Twas the nights before Christmas, when all through the house, everyone was admitting, they didn’t have a blady clue what to buy each other. I know how you feel kids. From Black Friday to Panic Saturday, the stress free Christmas shopping window has passed us and now we’re left with scraps worth of days to buy for the other third of the family that we forgot in the initial rounds of purchases. Some people are super easy to buy for- I bought my Dad the first personalised print I could find on Not On The High Street for under £12.99- but when it comes to my friends I am clueless. It’s like, I know you super well for the other 11 months of the year but when it comes to Christmas your minds are unhackable. image

Me: What do you want for Christmas?

*insert vaguely posh three syllable name*: Oh, I don’t want anything

If we’ve been friends long enough to get to the elite present-giving stage, I am clearly not going to get you a box of air- regardless of how adamant you are. In order to solve this rather sticky situation, I have devised a feminist gift guide, so you’ll end up buying your femmy friends something fabulous this festive season. Unless of course they’re not feminists (in which case why haven’t you thrown photos of Emma Watson at them until they diffuse into their blood stream?) Here are some ideas for last minute Feminifting this Christmas: Continue reading


Feeling the Liebster Love

Teamales! I’ve missed you- I was totally enjoying college until the part where they tell you you’re failing at English even though English is literaturely (I’m punning through the tears) the only thing you know how to do so half an hour crying, another hour talking through your life choices with some custard creams and an emotional text chat with Saoirse later I am finally glad to be writing for the people that matter again. You crazy kids. Thanks for sticking around, I’m probably way too introverted in my gratitude, but I really really mean it. Thank you for reading my nonsense.

And some people have gone the step further and nominated that nonsense for a Liebster Award! I’ve collected three (bit of a Liebster whore I know), picked my favourite questions and put them in a jumbo jet of post- so I can inflate my ego in one night instead of boring you for three. Firstly, thank you to Sophie the journalism star I met at Heat magazine that seems to have the coolest social life/wardrobe/selfie skills https://sophieellenthomas.wordpress.com/ Kelly who I still can’t believe cut all her hair off for charity(!) https://velvetandvibranium.wordpress.com/ and Peach & Kuma my favourite blogging duo (mainly because there is SO MUCH CAKE on their Instagram) http://theclosetplebeians.com/

Here are some pics of 1D to spice things up a bit

Here are some pics of 1D to spice things up a bit

Continue reading

What To Expect When You’re Expecting To Be Found

When it comes to blogging, youtubing (because I like to invent verbs), vlogging and other regretfully Zoella- inspired activities, there is only one outcome: people will find you. And sadly by that I don’t mean international recognition and 2 million followers on Twitter. No, when you start blogging- just like when you join Facebook- all the friends you haven’t seen since 2005 come crawling out the wormholes in the woodwork to judge you and your creation. But mainly just you.

So seeing as most people reading this will be bloggers, except from you Rosie Bayliss who’s just a creepy eco stalker, I thought we could discuss the thing that even the bearers of the biggest blogger vanities fear: being found. Cosmopolitman

Phase 1: Why is no one following me?

So you’ve picked your domain name, chosen your theme (which will probably be the Sela one let’s be realistic here my fellow WordPressers) and written your first post, written your second post, written your third- it’s then that you realise no one is reading them. This doesn’t mean they’re rubbish pieces of writing, although if it’s in your archives it probably will be, it just means people can’t find you. And in your bewildered naivety, you think this is a bad thing. Continue reading

Victoria’s Worst Kept Secret

It wasn’t until I took my German exchange student to London last year (shoutout to Marie-Jeanne) that I realised how much of a big deal Victoria’s Secret is. Such a big deal in fact, that despite all the incredibly exciting things you can see in London ie. Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, the Gherkin, MJ decided to spend three hours looking at kinky pants to take home for her friends and family- no questions asked- because apparently there’s no Vicky C’s in Germany and that is such a tragedy. Now if I’m completely honest I probably didn’t go in there with an open mind; we’ve all heard the stories of VS Upon arrival(for all those acronym fans amongst you) models, otherwise known as ‘angels’, going on cotton wool diets and renting rooms at their local gyms just to stay skinny but I was sure I would’ve been able to ignore those rumours if the shop had a body positive atmosphere that I’d just missed amongst its promotion.


Seriously, when I first entered the New Bond Street store- which is probably more the size of a small country than a shop- I was excited to discover a place where women would unite over the inconvenience of needing a bra. Where mums would take their daughters to make boobs seem a little less daunting. Where people would be measured casually in the middle of the shop floor, because who cares? It’s all women here. I had really high hopes. Continue reading