It's officially winter in England, miserable weather at it's best.





Now is the time to wrap your feet with those sturdy (yet pretty) industrial boots, buy a pair of ostentatious gossip-girl-ish gloves and fasten an umbrella or raincoat to you everytime you leave the house. Because here in good ol' england, she (the weather) is one temperamental, permanently pms-ing boo-yotch.

Mr postman please bring me my December issue of Vogue so that I can lie in bed and console myself with pretty pictures and all the extravagance that fashion has to offer. thank you (:

THIS IS CATHARSIS.

and that's all I'm going to write.

Angeline Melin

who loves shoes?
who loves shoes?
I love shoes,
especially illustrations of shoes from blogs written in a totally foreign language!







Give me those hot pink dorothy-esque jewelled pumps from christian louboutin please. Then I can click my heels together and be magically teleported to block 85 where I can have a bowl of piping hot bar chor mee soup.

mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Everything can be linked to food i tell you, even over-priced designer shoes.

Peekaboo, guess who?
I guess no one does narcissism better than karl lagerfield.

I'm now a level 10 hunter with a beloved tiger for a pet. He's very loyal, a good fighter and is named assylzat, Kazakh for precious.

We're going to the cinema tonight! yay :)

there are moments when the portal to all wonders fails to sufficiently entertain. When that happens you pry your eyes from the screen and fingers off the keyboard, grab a book and allow your mind to be stimulated by pages and pages of words alone. And that's what I'm going to do right now. Sorry world wide web, but I'm going old school..plus you're starting to bore me.

ALSO. (what's a blog for anyway but for frivolous rambling) There's this craving for junk food (double-stuffed oreos, doritos with dip, chubby hubby ice cream, cheese balls...) that's just burning in my mind, throat and tummy. WHY WHY WHY. It wouldn't be such agony if the weather was warmer and the co-op nearer. Then at least maybe i'd be slightly more motivated to run out for them junk. But as of now, the bed's right there..the weather perfect for a late-afternoon-close-to-evening nap and my lovely book is laid out all nice and ready for me on my pillow.

So, (in the words of min)
ok bye.

A really old fashion spread. Who can resist the simpsons doing fashion. D'oh! (:

So some pictures of what is to be home for the next 2 years. Living on the top floor requires tedious runs up and down the many flights of stairs. You'll see in the photos my small room, the even SMALLER wardrobe and my obvious disdain for it. Ian's room is however about 2 and a half times bigger than mine, is cluttered with nothing but books, dvds and games and has a queen bed. At first we moved my wardrobe into his room, but it was too inconvenient having to move in and out between rooms. It's now sitting awkwardly on the landing just right outside my room.










Thank you mumsie for the knitted throw. It's saved me from many cold mornings.

What I would give now to be home.