Posts tagged Dress up

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#OOTD
Heartshaped Glasses - Amazon | Earring - HM 2016 | Dress | 
Tights - BLOCH | Shoes - Public Desire

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The best thing about this look is the tights from BLOCH. 
Dancer's tights are better value for your money than any other tights
you'll find on the market. 

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They pull you in in all the right places and they can take pressure - 
they don't snag easily.

I do not ascribe to the cheap consumerist culture of buying shitty
pairs of tights and then throwing them out after you've worn them
once or twice.  Invest in decent tights - they last for years.
Learn how to take care of tights too. These are handwash only.

First things first.

Nearly totally wet me’self on what turned out to be like a nigh on one hour walk to the bank IN HEELS. Thanks to the pub that let me use their loo.

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I’m really enjoying ponytails and fringes, I did a meditation with the woman who illustrated the Rider Waite Tarot cards. For a limited time only I’ll be doing readings on my site channelling her – as you all know I can. Pamela Colman Smith. The internet is telling everyone she liked to call herself “Pixie” – that is nonsense. If I picked a parent for her in this time and place, I would pick Dre. I actually struggle to believe that she would’ve made ‘nicknames’ public – she died lonely, alone and friendless. As she would have, Tarot cards have given their readers a lot of power and knowledge that has threatened the patriarchy deeply. She was from Brooklyn. She was in various SECRET societies. She valued the vibration in a NAME. “pixie“? Really? No, no thank you. Later I shall upload some photographs of me that I found in an old diary. There’s one where I wear necklaces the way she does. I love the thought of her time travelling to dress me. If it wasn’t for her cards, and Lisa, I might have died.

http3a2f2fwww.controverscial.com2fpamela_colman-smith_3

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Here’s a life hack. Remember >>this?<<

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I got that to look like that by being a person who decides when she’s gonna pee. And I have had extra large wine bottles shoved up there – much bigger than a baby’s head wine bottles. Ignore the health risks – those are bullshit.

I’m sure I’ll rewrite books on childrearing at some point but if you’re giving birth – smoke weed and masturbate. A lot. Weed is stronger than morphine. I’ve done enough of both  – in serious levels of pain – to know, thank you.

I played dress up in a charity shoppe. I fell in love with this little hairband. I made it look trashy and tacky. Both of those words I comfortably hope to live up to… forever.

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When I was younger, I used to go to shoppes with friends and pick out the most hideous dresses to play dress up with in the changing room. I actually quite liked this one and I left it in the changing room hoping that someone with a little more cash to spend than I had would find it and that it would work for them.

I had to change into ballet shoes because the walk from my place to my bank was mad.

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I went to @Polpo in Brighton yesterday, beside the theatre.

It’s close to fancier shops (I got to take a look around Kurt Geiger, which was still open when I walked out) and a taxi rank.

The atmosphere was unpretentious, and the food was good – although the staff probably need lessons in manners and good service. I felt uncomfortable when two absolutely lovely mature women came in and the lady at the bar didn’t get the fuck out of the bar to help them find seats, or call over one of her colleagues and that’s probably why I’m starting off what would be an otherwise positive review with negativity. I worked in service in bars, restaurants, cafes and in retail, where I struggled to learn the specific details because I take time to settle in – my strength was in making the people I was serving feel like they were being taken care of and they were a priority. My service is so good I will make you feel comfortable being a snob in Slug and Lettuce. As a child, I associated with family who were diplomats and also Jordanian royalty – a descendent of the Prophet Mohammed to be really snide. My vision of the kind of service that deserves being paid-for came from seeing how they were treated, the hostesses at Emirates (I wouldn’t hostess for anyone else and I have issues with their outdated tattoo policy and questionable residency policies also.) and the spiritual school I went to, which taught that service to others was the only worthy aspiration. If you’re one of those wannabe dominatrixes – you have to be able to do both. If you offer shit service you’re never gonna get good service. If you run a business and you aren’t able to do every single job, you can’t expect a standard from anyone else. I’m actually quite offended by people who think they have any business pretending they’re into BDSM – using other people to build your own poor self esteem, or stalking people ‘out of love’ or anything like that is repulsive. It makes you look stupid later when the person you really, really believe really, really wants you to pursue them ends up being superior to you with far less cash. (Cash that you probably stole off your parents without giving anything back. Or cash from a job your parents probably arranged for you.) (All of it – deeply sad.)

Back to Polpo. As I was authoring this (ofcourse I returned to write later-) I heard the words “it’s owned by a vampire” – on Wendy Williams. I had to rewind the video to hear her say “it’s owned by an empire

I didn’t feel unsafe leaving my tap water and my prosecco unattended at the moodily lit bar (it was very new york filter) and I could leave my shopping bags (£1 shoppe and charity shoppe) on the floor beside the bar.
That’s much more significant than you’d think in the U.K – I recall that Danes could leave their drinks unattended in venues in Denmark but I never really felt comfortable doing that because I was a street kid at heart. Keep your things close, at heart. Which is how most Londoners act actually.

It was a comfortable bar that attracted an elegant slash laidback crowd that treated it like a fancy pub – if you go – look nice but not five star nice. ITS A VIBE

are you jelly gordon

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and I got to read through their recipe book – I wish I could’ve afforded to buy a copy because their desserts were fun – and there was a lot of information that made me feel more confident dialoguing with butchers.

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Above I had a Panna Cotta with Tescos mixed berries (which taste 
really good - not a poorly advised purchase nor intended as an insult), 
I had a look at the recipe for the dish in their book and they use a 
lot of vanilla pods - and those aren't cheap. 

It was about £6 for the dessert and if you were looking to go 
somewhere inexpensive for something sweet, I'd recommend it. 

I was genuinely impressed with the level of preparation
that goes into their desserts, actually.

I can comfortably recommend their steak dish, medium rare for me.

As far as critique goes – the meat was well prepared and tasted good. The issue was actually presentation and how it was served – it’s not gourmet dining, and I think the dish should’ve been accompanied by a condiment. I felt rude seasoning it with salt, but it needed something extra.

It was comfortable to eat my meal at the bar, because it was served on a dessert plate. I didn’t feel like I was taking up too much room – even though the bar was active. People weren’t downing their drinks, they were there to converse – and there was no rush or pressure to get people out. I actually felt to stay for longer but I’m on a tight budget right now. If I were trying to plan a date, I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable arranging for a drink, olives and the steak dish as an appetiser to share before moving to the seating area or even going to the theatre. I wasn’t kept waiting after ordering, either.

I know people don’t often go to bars to eat and drink – but you really could at Polpo.

I’m not going to be dishonest here – I wasn’t taken by the olives, people sitting beside me loved theirs – but I’m really particular about olives. I’ll put it down to a preference for the cheap kind *sunglasses emoji* – when they’re preserved in brine, rather than olive oil. Especially when they’ve been left in the jar for long enough that the tastes combine.

I personally think serving olives with a stone is a risk in a bar that puts you at close proximity with people you don’t know. If I were running the restaurant I’d have a choice between the two.

The decor was thoughtful – and fully instagrammable. The music wasn’t trendy, it had pop moments and trumpet moments and it worked with the customers. I enjoyed people watching. For a moment, when I was cutting my olives – as I had seen it done in an episode of Tom and Jerry – I thought I could hear this song.

Is You Is, Or Is You Ain't My Baby as performed by Tom
My sense of humour is all Cool Runnings and Tom and Jerry. And
the nervous breakdowns in Fawlty Towers.

A Youtube Video uploaded by @Doc Henry

Description: Jazz song from cartoon Tom and Jerry (1946) Performed 
by Ira "Buck" Woods

I was thinking of... Craig the barman... 
Obviously I am not Craig the barman's baby but he wishes I was. I know
because I felt embarrassed for him that he couldn't run out to ask
me for my number. You have five seconds to comply and then you are
very much forgotten, Craig the barman.

Craig the barman was a decent flirt who didn’t need to make eye contact, conversate or otherwise intrude on your meal. Every single woman – and man, I believe – at that bar was obsessing over him. Self included. Who taught you that game, Craig. He was only interested in a girl with a bejewelled marie antoinettey afro – I know because same.

I had a small three course meal for £30. If you’re on a paleo diet (ugh) – or a boxer’s diet – you’d enjoy it.


I was going to dye my hair purple but I walked into a hairdresser’s and they offered me a different price to the one on their list. Offer what you’re advertising, if there are errors in your advertising do not offend potential clients by making creative amendments. You come out looking dishonest and if I can’t trust you to offer me the same price on your price list, I’m not trusting you with my amazing hair.

I’ll do my own hair, it’ll look better than the hairdresser that served me – whose hair did not serve as good advertising for her shop. I hope it wasn’t her shop. What a shame though. She seemed to know exactly how much cash I had in my account too. Such a creep.

I went elsewhere to buy anti-frizz serum and dry shampoo.