Fear And Self Loathing In Blogging

About three weeks ago I very excitedly bought myself some flares. My good buddy MissionStyle tipped me off to them and when I tried on in-store I thought 'praise the freakin' lord, job done'. I deffo felt they contained my flab, were the right length and had a decent comfort factor. Tick, tick, tick. Then I shot them. And errrrrything changed. These two meagre frames were the only ones I could salvage from that disastrous SS Titanic of a shoot. And even then- let's be honest- I look horrific. Having to bin a set of a pictures is priddy heartbreaking, and I've gotta confess- the whole débacle made me wanna quit blogging (and not for the first time). I guess we've all been there. You kinda feel 'why am I bothering?', 'why am I so fat?' and 'why does every shoot I do not remotely turn out like I hoped it would?' But I thought I'd disclose these lame-ass shots anyway in order to delve a little more into the wretched thought patterns that whirl round the mind of a fashion blogger, and see if there's owt to draw from them.

Comparison Anxiety

I recently saw an interesting piece in Grazia about a girl who had to get therapy for her instagram 'problems'. Seriously though. She was literally driving herself insane with thoughts that all her friends were leading amaaazing lives and she wasn't. This is basically where logic leaves you and paranoia sets in. It's at times like this I like to revisit a bit of Susan Sontag. If you haven't read her, get on it.

The Girl Can't Help It

There's no getting away from it- I'm short and fat. Whilst my logical mind knows this, I still seem to harbour a very weird misguided notion that when I shoot a look somewhere along the way I will magically turn into Chiara F, Camille C or Gala G. As a blogger you are constantly faced with images of yourself and your physical shortcomings, which is unfortunately where ever decreasing circles of negativity start to fester. 

Style Blackouts

I got it realllly wrong with this outfit. So so wrong. The mirror told me one thing, the camera lens another. I should've worn a shirt and a heel. Probably. And as usual my insistence on wearing a hat didn't help matters either. I used to wear flares allllll the time about five years ago. I remember wrestling a girl in Liberty to the ground for the last pair of 18th Amendment jeans (yes, them!) in a Size 25 and absolutely luvin' them. And I also recall going to Westfield (in Shepherd's Bush) the first weekend it opened wearing a Topshop pair and trotting into Donna Ida only to have the shop assistant declare undying love for my denim. (You know you're doing something right when a girl that works with £200 + jeans all day every day likes your thirty quid jobs). But I guess I was thinner then. 

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

I have to admit I hate shooting, I hate looking at pictures of myself and I hate competing. Which makes it ermmm, quite tricky to be a blogger. But I love clothes. I love them in a way I can't even express, and despite having a face like a bag of spanners and a body like a pre-gastric band patient I don't think I can jump off this kerrrrrazy rollercoaster just yet. Catch you soon (hopefully) xx 

PS Don't hate the flares, hate the player

Skinny Rib- Topshop//Jeans- Topshop

Bomber- Topshop//Fedora- Catarzi//Boots- Gap

The Flares Have It

I dunno about you, but the main problem I've had thus far in trying to find a pair of flares I like can be summed up in one word- fat. Virtually every pair I've squished myself into have made me feel like a right chubby chubster. Almost like the scourge of the remove, you might say. (One for the Billy Bunter fans there). That was, until I happened upon these lil' beauts. They've got a sort of a slight Spanx vacuum-packed effect going on (I like) and it turns out they are also good to exercise in should you feel the need (not so much over here). I've paired them with this tunic top (part of an amaze two-piece) and I must say I feel very 2015 in the whole look (in a 90s revival kinda way). Hit me up with your flare thoughts chicas, catch you soon xx PS Soz for the sans-sunnies pic. You can probably see just how swollen and froggy my eyes are (swear to god they are gonna pop out me heid soon) PPS Double soz for the picture overload PPPS Triple soz for the unfortunate waistband line manifesting in most of these frames (just wanted to explain lest you thought I had some bizarre hip-to-hip scar thing going on)

Flares- H&M//Tunic- H&M

Bag- Gucci//Boots- Zara

Beanie- Topshop//Sunnies- And Other Stories

Apartment Pants

Remember that episode of Friends where Jen-An invents apartment pants? Ever since then I've been obsessed with the very concept of APs. These amaze new trews from H&M don't exactly qualify for the category, but I like to make priddy much every trouser I own go under that heading. (Just coz I love saying apartment pants/buying apartment pants/pretending I'm in an ep of Friends 10 years too late). So, let's discuss these APs. They've got a bit of everything going on. A bit of smartness, a bit of relaxedness, a bit of flare and of course, a bit of apartmentness. (I also love the jacket that goes with them. Pure Space 1999 Meets Man About Town 1974). I decided to put them with a skinny rib cotton polo neck which was something of a mistake, given the state of my front bumpers. There's basically just too much of them to set this top of nicely as I would've liked (and let's be honest, there's a lorra droopage too). Ever since I had to change my diet though, to try and help my eye condition (no wheat no dairy no sugar no fruit no caffeine no nicotine no deadly nightshades no nuthin') my body is just expanding rapidly in all directions (I think it must be the high protein, cut me in half and all you will see is avocado and quinoa). Anyroad. Are you feeling any new trooser shapes this season? Are you embracing flares? And tell me I'm not to only nutjob to base my wardrobe on a sitcom :) Catch you soon xx

Skinny Rib- Topshop//Apartment Pants- H&M

Beanie- Topshop//Sunnies- And Other Stories

Sneaks- Adidas//Cardi- H&M