A love letter Christmas.

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Schuh over the need grey boots
River Island faux fur scarf: £28 (now £15, typical). Topshop jacket (old): £27. Luella dress (old): ebay. Over the knee boots: c/o Schuh.

It's happened again. Working in retail, we were finalising our Christmas campaign way back in June, and that Thing in the distance has suddenly clicked its fingers in my face, but instead of digits it was someone spilling mulled wine on my desk. Now it's somehow Christmas Eve, I've started making up for lost time on the mince pies (how gorgeous are these ones from Bettys?) after recovering from the Christmas party, and it'll all be festive cheer the moment it clocks 1 and we finish for the weekend.

Just a quick one from me today, as these wreath-filled photos might be a tad out of season if I wait until my normal Sunday to post, but all my love for the big day - hope you get out of it argument-free and have three times your GDA of roast potatoes! brb, eating five days worth of advent calendar chocolates.
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I had a dream I can buy my way to heaven.

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Oasis floral dress: coming soon. Karen Millen boots: £25, sample sale. Topshop bag: £25. Rotary watch: gift.

There may not be tinsel-covered jumpers and falling snow all over this blog, but it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas. A couple of weeks back, Sabby and I headed to Newbury racecourse for the Hennessey Gold Cup, and that little Berkshire town seriously knows how to make things feel seasonal. We started the day catching up with Kim and Stew on the way over, before heading to check out the races. We quickly realised that this wasn't 100% our thing (expectations: cosy drinks and a lil bit of entertainment. Reality: actual hardcore races, and people very loudly betting), so took the short walk into town for something a little quainter - including reindeer.

First things first, we stopped by a pub called Lock, Stock and Barrel, which overlooks the river Kennet. It served as the perfect cosy respite from the bitterly cold wind with fish and chips that get an A+ rating from me, and I think I miiight just have recovered from the previous day's Black Friday nightmare. We then took a wander through the town centre, made pals with the bloke above (#onthepull), and spent a little more time and money in Temptation gift shop than I care to admit, but I'm definitely not ashamed. We then travelled back to the big smoke for more festive-themed (read: camembert) activities as we met up with a few more friends to catch-up well into the night. As far as days go, they don't come much more perfect than that.
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Ever since I can remember, I was a great devourer of books.

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Barbour William Morris Ruskin Jacket. Next tie bow blouse. Oasis denim skirt: £5, sample sale. Hobbs monk shoes: £70 (similar). Marks and Spencer bag: £43. Charity shop belt: 10p.

Some things get better with age (one of those things is not hummus, trust me on that one, and *insert the sicky face emoji here*). I last visited the William Morris Gallery in Walthamstow on a school trip way back when, and it was a little crummy. However, we gave it over a decade and two house moves for it to mature, and it's a had one hell of a makeover. And it's amazing.

As Morris' teenage home, there's no better place to give homage to the development of his love for print and the arts. Obviously there's a little chunk about him growing up in Walthamstow/Woodford (with an interactive map, which prompts you to look for where you live, duh), but I really enjoyed the room which recreated his workshop, with rolls of wallpaper hung from the ceiling. Upstairs things are dedicated to his love affair with printing books and his socialist beliefs, along with a couple of temporary exhibitions. As we exited through the gift shop (and the café's fwis opportunity), I picked up Jazmine's Christmas present, and had a wander through the grounds, now Lloyd Park. I know it tends to be areas like Richmond and Hampstead to receive the good rep for pockets of green in London, but I will always be an advocate of areas a little further East.

Of course, I had to bring along my Barbour Morris print jacket, which felt just as at home here as it did back at Kelmscott Manor. Because a) theme, and b) I've been living in it since October, so was pretty difficult to remove from my back.

Hope you've all been having a good week so far - and, even if it's been crap, it's less than three weeks until the new year and a new start!
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Hey, shorty.

24th birthday candles
It's my birthday.

Sorry to interrupt transmission blogmas (as if I was actually taking part, I've just spent the last 3 hours catching up and it's only day 6), but here's a little interlude of the birthday variety - it is my 24th, after all. 23's been a bit of a weird one, really. For a lot of people, 23 seems to be a lucky number; it always seemed to be people's number of choice when buying lotto tickets, although my only connection was my form room being C23 between the ages of 11 and 17. There's no point beating around the bush, the last year hasn't been my best. I've had a fair amount of health problems (shout out to all the staff at Royal London hospital who now recognise me), stopped taking bullshit which seems to have pissed off a few people, and generally ended up isolating myself quite a bit, probably as a result of putting myself under a lot of pressure, stress and generally not being as chill as I maintain. However, it's time to kick myself up the arse a little and think of the few things which have gone well so far. And you know what that means: TIME FOR A LIST. Because when have bullet points ever not helped a situation?

  • The people I have in my life are the strongest support network. As I get older, I have less time for fair weather friends (drinking buddies, all the time in the world for, but those who only crop up when they want something need to do one), resulting in a much closer bunch of pals. Unfortunately that means I don't live anywhere near half of them (North, y u so far?), but it does mean that when I'm sat there doing a Munch crica 10pm on a Tuesday there's always someone to tell me that it will be okay.
  • Professionally things are going alright. I have my wobbles when things are getting that little bit too much, but I'm consistently meeting targets and feel like a part of the team, so that's got to account for something, right?
  • I've introduced a few features in my blog that make things a little easier for me to manage. I am vaguely interested in numbers - we all are, and you're lying if you say you're not - but I don't generally care what they mean, I just like to know what percentage of people reading my blog are from Russia. Whether it's things like adding a gif or two, or making things a little more interactive with maps so you can have a peek of where things are - they're all little steps to make sure I don't get bored, and, in turn, hopefully means you don't too.
  • In general, I'm caring less what people think of me. Obviously I have my moments of despair/apparent melodrama when one slight comment will send me off, but I have a much more laidback attitude to what comes out of people's mouths when they're angry or drunk. Now all I've got to do is work on what I think, and the negative thoughts which run through my mind. Baby steps.
  • I suppose I ought to mention my love life here as I know you lot are all a load of nosy parkers, just like I am. Obviously it's still non-existent, but I am 100% happy with that, believe it or not. It only really affects me when I'm feeling particularly vulnerable or lonely (tying into the thing where people liver far away), but on the whole tinder is something to go on when I've got an hour to kill and dating is only viable when I have literally nothing else to do (i.e. never). There are some boys who I feel sad about when I think of them, but I'll get over it.
So, here's to another year, and cake for breakfast tomorrow. Hope you're all having a lovely weekend, and things are starting to feel a little festive for you all!

Rebecca x
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Take it back and then let it go.

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I've never been that person with the Five Year Plan. When people were deciding their GCSE options based on their parents' decision to study medicine at university, I opted to go for what I enjoyed. When my past relationships have taken a "let's decide dates" turn my #goals have been a little more vague. And god help anyone who has to buy me a present because I'll definitely not be able to give you any guidance. I'm the sort of person that makes personal decisions based upon what I like, what I want, and what is fun. Right now. I'll be the first person to hold my hands up and say 'okay, I'm not thinking about kids and weddings', but I can guarantee to be your first port of call for anything happening, good or bad, big or small; I've got a few boarding passes to Paris and crumpled up receipts as physical proof.

It's getting to the time of year when people are asking me what I 'like'. It's my birthday next week, so have had a fair few queries as to what I want to do, what I'll be doing throughout the week, what presents I've got in mind, etc. I've always been one to have a fairly low key celebration, inviting a few people over for drinks before heading out (normally not remembering coming home), but this year I don't want anything. Call it odd, but I really don't want a marker of this coming of age. Having a birthday in December is tough as it is - people are busy, booking a large table has to be done months in advance, and it's really bloody cold - but this time round I've come to the conclusion that, really, it's not worth the hype at all. Maybe it's getting old (don't hate me, anyone over 27), or maybe it's just coming round to the conclusion that there are more important things to do than celebrate the passing of time.

But, if there is something I like doing, it's spending the afternoon in a country pub (The Hare in Roxwell, shown above, is a personal favourite), and generally avoiding outside life at all costs. It is, after all, the little things rather than the big displays of ostentation that count.
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Hello, I'm Rebecca: social media exec, new-ish coffee drinker and loafer-wearer.
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