Little illusion machine.

Blouse: gift, French Connection. Pencil skirt: £1.50, charity shop. Nude heels: £75, Christian Louboutin, via charity shop. Necklace: gift, Links of London. Watch: gift, Rotary. Lipstick: Gabrielle, Chanel. Nails: Dragon, Chanel.

You're now reading the blog of Rebecca Cohen, BA (Hons)! On Thursday I went to the robing room (yep) to collect this bad boy, and found myself sitting in the Philharmonic ready for my few seconds on stage to collect that little bit of paper that sums up three years of hard work. Sitting alongside some of the most talented people I know, the hall was filled with proud friends and family congratulating their gowned companions, and my hands were more than a little sore after about three hours of solid applause. After the ceremony had finished, without any literal slip ups which I'd been worrying about happening for months, my mum and I managed to grab a few outfit snaps on Abercromby Square - the location of the English offices, just outside the Sydney Jones Library. Of course my friends and I had to grab a couple of typical throwing our mortar boards in the air photos before splitting up to meet our families for food (I went to one of my favourite independent restaurants, The Quarter, for a vegetarian sharing board, and prawn and chorizo pasta). That evening we checked into a budget hotel (the less said about that the better) to prep for our last night out together as students. Suitable amounts of jägerbombs and egg fried rice later, we were ready to collapse. Groggy the next morning, it was sad to pack up all our belongings and wish each other a temporary goodbye, but it feels pretty darn fantastic to have graduated in such good company.

Best of luck to everyone else who's graduating (or has graduated!) in the next few weeks - congratulations!

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Life's never easy it keeps you guessing as you go.

Leather jacket: The Kooples. Breton: £7, H+M. Joni jeans: £32.40, Topshop. Bally bag: £9.80, vintage shop. Bally boots: £8, charity shop. Necklace: New Look (old). Lipstick: Topshop Mischief.

Despite London's many cafés, there's always going to be a favourite or few of your own. One of my preferred places to rock up to for a smoothie is The Breakfast Club, and Jazmine, Camilla, and I headed to the Spitalfields branch for enough pancakes and french toast to fill even our rumbling tummies. We must've looked an odd bunch, Camilla lookin' cool in white, Jazmine girly in a pink pinafore, and me being, well me, in a striped top and leather jacket, but I couldn't have picked a better bunch to chat over (soon clean) plates with, before heading to Blitz for a quick wander through the rails.

Sorry if you've noticed my slow down in posting over the past couple of weeks, things have been a little hectic here, what with catching up with everyone, a few birthdays, trips to Paris, Isle of Wight, and London, and maybe a frappucino too many. But come Wednesday I'll be speeding my way up to Liverpool for the last time, ready to take the most important outfit photos of my life. Because that's what graduation's all about, isn't it? For the inevitable gown cape selfie, I'll be sharing a few photos on my instagram, so feel free to live vicariously through that.

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A dream is a wish your heart makes.

Blouse: gift, French Connection. Skirt: £33, Luella, via ebay. Belt: 20p, charity shop. Shoes: 50p, Russell and Bromley, via ebay.

It wouldn't be a twenty-first without acting like a child, would it? Sabby bounded onto the RER A with me, Sophie, Tom, and Brad in tow, and, as we wound our way East, the train slowly filled with little ones, each of us heading to Disneyland Paris. A weird mixture of food and stomach-churning rides (my ten and twenty-first year old self's dream combination), the day was spent wandering between the two parks, bringing back memories from when I went on a surprise trip a whole twelve years ago. Now I'm tall enough to go on Space Mountain and Tower of Terror (twice), and it certainly hasn't lost its magic.

We ended the day sitting by the side of the castle, watching Disney Dreams. It was slightly different to the bonfire night celebrations of November (namely that I wasn't in about three coats), but we were all still clutching our hot chocolates as we watched the spectacle unfold. By the time we got back to our room, we decided it probably wasn't a good idea to go out, particularly as we'd missed the last metro, so instead made ourselves a pasta box or five, and settled down before heading home via St Pancras the next day.

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You can't just give it away like it means nothing.

Blouse: gift, Hobbs. Skirt: £1.50, Jigsaw via charity shop. Denim jacket: £63, Hobbs. Belt: 20p, charity shop. Bag: £3, charity shop. Shoes: 50p, Russell and Bromley via charity shop. 

Gem recommended I head to Le Marais if I had time, and with my favourite falafel vendor residing there (sorry 3am Camden van, you serve your purpose, but it's just not the same) it was hardly a push to get the metro to Hôtel de Ville and sample that chickpea goodness at L'as du Fallafel again (check out my very happy face in the last photo). Whilst in the area, we also headed to Kilo Shop, one of Paris' vintage shops that sells its wares based on how much it weighs. Unfortunately I left empty handed, but Sabby picked up another belt for her collection. When trying to find a London comparison to the area, the closest I can think of is soho, with bars residing next to cafés, then boutiques such as The Kooples and Sandro happily nestled alongside; it's the kind of place where you're bound to find something worthwhile if you just keep meandering up and down its connected streets, but our feet were getting a little tired, so we headed back to cité université for a bite to eat before heading to Le Poulailler.

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When the music's over.

Midi dress: £13, Primark. Belt: 20p, charity shop. Necklace: Sabby's. Shoes: 50p, Russell and Bromley via ebay. Bag: £3, charity shop.

Bon soir!

My whirlwind trip to Paris feels like a lifetime ago, even though I only came back on Tuesday. For Sabby's twenty-first, we headed to the Continent where she's been studying for the past few months as part of her course. I visited last December, but this time a whole cohort of us ended up jumping on the Eurostar to wish this girl a happy birthday. This time it was certainly a lot hotter (no need for fur hats), so I whipped out my only midi for a wander to the twentieth arrondissement. 

Before the rest of our sorry lot turned up, Sabby and I visited Père Lachaise. Admittedly not the jolliest location for a day trip, but I've always wanted to pay my dues to a certain Mr Wilde (thanks for the 2:1!), as well as Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, Balzac, et al. Thankfully the sunshine took the edge off the dreary occasion, and we could wander the wiggly pathways without too much trouble, before heading to a café for mojitos, just in time to avoid the sudden downpour. We did, however, have to brave it to pick up Biggs from Gare du Nord, so I can only apologise for the wild hair in my outfit photos. Unlike my local club, there aren't pay-per-minute straighteners on parisian street corners.

For dinner we headed to Blend on Olivia's recommendation and, in short, it was good. Very good. We got there just before it opened at 7, and were worried as we were the only diners. Give it ten minutes, and we were glad to have got there, as a queue had formed, and we were able to stalk (or roll) past the rumbling bellies, full with burger and chips. 

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