Clothes clothes clothes, Music music music, Boys boys boys

Viv Albertine, I love you so much. Even though she grew up more than forty years before me, never have I related to something so much than when reading her autobiography.

vivalbertine.com

First of all the title is good enough anyway, I mean it pretty much sums up my life, the contents of the group chat I have with my mates (minus some bits about food and pooing) and the thoughts of any teenage girl that has ever walked the earth. As well as being an amazing music biography and an insight into what it was really like to be in London in the seventies, Albertine discusses some of the best fashion moments of the decade, and most importantly, gives the most honest portrayal of what it is truly like to be a teenage girl that I have ever read. Men, women, boys and girls should all read this book. It is moving and funny, and if nothing else, it might help you to understand adolescent girls a bit more. Viv Albertine, you're the coolest woman ever. 

Deadline Chic: When InDesign has made your skin go grey and your eyes go bloodshot.

Help. Send help.

I know I'm a lazy person anyway, so my effort towards my appearance is normally embarrassingly minimal for a fashion student, but I appear to have hit an all time low. My days are now spent locked in my cell of a room staring at a screen and praying that the InDesign gods will come down and save me. All fonts now look the same, images have begun to blur into one, and my fingers are getting repetitive strain injury from typing the word lipstick. I have gone to bed the last five, I repeat five nights, at 10pm, listening to the soundtrack of my flatmates laughing and drinking and just being normal human beings who actually leave their rooms for more than just to get some weetabix. I haven't even made it to Tesco this week, and I'm worried that my lack of vitamins is leading to early signs of scurvy.

But from these dark times which have left my skin pasty and hair unwashed at least has sprung some brilliant outfits. I use the word brilliant very loosely here. There's nothing quite like an imminent deadline to test how much you actually care about how you look. The key to nailing deadline chic is firstly, comfort. Most of my outfits are currently pyjama based, basically pyjamas thinly disguised as legitimate clothes so that if I have a breakdown I can run to the shop for some chocolate. Another key feature I've found of my new look is what I like to think of as very new and innovative colour combinations. Despite the new grey tinge that my skin has adopted I decide to abandon my normal uniform of black and offset my pasty skin with the brightest colours I can find. I didn't even know I owned a florescent pink top but hey, I'm wearing it! If nothing else, these terrible outfits are at least preparing my eyes for the brightness of when I see sunlight again. 

Transparent

Transparent. Ahhh where to start? The best times in my life are the days when I binge watch this programme all in one go. Only moving out of my vegetive state to get food. And the worst times, well, they are the other 364 days of the year when I am waiting for the producers to make a new series.

So Transparent, which tells the story of 70 year old Maura Pfefferman, a transgender woman, as she comes out to her family and begins to create herself a new life,  was especially relevant last year as the media finally seemed to start to recognise the trans community, and more people began to question gender in general. But that's not just why I love this programme. Yes it's modern, and relevant, and long-awaited. But most of all, it's just bloody funny. It's an amazing piece of television that will make you feel literally all of the feels. Honestly, watching this show I've laughed, I've cried... I've wondered how hard it would be for me to convert to Judaism. Despite Maura's children all being essential narcissistic and selfish you can't help become emotionally invested in each one of them. And that is possibly because they seem so real; you can see aspects of yourself in all of them thanks to writer Jil Solway's effortless portrayal of a real, modern, dysfunctional family. 

Photograph- Instagram

One of the real stars of the show's second series is Hari Nef, a rising star in the world of acting and modelling who just so happens to also be a proud member of the trans community. As well as being the first transgender woman to be signed globally by IMG and walking for Gucci, Nef has been raising transgender issues, chatting with Lena Dunham in a “Women of the Hour” podcast and visiting the White House as part of a “Champions of Change” tribute to lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender artists.  So watch out world, cause this one's destined for big things. And I can't wait to see more of her

The Noughties Fashionistas

The Noughties were called this for a reason. Errm no, obviously nothing to do with numbers, but because of all the straight up naughty, naughty trends that this decade oversaw. From rara skirts over trousers, to hipster boot cut jeans, forget the 80s because this may just have been the naughtiest decade for fashion, ever. Let's remember some of the highlights, shall we.

Coloured skinny jeans had a big moment in the mid 2000s. Who here can say they didn't own a pair? If you can, I envy you, I had multiple.

What about fake pearls? No? How about beads in general? Claire's Accessories sold a wide selection, that of course would be wrapped round your neck twice, creating a groovy little choker with half of the necklace. Two necklaces in one?! How cool, right.

Halter necks!! Remember them?

I know I have already mentioned these bad boys, but rara skirts had quite the time in the 2000s. I remember begging my mum for one. And this trend just wouldn't die! When people began to get bored of their little old rara skirt (errm, how?!) the look was reinvented by the genius who decided to wear it over their bootcut jeans. Any skirt or dress over jeans was good to go in the naughties though. Mmm, stylish.

Bandanas. Bandanas everywhere. 

Low rise jeans. Why were they so low around your waist? I don't think that can have been comfy. It was probably also slightly inappropriate for an 8 year old child but I ran with it anyway.

Layered tops. Ooh the noughties loved a good layer. Remember, you could channel your inner Avril Lavigne and wear a t-shirt on top of a long sleeved top? Yeah, that looked great. 

Studded belts. I wasn't actually lucky enough to own one of these, but I could still appreciate everyone else's. Particularly those that read 'Jesus loves you', stylish and spreading a positive message? What's not to like?

Uggs. I can say no more on this front. A moment of silence please for the Ugg boot.

Denim skirts! Yes, they looked great with your Uggs.

But guys, don't look back in embarrassment and regret your questionable naughties style, don't pretend it didn't happen. Look it was a hard time, we all went through it. And we're all better people for it now. 

Seriously, we ALL went through it

Photograph- popsugar.com

New York Graffiti

Graffiti is always a great insight into the city you're in and how its people think and feel. As well as the Highline highlighting some of the best pieces of graffiti, New York had a lot more amazing street art to offer. Here are some of my favourites.

This is my personal favourite. Tacos everything, ladies and gentlemen.

New York

New York New York. So good they named it... after Yorkshire.

I, like most other sane people in the world, have always dreamed of going to New York. And after almost 20 years of waiting, last week I was lucky enough to go. And it didn't disappoint. 

I was a living tourist cliché, hiking around the streets of the best city on earth with my camera in hand, and buying all the I love NY merchandise they had to offer. But as well as the obligatory trip to the Statue of Liberty, photos from the top of the Empire State Building and trying to cheer at the right times during a basketball game, I did manage to get out and see more of New York than what lies on 5th Avenue. 

Actual real life unfiltered picture from my morning run round New York.
Which is probably the coolest thing I ever thought I'd say.
(Don't worry, I had two muffins after)

After seeing the Highline in 'What Maisie Knew' (which is a really good film, if you haven't seen it!) and reading about it in Garage magazine, I knew that was somewhere I definitely wanted to go, and the abandoned rail tracks, decorated with graffiti art led me down to the Chelsea neighbourhood. Chelsea Market was amazing, and I returned to the hotel that day with the completely necessary purchases of a bag featuring Michelle Obama on a swing, and the best gelato I have ever eaten. Ever. Seriously just thinking about that gelato is making me a bit emotional right now. 

Another place that I loved was SoHo, filled with great shops and cafés, it made me wish I had as much money as all the arty celebrities that call this borough their regular haunt. 
Instead, I stared longingly into the Burberry store and the infamous Jack's Wife Freda café and dragged myself back to reality, and to the tat shops filled with New York merchandise where I belong.

I mean, I feel like I'm bragging now, but another amazing thing was my trip to the Museum of Modern Art. I didn't want to leave the installation of the infamous zine shop Newsstand which has been taken from its original location in the Lorimer-Metropolitan subway station in Williamsburg and recreated for your viewing pleasure within the museum. It was an exact recreation of the shop from the time that it closed down, even down to the 2014 calendar hanging inside, and allowed visitors to interact with all aspects of the installation exactly as they would have been able to do in its original form. This is probably why I loved it so much, it was basically a shopping experience. Magazine shopping at that, which is probably one of my favourite hobbies of all time. (My refusal to leave this particular piece may also have had something to do with the not unattractive males manning the store.)

The Newsstand store

I could talk for days about how completely amazing my time in New York was but I've already bored my flatmates, family, pets and the strangers I pass on the street with that already. New York doesn't just live up to its expectations set from its countless appearances in television and film, it surpasses them. It's so easy to see why one place has generated such amazing art, music and fashion throughout history. Plus they have really nice food there. New York, I love you. Please, let me come back. 

Starman

It flashed up on my news app alerts and I swiped it away without reading it. It's an automatic reaction for me because the updates are normally some bullshit about David Cameron or something else that I equally don't want to read. But then I stopped for a second. I didn't want to reopen the page. I didn't want it to confirm what I thought I had just read.

It was about 6:30 on a Monday morning, I was on my way to New York City. And David Bowie was dead. I looked around the coach almost frantically. It couldn't be true. The majority of the coach were asleep but I didn't understand it. How could he be dead? How could he be not alive any more and everyone else just be sat here like normal, like the whole world hadn't just changed. 

David Bowie was a hero. He was my hero. (No crappy pun intended, I'm normally a big pun fan, but I'm still a bit too sad for that.) I don't really know a time when he wasn't in my life. My mum used to play him on a homemade mixed tape in the car when we were little and since then I've not stopped listening. I could go on about my favourite songs, and favourite eras, and favourite outfits. But nobody wants to here that. Everyone loves Bowie, and everyone has their own thoughts on how his music made them feel and how his work inspired them. And plus if I think about it too much I might cry. 

I know it sounds ridiculous. After I discovered The Beatles as a kid and subsequently found out that John Lennon was already dead I was pretty cut up about that too. It's the curse of being a fan girl. So, instead I'm just going to say thanks for all the endless amazingness that Bowie brought into this little football we call planet Earth. And, that he will never really die. The proof of that is already here in the countless artists, musicians, designers and stylists that he continues to inspire today and will forever. Long live David Bowie. xxx

Mary Kate and Ashley

Did someone say heroes? Yeah, I thought so.

So maybe they aren't the most perfect role models. (See history of issues with body image and the fact that Mary Kate had bowls filled with cigarettes as centre pieces at her recent wedding.) But I grew up with these chicks and not much has changed from when I pined after their bandanas and fresh-to-death clothes in So Little Time, to now.

The coolest twins in the world know a thing or two about style and have the most enviable wardrobe in. the. world. They also make their flawless wardrobe available to us through their fashion lines Elizabeth and James and The Row (albeit and wholly unreachable prices).

Their androgynous and oversized signature look is the epitome of cool, but whilst they manage to look effortlessly chic, my efforts to recreate this are far less successful. Instead of looking like I have just strolled off the runway, my baggy attire makes me look more like I have just crawled out of bed... and not in a good way. Unless you have a waif like figure like my dear chums, the Olsens, oversized is generally not kind. It's a dangerous game trying to stop your boyfriend jeans from just accentuating the bits you're trying to hide, making you look approximately four dress sizes bigger and hiding any good bits you might have in the process. I also have it on good authority that this look isn't exactly a favourite with the male species. 

But all this doesn't stop me from loving it... or the twins. My attempts to be them will continue, undeterred. And, yes maybe it will repel boys, but my god, at least I will be comfy. 

Poetry

Hey guys, guess what! Poetry is really cool!

Aaand, maybe we've just found the real reason that I'm single. Forget the never ending questionable style decisions, I think this might just have something to do with it. What 20 year old boy says 'Oh yeah, I'd really like a bird who's into poetry'? Yeah, I'm not sure either. 

But it's true guys, poetry is cool. Well I think it's pretty alright anyway. And last year saw a lot more poets and spoken word artists coming into the spotlight. Boring nights spent alone in my room are often filled with Youtube searches of the latest poetry slams and spoken word and of course the master himself John Cooper Clarke, and hopefully, thanks to artists like George the Poet, I might not be considered such a loser for doing this for much longer. I probably will though. 

If you're bored, or want to avoid doing work, or like me just like poetry then here is a juicy one to get ya hooked. Don't worry, it's not deep or emotional, it's not about love or death, or the meaning of life. It's about falafel. And who doesn't love those little balls of delight?

Jaden Smith For Louis Vuitton

Today it was announced that Jaden Smith is going to be the new face of the Louis Vuitton womenswear collection (pause for collective cheers) because, despite a couple of moody, negative articles online, this is really good news people! 2015 definitely saw a lot more people beginning to question gender stereotypes, particularly within fashion, and figures like Caitlyn Jenner (whatever your opinions on her) also seemed to encourage a bigger acceptance and celebration of the trans community.

Photograph: Bruce Webber/ Louis Vuitton

For me the best thing about this campaign is that it's not all about the fact that Will Smith's son is in it, or that he's wearing a skirt. It's just a really beautiful picture, and really great clothes. It's not some big token gesture shouting 'Hello! Male celebrity wearing a skirt, look at us, please buy our clothes'. And I love it for that. I've been wearing boy's clothes forever so it's about time we accepted that boys can wear ours too- and still look fit. Go on lads. Work it. 

Unexpected Style Heroes: Jeremy Corbyn

As the leader of the Labour Party shuffles around his lil' ol' cabinet it got me shuffling round the world's photo album that is google images to find some of everyone's favourite JC's (sorry Jesus) best style moments. What's that? Didn't think the 66 year old politican had style?? Ho ho ho and har de har, I laugh at your foolishness (I don't really laugh, to be fair, it's an easy assumption to make.)

 But look at him here, working the straw fedora like no man has before. Clearly following Kanye's infamous line 'all white errything'. Is he on his way to the office? Is he on his way to the airport? Who knows? More importantly, who cares?

Hat again. Love it. Proving that he, like myself, is definitely a hat fan. And who doesn't  admire that in a man. Like I've said, it takes courage to wear a hat, and Jeremy's got it. Also baker boy? What a hat of choice. Yes, love it Jezza, v. trendy indeed. 

And I couldn't not include an old school JC picture in here. He genuinely looks really good here. Great shirt and jacket combo. Would wear both. Alsoooo... look at that beard. He was WAY ahead of that trend. Go on, son. 

Photographs- Pinterest

EYEBROWS: what's the big deal???

It's undeniable that eyebrows have been one of the biggest rising stars of the past five years. I remember a time when I didn't have to think about those little hairs above my eyes, they were always there, just doing their thing, stopping sweat getting in my corneas and whatnot. Then all of a sudden. Bam. I was supposed to grow and pluck, and draw and dye, and shape and... I'm not really sure what else actually but the earlier list is still quite a bloody lot if you ask me anyway.

The thing is though, my eyebrows were destined for the nineties, when Kate Moss got everyone reaching for the tweezers and plucking 'till they were barely visible. Yep, that's my eyebrows. Consisting of about two white-blonde hairs per brow, they're not exactly rivalling Lily Collins any time soon, but I was ok with that really. Nobody seemed to notice, apart from my sister who would get endless enjoyment seeing my eyebrows turn bright white whenever we went on holiday to anywhere plus 20 degrees. I don't even think most boys registered eyebrows when looking at a girls face. That's until she came along. And you all know who I'm talking about. Cara bloody Delevingne. And those bloody eyebrows.

I think most women had probably pined after the eyebrows of original brow icon Audrey Hepburn at some point or another, but it was just written off as a bad job. That's until little old Delevingne came along and sales for eyebrow pencils and brushes and dyes went through the roof. Now we were supposed to achieve this look at home, despite our lack of actual eyebrow and despite the fact that even if we did somehow achieve her look, the rest of our face would still be... well, ours.

Photograph- Pinterest

And if that weren't bad enough, then came the rise of the bleached brow. The counter trend to the big, black brow, Miley did it, Kendall did it. Christ even Kim Kardashian bleached her eyebrows. But how would this go down in the real world? Maybe it would be the answer to all my prayers. Maybe with invisible eyebrows the boys would come a running...

Or maybe not. The dye is ordered people. I will report back.