Birmingham's Christmas Markets.

Last Saturday I hopped on a train heading South, and, when it terminated in Birmingham, I packed my copy of "The Wrongs of Woman" firmly in my bag till the homeward journey. Once out of the station, I met Eloise, Claire, Emma, Kim, Becca, Maria, and Victoria, to have a quick coffee catch-up, Nando's (fyi, I had a medium halloumi and mushroom wrap, chips, and macho peas), and a mooch around the shops. We then, of course, had a look round the christmas markets, which involved scary amounts of nutcrackers and winter Pimm's! Armed with their DSLRs, and my ever faithful point and shoot, we had a quick opportunity for outfit photos, and Eloise took some of me, despite my protestations that no one would want to see an outfit they'd seen countless times before. But, you know, you don't have a willing photographer every day! I can't wait for the christmas markets to open in Liverpool, anyone for glühwein?

Also, I set up a blog shop (which I'll be adding to as and when I have the time), so if you could have a look I'd really appreciate it!

xxx

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Slip inside the eye of your mind.

Camel coat: £10, Marks and Spencer via charity shop. Tartan scarf: £8, ebay. Peter pan collar dress: Urban Outfitters. Thigh high socks: asos. Boots: c/o Stylistpick. Cameo necklace: £1.50, vintage via charity shop. Watch: Rotary.

It's getting to that time of year when sunlight is scarce, and your daylight hours are spent huddled underneath your bodyweight in clothing as you hurry between destinations, exposed skin burning in the cold. Unfortunately, this situation isn't conducive to the sharpest of images, and neither was the rain splattering on the pavement (and my head!).

For now, I'm sitting on the sofa with my flatmate watching Children in Need and eating lots of heartwarming food - it sure is nice to not be staring at word documents for a few hours. Time to bring my duvet in from my room and crack out the chocolate, I reckon.

xxx

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Remembrance.

Camel coat: £10, Marks and Spencer via charity shop. Tartan scarf: £8, ebay. Hat: £10, vintage via Cambridge vintage fair. Black blouse: £1.50, vintage Next via charity shop. Checked skirt: Laura Lees for Topshop (old!). Leather belt: 20p, charity shop. Black satchel: £16, Internaçionale. Chelsea boots: c/o Stylistpick.

Remembrance

noun

The memory of a person who has died or a thing of the past surviving in the minds of others.

I went home for a few days over reading week, and traipsing round the suburban town couldn't help but make me reflect on the past few years I've lived there. I never thought there would ever be a time when I could call Liverpool "home", but treading paths oft walked made me realise to what extent I've outgrown the town I've spent the past nine years of my life, and the way it contrasts with its northern counterpart. I adore Essex; the green spaces, roofs climbed, pubs frequented, and barmen befriended combine to create a place that acutely displays my teenage years, yet there's still a distinct difference. It will always be home, but the initial action of getting out, despite its difficulties, shows just how beneficial change can be.

That, or I've been reading too many Romantic landscape novels about fits of sensibility and gesture. Whatever.

In regards to the title of the post (and the horrifically pretentious English student-ness of the vocabulary tag), it is, of course, Remembrance Sunday. After meeting some Americans last week who asked why everyone was wearing "those flowers", it made me wonder how much the poppy has become an institution in itself; perhaps a motif as opposed to a symbol. Natalie wrote a genuinely interesting article about its purpose, which is worth a read. Two minutes a year is all it takes to remember the past, and it would be a true mistake to forget.

xxx

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