It's 12.13 am, I can't sleep, and I've spent the past few hours looking at all my photo archives, and I've reached the climatic conclusion that I have worn some tragic costumes in the past few years. For example, my particular attire on this occasion (click here to cue laughter and judgement) I clearly deemed in my thrilling youth that it was socially (and morally!?) acceptable to wear a carpet - as my Nokia captures it so well.
The outfit in the pictures was actually from a few weeks ago, when I went to a music festival in my town. My trusty VB (Posh Spice) shorts came out, alongside my snazzy charity shop tweed-esque jacket, that I got a few weeks ago for like a fiver. Winner winner, chicken dinner. Oh god no, that's made me hungry now.
Today I spent hours watching political debates in preparation for my English Language coursework - heavens I'm in genuine shock I actually have done something productive- and then I finished that off by watching History documentaries. So I rewarded myself with marshmallows, and endless spinning in the tree swing, whilst obsessing over Bip Ling's fashion sense. She's cray, but oh my life her wardrobe is killa. Go check her out.
Anywho, farewell, I'm going to go and listen to my French playlist, and pretend I am roaming the streets of Paris at this hour, eating beautiful french delicacies and hanging out with cool people. This will so happen. Bonsoir x
p.s Craaaaay news - I'm going to Marrakech next week wahooo. And all I can think about is all the insane jewellery on the markets I'm going to get, and all the mint tea I'll drown myself in - and the fact I'm going to return to the shire, head to toe in Henna. Big up Morocco


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