Hey! Thanks for watching my video. These are the links you are looking for :)
The shirt I am wearing is from Eileen Fisher. My nails are Intensae in the colour Jungle. I have a video coming up in which I walk through this makeup but until then the lip colour in this video is ColourPop's Lumière.
The music that opens the video is "Comme une maison vide" by Julsy. Her stuff is all as gorgeous as this and more. I also used a song of hers, "Ze Rest Of Uz", in my Norway video. Listening to it chokes me up every time because I'm sensitive af. Support her on Bandcamp; the world needs more dreamy albums from this artist.
The golden group chat is made up of Emily, Lex, rhr and Sa-nay-nay. These girls convinced me to go to Amsterdam, and I am so glad they did. I'm so happy I got to see Sanne speak on her panels (*proud mother duck*), be in the same room with Rosianna even though she was a working whirlwind. Lex took me to my bus stop to get to the airport because she is a total gentleman. And Emily is getting as difficult to pin down as Rosianna these days so I was so so happy to have someone to gush to about how much we were falling for Amsterdam. Seriously though, I might like Amsterdam more than London now HELP???
Hey! Thanks for watching my video. These are the links you are looking for :)
The shirt I am wearing is from Eileen Fisher. My nails are Intensae in the colour Jungle. I have a video coming up in which I walk through this makeup but until then the lip colour in this video is ColourPop's Lumière.
The music that opens the video is "Comme une maison vide" by Julsy. Her stuff is all as gorgeous as this and more. I also used a song of hers, "Ze Rest Of Uz", in my Norway video. Listening to it chokes me up every time because I'm sensitive af. Support her on Bandcamp; the world needs more dreamy albums from this artist.
The golden group chat is made up of Emily, Lex, rhr and Sa-nay-nay. These girls convinced me to go to Amsterdam, and I am so glad they did. I'm so happy I got to see Sanne speak on her panels (*proud mother duck*), be in the same room with Rosianna even though she was a working whirlwind. Lex took me to my bus stop to get to the airport because she is a total gentleman. And Emily is getting as difficult to pin down as Rosianna these days so I was so so happy to have someone to gush to about how much we were falling for Amsterdam. Seriously though, I might like Amsterdam more than London now HELP???
Update: Craftsman Café closed permanently in 2018 :(
One of my favourite places I've discovered since moving south of the river (the shock, the horror) is Craftsman Café. It moved into the neighbourhood at about the same time I did. To the extent that we saw them hand-painting the trim and stencilling the logo on the front window (below right photo via the geo-tagged Instagram page). And I think for those reasons, though I've gone less in the colder months, this has become of my favourite places in London.
Update: Craftsman Café closed permanently in 2018 :(
One of my favourite places I've discovered since moving south of the river (the shock, the horror) is Craftsman Café. It moved into the neighbourhood at about the same time I did. To the extent that we saw them hand-painting the trim and stencilling the logo on the front window (below right photo via the geo-tagged Instagram page). And I think for those reasons, though I've gone less in the colder months, this has become of my favourite places in London.
*pears around corner* Ahem, erm, h-h-hello? Am I still allowed here? Yes? *whips white sheets off furniture*
This little guy is all over the shops this week. I was reading a proof copy last year and now have the luscious debossed hardback by my bedside. The writing of Goats and Sheep is so comforting without being at all dumbed down. It has a dreamy quality to it that at times reminds me of if The Virgin Suicides was set in middle England and concentrated on two ten-year-olds rather than pouting teenage daughters. I'm looking forward to starting it again–it's the kind of read with descriptions so good you want to roll them around in your mouth.
THE SPORT OF KINGS by C.E. Morgan
I stole my friend's advanced copy of this because it is so pretty. Look at it, goddammit. That typography. I had to take it home. I have no idea what's it about (that's how I like to go into my books) but I'm going to wager there are some horsies. I have to be honest, I did try to start reading it tonight and am finding it difficult to get past the first couple pages. But to be fair it's 9pm on a Friday after a full on week of work. Progress to be updated on Goodreads.
*pears around corner* Ahem, erm, h-h-hello? Am I still allowed here? Yes? *whips white sheets off furniture*
This little guy is all over the shops this week. I was reading a proof copy last year and now have the luscious debossed hardback by my bedside. The writing of Goats and Sheep is so comforting without being at all dumbed down. It has a dreamy quality to it that at times reminds me of if The Virgin Suicides was set in middle England and concentrated on two ten-year-olds rather than pouting teenage daughters. I'm looking forward to starting it again–it's the kind of read with descriptions so good you want to roll them around in your mouth.
THE SPORT OF KINGS by C.E. Morgan
I stole my friend's advanced copy of this because it is so pretty. Look at it, goddammit. That typography. I had to take it home. I have no idea what's it about (that's how I like to go into my books) but I'm going to wager there are some horsies. I have to be honest, I did try to start reading it tonight and am finding it difficult to get past the first couple pages. But to be fair it's 9pm on a Friday after a full on week of work. Progress to be updated on Goodreads.
"What's today?"
An innocent, anodyne, purely date-seeking question was posed to me this morning. But when I flicked over to the sidebar to check,
"Oh. It's September 11th."
Like most Americans, especially those around my age, I have a September 11th story. And they usually all start with a variation on 'I remember...'
I remember not long after, people (my parents?) saying this would be our Robert Kennedy moment. Our moon landing. We would all remember this day. And have a picture burned in our minds of exactly what we were doing when we found out. There have certainly been more traumas in the world since. If I was a Londoner, maybe it would have been the 7/7 bombings, or if I lived in Indonesia, the 2004 tsunami. And there will never be enough words on the amount of hurt caused by and still happening due to the 'War or Terror.' Basically, what I'm trying to get at here is the fact that looking at the date and feeling a rush of sadness and dread in the pit of your stomach when you realise it's 9/11, is a largely American reaction. No matter how much I try to shrug off where I come from, my relationship with that date will always be a reminder to myself that part of me is unshakeably American.
"What's today?"
An innocent, anodyne, purely date-seeking question was posed to me this morning. But when I flicked over to the sidebar to check,
"Oh. It's September 11th."
Like most Americans, especially those around my age, I have a September 11th story. And they usually all start with a variation on 'I remember...'
I remember not long after, people (my parents?) saying this would be our Robert Kennedy moment. Our moon landing. We would all remember this day. And have a picture burned in our minds of exactly what we were doing when we found out. There have certainly been more traumas in the world since. If I was a Londoner, maybe it would have been the 7/7 bombings, or if I lived in Indonesia, the 2004 tsunami. And there will never be enough words on the amount of hurt caused by and still happening due to the 'War or Terror.' Basically, what I'm trying to get at here is the fact that looking at the date and feeling a rush of sadness and dread in the pit of your stomach when you realise it's 9/11, is a largely American reaction. No matter how much I try to shrug off where I come from, my relationship with that date will always be a reminder to myself that part of me is unshakeably American.
This feels kind of like walking into a meeting you've been skipping for the last couple months. Everyone lifts up their head to look as you come through the door. And then they go back to shuffling their papers, ignoring your casual sheepish wave.
Hey guys.
For months I've been ruminating about how to write here now that I am not freelance. How do non-freelance people blog?! Comment some examples. I don't want this to be a place where I talk about my job because I spend most of my waking hours doing and thinking about my job. I really want my blog to be a separate entity but I'm beginning to wonder if it can be. My job is a huge part of my life now. And I feel like if I ban myself from talking about it... well, what else will I have to say here?
You read it all the time on blogs (oh bloggers and their crises) but I'm gonna say it too. My life is not that eventful. Frankly I'm happy to keep it that way at the moment. Is this what it is like to get older? A month from tomorrow I will be turning 24 (very, very not best pleased about this). Making me that much further away from being able to unabashedly sing Taylor's 22.
Whenever the weekend rolls around and I have a reprise from the office, I find myself missing posting photos and scraps of thoughts here. But I can't think of things to say that isn't 'I'm tired' or 'Look, I'm adulting' or 'I should be reading right now' or 'Why can't I keep my flat tidy'. Also, I have to say, I quite enjoy doing absolutely nothing. Sue me.
So, of the little that has been going on, here is a life update:
This feels kind of like walking into a meeting you've been skipping for the last couple months. Everyone lifts up their head to look as you come through the door. And then they go back to shuffling their papers, ignoring your casual sheepish wave.
Hey guys.
For months I've been ruminating about how to write here now that I am not freelance. How do non-freelance people blog?! Comment some examples. I don't want this to be a place where I talk about my job because I spend most of my waking hours doing and thinking about my job. I really want my blog to be a separate entity but I'm beginning to wonder if it can be. My job is a huge part of my life now. And I feel like if I ban myself from talking about it... well, what else will I have to say here?
You read it all the time on blogs (oh bloggers and their crises) but I'm gonna say it too. My life is not that eventful. Frankly I'm happy to keep it that way at the moment. Is this what it is like to get older? A month from tomorrow I will be turning 24 (very, very not best pleased about this). Making me that much further away from being able to unabashedly sing Taylor's 22.
Whenever the weekend rolls around and I have a reprise from the office, I find myself missing posting photos and scraps of thoughts here. But I can't think of things to say that isn't 'I'm tired' or 'Look, I'm adulting' or 'I should be reading right now' or 'Why can't I keep my flat tidy'. Also, I have to say, I quite enjoy doing absolutely nothing. Sue me.
So, of the little that has been going on, here is a life update:
You may recall a similarly titled post that cropped up here back in April. Yes? Yes! These are part two, the 'Light' series, of my Cornwall photos (aka, the prints from the Boots disposable that didn't turn out as dark and grainy). Ross and I stayed in the guesthouse of one the cottages pictured above. See the one on the right with the trio of windows jutting out from the roof? Dat us. Literally on the edge of England. See those rocks? Yeah, they drop directly down to ocean.
You may recall a similarly titled post that cropped up here back in April. Yes? Yes! These are part two, the 'Light' series, of my Cornwall photos (aka, the prints from the Boots disposable that didn't turn out as dark and grainy). Ross and I stayed in the guesthouse of one the cottages pictured above. See the one on the right with the trio of windows jutting out from the roof? Dat us. Literally on the edge of England. See those rocks? Yeah, they drop directly down to ocean.
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