I hate the shock of a balloon popping.
It scares me half to death.
If you ever see me near balloons you'll notice my hands always chilling around my ears, poised to cover them in the terrible event of a beautiful hair filled colourful party decoration lose its life.
How sad.
I want a white fur now.
And big fake Chanel earrings.
I am a true believer in quantity over quality when it comes to fashion.
More is more.
More to wear.
More to give after the wear.
but, I do have a real Chanel quilted bag of my Mummy's..
Precious beyond compare.
Layers.
Layers.
Layers.
Can it please get colder.
I want to wear stockings and socks and boots.
Colour is the essence of life.
Last night Maximillian, Pav. Tyson and I attempted to go to Hot Damn, on Oxford St.
Here's a hint about Hot Damn.
Its kind of scene, indie, electro kids who HATE colour.
And as I was in a big white leather jacket, bright blue off-shoulder dress and red hair.
I stuck out like a sore-thumb.
Awkward much?
Need anything be said of the beauty of this dress.
Happy Friday
Xoxo
