Five Second Update

I have new hair! Praise Jebus, the two inches of bleached fuzz have been removed and a sleek bob'n'bow fringe have been cut in. But that's not all...

 Peach and ginge! Just the injection of bright grafitti colour I needed to cling on to the last remnants of an autumn I didn't even begin to appreciate enough. Thank you once again, Vidal Sassoon.

In order to highlight the new 'do (not that it needs highlighting - I'm pretty sure I'm going to be mistaken for an amber traffic light at least once over the next week) I kept it understated in a rolled-up grey marle skirt, toasty knee-highs and my trusty Goo tee, throwing in a dutty heart-shaped handbag so that at least one part of my ensemble matched my lippy.

Sonic Youth tee - Pulp
Gold collar necklace - Topshop
Grey skirt - donated by Ello
Knee-high socks - Primarni
Boots - cast-offs from Mama H
Bag - chazz

Khaki coat -  H&M
Scarf - found in a skip
Gloves - appeared in my wardrobe, no idea where they originally came from. Hrrm.

I know this khaki coat has appeared in about 5 of my previous posts already, but I can't get enough of it. It was an impulse buy last year and now BOOM, giant trend of the season. It's a brilliant wet weather student coat, goes with pretty much everything in my wardrobe and -as I discovered recently - has an adjustable waistline. Perfecto.

Adios for now,

Betti Baudelaire xxx

Rage

I'm giving up smoking for the 17465th time. It's not going very well, hence the title of this post and the following mishmash of staccato, passive agressive sentences. There's a cold, hard, menacing glint in my eye. My fag-hand doesn't know what to do with itself, the max-strength nicotine gum is giving me a sore throat and my hair smells strange. Like, fresh. Ugh, I just shuddered involuntarily.

It's been one day.

To combat the gnawing sense of loss that accompanies ditching the cigs, I did my best to pull together an outfit that didn't feature a single leisurewear garment. Right on schedule, I experienced a massive attack of the 'I HATE YOU, WARDROBE' neuroses. Seriously, every single bloody item of clothing I own has magically revealed itself to be woven from 10% cotton, 90% crap. I'm sorely tempted to give the majority of it to the poor, unsuspecting charity shops around the corner.
How does one beat the bad clothes blues? Help needed.

Bowler hat - Primark
Cardigan - Lily Vintage in Chester
Dress - H&M
Belt - River Island

I was dangerously close to curling up into the foetal position and admitting defeat, but then remembered this no-fail cardi from Lily Vintage that I picked up in Chester earlier this year. Its fuzzy mohair beauteousness and jazzy splashes of colour enlivens even the 'pleh'-est of outfits in much the same way that a brick enlivens a dull floor (guess the reference, British TV fans. The winner gets a rake. There's another one for you...um.) This 'ere cream glittery H&M Christmas dress gave me a much-needed sparkle injection. Glitzy dresses - better than Prozac. I cheered up a treat, resisted the urge to set fire to the mountain of clothes left on my bedroom floor and went for falafel. MMM.

The one good thing that has come out of this whole fag-dumping fandango is that I used the money that would usually go towards a pack of 10 Sterling to pay for my first dance class in almost a year. Progress indeed.

Adios!

Betti Baudelaire xxx

Autumn Chillz

Buona sera! After a cracking two weeks in London with the lovely lads at Gay Times I'm back in the 'Diff and MY GOD, it's nippy.

Wine-tasting, copious amounts of reading, plenty of quiet nights at Kentish Town pubs with good friends, catching Oli's pal Paul and his band playing their third ever gig and a sleepy Saturday at the Cherry Orchard Arts Festival in Croydon was all very lovely, but it's meant that settling back into a routine of actually learning things has been, well, it's...it hasn't happened yet.

I don't particularly like winter. I totally see why hedgehogs hibernate and birds fly south, but since neither of those options are available to me (despite my best efforts - sadly, nobody is willing to nail me into a fleece-lined box for three months) I'll have to make do with grumbling like the miserable cold-phobe I am.

I did manage to battle the icy climes and make it into Uni this morning, which is a bloody miracle considering I spent the first 30 minutes of conciousness this morning snarling about the injustice of 9am lectures. Oli convinced me to change out of my PJ's and reminded me that hey, this cold snap means I can dig all of my unravelling vintage knitwear out from the dusty corners of my wardrobe without fear of arriving to class a clammy mess.

Beret - H&M
Jumper - Hobo's
Necklace - made by Ursi
Shorts - American Apparel via Sian
Boots -  Chazz

I styled todays get-up around this corker of a necklace, which was a handmade birthday gift from my baby friend Ursi. Ursh has an eye for strangely awesome statement pieces and fashioned this chunky beast out of discarded copper pipe and navy curtain rope. It's my favourite item of jewelry and I wore it pretty much every day of travelling this summer, so I thought it high time to debut it with some winter warmers. It also encouraged me to chuck a bit of navy into the mix, which I never do despite its perennial chicness and prevalence in my chronically stuffed drawers. These shorts especially carry a triple threat of excellence - supreme comfort, a quirky boxy cut and a sturdy corduroy that hides the bucketloads of coffee I inevitably spill over them. Navy, you're alright. Consider me converted.

The shuffle through the autumn leaves was made bearable thanks to the smashing gift Oli gave me when we met at Kentish Town tube station on the last day of my GT placement. Behold, the scarf of wonder!

Scarf - Zara
Coat - H&M

If there's one accessory that sums up Autumn completely, this scarf is it. It matches the colour of the leaves that line the walk home perfectly, goes with every single coat I own (no mean feat) and is almost as toasty-warm as an extended lie-in. It's almost, almost a reason to leave the house in itself. Uber man-props to Ol for that little find.

I'm tired, it's late and I've eaten too many mini-muffins. I'll leave you with a track that'll warm the very cockles of yer 'eart. It's about timeless zones and being a cat - aural bliss.

Betti Baudelaire xxx