WHEN I GROW UP I WANT TO BE AN EDWARD SHARPE AND A MAGNETIC ZERO.

Due to the aforementioned massively important deadline rapidly approaching, I don't have time to write much. So I thought I'd share a few Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros photos from last night.I LOVE THEM!!I have previously declared my love for them in my second ever post... Now if that doesn't shout 'crazed fan, stay away!' what does?!(CLICK HERE to see me as a new blogger hatching out of my egg. not literally!)It's the second time I've seen them live and they've been more than brilliant both times. They always seem like they're having so much fun! Plus, (I know I might be quite lonely on this one) I love their hippie style. 

At some point, Alexander got the entire audience to sit on the floor and sing with him. 

(sorry video is a bit crap... the sound is terrible and I was having too much fun to record for longer than 16seconds haha!) 

I should also tell you that (occasionally to my boyfriends disdain), I have a compulsion when it comes to bands I LOVE. I have to be as close as possible  at the barrier. 

I looked into his mouth. No cavities. Both talented and good dental hygiene. A winning combination!!!

On a more fashion related note, This is the only picture of myself from last night so you'll have to picture what I wore in your head. I wore my fan boy Edward Sharpe design t-shirt, black maxi skirt, layers of ethnic jewellery, leopard print coat and red leopard print scarf. (Claudette's not left yet!) 


Here are a few youtube links to some of my favourite songs:


SIMPLEST LOVE


AWAKE MY BODY


and this is their big song that originally made them famous: HOME


Anticlimax: When the gig was over I came back home and worked on my project. fun.... 
Anticlimax number two: I am now so tired, I accidentaly put the kettle in the fridge after I was done making tea. 
..... yeah.....

DRESS TO STRESS.

Let me apologise in advance for not being able to give this blog my 100% this week. I have a mui importante (how's my made up Spanish?) deadline coming up. The type of deadline you think you can only survive by suddenly acquiring super powers. Now, how am I going to do that? you wonder. I suppose I COULD get voluntarily bitten by spiders, hang out with bats or eat a shitload of peanuts (super goofy, hello?!)-(yes, clearly my super hero knowledge needs brushing up on). Well due to the fact that my relationship with spiders and bats is rather shaky and peanuts look like a tease snack to me (apart from raw almonds, I'd give my right arm for some raw almonds right now [plus, minus a right hand, I'd have a pretty good excuse to escape the deadline...]) In the case however that I'd rather escape the deadline with all limbs intact, all I would need is a red cape. But here's the catch, a red cape could easily confuse people as to who I am and trust me, Little Red Riding Hood is not who I need right now. I mean come on, lets put it out there... girlfriend is thick! How on earth do you confuse a wolf for your nan? was she on hallucinogenics?! So, lets summarize, 1 superhero + 1 deadline - 1 little red riding hood = RED LEOPARD PRINT SCARF. 

All black with touches of colour and leather is all I seem to want to wear recently. Maybe the very trendy, amongst the fashionistas of the world, answer to the popular question 'describe your style', 'I dress according to my mood', is not just a generic, faux modest reply. So, if my current outfit is, in fact, a reflection of my mood, I feel like a mourning dominatrix with an affinity towards bleeding wild life. Sounds pretty eccentric, I'll go with it, I'll call her Claudette. 

Hopefully, by the end of the week, Claudette will be leaving my life... 

...but leopard print superman is here to stay!

fingers crossed xxx

scarf/top/shoes: asos

shorts: river island.

SNEEK PEAK [only gloomier]

I'm so over the last 16 months, I can't even tell you. 

I'll be SO happy to see the back of 2011. 

Consider this a sneak peek of my next post that I promise will be filled with more jumping, jokes and pictures! 

PROJECT CATTLE BRIDGE.

Some people grow up dreaming about fame and fortune. Those people are usually born stars. I'm not going to lie, in the first year of school, I was Mary (you know, the virgin one) in the nativity play. I loved having the lead. I had a little doll I held upside down for the entire duration of the play and was partnered up with a rare specimen for Greek standards, a blond boy who was given the humble part of Joseph. In the second year, having excelled as Jesus's mama, I was given the part of the evil witch in a play about an evil witch who had captured heroes from famous fairytale. Everyone else had to stand up, say two lines and sit down again. My part included walking around and saying what evil plans I had for each and every one of the captured characters. When, in the third year, I was given the part of Snow White, I rebelled. She is just not very funny, I kept saying. And I mean, I was right. I requested to be grumpy. In the after school club we did Pocahontas. I knew it would be a hard battle because lets be honest, there's a reason people have been calling me Pocahontas since 1995 and it's not my inexistent Native American roots. I cried, I begged, I was finally given the part of the raccoon. By the time I was finishing primary school, most girls in my class were secretly listening to Britney during music class and although I did love Britney, I was too preoccupied with my plan of placing a fart cushion on our old cat lady music teacher's chair. A plan that succeeded and also got me in a lot of trouble. 

Why I'm telling you all this? 

Because I am not the person meant to walk the catwalks of L/P/M/C etc FW. I was always destined to don high heels, red jeans and baggy tops on a cattle bridge. 

And lets be honest, what better place to strut your stuff? You can wear things old enough to be affordable, you can keep the photos and then write whatever you want about them, because you're your own boss. And being the Bruce Springsteen of my life is only second best to Bruce himself actually being the boss of my life. (sometimes, in my head, he is!) 

On a cattle bridge you can play with your jewellery (say hiiiii Ferdinando) 

you can do your own hair...

and even smell your pits

Now I know that some catwalks go pretty extreme with their hair/make up/shows but not many have the luxury of graffiti that looks you in the eye! 

taraaaa. catwalks 0 - cattle bridge 100 

plus, (you know where this is going don't you?)

On a cattle bridge you are allowed to change into flat shoes to...

JUMP!

You saw that coming didn't you? 

Have you ever seen me landing though?

ha! Blogging twist! Aren't I full of surprises?!

top: topshop

blazer: primark

trousers: asos

shoes: aldo

flat shoes: office

THE GUIDE TO STYLISH CAMPING

I went camping yesterday (for one whole day). This is what I wore:

See, I'm one of those dedicated bloggers... Ok, so maybe that's a lie, maybe what I really wore was old jeans and three different tops (I'm all for layering you see, all the trendiest of us are) one leather sleeveless one under a long sleeved stripy one under a massive pink jumper under an even bigger utility coat courtesy of my boyfriend topped by a pair of white plastic sunglasses and a red leopard scarf. Oh yeah, and my worn out converse shoes. Stylish right? No. So lets pretend I wore the above aqua dress. And lets pretend this is a guide to glamorous camping.

THE GUIDE TO STYLISH CAMPING

by Daphne Economou

Ladies, Gentlemen and all you inbetweeners (brilliant film btw, WATCH IT),

Why sacrifice your style when out in the wilderness, I ask. Now before you come up with a million and two sensible reasons to throw back at me, let me stop you and give you the answer myself. 

(The Answer ->) There is NO reason. In fact, the IDEAL outfit for a night out on the field is a backless, shorter at the front, longer at the back dress with baubles and high heels, preferably strappy. 

Here's why:

• Said perfect outfit does not only look good, but it's also great for manual labour such as putting up a tent, pumping air into matresses and pushing water tanks away from the campsite to save fellow campers. 

Of course, that will instantly turn you into a superhero, but fear not, this dress won't let you down because (ta-daaaa) it has a cape-like back 

But lets go back to camping...

• Portaloos, what a pain in the arse right? They are always too small, too dirty, too awful. You have to walk miles in the mud to get to this little cabin and despite your super powers you just don't manage to get there before the fat tattoo'ed guy with the shaved head who, in your sight, flashes his empty smile and announces that 'this'll take a while love'. Yes there ARE more portaloos but they're all taken by people for whom 'hygine' is a country far far away, probably in a different continent, they're not quite sure, but 'wasn't there a civil war there in the 90s?!' 'no, no, that's Yemen' 'Oh right, what happened in hygiene then?'. How to avoid all this?  Well this get up comes with a curtain of its own, almost like a private little bathroom ;) 

(However, I'll be honest with you, people would still know so please, for the love of God, don't listen to my advice and use the portaloos, that's what hand gel is for!)

• Another problem you often need to tackle when it comes to camping, in Britain especially, is the mud. Lovely earth mixed with lovely water equals not so lovely dirty, sticky, mud. Now, there is a common misconception about an item of clothing that often comes in as the finishing touch to the perfect festival and/or farmer look, the trusty wellington boot! The misconception is, that they are the shoe to wear in the mud. It's a misconception because IT'S WRONG! Come on people, where's your logic? I mean, I know Kate Moss looks hot when she pairs them with shorts too small for the eye to see but where is the practicality in a welly? nowhere that's where! The STRAPPY HIGH HEEL on the other hand? Now that's what I'm talking about. Perfect. Practical. 

Wipe that confusion off of your face and think! What does the high heel do? the answer is in the bolding. it's high and what does height do? It lifts you from the ground. So there you go aspiring camper, there's your answer. With the high heel, you no longer have your feet on the muddy ground, thanks to the little spikey bit at the end of your shoe you are now a few inches away from the icky mud. Parfait, non?

• Food is usually not a problem when camping. Thanks to disposable bbq's we all get our crispy bacon butties and eat them too. What happens, however, when your tent is just too close to all the smoke and you're a) freaked out by the idea of dirty bacon smoke making sweet sweet love to your designer clothes that you have very sensibly packed with you or b) have heard one too many stories about people getting carbon monoxide poisoning in their sleep, a result to what they had assumed was just a happy bbq? Well, this dress will not protect you from dying, I'll be honest. It will, however, grab the attention of weirded out passerbys who stare at you for climbing on a tree (water tank) (you're climbing on a tree to avoid the smoke in case you didn't get it. This applies to both a and b cases) So instead of comments such as: 'What the hell's that crazy woman doing in a tree' you'll get comments like: 'what a gorgeous dress, oh! and just look at those shoes!'. Dignity saved, ka-tching! 

• Last but not least, fellow british campers (meaning fellow people who camp in Britain, I'm not British myself) what you do know quite well is that the rain sometimes parties on the ground. No I'm not talking about mud again, I'm talking about the snooty side of rain, the one that doesn't mix with soil, the puddle!. Again, in what would be conventional 'camping clothing' you'd jump in a puddle, what a stupid idea! With my stylish outfit,on the other hand, you'd sensibly jump over it!! 

And that's all folks!! 

Now, before you start pulling your hair out:

let me clarify. 

You can if you want (although inadvisable), take the "normal" route and go dressed like this:

(plus a few hundred layers)

But really, why would you ever do that?! 

dress: Aqua

heels: Zara

-

jeans: Asos

Top: Topshop

Scarf: Asos

Shoes: Converse

GUESS WHO?!

Ok ok, my clueless friends, I'll help you. This man has met up with the devil, he's spoken to morphine, he's painted a red door black, he's looked for his baby, he's had 19 nervous breakdowns, he's been under the thumb, he's kicked us off of his cloud, he has far away eyes and now, he's a miracle worker. Most importantly, of all the men I love (I'm talking artists here, I'm only an emotional slut when it comes to music) he is my NUMBER ONE!! To be honest, I love him more than he loves himself. Here's my theory on that little statement: I've loved him since I was a fetus (I might have a father who loves him even more than I do) for eight long months (yes eight, no I'm not a moron, I was a preemie) I listened to him and loved him whereas when HE was a fetus, he didn't listen to himself, he just grew... an abnormally big mouth!
...come on, you must be getting closer to finding out. No? Fine! Fine! 


Find out AFTER THE JUMP


ha! you clicked on that didn't you? Well, I was being more literal actually: 

Ok, I suppose I can reveal it now. 

.......... drum roll ............

IT'S MICK JAGGER

SEPARATED AT BIRTH??

I THINK SO!

Hey Mick!! You're like a rainbow, I love you, TWEET ME! 

pink suit: ASOS

shoes: office

top: Topshop

no rain, no gain.

The best thing about these pictures is what happened 'behind the scenes'. The weather, clearly inspired by my posing, took a dramatic turn and decided to change from sunny to cloudy to rain to Noah within about ten minutes. I wish someone had taken a picture of us walking back home. Both of us looking like we just had a swim and forgotten to take our clothes off, Anthony carrying an old chair over his head and me in (what suddenly became unseasonable) summery clothes and heels in the middle of a muddy field. We must have looked like something out of a circus and/or a really bad sitcom!

top: topshop

dress (worn as skirt): H&M

shoes: topshop via eba

necklace&peacock ring: house of harlow

bracelets: vintage.