Tuesday, 21 December 2010

Babe, I'm on fire.

I dreamt that after knitting Darren's blanket in full, raising it up above my head with weakened arms, it was handed over to him only to resemble little more than a crop top.

I declared myself saddened at having misjudged his height and he said "Oh, it covers my nipples and that's all I need."

Friday, 17 December 2010


Favourite thing to look forward to in Spring:

TBA ensembles like this, please.

Favourite newspaper story:

Drug felon uses religious belief in Seinfeld's 'Festivus' to procure meals twice the price/standard of average. Voila.

Favourite Dance:

Special mention to The Bad Seeds in the 'Do You Love Me?' video Darren's newly obsessed with.

Favourite poem:

Please note these are all only valid for this week due to fickle natures.

Wednesday, 15 December 2010


I put my long-planned Christmas jumper on hold to work on a blanket for boyfriend, all six foot four inches of him. It's taken a while, not least because the pattern recommended a discontinued wool dyed in Chile that was nigh-on impossible to find. I ended up having to import various balls from across the United States. It's in varying shades of browns up to golden oranges through to red. Not in stripes, but with each colour gradually brought in. (I shall photograph it properly, once it's done.) Knitting from underneath it, I'm beginning to feel like I'm being burnt alive.

It's making me want to buy some of these to go with it.

I'd phone him up and start my conversation with "I speak to thee from beneath the bonfire."

Monday, 29 November 2010


I like pretending the Arcade Fire song is about eBay purchases... that anxious longing for them to finally arrive, to be utterly as you've hoped.

Current cause:

Sunday, 28 November 2010


Found this very detailed plan in a bar on Friday and my jaw dropped to the floor.

What bars to visit, in what order, and how long to stay.... and best remind yourself to go home after it all, eh champ?

It's wall-ward amongst my gig tickets and cinema stubs for ever more.

Friday, 26 November 2010


I'm behind the times here as I only managed to watch A Single Man last night. Thwarted in all previous attempts to get my eyes in front of it, I was anticipating I'd be underwhelmed after all my waiting.

It was elegant. Strikingly so. But even more than that, it put men in angora.

That scene on the lawn made this pair look devastatingly attractive and my eye was already on the sweater. Little did I know he would wear it throughout the movie (nudity aside).

God bless you, Tom Ford.

Unsurprisingly, I now more than feel the need to make this sweater. There is no "hmm" about it; it needs to be achieved, trawling the internet this morning for a similar pattern. I always love angora sweaters in Autumn anyhow... but the boat neck, blush tone, manly cut of this one has me entirely in rapture. And set off by that check shirt too! I'll hush up, now.

Today I wear a gingham blouse under a v-neck angora as an act of homage.

Friday, 12 November 2010

Thinking of the future

I'm pretty sure when I have a kid, she'll be something like this.

For now though, I just wish to dress like one. Current covets include this dress and these mittens, from TBA and labour of love respectively.

In addition, when I'm avec Sprog, they shall certainly be wearing trousers by these guys. Absolutely incredible cut. They look like me wearing my boyfriend's clothes.

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

Rain, dear.

There's been a lot of it lately so I've been working on this.

It will either be fully fledged, a sweater vest, or a bib by Christmas Day.

I shall wear it whatever way.

Monday, 8 November 2010

I remember when you shrugged into another's skin

taking it out for a smoke.
Clogging your lungs like cheese sauce gropes cauliflower;
cloaking those wild thoughts that minds birth and stomachs harbour.

Leather slicker than your surface or the hair beneath your running palm,
it was more yours than the face you'd showed the mirror,
sucking in your cheeks lightly and holding pout like a mantle piece.

You'd barely gotten downstairs when the actual owner came collect
and I expressed myself like only a sunken potato can,
cloakroom duty to dobb you in.

You slunk up, shoulders too small for what fitted perfectly before
and cocky complacency like snow now melted
on your cuffs and collar and forehead creases.

I think of this when they say you hadn't been yourself lately.

Wednesday, 3 November 2010

"I always wanted to be a Tenenbaum." - Eli Cash

"Me too, me too." - Royal Tenenbaum.

So Nicole Richie amazingly dressed as Margot Tenenbaum for Halloween...

She must have been inspired by Chanel Autumn/Winter adverts, non?

Monday, 1 November 2010

C3PO Mark II

I'm either what he looks like when he takes his helmet off or I'm rather half arsed.

Friday, 22 October 2010

Monday, 11 October 2010

The Things You Notice

My favourites from what I've seen of the Liverpool Biennial so far are certainly Sam Knowles' beautiful binding of the galactic with found novels and wormholes through the words there, and Tehching Hsieh's One Year Performance which was staggeringly diligent.

I accidentally 'met' Tehching on a side street before the opening and as my friend was speaking to him it became clear he was incredibly well natured and with all humility intact. An inspiration all round, then.

My next stop will be to see more of the exhibitions at the CUC before November's end but - racing around before closing - it's clear that the predominately video art installation within their basement has some bloody lovely ideas.

As a closer to the weekend and in ultimately unrelated news, when did I turn into such a black widow? Was my change in hair colour the precursor or the full stop?

Thursday, 30 September 2010

The woman that ran to work to start off the day.

The bus was passing her now and there she was running in the same way as every this-time-of-day. What was it about her children that never let her leave five minutes beforehand? And it was of course a presumption that she even owned any, albeit one based on the weight her limbs carried behind her. A mother is forever walking towards a fan blowing back towards home.

Monday, 27 September 2010

Don't mistake the dark for depth.

The sky’s greyer than a smudged pencil
and it’s erased your face with the ease
of an experienced error maker.
Routinely overcast,
shadowed regularity ridding welcome familiarities
from the expression you carry in your mouth's corners;
until I can't tell if that smile's because
I'm so wrong or so very tragically right.
You may be my clouded judgment or just your own,
but whatever the weather the weather man seems a con artist.
Can you at least sit upon that leather masquerade of
a sunken tangerine sold weeks ago
and tell me if you wear dark's mask willingly?
I preferred it when it was simply
a relic on a wall from a Halloween.
If it's to blame for shackling itself to you
clinging like a shadow to an ankle,
I'll devote my days to restoration projects
until you're back to the way your doors opened.
I've always known I could make a chapel out of you.
Thinking about last summer,
you're struggling to remember why we
wrapped it carefully for the bin when through,
as told to do on gum wrapper illustrations.
I wouldn't rather it have trailed the tread of our sneaker soles
entering every home we’ve left since.
Are you not as keen on staying clean?
"My heels aren't dragging, they're caught in the carpet"
would be awfully silly last words.
Barely noticed nor thought of
that rug in your room beside the records
but now here I am on a Monday in September
wondering what you trod in beneath its tassled edges.
Tell me, are you still chewing that old gum for fun
when it’s lost all flavour?

Tuesday, 21 September 2010


Show me that a man can't have everything and I'll offer you Cohen as my argument.

Perhaps loneliness is an asset afterall.

Monday, 23 August 2010

Sweets for my sweet, woollens for my honey.

I like making a briefly held thought shared once nine months ago a stonking great reality on the sly.

Hence I secretly spent months knitting the rest of a rainbow of hats for a best boy who'd already been given a green one, with name labels (because he's forgetful) and given in a totally handsome 7'' case (because he's needed one a while).

Tuesday, 27 July 2010


I really wish I'd known about this when I visited home at the weekend: an entire exhibition dedicated to food made from yarn, 'Come Dine With Kate' by Kate Jenkins.

At least at my Dad's Birthday party, I got the bit of cake with his face.

Parties in the USA

It was worth every penny.

Wednesday, 23 June 2010


T-minus two days until I'm NYC bound. I've quit fretting and started slacking. Not done no work for ten whole minutes, and I'm saying that with a swagger or at least a failed attempt at one.

Instead of packing last night, I attached Cath Kidston fabric to my soon to be ever present camera strap lest I don't stick out enough amongst the natives. You know, God forbid I fit in.

Monday, 14 June 2010


Buried under make up, I found a list from two weeks ago that sums up what I've listened to most for the last six months.

This month so far, it's been mainly Trans Am, Clinic and Lightning Bolt: things that sound good amongst heavy traffic on the home run.

Sunday, 6 June 2010


Night of the Hunter's one of my favourite Sunday movies. I like to pretend Robert Mitchum is Monday morning chasing that pair of kids called the weekend.

In darker times, I watched this clip five times in one day.

A drunk lady took a shine to my eyes outside the chippy yesterday. Apparently I look like a drummer she once knew (thankfully female). Everyone else feigned that they were in their forties and she bought it. I daringly went for nineteen; "Aaaw, I knew it, see! Knew you was a baby."

Thursday, 3 June 2010


Made more cupcakes, mate.

Thought I couldn't really keep putting pictures up without at least one recipe, so here's how to make banana cupcakes with nutella centres and peanut butter frosting.


1 cup of plain flour

2/3 cups of caster sugar

1+1/2 tsp baking powder

Pinch of salt

1/4 cup of unsalted butter

2/3 cup of milk

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

2 large bananas


Nutella (simple.)


2/3 cup of butter

3/4 cup of peanut butter

1 tsp vanilla extract

4 cups icing sugar (sifted)

4-6 tbsps of milk


Banana chips and walnuts, crushed using a pestle and mortar.


It’s super easy.

Heat the oven to 170 degrees centigrade.

Put the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and butter into a bowl and beat with an electric whisk until all is combined and a sandy consistency’s reached.

Add the milk and vanilla extract and beat together. Then add the egg and banana, whisking until well incorporated.

Spoon into cupcake cases until 3/4 full and bake for 20-25 minutes. They’ll be lightly golden, spring back when you push ‘em with a finger yada-yada, and a skewer will come out clean.

Once you’ve taken them out and let them cool completely, you can add a little nutella to the centre before you ice them. Scoop out a little, add a teaspoon of nutella, then put the cake back like you're finishing a baby's jigsaw.

Make the icing next (fast, because you'll be hungry now) by whisking with peanut butter and butter, then add the vanilla and beat again. Gradually add the sugar a cup at a time - beat well and make sure you scrape the sides as you go. It’ll seem real dry when it’s done but just add the milk a spoonful at a time because you may not need it all. Beat until light and fluffy.

You can rewhip this icing if necessary and it’s good for piping out, so go ahead.

Then don’t go easy on the topping.

Saturday, 29 May 2010

Sex and the Pity

There was something awfully sad in overhearing a girl in the cinema foyer say "Oh, I hate to be on my own, ever! I just can't stand to be in my own company." But that only sunk in after I stifled a LOL.

Thursday, 27 May 2010

Team Meeting

Languid limb listless across lists of to do's and have not done's,
diligent delegation like a Radio Times schedule.
We're chewing pen lids instead of strawberry laces
and getting ink all over our hands.
Wrist width wrinkle of blue skyed sunlight between blinds
lends to internal laments
that it's been long since we lost a day riverside
with a shopping trolley for our transport,
80p of pocket money and a flask of strong ribena rucksacked.
Two finger salute to the flock flying south;
we'll pass a fallen sparrow for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
and flip it with a stick before the weekend.
(If Sunday night's dinner is spaghetti, you'll pale. )
I didn't listen to a word you just said
but I'm nodding.
Let's put away your breasts,
there's too much trying wedged into that cleft.
Let our desks dust
and we'll ride our bikes til our bodies brown.

Wednesday, 26 May 2010

I feel the need, the need for tweed.

This Karl Lagerfeld creation would almost make me willing to contend with helmet hair each morning.

Alas it's $1800. Boy will have to continue to fret each morning that I'm gonna come home a mangled mess of head injury and scraped knee. (I reckon I'll make it.)

Jeez, imagine if this was my last post.

Slim with the titled brim.

Brad's been ill with laryngitis so what better way to cheer her up than obesity bakery.

We used Bakerella's Snickerdoodle Duo recipe, because it's my favourite source of bakery inspiration right now. Cinnamon cupcakes, cinnamon cookie topping, meringue icing. We baked out cookies larger to resemble hats rather than stacks.
Remember: novelty first, kids.

Whilst waiting for the icing to set, Bradders did some marking.

Question: Describe a man.

Answer: "Just bust out of a mental asylum. Dancing like there's no tomorrow. Hair looks like he's been electrocuted. Having the time of his life."

We laughed til we cried, then dived gob-first into the wizard cupcake tribe. Watched the 'Hush' episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer so she wouldn't feel quite so alone in her voicelessness.

She left my house terrified.

Monday, 24 May 2010


The weather was nice enough for the first picnic of the Summer. Everything was so lovely, even though I was reading Nick Cave's The Death of Bunny Monro.

I never knew that absolutely everything is like a vagina.

Carry Me Back To My Home

Liverpool Sound City is over. Cut off the wristband and fell face first into the duvet for a day.

This is the stuff I will remember most.

Ernie Paniccioli opening the Screenadelica Exhibition was also something I'm glad not to have missed. It's nice to hear people truly believe art can be the seed of one hell of a fuck-off fruit.

Tuesday, 18 May 2010

Love, I'm your biggest fan.

Back from All Tomorrow's Parties with a little baby made from beer and burgers in my belly. I deflated faster than I can de-bloat. Someone else's make up had been all over my clean sheets and we had chalets worse than I knew existed. Lloyd said it was 'like Auschwitz' but their's had killer bunk beds so they were one up on us.

I'd been reading Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh on the way down south. 'Each of the angels carried her wings in a little black box like a violin case' in the first chapter hung tightly onto the coat tails of my imagination everytime a musician pranced past. I missed a lot of the bands due to having too good a time with the boyfriend round the corner (accidentally convenient placing of our separately booked chalets being high five worthy, most certainly). But Pavement were swell and I wish Monotonix's set hadn't been cut short, real short. I was kinda enjoying sitting cross-legged on the floor due to overzealous security measures. It felt like assembly just got good.

The following weapon has been deployed today to help me re-enter a world where I am living.