A leather jacket I ordered arrived in the post today and I'm not sure how I feel about it. It's currently on the end of my bed half in the plastic it came in and half on the tissue paper that was used to wrap it. I think the dilemma is more because once I put the jacket on I realised I didn't look like Bella Hadid as opposed to the issue coming from the jacket itself, which has committed no fault. I bought it in a size 10 under the guise that it would be slightly bigger than me so I could wear hoodies and jumpers underneath it in winter. This isn't the case and the shape is slightly more fitted than I was hoping for. My flatmate Jules has assured me that this is because I've never worn a leather jacket before, so I took a nap in the afternoon and tried it on again afterwards. The feeling remains.
Outerwear, for me, has always been a struggle. I have a long wool coat that fits too tightly under the armpits, an XL puffer jacket that looks like someone has jumped on it and a slightly oversized suede piece from Carharrt that I'm either in love or completely loathe, day dependent. I can never hit the fit perfectly. I blame this on my own laziness, which predates Coronavirus, and meant that I told myself that I never had time to go instore to try anything on. Number one: why would I ever do that when I can shop online? That's it, that's the line of excuses and now my own stupidity has led me to become the proud owner of three (I'm not including the leather jacket yet as she has one sleeve on the returns pile) ill-fitting pieces of outerwear.
A rule of thumb to use when measuring the effectiveness and functionality of outerwear is its ability to withstand layering, and by that I mean, can you wear multiple items underneath said jacket in the winter and the piece still hold up? This is pretty much the only thing I look for when buying a coat. I'm talking a turtle neck, a t-shirt, a hoodie, a scarf, gloves and finally, the jacket on top to complete that day's fashion pièce de résistance. This leather jacket I have purchased is not really like that and has the feel and shape of a shirt, but I will take you through some positive points: the leather is very soft, it hangs nicely and has a popper close down the front which I like. I will even dare to say that this jacket COULD be worn without a top underneath, but I will never do that.
Before I carefully refolded the leather jacket to put back into its original packaging (does anyone else do this to make it look like they never opened the parcel when it gets back to the depot? No? Just me, okay) I FaceTimed with my friend in LA to get her verdict. I jumped into a pair of black jeans that just about fit me and tried to work the jacket with a cropped turtle neck. This was not the look. Next, I grabbed a black satin dress from my wardrobe and tried it with a pair of strappy mules I have. I was so pleased with this outfit that I became immediately sad that I was single/would never feel bold enough to wear this outside/had absolutely nowhere to go.
I'm keeping the jacket based on this one epic outfit.
Other bits:
I've finally bought a workout mat after doing stretches and press-ups against a wooden floor. My knee is in excruciating pain and I do not recommend this.
I made my own mango ice cream and I cannot/will not shut up about it.
Happy Friday, I'm going to have some wine now
Lauren x
I cried so hard at an episode of The Walking Dead the other night that I started to have a nosebleed. Sat on our cream sofa dressed in all white, what I thought was just a main character death fuelled breakdown was, in fact, an overheated outpouring of pent up emotion, with a side serving of nasal bleeding. Shuffling around with a fresh stain on my shirt, Jules disappeared to get her Vanish spray as I continued to cry while failing to break off a piece of leftover Dairy Milk bar that was too cold from the fridge.
I definitely had it in me to cry harder, knowing that my tears were caused 30% by what I was watching, 5% by the timing of my hormones, 2% because of the pizza I tried to make from scratch three times and 63% by my deep-rooted and unmanaged psychological pain that I express on rare, special occasions much to my own embarrassment and awkward shock of the people around me. With snot also running down my face (what? I'm an ugly crier), the scene changed and I was able to collect myself just in time before agreeing to another episode.
Later in the evening, and tired from my outburst, I left the washing machine to run so I could ensure the stain would come out of my t-shirt (top tip: don’t run the washing machine at midnight in a block of flats). Lying down to stare at the ceiling I started to feel bad (and stupid) that I had cried so much at a fictional character’s death. My knee-jerk reaction was to apologise to Jules immediately “I’m sorry, this rarely happens, this is why I shouldn’t drink, I’m really sorry, God this is so embarrassing, don’t look at me” as I stuffed more tissue up my nose to stop the bleeding. In recent years I have banished myself to the land of 'no crying unless absolutely necessary', choosing to leave my exile and express emotion to the unfortunate group of people closest to me (both in proximity and relation). It makes me feel excruciatingly vulnerable and I hate it, I really, really hate it; sometimes I can go weeks or months without even shedding a single tear.
Sporadic occasions I have cried and regretted it:
1. I was having a difficult conversation while sat outside with someone and a stranger walked over to tell me they liked my top, asking where I’d bought it from and if it was even a top or just a very short dress.
2. I shut myself in a room (it had glass walls so it wasn’t a good idea) at work and I started to cry (I knew it was coming so I took myself away) and someone came into the room to the repair the door lock.
3. On a train reading an emotional chapter of a book (I regret every single time I’ve cried on public transport because if people do notice, they only look at you in total horror)
4. Walking through Oxford Circus listening to I’ll Be Seeing you by Jimmy Durante (this was a bad day).
Anyway, so there I was wailing on the sofa having a nosebleed as I tried to expunge my store of February, March and April tears into yet another pint of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream when I realised I was hurting. I was hurting badly. I know I apologised profusely to my flatmate and later regretted even crying in the first place, but when I was later lying in bed I was trying to work out why I felt so ashamed, or so bad. What was the takeaway? What was I doing? Why was I bothered? Who even am I? What do I do with the pain? Why is it so bad to cry? Truthfully, my tears stem from a place of ~intense~ grief, both from physical and metaphorical loss (if that makes sense) that I'll never be able to fix or remedy. Sometimes the combination of an emotional TV show, that time of the month and painful memories blend together in perfect destructive harmony and I have no choice but to cry.
As it cannot be helped I'm going to provide you with some tried and proven tips that I hope come in handy if you ever find yourself crying in public:
1. Try and cry near people you like because then you won't feel so bad afterwards. For some reason crying around people you don't like makes it worse? Does it? It does.
2. See if you can let it go in one giant dry heave instead of several sobs that might ruin your make up.
3. If you don't want to say why you're really crying, lie. What do you owe people? Nothing.
4. Buy a hot chocolate from Pret (or your nearest favourite coffee shop) immediately afterwards.
5. Buy yourself something nice if it has been a big cry
6. Drink some water to replenish what was lost
7. Call your parents
8. If somebody has made you cry, never ever speak to them again, unless it was happy tears.
9. If you're on public transport a) pretend it's hayfever/a light allergy b) look out the window until you reach your stop and don't make eye contact with anyone
10. Remember it feels good to cry! For a short time - then you'll feel horribly embarrassed as your damp tears steep you in regret and everything feels worse again.
What a ride! Until the next one!
Lauren x
I’ve been tasked with writing this week’s family FaceTime quiz but have so far spent the day in bed reading a murder mystery book that I thought would be in a smaller font. It's a slow burn and now I'm weighing up the pros and cons of going outside for a long walk around the city to contemplate my existence. Pros: it's nice weather today, I can pick up some food, probably get more Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and it'll give me something to do, cons: it feels like the population of London has given up on social distancing and queuing for the supermarket is my least favourite thing to do out of all my extracurricular activities. I didn't go outside yesterday and it's one of my biggest regrets in the last 24 hours. I hurt my neck and back carrying too much back from a Tesco in a flimsy tote bag so I've also taken a mini-break from the excessive crunches and squats I was doing in the living room. I feel very sluggish. I might buy a skipping rope.
(My older brother was the last quizmaster and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to compete. He'd photoshopped his face over Stephen Fry's on every other slide like we were in an episode of QI and I don't possess the time or energy to do that. I will, however, make every slide millennial pink so that it feels like a Glossier sponsored family quiz).
I don't know about you but I've found the past two weeks annoyingly hard and its truly reached the point where the days have all mashed together in one horrific Walking Dead fuelled blur. There's no longer the dread of Sunday night turning into Monday morning and then waking up on Tuesday knowing that it's only Tuesday. But there's also no Thursday-Oh-My-God-Friday-is-coming feeling. No Saturday morning breakfast treats. No fuck it! let's get extra sides at dinner and a trio of desserts to share after. (Yes, I know you can get Deliveroo but we all know it's not the same). The highlight of my days, if I don't go outside, is baking something. Yesterday it was banana bread with chocolate chips - though the chocolate chips were all sold out so really it was just banana bread and chocolate chunks where I'd improvised and sliced up a packet of Dairy Milk. I'm a chef now. The other day I made tiramisu for the first time, and by made I mean the whole shebang. Like, literally the whole thing. I wanted to get ladyfingers from Tesco but that was a nonstarter; I tried to go back to the cake section to triple check but you can't go back in supermarkets anymore, you have to follow the arrows like in IKEA. Anyway, ladyfinger-less (???) I decided to make my own using up what little flour we had left and about 50 eggs that I failed to split yolk and white from which I then whisked together in a saucepan because it was the biggest 'bowl' we had. The end result wasn't horrific and it was really satisfying to make something from start to finish like that.
(I accidentally added a WHOLE cup of sugar to the cream, don't do that, read the recipe AND we don't have any measuring spoons here so when it says cup I was using a small coffee cup)
Other bits:
1. Jules and I have now successfully moved onto Season Eight of the Walking Dead after I recovered from the death of one of my favourite characters. I can't believe we're nearly at season 10 and we have committed ourselves solidly to a show like this. What are we going to do afterwards? She said we'll just watch another show, but what will it be? So many unanswered questions.
2. BIG NEWS, Honest Burger in London is back on Deliveroo - they do the best vegan burgers I've ever had and even though securing a Deliveroo slot with them is a myth I am so happy for their return.
3. The Glossier Hand Cream doesn't give me a rash!
Okay, I'm going outside now listening to this.
BYE
Lauren x
Glossier Hand Cream £16
In the COVID-19 era of ritualistically applying hand cream, it feels apt that millennial superstar brand Glossier have now launched their own as an answer to the question I never knew I was asking. Throwing it all the way back to six weeks ago (#memories) when getting moisturisers, hand sanitiser and general hygiene products briefly became a myth, the geniuses behind Boy Brow and Balm Dotcom were cooking up the next highly sought after pink item for your beauty cabinet. A sucker for literally all their products (bar the ones that give me terrible spots on my forehead and make my skin burn) I’m excited to add Glossier’s new hand cream to my roster.
(Just a brief pause. Can anyone really tell the difference between faux leather jackets and real leather jackets? Besides the price. I’ve canvassed everyone I know about this and have come to no conclusion. I annoy myself).
Packaging:
Receiving any item in the post from Glossier is an uplifting experience. From the branded tape used to seal the box to the free sticker inside that I will later apply to my laptop to let people know that I know that they know that I know about Glossier. I also love the ziplock bags and have one in every size.
The Hand Cream packaging:
I feel that Glossier always do really well on the individual wrapping of their products, so much so that I tend to keep the empty boxes (admitting that now feels stupid, I’m sorry). Luckily, the hand cream is no exception and comes in a papery sealed bag reminiscent of a prescription from a pharmacy (in a good way??). The bottle itself is a silhouette I’ve never really seen before - a bit like suncream maybe. Jules agrees. It comfortably sits in the palm of my hand and I like that it’s embossed with the brand’s logo all the way around.
THE ACTUAL HAND CREAM:
Trialling the hand cream right now, Jules and I went with a pea-sized amount each and discovered that a little goes a long way. You squeeze the bottle and the product comes out quite slowly and in ribbons due to the shape of the lid. It’s slightly greasy to begin with and you can still feel it on your hands 10 minutes later which is the only partial letdown. The mild scent of Glossier’s You perfume is a nice addition and smells a bit different to the body fragrance (due to the "emphasis on fresh, clean notes").
Overall:
I’ve noticed people say in reviews online that they would like this hand cream to be reusable and I definitely agree with that. Maybe some kind of refill you could buy would be great. Also, after wearing the hand cream for about 20 minutes I have to say that my hands are super soft which, with flakey and peeling knuckles due to washing them 100 times a day, is a nice relief.
Would I recommend this product? Yeah, I mean, why not? It’s a fun thing to own and it’s always nice to have products from brands you really like. TREAT URSELF. I'll update my blog if I notice any sort of rash/allergic reaction.
Coming back several hours later to add that my hands are still soft!1!!!!!11 Magical.
Other bits:
I'm thinking about cutting my own hair, specifically a fringe. It's going to be at least two months until I see a hairdresser and if I do it now, it'll have grown by then and they can fix it if I do a botch job.
I might make tiramisu this week, stay tuned.
Okay that's it I'm done.
Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,
Lauren x
Last night I walked out on season seven episode one of The Walking Dead after spending the first 15 minutes with my head in my hood and my fingers in my ears. ‘This is barbaric’ I said to Jules as I fled to my room. I then spent several plays of Paramore’s 'I Caught Myself’ lying down before messaging my flatmate to ask if it was okay for me to come back yet. ‘I want to see the rest of it, just not this bit’ I lied. I returned and caught the last five minutes.
This should really come as no surprise to me as I’d already searched Google to see when/if some of my favourite characters were going to be killed off. I know how annoying that is but I do it anyway, like skipping through an episode to see if the lead protagonist survives a car crash, or reading an entire film review online without even seeing the movie. I like to know what’s going on. Plus if you think about it, it's really a 50% surprise because I don’t actually know how they’re going to be killed off I just know that they are. There’s a difference.
I went out for a walk today in the London drizzle and noticed that everyone has started to abide by lockdown rules now the weather has shifted. The joggers are still as persistent as ever, but thanks to the puddles you can hear their feet now and not just their distant heavy dry heaves as they get closer (please don’t breathe in my face when you run past, please don’t breathe in my face when you run past). There wasn’t much to contemplate on my walk, nor was there really anything to see. I don’t think I could live on a narrowboat though, which is something I did consider as I strolled along the canal. I spotted one with a 'for sale’ in the window and I just thought “no... not really”. I’m looking at narrowboat interiors right now and it just doesn't entice me at all, but each to their own! I’ll cross that one off the list.
Other bits:
I just got a massive bit of brownie in my Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream. This is my third pint of lockdown, just FYI.
I finished Itaewon Class and it was so good! (I even cried and we all know I struggle to cry these days).
I took a photo of a plane in the sky earlier because its been a while since I've seen one.
I don't have anything else to say so I'm just going to stop here,
Lauren x
*The image of this blog post is from When Harry Met Sally which is arguably one of my favourite films.
At the beginning of all this, I bought an odd flavour of toothpaste when I thought we’d never be able to buy toothpaste again. One of my many ‘essential’ panic buys that resulted in me also owning a reserve shampoo (but not conditioner), a lot of electric toothbrush heads and a big bottle aftersun (what? I might get burnt?), these items live on the top shelf of my wardrobe and every time I get dressed I am reminded of my own stupidity. Of course, now you can buy all the things you need from the supermarket with ease, (excluding flour while everyone goes through their home baking phase of lockdown).
Settling into the 2020 vision for living (isolation is the new trend), I’m trying to determine what essential has really evolved to mean. Obviously, I know it’s food, water, toiletries, having access to the things that make day to day living comfortable and bearable. But I’ve come to realise that essential also translates to a magnitude of other things that either a) can’t be bought (like my love) or b) arrive when I’ve forgotten I ordered them so they’re like a mini surprise when I go to check the post.
All jokes aside, I have discovered that lockdown has forced me into an intense state of self-reflection that has seen my mental health improve drastically. I've had to face my problems head-on (because my Sims never really have any issues to resolve so I’m fixing my own). I'm buying golden syrup so I can draw a smiley face on my morning Ready Brek, adding whipped cream to my hot chocolate, sharing a horrible bottle of wine with my flatmate during a Facetime pub quiz (we won) and enjoying slightly melted Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie Ice Cream on the regular (averaging two pints a week)! In my eyes, these non-essential essential items are like a metaphorical pat on the back that we all deserve.
Other bits:
I bought some white chocolate fingers from the shop the other day and I haven’t decided if I like them or not.
I’ve almost finished another K-Drama and I’m about to be inconsolable all over again.
What do we think about leather jackets?
I keep eating vegetable soup and I hate it.
Okay, I'm going to go outside now. *Grabs a handful of chocolate fingers and leaves*
Lauren xo
Today in the chronicles of ‘Lauren’s bizarre interactions with the general public’, and while out on my midday quarantine stroll earlier, a toddler slowed down on his pushbike, Dad in tow, dropped said pushbike and ran full force toward me. Clinging on to my legs, I just want to take this opportunity to tell you that that child was not my child and I have never met these people before in my life. The Dad asked if I was alright. Am I alright, world? Am I doing okay? I apologised and walked away. I’m not going outside again.
After that, I joined a supermarket queue. I get confused between the entrance of the store and the entrance to the pharmacy but everyone else looks like they know what they're doing so I just scowl and pretend too. While standing there I enjoy the sun at its highest point before I realise that I am a) not adequately dressed for this weather and b) getting sunburnt. On the search for some ‘nice crusty bread’ and ‘fancy crisps’ to spice things up a bit, I think I might pick up some wine too. I don’t like wine. Last night Jules and I shared some Premium Passion Fruit Martinis in a can that I’d bought from Tesco. They were terrible.
On a happier note, my evening was vastly improved by the fact that I had cooked enough Chorizo Carbonara (you're welcome) to last me for two dinners. What a silver lining. What a moment. Cracking open the Tupperware, I can tell you now that in these desperate times I’m including making food that lasts for multiple meals in the list of life’s greatest pleasures. This selection of things also covers not having to wash up, doing a weeks worth of shopping for under £30, and getting home to have a nice cup of tea after an hour of dodging the public.
The key to making it last is cooking food that is freezable. Bolognese, lasagne, pie bases without their lid. This brings large scale cooking down to a minimum, where it should be. A once a week jaunt if you’re lucky. (When I know I have food I can reheat, then I know I have more time to think about how the world is going to end and everything is over). Our freezer has been at the heart of our lockdown, and it stands stocked high with chicken goujons, fries, peas (really, so many packets of frozen peas) and sweetcorn.
Alternatively, you have your pasta and rice dishes, that when all combined together don’t really freeze. BUT, they will sit happily in the fridge for several days, so that’s at least two nights of the week you don’t have to get out 15 pans before washing everything up till your hands are redraw.
Salad? I don’t make salad. I don't even look at salad. I don't even think about salad.
On tonight's menu for dinner is the food I made yesterday. The preparation of this meal will include me taking off the Tupperware lid, microwaving the pasta for maybe two/three minutes, perhaps adding some parmesan for flare and then sitting down to watch episode 897 of The Walking Dead.
Other bits:
I'm listening to Summer Girl by Haim to trick my mind into thinking I'm going to be enjoying June, July and August of this year.
If anyone in the general public is reading this, please give me a wide birth on the street and don't interact with me under any circumstances. This will still stand after the social distancing rules have changed. Thank you.
GOODBYE,
Lauren x
For the past few days, I've been cramming my life with episodes of Netflix's Korean drama: Crash Landing on You. Following the story of two lovers (Hyun Bin and Son Ye-jin) who meet in impossible circumstances (like, genuinely impossible), the show also details their surrounding lives, families, jobs, friends and the difficulties they encounter on the journey of their relationship. (I’m a hopeless romantic, just to make you aware now, so programmes like this are catnip for me).
I started out watching this series on my own before subjecting my flatmate to the 90 minute long (each episode!), 16 video marathon of this emotional rollercoaster. Enthusiastically pacing the living room, I urged Jules to join me. We watched the finale the other night (which lasts almost two hours) and I felt so attached to the characters that, now I don’t have the show to watch, I'm not entirely sure what to do with myself. When I woke up this morning I read a review of Crash Landing on You and felt a strange pang in my stomach as they discussed the last episode, reliving the persistent attempts of the star crossed lover's desire to be together regardless of their situation.
Look, I didn’t cry, but I nearly did. I actually go through phases of not being able to cry (it's a long story). The finale did make me feel sick though, is that normal?
Keeping things short, and without spoilers, I recommend this show wholeheartedly. Though not in love myself, I do marginally believe in fate and Crash Landing on You gave me moderate (yet fake, it’s a TV show, c'mon) hope for both which is an altogether nice feeling to get from a show in these utterly bizarre times.
I can’t listen to the soundtrack without feeling sad, goddammit.
Excellent quarantine watching, 10/10.
It has an average audience rating of five stars on Google!!!
Brb gonna erase all my memories so I can watch this show from the start again.
Other bits:
I made chicken pie the other night and Jules said she's going to hire me to cook for her
I'm going to start running next week, look out world.
Stay safe,
Lauren x
Plot twist: there is actually no right way to do this and it’s always painful (yet necessary). I look forward to the day when I can walk freely into a supermarket and buy all the ingredients for a three-tiered cake AND bolognese in one swoop.
I was actually writing this post yesterday while stood outside a Sainsbury's 20 minutes from our flat. Jules was reading a sign on one of the structural pillars that reiterated the two-metre distance we must maintain from other people while uttering “I never thought I’d live through something like this”. “It’s pretty mad” I agree. Then we spoke about her £5 GAP jeans and how someone could put a red bull can and an empty carton of cigarettes in the netting above our heads.
Teetering on the edge of our own strip of hazard tape, I realise my hayfever has peaked when it's really not the time. I hope people in the queue don’t think I’m sick. I hope people in the queue doing think I'm crying. This morning when I got up I sat on the toilet and sneezed 10 times in a row.
We’d already visited Tesco but couldn’t get everything we needed, so on our way home we joined the longest queue, which lined the edge of a car park and beyond, to get the last of the day’s shopping done. Someone ahead of us was using a Deliveroo bag for cold items which I thought was a really good idea*. This Sainsbury's is the biggest supermarket near us (it sells clothes, I saw someone looking at swimming costumes) but we haven’t been here since social distancing was implemented. A few weeks ago it was really bad. No loo roll. No nappies. No anything. Everyone was just standing in the aisles freaking out. I think I got some unwaxed lemons that day.
Queuing tips:
1. If the queue looks really long, it’s because it is. However, big supermarkets let in more people at a time so the queue feels like it moves faster? It's all in the mind.
2. Go with a member of your household if you can so you have someone to discuss the complexities of life with. Here’s a topic: why do dating apps exist when they cause so much pain and suffering?
3. If you’re alone don’t make eye contact with anyone just go on Instagram or Pinterest.
4. Have your tote bag and shopping list ready as you go in so you can get your items quickly and leave. I find my anxiety spikes when I've been around people for too long (but I think I was like that before lockdown anyway).
5. Don't turn around. Don't look back, you aren't going that way! Visualise the entrance of the supermarket and soon you will reach it.
6. Maintain a two-metre distance from everyone at ALL times even if the floor markings aren't clear.
7. Smile and say thank you to the people who are working on the door, they are doing an incredible job during these difficult times, as are all supermarket staff!
I just had a nosebleed halfway through my dinner and it ruined the experience considerably.
Until next time,
Oh wait before I go, I finished Crash Landing on You last night and I'm inconsolable. I'm not going to write any more about it because it's going to get its very own post.
Lauren x
*I realise this is just a cool bag okay, I am aware now.
I just want to make it perfectly clear that, like the rest of the world at the moment, the only time I venture beyond the parameters of my flat is to either a) go for a walk or b) go to the supermarket. Sometimes the two coincide. I don’t even stand outside our front door in the morning and observe the world, which I can’t do anyway, even if I wanted to, we back onto a bunch of offices and get no sun this side.
Anyway, yesterday before heading out I got dressed, straightened my hair, put on makeup and popped a hay fever tablet. Feeling together, I walked along the streets of London as the blossom from the trees blew through my hair like a Disney movie. Clutching onto an extensive shopping list I had written over the Easter weekend, I set my sights on a Tesco I had been meaning to visit due to its small and fast-moving queue.
In the first two weeks of lockdown, I felt that ‘getting ready for the day’ (that’s in quotation marks because what does getting ready for the day even mean anymore?) was arbitrary and redundant. I wasn’t going into the office, I wasn't going to have eye contact with a mysteriously handsome stranger on the tube at 8:00am who I was then never going to see again, so who cares? My flatmates don’t care, I don’t care, what's the point? For 14 days I carried on with this mindset, applauding myself for saving both on makeup wipes and not using my eyeliner, mascara or blush. I let my hair go unbrushed and I was only shaving my legs up to my knees in the shower.
Once the initial adjustment period passed, and I had cycled through all my pyjamas and loungewear, I realised that I never felt nice, right? I never felt special. I wasn’t wearing any of my favourite clothes or shoes, I was just moping around in an oversized t-shirt that had various food stains on it, pretending that this was some abstract form of self-care.
It doesn't have to be every day that I sit down, style my hair and arduously draw on winged eyeliner to then go and stand in a queue outside a supermarket for 15 minutes, but every once in awhile it helps, honestly. Even if you aren't going anywhere, just do it for yourself.
Other Bits
I still can’t do a press-up
I’ve been watching a Korean show on Netflix called Crash Landing on You - stop what you’re doing right now and put it on. Each episode is like an hour and a half long but it's so worth it.
I have a moodboard Instagram account where I post pictures of things I like @lawhr0n
Until next time,
Lauren x
Here, dear reader, you are witnessing the miraculous and steady transformation of my wardrobe whose new chapter begins with the purchase of these mules. I will acknowledge that I already had all the garments pictured in my arsenal but I feel that the addition of heels truly improves the whole vibe.
Mules
Accessories
Bag
Sunglasses
Outfit #1
Puff-Sleeve Top (This hurt to put on and take off)
Jeans (Levi's 501s)
Outfit #2
Racerback Vest Top
Suit Trousers
Outfit #3
Dress (Fits loose at the back so I usually pin it to give it a bit of shape)
Lauren's Top Tip: I get all my trousers and jeans adjusted on the waist so the fit is *chefs kiss*. Just head to your local dry cleaners (not now obviously) and they usually have a tailors service too. It costs me £20 to get the waist taken in and I recommend it 100%.
Still watching The Walking Dead, I think it's getting better.
C u l8r
Lauren x
Last night when I was getting ready for bed I noticed that my room smelt of the bolognese I had laboriously cooked for dinner several hours earlier. I was slightly surprised by this, but as my bedroom shares a wall with the kitchen (it’s a small flat) it’s not totally shocking for my culinary delights to seep through the brick and plaster. However, this wasn’t the smell of ridiculously good bolognese (like the kind you get at Terroni of Clerkenwell, if you know, you know) - this was the smell of me following a BBC Food recipe for too long in an attempt to work some sustenance into my weekly lockdown diet.
After opening my window, I began to clear my bed of books, phone cables, chargers, bags, keys and any bits of clothing I had discarded throughout the day that now required folding. When I was down to the last item, I held in my hands a beloved wardrobe staple (a piece in my collection that I actually want to wear) from AYM, formerly Boom Boom The Label. Once back on its hanger and tucked away for the night, I thought about all the other independent stores I love, and that deserve enthusiastic attention at this time, so I’m going to share them, right now, with you. Drum roll, please.
AYM
This brand is how my sexier, more extrovert side would dress if she had parties to go to, places to be and was heading out on a stream of dates that all took place at different rooftop bars where the drinks come in quirky glasses. Alas, I don’t have any of these experiences under my belt, but I do own a fair few pieces from AYM to wear during my regular shmegular life. (FYI: the fit is amazing).
SEOL + GOLD
My ears are overly sensitive (just like the rest of me) and I’ve therefore always, always struggled to find earrings that don’t cause crusty, gammy ooziness to seep from my piercings. You’ll be pleased to know the search is over and has been for some time. Thank you Seol + Gold.
GOODHOOD
According to one of my closest friends, this store is ‘the best thing about Shoreditch’. It’s edgy, somewhat intimidatingly so and stocked to the brim with things you don’t need but also kind of do. I’ve lost track of the times younger me applied for a job at Goodhood, and how often I’ve considered buying a HAY toothbrush in ‘soft rose’ for £4 when I’ve been browsing their shelves. An essential, but not really, but also yes.
LILY & ROO
My St Christopher is the most precious piece of jewellery I own, I am never without it, but after a while, I realised he needed a friend. After searching 'minimal gold jewellery' and 'simple gold jewellery' for what felt like days, I found Lily & Roo and now my St Christopher is lonely no more.
What are some of your favourite independent brands?
HOPE EVERYONE IS WELL,
Bye, buh bye, adiós,
Lauren x
After opening my window, I began to clear my bed of books, phone cables, chargers, bags, keys and any bits of clothing I had discarded throughout the day that now required folding. When I was down to the last item, I held in my hands a beloved wardrobe staple (a piece in my collection that I actually want to wear) from AYM, formerly Boom Boom The Label. Once back on its hanger and tucked away for the night, I thought about all the other independent stores I love, and that deserve enthusiastic attention at this time, so I’m going to share them, right now, with you. Drum roll, please.
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| Bourne T-shirt £39 // Bourne Long-Sleeve Top £49 |
AYM
This brand is how my sexier, more extrovert side would dress if she had parties to go to, places to be and was heading out on a stream of dates that all took place at different rooftop bars where the drinks come in quirky glasses. Alas, I don’t have any of these experiences under my belt, but I do own a fair few pieces from AYM to wear during my regular shmegular life. (FYI: the fit is amazing).
 |
| Lightning Studs £12 // 13mm Hoop Pair £30 |
SEOL + GOLD
My ears are overly sensitive (just like the rest of me) and I’ve therefore always, always struggled to find earrings that don’t cause crusty, gammy ooziness to seep from my piercings. You’ll be pleased to know the search is over and has been for some time. Thank you Seol + Gold.
 |
| Image is from here |
GOODHOOD
According to one of my closest friends, this store is ‘the best thing about Shoreditch’. It’s edgy, somewhat intimidatingly so and stocked to the brim with things you don’t need but also kind of do. I’ve lost track of the times younger me applied for a job at Goodhood, and how often I’ve considered buying a HAY toothbrush in ‘soft rose’ for £4 when I’ve been browsing their shelves. An essential, but not really, but also yes.
 |
| Cross Necklace £160 |
LILY & ROO
My St Christopher is the most precious piece of jewellery I own, I am never without it, but after a while, I realised he needed a friend. After searching 'minimal gold jewellery' and 'simple gold jewellery' for what felt like days, I found Lily & Roo and now my St Christopher is lonely no more.
What are some of your favourite independent brands?
HOPE EVERYONE IS WELL,
Bye, buh bye, adiós,
Lauren x
(Gwyneth Paltrow's style in Sliding Doors? Yes)
Hailey Bieber's stylist @MaeveReilly doing the most
I aim to get out of the house once a day for general sanity, breathing space and to make the most of the fact we still can. I have a fear of jogging (don’t ask) so I use my slice of government allotted recreation time to stretch my legs on the deserted streets of central London. Today I ventured out alone, two metres from the world, in what felt like the actual start of British Summertime, dressed in cream jeans, white Air Force 1s, a cream ribbed turtle neck and a cream cardigan - a lot of cream going on. It was 22°C outside and as I got to walking, I got to thinking, this outfit, though good, is not good enough - and I hate all my clothes.
(This thought occurs to me at least once a day as I trawl through Instagram, mind-numbingly scroll Pinterest and persistently Google 'white side ruched top' 'satin skirt' 'mules' and 'white ribbed tank top' only to stare at the checkout page for hours before getting up and making a cup of tea. I don't help myself).
The more I continued with my afternoon the more I started to realise how much I disliked my wardrobe back at the flat. Construction-wise it's exactly how I want it to be, the coat hangers all match and I have that IKEA storage system that hangs from the rail. Excellent. The clothes that occupy my closet, however, are a different story, a whole 500 page novel on the struggle between dressing like a tomboy and wanting to look fabulously chic, a conflict that has stalked me since I was 18.
I’m not saying all the items I own are bad, they really aren’t, but they could be so much better. One half of my wardrobe is a collection of oversized black and white men’s t-shirts from Uniqlo, (which I love, that’s not a slam) baggy jeans and big comfy sweatshirts. The who I want to be half of things contains open back tops, suit trousers, and an excessive amount of knitwear from & Other Stories. You get the picture. You get the clash.
I suppose what I was asking myself on my walk, as I dodged the sunlight desperately looking for shade without stopping, is can the two me’s coexist someway? Can they find a way to blend happily? Support one another and grow harmoniously?
Turning onto the home stretch, I reached a conclusion: the answer is no. When this lockdown has been lifted I’ll have worn enough sweatpants, oversized t-shirts and jogging bottoms to last me a lifetime. My wardrobe is safe, it's easy, it's comfortable. I always tell myself that I could get dressed in the dark if I wanted to. But I don't want to, what use is that skill? And how many times have I ever needed to ever get dressed in the dark anyway? My clothes don't make me feel special, they don't make me feel anything, and with a stack of Vogue's piling up over the years, it's about time that I love what I wear just as much as I love fashion. When I emerge from this I don't want to keep thinking, 'oh I'll wear that outfit someday' or 'one day I'll dress like that'. The time is NOW.
**The pictures above aren't me sadly but they are a reflection of what my wardrobe is about to look like. I feel good. I feel great.
Some of my fave Instagram accounts worth following for fashion inspo:
@jacquiealexander
@jessalizzi
@the_drobe (always post such good fits!)
@cerecampbell
@sofiamcoelho
I'm still watching the Walking Dead and I hate it X infinity
This song: Without You - Spooky Black
Stay safe out there,
Lauren x
Last night my flatmate, Jules, made Whiskey Sours. I would say a core component of making cocktails is to live with a drink-making expert, which I do, but these only have three ingredients so it’s pretty easy.
“It’s 50ml of whiskey (Jules used Jameson), 25ml of lemon juice, 25ml of egg white and one bar spoon of sugar. Shake it really hard in a shaker, wet shake, (which is with ice) so everything foams up, then you drain the drink you’ve made into a glass with ice" and that's it. Ta-da. It was really delicious so shoutout to Jules.
Okay, confession time, I’ve spent the last two/three years avoiding alcohol. Once I didn’t have the excuse of being a young student anymore and with a hefty commute into the city (drive, train and THEN tube), I just never found time to squeeze in a drink, even when I was pulling long hours at the local pub (bUt YoU wOrKeD iN a PuB). I really just lost my taste for it too and that made quitting easier. In the beginning, and in general, people made their comments ‘how can you not drink?’ ‘how do you possibly let off steam?’ ‘do you ever have fun?’ How do you make it through the week without a glass of wine??’ but then, over time it didn't really matter. Wine also fucking sucks. There were occasions when I did have a drink, like on my birthday or at Christmas, but all in all, booze was off the cards. I experienced silver linings for sure: saving money (duh), a chance to sample the world of mocktails (Seedlip is horrific don’t let anyone tell you otherwise), no hangovers, no headaches and most importantly waking up the next morning with a full record of everything that happened the night before.
All that being said, moving to London changed things. I stopped looking at every booze-related moment as an opportunity for something bad to happen and started to consider… what if? I drip-fed alcohol back into my life and chose to drink on occasions that felt right, gauging how much I was going to have based on present company. A rule of thumb for me? If the vibes are off, I never drink. If the vibes aren't off, I never exceed more than three drinks. If I'm with someone I trust fully (family and like two friends) the limit does not exist. I'll never be drunk drunk again though.
So, last night my flatmate, Jules, made Whiskey Sours.
Other bits:
I'm still watching the Walking Dead Lord save me
I bought a springform tin yesterday so I can make cheesecake - stay tuned.
BYE!
Lauren x
Public Service Announcement: I have never done this before, this is not a professional guide and it's also not something that I would attempt again, BUT I now know I could do if I had to, so there's that.
Items used:
Acetone (£9.99)
A nail kit (£7.99) This kit kinda sucks, I only used the finger clip things and the brush
Three nail files (I used them all)
Cotton rounds (I cut mine into little squares)
A nail clipper (it’s a baby one because I couldn’t buy any adult ones in Boot’s on the day I went looking for stuff like that)
In hindsight, I probably should’ve watched a video on how to do this beforehand, but alas, I did not. I am comforted by the fact that the shellac removal was a success though and my nails are now short, ugly and look like they’ve been dipped in glue. I basically did this from memory, trying my best to follow how my shellac is usually taken off at the nail salon. I would say the whole process took about an hour, maybe a little bit more, but hey I don't even know what day it is.
To kick things off I filed the shellac down on all my fingernails till I could start to see my own nail underneath. Once I did this I soaked five little squares in acetone before clipping them to my left hand. Now the waiting part. Usually, this is so much faster in the salon but it took 20 minutes for the shellac to begin to peel for me. After this, I could easily scrape the varnish off. You're going to want to repeat this all for your other hand in case that wasn't explicitly clear.
Voila, that’s it, the shellac is gone. For a final step, I cut my nails right back so they’re super short. They’re a little sore now too and I’m sad that they look gross but overall I’m happy that the nails are d-o-n-e.
Thoughts I had while taking the shellac off:
This hurts. Why am I doing this? I miss my nail salon. I’m never getting shellac ever again. (Looks at a picture of a manicure and cries). This is not fun. I’ve filed my own nail too much and now I’m going to have a hole in the middle of my finger.
Stay tuned for more #laurenhacks as I help you navigate lockdown.
Other bits:
Shoutout to my flatmate Jules (@jbrugnerotti) for taking these photos for my blog
I’m still watching the Walking Dead and I am screaming at every episode
**The colour on my nails is O.P.I Don't Bossa Nova Me Around
Byeeee, bye, bye bye,
Lauren x
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