Becoming a Hermit During Exam Time

While I enjoy reading, writing and learning, I absolutely abhor exam season. It is just such an unnatural period in one’s life; constant streams of cortisol running through my student veins, sleep deprivation, rapidly declining eyesight, shoulder/back pain from sitting at my laptop like I am the hunchback of Notre Dame, lack of social contact which renders one a hermit of sorts—the list goes on.

 

The worst part is that I always reassure myself that ‘This is the last time I will be so unprepared. Next time, I will not be stressed because I will be ready.’ Well, I have let myself down for the 100^th Semester in a row.

 

I can’t wait to repossess my normal brain activities, like thinking idly, instead of frantically summarising and making checklists of every bit of information that comes before me.  

The Striped Tee

Vintage

Modern                        

  

I have long been an advocate. A classic look: see pics above. 

I'm always on the hunt for the perfect striped tee. Not too tight, not too loose. That elusive 'worn-in' look. 

Obsessions.

• Mazzy Star (“Fade Into You”, “Look on Down from the Bridge”, “Into Dust”)
• Anna Karina
• Hot baths, taken alongside steaming green tea and Japanese Russh
• Kissing
• ID Magazine
• Art galleries
• Taking pictures
• Coffee in the mornings

Phoenix Love

I just bought tickets to see them play in August. This is very, very exciting. 

Ballet Flats and Blake

 

The sky outside is grey, occasionally tumbling down raindrops on our humble human heads. I’m dreaming of whimsical prose and conversations with mystic people, like William Blake. Imagine meeting William Blake, and even better, sharing afternoon tea with him. What stories he would have to tell over earl grey tea and coconut macaroons.

 

And Ballet flats. I’m dreaming of the perfect pair. And I think I may have found them; Bloch. Their soles are flexible yet sturdier than Salvios. I like the black and white two-tone shoe (very Chanel). I also like them in plain old navy.

 

And finally, I am contemplating love and its impermanence. Carrying on loving when you can see the end in sight. Forbidden love. Emotional love. Erotic love. Unrequited love. Love comes in so many forms. Me, I love to love love, in its all its species. It trumps every other emotion in my opinion.

 

Grey, melancholy days always make me think.

Preened & Perfect

A couple of months ago, I tried a Preen dress on at Marais, here in Melbourne. The shape was amazing. It was a sort of tulip shape, with a cutout pattern on the neck and on the back. Excuse the poor description. The point is, I loved its shape. An example of perfect tailoring. These two dresses on netaporter.com are completely lustworthy. I especially love the detail on the S&M inspired little number. I love it: it’s sexy and brazen. Only a girl with some serious attitude could pull it off.

New and Old Looks

I highly recommend playing around with style.com’s powersearch. You can trawl through an endless amount of catwalk snaps, backstage photos and fashion reports. Warning: highly addictive.

the clutch

 

There is something ineffably chic about the clutch. Be it luxe or vintage, the clutch is timeless. A clutch tucked casually underarm on a night out not only looks poised but prevents you from packing the entire bathroom cabinet into your bag, which is not only unnecessary and cumbersome but really quite harmful to maintaining good posture (I'm short; I need all the help I can get from my spinal column).

my bounty is as boundless as the sea

'A Mermaid', John William Waterhouse

Taken with a Holga

I love the seaside. I love its purity and its inability to be contained, like a wild dreamer unable to be caged within the confines of social norms. I also love everything that is associated with beaches; piers, boardwalks, ice-cream vans,  frilly bombshell-red bikinis…What I don't like, however, is scorching heat where you feel as though you are a cake slowly baking in a moderately hot oven. My ideal day is a pleasant 25 degrees with a blue sky and a glorious serving of sunshine.

My favourite quote in Romeo and Juliet is in Act 2, Scene 2, where Juliet beautifully says:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite. 

I also love The Little Mermaid, by Hans Christian Andersen

Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects. We must not imagine that there is nothing at the bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most singular flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of which are so pliant, that the slightest agitation of the water causes them to stir as if they had life. Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches, as birds fly among the trees here upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands the castle of the Sea King. Its walls are built of coral, and the long, gothic windows are of the clearest amber. The roof is formed of shells, that open and close as the water flows over them. Their appearance is very beautiful, for in each lies a glittering pearl, which would be fit for the diadem of a queen.

Cluttered Arms and Lover t-shirts

Today I'm thinking about dreamy bracelets and bangles cluttering arms and pretty rings wrapped delicately around fingers and Lover t-shirts.  Pamela Love's look (Pictures 4,5, 7 and 8)  is what I am talking about. I enjoyed this article: 'Pamela Love Really Wants A Sonia Rykiel Hat'. Have a read. As for the lover t-shirts, they would look super worn back with a crisp black blazer and tucked into a pair of dark high waisted skinnies.

je rêve, donc je suis.

 

I almost failed an assignment yesterday at uni. Oh, how I weeped. My entire (non-existent) career flashed dramatically before my eyes. The cure for such failures in life is to engross yourself in fanciful fantasies. For instance, this video clip.

Also: A.P.C's liberty prints, pretty pretty hair à la the girls of Au Revoir Simone and the super kitsch penguin ring snapped by theselby.com in Julia-Restoin Roitfield's apartment. 

Girl Crushes

Love doesn’t make the world go round, crushes do. Love is just the crush in its highest form.

 

I crush on everything. Girls that I spy on the street, sales assistants in boutiques, obscure French actresses, writers who are long dead, marketing campaigns, particular species of plants. Crushing is what justifies my rolling out of bed in the morning to the sound of my iphone alarm (the incessant quacking of a duck).

 

Alexa Chung is one of those girls. Clemence Poesy is another. And of course, Ms Sevigny. The manufactured ‘it’ girls of Hollywood that pollute the pages of tabloid magazines are a source of great repugnance to me. They genuinely appear to be of vile personalities. The unpretentious indie girls over in the European continent are much more to my liking.

 

Alexa Chung exudes nonchalance in everything she wears. French nautical stripes, toffee coloured leather and forest-green parkas that the Queen of England would wear on a hunting trip make for an aesthetic that is easy and cool.

 

Wilkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome.

frivolous |ˈfrivələs|

adjective

not having any serious purpose or value • (of a person) carefree and not serious.
I like to keep up with current affairs. I watch credible news programs. I like to use my intellect for seriouspursuits. Hell, sometimes I even enjoy reading the Financial Review. 
Here's my space dedicated entirely to more frivolous matters, like liberty prints, shiny brogues and Alexander Wang. Occasionally, I may even dabble in music, movies and food (the mind digresses). And of course, literature, which is, after all, 'the great art .... [that] preys upon the marrow of our bones'. 
Enjoy.