Playing it cool on the set of Harry Potter.

Zara coat. & Other Stories top. Oasis jeans. Topshop hat. Tatty Devine speech bubble necklace. Adidas Superstar trainers.

Visiting Durham

Do you ever get it in your head that you're going to love a place, despite never having visited? Well, I did. I've been internally bigging up Durham for a long ol' time, and when I got wind of my pal Clarity moving there, it was only a matter of time before I'd booked myself some train tickets and was on my way up. I'm not even sure why I'd wanted to go for so long, as it's not like it's been repeatedly talked about online (yeah, you guys have massively killed any want to head to Brighton again, can you stop now?), and barely gets any mentions by my friends. I'm just going to assume that it's down to how much I like York, and just thinking it's an even further North version of that.

Thankfully, Durham lived up to my expectations, and then some.

Okay, okay, the weather's just as bad as it is in Manchester, but as my hair is now in a permanent state of frizzy, I was more than happy to wander from the train station down into town and head straight out for lunch. Clarity recommended a place called Leonard's Coffee House, and boy do they do a decent toasted sandwich. I mean, nothing will come between me and my love for Northern Soul's grilled cheese sandwiches (nothing, I swear), but this sarnie is moving its way up on my List of Sandwiches I Need to Master.

We then headed onwards and upwards to the Cathedral. Even if half of it is currently covered in scaffolding - damn you unphotogenic renovations - it's still pretty impressive, dominating the Durham skyline. Of course, I lost my shit when I recognised bits from the Harry Potter films, so got myself a cheesy lil snap "on set". Don't even try to pretend you wouldn't too.

I've got another post coming up on my second day of visiting Durham too (been storing these up for a while), so keep an eye out if you're a fan of cream teas and peonies like every single blogger out there. Hardly surprising I've been a bit absent from the internet when I've had to deal with such cliché delights, is it?

Where we went

What's on Insta

Read more

Isn't it boring when I talk about my dreams.

Primark coat: £30 (old). Topshop french bulldog top: £18. Vintage suede skirt: £8. Vintage bag: 50p. Topshop frill socks: gift. Chelsea boots: c/o Ted and Muffy.

After a weekend spent on a lot of forms of transport, my head's been all over the place; until I've had my flat white from Pret on the way into work, at least. Call it Network Rail Jetlag (or something), but I've spent this week looking a little bit like the crazy tongue out emoji, but we've made it to the weekend - hurrah! So, while I recover and try to act more like I've got an ounce of sanity in there, I thought I'd take a tip out of the last shadow puppets' lyrics and talk about some of the dreams I've had, most of which have little logic to their name.

When I was little, I used to dream a lot about being in mazes. Not necessarily a nightmare scenario (although those happened too), but there were a lot of twists and turns, which I like to thank for my now second-to-none sense of direction.

When in sixth form, I used to be surrounded by people all shouting my name, vying for attention. Thinking back, that seemed to happen when I woke up too. Bloody whatsapp.

More recently I've found it more and more difficult to remember what's going on in that noggin pre-7am. If it were to be reflecting real life it'd probably be a series of colour-coordinated calendars and google docs, but from the strange snippets my brain's decided to cling on to there are locations a lot like Munich's Hofgarten and a lot of walking. Give us a shout, if you fancy decoding that.

And there was that one time I dreamt about being friends with Miles Kane and Alex Turner, but then I read a few more Shortlist interviews in real life and realised that probably wouldn't work out okay.

brb, sleeping for a full eight hours.

Read more

You showed me there was something more to us.

The Kooples leather jacket. Topshop dress: £15. Hobbs boots: £40. Brit Stitch satchel. Catarzi fedora: £25 (now £12 in sale).

There are many, many shades of stubborn.

Generally considered to be a "bad" trait due to quite a lot of spoilt brat connotations, stubborn's got a bit of a bad rep. A good 75% of the time, it's well deserved, but that other 25% needs an apology. Several times over. Seeing as I'm doing this on my phone (why did I book an airbnb without wifi? Or why does an airbnb without wifi exist?) and need something wordy to fill my Sunday morning, let's try to create a magical scale of stubborn, which we may all refer back to in times or need/probably an argument.

0-25% - You're wrong, you know you're wrong, but like f you're going to admit it
Also called "when the penny drops". We've all be there, even Steven Hawking. Most commonly happens when in a state of severe stress/sleep deprivation/skim reading, or all three. It's tough, but maybe just admit at the time you know you're wrong, and take it out on them some other time ("oh, you've finished your drink? Sorry, I didn't notice when I bought this round").

26-50% - You're pretty sure this is the best idea of all time
Shout out to anyone who's ever found themselves trekking to town in the pouring rain as their friend's found the most amazing place for brunch, only for it to have stopped serving at 11.30. No, we don't care that it does the best compote this side of Brittany, or whether the place down the road's fry up is nearly as good, where is my stack of beautifully fluffy pancakes? I feel this may also apply to parents, god help you.

51-75% - You're doing this for their own good, you know
More often than not, this can be applied to some sadistic early alarm (no, I do NOT want to leave my bed today, hard as it is to believe), but is also relevant when people aim to help you face your fears in some ilk, or buy you running shoes cos they heard your new years resolution was to get fit. Very nice of you and all, but that was so January.

76%+ - You're right, you've got the facts to back you up, but nah
This is the adult equivalent of being patted on the head, and told to play with your toys. Bring it up to mid twenties, and it's when you're sat in a strategy meeting and you're pushing for something, but your line manager is being a mouthpiece for the execs; they know you're sense but "I'm big, you're small" and we WILL be doing this.

And then there's the one where there's the dress from topshop you've been after for months, reduced to £15, but definitely a size too small. You get it after Cheese-mas and you actually look like a roll of camembert, but wear it anyway. I'd gauge this around the 47% mark.

Brb, off to wander the cheese section of Booths (look but don't touch).

Read more

A love letter Christmas.

River Island faux fur scarf: £28 (now £15, typical). Topshop jacket (old): £27. Luella dress (old): ebay. Over the knee boots: c/o Schuh.

It's happened again. Working in retail, we were finalising our Christmas campaign way back in June, and that Thing in the distance has suddenly clicked its fingers in my face, but instead of digits it was someone spilling mulled wine on my desk. Now it's somehow Christmas Eve, I've started making up for lost time on the mince pies (how gorgeous are these ones from Bettys?) after recovering from the Christmas party, and it'll all be festive cheer the moment it clocks 1 and we finish for the weekend.

Just a quick one from me today, as these wreath-filled photos might be a tad out of season if I wait until my normal Sunday to post, but all my love for the big day - hope you get out of it argument-free and have three times your GDA of roast potatoes! brb, eating five days worth of advent calendar chocolates.

Read more

I had a dream I can buy my way to heaven.

Oasis floral dress: coming soon. Karen Millen boots: £25, sample sale. Topshop bag: £25. Rotary watch: gift.

There may not be tinsel-covered jumpers and falling snow all over this blog, but it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas. A couple of weeks back, Sabby and I headed to Newbury racecourse for the Hennessey Gold Cup, and that little Berkshire town seriously knows how to make things feel seasonal. We started the day catching up with Kim and Stew on the way over, before heading to check out the races. We quickly realised that this wasn't 100% our thing (expectations: cosy drinks and a lil bit of entertainment. Reality: actual hardcore races, and people very loudly betting), so took the short walk into town for something a little quainter - including reindeer.

First things first, we stopped by a pub called Lock, Stock and Barrel, which overlooks the river Kennet. It served as the perfect cosy respite from the bitterly cold wind with fish and chips that get an A+ rating from me, and I think I miiight just have recovered from the previous day's Black Friday nightmare. We then took a wander through the town centre, made pals with the bloke above (#onthepull), and spent a little more time and money in Temptation gift shop than I care to admit, but I'm definitely not ashamed. We then travelled back to the big smoke for more festive-themed (read: camembert) activities as we met up with a few more friends to catch-up well into the night. As far as days go, they don't come much more perfect than that.

Read more