It's not you, it's your eyebrows.

"It's not you, it's your eyebrows" tee: c/o Batoko. Warehouse denim skirt: £2, sample sale. Vintage leather jacket: £17. Topshop leopard print ankle boots: £27 (old). Vintage bag: gift from Jazmine.

Hey, even if I kinda look like Jake Gyllenhaal in Nightcrawler in one of these photos (guesses on a postcard/comment below), at least there's one guy who doesn't think I'm an absolute creep. 

From one place I haven't been in a while, to another: Colchester. Yes, it's got a castle. Yes, it's got a zoo. Yes, it's got a Missoula (those who know, know their jaegerbombs). What's not to like? Being just a liiiitle bit too far the "wrong" way along the A12 to permit frequent visits, it's been a fair while since I went there - for a roller disco, no less. My mum can take or leave it, but I got a pretty good vibe from the town. The beautiful rose-lined Castle park obviously called to me, and a shout out to the amazing charity shops too, but it was the labyrinthine streets of somewhere "out of town" that piqued my interest - probably more than is to be expected from someone who knows the nooks and crannies of the City like the back of her hand. And with one of my best friends heading here to study come Autumn, it looks like I'll heading back sooner rather than later: score.

On a side note: I've found THE t-shirt to ward people off when my withering glance just isn't enough. Finally.

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I want desire.

Luella blouse: ebay. Vintage suede skirt: £8, charity shop. Laura Ashley trench coat. Adidas Spezial: £29, Freeport Braintree. Rotary watch. Rimmel Kate Moss 08 lipstick.

It's always a bit weird to revisit things. I'm not talking an ex-boyfriend here (bye means bye, okay?), I'm talking places. I grew up in Woodford, which is best explained as 'on the east bit of the Central line', and, despite heading back to Loughton every six months to go to the dentist, I hadn't really been back since we upped sticks and headed way out 'so far past zone nine you can't even use an oyster card' in 2003. For the first time in over a decade, my mum and I popped back down the M11 to have a little wander along memory lane. It's a bit like heading back to a club you frequented in freshers week - things are a bit hazy, but you know where the toilet is and vaguely recognise that booth.

In case you're not aware (you probably aren't, half the people I live with now haven't heard of Redbridge, let alone know it's in the same county), if you look at London on Google maps and see the reservoirs just north of Central, I'm talking a little bit east of there. We started off the day in Highams Park, by far my favourite of all the places in that little bit of the London-Essex border. There aren't many places I can see myself settling down (this is what moving all over the place does to a girl...), but there is something about this area which gives me complete chilled out vibes, and I would definitely move in without a second thought were it not so bloody expensive to live there. London housing woes aside, we walked past my mum's first flat, through the Park, past my childhood home, and round Woodford Green back to the car. We then popped over to Loughton for dinner before heading up into Epping Forest a little to take these photos. Oh, wisteria, how I miss you already.

Are there any little pockets of London you love to re-visit? I'm always on the lookout for more places to fall in love with!

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Glastonbury festival 2015.

Well, what do you know, my resolution to use disposable cameras more this year has resulted in this one getting developed - baby steps. Normally a bit of a mish mash, this disposable camera photos post has a bit of a theme and, in case you hadn't noticed, it's what Lionel Richie calls "GLASTONBERRY" (sic).

From the "lasstonbury" whatsapp group to the £20 Argos tent (IT SURVIVED), you could say our preparation was somewhat minimal. Turning up to Greenwich coach park to see others with six bags of camping gear rather than our own six bags of cereal bars and cloudy lemonade was a half "maybe we should've planned this" half "we just don't want to carry much/we're going back to basics/we've totally got this" moment, but it didn't half make the journey back easier. Fast forward a few hours (wish I could've), we were wristbanded and pitching camp in one of the quieter areas before heading into the arena to explore a little. I know people say this every time and I scoffed right back at them every time (feel free to reply "...nah", I understand), but Glastonbury festival is huge. That first evening was spent entirely trying to work out where the hell Avalon was, and we were still discovering new areas right up until Sunday.

I won't bore you with a play-by-play rendition of every act I saw (that's for the NME to make up), but let's just say Patti Smith is queen, the Who are top blokes, Josh Modestep has my heart, La Roux is the Ziggy to my Stardust, Kanye's a bit of a knob, and Lionel Richie is really, really smiley. Heading back to the land of liquid soap was equal parts hallelujah and take me back, because no matter how many times you can use your hot cloth cleanser there's nothing quite like standing in the middle of an english field with thousands of other people raising a toast for the scumbags.

Of course, the million dollar question: would I go again? It wasn't all 23° and perfect conditions 24/7 making for some miserable poncho moments, but given the opportunity, how could I not? When you're sat on top of the world in the Park, there's really nothing more magical.

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