Lilac and Red

Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm a genius or an idiot.  I wanted a pastel-y, sixties look, but none of my pale pink or powder blue or even silver accessories were doing the trick.

 

 

So I went for red, and ended up looking like the bastard offspring of the Christmas Fairy and the Easter Bunny.

 

And look!  Fairy wings!

 

 

Dress: Primark
Shoes: Topshit, 2008

Belt: was a Christmas present, but I suspect H&M

Hair: Poundland version of Bumpits!*

 

 Photobooths.  Best idea EVER.

 

 

*'Bumpits' is a dreadful product name.  Bum.  Pits.  Why did they ever think it was a good move?



Seventies Sulkyface

I got my fringe trimmed a couple of days ago, and since then there's been something not quite right about it.  It's gone a bit '70s pageboy.  I think there's too much upside-down-U-shape going on...  I've got a sadface fringe!

Today I went with it, but I think soon I might get the scissors out...  Try to become a little more Bettie and a little less Purdey.

For now though, a dress with a pointy seventies collar and some sulkyfaced Yestercolour-ified photos of Bette in the wrong decade.

 I think this face was 'Am I in shot here?' puzzlement!

Bette with a fringe on top

Good morning viewers! 

The summer holidays are nearly upon us (HOW did that happen?!) and the end-of-the-year celebration events have already begun.  I type this nursing a slightly fuzzy head after last night's staff party, but these photographs were taken on Thursday, after my fellow LSA chums and I stole out of work early to gossip over coffee and cake.

(For variation, a slightly different view of my slug-infested wilderness of a garden!)

For the first time in a fortnight, it WASN'T raining, so I celebrated with a slice of chocolate and amaretto torte almost as big as my head.  The girls said I wouldn't be able to finish it, but I bloody well did!  (It cost me three quid, there was no way I was leaving any for Miss Manners!)

Then I bicycled into town and got myself a fringe.  Do you like?  It keeps tickling me!

(Practising reposing for the hols)

There is nothing very interesting about this combination of clothes, but for some reason I really like the look.  Dress-related fact:  Princess Eugenie has the same one.

What the hell, let's make this a Boring Outfit Post BOGOF.  Here's a quick snap of me ready to go out last night.

Pay no attention to the mess.  That's my tights box overflowing as usual!

Black Lace and Paper Poppies

I'm glad I re-discovered my little lace bolero thing the other day around a month ago. (Dear self, post mindless drivel on The Internet more frequently.)  I've been in an absolute frenzy of busyness and activity since then, and I've been doing it all whilst wearing my bolero. I've barely taken it off!  Here are two boring outfit post pictures, which accidentally both involve that wonderful garment:

There was a complicated reason why I had to wear orange, and since my plot to get around this was vetoed by Simon on the grounds that The Simpsons isn't an acceptable style muse (Red dress, yellow tights, red shoes - I still think it would have worked), I instead opted for this orange skirt from the Dorothy Perkins sale rail. (I have had great success in Dotty P's sales lately.  The DID have an orange version of my collection of colourblock dresses, and I would have snapped it up had it not been a size too small!)

Outfit Two is from a burlesque show on 11/11/11, and as usual, my completely frivolous tribute to Armistice Day was to stick poppies in my hair.  But look!  Look at my amazing rockabilly fringe!  Best one I've ever done!  I went to the Jeepers Peepers reunion show at the Cluny and had a brilliant time pretending to be cooler and rockabillier than I am.  Maybe in my next quarter-century I'll have tattoos and dubious piercings...

So long, readers.  Maybe I'll update again before this time next month, and MAYBE when I do I'll be wearing something other than my lace bolero!  Over and out.

"If you don't wear lipstick, I can't talk to you." - Isabella Blow

Hello readers!  It is peeing it down outside, and I'm supposed to be working (No, not school on a Sunday - this is my other job.  I moonlight as an audio typist.  I take dictation, isn't that charmingly retro?)

This is obviously what I look like when I'm typing focus groups.

The end of term draws near, and I have been stretching the definition of 'workwear' to extreme lengths.  Denim skirt, with tights deemed by Simon to be "ridiculous", but what does he know, eh readers?

Top - charity shop, Skirt - Oasis, Tights - Primark, Shoes - Primark, Corsage - hair flower from Accessorize

That evening was our staff party, and I fancied curly hair, so I tried to do a Cheat One hot set, by setting-lotion-ing and then straightening each section of hair and then quickly rolling the warm hair up into a fat pincurl and leaving it to set for a couple of hours.  I put some curlers in to make myself a nice big fat rockabilly fringe, too.

I forgot that my hair is crap and will only take a curl from a full-on, dried-in-for-a-billion-years, don't-even-think-about-going-out-in-the-wind wet set, so what I actually ended up with was a sort of pageboy, which I actually really liked.  Well, I liked this view of it.  I'm not showing you the other side, where I had to resort to sculptural curls and a massive flower to hide the crap bits.

 

Face:  Posietint cheeks, Highbeam highlights, Cherries in the Snow lips and Eyelure lashes.

My frock is from Primark, and I promise my bra wasn't that visible all the time!  I didn't take a Boring Outfit snap because I had changed said outfit thirty times and then fannied on with my stupid fail fringe for a hundred years.  Nonetheless, I had a totally marvellous evening.  Here is a crappy phone photo.

As you can see, my fringe fell apart!

Recipe for an Ashabeth cocktail (devised by Ashleigh and Elizabeth at the Christmas staff party):

1. Decide upon ordering a pitcher of 'Jerry's Iced Tea' (gin, vodka, Sailor Jerry's, Cointreau, coke)

2. Think "Hmm, this looks a bit strong, maybe we'll ask to have it without the vodka."

3. When asked "Would you like extra gin to replace the vodka?", answer with a resounding yes.

4. Bottoms up!

Ashleigh and I suffered for our creativity the morning after we invented Ashabeths, and decided we weren't going to be so clever at this party, but obviously we did, AND we fell for the old "Do you want extra gin?" line again.  Strangely, this batch of Ashabeth didn't seem as potent, so we lived to tell the tale!

Anyway, back onto faces, after having peeled off the false eyelashes, wiped off several layers of foundation and roughly scrubbed off the Lipcote, on Saturday I didn't feel like wearing much make-up.  

As an experiment, because sometimes I forget what I look like beneath the paint, I decided to give myself a 'natural' look.  Concealer, Dandelion powder, Posietint lips, just a tidgy bit of eyeliner with no wings, mascara and (gasp) a very light hand with my eyebrow pencil, without exaggerating the arch or extending the line.

S'alright, I suppose.  I prefer my painted floozy face, though!

Monsoon season started on Saturday, so for my quick run to Morrisons to buy eggs and butter to make biscuits (no you can't have any, they're for teachers only), I wore this:

I look skinny!  Bosh!

Coat - Primark, Top - Oasis, Jeans - Peacocks, Wellies - Amazon, of all places, Beret - present from Matt and Ruth one time when they got fed up of me whingeing about losing my first white beret!

Back to typing, I suppose.  Can't beeeee bovvered!

Hairstory

This is a photograph of me looking cute on my fourth birthday.

Isn’t my hair nice?  It’s clean, shiny, silky, neat, classic and very cute.  This is because I was four and my mum was in charge of my hair.  Shortly after this I started refusing to have my fringe cut, because I liked peering sinisterly up at people from beneath it, and shortly after that I refused to have the length cut at all, and shortly after that I refused to brush my hair because it hurt hurt hurt, and Mummy Hamer and I would have lengthy, tearful arguments every morning, and Daddy Hamer would threaten to brush my hair with rusty nails hammered into a piece of wood, and still I would refuse.  I was eight then.  eight-year-olds aren’t very nice.  Soon I was a teenager and wore it in a ponytail, so as to blend as invisibly as possible into the crowd of ponytailed girls at my horrible school.

Then Facebook records began.  Throughout most of university I had long, thick, unlayered, side-partinged, natural-dark-brown, hair. Continuing the birthday theme, here I am at my 21^st.  

It was a bit dull, but sometimes I did awesome things with it.  Like this. 

Anyway, one day, *snip!*, I had my ponytail cut off and sent to a charity that makes wigs for children undergoing chemotherapy, and the remainder was a neat little brown bob again, like four-year-old me. 

The sad face was staged.  I can't remember the back story now!

After that the mop was in various stages of ‘bob in between hair trims’, and then I was a postgrad with no money for haircuts (or for food or fun, as I feel is evidenced by the desperation in my eyes) 

And then suddenly one day *ping!* it was ginger.  And by ‘ginger’, I mean ‘cheesy wotsit orange’. 

The ginger love prevailed for a few years.  One time I had a dodgy sideways fringe. 

 

One time I had a 23^rd birthday party, and had the best updo ever. 

One time I had maniacal 1940s curls. 

 

One time I had a coaster to match my head.

Then one day, *ping!* I had a choppy ginger bob. 

After that, (birthdays again, this is my 24^th) I had a round black flapper bob a la Brooksie 

Then it was brown and a different shape. 

Now, I’m bored.    

Drunk, but bored.

I would like hair like this lady next.

  

(That is the authoress of blog A Fine Day forSailing)

I’ve had hair like that once before. 

 

Actually, twice before.  

I'm late, I'm late, why am I always late?! Because you take pictures of yourself instead of getting ready, that's why.

Evening, world!

The weather has been friggin' GORGEOUS today.  I told you wearing dresses and flowers would make it summer!

Things I have done of note this week include making a stage appearance as a tapping flapper.

Hold on hun, we're gonna bunny hug...

Also buying new straighteners and curling my mop with them.

Is it me or are my eyes going green?!

More practice needed, I think.  I am actually pretty good at straightener ringlets on other people's hair, but mine is a smidge too short and too thick to get very good results.

In short, a little bit shitters, but my new toy is perfectly adequate for straightening.  Today was a good hair day.

Overheard in the staffroom:  "Bette's sporting her St Trinians look again!"

I've been trying to get out of the rut of wearing my clothes in exactly the same way each time, so set myself the challenge of styling this obviously sandals-and-sunglasses dress in a manner more suited to the chilly Spring winds of this morning.  I'm sure my ankle socks get plenty of sneers from the chavtastic troglodytes I pass as I skip around Newcastle, but I like the look!  My cardigan was a hand-me-down and is a little too big for me so I've never yet worn it, but by tying it at the waist and folding the top in to make a v-neck I made it into a far more flattering shape.  Genius!

Here I am throwing gangsta shapes to show off my new jewellery.  I took advantage of Miss Selfridge's bargainous sale prices the other day (and also spent my ebay earnings on something totally silly that probably won't suit me in the slightest and furthermore WASN'T in the sale, but I'll wait until it arrives and can be tried on before I show you!)  (If it looks horrendous and I decide to return in, I'll probably still photograph it for your amusement.)  Miss Selfridge is fast replacing Oasis in my affections.  Anyway, where was I?  Gangsta shapes:

I probably should have foreseen that wearing ridonkulously large earrings around small children was a mistake, as they didn't even make it until playtime.  Now one earring is hanging up on the staff notice board with a sad little note asking that its broken twin be returned to Miss On Toast if it turns up in a dusty corner! 

You can't even see my ring and bracelet, so here's an arty close-up, showing off my current obsession with paua shell:

So pretty!  The shell and earrings were brought back from New Zealand for me by the mother, my new ring's from Miss Selfridge, and I bought my bangle at a school fundraiser last week.

By this afternoon it had certainly turned into sandals-and-sunglasses weather.  My friends and I sat outside the cafe during our regular Friday lunchtime gossip-and-overpriced-sandwiches gathering, and after lunch Year One went into the garden and sang songs.  "When I was one I sucked my thumb the day I went to sea!  I jumped aboard a pirate ship and the captain said to meeee...!"  I bloody love my job.  Long may it continue (!)

The best song for days like this: