 WARNING: This post may (does) contain shameless RuPaul's Drag Race references. Figuring out what you want to be when you grow up is hard. Like childbirth hard. At age 5 you can answer the question effortlessly (a cleaner (true story)), at age 10 you’ve matured in your tastes (Screen Goddess), by 16 you’re confident (after all, you picked your university degree... Business Woman Extraordinaire), at 19 you’re questioning your degree entirely and by 21 you just want to get the bloody thing finished - zero shits given to the topic. By 25 you’re genuinely shocked you’re not yet CEO of a global conglomerate and at 27 you’re aware of being groomed for the hazy, soulless abyss of meaningless middle management. At 29 you realise everyone around you hates their job as much as you do and at 31 you’re so disenfranchised you quit the whole bloody mess to start an Etsy shop hand sewing wedding ring pillows.
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 People who write blogs seem to be in the lofty position of giving advice: "9 tips for..." "7 ways to..." "28.63 things you must..." When it comes to dog rearing, my position is the antithesis of 'lofty'. I'm not even on ground level. 'Mordor' feels like a conservative estimation. It goes without saying - I bloody love my dog. I actually can't (and don't want to) imagine my life without her. But sitting here, drinking the world's largest vat of tea - purely for medicinal reasons - after being unable to remove Hettie from the plastic Tesco ham container she proceeded to lick clean before tearing into tiny strips, ingesting each and every one (did I mention that I was calling her name, offering her treats and pathetically attempting to catch her in full view of all Kelvingrove Park patrons while she destructed the container over a 15 minute period?), I thought I would take a moment to share - not tips - but truths of dog parenting as I know them.
 The jury's in, you crazy kids LOVE a Vintage Style Challenge as much as I do. This isn't just another one of those run-of-the-mill 'match made in heaven' scenarios. Nuh-ah. This is the kind of match that's been dipped in awesome, covered in chocolate buttons and vomited on by unicorns wearing replicas of Audrey Hepburn's 1954 Oscars gown. While I hadn't expected to take on another style challenge so soon, when my plan for a ladies morning tea at my all time favourite vintage store (located a mere 300 miles from home) in Nottingham exploded with the news of a Judy's Vintage Fair (nay, that's Judy's AFFORDABLE Vintage Fair, to be precise) on the very same day... it would have been rude not to take up Challenge #2. Team, you know the rules: 3 hours. £30. Wildly unnecessary pauses for carb-loaded snacks. Gratuitous photographs of my watch. GO!
 Skill level: Beginner |
The detail...A big dollop of love from my finger tips to your screen (I promise that's not as creepy as it sounds). xx Categories
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