Again being disgustingly non-committal about outfit posts, but fuck it, this isn’t primarily a fashion blog. Plus, been waiting to get paid, and had four months rent due so the top half of me (sadly scraped back hair and oversized, black men’s shirt) is a penniless wreck, plus this is after a full day’s work, so take it or leave it.
The bag, I bought in Topshop in Dublin almost exactly one year ago today when I went there for Electric Picnic (which I’m sadly skipping this weekend in favour of Singapore next month). The laced-up wedges are so old and battered I don’t remember where they’re from, fuckin’ troopers, those guys are. The leather-panelled leggings scream H&M so they probably are…
Bleurgh. Fail.
…
3 THINGS IN THAT BAG RIGHT NOW, HOW ‘BOUT WE DO THAT.
*menthol cigarettes I can no longer stand to smoke
*a ziplock bag of stolen Herbal Slimming teabags
*dictaphone, always
(Brunch with) Bach & Bukowski 