What do wide-leg trousers and Trafford Centre yoga have in common?

Photos by Clare.

Trying something new.

Last weekend, when these photos were taken, was a weekend of firsts. I know that I can be pretty blasé when it comes to giving things a go (I direct you to most of my activities in life), so this may come as no surprise to you, but these photos sum up two very big (well...) firsts for me.

1. Fast yoga in the middle of the Trafford Centre.

Picture this: email pops up asking if you'd like to give yoga a go. Sure? you think. Why not? you nod. And without a second thought you and Clare (we missed you Laura!) are in your gym kit, headed towards the Trafford Centre. Now, I'm no yoga aficionado - getting there, maybe one day - but I've been to a few classes and sort of know what I'm doing. Add the fact you're in the middle of the bloody Trafford Centre in the mix and things start to get a little terrifying. Of course, when faced with this kind of situation you have two options: drink, or laugh your way through it. Seeing as it was about 3pm, the former wasn't really an option, so instead I accepted the situation for what it was and chuckled my way through the entire session. A massive thanks to Lighter Life Fast for inviting us as, despite my misgivings when I saw its location, I did end up enjoying it. And when I do yoga next time, I'll be able to boss it in the comfort of a purpose-built studio.

2. Wide-leg trousers.
Thought this was a let down after point one? Mate, you don't know the struggle. Since my pair of Tammy Girl flared jeans I LOVED as a little one (I was probably 13, but whatever), I've been a skinny jean wearer through and through. Of course, being a long-time Alexa Chung fangirl, I'd been keeping an eye on M&S's collaboration with the IT girl and headed to the massive one in central Manchester to form my own opinions of the collection on launch day. I took a few bits to the changing rooms, and couldn't have been more surprised with the outcome. The Harry dress, what I'd thought would've been a dead cert, is so see-through I don't know how anyone's managed to convince themselves it's a worthwhile purchase, and the Ada blazer fits way too boxy for anyone with more than a B size boob. But, slap me silly and call me Susan, I was impressed with the Ada trousers. I'm not sure what's happened to me, but in a funny half hour I handed over forty quid and took them home with me. Don't get me wrong, they stayed in my wardrobe unworn for a good fortnight, as I ummed and ahhed as to whether I ought to return them or not, but I thought this weekend were as good as any to give 'em a go. I've worn them as pared down as possible with my new shoes (cue: it must be love, love, love) and my ever-faithful white tee, and you know what? I don't know what I was stressing about: it's all okay.
Top tip: if your wide-leg trousers start to go a little static-y and stick to your legs, spray the inside with a light layer of hairspray and it'll fix the problem right away.

Back to the present: this weekend's first was Northern Soul's grilled cheese sandwich and I'm never looking back. brb, cheese coma.

What I'm wearing:

Marks and Spencer, Archive by Alexa wide-leg trousers: £39.50. Missguided tee: £8. Public Desire Katie glove shoes.

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I'll have the usual.

The new monochrome uniform.

Is it a blogger sin to upload two almost identical monochrome outfits, one after the other? Cos, it's happening, and I'm not even about to apologise. I've found myself reaching for the same old pieces time and time again, relying on what etailers constantly call "basics" (mate, you trying to tell me something?), whatever the weather and whatever the season. Of course, my leather jacket is my child and cost about the same, so it will always, always be a staple in my wardrobe. Add in this super soft (and super cheap: £8!!) white tee that I now have in several colours, a slightly straight, slightly a-line faux leather skirt and my kinda boxfresh trainers 100% inspired by Natalie, and you've got yourself an outfit straight out of Cohen-ton. Maybe it's because I'm not a morning person, or maybe it's because I'm slowly developing a sense of style, but it sure is handy when you wake up after snoozing three alarms and need to shower and be on a bus to work stat.

Much like walking into the pub, making eye contact with the bar-tender (HI SCOTT) and then immediately cracking open a cider, it's always good to have those things you can rely on. If we're talking drinks, cheeses, shops and coffee, then I don't see why clothes, shapes and fits don't fit onto the same list. I like my slouchy tees and crew neck jumpers, and find that they're the kind of things you can dress up and down to make the most of whatever crap you decide to spontaneously purchase from asos after you've had a gin and missed the returns cut-off date for.

I'll never stick to monochrome outfits 100% of the time, but as long as I've got the same reliable shapes and fabrics, it's fair to say I'm on to a winner. And, as the saying goes, if it ain't broke wear a stripy t-shirt. And I have a lot of those to hand.

What I'm wearing:

The Kooples leather jacket. Missguided white t-shirt. Warehouse faux leather skirt. Adidas Superstars trainers.

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Coffee and antique books.

An afternoon in Manchester.

When my mum visited, she came armed with a Time Out guide to the city. Me being me, had refused point blank to invest in one, instead relying on word of mouth recommendations and mcr confidential. But I'll give the guide book its dues: it does have some pretty good shouts on its books. On this day, we started off in Federal (my suggestion, get that smirking emoji out), before heading off on the recommendations of some London ponce.

We started off at the John Rylands library, which is slap bang in the middle of town, Spinningfields way. I've gone past it countless times and always thought "I should probably check that out". Of course, me being human, saying something and doing it are quite different things, and I'd never quite managed to make it inside. But, word of advice, make the effort. It is absolutely beautiful in there, and has been perfectly restored and cared for. It houses fragments of the bible which I believe is a people pleaser, but if you want a true insider tip you've gotta check out the toilets in the basement. Now I know why their slang term is throne.

We then had that awkward "it's not quite dinner time, but we sorta can't be bothered to go shopping" period of time, so we headed to another one of Time Out's recommendations: Pot Kettle Black. Now, being a sucker for a good name, I was on side from the off. Add in a good playlist and free chocolates, and I'm pretty sure I've found a new favourite. (And it's owned by two rugby players who are in there loads, if you're that way inclined.)

I don't have any photos, but after we headed to Sam's Chop House, replete with bronze statue of Lowry propping up the bar. The portions here are massive, so definitely don't expect just a tiny bite to eat, but it definitely had some old school charm to it.

I'm slowly starting to get to know Manchester (via my stomach), and I can see why so many people cite it as their favourite city. You've still got a way to go to beat Liverpool, but you're getting there. Do let me know if you've got any must-go places I need to try!

What I'm wearing:

New Look top. Warehouse skirt. Laura Ashley trench coat. Adidas Superstars (via Office).

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When Lord Farquaad went for a picnic.

Striped shirt dress: c/o Bonprix. Public Desire slingback heels. Lips are a weird mixture of a Rimmel pen lipstick thing and Lancome Juicy Shaker (give me a nudge on twitter if you want to know the exact ingredients).

You know when you overhear something, and it just 100% bangs the nail on the head? And then you wait for the exact moment in time to pass the comment off as your own, hailing as 21st century comic genius, while you're at it. Either I tend to hang around where unscouted panel show contestants spend their time, or there's a certain concentration of wit in my local haunts. My absolute all time favourite was way back when I used to spend my sixth form lunchbreaks in Topshop (where else?) and heard two girls skulking among the knitwear stating they "wouldn't pay that if it had been knitted by blind nuns". Five years on, and toppers' price point has only risen - bladdy inflation - but the vocal quirks keep coming. I spied these on Public Desire's instagram and knew they had to be mine, spurred on by both the "Lord Farquaad shoes" and "one pair of shoes closer to my rich trophy wife dream closet" comments. I may look at the shoes with heart eyed emojis, but I can't unsee those connections. Anyone fancy watching Shrek tonight?

Tangent whipped back on the straight and narrow, Laura and I decided to shoot close to home this week, and ended up finding the blue grey wall of my very boring dreams. Bonprix had set the challenge of picking an outfit for a picnic, but as Manchester's lacking in green spaces and I'm lacking in owning anything (let alone a picnic blanket) we settled for a little industrial spin on the theme. For me, Bonprix will always make me think of last-minute "oh crap, we should probably get some food before heading to le Marais" pizza stops at Châtelet les Halles, but turns out they have a massive clothing selection online - who knew?

So, while this post may not contain croissants or animated characters, I hope the above has sufficiently explained why I've gone for that blog post title. That, or I have actually lost the plot. It was only a matter of time.

PS, I know I have a lot of Liverpool readers, so if you're a student there and around next Wednesday Liverpool one are hosting a student event. Get all the details (including info about krispy kreme discount, hold me) click here.

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I just sort of always feel sick without you, baby.

Marks and Spencer blouse: £29.50 (also in white). High waisted skinny jeans: c/o Matalan. Warehouse lace up flats: £29 (sold out, similar). Lancome Juicy Shaker in "Cherry Symphony".

The windy city, we meet again. I can't vouch for Chicago's status as breezy, but I honestly think Liverpool can give that city a run for its money when it comes to hair blowing in every direction. I have one umbrella left in a bin somewhere in Spinningfields which battled gallantly with the weather, but certainly came off worse. RIP. After a Serious Text Discussion regarding what the weather's like, I settled on my newest pair of jeans and trusty old trench coat (gloriously dumped on the floor for these photos, so glam) to revisit Liverpool on one of the sunniest days of the year so far. Still windy. Still so windy.

As soon as my train pulled into Liverpool Lime Street, I headed straight off to meet Tasha and Soph for coffee at Cow & Co Cafe, a small place sheltered from the river Mersey on Cleveland Square. When it was trusted to me to make a decision on where to go (why guys, why), I had a quick search of Independent Liverpool and settled on this little place after hearing it was a good'un on Sade's recommendation. I went for a bagel with beetroot, feta and raisins (can I have 5?) and latte while the other girls went for a brownie, custard cream chocolate concoction, all of which comes highly recommended from a table of discerning eaters - and the staff didn't even moan at us for taking an unprecedented number of photos. I've never been to Cow&Co before, despite knowing someone who lived a stone's throw away, but I'd definitely give it a visit if you're in town and fancy going somewhere a little off the beaten track.

Afterwards, we headed away from town and wandered around the Liverpool Anglican Cathedral as Soph had never been. I haven't got much more to add from my last post there, but it's a pretty special place. Let's not talk about how much I wanted to go to the Cream event last night and only found out it was happening after it'd sold out. Tiny little tear being shed, right now.

To round up the day, I pulled Sade out of the library and spent a good three hours with her in the Pen Factory, because I haven't gone day drinking for a good while. We didn't manage to cross paths last time I was in Liverpool, so we had a long ol' chat about life and less big topics of conversation; is there any better way to spend a Saturday than with friends a bit of gin?

As I mentioned to pretty much everyone I met up with, it's odd to go back to Liverpool now. When I lived there, I knew it like the back of my hand. Recently it's been going through a little bit of a renaissance and there are new cafes and bars popping up all over the shop, and it's like it's a whole new city every time I step on the train. At first it made me a little sad that "my" Liverpool wasn't the one I knew, but since I've got over it started to trial the new places, I can honestly say the city is going from strength to strength.

Places photographed:

Cow&Co Cafe	Wolstenholme Square	Anglican Cathedral	Suitcases installation
15 Cleveland Square, L1	Right next to Cream, L1	St James Mt, L1	Hope Street, L1

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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.

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