Whenever I say that in my head it sounds so sinister and Freddie Kruger-esque(?) I scare myself. So I've been away, to France as per usual, and now that I am back I fully intend to post lots of things I've been thinking about whilst by the pool doing my best Ray Winstone. Lisa Love (of Hills acclaim) once famously said "France changes you" - well really she said Paris but who's splitting hairs it's pretty much the same thing - and I've been contemplating if this is, in fact, true. As far as I can tell, apart from gaining 10 litres of red, 500g of Golden Virginia, some nude leather espadrilles, a gold St Christopher and a chunky silver necklace akin to Carrie's when she meets Big on the boat in season 3; all I've got to notice about myself are some rapidly fading freckles and an overindulged palette.
A certain "post-vacance" whimsicality bordering on the morose could be present as is expected when one travels from 32 degrees and enough vitamin D to make your own supplements, to the rather non existent dregs of British "summertime". Distance obviously encourages personal evaluations, and reality can somewhat bite when re-confronted after a jolly absence.
Cor, talking about bringing down the mood. On a lighter, more hopeful note, I've lots of things to put up so stay tuuuned as they say.
"LOUNGE LIZARD" BAHAHA
FROG OR TOAD? EITHER WAY AMAZING
MY VERSION OF CARRIE'S NECK GARB
CARRIE IN SAID NECKLACE OBVIOUSLY