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
