Wednesday, 15 May 2019


So, presuming the majority of my audience are millennials I'm also going to presume you've all worked some sort of customer services job?! And therefore will totally understand where I'm coming from when I say that working full time, in customer services, makes you bitter.

I like my job plenty but you do end up disliking humanity a little more every day. In general, I'd say I'm an otherwise very positive and hopeful person when it comes to people. I genuinely believe all people have the potential to be good and kind (though some choose to be shitbags) yet, somehow, this doesn't happen in a 'the customer is always right' world. I'd like to point out it is only the customer who believes this to be true; it is, in fact, a ridiculous notion, because quite frankly if you have been trained to do the job and are doing it, you are immediately more qualified to know what is right and it is rarely the customer.

Like anyone, I go home and talk about what I did all day at work, the good and bad bits - often focusing on the one shitty customer I served or spoke to, even though I also served a hundred nice people and worked well with my colleagues. There needs to be a shift in the way I focus my energy on this, disregarding the not-so-nice moments and focusing on the more positive ones. Acknowledging the fact that this is what is making me bitter is the first step.

I don't think anyone enjoys feeling bitter; I certainly don't and to be honest, it ends up giving me a headache. I don't like having the weight of hatred and loathing on my shoulders when I could be concentrating on all the love I have instead. So, I may currently be feeling as bitter as a lemon, but I'm trying to let that go.

Happy mental health awareness week and welcome to the ridiculous inner workings of my mind...


*photos featured by the wonderful Magdalena.

Wednesday, 1 May 2019


So I’m a busy body, I’ve never ever just had one job or one hobby, I do as much as I fucking can and I do it until I’m drained dry- this is what I mean when I describe myself as high functioning... 

The thing is I’ve only just found out that high functioning depression is a thing. You may be aware that I am diagnosed with severe depression- which I have been taking medication for daily for two years+ now- but high functioning is apparently less severe... in that, you can still do normal day to day things... so it feels like I have this. Although I don’t, the only reason I can physically get on with my day to day tasks is my medication... so I don’t think I have high functioning depression, I’m just high functioning and depressed. 

I’d also like to point out that I love my friends and I love socialising and doing stuff and that I’m pretty high energy... and therefore when I get home I am beyond exhausted and just don’t really ever want to leave my bed or my own head for a while. Anyone who has ever lived with me I’m sure is aware of this mixture of super high and super low energy that just seems to be a part of who I am.

I have always been loud and bold and really proud of who I am. This, combined with the anxiety and panic attacks of my teenage years and then of my current depression, is just confusing? I don’t know if any of this ramble will be making sense but even though I am all of these things, and kind of always have been, for some reason it doesn’t make any sense to me. Like, how? How can I be so loud
and giggly whilst severely depressed?

Unfortunately, this post will have no conclusion: a fact which is currently stressing me out. I just wanted to open this up to you all, I’m in my own head a lot of the time and I needed to get all this out so that I can hopefully understand it all at some point. If you have any thoughts on this, please, please comment or message me because I’d love to chat. 


*All photos in this post by Scarlett Stevens,  make-up by Angie & models are myself, Chloe & Eilis

Wednesday, 24 April 2019



Lord knows I love a good tonal outfit, get me all those whites and neutrals, take cute pictures of me and don’t let me eat anything red... 

My favourite days are when it’s just me and Finn and the air and the sun and nothing else matters or has any importance. These pictures were taken on one of the lucky days where neither I nor Finn had work and we went wandering and it was beyond lovely. 

My next blog post will be a bit more chatty I just don't have much to say today.


Tuesday, 16 April 2019


Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday to meeeee, I am now 23. Yay to ageing...

So today I turned 23 and I think I'm happy about it. I'd been sort of practising being 23, in the hope that now that I am I'll remember to tell people that instead of still saying 22, something I think we all do when we get a year older. lol. Last week I had an early birthday day out bowling and drinking and eating with some of my best friends which was beyond lovely. Both last week and today I have been spoilt with love from my friends and family which is always rather nice and I'm very grateful to have such amazing people in my life.

It's not news that I'm not a fan of birthdays, because I'm really not. It's too much pressure to be happy and have fun and then if I don't get to spend my day how I had planned I just end up disappointed and sad. Today I'm seeing a couple of my best pals and then just having dinner with Finn and my family so it'll be quite difficult to be massively disappointed. I did want a trifle though and that won't be happening... I'm going to improvise some sort of cake which should be almost as nice as a trifle.

I probably have more to say but I'm actually now going to continue listening to Taylor Swift and have a dance party while I get ready for today.



Tuesday, 2 April 2019



The 60s called to tell me that they're peachy keen on my look, thanks to this Traffic People mini, and that as soon as the time machine is ready,  I'm welcome anytime as long as I look this cute. Seriously though, how cute is this outfit?! I kind of wish I was doing a Theresa May and prancing through a meadow because I'd look way cooler than she ever could.

Traffic People were kind enough to gift me this dress and it's safe to say I'm obsessed.... the quality is beautiful and the print is something I know I'll never tire of. Paired with this pearl beaded collar from asos it's the most gorgeous little party look. Now, someone invite me to a party asap.

In other non-dress-related news, I got a new tattoo which I'm well pleased with. I'm not showing you though, not intentionally and not anytime soon because I  just don't want to, especially while it's healing, no one needs to see the grossness of a fresh tattoo if they don't know what to expect.


Tuesday, 26 March 2019


I'm turning off my comments on Instagram... I hadn't even considered this until I read Taylor Swift's 30 things I've learned before 30 for Elle but it sparked a lot of further thought and conversation for me. I obviously don't care what you think of Taylor Swift, you don't have to be a fan to take interest in what she has to say.

"One thing I do to lessen this weird insecurity laser beam is to turn off comments. Yes, I keep comments off on my posts. That way, I’m showing my friends and fans updates on my life, but I’m training my brain to not need the validation of someone telling me that I look 🔥🔥🔥... I think it’s healthy for your self-esteem to need less internet praise to appease it, especially when three comments down you could unwittingly see someone telling you that you look like a weasel that got hit by a truck and stitched back together by a drunk taxidermist. "


I realise Taylor had very different reasons for doing this for herself: haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate... And I don't exactly get any hate but I think I maybe subconsciously rely on the public reassurance that Instagram comments give me. You're telling me I'm pretty and you're telling me in front of all these other people, a lovely little ego boost- an extra bit of serotonin for my depressed soul. I just don't want it anymore, if someone desperately wants to pay me a compliment, or have a chat, my messages are open and that way, with no audience, it is a more personal interaction.

Another thing I started to think about regarding Instagram comments is that often they can be for selfish gain by the author. I don't presume this of anyone at all but inevitably if you're commenting on someone's photos, a few of their followers might head over to your profile for a nosey. There's absolutely nothing wrong with this, it just made me realise that I'm after a bit more sincerity and transparency regarding my online self. I am me, I am not the comments on a post.

Essentially, I don't want to ever need internet praise, especially in any sort of public capacity, I will still comment on photos I'm fond of because it is honestly just a habit, but I'm going to make more of an effort to turn these into far more personal interactions. I absolutely live for friendship and love in the world and I love seeing other Man City players comment on Leroy Sane's posts telling him he looks fire (because damn straight, he does) but it's also funny to think that actually, that's none of my business? I should be an outsider in that interaction. Possibly a weird example but it's what came to mind...

I'm also really bloody hoping that my decision to do this doesn't come across as vanity or self-importance because it genuinely is just for my sanity. I think it's for the best, for me. My comments will always be on, on my blog, and I'll always be reachable. The only concern I have about doing this is that I may be shooting my self in the foot in regards to Instagram stats, and gaining followers or whatever but I'm just gonna have to shrug that off- maybe that's part of the problem too.

If you have any thoughts on all this, please pop-up to me somewhere for a chat because I'd really like to know what you think.


*gifted item in return for instagram content/ not a paid AD


Tuesday, 19 March 2019


So, leaving a blog post til the last minute is not usually a very 'me' move but I just didn't know what to say. I finished work at lunch today and spent my afternoon with Finn. We had a beer, got some cake, ate the cake and now I'm writing this...

At the moment I'm finding it difficult being myself and being present, I'm often very floaty and distant and should probably see a Doctor because it's not particularly fun. I am slightly worried however that it's nothing to do with my health and maybe just a lack of focus? I really miss being at university and being in education and though it's nice knowing I will be going back to do a masters it feels so far away.

I'm trying to regain a bit of focus by keeping on top of plans and organisational stuff whilst also making sure I do spontaneous fun stuff, like going for beer and cake on a Tuesday afternoon. I know I'll be fine though and that whatever this is, it will pass.

I do have more exciting things coming up on the blog in the next few weeks, so do keep your eyes and oranges peeled, but today I'm afraid it's just a pic of me having a beer.


Wednesday, 6 March 2019


I am notoriously early for everything: I am also a morning person, I just am. Don’t get me wrong I love a night out and having a boogie (I come across a lot older than I am using the word boogie don’t I?) and right now I’m writing this at midnight in bed but I just fucking love mornings. I love the sunrise, I love waking up feeling refreshed and awake and I like getting stuff done before lunchtime. If I don’t get up until late morning or midday I feel rubbish. Like a slug. Like I can’t possibly achieve anything now because the best bit of the day has gone. 


This love for mornings and my sense of belonging in the morning, therefore, meant I was over the moon that the lovely Scarlett Stevens was more than happy to meet up with me on a Sunday morning before work to do this photo shoot. It was such a great couple of hours, which lead to me being in a great mood at work all afternoon. I was up and out the house by 8am; dewy, cold, morning air on my face- even though I hadn’t eaten or had any coffee yet- I was happy. We had gorgeous weather, creating these insanely glowy shots of (a usually gloomy/ grey in February) Manchester, we wandered around some of my favourite buildings and places and I made a wonderful new friend. 

Wednesday, 27 February 2019


Okay so I have not been this excited about a blog post in quite a while; partly because of the absolutely gorgeous photos my lovely friend Eilish took of me and partly because I actually have quite a lot to say. 

For the most part, I’m in a really happy place at the moment, I’ve got loads of great new, gorgeous, creative friends; I’m super happy within myself and really enjoying dressing up and shooting and being a little busy body. 


I don’t know if I’m at that proper adult stage in life yet when everyone says it’s difficult to make friends... I thought I was but I’ve made loads of friends recently so maybe I’m not an adult yet? I’m definitely not trying to sound braggy or anything, I’ve just been hanging out with some seriously lovely gals and I’m really flipping happy about it. It’s weird growing up and moving away and friends moving off and suddenly you can’t just go and knock on for your mate or have a sleepover at the weekend. I’m so proud of all my friends for everything they’re all doing, I just wish I could see them more so now it’s nice that I have more friends who I can see and spend time with. I don’t think I’m explaining any of this particularly well but I’m sure some of you can relate. Basically, I’m saying that it’s nice having friends... 

I say I’m mostly in a really happy place, and that is true and annoyingly I think it has a lot to do with the weather. As you may know, I have depression (wooooo) which is actually, probably, S.A.D (Seasonal Affective Disorder) as I have discussed with my Doctor who also thinks that’s the case. The problem with S.A.D is that you’d have to be having your mood monitored for literally years to know for sure that it is that and not just depression. 

Now, because it’s been uncharacteristically sunny and warm for February in the UK the past few days, I’ve suddenly become a lot perkier and happy, which in turn is depressing because this weather is actually due to global warming which is terrible. Now I don’t want to lecture anyone on the effects humans have had on the planet as I shouldn’t need to, nor am I qualified to- but I do care, a lot, about the environment, more so than I do about my own mental health. I’m fine with having depression, it’s part of me and I kind of like that, I can rely on a somewhat never-ending sadness (lol help) and though it has been nice for the sun to come out and make me happy, I’d actually quite like a normal winter back. 

So in conclusion, I like having friends, I tolerate depression and I do not like global warming. Thanks for listening to today’s TED talk? 


PS- if you ever needed proof of my dyspraxic, wandering mind, this post is probably enough

Tuesday, 19 February 2019


Let’s dig out the vintage bits and dress real cute just because... 


Although actually, the vintage bits featured in this post are all new to me. I bought them at Barnardos Vintage in Cheadle, Stockport, and they’re god damn dreamy. The lilac shirt only cost my £2 and once I’d cut the shoulder pads out (not for me) is just beautiful. I hate the colour purple - I dunno why, something to do with compromising on bedroom wall colours as a child I think - but somehow am just obsessed with this top. I think it’s the potential I could see it having in my wardrobe, it’s a colour that looks good with warm and cool tones and light and dark colours and that made me happy. The jacket is the other vintage piece I’m wearing, I bought it with a matching skirt and it is so Chanel-esque which I’m of course keen on. The skirt needs a bit of work to be something I’ll actually wear but the jacket was good to go and I couldn’t resist pairing it with the lilac blouse and a denim mini, I mean seriously- how cute is this little outfit. Super-70s and 100% me. 

I love love love feeling like myself in an outfit and this is the kind of look I know I’ll still be wearing in 40 years... absolutely timeless.

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