So the sun has finally decided to join us over the last few days and I’ve really enjoyed watching people make the transition into their summer wardrobe. Some people, bam, straight into full on festival happy sunny-sun-sun outfits, others cautiously carrying layers like security blankets, unsure that the weather will hold.
I spotted this girl from my crows nest on the top deck of the bus but didn’t have my camera (damn) so had to make this sketch when I got home. Part Robert Palmer circa Addicted to Love (skin tight black mini dress), part hipster geek (clumpy brogues and Ray Bans) she had the balance just right.
Best of all I liked the sheer black tights, is it me or are they creeping back? My friend Sarah and I have been championing their return for some time. Hooray. Have a lovely day!
Ever since my friend Leslie bought me a bottle of this stuff a couple of years ago I have just been obsessed. I know, I know, it’s a classic, I’m the last person on the planet to know about it yadda yadda but it smells soooo good. And it’s not at all greasy the way some oils are. And it makes even my scruffy bathroom feel like a hamman. And I love it. So it’s an essential. I thank you.
I had this problem with my eye. It was kind of a red problem. It was a problem that made me want to, you know, reeeeally casually, permanently hold my iPhone or book or whatever over the left hand side of my face.
Or wear a deeply, deeply angled beret at all times (and frankly there is no way of pulling that off well).
This despite the fact that apparently it was really not so obvious to anyone else (is it ever?) But most annoying of all it was a problem that really actually hurt. My eyelid was swollen and red and looking like it was extremely cross indeed.
I tried quite a few things to remedy this situation, I tried hydrocortisone, (yes, I know, it’s bad for your skin, but so is having a REALLY SWOLLEN EYE). I tried every moisturiser I could lay my hands on, even ones that promised to be really gentle and kind and soothing. Nope.
Hello Pinkeye, nice to see you again.
My friend Sarah told me I should try this mad cult-y cream she’d ordered from the states. Really? I don’t think so. And anyway, what if it makes it worse? But then again, Ow, it really does hurt. What’s the harm? Go on then, give me a bit to try.
One day. Gone. Three days. Can’t remember the problem. Done. No more problem.
So, yes, of course, I’m sharing the name of this stuff, in its extremely unprepossessing packaging, with it’s ever so slightly odd smell. And I’m telling you if, like me, you have highly strung skin that likes a little tantrum every now and then, you need this stuff in your bathroom.
Mario Badescu control cream
I am a big cafe fan (honestly? This is a little bit of an understatement). What I really like is somewhere that feels homely, but isn’t my home. Anyone who doesn’t use an official office knows that having meeting places that you know well to discuss work, or not, is just vital. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. This was a new one on me and it certainly channelled the mismatched home vibe I love, right down to having the clean washing piled up on the sofa!