cheap Lidl's cider, Byron delighted in informing me that I was in fact a tragic walking stereotype, what with my old lady lifestyle and all, and cited a comment his friend had made about the many Cardiff hipsters that he reckons completely applies to me; "Ooooh I'm so original! I sit in my room, write poetry, whilst drinking tea in my vintage tea cup, listening to the Smiths, thinking of a new tattoo design..."
I told him he's got that all wrong. I would never sit in my room and write poetry. I go to the bingo instead. 'Ave that, hipsters. Adios! x