immortality
Daaaaaaaarlings!
I know, I know. It must be so painful, for our followers, all sixteen of them, to not have me gracing your dashboards. And to put you at rest and stop you having sleepless nights, I decided to ignore my vow to not post again until Tara gets off her lazy backside and takes pictures, and make a post anyway. Rejoice!
I was looking through the blog yesterday and realised that all of the photos are me trying to fit into the camera shot, or standing blandly with my hands on my hips, and it’s all rather boring. So, I’m going to take the advice of Tyra Banks, that if you don’t know what to do in a shot, pretend you have period pain.
I’ll be gracing the cover of Vogue any time soon.
The garment I’m wearing the cover my snatch is possibly the baggiest pair of trousers I’ve ever seen, and I love them soooooo muuuuuch. Yes.
They look all dramatic and swishy when I walk. I feel like some sort of gallant samurai in a low-budget anime.
I made this brooch out of a very teeny tiny eensy weensy vintage picture frame of a lady with a bad haircut.
Aaaaaaand finally, the obligatory vanity picture of my face. I bought the scarf a couple of days ago to replace to one Tara has nicked from me. Also, note how pale I am. I spent three weeks in Spain this summer, and I didn’t even wear sunscreen. WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY SKIN?!
Adios amigos!
x
