Photo: Sonia Rykiel fall 2011, courtesy of The Cherry Blossom Girl

I spent a long while today making a present for a friend's birthday today. Patti Smith was my soundtrack to my labours, an album recommended to me by a friend. There wasn't anyone else in the room while my oil pastel smudged fingers shaded the various areas of the page, but I was still unwittingly surrounded by their influence.

I was having a discussion earlier about whether friends are worth it. He was saying that he doubted he'd keep in touch with anyone when he moved on to university in September. Maybe one, maybe two, but he wouldn't really make that much of an effort to try and retain the closeness that he'd built up over the past seven years. I wondered if I was an exception to this rule, or if I were just another person who was an annoyance in his day to day life.

To me, friends are inextricable from me. So what if sometimes they're annoying? They are integral to my progression, they make me happy, they make me sad, they anger me, and I've cried myself to sleep over them. Songs remind me of them, and my walls are littered with photos of us.

The photo below was sent to me by one. I have no idea where it's from. All I know is that it's saved as "me and jo". I think that's all I really need to know about it.



The reason why I don't write much in each blog post is because I'm a boring person really.
There isn't exactly anything new when it comes to learning about my life.
Here are some insipid facts that make me "me":
  • I am currently studying English Literature, History, Art, German and Russian, and often leave the latter's lesson in a state of disarray and incertitude.
  • I find it very difficult to talk about myself.
  • I am deemed to be "baggage"
  • I currently have someone else's passport next to me.
  • I cut off the circulation to my toes earlier this evening in the name of "art", and couldn't walk for about 15 minutes.
  • I would give anything to have an eight day week (no Beatles reference intended) so that I can attempt to heal friendships.
On a slightly different note, I had an argument with one of my friends earlier. She's immature, stubborn, spoilt, sheltered, and vacuous. She refuses to believe that others may not want to do what she wants all the time, and she stamps her slipper-socked foot in fury, and her hair emanates in red waves from her head as she storms off, swinging herself from side to side, in an attempt to make as dramatic an effect as possible, forgetting that after a silence of two days she'll inevitably forget and start venting her problems through me again.
And I'll let her, even though I know that she's all of these things.
Because she's my friend.
I think I'm scared of letting go of the past.


Cats and Dogs reminded me that it's Pi day today (and like her I can't help but think why it's necessary for people to make 14/3 a day dedicated to that little symbol, especially when in England we don't even put the words round in the order for it to make sense. Syntax, I guess.)

Anyway, here are three women:


And I would upload a Luella print from a London Underground poster during last year's LFW, but Blogger is being a bitch. Guess the effort makes up the extra .14 though.
Hello, I'm Rebecca: social media exec, new-ish coffee drinker and loafer-wearer.
Want to get in touch? Email me.
Want to find out more? Read my about me.



Blog Archive

Follow by Email

Powered by Blogger.