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Showing posts from February, 2017

On buying a scarf from H&M

There are few things an unsigned, unpublished writer can afford after they sacrifice a fulltime job for the life of, well, an unsigned, unpublished writer. But the basic need to keep one’s self warm during British winter can result in the need to splash (minimal) cash.   And this is where London truly sets itself apart from Melbourne – in the abundance of cheap clothing stores that don’t make you leave looking like you only spent twenty quid on your entire outfit. (And yes, I know H&M and Zara and Topshop have all opened in the Southern Hemisphere but…they’re just not.the.same. The Aussie stores are a season behind, the range is a quarter of what it is in the UK and the clothes are never as cheap as their European counterparts.) So, with eight pounds burning a hole in my pocket, I headed to my local H&M in Angel to find me the perfect winter scarf. After a good fifteen minutes of getting in everyone’s way as I tried on almost every colour, texture and length on offer, I

On getting smart at Oxford

Skipping lectures for coffee and cheap beer. Leaving assignments until the night before. Making friends for life (but not really). Finally finding subjects to love… in the last year. Experimenting with <insert vice here>. Otherwise known as the pretty average, fairly normal, university life experienced by most. Do you know what’s not a pretty average, fairly normal university life? That which is experienced at Oxford. The Radcliffe Camera - because all good things come back to Harry Potter

On being drunk in Shoreditch at 2am

When you walk into one of East London's finest (read: dive-iest) watering holes at 8.30pm and there are people already dancing on the bar, you can guess how your night is going to go, especially if you yourself have some experience with dancing atop bars in such establishments. But, these days, you know you should know better, should only have the two drinks, should try to be home by midnight at the very latest because your twenties are weeelllll behind you (and should most definitely stay there) and YOU HAVE TO GET UP AND WRITE THE NEXT DAY!! Shoreditch - where anything/everything grinds These thoughts can clamour to be heard all they want but when 90s R&B is playing even louder, well, you know who's going to win. 90s R&B. Every.Time. And before you know it, you've joined the sweaty, pulsing herd that have come to Shoreditch for a big, drunken night out and all thoughts of being a studious, productive soon-to-be-best-selling author completely evaporate.

On using my blog to say my piece

I don’t often find myself in agreement with royalty. We have different lives, different priorities and move in very different circles, so it's rare that our interests align. While I have made various efforts to, at the very least, stand at the periphery of a royal circle, any royal circle, I know that the golden triangle that is Wills, Kate and Harry is destined to always be out of my reach/life/world. So then why, you may ask, am I talking about royalty during a week that has seen the world tear itself at the seams? Well, I’m talking about them because today I found myself in agreement with Prince Charles. More specifically, in agreement with something the prince said at the World Jewish Relief charity dinner. The work of World Jewish Relief enables us to rally together. To do what we can to support people practically, emotionally and spiritually, particularly at a time when the horrific lessons of the last war seem to be in increasing danger of being forgotten. This very a