tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92172337992415452352024-02-02T11:34:07.202+02:00Fabric Of The HeartAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.comBlogger664125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-36123858792265354842014-12-08T09:06:00.001+02:002014-12-08T09:06:42.940+02:00Waiting For Emails & Other Types of Hell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Vi8UKZSxR3z4j9IcKRJd4BN4GNJxSHezJsaqV29nNTyccqRjN9b8aYcgnmwTr6yNWpSpW2eFujjy2t-T3IlSuLc1_0bz6Meo1zh5BCpRtbNR342bfj1b413XekpKifwg4pkf_RLSGX3Y/s1600/raspberry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Vi8UKZSxR3z4j9IcKRJd4BN4GNJxSHezJsaqV29nNTyccqRjN9b8aYcgnmwTr6yNWpSpW2eFujjy2t-T3IlSuLc1_0bz6Meo1zh5BCpRtbNR342bfj1b413XekpKifwg4pkf_RLSGX3Y/s1600/raspberry.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I watch the refresh-wheel-thingy spin on my phone, it says "Updated Just Now" but that was two minutes ago, TWO whole minutes... Ugh, I hate liars. When I read that last sentence I hear Tyga's verse on Deuces: <i>I hate liars, fuck love I'm tired of tryin'</i>. I feel you, dog, I feel you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The thing is, if you freelance or actually do absolutely anything that requires other people's approval or more importantly authorization to get paid, then waiting for emails is a thing. Not always a bad thing, I mean, Zadie Smith once replied to an email, but a thing nonetheless. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />But as the year enters its victory lap the only inbox that I will concern myself with is my mouth as I eat my way through Cape Town. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">P.S. PLEASE PAY ME YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE KTHANKSBYE. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-58914613734935224282014-11-24T13:05:00.000+02:002014-11-24T15:53:49.240+02:00Three Things That I Love Right Now! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0vzUbDqHeaFIe6cqkjO2AJUGLjAdPsfWcH1C_TqmDd1M6yc9Uhkzuuae_6kQAhcRp4UexVpZeWKctCM-YJA8yLjWj8RUBBQGvQ7pAIsVb5WYAigiKepoT5Yl0Z8zgHJEBn9ogGupAQ9u/s1600/Rebecca+Maria.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0vzUbDqHeaFIe6cqkjO2AJUGLjAdPsfWcH1C_TqmDd1M6yc9Uhkzuuae_6kQAhcRp4UexVpZeWKctCM-YJA8yLjWj8RUBBQGvQ7pAIsVb5WYAigiKepoT5Yl0Z8zgHJEBn9ogGupAQ9u/s1600/Rebecca+Maria.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. This art from <a href="http://rxmcri.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIOX5M-kFjpphuaa9_fMc14KTwQF0JaQsaj2jt47E0Lvg6d26jPiywLBTOdkZiv5_dtaDqL1ZtbO0ghTbQ3vHomx7HVcGr0Rrtpww0AvTWuTwmIZC9xmoQohCzktRNHV-93bGJJXtEAw7B/s1600/snidelsneakers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIOX5M-kFjpphuaa9_fMc14KTwQF0JaQsaj2jt47E0Lvg6d26jPiywLBTOdkZiv5_dtaDqL1ZtbO0ghTbQ3vHomx7HVcGr0Rrtpww0AvTWuTwmIZC9xmoQohCzktRNHV-93bGJJXtEAw7B/s1600/snidelsneakers.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. These Snidel sneakers that I cannot find anywhere on the Internet. I spotted them on the Tokyo Fashion IG page and since then I have fruitlessly Googled numerous combinations of the words "sneakers" "Snidel" and "South Africa". </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgjKzWjpxbluDC779f2JHhR-0htIsWnkJcEm_5trZM6z-H616KcGfr13JxgY4Ke6WvClMMoJkGnd84dO87mLwdIw6NaFXupc2La0yKGsSU04knzdEYWUxbbiEF0Y2vgU0UM0Fz0_lpvDE/s1600/image1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgjKzWjpxbluDC779f2JHhR-0htIsWnkJcEm_5trZM6z-H616KcGfr13JxgY4Ke6WvClMMoJkGnd84dO87mLwdIw6NaFXupc2La0yKGsSU04knzdEYWUxbbiEF0Y2vgU0UM0Fz0_lpvDE/s1600/image1.PNG" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. It is only a matter of acceleration now. The way that <a href="http://chimurengachronic.co.za/binyavanga-youssou/" target="_blank">this</a> article is written. </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-28786445525932538062014-11-17T20:51:00.000+02:002014-11-17T20:51:16.005+02:00Here's A Story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGY8LoOoNbdXjxw4z1xl_nUs6GFLUAQXIq_9up3Ewd-sWeDFvtqZNsxOh2IWXt6Pws_Q2LK3WC4VFcW-DRJP6BoBa8sGtKDIefmeNAWeTpNGu7p7T-OtpYucTHJvuP6XFGXkOkWK3u5WC/s1600/DSC04529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGY8LoOoNbdXjxw4z1xl_nUs6GFLUAQXIq_9up3Ewd-sWeDFvtqZNsxOh2IWXt6Pws_Q2LK3WC4VFcW-DRJP6BoBa8sGtKDIefmeNAWeTpNGu7p7T-OtpYucTHJvuP6XFGXkOkWK3u5WC/s1600/DSC04529.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A portrait of a freshly-baked 26 year-old. 16th November 2014. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is the worst day: the day <i>after</i> my birthday. Like Boxing Day but worse because there are no leftovers. So in keeping with the melancholic mood, here is some of my personal anguish in letter form...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So here's the thing: I started writing this story about two years ago. I thought that there was a real, proper novel somewhere in my brain waiting to be shoveled out. Now I am not so sure. I think most of it (this is just a slice) is pretty shoddy, this part I kinda like, but again, I am not so sure. I think that I should abandon it and start something else but then I lose five years of my life on Instagram and next thing I know it is bedtime. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here it goes:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John outstretched his arms and took both of her shoulders
into his embrace. He held her with an earnestness not commonly found in young boys or even men who had not seen their mother’s weep. Thoko and John had
known each other’s faces since they had known their very own. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Growing up with
their houses kissing, it was only a matter of time until they kissed and
never stopped. The first one was the best one. John and Thoko had been racing
each other; they danced through the urban obstacles, the faceless women selling
fried food, the stray dogs yelping at a yet to be announced death, the small and
hungry children clutching the knees of passers-by. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They ran until they laughed soundlessly, their thumping
hearts pleading their legs to stop and so they did, right under the old wizened
tree with roots escaping from the cracked soil. Panting in harmony, they smiled
at each other as if they both knew a joke that no one else had heard or ever
would. John touched Thoko’s cheek with his full palm unembarrassed by the
obvious show of affection. Thoko did not flinch and she tried not to blink. She
thought to herself that this is what it felt like: happiness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He moved his hot and glowing face right into hers, nose-to-nose
his eyes never left hers. Years later when she was all kinds of lonely, Thoko
would greedily recall how moments before her first kiss John did not say I’m
going to <i>kiss</i> you now, instead he
said something far more heavy, he said I’m going to <i>love</i> you now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She had always thought that what she needed was lightness. She
had believed that the death of her mother and the paper-cut disappointments of
the world had made her heavy and tear-sodden. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John made her see that what she wanted, what she actually
needed, was to be bound to this world. She had been floating just above the
ground for so long. Lightly tethered, John’s words made it important that she
remain here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Someone loved her and that was her responsibility to bear. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-49686269060819308412014-11-11T19:33:00.002+02:002014-11-11T19:33:42.558+02:00Long Time No See! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj13wD12DWdFoYung-sGpY3qb8PdaQ3oo0FU8S2UjAW0j38uD5skI1OD9sRo6oUAM2ZgJ4UpmvjdXBJkMxUX9DNZl0N2qn-R1VN1qDl-E2KEj-bs7dytShr-JMSq9APFVTQ0nBxvWj_rDrT/s1600/DSC03505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj13wD12DWdFoYung-sGpY3qb8PdaQ3oo0FU8S2UjAW0j38uD5skI1OD9sRo6oUAM2ZgJ4UpmvjdXBJkMxUX9DNZl0N2qn-R1VN1qDl-E2KEj-bs7dytShr-JMSq9APFVTQ0nBxvWj_rDrT/s1600/DSC03505.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Jeez, I don't even go here anymore... </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's put it down to an end-of-year slump and be thick as thieves all over again, kay?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This photo is from around about this time last year. Tommy took me on a mini-break for my birthday (I probably, definitely blogged about it), and for a weekend and a bit the world was just as it should be. A universe of two. The best part was eating breakfast together in "our kitchen". I felt like a child playing a hyper-real version of adult-adult. Things like that weekend away kinda eat me up inside (in a good way). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Nostalgia is one helluva drug. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The reason being, growing up I never imagined being 20-something. Actually I didn't really imagine being any-something. I was too knotted to my everyday concerns, I didn't honestly see the bigger picture. Also, I feel like I'm between 12-16 years old on most days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you read this blog, you probably already know I'm very feels-y. In other words, I feel things, fucking too much I'd say. So doing things like a weekend away is pretty wild to me. Like, how amazing? <i>I have a real boyfriend who does nice things?! Say what?! </i>Insert an existential crisis, giggling and heady dose of impostor syndrome and you've got my average thought pattern. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A peephole into my mind:</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh-my-fuuuck + I'm so happy/nervous/excited/scared/pissed</span> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and/or terrified + laughing at my own useless jokes + how old am I again? + I should totally just get a dvd and take up daytime drinking</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not being able to imagine myself at this stage has meant that my adult life has really been one big surprise after another. It is like a poorly planned surprise party everyday. Sometimes fun, sometimes exciting, sometimes the-worst-thing-ever. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Things I have learnt thus far (an incomplete list):</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Haters don't hate everything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They (I mean, me) just know that pretty much everything sucks majorly. BUT! The things in life that don't suck at all are so great, so delicious and beautiful that it makes up for the nonsense. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiAfAcQ2A_6Fp60DApyB6SFWmgGeWnnhFGJvGs8zW8GfujoEMa0XG7lRpBGeQuKgYjA78u1HMgEopkt3NnvioB1olF4aP2Gp5UX7baLDMK8cqp66puTlZr1eAnzapXpg22hCNociwwxoRu/s1600/IMG_1909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiAfAcQ2A_6Fp60DApyB6SFWmgGeWnnhFGJvGs8zW8GfujoEMa0XG7lRpBGeQuKgYjA78u1HMgEopkt3NnvioB1olF4aP2Gp5UX7baLDMK8cqp66puTlZr1eAnzapXpg22hCNociwwxoRu/s1600/IMG_1909.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Things that don't suck: love, sushi and most fish-based meals, driving fast on the highway at night specifically on a Friday, getting better, friends of mind, doing work that blurs the line between playing and working, cold sheets in summer, making the world as small as just you and the page you're on in the book you're reading. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />2. I can just do stuff.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I was in school I used to think that life was a bit like a video game. My personal favourite was Crash Bandicoot. So, you had to break boxes, munch apples and climb levels to get what you want. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fast-forward to today and I still kinda believe that for <i>certain</i> things but there's also this whole bunch of other things that don't require a regimented approach. Like life in general, for one. You can just do things, like, just nje. No permission required.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. Literally no one cares about the things that you want more than you do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And that's how it should be. Act accordingly. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSvOSwfmsSKxqybmXkYGWAhJcGz4XnmSjQQ9JzLrk2KhleIGXtMKmLogTFTxIeE56L-OSSZ85VPJN2IV_wUZZevYGbVIM8Cm2S0WPPswKzZM1l0LuvoLM2Ip4KQeWks8DYQKB2UD4fzk7Q/s1600/196+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSvOSwfmsSKxqybmXkYGWAhJcGz4XnmSjQQ9JzLrk2KhleIGXtMKmLogTFTxIeE56L-OSSZ85VPJN2IV_wUZZevYGbVIM8Cm2S0WPPswKzZM1l0LuvoLM2Ip4KQeWks8DYQKB2UD4fzk7Q/s1600/196+(3).JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But hell, this is all just a roundabout way of saying that it's my birthday on Sunday!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gift ideas for my generous internet friends:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Pug</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. Money</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. Mochachos vouchers</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've got a good feeling about this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My future family portrait:</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTINjGh8WkDXE0IniInrmxjjv8rwRcng22sloPtQn7MW5CB3flAEa8KV-QPRjfDVz7dDk4EoL6RvRumcdUtpmWcUVAZTdtWj1R25LeYjkLtOSQSgzJUVzlkNel7-A-OBX3O3Eha2X13smN/s1600/pug+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTINjGh8WkDXE0IniInrmxjjv8rwRcng22sloPtQn7MW5CB3flAEa8KV-QPRjfDVz7dDk4EoL6RvRumcdUtpmWcUVAZTdtWj1R25LeYjkLtOSQSgzJUVzlkNel7-A-OBX3O3Eha2X13smN/s1600/pug+family.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTINjGh8WkDXE0IniInrmxjjv8rwRcng22sloPtQn7MW5CB3flAEa8KV-QPRjfDVz7dDk4EoL6RvRumcdUtpmWcUVAZTdtWj1R25LeYjkLtOSQSgzJUVzlkNel7-A-OBX3O3Eha2X13smN/s1600/pug+family.jpg" /></a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-51835268965905590852014-09-23T07:30:00.000+02:002014-09-23T07:30:29.265+02:00A Girl's Guide to India! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jeez guys, the homies at the Travel Channel are taking so <i>super</i> long to
recognize my potential as their next travel show host… <i>Ugh, don’t you just hate
it when people don’t let you live your best life?</i> So in an effort to idle away
the time until stardom I have compiled “A Girl’s Guide to India”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you know me or my blog, you may already know that two years ago
Tommy and I went to India for six weeks of so much of everything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But real talk, if you know me even a little bit then you
definitely already know that since I find it really, <i>really </i>hard to not talk about it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See <a href="http://fabricoftheheart.blogspot.com/2012/08/india.html">here</a> and <a href="http://fabricoftheheart.blogspot.com/2012/09/udaipur.html">here</a>… Also
<a href="http://fabricoftheheart.blogspot.com/2012/10/india.html">here</a> and <a href="http://fabricoftheheart.blogspot.com/2013/09/chapati-nostalgia.html">here</a>
for proof. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me, it's like going to the moon and not talking about
it – crazy. It is the single most amazing place that I have <i>ever</i> experienced. Of course I’m going to
blab about it. I think that if I was a person that I hated then I would say something like “sorry, not
sorry”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For starters, India is a perfect example of why we are born
with senses. With so much to see, hear, smell, taste and feel, the physical
human experience is alight in India. So much so, that I kinda miss it, a lot.
Even though it was two years ago, I still think about it often. I have
travelled quite a bit (for a broke-ass person) and no place has hit me like
India. That’s the thing – it fucking knocks you out. In the best possible way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Other holidays kinda fade from my memory and exist like
snow globes that I can shake every now and then and say “shucks that was
nice!” But India stays with you forever and as cheddar-cheesy as it may sound, your life is better for it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That being said, I wish that I had known a few things before we embarked on our Indian adventure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTxTH7m6qMrYaqeDyhoyBl-1PoHZ1_ahrNSIXW941lAE7oRhip8BZFCb_6fzLV4svAO4jpaJNNA7dfpWv61wkKotV2uebmWqv8wW3MHM5f6cubL4OL_pYUc7xqPkEQE0bvIXTpJ_7UfP0/s1600/344.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/AVvXsEgGTxTH7m6qMrYaqeDyhoyBl-1PoHZ1_ahrNSIXW941lAE7oRhip8BZFCb_6fzLV4svAO4jpaJNNA7dfpWv61wkKotV2uebmWqv8wW3MHM5f6cubL4OL_pYUc7xqPkEQE0bvIXTpJ_7UfP0/s1600/344.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">It is a good idea to plan. Well, who would have
thunk it?!</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This might seem <i>super</i>
obvious but we’re not really planners (too much effort and stuff). So we
arrived in India with six weeks ahead of us and only accommodation in Delhi
organised and a flight to Leh. Big lols. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once in Delhi, we promptly found a somewhat dodgy travel
agent who booked the rest of our trip. So it wasn't really bad at all, but
still. Also, the travel agent's office was so fucking hot (it was a thing, okay) and we
missed out on visiting certain places simply because the travel agent wouldn't make any money from it. I really wanted to go to Pondicherry because of the Life of
Pi, but the travel agent was like “nah bish” and booked us a multi-city tour
starting in Delhi and ending in Fort Kochi. I wasn’t exactly unhappy, but I was
naïve. I should have insisted on Pondicherry (and Jodhpur) but alas, now I just
have to go back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Pack tampons.</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before I went to India I thought that the retail experience
was standardised. I thought that I could just run into an Indian version of
Woolies or Clicks and that would be that. Well, like I say almost every
day… <i>I was really wrong</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shopping is weird. Like good weird, but weird. I never
did find tampons but I stockpiled like the apocalypse was nigh so it
was fine. Okay, disclaimer: I am definitely not saying that there are no
tampons in India. Haha – why would I do that? I’m just saying that I couldn't find them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Don’t be an asshole like me, don’t pack short
anything.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCed21aM6nD1LycBgTS5rw38_4EuqJNi_hcoOqYkfLNxC2y4wDazMJw99XE2dZr49SKMWjrlRE1Za8NbDh-6V3PNgRLeNmOx7JaT2_qT5TdOyHRKH9t0xpUntQBs7PRNJiJSneMqjd1HSX/s1600/heatherindiaboobs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCed21aM6nD1LycBgTS5rw38_4EuqJNi_hcoOqYkfLNxC2y4wDazMJw99XE2dZr49SKMWjrlRE1Za8NbDh-6V3PNgRLeNmOx7JaT2_qT5TdOyHRKH9t0xpUntQBs7PRNJiJSneMqjd1HSX/s1600/heatherindiaboobs.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay wait, you can. Go ahead! *whistles past* But you will be a social
pariah. I know because my milky-white legs made me the belle of the ball and
not in a fun way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, here's a good one: wear a bra. Jeez Louise! I dunno how my mind works sometimes. I mean, I was hot, like fucking disco-inferno hot. So naturally I thought that it would be a swell idea to go bra-less. Needless to say, it rained. Needless to say, I can't show you any photos except the above from the day that I LIVED MY DREAMS AND WENT TO THE TAJ MAHAL because I didn't wear a bra and my boobs are saying "hi" in every photo. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Don’t take Tripadvisor etc. too seriously.</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sure, websites like the above can be informative and
helpful. Also, they make for fun reading if you’re into terrible spelling
and photos of sun burnt Brits. However, they also have a sneaky tendency to make
everywhere in India sound like it sucks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember once I was so angry at Tommy (he was super into
Tripadvisor) because he innocently read a review of our hotel in Agra before we
arrived. He then proceeded to inform me that we should be on the lookout for
“excrement and blood” on the bed. I wasn't as angry at him as I was terrified
of the bed when we checked in. After inspecting the bed and finding nothing it
was still difficult to sleep easy with the double-disaster “excrement and
blood” flashing in my mind.</span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Don’t become a sweaty pseudo celebrity like me.</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So here’s a fun fact, in India, I was like hot-shit. People,
namely men, wanted to take photos with me (a lot). Like they didn't even care
that I was sweating like Hunter S. Thompson. At first I was okay with it, but
then it descended to a weird, creepy-level that now makes me think that photos of me are crumpled up in someone’s spank bank. Also, not so fun for boyfriend. So yeah, just
don’t do it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdFubJOihU3sECEtXDpUlZbC7OpzlGksfksV_73zQBWxLmjpPHk-lHDv8McLtogzLzmau03Da9pH4xBH-MNaQILldxbeVJoogY6zIZQURdrPdtSgunCQYWO0ueGIF5krx-r6_AeZZXNn8/s1600/heathertomindai.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdFubJOihU3sECEtXDpUlZbC7OpzlGksfksV_73zQBWxLmjpPHk-lHDv8McLtogzLzmau03Da9pH4xBH-MNaQILldxbeVJoogY6zIZQURdrPdtSgunCQYWO0ueGIF5krx-r6_AeZZXNn8/s1600/heathertomindai.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Don’t wear makeup.</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Granted, we went in summer so I can’t vouch for any other
time of year or any person who has normal heat responses (sweating is an
unfortunate pastime of mine). But still, I have never, <i>ever</i> been so flippin’ hot
in my life. Makeup is a farce. The best you can do is tie a really, really
tight pony-tail and edit those photos like it’s Kimye’s wedding. As you can see in the above photo, I was not joking about photo editing. Homie don't play that, yo! </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm thinking of doing A Girl's Guide to Paris and Ireland next. But it might take like a month. In related news, travel sponsorships are welcome! </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-6175742252449363432014-09-08T21:25:00.002+02:002014-09-09T07:50:17.259+02:00Screw You, Marie Claire! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So there was a time, not too long ago when I <i>really</i> wanted to write, badly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, here's the zinger - I didn't want to tell anyone. I was scared and embarrassed, I mean shouldn't I have <i>already</i> published a novel or something? Also, what if I sucked balls? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So my usual M.O. was to secretly submit things that I had written to any publication with open submissions. I submitted this boo-hoo fest to Marie Claire in the hopes of exorcising my demons and finding a 6-figure book deal. Alas, not a word from MC (I am still holding out for the book deal), but hooey, here I am, I'm gonna self-publish this biatch because it hurt and it is important, albeit cringey to me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I wrote this last year in winter.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When my father died I was nineteen. My aunt told me what had happened and without strength I wept into
her shoulder. All language mutes in the presence of grief. Well, that’s
somewhat true, as I later learnt the simultaneous futility and satisfaction of
a multitude of four-letter words. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember the bizarreness of that first day
that I had found out. How it hadn’t really sunk in, so I could still joke,
albeit meekly, and smile as though my very own Atlas who had stoically held my
world together hadn’t shrugged off and left me. I often think that my occasional
smile must have seemed cruel and perverse, but it was all that I could muster,
stupefied by the audacity of the universe. You see, I had always thought that
my dad’s presence was a non-negotiable. My mother had died before I could
remember her and I naively thought that the universe was a strict score-keeper
meaning that I would be exempt from any future pain. Oh ha-ha, how that theory
has been proven wrong. Seriously Universe, you are fucked up! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the beginning, when I had just
found out, the only time that his death really punched me in the stomach, quite
literally, was in the bathroom. Alone with only the mirror to remind me of my
feeble mask, I tried to understand that my daddy, my darling daddy was dead.
When my mother had died, I didn’t have to think about how to deal with it, I
was two years old and I don’t remember anything about
her or her death. The rivers of pain that were to follow soaked my childhood
with tears and loneliness, but I was just a child so I didn’t consciously
navigate the grief or pain. I just felt the pain and let it colour my tentative
picture of the world. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, as a nineteen year-old I was at a total loss. I
had lost my dad, my compass, my home and I didn’t know how to deal with it.
Technically, I stress, purely technically, I was an adult and as an adult,
sadly, you are meant to lose your parents, so why did it feel so four-letter
word, four-letter word, unfair?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pain I felt was overwhelming and
confusing. It screamed for attention like a bludgeoned wound. Yet, a part of me
felt that I wasn’t allowed to feel so bad. I was a big girl now, I better act
like it, right? So I tried to mourn with faux dignity, to only cry enough to
lightly moisten the tissues in my purse. I now laugh resentfully at all of
this. What to mock first? When I was a child I would always stubbornly say that
my mother had <i>died</i>, she didn’t pass away or worse, I didn’t lose
her. She died. I half-heartedly invited the awkward silence that inevitably followed
my blunt statement as proof that the pain that I felt wasn’t insignificant. I
found the whole dilly-dallying of words insulting. Why should I dress up death?
It only looks good in black anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The days following the passing of my
dad were some of the worst days that I have known. The person that I would have
turned to in a crisis or even for a quick gossip was the very person that I was
mourning. I stumbled around with my pain as though it were a septic limb that I
couldn’t get rid of. I pathetically tried to be ‘normal’ with my friends and I
attended lectures. I was genuinely surprised when I was granted an extension on
all of my examinations, prior to that the world had cruelly continued to
function as though nothing had happened. I found this all <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>infuriating
and I wanted to tell anyone who would listen that my world was falling apart,
yet in reality I couldn’t say much and I reserved my feelings for quiet moments
alone in my flat or as I’m now embarrassed to admit, while walking the busy
streets of Cape Town. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember the first time that it happened. I was walking
down Long Street, a place that I had first discovered with my dad, and overcome
with anger and sadness, I cried and cried, my collarbones collecting my tears.
Looking back, I think that I felt so alone in the sea of faces and I knew that
no matter how many people I saw, my dad would never again be one of those
people. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now five years later, I think of
those early days without my father as a turning point in my life. As I slowly
and stubbornly realised that I could be happy in spite of his absence, I became
braver and more decisive; after all, what could the world possibly throw at me
that could be any worse? I still miss him every day and I desperately wish that
I could just hear his voice or see his sad blue eyes, but I now know that I am
luckier than most. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-ZA" style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My father, John Clancy, loved my brother and I so intensely
and doggedly that even five years following his death I still feel his love
swimming in my being as though I had just spoken to him. I once read that real
love is like fluoride in the water, it makes us stronger without our knowledge,
this is certainly true. I know that all those years in the sunshine of my
father’s love have given me more than enough strength to face the beautiful, terrible and wonderful world without him. I wish I could have told the nineteen year-old me
sobbing in the street that although I won’t see him again in person, if I
looked, not even very hard, I could see his love everywhere and sometimes that
will be enough.</span></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-51527717426557823532014-08-19T19:53:00.003+02:002014-08-19T19:53:59.313+02:00Love & Magic in the Future & Japan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaKDE6s7ErsdY1GzsqUOPHsxs8CMSd8m8qp-MaKv5y-8Na1tfl_DPO5un_YCtOYqgZCLzos-3u6JJ_NmWFZgOOFUmfHPxnXFk2gr-X9Y3OPg227K2dopz6p0ljXsP_PD1cvno6bDHnpff9/s1600/her-movie-still-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaKDE6s7ErsdY1GzsqUOPHsxs8CMSd8m8qp-MaKv5y-8Na1tfl_DPO5un_YCtOYqgZCLzos-3u6JJ_NmWFZgOOFUmfHPxnXFk2gr-X9Y3OPg227K2dopz6p0ljXsP_PD1cvno6bDHnpff9/s1600/her-movie-still-16.jpg" height="345" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqC0oud-lurRg_KMirfA5UQkZxBeMRAmuz8B2Whh1KORPJ53YZ1Kbw7J91Pjzn2BumK3luFi5OOVpm4j9k01SKTwsTAbzpR7M6zAtQ8y6JlLdJU9zqt0G-AmYJjEHwOKGXqybQXPoWO-Y/s1600/my-neighbor-totoro-1988-001-crawling-through-bush.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqC0oud-lurRg_KMirfA5UQkZxBeMRAmuz8B2Whh1KORPJ53YZ1Kbw7J91Pjzn2BumK3luFi5OOVpm4j9k01SKTwsTAbzpR7M6zAtQ8y6JlLdJU9zqt0G-AmYJjEHwOKGXqybQXPoWO-Y/s1600/my-neighbor-totoro-1988-001-crawling-through-bush.jpg" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First things first, you gotta watch both of these movies if you haven't already. Watching them is like being spooned by the universe. If I was a useless doctor I would prescribe these movies like a tonic for the sad and lonely. I sometimes want to be a doctor, for the money mostly, but also because I like helping people and stuff. Anyway, this is my contribution to the happiness quotient of the world. Watch these two movies and feel better. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But why?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, they are both ridiculously good, like ten-outta-ten vibes. They are also both deliciously life-affirming which is strange given the presence of a Catbus (see <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catbus" target="_blank">here</a>) and an intelligent operating system that with the perils of Vodacom shitty network coverage and airtime, seems maybe more unbelievable than a fucking Catbus. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Her" the top one if you didn't already know, is so beautiful to watch that it falls into the category of movies that you can absolutely enjoy on mute. But that doesn't mean that the dialogue isn't amazing, because it is... Intelligent, interesting and beautiful, the dialogue is still swimming in my brain, albeit bastardized by my poor memory. Also, I really, <i>really</i> loved the colours in the movie, rich hues of orange and brown, and the notable absence of the colour blue. The future according to Spike Jonze is actually a 1930's throwback with the presence of "close", intuitive technology. I kinda hope that he is right, I personally cannot wait to wear <a href="http://www.openingceremony.us/" target="_blank">Opening Ceremony </a>like it's a uniform. A movie about love. A movie about death, transience and high-waisted pants. I loved everything about it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now on to "My Neighbour Totoro". Goodness! This movie just made me want to wash my mouth out with soap (in the best possible way). It presents a world that is so sweet, innocent and sincere that it made me feel like I've been a bad girl my whole life for thinking otherwise. I only wish that I had watched it when I was younger instead of being introduced to the world via the lunacy of Disney's scare tactics. Actually, just thinking about the movie makes me smile and roar "TOHHH-TOHH-ROHHHH!" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In conclusion: now I really need to get to Japan and just get knee-deep in some Totoro merch. Also, I need to rethink my haters-hate-everything stance on Amy Adams given her great performance in "Her".</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-1912152640496444122014-07-29T17:49:00.001+02:002014-07-29T17:49:33.702+02:00Malawi! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwFKkLPWfmsDoeCJ8vO8qmCuNHT_8kiNMWkuqascaI2Ia9uZ4wvTMo0UZ_hsSN9cDjC_1Q_eMxKR857NV566mlmDhugwH018f_TJslxbF3pv1GJUHqP9vlJZjRHnlxQ5Ku1OuQszUuCQB/s1600/afterlight+(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwFKkLPWfmsDoeCJ8vO8qmCuNHT_8kiNMWkuqascaI2Ia9uZ4wvTMo0UZ_hsSN9cDjC_1Q_eMxKR857NV566mlmDhugwH018f_TJslxbF3pv1GJUHqP9vlJZjRHnlxQ5Ku1OuQszUuCQB/s1600/afterlight+(1).jpeg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBpE1WJnXZOO2IpYgewJKx_Ud0sVCSTHWAisdZCZKVGTeslIhALyejTqqJqY7iOm5e4KvJgcf93UjDiPT42fFW46C5ZEg-6HWwkZlUBDxsNwahyphenhyphenc-AobFUuChcoFazg6rbuiuGccoaBKQu/s1600/025+(23).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBpE1WJnXZOO2IpYgewJKx_Ud0sVCSTHWAisdZCZKVGTeslIhALyejTqqJqY7iOm5e4KvJgcf93UjDiPT42fFW46C5ZEg-6HWwkZlUBDxsNwahyphenhyphenc-AobFUuChcoFazg6rbuiuGccoaBKQu/s1600/025+(23).JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I never thought that I would go to Malawi, not because of any reason in particular but mostly because I never really thought about Malawi all that much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Only a two hour flight away, Malawi feels like it's really far from home. Both a complete outsider and yet still a fellow African, I attempted to juggle my amazement and embarrassment. It seems that in my life, I constantly oscillate between the two. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was amazed at its quiet-loud nothingness and it's vast compactness, a small-big country with opposites and questions and silence, lots of silence. I was embarrassed by my ignorance, the worst tourist with the worst questions, I smiled a lot and tried to not to think of Malawi in American "poor but happy" terms. It was hard, they <i>are </i>so poor and happy... Fuck. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our tour guide told me that in 1966 only six tourists visited Malawi. I wondered what they thought. I saw a women waiting (maybe she wasn't waiting) by a tree with no leaves, when we left the hotel a few hours later she was still there, waiting or not waiting, just standing in the same spot by a tree with no leaves. Time felt longer there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tried to remember as much as possible, I tried not to sleep in the car, I tried to not think about other stuff. I didn't remember how to say "hello". I did sleep in the car, badly. And I thought a lot about other stuff. I was hard not to, it seems that life follows you wherever you go. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Malawi is a really special country, I mean it. Maya Angelou said something along the lines of:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Yo</i></span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">u don't remember what people said or did or whatever, you remember how they made you feel </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(not a direct quote obviously). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well that's like Malawi, it </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">sneakily touches your heart and you don't how or when, you just kinda wish it well and want to send it a card a Christmas time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The people that I met were at times so earnest that I felt bad. My favourite person that I met was the driver, Patrick. I really wanted to show him a picture of Patrick Star from Spongebob, I don't know why. I didn't, thankfully. But he was so great, so sweet and he laughed like I'd imagine a tortoise would laugh. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Malawi is really great, just go and feel all warm inside. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me and Patrick:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheg21QyOpdDkxIIqdt_TVSUbYHR0Vw54tGiOMXn8DfrLxylPN1q2S8FnxmRaTcedyZdS73AvvNH1SicvZBgxv5Qx_LgNgdOk-RImOySeaHCOQ0rEfDHEktuTalVScqKAgbXMZRCYHKPokW/s1600/afterlight.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheg21QyOpdDkxIIqdt_TVSUbYHR0Vw54tGiOMXn8DfrLxylPN1q2S8FnxmRaTcedyZdS73AvvNH1SicvZBgxv5Qx_LgNgdOk-RImOySeaHCOQ0rEfDHEktuTalVScqKAgbXMZRCYHKPokW/s1600/afterlight.jpeg" height="331" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-39591858584096474532014-07-13T19:48:00.001+02:002014-07-13T19:48:54.129+02:00Travels, Dancing Babies & Stuff!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tommy and I have returned from our sojourn in the Eastern Cape. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seeing a bit more of our country has made me very appreciative of my birthplace. Joburg really is the best place ever (most of the time). Travelling invariably causes two feelings for me, I feel like I want to travel more and at the same time I just really want to go home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In other news, how great is this illustration by Mel Stringer:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_ympXDu7EmEuCsG-3RxP4VhyLjS6SVygWwDaKs1ZWe2CGlsCncmDXQhVVQKNXtSOj26iaIJrGCAiC1ao5JY8zGp7YzN6hCTmOaBbqrOv0HfLIQgRQyMAbwTcm5ZfFUTC0_3dF9rwmAV5/s1600/letgomelstringer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_ympXDu7EmEuCsG-3RxP4VhyLjS6SVygWwDaKs1ZWe2CGlsCncmDXQhVVQKNXtSOj26iaIJrGCAiC1ao5JY8zGp7YzN6hCTmOaBbqrOv0HfLIQgRQyMAbwTcm5ZfFUTC0_3dF9rwmAV5/s1600/letgomelstringer.jpg" height="640" width="456" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recently, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Instagram and movies have created a major NYC-shaped hole in my heart that can only be filled by a summer trip to The Big Apple. Tommy and I have seen many great cities together but </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Noo Yawk</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> remains the great unknown-known frontier. Movies and series have made us believe that we know New York, (c'mon, I've watched nearly every Woody Allen movie) but we still haven't gone. So I'm putting it out there, 2015 NYC is ours! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I haven't been updating FOFTHEH recently because I kinda die on the internet every single day so I feel like I've read everything, seen everything, laughed at everything and nothing is really exciting. This is a terrible outlook, I know, it is mostly fatigue related to the fact that I recently upgraded from a Blackberry (lol for days) to an iPhone. So in essence, this is my internet baptism by fire. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This week I need to wean myself of the internet and just reclaim the <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2008/sep/20/fiction" target="_blank">kingdom of my skull </a>without the opinion of every New Yorker columnist swimming in my head. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though I just said that nothing is really exciting on the interwebs, I still LOVE this:</span><br />
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<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/-g8y2_Dokck/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/-g8y2_Dokck&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/-g8y2_Dokck&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-57644493510402149022014-06-30T20:01:00.000+02:002014-06-30T20:01:32.484+02:00Thank You Universe!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGE4o2qZAlnlMak1RlqJpo6Wwya8_hqQAWzttalS_zGWK17bnxVqzyrAcNpwoqCtcz0HhvpCOD7_wnazgs3ODpABGGQ4bFdLV-RRvu5oScJNlWU0hyphenhyphenZ8smSa2FiHjFPD4gSVIyE6eGzhdg/s1600/zadiesmith.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGE4o2qZAlnlMak1RlqJpo6Wwya8_hqQAWzttalS_zGWK17bnxVqzyrAcNpwoqCtcz0HhvpCOD7_wnazgs3ODpABGGQ4bFdLV-RRvu5oScJNlWU0hyphenhyphenZ8smSa2FiHjFPD4gSVIyE6eGzhdg/s1600/zadiesmith.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #393939; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"The bottom line is: You're going to die. You're gonna be dead forever. It's an infinitely longer time than you ever were alive. And it's painful, but of course, the thing is, it's just intensely beautiful, too. Because infinite life, as even dogs in the street know, would be the hell that never ended. So it's this extraordinary, beautiful gift."</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #393939; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #393939; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been fangirling real hard lately. But I don't feel too bad, even Buzzfeed feels her vibe deeply (click <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/kevintang/15-zadie-smith-quotes-and-essays-that-will-rock-your-life?sub=2473544_1441792" target="_blank">here</a>).</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-18254458169292004732014-06-16T22:16:00.001+02:002014-06-16T22:16:53.676+02:00The Vicky B Theory!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTqda_1QWF7loNVFqH7V5GKOqa2eO_JL-UEOhlx7GUzusApaILJEczzlQ9w0Ef7izAHBESoeiVFzEdTnZ9UqTzEhtTfzgPNO7gq_v9rvhVuqt0enkMPiRfU6sNY95hNBPdWEI53OKjGKtJ/s1600/vickybretro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTqda_1QWF7loNVFqH7V5GKOqa2eO_JL-UEOhlx7GUzusApaILJEczzlQ9w0Ef7izAHBESoeiVFzEdTnZ9UqTzEhtTfzgPNO7gq_v9rvhVuqt0enkMPiRfU6sNY95hNBPdWEI53OKjGKtJ/s1600/vickybretro.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There was a time when this was the Spice Girls' world and we just danced in it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was like 11ish (I think) and the world was candy-colored and full of "girl power" and Union Jack swag. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like most butterfly-clip wearing preteens, I loved the spicy bunch and even had the video game. For the unacquainted, you could choose which Spice Girl you wanted to be and then Dance Dance Revolution your way to happiness. The thing is, I never chose Posh. Why? Well because even as an rotund board-short wearing preteen I knew that she was just... <i>Uh, how do you say in your language...</i> That's it: BASIC. I mean, proper. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It wasn't really her fault though. She was a crap singer and dancer, she seemed kinda awks in her own body and she wasn't very posh at all (only David Beckham's accent is worse than hers). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fast-forward to now and she's pretty <i>fakking</i> amazing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't have to tell you, you know. Hell, even Kanye knows. Apparently he is trying to turn Kimmy K into the next Vicky. *insert laughter track* But on the realz, her transformation is pretty gosh darn impressive, even butterflies are like "<i>dayyum girl, you really know all 'bout metamorphosis". </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now this isn't so much of a theory but I think that Vicky just always had it in her but she just knew that the time wasn't right in the early days. I mean, who was gonna take a pleather wearing gal from Essex seriously when it comes to serious-serious<i> fashuun</i>? Lesson Number 1: Stay in your lane. Lesson Number 1.2: Have a plan. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So basically, everyone has a time when they're Posh (not that that's so bad but still) and a golden time when they're Vicky B Designer to MICHELLE OBAMA & Maker of Things Like THIIIIIIS! (click<a href="http://www.victoriabeckham.com/shop/ready-to-wear" target="_blank"> here</a>). Lesson Number 2: Appreciate where you're at but always make that guap. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lesson Number Three: David Beckham is probably always a good idea. Everyone has their own D.B, so just think about it. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I'm typing this, I'm realizing that there's actually a whole manual that can be juiced from Vicky's life so I'm gonna stop right here for now. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-7463273722487590322014-06-11T18:07:00.000+02:002014-06-11T18:07:31.532+02:00I Like What's Going On Here<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRs1Oq8YtWX1dgo1hMJ5X79f-GKTrmR2Se3eW3qi3w0IWLjCWuVuvBPAo-xfc_mFpCivU8dpR6-zTcCP-mZCK4VrnpWqm2G-ETVM0kVXN-w3DXmaDEpI69Kd2ObFvn_776uGqZ8ZgNd7VJ/s1600/tenniscourt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRs1Oq8YtWX1dgo1hMJ5X79f-GKTrmR2Se3eW3qi3w0IWLjCWuVuvBPAo-xfc_mFpCivU8dpR6-zTcCP-mZCK4VrnpWqm2G-ETVM0kVXN-w3DXmaDEpI69Kd2ObFvn_776uGqZ8ZgNd7VJ/s1600/tenniscourt.jpg" height="640" width="524" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Wu2kyt3hpXyBiKFbKemqC1N-oB8bxleSh5kYFhPtQesOcwy8MnkFu0CamseRIb9jUqJ_dIOL3KN3JH4haVctmHD_MCJvp2zP35cDld-Q3QM-uifXyu_zFveh3CMHHA8xuESH9JaJ-ZB3/s1600/smilefreckles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Wu2kyt3hpXyBiKFbKemqC1N-oB8bxleSh5kYFhPtQesOcwy8MnkFu0CamseRIb9jUqJ_dIOL3KN3JH4haVctmHD_MCJvp2zP35cDld-Q3QM-uifXyu_zFveh3CMHHA8xuESH9JaJ-ZB3/s1600/smilefreckles.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_uJeNgIjG63qNI4CUHiA6W9LmKyy4q3xRfTJsFUKpQVK9vWXm8YUjBLv_pXcQAknBF_yppFkg7a35-qfI_xgcZMh74YlFu-XpecSpV0peEVGFPG5A1I2u0PKy71R9G4eoGa_5x6QWdlX/s1600/clay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc_uJeNgIjG63qNI4CUHiA6W9LmKyy4q3xRfTJsFUKpQVK9vWXm8YUjBLv_pXcQAknBF_yppFkg7a35-qfI_xgcZMh74YlFu-XpecSpV0peEVGFPG5A1I2u0PKy71R9G4eoGa_5x6QWdlX/s1600/clay.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I feel like there's a link between these images but I'm not going to get into it, I just really like it okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But also, (here's the fun part where I talk about myself) I'm kinda liking what's going on right now. I mean, as my people know, I got a new job and with that a new sense of oh-my-gosh-I-am-not-deathly-sour-in-the-morning. Then there's the whole "my people" thing, I mean, everyone has their own "my people" but not everyone has cultivated such a fine collection of human beings like I have. Okay let's be real, the collection is small, exclusive some might say, but it is all mine. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Special S/O to all those that send me photos of Asian babies and pugs, you know who you are. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So in order to spread the good cheer, here are some other things that I'm liking right now:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">YOUR FACE. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mad Men on Catch Up</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">https://nplusonemag.com/</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-54985526895853047912014-06-04T19:29:00.002+02:002014-06-04T19:29:51.814+02:00When People Are The Worst<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I be like: </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo9UXpdF6hR0E9GDbMOSI22_-WyMo9cLNI31uRHIkN-MKNcAoBh078UPNBfhK5THm_BOdIoao4dJ0ExlczkEQSFrlBRbEsvj8i9PQFabphGQCDJEt5n4Vc7jAM1qfNx8-aESgVqafm1MkL/s1600/margotpeople.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/AVvXsEjo9UXpdF6hR0E9GDbMOSI22_-WyMo9cLNI31uRHIkN-MKNcAoBh078UPNBfhK5THm_BOdIoao4dJ0ExlczkEQSFrlBRbEsvj8i9PQFabphGQCDJEt5n4Vc7jAM1qfNx8-aESgVqafm1MkL/s1600/margotpeople.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then, if they persist:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghAsqPthkFFddOihUKqtQ16CxfMQzOddE_UXxv1tnq0gI7vCz98dojjGD2jy_M3fTC-eHj9d46oNovB3aCGbLrhXev_cx6Pm7xZMuAjATZXgruoaW6P2-eR6Iv4sYEZC0XKBfR7BlxzuXf/s1600/katewhenpeoplesay.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/AVvXsEghAsqPthkFFddOihUKqtQ16CxfMQzOddE_UXxv1tnq0gI7vCz98dojjGD2jy_M3fTC-eHj9d46oNovB3aCGbLrhXev_cx6Pm7xZMuAjATZXgruoaW6P2-eR6Iv4sYEZC0XKBfR7BlxzuXf/s1600/katewhenpeoplesay.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And if it gets even worse, like it gets so bad it's sad: </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtr3jbHE5TNZHCkgwwzpJHE12d0Fw0SXRnvSEdB7M6Y53vTyhOkaRHtZOxu-Mxjn0ak40KifzTebbYb2b3cDp3KBf4U54Cq11lqLC2obvY4OrCjW79bgsFEXiwnsBMwthth7Q6igRuR9Pl/s1600/modelshame.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/AVvXsEgtr3jbHE5TNZHCkgwwzpJHE12d0Fw0SXRnvSEdB7M6Y53vTyhOkaRHtZOxu-Mxjn0ak40KifzTebbYb2b3cDp3KBf4U54Cq11lqLC2obvY4OrCjW79bgsFEXiwnsBMwthth7Q6igRuR9Pl/s1600/modelshame.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To be continued...</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-58810037132165845712014-05-30T07:07:00.000+02:002014-05-30T07:07:52.991+02:00FRIDAY! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRtiishfpbwox7Rx847qgdi2hEdgJk8ngG96DIbf-swqmSO9bNytPLGo2HUTr7m9HhVeGtaGjNiVbN1GhbLFD3psi79H8mNRBpM0XyTqvyVTRYTEAEexbyFOpbta8853zA69OM_9N_xwQ/s1600/dianaross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRtiishfpbwox7Rx847qgdi2hEdgJk8ngG96DIbf-swqmSO9bNytPLGo2HUTr7m9HhVeGtaGjNiVbN1GhbLFD3psi79H8mNRBpM0XyTqvyVTRYTEAEexbyFOpbta8853zA69OM_9N_xwQ/s1600/dianaross.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The stars have aligned.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is Friday, payday & the last day of my Jay-Oh-Bee!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the immortal words of Bey: "Lawd I'm gon' have me a time!"</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-81154709466600357442014-05-27T21:42:00.001+02:002014-05-27T21:42:34.212+02:00This Is The Goal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1z8jnnrpmXxa0ReVomfIF9acQpj1GjWqVTJqXbRzKFBt9rh0UYOSYpKnjamuLrB5w8jg3BjjQS_WT8FfaaezMYKoI53sGAfTTzs7ilgTVuS3ePzJFjqE0iE6Yq6HIjE3fQta-RuYjs7P3/s1600/372+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1z8jnnrpmXxa0ReVomfIF9acQpj1GjWqVTJqXbRzKFBt9rh0UYOSYpKnjamuLrB5w8jg3BjjQS_WT8FfaaezMYKoI53sGAfTTzs7ilgTVuS3ePzJFjqE0iE6Yq6HIjE3fQta-RuYjs7P3/s1600/372+(2).JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I saw this on Twitter and I pulled a sad face.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is just too much of everything that I want in life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To explain:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">MENSWEAR. The trend, the lifestyle, the clothes: I love it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, Imma let you in on a little industry secret: a zebra crossing in an editorial = urban setting (probably NYC) = city girl with an amazing apartment and life. Thanks every magazine ever! Don't you see? She's on her phone which obviously = oh-this-is-just-my-weekday-steez. Obviously. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, those shoes. Cut out detail is my thang dammit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then there's also the whole ponytail situation. I have always had ponytail envy cause even when I had long hair, I never (not once) achieved this. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm going for a haircut on Friday to save my self-esteem and end what appears to be the humble beginnings of a mullet. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-36622209849263206672014-05-20T18:58:00.000+02:002014-05-20T18:58:13.207+02:00Tommy's Post: Another Supreme x Vans Collab<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8lsCoCSEMrP7MYqNqlUdllzU2YKtZufmjtNTpUN5csJUIrToEgERjcXtYDHOccSE3aTNvfMohKEpHkw8LrmIHIXZ89U1u940r41vr3W2Twut5hGIkj2ntZzTR7dyOA_rxOo7Vy9ENGHft/s1600/supreme-vans-uptown-pack-2-960x640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8lsCoCSEMrP7MYqNqlUdllzU2YKtZufmjtNTpUN5csJUIrToEgERjcXtYDHOccSE3aTNvfMohKEpHkw8LrmIHIXZ89U1u940r41vr3W2Twut5hGIkj2ntZzTR7dyOA_rxOo7Vy9ENGHft/s1600/supreme-vans-uptown-pack-2-960x640.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWbVu6Ph3pbKydHbF7l0-u0RMa_E9wb9DwwhdQYOLunbPADoRJBAMlEuw3fDHz7R0UHBoduSDFBQNpjZV2PRWUF7CUznaLVE39yG2xpS6d1ZTCu1cl02OxXDXDMj5N4HbRnGqOMl15haA/s1600/supreme-vans-uptown-pack-1-960x640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWbVu6Ph3pbKydHbF7l0-u0RMa_E9wb9DwwhdQYOLunbPADoRJBAMlEuw3fDHz7R0UHBoduSDFBQNpjZV2PRWUF7CUznaLVE39yG2xpS6d1ZTCu1cl02OxXDXDMj5N4HbRnGqOMl15haA/s1600/supreme-vans-uptown-pack-1-960x640.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFcgFhohVDnHmHkm20MuCPa238_nKJsJPgEsYTCXBMZXk1LP-rrcTZ3oniHw5ebqV34XBgvY5BYP6ygftQYusih1Gja8k26oiDa5xPzjC1V7-dFqygmYrE_moczL-ee75ySjOb8uWs8xs/s1600/supreme-vans-uptown-pack-7-960x640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzFcgFhohVDnHmHkm20MuCPa238_nKJsJPgEsYTCXBMZXk1LP-rrcTZ3oniHw5ebqV34XBgvY5BYP6ygftQYusih1Gja8k26oiDa5xPzjC1V7-dFqygmYrE_moczL-ee75ySjOb8uWs8xs/s1600/supreme-vans-uptown-pack-7-960x640.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Somebody better tell the top brass at
Supreme that these collabs are getting played out. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m running out of ways to
say that I’m not American and will never own any of these products. But I’ll
try, just for you, loyal and dedicated FofTheH reader. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So you know when you’re walking down the
street in Kiev or Portland or Bogota and you see a guy or even lady, (since
we’re non-sexist here at the towers) and obviously this guy or lady is from a
lower socio-economic class than you are. You’re first thought isn’t “damn this
guy will be eating from the gutter tonight” or even “eish, I wish I had an
organically manufactured linen throw to give him” but rather “homie will never know
the pain of seeing somebody wear the limited release sneaker that I wanted but
couldn't get”.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then you’re like "I wish I was that innocent".,, Man,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know, whenever I see a homeless
guy I avert my eyes and then go home and complain about the government.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well right now that’s me, not the gutter
man but the man in pain. Rampant consumerism not satisfied is the hardest hit
of them all.</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-76943669548650571642014-05-14T21:26:00.000+02:002014-05-14T21:26:26.004+02:00Tommy's Post: Power Rangers Movie!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE1vN5cWSWylKHx5ZTFGPT_avQt0LgIW5j8mLEYHZRf1Yq6sOAp9iRk566L3Kx6DxV8NkDvyJsQ6XcqvrVWDcNrBgShjo0aCnkaaDYFTvHg4kuDtspM-Dm6BNEvYTD-deqzxGCYMf8-bC/s1600/tumblr_n5jbokLsHx1tx0eb6o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE1vN5cWSWylKHx5ZTFGPT_avQt0LgIW5j8mLEYHZRf1Yq6sOAp9iRk566L3Kx6DxV8NkDvyJsQ6XcqvrVWDcNrBgShjo0aCnkaaDYFTvHg4kuDtspM-Dm6BNEvYTD-deqzxGCYMf8-bC/s1600/tumblr_n5jbokLsHx1tx0eb6o1_500.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">When I was a young lion, all I wanted to be
was a Power Ranger. </span></div>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Specifically, the Blue Ranger, Billy. I have no idea why
because there actually was a ranger with my name; Tommy the White Ranger who
used to be the angsty conflicted Green Ranger. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think it had something to do
with the fact that he was the “white ranger”. Has anybody else realised that
the yellow and black rangers were played by actors who were yellow and black...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Man, I was such a connoisseur, when my
friends played we would create new Power Rangers...</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gold and Silver Ranger but
some asshole ruined the game when he called himself the Diamond Ranger and made
himself indestructible because his mum told him that diamonds are and I quote,
“the strongest material known to man”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We told that homie to squash off his red bums and go play with the
girls.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pictures of me from that era show a young
yellow boy, trying to pull karate poses in his loose fitting underpants, this
was before I started the McDonalds diet that basically ruined my tween days.
Also, my parents, bless them, got me a book that had me in it with the Power Rangers, fighting the putty patrol and saving the day using our Zords. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Tommy thank you for helping out the power
rangers, you’re a really cool kid” said Jason, the Red Ranger. Yes, my
childhood was better than yours.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There’s a power ranger’s movie coming out
and despite the fact that it probably shaped my young life more than anything
else, it will be terrible. A disgusting piece of cinema that will shatter
dreams and destroy childhoods. Any actors unfortunate enough to be caught in
that mess, I will pray for you.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Regardless, I’m still gonna watch it and
will probably cry in the cinema.</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-14499349936023640202014-05-13T18:25:00.000+02:002014-05-13T18:25:28.242+02:00I Feel Like I Look A Little Bit Like Ryan Gosling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaV7epkNWfX3o3sm-H1Ml1C15x-Q7c_41orOoA_bUA7l-md-ogBPsFIS19fOJ4HK_yWoBzXq5OxGjUO5R5WYnZSQvc5kixsWo5ebyEyzD0VPlkOPEo-zEP_ZLqDa2WwznAMiWabMpTnLpW/s1600/ryangglasses.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaV7epkNWfX3o3sm-H1Ml1C15x-Q7c_41orOoA_bUA7l-md-ogBPsFIS19fOJ4HK_yWoBzXq5OxGjUO5R5WYnZSQvc5kixsWo5ebyEyzD0VPlkOPEo-zEP_ZLqDa2WwznAMiWabMpTnLpW/s1600/ryangglasses.png" height="466" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_umlancHss16TH2muOCAHrFVbL1UMQztMdTRQSCNQ0-ro-PRXDDsGlJX6CHrfTJoVv0jGrIstjA1jTEeQpvE1DxXDV9MdpXGUiuaJla8tcvLGHyKvURQj-HpSBnP7XsBUusBC2JCsmgDJ/s1600/010+(35).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_umlancHss16TH2muOCAHrFVbL1UMQztMdTRQSCNQ0-ro-PRXDDsGlJX6CHrfTJoVv0jGrIstjA1jTEeQpvE1DxXDV9MdpXGUiuaJla8tcvLGHyKvURQj-HpSBnP7XsBUusBC2JCsmgDJ/s1600/010+(35).JPG" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just a little bit. But it is undeniable okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This photo was taken on a <i>very</i> sad day (I always smile through the tears).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, now, it wasn't a sad day for anything real or important. Never that. Concisely, it was a sad day because #middleclassproblems.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tommy and I had gone to the Winter Sculpture Fair (great idea) but we didn't draw cash before (very bad idea) and so with most of the card machines not working we shared a single glass of wine and a single tuna patty! THE HORROR. Listen, I had planned to eat like it was the last supper. I didn't really give a hot damn about the sculptures. I mean, I'm all about food, really. So it was quite tragic. Also, it wasn't very funny that the event was sponsored by Mastercard. But, I got quite drunk (I'm sad and cheap like that) <i>and</i> it was very pretty <i>and</i> the people watching was excellent. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So basically this is a note to myself: pack cash like you trying buy a-grade drugs. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-88172437579083041962014-04-29T21:55:00.002+02:002014-04-29T21:55:17.432+02:00Kanye's Face Sums Up Everything Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdt1i7VRKyvwfpr8g0rIe7Bo1GERaQYoHad-WGkcGBl-ePThK9ClqwMeMfkLqzs2vALok6SUwTzJ0oKrvbLa8FwhA17Vbyvfg1ZqyPaKnEyH78_cbPw2ZEXHO2bw3P02Ww-FHWBXWpGQk/s1600/kanye+sour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdt1i7VRKyvwfpr8g0rIe7Bo1GERaQYoHad-WGkcGBl-ePThK9ClqwMeMfkLqzs2vALok6SUwTzJ0oKrvbLa8FwhA17Vbyvfg1ZqyPaKnEyH78_cbPw2ZEXHO2bw3P02Ww-FHWBXWpGQk/s1600/kanye+sour.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kanye just <i>really</i> gets my vibe. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just last week he understood my entire chi (see <a href="http://fabricoftheheart.blogspot.com/2014/04/kanyes-face-sums-up-everything.html" target="_blank">here</a>) and now look at him...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He's also pissed that tomorrow is a work day. <i>Like, dafuq, really now?</i> </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-47032487836014723252014-04-29T21:27:00.002+02:002014-04-29T21:27:43.295+02:00Moomin in Japan!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQiITqGRfSzoVyiXXNm7n1HzW90Xu-TFunvxzn7TwVD5_4Pj7SECgSOcm7sgqsGTvzQyOiWNNCMcaJA1MZiAHJg_2zQ_yUGsinbIsZFge-QSBf2uX3gSRrJMVdJZyqDVXLXLdicdKaidDD/s1600/moominmymblelittlemy51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQiITqGRfSzoVyiXXNm7n1HzW90Xu-TFunvxzn7TwVD5_4Pj7SECgSOcm7sgqsGTvzQyOiWNNCMcaJA1MZiAHJg_2zQ_yUGsinbIsZFge-QSBf2uX3gSRrJMVdJZyqDVXLXLdicdKaidDD/s1600/moominmymblelittlemy51.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So add this to the long list of reasons why I have to go to Japan. See here: <a href="http://metro.co.uk/2014/04/28/moomin-cafe-offers-lonely-customers-stuffed-animals-to-sit-with-during-lunch-4711473/" target="_blank">clickety click!</a></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-22211375178255640952014-04-22T20:16:00.003+02:002014-04-22T20:17:05.547+02:00New Balance X Shelflife x Dr.Z!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLaImiX540KyE3fbcYDVro-czZImQDOEdKWt8OQ4QC33mST9W4zWBBvt5SUcjqTF8MdCyvNBbwEJYUab8HgmOH7JTYS6qncel_dWO9zTERa_Gpz2rl69Y9MQK43rARD0mMEnYDZcyLUKH9/s1600/new+balance+joburg+shelflife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLaImiX540KyE3fbcYDVro-czZImQDOEdKWt8OQ4QC33mST9W4zWBBvt5SUcjqTF8MdCyvNBbwEJYUab8HgmOH7JTYS6qncel_dWO9zTERa_Gpz2rl69Y9MQK43rARD0mMEnYDZcyLUKH9/s1600/new+balance+joburg+shelflife.jpg" height="512" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"Built with premium detailing and materials, the "City of Gold" 574 features a mix of mesh, nubuck, pigskin suede and reflective 3M heel panels. Further notable features include the yellow speckled sole, prawn graphic lace locks, yellow lace tips and variant branding on the heel."</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whachoo know 'bout that pigskin suede?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nadda. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, me too. This launch party thing just seemed like a cool idea and it was at Randlords so y'know #fancy. I'm not sure who calls Randlords their "local" but the view from the bathroom is mighty nice. I have been considering crossing over to New Balance, in fact, Tommy and I have held several caucuses weighing up the various pros and cons. Pro: my Roshe's need a rest sometimes too. Con: the New Balance shop we visited in Durban... Think: Hot Mess City! Anyhoo, it's quarter to payday (thank you Yeezus) so who knows what spending decisions I will be regretting in the near future. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shoutout to New Balance, Shelflife and Dr. Z for making us feel like we can also have nice things like Japan or somewhere. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSSXtp1oJ4ZScrCko_5WiXahs2sBL0nwsNzhyPFo1dKJzfC0jc8cO3zM7T5oRrQGeYnjXOK1PmXFjvb7Nl2eu4vB_M5itKfM6wkFlX6xbMLrECnmta_h2ah1ACME0LWXjgwzZOSQ66z1C/s1600/new+balance+shelflife+joburg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSSXtp1oJ4ZScrCko_5WiXahs2sBL0nwsNzhyPFo1dKJzfC0jc8cO3zM7T5oRrQGeYnjXOK1PmXFjvb7Nl2eu4vB_M5itKfM6wkFlX6xbMLrECnmta_h2ah1ACME0LWXjgwzZOSQ66z1C/s1600/new+balance+shelflife+joburg.jpg" height="210" width="640" /></a></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-28714830074059401482014-04-21T20:30:00.000+02:002014-04-21T20:30:06.205+02:00Tommy's Post: Pigalle Pigs Alley<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-6Td7wA_1xWi_iAwxsaNb7OjlOk6N1SILluwjXoELs-LqS0sZL6dzulMf8uw0Kh1tesT0uYSIkicKzwQGiUzTNubKdz5RkxES6g71vm4L6aXmT3wqTnK_rVyuS590HlcIHnJwtgblEjl/s1600/tumblr_n41nevKOfF1qc7oh0o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-6Td7wA_1xWi_iAwxsaNb7OjlOk6N1SILluwjXoELs-LqS0sZL6dzulMf8uw0Kh1tesT0uYSIkicKzwQGiUzTNubKdz5RkxES6g71vm4L6aXmT3wqTnK_rVyuS590HlcIHnJwtgblEjl/s1600/tumblr_n41nevKOfF1qc7oh0o1_500.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">H</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">eathe</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">r is amazing. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In Paris, she indulged my internet needs and walked for close to 2 hours on 2 separate days through Pigalle, looking for thee Pigalle. She braved the cold, the sex shops, the strip clubs, the prostitutes and Chinese tourists all for me, yung Dennis. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Needless to say, we didn't find Pigalle. We found the cold desire of broken men and absolutely no hoodies with the black box logo, nothing! Just depressing sex.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think I was depressed for like 1 day straight. Even Proust doesn't know the depression of failed shopping.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyways, it's now April and I'm in Joburg. Pigalle and Nike are collaborating on something...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't know... It's all hush hush but</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> apparently it has something to do with the Nike Air Force 1, which is cool I guess.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I want to know is when will Pigalle collab with Fabric of The Heart?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For your enjoyment, here are pictures of terrible people wearing Pigalle.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzSlsbM1yLSO3A6Wzyv8OTxFncM880eO0L91ZI8Eq8P9tF5UGcpctanYzwFWw6ClXVoZSYwBFxc3S6YAlJTmboc3iJuSYUMGoaEyhQydFU7EgzOX4csX5qSo67HWgcDCqX6aAfMSEPshRo/s1600/tumblr_mtg622nnCc1s7jfqco1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzSlsbM1yLSO3A6Wzyv8OTxFncM880eO0L91ZI8Eq8P9tF5UGcpctanYzwFWw6ClXVoZSYwBFxc3S6YAlJTmboc3iJuSYUMGoaEyhQydFU7EgzOX4csX5qSo67HWgcDCqX6aAfMSEPshRo/s1600/tumblr_mtg622nnCc1s7jfqco1_500.png" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkBCptPNL4SgaF0QwWgiJzXm1W16WA3z1O77clT45s2EOU3m-bRmaTl4yMwEY0mpmIFABDu-dUSe7isjvFzGIFV6wa7L0wSDlXZoKYBUCWnhzqydJSe5GMqYTpjmq9QmuSDRxMXzgWoVV6/s1600/tumblr_n1w3bufnWR1rpt0jio1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkBCptPNL4SgaF0QwWgiJzXm1W16WA3z1O77clT45s2EOU3m-bRmaTl4yMwEY0mpmIFABDu-dUSe7isjvFzGIFV6wa7L0wSDlXZoKYBUCWnhzqydJSe5GMqYTpjmq9QmuSDRxMXzgWoVV6/s1600/tumblr_n1w3bufnWR1rpt0jio1_500.jpg" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-64263847174613402632014-04-15T15:40:00.003+02:002014-04-15T15:40:43.325+02:00White Sock & Other Fantasies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPib8JKvKi4N_bpVFPny7lFTGGQMq5HkAyDgXYb98hZYzZCXJgcGvqieExp0owkD1s1bcznaXEOeirUFBxPQmd1BfI1c__UVk1ryK83LDAIG9QlebPWT9kWEodwksFPI1ozCVcoROFhRqg/s1600/toocoolsockswhite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPib8JKvKi4N_bpVFPny7lFTGGQMq5HkAyDgXYb98hZYzZCXJgcGvqieExp0owkD1s1bcznaXEOeirUFBxPQmd1BfI1c__UVk1ryK83LDAIG9QlebPWT9kWEodwksFPI1ozCVcoROFhRqg/s1600/toocoolsockswhite.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This photo does things to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back in the dizzle, when I was would wear a moon-bag (with no irony), I would imagine my future to be something like this: smoking, sportswear X lifestyle and you-can't-sit-with-us eyes. I mean, it is like this photo is stolen from my ten year old brain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The bright white socks alone make me lick my lips. At the ripe old age of 25, I still attempt to recreate this vibe into my day-to-day look, although more cautiously and more aware of the omnipresence of my thighs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, I don't have you-can't-sit-with-us eyes, rather, I have been gifted with everybody-talk-to-me eyes which mean that I have been asked for advice, toilet paper and political insight from a menagerie of strangers. I actually enjoy talking to people so I don't mind, although I wish I could be Naomi cool. She's apparently dating Michael Fassbender hey... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I should probably just go whole-hog and live my fashion dreams, I mean YOLO dressing is a thing (see <a href="http://www.manrepeller.com/2014/04/yolo-dressing.html" target="_blank">here</a>) but at 7 in the morning when I am getting dressed I don't think about fashion or anything really. I just think about tea and my afternoon nap; I'm basically a baby adult. I bought cute socks from Cotton On recently so it is a start. Like the Manrepeller says: </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Carpe Diem, it’s Latin for YOLO.</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-65615402942204758732014-04-15T07:25:00.001+02:002014-04-15T15:45:29.351+02:00Kanye's Face Sums Up Everything<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Uqq6OaO54_qsTFrvwJpmxeOoO1BfHV8DujDyEv_rpLLMg51bX7pewaERBlUTJmP8wlOzHsrfMEQPuFztuCOv5ehyphenhyphenDBERzFFg2hz3cnm4H0M6v-M0tGBAnKI0xI4MMwIOZoPjDdM8SSLH/s1600/kanye+is+tired2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Uqq6OaO54_qsTFrvwJpmxeOoO1BfHV8DujDyEv_rpLLMg51bX7pewaERBlUTJmP8wlOzHsrfMEQPuFztuCOv5ehyphenhyphenDBERzFFg2hz3cnm4H0M6v-M0tGBAnKI0xI4MMwIOZoPjDdM8SSLH/s1600/kanye+is+tired2.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it Thursday yet?</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9217233799241545235.post-25507690040775609852014-04-03T17:28:00.000+02:002014-04-03T17:28:14.212+02:00Tommy's Post: Products of The Cold North<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Created to improve life. Good for all seasons.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Isn't that the greatest vision statement you've ever read? I know I like it. I like it so much that sometimes I go the website and just stare...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Truth time, children. I've actually been to a Norse Projects store and it was in Scandinavia! Huzzah! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Disappointingly, I didn't know it was Norse Projects at the time, I was young and it was cold. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My brother bought a cap made out of an actual Japanese person's old carpet, which I thought was a bad idea at the time. Now I love that cap like it's my own child. But ever since that cold mess of a trip to Copenhagen, I've been lusting over Norse Projects in a way that makes Heather sigh in disappointment at her boo.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That Scandinavian minimalism, those Elka parkas, the athletic tee's, come on! God or whoever the fuck's up there, just give me a yung sponsorship or at the very least a free beanie, at this point I'd even take a stick with Norse Projects written on it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My favourite brands make clothes that blur the line between menswear and sportswear. Essentially clothes that create the impression that I have nowhere important to be, no job, no family to provide for, just me and my super-luxe living.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If no one has noticed, what I basically want for my birthday and every other celebratory day is Norse Projects.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Contact details for deliveries of Norse Projects:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">082 Norse Projects or alternatively you can contact me at: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">norseprojectsmakesmehardinaweirdscandinavianway@gmail.com</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01491645422993627058noreply@blogger.com0