tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978597417826806762024-03-05T16:16:32.787-05:00kitt the brittAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-45541408356283045212014-10-20T23:06:00.000-04:002014-10-20T23:06:03.467-04:00UPDATE: ILLUSTRATION!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hello all,<br />
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I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that I've been pretty inactive on Kitt The Britt over the last little while (boo hoo), but that's because I've been working on a rather exciting new project (yay yay)!<br />
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Approaching the end of my four year Bachelor degree, I'm turning my thoughts towards the future in the hope of answering the big "<i>what next?</i>" question. I have always known I want to do something very creative and I've reached the point of deciding that I want to try my hand at a career in illustration. I'm currently trying to establish an online presence as an illustrator, and the other week launched a blog solely for my illustrations and artwork. So, at the risk of sounding a bit cheeky, I invite you to go and check it out - if only to see my excuse for not posting on here for a while.<br />
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I'd love to hear what you think of my work at <a href="http://eleanorreeshowell.blogspot.com/">eleanorreeshowell.blogspot.com</a> :)<br />
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Love,<br />
<i>Kitt xx</i><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-43317406020873702452014-10-03T21:52:00.000-04:002014-10-03T21:52:12.574-04:00JOY + JOSIE: BEGINNINGS<div style="text-align: center;">
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<i>"Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."</i></div>
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So says Tom Hanks in the romantic classic <i>You've Got Mail, </i>that nostalgic ode to New York's Upper West Side starring Meg Ryan. I love that quote, and it would indeed be wonderful to send all of you dear readers a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils, just to bask in the school-supply-scented newness of this time of year. As soon as September hits, I get itchy to start new crisp notebooks and make sure my hand-writing is as neat as possible. Even into October, I'm still into the 'beginnings' mode, that feeling of starting fresh, and so I thought that for the first proper JOY + JOSIE post I'd have the two lovely ladies share what's new in their lives.</div>
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<b>xxxxxxxxxx</b></div>
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<b>// JOY //</b></h3>
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We all experience new beginnings: the first day back at school, or the start of a diet, or a change in hairstyle. I think change is good: it allows us to learn about different aspects of ourselves even if it is at first difficult to welcome. It's so easy to stay in our comfort zone, enjoying only what we are 'used' to. Staying the same, however, comes at a price: we might never discover THAT hidden talent, or THIS enjoyment of something - we simply float on stagnant water.<br />
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I've just recently finished four years studying Geography at University, including a placement year where I was able to dip into the working world to learn new skills and meet inspiring people. My husband Jonny and I decided a while ago that once I'd finished Uni we wanted to go travelling, to roam free a bit before we were tied down by mortgages and permanent jobs. We decided on South Africa, and we're currently spending two months here - I'm scribbling this entry while sat on the beach! We've had to work hard to get here though: scrimping and saving for a long time, even moving in with my parents. I've focused so much of my excitement and energy on this trip that suddenly I've found myself thinking: <i>what's next</i>?<br />
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I've recently been offered a permanent job with the company I had worked for during my Uni placement. I'll be starting soon - my first full-time, permanent position - and I can't wait. This change is a good change, but it of course comes with all of the new-job-nerves and I'm already wondering about all of the new things I'll have to learn.<br />
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Jonny and I started a <a href="http://www.verman.co.uk/" target="_blank">photography business</a> three years ago, and when you're self-employed in a business venture change is the only constant. We're always learning and experimenting and, most importantly, we're excited. We're looking ahead into the future, wondering what we could do and be someday.<br />
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So, what <i>is</i> next? In my experience, the unknown is daunting and scary and can come crashing in on a wave of despair. But I'm trying to see it as an adventure: I'm grabbing my metaphorical surfboard and I'm going to ride that wave. I'm stepping of stagnant water and I'm watching the shore, waiting.<br />
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<b>xxxxxxxxxx</b></div>
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<b>// JOSIE //</b></h3>
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October has arrived and - I can't quite believe I'm saying this - my baby girl is due <i>this month</i>. The last several months of my life have been full of firsts because when you're expecting your first baby, everything is new. Being pregnant is something I've dreamed about my whole life (I was the little girl who spent hours and hours dressing up and being 'Mummy' to a baby doll) and the actual reality of pregnancy has been both expected and completely <i>un</i>expected. It's been a surreal experience to be at this stage in my life, to be discussing baby names and choosing a buggy with my husband Simon - in less than a month, we're going to be <i>parents</i>.<br />
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Over the past six or so weeks, my mission has been simple: baby prep! My lovely grandmother (Nan-Nan) took it upon herself to hand wash some of the baby clothes I've bought - she told me that the washing of these little outfits was one of her favourite things to do in the build up to a new little person coming into the world. I handed over several tiny vests and a beautiful white dress given to me by my Auntie who lives in Canada. I cannot even get over how small all of these baby clothes are, let alone the fact that very soon they'll be filled with a fresh little girl. A week or so after giving Nan-Nan the pile, I returned home to find the clothes neatly folded in a pink bag, alongside a bottle of washing detergent and a little note that I will treasure forever.<br />
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Being an unorganised, messy, up-in-the-air kinda gal when it comes to bedrooms, I decided to start as I mean to go on when it came to the baby's room. The first step in this plan: draw dividers! I found a set of boxes that specifically fit the set of drawers and I've enjoyed filling all of the little sections with baby essentials. I say 'essentials', but I am becoming so unbelievably distracted by the cute and fluffy bits displayed so alluringly in shop windows. Truth is, I'm a shopaholic and having a baby has been a wonderful excuse. I've held back well though, surprisingly, and haven't gone too mad on baby items... if only I could say the same about maternity clothes!<br />
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I expect these last few weeks to go insanely quickly and to be full of more new things, all in the lead up to the biggest, newest beginning of them all.<br />
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 1980px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 1980px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-11523840560998845792014-09-19T20:12:00.000-04:002014-09-19T20:12:36.184-04:00THE CLARA EFFECT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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I'm a bit of a recent convert to the Whoniverse (that's British TV show Doctor Who to non-Whovians), but <i>oh</i> <i>boy</i> am I converted. The latest series has just started and I'm tuning in every week to see the latest Doctor (with his thick, angry eyebrows and Scottish snarl) and his companion Clara. Petite, doe-eyed and with a rather fierce fashion sense, Clara's got perhaps the glossiest hair and the most fabulous boot collection on the BBC. I'm hardly an edgy dresser (think ballet shoes and cardigans) but I've obviously watched one too many Doctor Who episodes recently because on Thursday I woke up and went all Clara-esque. Reaching into my wardrobe, I pulled out the most monochrome, androgynous, fierce outfit I could think of. Grey, white, black, leather, suede, studs - all topped off with a little gold bow necklace. Oh, and a cat. An outfit is never truly complete without a cat. Thanks for being so uncooperative, Charlie.<br />
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<i>Kitty xx</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-87334436736286000892014-09-16T19:25:00.001-04:002014-09-16T19:25:27.395-04:00A FRINGE AFFAIR<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A short and sweet post today (you can always tell I'm busy when a post only has one lonely photograph) because I've hit the ground running at Uni. Going into fourth year has been a similar experience to that Ice Bucket Challenge doing the rounds on the internet - I've been hit with a rush of readings and assignments and major projects all at once and have been left reeling, a little giddily, with shock. Now I'm into week two I can hopefully start to sort through the chaotic tangle of due dates and exams and settle in.<br />
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The Saturday before I went back to campus I booked myself a very impulsive hair appointment and, an hour later, exited the salon with a fringe. I'd been feeling very apathetic towards my limp, straggly locks and was inspired by the likes of French beauties Marion Cotillard and Louise Bourgoin to go for a more gamine look. I now look a bit like me circa 2007 - surely after seven years I'd look older?! I've been desperate to attempt an Audrey-style 60's beehive this past week, and have been looking at <a href="http://wishwishwish.net/2013/11/easy-60s-beehive-tutorial/" target="_blank">Carrie's tutorial</a> for tips. I even watched Breakfast at Tiffany's last night - I don't think I'll be able to resist the hive for much longer!<br />
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Oh, and cue the cheering: yesterday I passed my driving test! Driving has always been a real fear of mine and I've put off learning for years. I'd always believed I'd fail the test several times before passing and yet yesterday I somehow passed on my first try. The test itself was horrific: the examiner was awful and kept clapping her hands and snapping at me to pick up my speed, and so by about five minutes in I was absolutely convinced I'd failed. When, therefore, she turned to me at the end of the test and told me I'd passed, I literally could not believe it. I went on not believing it for at least two hours until about mid-afternoon when I hopped into the car for a little solo drive and it hit me - I passed! So that's a MAJOR life achievement for me - it still feels quite surreal.<br />
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Short post at an end, I'll banish myself back to my mountain of Uni work. *silently sobs*<br />
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<i>Kitty xx</i><br />
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-11688995892971203972014-09-08T19:01:00.001-04:002014-09-19T19:23:10.776-04:00WHAT'S IN MY (UNI) BAG?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A big warm round of applause for my trusty Cath Kidston satchel, please. I bought this wee beauty two years ago in the Cath Kidston shop in Cambridge, only able to justify the price tag because of a discount voucher. I had wanted one of these <a href="http://www.cathkidston.com/button-spot-saddle-bag/cross-body-bags/cath-kidston/fcp-product/1013624" target="_blank">satchels</a> for a while, and then when my sister purchased a floral one I knew I just had to get my mitts on one of my own. She's been my trusty bag for uni ever since: she's stuck with me on my daily bus journeys, treks across campus, and library camp-outs come sun, rain, wind or snow (and believe me, there's been a <i>lot</i> of snow). I have always loved getting my school bag ready, and as this is potentially my last year as a student (boo) I thought I'd do a special University edition of the 'What's in my Bag?' tag. This is a long'un, so fellow nosy bag-lovers - you're welcome!</div>
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Also, for any beauty lovers reading: my nail colour is Sally Hansen Complete Salon Manicure in 'Ruby Do'.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSwbid3_U9WDRhdDdAmzwGwhzAsQsUpF-L4MgJ_Ce-PThyphenhyphenWXrUrRN34WPZZnP8Ay7hLcF6lJ46dnxZ4IAPxKKAmXKZqKTOd0RxdcLJF1edfLQ1cp5uFoLTob26dKETuzOODzVcgy3wt3_w/s1600/DSC01439+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSwbid3_U9WDRhdDdAmzwGwhzAsQsUpF-L4MgJ_Ce-PThyphenhyphenWXrUrRN34WPZZnP8Ay7hLcF6lJ46dnxZ4IAPxKKAmXKZqKTOd0RxdcLJF1edfLQ1cp5uFoLTob26dKETuzOODzVcgy3wt3_w/s1600/DSC01439+(1).jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Umbrella //</b></div>
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It can be a burden to lug around, but a brolly never goes amiss when I'm spending all day on campus. Compact-able and polka-dotted are two very pleasant bonuses.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKp3xhxdzd03QhPqJ0Mp8YvBt-r2pOmhp6zjm7MMNrDCGx9PQu1Spsn1WqFNX7wEEFxoz5GCUp4nkUcNrMmR8LO0jhhKUvSJLK6zMBHfA2GDGV0bjv7D3gYCaI8FfKIQOgWTriH46XZ5YZ/s1600/DSC01452+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKp3xhxdzd03QhPqJ0Mp8YvBt-r2pOmhp6zjm7MMNrDCGx9PQu1Spsn1WqFNX7wEEFxoz5GCUp4nkUcNrMmR8LO0jhhKUvSJLK6zMBHfA2GDGV0bjv7D3gYCaI8FfKIQOgWTriH46XZ5YZ/s1600/DSC01452+(1).jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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// <b>Keys //</b></div>
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Featuring key rings such as a Cath Kidston fob, a Harry Potter chocolate frog (that really smells like chocolate!), and a London 2012 Olympics souvenir.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiUUMZY7yN_Wqk_5STchVy0k1olkfJcHNtiv_Z_Oh7jG9rQzT72ENBc2kwPCoT_tZiTNcWLxe8cjo6rclWBiqG2y5Sf7rnwSrdnOSUXey3XL-2OyXoBCHvWPrC8zaAUviI3cL-2BENtesJ/s1600/DSC01442+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiUUMZY7yN_Wqk_5STchVy0k1olkfJcHNtiv_Z_Oh7jG9rQzT72ENBc2kwPCoT_tZiTNcWLxe8cjo6rclWBiqG2y5Sf7rnwSrdnOSUXey3XL-2OyXoBCHvWPrC8zaAUviI3cL-2BENtesJ/s1600/DSC01442+(1).jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Phone //</b></div>
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Samsung Galaxy S4. Peonies for wallpaper - need I say more?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ8lruvkUbtH5L3WcVWYUKwuGRtqNrE6i8XlQnV411SS3hZEnIGnct1xEIs2Xse8uO_QpIn73hZzDz0GUOW0Cgkc8HulPEA1TCCB9lrc5niJMpBPXUSob7kzeXgalIrZp1atXtAjSR_im/s1600/DSC01441+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ8lruvkUbtH5L3WcVWYUKwuGRtqNrE6i8XlQnV411SS3hZEnIGnct1xEIs2Xse8uO_QpIn73hZzDz0GUOW0Cgkc8HulPEA1TCCB9lrc5niJMpBPXUSob7kzeXgalIrZp1atXtAjSR_im/s1600/DSC01441+(1).jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Lotion //</b></div>
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A must for my art student's hands/elbows. I'm not usually fussy about which lotion I have - so long as it works I'm happy - but I'm currently using The Body Shop Coconut Body Butter.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWy9aicqNz_P3seSAchn_a6N7mLsCXSRHd6qiICmGyGwBcxI62I82xf72fb1Tf-tP5J4ZJ-4qZ8tU3s0xWkZgByunUmH7sZRfGSzLekFUpJpqrPj0USmp7in28tp9ifN4gdVFVa-76vVv/s1600/DSC01464.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWy9aicqNz_P3seSAchn_a6N7mLsCXSRHd6qiICmGyGwBcxI62I82xf72fb1Tf-tP5J4ZJ-4qZ8tU3s0xWkZgByunUmH7sZRfGSzLekFUpJpqrPj0USmp7in28tp9ifN4gdVFVa-76vVv/s1600/DSC01464.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Laptop //</b></div>
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MacBook Air with a Greene + Gray memory foam case. For writing essays (read: browsing Pinterest) on the go.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_nJRuXlN0bd0UP7fEWZT4uCI46ZaEUUF24ZQGNchMrTFiUIB9VevcvwilyLxjU9h-G5W1dQAdNVcXs2BZUbb4qturvLcfyh6wweMoj3oH9qPiY3qEGjJ9BVdgDhRZxj0nky-l0CDnVwZW/s1600/DSC01460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_nJRuXlN0bd0UP7fEWZT4uCI46ZaEUUF24ZQGNchMrTFiUIB9VevcvwilyLxjU9h-G5W1dQAdNVcXs2BZUbb4qturvLcfyh6wweMoj3oH9qPiY3qEGjJ9BVdgDhRZxj0nky-l0CDnVwZW/s1600/DSC01460.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Gum //</b></div>
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When I'm eating tuna sandwiches for lunch and I've still got four hours of classes, projects and general social interaction left, gum is a must-have.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivL6wriV3fwWKX0PUuIB2FGDB2FBEanqQ3mUgHgcAGVxlsONf2feQw1UGIa7rgV7iMk6sZOZVl9QM_VX-Bd8zH6EIaGHoez0-A7rwGInciZlqESfkmYVoNx5lp9-9gfGDSAY0tcQ83gA1M/s1600/DSC01455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivL6wriV3fwWKX0PUuIB2FGDB2FBEanqQ3mUgHgcAGVxlsONf2feQw1UGIa7rgV7iMk6sZOZVl9QM_VX-Bd8zH6EIaGHoez0-A7rwGInciZlqESfkmYVoNx5lp9-9gfGDSAY0tcQ83gA1M/s1600/DSC01455.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Pencil Case //</b></div>
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UK stationary shop Paperchase has been my go-to place for gorgeous pencil cases since I started secondary school. I'm a firm believer in the need to surround yourself with beauty, and prints like this make doing so easy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_F90HwhQ1SjCUNILSUkLlBxII7Srb4wkdhiqeZnRU4viWq8hv_BknH1mV18kgPD_qCyl2MHlZRycpZlxhTng0mNUXa3sebRadR7EQcRu0tE6N_nRmSiUJnMV0eV2gKc5RCjJLANtfjZ5Q/s1600/DSC01451+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_F90HwhQ1SjCUNILSUkLlBxII7Srb4wkdhiqeZnRU4viWq8hv_BknH1mV18kgPD_qCyl2MHlZRycpZlxhTng0mNUXa3sebRadR7EQcRu0tE6N_nRmSiUJnMV0eV2gKc5RCjJLANtfjZ5Q/s1600/DSC01451+(1).jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Student Card //</b></div>
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I bought this bus pass cover at a Paperchase in Brighton two years ago and I think my reasons for purchasing are self-evident. I mean, just look at it! I use it for my student card which doubles as a bus pass, and fellow commuters compliment it on a regular basis. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHMPiHdYwfW1vEKJ3uWlMYwiusuDmAIiUFkxWXUCUi7KDSrV62cbmzQYH7bbg-n6XPqakLbbkmCkOEw5PJluiKRaula0OcUk6pjRpTip8NpaGh_5IFeSIPn5oINdkWW8185ytpRafbYrg/s1600/DSC01461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHMPiHdYwfW1vEKJ3uWlMYwiusuDmAIiUFkxWXUCUi7KDSrV62cbmzQYH7bbg-n6XPqakLbbkmCkOEw5PJluiKRaula0OcUk6pjRpTip8NpaGh_5IFeSIPn5oINdkWW8185ytpRafbYrg/s1600/DSC01461.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Notebooks //</b></div>
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I know that I could go to a supermarket and buy a cheap blank notebook but I just can't resist trying to find the most beautiful books for my class notes. This year I picked up this duo by Pastel at Indigo Books and I can't wait to get writing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgNb01CaRK676q6eV9nA1QozrUn6ffItnmSpA4rzwFGrpiHTfNViL022IsMksBi8lTHTYTgikUX569ZKx_Q6_KCs3lxUIsDSFGzS8uEBCo1xfT9RTPdoxbV3r1K4RT6X42pS6uotwIOql/s1600/DSC01449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEgNb01CaRK676q6eV9nA1QozrUn6ffItnmSpA4rzwFGrpiHTfNViL022IsMksBi8lTHTYTgikUX569ZKx_Q6_KCs3lxUIsDSFGzS8uEBCo1xfT9RTPdoxbV3r1K4RT6X42pS6uotwIOql/s1600/DSC01449.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// iPod //</b></div>
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Yes, my S4 has music on it and yes, this iPod Classic is old-school, but I take it with me whenever I can. It's actually my Dad's and the reason I'm always pinching it is because it's synced up to my Dad's friend's ultra-cool, ultra-diverse iTunes Library. Cue bus ride serenades courtesy of The Smiths, Dido, Gabrielle Aplin, Tom Odell etc etc etc. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatGjajWYZbuxN51QxDGKGw_WoSxXHp5_l5BlwTWTxPqXlLIuwpgNIhetzO-18zWVXd3qkFUCo4zw5Og9Ia6bisD7-ZNF8go3Zn8NEoKGl5h5lsDrjVSOBsh9GVLeTJ97xEz-spZNYub1K/s1600/DSC01450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatGjajWYZbuxN51QxDGKGw_WoSxXHp5_l5BlwTWTxPqXlLIuwpgNIhetzO-18zWVXd3qkFUCo4zw5Og9Ia6bisD7-ZNF8go3Zn8NEoKGl5h5lsDrjVSOBsh9GVLeTJ97xEz-spZNYub1K/s1600/DSC01450.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Micron Pens //</b></div>
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Whether I'm writing notes, doodling, or creating a full-on serious work of art, these pens are my faves. I especially love them in Sepia - plus, they're fairly inexpensive at my local art supplies shop.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFwL6DQXXEQisJ-WI64z_07gBRn_BpCcQnUTuTzfLEQMSVePzrM-0XME_OhOXz2BUmdDR7ZcW6QCor_upttHcM-Kdr4Q1tw7c5d65AJaL5Ng4KyB-eTukDgq2XVGVMLGDbZz769CZiCMU/s1600/DSC01454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFwL6DQXXEQisJ-WI64z_07gBRn_BpCcQnUTuTzfLEQMSVePzrM-0XME_OhOXz2BUmdDR7ZcW6QCor_upttHcM-Kdr4Q1tw7c5d65AJaL5Ng4KyB-eTukDgq2XVGVMLGDbZz769CZiCMU/s1600/DSC01454.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Coin Purse //</b></div>
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With all of the stuff I have crammed into my satchel I don't have room for my usual envelope style purse, so I use a coin purse for loose change and my debit card. This one by Forever England was a present from my Nan-nan.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0VvzaZdRyM-_K3AbpV_KWO8nrIgm4uDXb7oCYzIh01PNzXyRY4I9h8vVEfYLN-7TSwyhyphenhyphenL_ZyhXd6QDiIGFcZBhKREr2M6fku4Z8ggOZ6O9S-aNvNizOAz_AqhStmN2kXCYmcx3DD6BV/s1600/DSC01459+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0VvzaZdRyM-_K3AbpV_KWO8nrIgm4uDXb7oCYzIh01PNzXyRY4I9h8vVEfYLN-7TSwyhyphenhyphenL_ZyhXd6QDiIGFcZBhKREr2M6fku4Z8ggOZ6O9S-aNvNizOAz_AqhStmN2kXCYmcx3DD6BV/s1600/DSC01459+(1).jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Paper clips //</b></div>
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These flower-shaped paper clips by Paperchase have been used several times to secure essays in lieu of a stapler. I don't know if I've ever received extra marks on the grounds of extra-cute stationary, but I sure should have.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVB-Qt-rY40mOoFZiMFSG3em8Uct7iZPV8MT4sGgUNrakgWE7bl8UlLbCqL1KUyBJWuhiQa3errXiGSPsjMO9UwDPOfNJn_d7-gqoYntCDkQj7tBZpEO-mFfzS2NK_6-kVSkivoHucGGn/s1600/DSC01457+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVB-Qt-rY40mOoFZiMFSG3em8Uct7iZPV8MT4sGgUNrakgWE7bl8UlLbCqL1KUyBJWuhiQa3errXiGSPsjMO9UwDPOfNJn_d7-gqoYntCDkQj7tBZpEO-mFfzS2NK_6-kVSkivoHucGGn/s1600/DSC01457+(1).jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Sunglasses //</b></div>
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I've had my Ray-Ban Wayfarers for years and I will never get sick of them. Never ever ever.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQPHLBcuGjhqSfAnbgQEJO147wPENeMndSwY6pZPKZNR0AIK9tfRCmtpn041gkJwc7k9uCPPqj9-tCVqsFr-RKgMHCcmTM-XSif1rp74a0x80CQK65oZg4O0YD0yZjm41IM-am7361XfR/s1600/DSC01458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQPHLBcuGjhqSfAnbgQEJO147wPENeMndSwY6pZPKZNR0AIK9tfRCmtpn041gkJwc7k9uCPPqj9-tCVqsFr-RKgMHCcmTM-XSif1rp74a0x80CQK65oZg4O0YD0yZjm41IM-am7361XfR/s1600/DSC01458.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>// Lip Products // </b></div>
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If I ever empty my bag, I usually find half-forgotten lip products in every single pocket. My current loves are Clinique Almost Lipstick, Burts Bees Lip Balm, and Revlon Colorbust Matt Balm in Complex. </div>
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<i>Kitty xx</i></div>
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-8106447818611250222014-09-02T20:20:00.000-04:002014-09-02T20:20:21.525-04:00KITT || JOY || JOSIE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81G_36K71WPHi12k3zlX2mqVjd5lzhPrBKkQ9NRi3cuOi4QT2618ocQa_aDrOaxPjRUh0U07fJvqlZDYovhki0CSaUIdojX6gZFU-WPUUz0y0GUcICHRt50OeKJ54RJaOz1DAh2rA1Ju4/s1600/jo+hannah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81G_36K71WPHi12k3zlX2mqVjd5lzhPrBKkQ9NRi3cuOi4QT2618ocQa_aDrOaxPjRUh0U07fJvqlZDYovhki0CSaUIdojX6gZFU-WPUUz0y0GUcICHRt50OeKJ54RJaOz1DAh2rA1Ju4/s1600/jo+hannah.jpg" height="508" width="640" /></a></div>
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Hannah Joy // Jo Josie </div>
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In front of the towering spires of King's College there is a long, low wall dividing the striped lawn and the much-trod cobblestones of King's Parade. When lunch hour strikes in Cambridge, England, students and workers alike pour out on the streets with their salads and their sandwiches, all ready to jostle for a seat on the wall. It was during one such lunch hour a few months ago in May that I found myself sitting between two of my favourite women, my best friend and my closest cousin. I was visiting England for the first time in two years, and we were spending the day together shopping and chatting and drinking double-choc-chip Starbucks frappuccinos, having taken the Park-n-Ride into the city centre. The best friend Hannah had just graduated from Uni and was preparing for a two-month trip to South Africa with her husband. The closest cousin Jo was beginning to show her baby bump, getting ready with her husband to become first-time parents. We sat on that long, low wall between King's college and King's parade and as we sat we talked about our lives, past, present and future. We played that game, that 'who would have believed this is how our lives were turning out' game that involves lots of nostalgic reminiscing and imagining future children. And we decided that one day in the future we would go back to that wall together and eat lunch, and this next time perhaps another one of us would be pregnant and we'd be walking with baby buggies and little ones in tow.<br />
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There's just one year between the three of us, and yet somehow all of our lives are running very different courses. Different places, different stages...<br />
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And so, without any further ado, I present a blogging collaboration. The three of us are leading such different lives, and so here on the blog Hannah and Jo will give us snapshots of the details of their day-to-day experiences. Look out for some collaborative posts, occasional musings, and (in the very near future) a newborn baby girl!<br />
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Oh, and as I go by Kitty on the blog, it seemed only fitting that Hannah and Jo get pseudonyms too. Kitty is my middle name, so Hannah will appear as her middle name Joy, and Jo as her nickname Josie.<br />
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Watch this space for some KITT || JOY || JOSIE posts coming your way.<br />
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<i>Kitty xx</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-1894843355765765162014-08-25T15:36:00.000-04:002014-08-25T15:43:28.145-04:00BETTER THINGS ARE COMING<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabNnLikOJ2E8Mzong1_LBFP_MppCls_RDKCQtRW5ZzfkfaSxbIqYK-gdGESTYmJEiuTDuHwidlvxDh9XEtLl-DpzdnDySelElXA6nnfh9izbyEWEj6es5Kn7ZFj6h8UsEZ_l97WrQETSK/s1600/2014-08-25+03.02.56+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabNnLikOJ2E8Mzong1_LBFP_MppCls_RDKCQtRW5ZzfkfaSxbIqYK-gdGESTYmJEiuTDuHwidlvxDh9XEtLl-DpzdnDySelElXA6nnfh9izbyEWEj6es5Kn7ZFj6h8UsEZ_l97WrQETSK/s1600/2014-08-25+03.02.56+1.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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I've been rather down-in-the-dumps lately. Perhaps I should blame it on the colder than usual summer, or the fact that I miss the mental stimulation University brings, or even my recent lack of social life, but my mood seems to perpetually hover somewhere in the region of BLAH. Apathy has apparently become my middle name and the amount of time I'm spending in my pyjamas will attest to that. I'm learning in my life, however, that the little things have the biggest consequences. Trying to focus on the small purposeful good things I can do in my day really does make a difference to my overall mood, and so today I created a little happiness to-do list for myself:<br />
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<b>1 // </b>Clean my room (again)<br />
<b>2 // </b>Enjoy a sweet, sweet peach and a crispy apple<br />
<b>3 //</b> Paint my finger nails an eye-popping shade of lilac<br />
<b>4 //</b> Write an uplifting quote on my chalkboard<br />
<b>5 //</b> Browse <a href="http://www.boden.co.uk/" target="_blank">Boden</a>'s beautiful clothes (if ever a brand represented my personal style, this is it)<br />
<b>6 //</b> Play Duffy on the iPod dock and put those 60's vibes on loudspeaker<br />
<b>7 //</b> Text a friend to arrange a future hangout<br />
<b>8 //</b> Write more of my children's story<br />
<b>9 //</b> Have a slice of Mum's homemade Victoria Sponge cake<br />
<b>10 // </b>Take advantage of today's surprisingly hot weather and go for a swim<br />
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Small, simple things, and none of them particularly life-changing, but what I'm beginning to understand is that a big life change is made out of little moments.<br />
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So yes, while I am still in my pyjamas, I'm trusting that better things are coming.<br />
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<i>Kitty xx</i><br />
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 18px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-30883194704266662014-08-13T13:36:00.000-04:002014-08-13T13:36:26.980-04:00THE PERKS OF BEING TIDY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimdRp_Hr0Ssafgd36X4Le1mbWCqSkE-MT7ZP7wzLz3h0KbIPO5yD8by4Tw0ku6iqApRtayFvKJS2OH8zYoC1NL0QrjdsPozqwtBivFLEL2LCGcuoz64ZI0hmNG4rqCD0vdfz0AWnjIGLGr/s1600/roomedit2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimdRp_Hr0Ssafgd36X4Le1mbWCqSkE-MT7ZP7wzLz3h0KbIPO5yD8by4Tw0ku6iqApRtayFvKJS2OH8zYoC1NL0QrjdsPozqwtBivFLEL2LCGcuoz64ZI0hmNG4rqCD0vdfz0AWnjIGLGr/s1600/roomedit2.jpg" height="496" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9iklXsGHPdr9BY5qnKETLeQUtf2TN-hz8orc_gcmApUFTFeor-fCSZcBZaekQWiPzubmkMpZDTmT8O2nl-cddjIYlxbNjLLsA09HNyZUQA94K-_GChWQrMAYbYJgxYhNWYLOU3f2MA5iZ/s1600/roomedit3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9iklXsGHPdr9BY5qnKETLeQUtf2TN-hz8orc_gcmApUFTFeor-fCSZcBZaekQWiPzubmkMpZDTmT8O2nl-cddjIYlxbNjLLsA09HNyZUQA94K-_GChWQrMAYbYJgxYhNWYLOU3f2MA5iZ/s1600/roomedit3.jpg" height="428" width="640" /></a></div>
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// NOTE TO SELF // Yes, being disorganized and messy and cluttered is one of the side effects of having the disorganized, messy, cluttered creative mind. But no, leaving dirty clothes in a pile in the middle of your room will not make you feel better. Neither will an eternally unmade bed. And that mountainous heap of sketchbooks and handouts and bank statements on your desk? That won't go away just by wishing. There's a shoe organizer in your wardrobe: please use it instead of littering your shoes here there and everywhere. And while we're on the topic of wardrobes - why don't you just close the doors, instead of having to stare at the nuclear bomb explosion that is your collection of clothes? You might also want to put your makeup away after doing your face: it might mean not having to dig around for your foundation and your mascara and your blusher and every single item of makeup you need every single morning. You could also start using your wastepaper bin - just saying. And open your blinds during the day so that the place looks less like Gollum's cave. Consider tidying as you go instead of hanging around for the monthly deep clean. Yes, I know I tell you this every single time you have to have a mammoth de-clutter. Yes, I know that you set goals and decide that <i>this will be the</i> <i>last time it gets this bad</i>, but maybe you could consider actually following through with that vow? Just an idea. No pressure. You'll thank me for it, though. </div>
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<i>Kitty xx</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-16322800259328019132014-08-09T18:14:00.000-04:002014-08-09T18:14:02.844-04:00TAKE ME TO PARIS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosUPWNd8J1GvABcbz3FOXRf_p6OxigvyFnUGRLJrzz6V_f9_fXAPgpdttip053bO_qzpVygPtuf0zi5rvxAq9ZMdKy4XsTvwI-mSpZ7fdRZ13EepsIjT9NaCj-VslTe7-Lq1ErfhiEEDa/s1600/2014-08-09+05.07.33+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosUPWNd8J1GvABcbz3FOXRf_p6OxigvyFnUGRLJrzz6V_f9_fXAPgpdttip053bO_qzpVygPtuf0zi5rvxAq9ZMdKy4XsTvwI-mSpZ7fdRZ13EepsIjT9NaCj-VslTe7-Lq1ErfhiEEDa/s1600/2014-08-09+05.07.33+1.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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// top: Old Navy // Jeans: J Crew // sandals: New Look //</div>
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// sunglasses: Ray-Ban Wayfarers // watch: Fossil //</div>
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I'm not a t-shirt girl and I haven't been since I was 11 years old buying pink tees covered in cartoon chimps and featuring phrases such as 'just monkeying around'. As a general rule I'm not an overly casual dresser, but since I've already broken that rule this summer by bringing Birkenstocks into my wardrobe I thought I'd indulge my rebellious streak and buy myself a t-shirt.* Yet even I can't get <i>too </i>casual, and so when I saw a t-shirt featuring the word 'Paris' on the front I realised I'd found the perfect balance between casual and classy - doesn't Paris just class everything up?</div>
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Cue some slightly awkward outfit pics (will I ever get used to this whole posing thing?) outside in the hot August sunshine. I find closeups so much easier than full-body shots... am I the only one? You regular readers will notice that once again I'm wearing <i>those </i>tan sandals... they've been my ultimate Summer 2014 staple. </div>
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In other news, I've launched myself into a new story idea and have been doing a fair bit of writing this week. I always struggle knowing how to explain what I'm writing to people - "story" just sounds amateurish, but to say I'm writing a book makes me feel squeamishly precocious. I usually just stick to "I'm writing stuff..." and hope that I don't sound <i>too</i> pathetic. </div>
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<i>Kitty xx</i></div>
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*Yes, this is pretty much the most rebellious I ever get. <i>Oh, she bought a t-shirt! Quick, alert the riot police...</i></div>
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Readers, meet my sister Ruby. Yes, this doe-eyed wisp of loveliness really does exist and, yes, I'm lucky enough to be related her. I begged and begged this girl to let me take a few pictures of her this afternoon, and finally (albeit begrudgingly) she let me drag her to an old mill by our house and get snap-happy. I quite frankly could not get over how divine she looks in these photos (can you believe I took these on my phone?!) and I've been ooh-ing and ahh-ing all the way home.<br />
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Earlier this summer, Ruby went on a volunteer charity trip to Haiti and returned with gold-streaked hair and a camera full of photos. She's spent the subsequent weeks swimming, walking, getting sunburnt and tickling her kitten Charlie's stripy belly. From her freckled nose to her painted toenails, Ruby lives and breathes summer and I hope in this smattering of photographs I've managed to capture it.<br />
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Bring a little more zest to your summer by ensuring that you're following Ruby's five must do's:<br />
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1 // Eat your weight in watermelon.<br />
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2 // Ride a bike fast enough to feel the wind through your hair.<br />
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3 // Have a BBQ at least once a week.<br />
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4 // Become half-mermaid and live in the pool as much as possible.<br />
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5 // Plant and nurture a vegetable patch.<br />
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Happy August!<br />
<br />
<i>Kitty (& Ruby) xx</i><br />
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 3706px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 20px; left: 26px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 3706px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-74388759021338682242014-07-25T13:31:00.001-04:002014-07-25T15:29:06.271-04:00MY WEEK IN NUMBERS<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTK6ZyOz3USdN8QMnh32reVSX2L2hqBTVX6kC3RoItFFxfYI_i52ppTmxAsfWS0ke91PyBtKo9cfHvQr2uve5892ZpePqAcoTNVVE3jdXRf_Xe-3VstSnMbyLb1YOBg90p4rjr0jCyr_AO/s1600/2014-07-23+02.42.07+1+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTK6ZyOz3USdN8QMnh32reVSX2L2hqBTVX6kC3RoItFFxfYI_i52ppTmxAsfWS0ke91PyBtKo9cfHvQr2uve5892ZpePqAcoTNVVE3jdXRf_Xe-3VstSnMbyLb1YOBg90p4rjr0jCyr_AO/s1600/2014-07-23+02.42.07+1+copy.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">[please ignore my chipped nails]</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
FIVE // eggs in the ma-<i>hoo</i>-sive omelette I ate for dinner last night. Ru sweetly offered to make me one, but when she put this car-tire-sized beauty in front of me and I asked her how many eggs were in it she vaguely said "Oh, I lost track". It was only after I'd eaten most of this delicious but ginormous concoction and was lying on my stuffed tummy in a discomfort only over-eaters will understand that she confessed she'd cracked five eggs into that beast.*<br />
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TWO // times I've ignored the nagging thought that my room needed tidying. Maybe today I'll actually get around to it...<br />
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ONE // much-regretted dip in our cold swimming pool. The weather has cooled down a lot in the last two or so weeks and, alas, I've barely swam at all.<br />
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SIX // metallic straps on my new silver Birkenstocks. I never thought I'd need/want them, but then I started 'borrowing' Ru's on trips to the shops etc and my feet (usually crammed into flimsy ballet shoes or support-less sandals) thanked me big time. And since I'm now on my feet a lot at work and my Converse low-tops have been my new best friends, I thought that I'd cave in and buy me some of these bulky German shoes. I couldn't give up the glam completely, though - metallic silver adds a (hopefully) feminine twist.<br />
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ONE // sofa we heaved down into the basement earlier in the week for the set-up of the TV room.<br />
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FOUR // nights we have since spent in the aforementioned TV room.<br />
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THREE // books I've read this week that have all been set on the early 20th Century Amazon River. Two of these books are by a beloved author, Eva Ibbotson, and I had read them several times before so I knew that the plots centred around Manaus. The third, however, was chosen on a whim and so I was rather spooked that part of this book's story also revolved around someone going to the Amazon in 1910. Is this a sign? Is it my destiny to be an Amazonian explorer? Please no.<br />
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TWO // salon-sized bottles of posh Argan Oil shampoo purchased in the hope that my hair will miraculously start growing like Rapunzel's.**<br />
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ONE // compliment directed towards my floral PJ bottoms from a young guy going to door-to-door asking people to donate to UNHRC. He apparently owned a similar pair himself...<br />
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SIX // watermelon slices I've eaten while writing this post. Yay for summer fruits!<br />
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* Since I've published this post, Ruby's confessed to me that she actually put <i>six</i> eggs in there!<br />
** It won't.<br />
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 32px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 24px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/" style="background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 32px; line-height: 0; min-height: 20px; min-width: 40px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 24px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-77113848503561249502014-07-20T17:16:00.000-04:002014-07-20T17:16:34.082-04:00ART + HOME<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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News from this week: I was promoted (it may or may not have been a self promotion) to Interior Designer and Curator in the family home. The house has been a work of progress for a while now and in recent weeks it has been the living room's turn for attention. I've been nurturing a vision for this room and persuaded my parents to let me unleash my creative prowess: hello there, mint paint (same as in my bedroom), salon hanging and art prints. I spent a morning framing and arranging and hanging and then stepped back to get a feel for the result. I love salon-style hanging as it reminds me of my beloved art galleries and museums, and I composed it all in a way that would allow us to add more frames later.<br />
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As for the prints themselves - the majority were created by <i>moi. </i>Most are the result of a print-making class I took at uni a year or so ago and I've been waiting for an opportunity to do something with them. I've also been playing around with watercolours in the last two weeks, and the Auden quote is a product of one of those sessions.<br />
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Throw in several old glass bottles, some antique gold-leaf lettering, and a pair of Emma Bridgewater Royal birth commemorative mugs (Prince George turns one this week) and I think we've got ourselves a rather fetching ensemble.<br />
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<i>Kitty xx</i><br />
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P.S. The imbalance of text to image in this post is due to my current state of extreme tiredness - I went to see the Katy Perry Prismatic tour in Toronto on Friday night and I am still recovering. I'm compensating for my inability to string a decent sentence together by inserting a flurry of pretty pictures. You can thank me later.<br />
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<b>WHY</b> // am I doing this? </div>
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This is the question I will no doubt be asking myself frequently in the weeks to come as I try to implement a gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free diet.</div>
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<b>WHY</b> // <i>are</i> you doing this?</div>
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This is the question you might internally be asking me now as the terrifying concept of trying to exist without gluten, dairy and sugar sinks in. </div>
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<b>WHY</b> // am I blogging about it?</div>
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This is the question I am asking as I type, and that you might be asking as you read this post.</div>
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On Saturday evening I announced frustratedly to my mum that I felt bloated 70% of the time. This isn't the first time I've made this kind of angry statement: for as long as I can remember, I have struggled with IBS-like symptoms on a daily basis. There are certain foods that I won't eat if I'm with people, certain foods I won't eat if I want to feel pretty, certain foods I won't eat if I don't want to feel like a sickened, bloated zombie. Over the years, the list of these 'certain foods' has lengthened until I very rarely go a day without experiencing mild to moderate discomfort. I have watched enviously as my friends get up after a heavy pasta meal looking slim and comfortable while I heave myself off the chair, unable to suck in my now distended stomach. I have attended wedding receptions where I find myself looking at the bride tucking into dinner and knowing that I would not - could not - eat any of those things on my wedding day without swelling up like a balloon by 5pm. </div>
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And yet I have chosen to remain in denial for the longest time. I didn't want to keep a food diary or go through the elimination diet, like some suggested, because then I would be faced with the unavoidable truth that my very favourite foods were awful for my body. I loved bread, chocolate, pasta, butter, cakes, and sauces too much to purge them from my diet. I still love all of these things (<i>chocolate cake! hot cross buns! spaghetti carbonara!) </i>but they don't love me. And this unrequited love, this tragic tale of love lost, has led me to do the unthinkable. My mum's simple response to my outraged complaining was this: "Well, you know what you need to do." And, indeed, I do know what I need to do: give up gluten, dairy and sugar for an undetermined period of time.</div>
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So here I am, on Day 2 of a reluctant but necessary journey. I don't want to come across as <i>that </i>person. I'm not going to be making anyone feel guilty, I'm not going to be food-shaming, and I am going to try very hard not to go on about my new eating regime. Believe me, I am shocked at the fact I am actually going through with this - anyone who knows me knows that I have done my fair share of scoffing at things like quinoa. </div>
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I've already been experimenting a bit with Ru's new vegan recipe book - the <i>Oh She Glows Cookbook</i> by Angela Liddon - and made some gluten-free granola and a gorgeous dairy-free chocolate smoothie. Ru's been a fan of this kind of eating for a while now, and so I've already been depending on her knowledge when it comes to things like substitution. I've told myself that I will be positive about this, and that it <i>is </i>possible.</div>
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So why am I blogging about this? In a word: accountability. I want to prove to myself that I can do something as difficult as changing my diet, and posting about it is both a personal promise and a public pledge. </div>
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I'll be gluten-free, dairy-free and sugar-free. But hopefully I'll also be bloating-free. I'll be pain-free. I might, essentially, just be <i>free</i>.</div>
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<i>Kitty xx</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-67198925449745788742014-07-09T17:45:00.001-04:002014-07-09T17:45:31.428-04:00TORONTO ISLANDS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: start;">In the last eight weeks or so, I've been fortunate enough to be able to explore four of the world's iconic cities with four of the loveliest women: Cambridge with my cousin, London with my best friend, Paris with my aunt, and this past Saturday I went into Toronto with my sister. Compared with places like New York and London, Toronto has always seemed rather small to me. I've been in and around the city a fair bit in the time I've lived here but I've always felt that I was missing something. Toronto was nice, yes, but not <i>fabulous </i>- and surely a country's main cultural hub should be fabulous in some way or another? And so my attitude to Toronto has always been, quite simply, <i>meh</i>.</span></div>
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This past weekend, however, I had an attitude adjustment. Saturday morning came around and my younger sister Ru and I had an age-old conversation beginning with the words "What shall we do today?", a conversation that usually ends hours later at dinner time with the realisation that we've spent so long deferring a decision that the opportunity has gone. This time, remarkably, the conversation was a snappy one, leaving us plenty of time to actually <i>do </i>something. Ru mentioned that she'd always fancied having a look at the Toronto Islands. The city sits on the edge of Lake Ontario and there's a small cluster of land just off the shore, overlooked by the skyscrapers of downtown. I'd seen the islands from the top of the CN Tower (and was never intrigued by them) but Ru said that she'd heard they had a little amusement park bit in summer, and it might be interesting, and hey, what else are we going to do today anyway? So without further ado we hopped into the car and off we went, windows down and Sam Smith blaring from the speakers. </div>
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The first amendment to my attitude came on the way into the city. We were a little overconfident with our sense of direction and promptly overshot our exit from the highway, meaning that we took the long way round going into Toronto and found ourselves driving through a part of the city I'd never seen. There were little restaurants and delicatessens and lots of leafy avenues with houses that I can only describe as Toronto-ish (google 'Toronto Houses' and you'll know what I mean). It was all rather lovely, and then when we parked on the corner of Queen and Simcoe I found myself happily in what I assume is the bohemian artsy part of the city. There was a certain vibe there, and I liked it.</div>
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45 minutes and a crowded walk to the lake shore later, Ru and I got on the ferry amongst a jostling gaggle of students, couples and young families carrying picnic baskets and even disposable BBQ trays. The holiday atmosphere intensified once we reached Ward's Island; this was obviously where city-dwellers come as a retreat, and why not? There are beaches, rivers, bridges, parks, bikes, quadricycles, row boats, dragon boats, canoes, fairground rides, food shacks - we even passed an outdoors wedding ceremony! We rented bikes and wound our way around the whole landmass. I kept thinking of those old illustrations you see from the 1890's, depicting ladies with wide-brimmed hats and parasols and gentlemen in straw hats and striped blazers as they row under bridges or picnic or ride the merry-go-round. I can just imagine the late 19th century Torontonians doing all of these things on the Islands: city bankers taking their young fiancés away from the brick and the heat of the city to have a day out by the water. I think that the Islands are to Toronto what Brighton is to London, or what Central Park is to New York.</div>
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I didn't just like this slice of Toronto, I loved it. It was amazing to be cycling down a forested path and to suddenly see the downtown Toronto skyline through a gap in the trees. You had that distinctly urban feeling that you were a part of something, yet you were so obviously removed from concrete and car fumes. The Toronto Islands are, in a word, <i>fabulous.</i></div>
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<i>Kitty xx</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-52740003837273216912014-07-06T10:31:00.000-04:002014-07-06T10:31:00.183-04:00MY WEEK IN NUMBERS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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ONE // job offer this week! The interview outfit in my previous post must have worked its charm because two days later I was offered the job and my student bank account is breathing a sigh of relief.<br />
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THREE // (at least) dips in our swimming pool. It's just been fixed and I've spent hours and hours in my swimwear in the last two weeks or so.<br />
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TWO // the number of nights in a row I watched Disney's <i>Enchanted</i>. One of my all-time fave Disney films: I love the songs and Amy Adams is <i>brilliant</i>.<br />
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FOUR // ripe mangos bought at the farmer's market. I've always had this funny little quirk of loving loving loving mango-flavoured things but not actually liking the taste of mango on its own. And then these four farmer's market mangos came into my life and nothing has been the same since. Slight exaggeration, perhaps, but I will now eat mangos on their own - huzzah!<br />
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TEN // glossy toes painted with O.P.I. <i>A Good Man-darin is Hard to Find</i> after a trip to the nail salon with my little sister Ruby (thank you, Mum!)<br />
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ONE // evening spent roasting marshmallows and sausages around a bonfire.<br />
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THIRTY-EIGHT // degrees centigrade, according to my phone's weather app last Saturday at the farmer's market.<br />
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SIX // mosquito bites. The less said about those, the better.<br />
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TWO // lovely treats made by <i>moi</i> in the kitchen. I come from a family of baking-enthusiasts (seriously, we're known for it) and I am now very used to the looks of disappointment on people's faces when I own up to the fact that I'm the odd duck of the family who doesn't enjoy being in the kitchen. In the last month or so, however, I've found myself trying out quite a few recipes - this week it was a no-butter no-sugar apple pie (<i>meh</i>) and a berry cheesecake (<i>yum</i>).<br />
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ONE HUNDRED // plus freckles that have cropped up on my face and arms during this week alone. My skin is looking suspiciously like summer, and I like it.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-90058330052905605512014-07-03T12:14:00.000-04:002014-07-03T12:14:40.770-04:00THOUGHTS ON CLOTHES<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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// dress: GAP // shoes: Franco Sarto // watch: Fossil //</div>
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// lips: Sonia Kashuk Velvety Matte Lip Crayon in Poppy Nude //</div>
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A couple of lovely friends suggested that I post more about what I'm wearing, not because it needs to be pose-y and vogue-y, but because they know me and know that I find pleasure in clothes. Outfit posts are a bit of a grey area, however, as they could easily slide into that uncomfortable category labelled 'self-indulgence'. It is indeed a rather self-indulgent thing to ask someone to take photographs of you as you twirl and tilt to demonstrate your (hopefully) most flattering angles, and then to later edit and crop and select images of you to post in succession on the internet. It could all get very self-congratulatory very fast and that's why I hesitate to make outfit posts. Yet, on the other hand, I love clothes. Sometimes I worry about saying that so frankly because such a statement is usually followed by thoughts like <i>shallow </i>and <i>materialistic, </i>but I do - I enjoy pulling together outfits. I love colours and silhouettes and patterns and shapes and fabrics and - most of all - I love how wearing lovely clothes makes me feel. I don't think this makes me a materialistic person, I think that this just means that I enjoy beautiful things. I have an artist's mind and so visual aesthetics are important to me. That's just the way it is, and enjoying clothes is just part of who I am, and this blog is just a way for me to express myself, so I am going to tell myself that it's okay to make outfit posts. It's <i>okay</i>.<br />
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So, after that rambling spurt of self-psychoanalysis, I will allow myself to post about my outfits but:<br />
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I'll try not to take myself too seriously (let's put a limit on pouting, mmm?)<br />
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I'll use them as opportunities to share creativity, not as 'look at me I'm so fabulous' fashion spreads<br />
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I'll to be honest (minimum photoshopping, and no pretending I don't have bad hair days)<br />
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I'll try 100% to be me<br />
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I won't apologise or feel guilty about making outfit posts. They can be a reflection of me just like posts about art work or days out are. I <i>will</i> be passing my camera to someone and I <i>will </i>be asking them to snap what I'm wearing and I <i>will</i> be trying to arrange my limbs in a way that is camera-friendly and I<i> will</i> be doing all of this because I do rather enjoy clothes.<br />
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What I choose to wear is just another part of who I am - and that's <i>okay</i>.<br />
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<i>Kitty xx</i><br />
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P.S. This particular outfit is what I put on during a swelteringly hot day for a job interview. I sweated most of my makeup off and my hair grew a halo of frizz, but <i>boy oh boy </i>was this ensemble comfortable. Thank goodness for shift dresses and bare legs.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-37258118488053678152014-06-30T09:00:00.000-04:002014-07-01T23:55:13.063-04:00SKINCARE / BEAUTY ESSENTIALS: CAMPING / FESTIVAL<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Around this time each year a large amount of blog posts crop up about styling yourself for Glastonbury and Coachella, and how to get the the ultra-cool, ultra-fashionable summer music festival vibe. I've read my fair share of these posts like any other female, but the only festival I've actually been to is Hard Rock Calling back in 2009 when I was 16 and was stung by a wasp and sprayed with beer - hardly the hipster/glam experience the internet promises. If we, however, descend a few rungs below festivals on the 'Ladder of Cool', we might find ourselves camping. Yes, camping, the word that sends we shower-and-hairdryer-lovers running for the nearest hotel. Yet it is a fact that while I'm unlikely to don a pair of Hunter wellies and head to Glastonbury any time soon, there's a much higher chance that I (and I suspect you) will be roughing it in a tent this summer. But, as a girl who spent a year trying (and failing) to be a tomboy when she was nine years old and has since cemented herself solidly in the realm of all things feminine, I'm not really a fan of 'roughing it'. And so, for girly-girls everywhere, here's a list of skincare and beauty products to help you rough it without <i>really</i> roughing it:</div>
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<b>1 // Olay Complete All Day Moisturizer for Sensitive Skin.</b> When camping I''m typically makeup free, but that doesn't mean that I allow my skincare routine to dwindle. Camping usually means being outdoors almost 24/7, so our skin should be protected and re-hydrated regularly. Using Olay is somewhat of a rite of passage in my family - my mum gave my sister and I bottles as a 'grown up present' years ago, just as my grandmother had given my mum a bottle when she was a teenager - and this particular moisturizer has SPF 15, a much-needed extra for we ladies with English complexions.<br />
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<b>2 // Olay Complete Night Fortifying Moisture Cream. </b>Again, moisture is good. Don't forget to slap on some night cream before burrowing down in that sleeping bag.<br />
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<b>3 // Baby Wipes</b>. Yes, the old staple. No make up doesn't mean we should give up cleansing, and we all know that the uses for baby wipes are endless. Wiping dirty knees? <i>Check</i>. Mopping up the ketchup that's dribbled onto your foot? <i>Check</i>. Cleaning underarms and other regions because there's no shower and this is the only way to feel somewhat human? Not enjoyable, but <i>check</i>.<br />
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<b>4 // Sun Cream.</b> An absolute must have. It shouldn't matter if you're off camping to the Scottish highlands and won't see the sun for a week because of the freezing, driving rain - don't forget the suncream! I'm pretty rubbish at science and always have been, but I know enough to understand that we don't have to see the sun and feel the sun's heat for our skin to be damaged. I like using the sun cream designed for babies because my skin is extra sensitive, and the kid's stuff usually smells rather lush too.<br />
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<b>5 // OFF! Deep Woods Insect Repellent. </b>Camping in Canada is a wonderful thing. There are lakes, forests, chipmunks ... and mosquitoes. The Canadian mozzies love me and I swell up like a balloon when bitten, so I literally hose myself down with insect repellent whenever I go into wooded areas. They like moist, grassy places and their numbers explode come night time, so if you're going camping this year - wherever you are - grab some insect spray.<br />
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<b>6 // Homeoplasmine.</b> This is some rather fabulous French pharmacy stuff that I picked up in Paris after hearing rave reviews. Beauty bloggers recommend it for pre-lipstick-prep, but it's great for patches of dry skin and is also an antiseptic. You might not be planning on trying the latest lipstick trends in your tent, but a product like Homeoplasmine is always useful. You can order it online if you live outside of mainland Europe and you're prepared to pay a high price, but Vaseline would do a similar job.<br />
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<b>7 // Burt's Bees Replenishing Lip Balm with Pomegranate Oil. </b>Once again: moisture! We protect our skin with sun cream, but how many of us are guilty of neglecting our lips? I love Burt's Bees products, and this particular balm is tinted and works as a lovely stain for low-key days.<br />
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<b>8 // Benefit Posietint Stain. </b>This isn't a must-have for roughing it, but if the whole 'no-makeup' thing feels like too much of a hardship then I like to use a lips and cheek stain to give my face some colour. I've had this Benefit Posietint for ages - hence the scruffy bottle - and it applies almost like a nail varnish. Put a drop on your lips and on each of your cheeks, rub each drop in with your ring finger, and you get a very subtle, summery result. A nice way to feel pretty when walking around in crumpled clothes and dirty hair.<br />
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<b>9 // Batiste Dry Shampoo. </b>Speaking of dirty hair, who wants it? Anyone? I didn't think so. I have very thin, fine hair that quickly gets greasy and I swear by dry shampoo. It's pretty much one of my daily staples as it adds body and a feeling of freshness to my hair. I don't travel anywhere without it - especially camping trips.<br />
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<b>10 // KMS California Hair Play Dry Wax.</b> A really good solution to the no styling rule that often comes with camping, this dry wax adds a bit of instant texture and movement to natural hair.<br />
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<b>11 // Charlotte Ronson A Perfect Mess Beach Hair. </b>Surf spray is another great hair option when you're roughing it. Spray onto damp hair for an off-duty-model look.<br />
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<b>12 // Nail Varnish (Sally Hansen Insta-Dri in 'Jade Jump' & Sally Hansen Complete Salon Manicure in 'Commander in Chic'). </b>Nail varnish is just a feel good beauty product. I can look like I was dragged through a bush backwards (and when camping that might actually happen, you never know) but if my toes are a nice colour I feel just about okay. These two colours are my faves this summer - I love a minty green on my toes with a subtle neutral on my fingers.<br />
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<b>13 // Hair Grips. </b>These don't need any introduction (I hope). Camping + females = copious amounts of hair plaiting/braiding. Throw some hair grips in your bag so you can finally try out all those summer hairstyle ideas you've been gathering on Pinterest.<br />
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<b>14 // Hair Ties. </b>Or 'bunchies', as my sister and I used to call them. Stash these with the hair grips - you can never have too many.<br />
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<b>15 // Ukulele (or Guitar/Recorder/Harmonica/ Triangle/Singing Voice). </b>The beauty product for the soul. I can't think of a less cheesy way to phrase that, but you know what I mean. Camping is for bonding and unwinding, and I can't think of a better way to do that than music round the campfire. Or, at the very least, you can wind everyone up by singing "one man went to mow" and "ten green bottles" in the car on the way back.<br />
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Happy Camping!<br />
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<i>Kitty xx</i><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-73873946672348120572014-06-26T14:38:00.001-04:002014-06-26T14:38:48.933-04:00THE AUTHENTIC STARVING ARTIST<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYdG1_xrDp9aEzwmk6-lcvEiG4txlLDLMKEzHVVTIl4njyDjPaZJmvS5wcIKRLDsv28DvZaYNsIh5k3osJoh_xxQ9OJn-q1Nc2eCRtRack-Ay0IdDy0AOKMoJfWM9e0lXqwq650CKuITt_/s1600/Tony+commission+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYdG1_xrDp9aEzwmk6-lcvEiG4txlLDLMKEzHVVTIl4njyDjPaZJmvS5wcIKRLDsv28DvZaYNsIh5k3osJoh_xxQ9OJn-q1Nc2eCRtRack-Ay0IdDy0AOKMoJfWM9e0lXqwq650CKuITt_/s1600/Tony+commission+2014.jpg" height="516" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJt3ozXkqqMkKwZHdAIJ0fEtFdc6Byn6fR5Q0ltHv7U7yInmObDWMxIUbfwdqGMW3Eozf-D6TdXfzpdmrXecsDLgnKRhBaYfm58V_IRlXEEaqB8LjqU9TJjvuo-s7P6z6v_W6YYNqj_XQO/s1600/2014-06-25+04.38.29+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJt3ozXkqqMkKwZHdAIJ0fEtFdc6Byn6fR5Q0ltHv7U7yInmObDWMxIUbfwdqGMW3Eozf-D6TdXfzpdmrXecsDLgnKRhBaYfm58V_IRlXEEaqB8LjqU9TJjvuo-s7P6z6v_W6YYNqj_XQO/s1600/2014-06-25+04.38.29+1.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXKDQrPtmuPF_yq-f0xtr8-qPYyqiRCZ19myokwFKOPj4JmIcXECUcAxX1-S2e6IlRV7fQ6NEae4EeVR6fhudlM0WORY5rrou8nPdqjfx1vgDe_P5XZYi25f4dTqJkHPbVPE7hyphenhyphenW33vUX/s1600/2014-06-25+04.38.35+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXKDQrPtmuPF_yq-f0xtr8-qPYyqiRCZ19myokwFKOPj4JmIcXECUcAxX1-S2e6IlRV7fQ6NEae4EeVR6fhudlM0WORY5rrou8nPdqjfx1vgDe_P5XZYi25f4dTqJkHPbVPE7hyphenhyphenW33vUX/s1600/2014-06-25+04.38.35+1.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCT2J9fYSWy9jLsOlhiyPvfMELlLm8sjzJdiZmGWk1wTYm3OIOBhr3GCDfRJZ-AYGruDlUW0OKC63INQt6BrGWo8ARmgajG9jZqqQrOjo0lADXLucXPa49RUiGtFyGneH78I-zgV_NU0G/s1600/2014-06-25+04.37.53+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCT2J9fYSWy9jLsOlhiyPvfMELlLm8sjzJdiZmGWk1wTYm3OIOBhr3GCDfRJZ-AYGruDlUW0OKC63INQt6BrGWo8ARmgajG9jZqqQrOjo0lADXLucXPa49RUiGtFyGneH78I-zgV_NU0G/s1600/2014-06-25+04.37.53+2.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
Even though I'm a Fine Arts student I've only ever taken on a couple of commissions. There are a few reasons for this: I struggle with the creative issue of equating my art with monetary value; I find it very difficult to be <i>told</i> what and how to create (some people don't have the ability to execute their own vision and expect artists to be their hands); it's hard to motivate myself to do something that isn't perhaps my taste in subject matter; the pressure to please can be quite intense... All quite 'authentic starving artist' thoughts I know.<br />
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My parents, <i>au contraire,</i> are <i>not</i> of the 'authentic starving artist' mindset and encourage me to take on commissions when I'm asked. This particular commission has been in the works for months due to uni, travel etc and the other day I finally finished everything apart from adding my signature (I can't do that until the paint dries). This is an oil portrait of two young children and the first time I've done a painting of this sort. I was also working from one 4x6 photograph of the children so I felt like I was guessing so much of the tone/lighting etc. When I do work on a commission, I try to see it as a chance to learn and perfect techniques - I've only actually been painting for three years so I still feel like such<i> </i>a novice!<br />
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The style of this painting is perhaps a little more traditional than my personal work but such is the nature of commissions. One of my current artist loves is <a href="http://www.kaisamuelsdavis.com/" target="_blank">Kai Samuels-Davis</a> and although his paint-handling is so much choppier than mine, his work has intensified my recent obsession with flat grey spaces.<br />
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I'm a real perfectionist and sometimes I have to tell myself to walk away. There are always bits that no matter what I do I can't get right, bits that I end up having to live with. I've worked into the girl's face, for example, over and over and over again but it's still not <i>quite </i>right. The boy's face, on the other hand took only two sittings to do and I'm happy with it! Art can be fickle.<br />
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Well, I apologize if all of the above is a bit of an incoherent ramble for you non-artist readers, but I feel that this blog wouldn't really represent me without the occasional prattle about art.<br />
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The 'authentic starving artist', <i>Kitty xx</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-26940835871094923462014-06-24T14:51:00.001-04:002014-06-25T17:07:13.774-04:00CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW'S SHIRT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPxFNsu91FJoHrS1aGKgio_RcEpUozziINtm2zfic7hysTD9nFd8jaROxOHXiIgMx-UV5PBegTV85KNhJgIrnGBKYF14mTwEM8Fl9I-A0WNeP5wd02S5ftiGDZEcUCyZKBDeePqvUQA9S/s1600/DSC01233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPxFNsu91FJoHrS1aGKgio_RcEpUozziINtm2zfic7hysTD9nFd8jaROxOHXiIgMx-UV5PBegTV85KNhJgIrnGBKYF14mTwEM8Fl9I-A0WNeP5wd02S5ftiGDZEcUCyZKBDeePqvUQA9S/s1600/DSC01233.jpg" height="556" width="640" /></a></div>
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// blouse: H&M // shorts: Joe Fresh // bag: Topshop // necklace: American Eagle // sandals: New Look //</div>
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I wasn't going to buy <i>anything</i> <i>at all</i> when I browsed around the shops one Saturday a few weeks ago, <i>not one thing</i>. Then this blouse happened. It was $7 on the sale rack in H&M. <i>$7.</i> Yes it was four sizes too big for me, but it was <i>$7</i>. And it was <i>white</i>. And it was <i>summery. </i>And <i>$7. </i>I was at the tills before I knew it and when I opened my purse instead of noticing the soul-crushing lack of money all I saw was <i>$7</i>, and when I approved my purchase on the debit machine all I saw was <i>white - summery - $7. </i></div>
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The blouse made its debut today and as I examined myself in the mirror this morning I realised just how big it is on me. Due to its billowy nature I was fairly limited on the bottoms side of things and so paired it with these navy chino shorts (another purchase made on that Saturday I left my self-discipline at home). It was all a bit boho, so I thought I'd go all the way and bring out the feathers and the tassels. I like the shirt but I do feel a bit like Captain Jack Sparrow. It's the looseness that does it - put on a hat and a waistcoat and I'm ready for a sword fight. But <i>$7.</i></div>
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I wasn't actually going out anywhere today - just pottering and ticking off to-do lists at home - but I find that getting dressed up increases my productivity. I'm a bit all or nothing: I tend to dress up to the max when I step into the world but as soon as I get back through the front door I'm straight into my pj's. On days I'm not leaving the house I don't even bother to shower - atrocious, I know. Am I the only one who does this? Anyway, this blouse is comfy enough to pass as a pyjama top. And it's white. And summery. And <i>$7</i>.</div>
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<i>Kitty xx</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-23545310645091020832014-06-21T09:00:00.000-04:002014-06-25T17:07:03.060-04:00NOTTING HILL<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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// dress: Banana Republic // bag: Fossil // sandals: New Look // </div>
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// lipstick: Revlon Matt Balm in Complex //</div>
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I've only been to Notting Hill - the pastel-coloured district in London frequented by Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts - once before, one Saturday in the middle of my GCSE's. I went with a friend and her mum to Portobello Road Market and the streets were thronging with people out to buy knick-knacks and flowers, or to dig a bit deeper for some statement antique jewellery. If I tell you that a Notting Hill Oxfam charity shop was selling designer dresses for <span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">£</span>500, I think that create a rather accurate idea of what this corner of London is like.</div>
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I finally went back a few weeks ago with a different friend, the lovely Hannah from <a href="http://verman.co.uk/" target="_blank">Verman Photography</a>. I was back in England for the month of May and asked Hannah to pop into London with me to visit some much-missed art galleries and museums. We finished up early and so for the rest of the afternoon decided to head over to Notting Hill as Hannah had never been I fancied going back. It was midweek and not a market day (does anyone else have to sing that song from the old Disney film <i>Bedknobs and Broomsticks</i> when I say Portobello Road?), but the quiet streets gave us the chance to have a wee amble amongst the sweetie coloured terraces. </div>
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We shared a late lunch at <a href="http://gailsbread.co.uk/bakeries/notting-hill/" target="_blank">Gail's Artisan Bakery</a> - including a fantastic-looking dark chocolate cookie that we shamelessly forgot to photograph - and then we just wandered up and down streets, peeking surreptitiously through victorian bay windows and speculating on the price of flats (<span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 18px;">£</span>1 million at least, according to Rightmove UK). We even thought we spied a genuine Banksy graffiti piece thrown in amongst all the colour - really, is there a more picturesque place in London?</div>
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<i>Kitty xx</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-41616270865417402202014-06-19T16:33:00.000-04:002014-06-19T23:02:50.990-04:00TAKE TWO<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well.</div>
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I find myself beginning round two of Kitt the Britt with a ding ding of the bell and a new blog design.</div>
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I started blogging in early 2013 as a bit of an outlet for my style / beauty / creative needs amidst the pressures of uni life. I happily added to the blog for several months until I hit a bit of a stumbling block in the form of a summer internship, a job which meant living on the other side of the country and working long, busy hours as a member of a festival production team . The fact that I had no one to act as my willing photographer, combined with the reality that my daily styling consisted of steel-cap boots and old baggy t-shirts, meant that the blog quickly trailed off due to a pitiful lack of material. By the end of the summer, I had spent too much time away from the blog and allowed self-doubt to creep in -- <span style="background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Is anyone even reading what I post</span><span style="background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: initial initial; border: 0px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">? Isn't blogging a very narcissistic thing? Isn't this all a bit... cringey? </span>-- and I decided to bring Kitt the Britt to a close.</div>
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So what's changed my mind? I'm not entirely sure, but I think it comes down to this: I love reading blogs. I have a decent-sized list of lifestyle, beauty and fashion bloggers who I regularly check up on. Need style ideas? I look on blogs. Want beauty product recommendations? I look on blogs. Fancy a "beautiful pictures" fix? Blogs. I'm very active in the blogging world, but only as eyes -- isn't my voice valid too? Narcissism, vanity, bragging -- these are the words that have been lingering scratchily at the back of my mind whenever I've thought about starting to blog again. But as I spend so much time listening to the voices of other bloggers, surely it's alright to add my own to the throng?</div>
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Yes, being narcissistic is still a worry, but it's not inevitable. I can share my thoughts and my passions without being boastful. I can have opinions without being ashamed.</div>
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I'm blogging again, and that's okay, because we're all allowed to have a voice.</div>
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<i>Kitty xx</i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-91369769268228104082013-06-25T14:18:00.001-04:002014-06-25T17:01:33.369-04:00CARROUSEL<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Every time I hear the word 'carousel', the words to my favourite Joni Mitchell song come floating to the surface of my mind...<br />
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<i>And the seasons, they go round and round</i><br />
<i>And the painted ponies go up and down.</i><br />
<i>We're captive on the carousel of time.</i><br />
<i>We can't return, we can only look</i><br />
<i>Behind from where we came</i><br />
<i>And go round and round and round</i><br />
<i>In the circle game.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Quoting these lyrics makes this post suddenly seem rather deep and philosophical, but there's been good reason for the song to be going 'round and round and round' in my head for the last week or so. Every day as a Production Assistant at The Works International Art Festival in Edmonton, Alberta, I've been passing <i>Carrousel</i>, the creation of a Montreal-based trio of artists known as BGL. Made of shopping trolleys and crowd barriers, <i>Carrousel</i> is a fully-functioning carousel available for the public to ride for free. After days of watching it being set up and then having to walk around it, curiosity finally got the better of me and I found myself lining up with a gaggle of excited children to try <i>Carrousel</i> for myself.<br />
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The ride on <i>Carrousel</i>, however simple the concept might seem, was rather magical in its own way. <i>Carrousel</i> touches upon one of the things I engage with most as both an art lover and as an artist: taking the everyday or the mundane and transforming it into something beautiful.<br />
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I think that there really is loveliness to be found in everything, even in a shopping trolley spinning round in circles.<br />
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<i>Kitty x</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two of the artists from the BGL trio admire their work</td></tr>
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<i><br /></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-56485385009657503322013-05-27T00:19:00.001-04:002014-06-25T17:01:54.488-04:00STOP TAKING PICTURES AND LIVE IN THE MOMENT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In my very limited experience, having a blog makes one suddenly very conscious of one's plans and appearance: "Oooh, off somewhere picturesque, will make a good blog post, must take camera, best make sure hair and makeup and outfit are perfect, no pictures from that angle please, oh that's unattractive, delete, yes a pose like this thank you very much, and now a close up, let's make everything look as beautiful as possible, fingers crossed it doesn't look too staged..." </div>
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I mean, blog posts aren't completely natural. I like beautiful things and that's nothing to apologize for, but sometimes I allow my blog posts to escalate from something fairly natural and loose to something altogether wannabe <i>Vogue-</i>ish. And there's nothing wrong with that - like I said, I like beautiful things - but my life isn't a walking-talking <i>Vogue</i> photoshoot <strike>unfortunately</strike>. It's too easy for me to get jammed into the mindset that any blog post of mine has to be <i>simply sublime</i>. It's tempting to want you to glance at my blog and see me looking perfectly put together and <i>tres chic</i> at absolutely all times. Those fancy-shmancy blog posts are lovely to make, but my life isn't always glamorous or anything like unto it. Sometimes there needs to be a blog post to remind myself of that, a blog post full of spontaneity and average-looking outfits, because that's<i> reality</i>. </div>
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This evening I was slobbing in the basement eating toast and watching a film. I heard my roommate Kristi yell down that it was sunny and raining at the same time and that I absolutely had to go outside. Up and out I went, and immediately the artist alarm went off in my mind and like a maniac I dashed back inside thinking "CAMERACAMERACAMERA". What was also running through my mind was this: "This-would-make-a-gorgeous-blog-post-I-need-to-get-changed-and-put-on-more-makeup-I-hope-my-hair's-not-too-much-of-a-wreck-but-oh-no-what-if-I-miss-the-light-quick-hurry-ahhhh". And then, as I was faffing about in the kitchen, I heard Kristi calling again: "Stop taking pictures and live in the moment!"</div>
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<i><b>Stop taking pictures and live in the moment.</b></i></div>
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I came to a sudden, screeching halt. Did it really matter that I was wearing minimal makeup? Did it really matter that I was in ill-fitting leggings and a pair of trainers? To put it frankly - no, it didn't. Of course the artist in me couldn't do the whole <i>stop-taking-pictures </i>thing, but I decided that tonight I would be brave and<i> </i>do the <i>stop-taking-pictures-that-you-feel-you-have-to-look-perfect-in</i> thing. And so I grabbed the camera, tied my laces, and went to join my roommates Kristi and Jane in the rain. And we had fun. The photos are awkward and embarrassing and a little bit bizarre. I don't look my best and am definitely not 100% photogenic. It's all a bit messy and unplanned, but so is life.</div>
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And that's okay.</div>
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Love, Kitty x</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-72986352124628810722013-05-15T00:53:00.002-04:002014-06-25T17:02:11.517-04:00THE GANDALF GUIDE TO LIVING ON ONE'S OWN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A couple of days ago I sent an appeal for help to my Life-Long-Lovely Helen. Having been living on my own as an independent 'woman' for a short while, I'm starting to think about things I never had to consider before. Food, for example. The right ingredients apparently do not appear magically in your cupboard. And groceries are expensive! Who knew?! In a moment of independence-jitters, I sent a panicky Facebook message to Helen asking her to be my Gandalf and guide me in the ways of living alone. She's been living away from her family studying Nursing at Sheffield University for three quarters of a year now, and being so similar to her in lots of ways I know that she would have experienced some of the initial feelings I am. Perfectly punctual as ever, Helen sent me such a wonderful reply that<i> </i>made me smile from ear to ear when I read it on the bus this morning. She has some brilliant advice for anyone dealing with change or newness or just general feelings of being overwhelmed in life, and so without further ado - Internet, I give you:<br />
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<i><b>The Gandalf Guide to Living on One's Own</b> </i><i>Ok so you're now meant to be a really grown up person, loving living on your own, independent and free spirited and all that jazz but really... let's just think about this and be honest... errr I'm not and I don't think you are either lovely eh? We are little children in grown up bodies! But here I have devised a list to help you with this beautiful yet utterly terrifying stage of life. I hope you enjoy it!</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i><b>1.</b> When living on your own make sure your bubble (ie. where youre living, sleeping etc) is your cave where you can go and CHILLAX which means chill and relax. My room at Uni is just full of photos (your face is there woman ;)) and cards. I have a rug, radio, fairy lights, hanging-down-thingys.. its like home so I go there and feel at peace and forget my troubles.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i><b>2.</b> EAT WELL. Mum says I care more about food than my uni course haha which is kinda true hee hee <span class="emoticon emoticon_smile" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yH/r/ZJnGbZOGdGW.png); background-position: 0px -869px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":)"></span> I always say when my tummy is happy I am happy and when you've got nice food to eat and nibble at then it feels nice. Ooooh and what is very important are sweeties!! I always make sure I have something naughty in my cupboard.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i><b>3</b>. Go out, conquer and EXPLORE... I am a very different person than I was. I am a lot more at peace with my self and have a lot more confidence in my self and what I believe in. I am not afraid of expressing my opinion now and will not just sit in the shadows <span class="emoticon emoticon_smile" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yH/r/ZJnGbZOGdGW.png); background-position: 0px -869px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":)"></span>. I put myself forward for everything because i don't want regrets. So, my beaut, get out there! Join lots of clubs make loads of friends, dance till the cows come home and grab life by the ears!!!</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i><b>4.</b> Dont think about home too much. I know what it's like and it's horrible and homesickness is quite unbearable. I cried every time I left home and the people on my train got very used to the blubbering wreck which was me haha. I have spoken to mum on the phone everyday since I started<span class="emoticon emoticon_grin" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yH/r/ZJnGbZOGdGW.png); background-position: -17px -648px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":D"></span> You get used to it and now I get excited to get back to Uni so it does get better my love!!</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i><b>5. </b>SMILE BABY!! I know you already do but you're so like me it's actually weird and i know that it's not always fun. I've had some really horrible times and have hated being here but then I ring the Mother or Father, eat a whole tub of ice cream, drink some tea, watch Hott Fuzz and tell myself that either they're not worth it or I have to get over it! Show everyone your pearly whites Miss Howell and walk with a spring in your step!!</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i><b>6.</b> And FINALLY.... If you want that dress or those shoes or that chocolate bar- do it <span class="emoticon emoticon_grin" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yH/r/ZJnGbZOGdGW.png); background-position: -17px -648px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":D"></span> Life's too short.. I've treated myself to a few cheeky dresses <span class="emoticon emoticon_wink" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yH/r/ZJnGbZOGdGW.png); background-position: -17px -784px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=";)"></span> Working on placement I got the opportunity to work with cancer patients and their optimism on life was just amazing and has stuck with me <span class="emoticon emoticon_smile" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yH/r/ZJnGbZOGdGW.png); background-position: 0px -869px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":)"></span> You're so worth it and have worked extremely hard for this!!</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>I hope my few pointys were alright hee hee! I really enjoyed writing them </i><i>XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX</i></div>
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Love, Gandalf Helen xxx</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14049007920740788664noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-897859741782680676.post-60261088109694961992013-04-30T07:51:00.000-04:002014-06-25T17:02:34.842-04:00KITT SERVES TEA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In time gone by, when the semester was still young and finals felt like a lifetime away, when hope was high and life worth living, I dreamed a dream that I would host a thoroughly British Tea Party to celebrate the end of my second year of University. I dreamed that my energy wouldn't die, that my profs would be forgiving. Then I was young and unafraid and blog posts were made and study time wasted.<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica; font-size: x-small;"> </span>But the finals came at last with their ridiculously-long-essay-questions soft as thunder, and they (almost) tore my hope apart and (almost) turned my dream of a thoroughly British Tea Part to shame. </div>
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I am happy to announce that my exams and last minute assignments did NOT kill the dream I dreamed: at the end of a rather busy semester I summoned to strength to channel my inner hostess-with-the-mostest, pull out the fine china and sashay in the kitchen to the crooning voices of Perry Como and Doris Day. There was a 1950's English Tea Party to host, and this little lady - tired as she might be - was up to the challenge.</div>
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When I first had the idea of putting together this little shindig a couple of ago, I had very modest plans. A teapot, a few teacups, a cake, friends. Maybe a table cloth for the occasion, you know? And then Uni got to me. You see, I cope with stress by looking forward to things. Whether it be a new book, a trip to the cinema, or a day out, I like to have a little silver-lining to focus on or an incentive to encourage me when I am feeling worn down. Well, this past semester was pretty darn good at wearing me down. It was my least favourite term so far, I had some classes I was not enjoying, I was having to prepare for the intensity that is third year Fine Art classes - I was altogether lacking in the motivation department. So, when life sends you Shakespeare essays and Psychology exams and mammoth Printing projects, plan a Tea Party. Seriously. Sat in a three-hour night-time Psychology lecture with a rear that's growing increasingly numb? Mentally construct a menu full of the best British sweet treats. Revising in your bedroom for a looming Literature exam? Look up from those notes and imagine the perfect vintage display of your retro bits and bobs. By the time the day of the Tea Party arrived, I had planned a monster of an event that took my family and I a whole day to set up for. </div>
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I invited a small group of my Fine Arts friends from Uni with the request that they get their vintage glad rags on and bring their own teacups. I Union-Jacked the dining area up as much as I could and dug up old photographs of my Grandparents in the 1950's to stick on the walls. I gathered together all of the old British tins and memorabilia I could find and arranged them on the piano in a sort of shrine to the Motherland. My lovely family united to do all of the baking (I am afraid my only contribution was the cupcakes and they were a tad overdone). I found a fifties playlist on YouTube and pressed play, whipped out the red lipstick (hello again, Marilyn!) and with some housewife pearls round my neck, I was ready to go!</div>
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At the end of the day, I just enjoyed being with my friends. I feel very blessed to have come to know these lovely ladies this year at Uni. From stressing over deadlines with them to walking through the streets of Manhattan together, these girls have made my University experience so much better. Onwards and upwards into third year, ladies! Hurrah!</div>
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<i><u>~ Menu ~</u></i></div>
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<i>Victoria Sponge Cake</i></div>
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<i>English Trifle</i></div>
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<i>Scottish Shortbread</i></div>
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<i>English Scones with Whipped Cream and Strawberry Jam</i></div>
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<i>Lemon Drizzle Cake</i></div>
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<i>Chocolate Cupcakes and Fairy Cakes</i></div>
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<i>Smoked Salmon and Cream Cheese Sandwiches </i></div>
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<i>Cucumber Sandwiches</i></div>
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<i>Fresh Strawberries</i></div>
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<i>A selection of British Teas for the tea-drinkers and Caf-Lib for moi</i></div>
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<i>Fizzy Pink Lemonade</i></div>
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<i>Good Friends</i></div>
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<i>Joyous and Long-Awaited Relief from Schoolwork</i></div>
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Dream the Dream. Host a Tea Party.</div>
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<i>Kitty x</i></div>
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<i>(Thank you to Breanna for some of the photographs!)</i></div>
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