IMG_2298Flared jeans, Topshop/crochet top, Topshop/coat, Topshop/hat (pictured below), Primark/Sandals, Primark/woolly socks, ‘vintage’ (Mama Wong bought them).

IMG_2306Oh god, #duckface.

You know what I mean when I say ‘Sunday outfit’ right? Sundays invoke those lazy days of late mornings, brunch (because breakfast is a late affair too), and most definitely casual dressing. I don’t want to be a loser and wax lyrical about jeans but damn these flares are soft like butter. I could sleep on them like a pillow; they feel like a baby blanket when you wear them. A denim swaddling, you could say.

I was also extra naughty and wore woolly socks (not those fashion ones) with sandals because my feet were cold. Cool cat that I am.

IMG_2316 ‘Crochet crop top’ sounds like a tongue twister if you say it fast enough.

IMG_2320 Patented dork face.

IMG_2326Hiding it. Justly so.




I’m considering starting a mini-series on this blog called #londonadventures, in which I take pictures of weird and wonderful things (when I remember to) and detail my many, many shopping exploits. This time it was Shoreditch, land of the hip. My friend lives there (much jel abound) so hopefully one day I’ll be able to live in London by just sleeping underneath his bed – er, I mean, visit there more often. Totally what I mean.

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And Hipsterland begins.




Yeah, I like food, okay?


Trinkets. Among which lies treasure… if you can be bothered to sift.


This greets you when you walk into the store.


It’s a tartan wet dream.


It’s a… wait, bad idea to make any furry jokes.


Old cinema seats, over which hangs a leopard print coat and tons of shoes lie beneath. This is like the vintage version of Barbie’s Dream House. Or just my dream house.


This could be modern art if it wasn’t so damn creepy. I’d name it ‘Plastic Poison’. Lone Clown in gazing off in distance optional.


So when I get my dream house, I’m also going to fill it with tons of vintage things that I can do absolutely nothing with but will look fucking great: i.e: typewriters, globes, sewing machines à la All Saints.


Fake porcelain dog to replace the dog-shaped hole in your soul. Now only if it was a cat…


My only purchase of the day. To be fair it was The Next Morning and I was feeling particularly delicate… Anyway these are my fake-made-real glasses, you can buy frames for like £4 and take them to the opticians to get prescriptive lenses put in for True!Hipster fun. Though let’s not lie, if was a real hipster they would be Ray Bans. Word.

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Coat, Topshop/Jumper, H&M/Shorts, Primark/Shoes, Urban Outfitters.

I probably look like this about 40% of the time, with just a variation on what kind of shorts or jumper I’ll fish out that morning depending on the day. I also have a system where I step outside into the garden for like 2 seconds to try and gauge if a) I need a coat and then b) what is the flimsiest coat/jacket I can get away with. This is actually the thickest coat in my arsenal. Long gone are those days were I could just make it through winter with 2 cardigans… sob.

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Mmm, crispy hair ends. Thank God I got a haircut.

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classic heart sign

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