The bag! Won one of them in the styling competition, £65 up. I don't think there were many submissions but still, it was making me really happy in the library today.
I've heard the urban myth that Snoop Dogg makes more money out of his porn business than his music...apparently this was the best selling 'Adult film' of 2002. I wouldn't recommend googling it thoroughly but the strapline "Gin, juice and jizz" is too funny.
The student paper has done a styling competition to win Peter Pilotto x Kipling bags. This is mine and Vicky's effort. Turns out it's really fun dressing your friends up especially when they're as co-operative as Daisy.
Accidental on purpose theme. This isn't even everything and I'm starting to think I might be a bit sick of it, maybe it's time to give the royal memorabilia back over to the grannies of Bridgeport.
Shops with cages and barriers protecting the staff are the best, they remind me of Edward Hopper paintings and always look so inviting. This is my favourite one on the corner of All Saints Road where my brother claims to have found a dismembered finger when he was eleven(ish).
Josie (on the left) lives round the corner from a great one in Manchester which has an incredible set of 20p machines. Initially I was loving the gold jewellery but after five identical scratchy rings that rapidly turned my finger green I switched to a new machine, trolls are clearly so much better.
The Death of Chatterton by Henry Wallis is one of my favourite paintings, mostly because when I first saw it at about fourteen and read that the subject was a seventeen year old poet so poverty-stricken he tore up all literature to hand and swallowed arsenic I thought it was a perfect representation of a tortured artist. People reclining in front of windows always remind me of it.
Have watched Swingers (too great) and American Gigolo (dodgy storyline) for the first time recently and they make Vince Vaughan and California look amazing, such good cars and hair.
Also 'money' as huge compliment definitely needs to make a comeback.
Went to Berlin recently and there were so many great pairs of shoes, they were all size 37 for some reason which was frustrating. Off the foot small shoes look odd, and make me think of bound feet which are weird, as is the tendency among fat women to be pleased by and proud of their (comparatively) small feet.
When did fashion become so boring. Apparently we should be wearing camel, which is essentially beige and everyone knows beige is as boring as people who wear midlength skirts. Nor am I going to spend £500 pounds (boring) on an looking like a (fat) extra from Top Gun and I haven't seen Mad Men.
This beach is incredible, after a storm so much gets washed up - nothing you'd really want but great gnarled pieces of wood, tangled rope and endless faded plastic jerry cans. In several places instead of sand there is just pale green clay.
Sacred heart steak anyone?
Having had a straight down the line Church of England upbringing the drama of Catholicism is novel - relics, transubstantiation, purgatory, bloody nails and flaming hearts are infinitely more interesting than a metaphorical bible and tolerant priests.