"Nostalgia is a powerful feeling; it can drown out anything"

Nostalgia is a trend that never goes away. It pops its head round the corner of our lives, just to mention a thought it had about that thing that you used to love, do you remember? It gently nudges the arm of designers and stirs up a memory of a past decade and the shoes it wore. It's what keeps the 16mm film industry afloat, Lomography stocked in  Urban Outfitters, and the rest of the iPhone/ Android using world attatched to their Instagram filters. We revel in the haze that nostalgia quietly weaves around our lives. Nostalgia is both ephemeral in its phases, and omnipresent throughout our lives. Nostalgia is bittersweet. Nostalgia is cool.

earrings- Forever 21, jumper- Primark, dress- charity shop, boots- Jones the Bootmaker

But when you're on your sixth Buzzfeed article about "Those Awesome Crazy Things That Happened In The Nineties That Only You As A Nineties Child Will Get" and you're preparing for each Throwback Thursday weeks in advance it may be time to rub the haze out your eyes and rejoin your peers in the present. Until next Thursday that is. And in the mean time, there's always dressing like the 90s woman you never realised you wanted to be until nostalgia whispered in your ear about that TV show you used to love, and how cool those people looked through your 8 year old eyes. 




Title Quote Attributed to Terrence Malick speaking about "Badlands"  

"Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week."

Sunday has its own paper, which must mean something. And even though I don't have much of a recognisable schedule or clear cut weekend, Sunday still feels like a different sort of day. The west end becomes a haven for yummy mummies and daddy cools, ladies who brunch, well dressed dog walkers, and, during a sweltering summer, the midday pint drinkers and barbeque gastronomes. On a particularily lovely summer Sunday, we did exactly that.

skirt and top- charity shop, bag- DIY, earrings- Topshop

These photos, taken in Glasgow's Botanic Gardens, are a jarring contrast to what I'm currently seeing outside. There is something oddly nostalgic about looking back at summer once you start to hit the cold again. I'm sitting somewhere on the fence looking at these: on the one hand, I'm reminded of a really lovely time; on the other, it sends me into a deep melancholy about the lack of sandals in my immediate future. 

There is a silver lining however. At least clashing prints aren't seasonal.




Title quote attributed to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

"Maybe... you'll fall in love with me all over again."

" "Hell", I said, "I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?"
"Yes, I want to ruin you."
"Good", I said. "That's what I want too." "



Sitting in a small Victorian style cafe in Carlisle this morning, I finished the book I've been reading. It isn't a long book but it took me a few months to get through, but not because it was dull or uneventful. I somehow got pulled away from a book I really loved by nothing more exciting than the internet and daytime TV, despite doing a literature degree. Things that are all well and fine, but aren't even close to the fulfilment of finding a great book. And over the past year I've managed to forget how much I love reading. Reading proper books: not news snippets on websites, or blog posts, or 140 characters of whatever. Real books.    

scarf- H&M, earrings- Forever 21, top- charity shop, dungarees- Zara, shoes- Jones the Bootmakers

 Of course, I am waxing lyrical about 'real books' in a three paragraph blog post partially punctuated by a picture of me squinting in the sun in a pair of dungarees. Perhaps I should have popped the paperback in my front pocket. It's certainly large enough: there's definitely room in there next to my phone. Maybe I'll try it later and tweet the results. #Imissrealbooks. All jokes and soon-to-be-trending-watch-this-space hashtags aside though, I really do miss books. And I only just realised today.  
 

 Sitting by the window I finished off the last morsels of story, closed the pages, and put the book down. As I gazed outside I savoured that feeling, until the front pocket of my dungarees buzzed to tell me that my sister's train was arriving.







Title quote from A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

(Thank you Ruth for lending me your copy!)

"Thrift is not an affair of the pocket, but an affair of the character."

Dress- £3.99, Bag- £2, Hat- £4, White Shirt- £2.95, Striped Shirt- £1.99

I happen to live in an area with an abundance of charity shops. I happen also to relish a bargain. Furthermore, I happen to be comfortable in all kinds of weird apparel. Even clothes that look like they were potentially worn by an old cat lady who may or may not have died in them someone's Nan just the other week. So when my friend Nina asked me to go on a charity-shop-pub-crawl-type-thing (there was, admittedly, only one pub involved) I perhaps came across as a bit too keen. As in, I instantly screamed "Of COURSE, thiswillbesomuchfun!". Poor Nina.

For anyone Glasgow based, the best charity loot in the West End is to be found along Dumbarton Road, more commonly known as 'The Street Where Dreams Come True'*. Byres Road is good for the unexperienced, but overpriced and lacking in character; remember this also when you are looking for a pub. We started up towards Crow Road and worked our way right down to the Salvation Army, and it is in this stretch that I purchased all these goodies.   

As Nina found out, I have very few rules for this kind of shopping, but those I do use are working pretty well for me so far:

1.  "A bargain ain't a bargain unless it's something you need".
   This is just a rule for shopping in general. Just because it's cheap, doesn't mean you should buy it. If I like something, I won't buy it unless I can think of at least 3 outfits using it. Otherwise 2 months down the line it's getting re-donated to Cancer Research.
   
2. Be willing to step out of your comfort zone.
   Charity shopping is not like high street shopping where everything is new, in your size or laid out well. It's also not like vintage shopping, where most things are at least interesting. You will have to sift through everything to find something, and most likely that will mean a lot of fleeces.
    
3. Try anything!
   If something is suprisingly/ weirdly/ strangely nice then ignore the adverb and go for it. However, beware the fine line of "This is either really ugly or really great". It could go either way, although if you have to ask if it's ugly, it probably is. A point of note: not everywhere has changing rooms, so wear a vest top to try things over your clothes. 

Ok, so it's not a foolproof guide, but as long as you don't come home with a dolphin fleece then you should be fine. Unless that's your thing, of course. In which case there's no help for you.











*Disclaimer: I'm around 90% certain that it is only me who says this. The other 10% of me reckons my flatmate, who has a collection of blinged out iPhone cases and a love of cheap nail salons, feels the same way.




Title quote attributed to S.W. Straus

"I bring the sun wherever I go, buddy."

Having been away from home for the past two summers, and having heard the past two summers at home were dreadful, I felt pretty smug during this past heatwave. When someone complained about the heat, I'd tell them I was working in hotter last year. If people said to me I looked tanned I'd be all, "Oh, I'm just topping it up from last year. Yeah, I just hold tan really well". Smug with a Self-important capital S.

sunglasses- c/o my mother, jewellery- Forever 21, tunic- DIY

    

Honestly though, my tan only looked great in the right light. And despite having worked in the heat, I was in no way acclimatised. I spent an hour out in the sun the other week, got sunburnt, and thus spent the next two days indoors. I used my time well though: asides from making this top, I also made a bag from scratch. Not bad for someone who hasn't touched a sewing machine since before the first summer I was away two years ago.   


And suddenly, with that self-proclamation, I'm all Smug again. 



("Also, you can now follow my blog with Bloglovin!" she said, Smugly.)


Title quote from Franny and Zooey by J D Salinger

"Thunder is good, thunder is impressive; but it is lighting that does all the work."

I've had these boots since I was 13, and they are looking their age. The soles have suffered, no doubt in part to my early infatuation with them which resulted in wearing them for a year straight when I first got them. The leather is scuffed and faded, from deep indigo to lighter purples and pinks. The laces have been changed countless times due to damage both physical and sartorial (bright pink is not a route I'll go down again soon). And still, every time I think I'm going to get caught in the rain, I reach for them. They're like an old friend I've managed to keep in touch with, despite having moved and changed and grown (well, except for the size of my feet). I love them even more now than I did at 13. I love the battered softness of the leather, the change in colour when they inevitably get wet, the remaining bounce in the tired soles...

boots- Doc Martens, trousers- ASOS, jumper and hat- H&M, necklace- Forever 21

   

I think I just found myself writing a love letter to a pair of boots? Or an ode to well worn footwear perhaps? It's probably about time really. Nine years is a long time to be in a relationship without having considered penning some poetry.
  




Title quote attributed to Mark Twain

"Do what we can, summer will have its flies."

It is 28 degrees outside and I’ve already swatted two fat flies whilst writing this. They come in my open window, the unwanted plus-ones of a much welcome cool breeze, dive-bombing and throwing themselves up against the window. I hate them. All I think when I hear that maddening buzzing is that I have to kill it. If my neighbours had glanced across they’d of seen me jumping on and off a chair, spraying and swatting like I was participating in an insect exorcism. I may not be the most skilled bluebottle assassin, but what I lack in co-ordination I make up in blood-thirsty determination. Jazz- 2, flies- 0.

Headscarf- M&Co, shirt- New Look, shorts- Forever 21

 

The heat has reached the stage of unwelcome house guest; someone recently said to me that they were hoping for one day of rain so that they could appreciate the sun again. There have been numerous sightings of awkward sunburn and car thermometers over 30 degrees, and I for one have been rendered unable to wear anything that doesn't resemble silk pajamas. Which, actually, suits me just fine.




Title quote is attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson