More riveting tales of excess on my blogspot, where I talk about spending all my Boots points in one go. BORN TO BE WILD, HUH?!

I have blogged about 2012 and Lana Del Rey and the ways I wish to copy her.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

…on my uni-blog.

A carefully edited look inside my handbag

I’ll try harder next week, swearsies…

Born to be wild,

Hetty

…on my uni-blog. Having a blog was fun until I had to have a blog.

Model’s Own Lili’s Pink Nail Polish review and swatch

Cobalt, the winter hue I’m seeking out right now

Born to be wild,

Hetty

Electra Heart by Marina and the Diamonds is current frontrunner for my album of the year. It’s pop perfection with an integrity that transcends the superficial prom queen image she’s carefully cultivated. I mean, if Teen Idle, her ode to a youth spent navel-gazing, doesn’t resonate with you, you clearly weren’t a fat, friendless sixteen year old, aka me*.

From interviews I get the feeling she felt like a bit of an ugly duckling, so it’s gratifying to see her get the recognition and admiration she deserves. She’s enjoying her transformation into a swan and playing peacock too. 

Marina Lambrini Diamandis (ugh! so jealous!) is the whole package. She is an amazing songwriter, an accomplished musician, has beauty, brains and what a body. However, with great power comes great responsibilty. As her popularity grows, so will her sartorial influence, and if you’re a shameless copycat like me, you’ll be looking for ways to emulate her distinctive style.

Unfortunately, I think I have a bit more streamlining to do before anyone will catch me cracking about in a PVC mini-skirt. I don’t care if it’s in homage to the Spice Girls. I know my limits.

I already wear bows in my hair all the time because je suis coquette; I’m the oldest Lolita in town!

Doll-lashes are another no-can-do. As a contact-lens and strip-lash wearer, and reluctant fan of the clip-in weave, I already have to dismantle myself from the neck up at the end of a day. I’m intrigued by the beauty-heart though. Rule #3: wear your heart on your cheek:

I think a teardrop tattooed below one eye might befit my demeanour better. 

At the less murderous end of the scale, I adored the interlocking double-Cs worn by the Chanel models for the showing of 2013’s cruise collection:

There are many, many reasons why I wouldn’t copy this, starting with the fact that I don’t have a very steady hand, and ending with the sad reality that everyone would laugh at me. 

Very, very occasionally (for example, in the cases of yoghurt and fur) natural is best. Before it was Cindy’s trademark and Dita was getting her’s tattooed on, Marilyn Monroe’s beauty mark punctuated her expressive face while she declared that “Imperfection is beauty”:

I wasn’t blessed with this particular variety of ‘imperfection’, but next time I have an untimely blemish, I’ll think of Marilyn, channel Marina, and get the eyeliner out.

Sources: 1, 2, 3

Born to be wild,

♡HETTY♡

*Jokes!**

**Well, maybe a little bit fat.

The reason I haven’t been posting lately is because I have to do a new blog for university. I have been busy writing fashion-related posts that I am comfortable with my lecturers reading. Although my lecturer really liked the common theme throughout this blog, it needs to be a new blog, with a more refined fashion thread running through it. I haven’t actually posted anything new to my new blog, but I’ve transferred a few posts across so I can mess around with the appearance. I have discovered that it is a lot harder to make Blogspot look pretty! 

I will maintain this blog as much as can, and cross-post where appropriate, but until the 14th of December, my new one will be the priority. 

I am not even sure what to call my new blog, so for now, it is at hettybl.blogspot.com.

If you follow this blog, and have a blogspot, please leave a comment and let me know. I’m excited to know what is out there on blogspot, as I feel there’s a strong beauty/fashion community happening there. Can you follow people on Blogspot? Is that what Bloglovin’ is? I have a lot of learning to do, and quickly.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

I think I’ve been anticipating this perfume for about two years now, and have been putting off buying new perfume in the run-up to its release because I knew I’d have to have it. I didn’t even know it was out in the UK until it was given to me as a gift, so the surprise was even greater when I received it. The bottle is very Mugler in appearance and the tactile quality of the egg-shaped bottle is so satisfying. So smooth and cold and weighty; it fits perfectly in the hand and I am strangely compelled to put it in my mouth.

That’s kind of where my enthusiasm runs dry, I’m afraid to say. When Lady Gaga initially said she was designing a fragrance that smelled of “blood and semen”, I knew not to expect anything half as outré. But I did expect animalic musk, masculine notes such as leather and tobacco, maybe something metallic or acrid. I expected something like La Roue De La Fortune by D&G with its stubborn benzoin and slightly rancid patchouli, or something sharp and spiky like BANG! by Marc Jacobs, with a more feminine edge. Unfortunately, it’s the blandest, most generic perfume I have smelled in ages, and I would have dismissed it immediately if I’d sampled it blind. Honestly, if someone told me it was the new Juicy perfume, or released under the name of a reality-tv contestant, I’d have believed them.

As a synesthete, I find it easier to describe the perfume as pink and doughy, the complete opposite to the dark, angular advertising campaign. The notes I can detect are apricot, honey and incense. The Belladonna and tiger orchid are completely lost on me. As far as I can tell, it’s a fruity-floral with a sweet and powdery drydown. It is pleasant, but such a disappointment when a polarising love-it-or-hate-it Marmite was promised. 

A couple of dismayed reviewers have pointed out that expectations should never have been so high, as, after all, it is a celebrity perfume. I disagree: celebrity perfumes can and have been done very well. Kate Moss’ first perfume is one I have bought every October since 2007 as it’s a warm rosy scent that’s perfect for winter. Reb’l Fleur by Rihanna is another excellent perfume; a creamy, coconutty chypre. 

I don’t want to be down on Gaga, as she is pretty curvy right now and Mary Jane Holland is her worst creation (after this perfume), but I am so frustrated. “Sexy, slutty and dangerous” is how she described Fame in a televised interview last week. If only!

Born to be wild,

Hetty

I’m utterly in love with beetroot right now. It’s just so refreshing and flavourful however it’s prepared. It’s pretty filling too, so in a bid to conquer the dangerous curves I have developed over the past five months of summer holiday, I made some satisfying roast beetroot soup. 

I roasted 500g of beetroot with a red onion, some balsamic vinegar and olive oil, sea salt and thyme. Once tender (about 40 minutes in a low oven), I simmered everything in 700ml of vegetable stock for 20 minutes or so before blending into a fortifying, jewel-coloured soup.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

(L-R)

LOOK Beauty Make Me Blush Shade 1 “Flirt” I was initially attracted to the packaging of this blusher; it’s sturdy and has a good-sized mirror. It’s the colour that has elevated it to favourite status though. It’s the closest I’ve found to my all-time favourite and now-discontinued MyFace Holiday. It’s a very bold reddish coral with just a hint of sparkle and doesn’t require much building to get a nice flush. I apply this with a large Estée Lauder blusher brush, with long soft bristles. I think you need quite a fluffy brush when using such a pigmented blusher so there are no hard edges when you apply it. 

GOSH Natural Touch Cream Blusher in 001 Peachy Rush This is a true coral crème and produces a dewy, natural glow if your skin is well-moisturised. I tend not to wear a primer on my cheeks before applying my foundation if I’m going to be wearing this, as it tends to sink into any areas of dryness making me look a little bit uneven and chalky. When my skin is right for it though, it’s such a lovely, comfortable product to wear. 

Sleek Blush in Rose Gold 926 This is the flatter-all holy grail of affordable blushers. I was put off buying this (or its more famous, more expensive twin) for ages because I hate that glittery-faced look. When I finally swatched it on my arm I couldn’t believe how finely-milled and blendable the shimmer particles are. It’s an automatic bringer of light and vitality. I wear it alone, on the apples of my cheeks, on my forehead, on my nose and temples, or layer it over another blusher to contour.

(not) Born this way,

Hetty

Bombshells, neon signs, trees, Gaga-Lana-Amy-Marina, handsome young men,  ♡ m i n n i e ♡ m o u s e ♡, horses, maquillage, maps.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

I’ve lately been favouring more muted nail colours that tie in with the burgundy jeans and lace-y cream blouse I have been wearing to death, but the last-gasp Indian summer called for something more frivolous and joyful.

The Look Beauty range is one of the reasons I have been frequenting Superdrug a lot more of late (along with the Gosh counter and Sleek range). This pink is from Look’s “Nail Pop” range and is the most saturated neon pink I’ve come across since Bloom’s Molly. It has an almost jelly-like consistency and dries semi-matte, which is unavoidable with a neon. I used a Sally Hansen Hard As Nails top coat as I think they dry glassy and stay that way for a good couple of days. I think the colour deserves to stand alone and unadulterated, but I added some ring-finger sparkles with No7’s Ltd Ed Glitter Top Coat in Silver.

No7 Ltd Ed Glitter top coat in Silver and Look Beauty Nail Pop in NEON Shade 19:

Born to be wild,

Hetty

The last time I went to the hairdresser, I ended up in tears. It was undignified and childish, but despite their eye-rolling and tutting, the girls re-did my colour and promised my next visit would be free. I’ve been too scared to go back; after years of subtle ombré highlights and tumbling princess locks, they gave me bleached yellow fluff. How could they get it so wrong? The trust is gone. So, when I awoke this morning sick to death of my hair, I took matters (and the kitchen scissors) into my own hands. I stood in front of the mirror for an age, contemplating the pros and cons of a thick, eyelash-skimming fringe. Eventually, I went for it, and twelve hours later, I have no regrets. 

I haven’t listened to the new Cat Power album yet and its been out for almost 48 hours. I wanted to wait until I had time to dedicate to the experience, with no demanding toddlers distractions. Apparently it’s ridiculously good, and her GQ headline is such a treat: No One Cat Should Have All That Power. How good is that? I’m off to spend a little time with a cup of tea, Sun, and my original fringe-idol.

Sources: 1, 2, 3

Born to be wild,

Hetty

It was 3º last night, and it’s September tomorrow, so it feels fitting that I make a few changes round the house to bring autumn in. 

I changed the cushion covers to something more muted and autumnal. 

I’m about to start a new knitting project - it might be a shawl, or it might be a blanket. I’m not sure yet, but either way, it’ll be soft grey merino. I’m coming out all-candles-blazing right now too. It’s about to get very Harry Potter round here.

And I added a sprig of dried berries to the mantelpiece mirror to bring warmth to the fireplace, colour-wise if not heat-wise. 

Born to be wild, 

Hetty

My desk is tiny and lives in the darkest corner of my flat, under the sloping ceiling - the joys of living in a Victorian terrace. It’s jammed into the only corner it would fit, which has its advantages: there is no view to be distracted by, and being physically confined makes me feel strangely centred. Conveniently, its glass top doubles as a lightbox for those occasions I’m forced to draw because my degree depends on it or whatever. Sometimes, I fantasise about what it would be like to not have to keep my printer in a cupboard. What if one day I want to buy a Newton’s Cradle?!

My dream desk would have a built in lightbox, a view, and room for both my elbows.

Sources: 1, 2, 3

Born to be wild,

Hetty

Violet and I have been spending a lot of time at Hazlehead Park lately, mainly because I find the 2.5 mile uphill walk to get there physically and mentally beneficial on these long days. Normally, we go to the petting zoo or the playground*, but this time we decided do a nature walk, taking in the Queen Mother rose garden along the way. 

We both picked a favourite rose, then, at home, printed off photographs of them to add to her Adventure Book. V can now recognise a few species of tree from the shape of their leaves (holly, oak, purple beech), and she was delighted to see a spider in the process of making “spider lace”. She displayed some exemplary hiding skills too; it took me forever to find her when she stuck her face in that trellis.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

*Violet’s word, not mine. I prefer “park”.

My beautiful nephew enjoyed a double-whammy celebration today: it was not only his fifth birthday, but also his very first day at school! All the family gathered for a Spiderman-themed barbecue to punctuate what will hopefully be one of the most memorable days of his childhood. I wasn’t asked to bring anything sweet, but I jump at any chance to bake, as it definitely makes me more popular.

The recipe is foolproof and produces a massive yield (but can easily be scaled down). The end result is a chewy, crisp cookie that’s better than any I’ve ever bought.

Preheat the oven to 180º/fan 160º/GM4. Using an electric whisk or a wooden spoon and some ripped biceps, cream together 225g of caster sugar with 225g of butter (unsalted is the orthodox choice, but I use salted as I’m on a mission to develop gout). Stir in 350g of self-raising flour before adding *the secret ingredient*, condensed milk. I normally end up using about half a tin, which is a little less than 200g. Add whatever flavour combination you want. You can be fairly cavalier with quantities, although 150g of chocolate is roughly what I would add if I was making one type of cookie.

As it happens, at this stage, I separated the dough into three similar quantities to make three different varieties: white chocolate, milk chocolate, and salted-dark-chocolate-pistachio. For the grown-ups, you know?

Ok, “white chocolate” is something of a misnomer. I used Milkybar. And I briefly pulsed the 70% proof dark chocolate and pistachios in the food processor so it was finer than the chocolate chunks in the other batches. (I also broke my left thumbnail shelling the pistachios so it’s short and unfeminine - who the HELL is going to fancy me now?!)

I sprinkled the PG13 variety with Maldon sea salt flakes:

Bake for 12-16 minutes. I’d keep a close eye on the first batch, as you want them to be ever-so ever-so slightly underdone in the middle. Once they’re out of the oven, give them a moment to settle before transferring to a wire cooling rack. (Teaching your granny to suck eggs, I know, but some people are thick.)

Dreamy.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

Addendum: As the dough is egg-free, it can be refrigerated for up to a week, and frozen for up to one month.

FACTS ABOUT KNITTING: 

• It is a great diet aid. 
• It prevents the knitter from doing any housework whatsoever.
• It renders the television obsolete.

(This was knitted from a Sirdar “Easy Knits” pattern, using Sirdar Baby “Crofter” DK yarn in “Florrie 158”. The Crofter series of yarn all knit up into a sort of Fairisle pattern, making the knit look more complicated than it actually is.)

Born to be wild,

Hetty

I’ve spent a lot of time contemplating my bookcase lately, mainly the fact that it’s inadequate for displaying all the mementos I’ve collected over the years. How on Earth are visitors supposed to know what a cool, eclectic person I am when everything is just a mish-mash of clutter?!

Maybe I should bear in mind that the purpose of a bookcase is to house books, and that it exists to keep my beloved books safe for me. As I inspected the rows of books, I realised that my favourites haven’t changed in a long time. I don’t know if that’s because modern fiction just doesn’t connect with me, or if these books just came along at the right time. Here are a few unforgettable reads from le grande bibliothèque de Heather Bavidge-Longmuir:

“Love in the Time of Cholera”, Gabriel García Márquez

My heart broke when I read recently that GGM is suffering from dementia and won’t be writing any more books. His writing had such an impact on me in my formative years, particularly “El amor en los tiempos del cólera”. It’s the ultimate tale of unrequited love: Florentino Ariza waits fifty-one years, nine months and four days to tell his first love that she’s his only love, and still she rejects him. 

My relationship with this book was cemented from the first page, when in the very first paragraph, I read what may be the greatest sentence I’ve ever known: “The Antillean refugee Jeremiah de Saint-Amour, disabled war veteran, photographer of children, and his most sympathetic opponent in chess, had escaped the torments of memory with the aromatic fumes of gold cyanide.” My mind was blown: is there another description of suicide more beautiful or evocative anywhere else in the world of literature?

“Love in the Time of Cholera” is the most passionate, hopeful story ever told.

I would also like to give Gabriel García Márquez’ 1981 short story, “Chronicle of a Death Foretold” (Crónica de una muerta anunciada) an honorary mention, for three reasons:

1. “He was healthier than the rest of us, but when you listened with the stethoscope you could hear the tears bubbling inside his heart.”

2. “…she had been born like the great queens of history, with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck.” This was never significant to me until I re-read it after Violet was born.

3. It’s wonderful and exciting.

“Rebecca”, Daphne du Maurier

I did a Standard Grade discursive essay on this upon my mum’s recommendation, and I suppose it was the first “grown-up” book I ever read. Up to that point, I was all Sweet Valley High and James Herriot (neither of which are to be sniffed at, I might add). My first revelation was the fact that the story isn’t told from the point of view of Rebecca at all, and that the protagonist is unnamed throughout the entire book. I’d never heard of anything so clever or daring in fiction.

It’s such a well-written story that getting a good grade for my essay was easy. I suppose I’m lucky that I read it so young, as I’ve been able to enjoy a richer understanding of the book as I’ve aged and read it again.

“Men are simpler than you imagine my sweet child. But what goes on in the twisted, tortuous minds of women would baffle anyone.” Now, there’s a sentence that resonates.

“What I Talk About When I Talk About Running” by Haruki Murakami

I’ve read a few of Murakami’s novels and been captivated by his unique story-telling; in contrast to the type of writing I usually prefer, descriptive words are thin on the ground, and there are long periods with no dialogue. Yet, when the text is hard work, or confusing and meta-physical, I have always been enthralled. “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle” was one of those books I’d go to bed early for, and, well, “Norwegian Wood”. Norwegian fucking Wood. I suppose that’s why he’s considered a master of fiction. 

I have always felt that the main characters of his novels are quite autobiographical, and you can get a good sense of Murakami’s taciturn, thoughtful nature just by examining the traits and behaviours of his leading men. So, when I picked up “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running”, his memoir, I felt like I was getting an even deeper insight into someone I was already acquainted with.

Some people might be put off by the fact that it’s a running memoir, but you don’t have to run to draw inspiration from this simple tale of a man’s desire to change his life. It’s my favourite self-help book: “For me, running is both exercise and a metaphor. Running day after day, piling up the races, bit by bit I raise the bar, and by clearing each level I elevate myself. At least that’s why I’ve put in the effort day after day: to raise my own level. I’m no great runner, by any means. I’m at an ordinary – or perhaps more like mediocre – level. But that’s not the point. The point is whether or not I improved over yesterday. In long-distance running the only opponent you have to beat is yourself, the way you used to be.”

I have gifted “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running” to several people, usually copies that have previously belonged to me, full of highlighted passages and biro underlining. It’s a powerful book, that seems to speak to you just when you need it, like a divine intervention. I read it at just the right time, in the nick of time, maybe. It changed my life.

Born this way,

Hetty

With recent trips to the amusements, and recurring sightings in episodes of Woolly & Tig and Ben & Holly’s Little Kingdom, Violet has developed a minor infatuation with the fairground mainstay, the ferris wheel.

Unfortunately, she’s too little to ride the “big steering wheel”; she needs to grow about another foot until she can savour the pleasures of the Aberdeen Eye. I tried to track a toy ferris wheel down, to no avail, so I made her one instead.

From the perspective of a two year old, there’s something magical about seeing a flat sheet of paper transform into anything you like. Anything you like.

I think she thinks I’m a magician now, but it was actually a really easy fold.

It had to be yellow. It’s her colour. And my hands aren’t even that orange, or leathery.

It’ll suffice!

Born to be wild,

Hetty

I’m not sure what made me think of this song a couple of nights ago, but I must have listened to it about twenty times since. Actually, being able to still listen to A.F.I. without judgement is my #1 favourite thing about living alone. Once Violet is in bed, I can freely indulge in not-so-guilty aural pleasures. What a hedonist! I remember listening to this in Standard Grade Maths, and thinking how much cooler, and darker, I was compared to my classmates, who generally favoured 2Pac and Cypress Hill.

Davey Havok was my first alternative crush; “Move over, Freddie Prinze Jr, I like goths now!” In that infuriating way that men do, he’s only got better with age, even if he does wear colours now. One of my favourite Davey Havok eras would be around the time I saw them at the Barras in 2003. His hair was really long, and he wore skintight white jeans and a skintight white t-shirt. He looked dainty and angelic, but so perfectly ripped. I’ll always have a soft spot for the Glenn Danzig era too though.

This song. Perfection.

Born this way,

Hetty

I’ve been wanting to try a nude nail topped with glitter for ages, and No7’s Limited Edition gold top coat seems to have the ideal ratio of glitter to polish for the job. 

It’s definitely less dense than Deborah Lippmann Shake Your Groove Thing, so the nude base underneath is able to shine. It’s also a warmer gold than SYGT, making it a perfect compliment to the soft blush of No7’s Practically Perfect.

No7 Stay Perfect Glitter Top Coat in Gold, and No7 Stay Perfect in 150 Practically Perfect*:

Born to be wild,

Hetty

*must’ve named it after me

Toddlers are unpredictable; any parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle will tell you that. There is, however, one instance where Violet’s behaviour is guaranteed to be a predictable as the tide: if the weather is awful, she will invariably get cabin fever and I’ll be forced to get her in her buggy and take her on an adventure. 

Last Wednesday, it was a bleak, drizzly day. We had the big lights on from the moment we got up in the morning, and the mist was so thick we couldn’t see the bottom of the garden. Not an ideal day to walk the two and a half miles to Hazlehead Petting Zoo, but the uphill trudge was a better proposition than staying indoors with a bored, fractious child. 

The fog lifted just as we arrived, and Violet’s vibrant raincoat and Supergas brought the sunshine.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

My bookcase is very tall and narrow, and filled with the usual clichéd girly curios: well-thumbed paperbacks, glossy books about fashion, manual cameras, the cast iron Batman figurine my Cabbage Patch Kid got for Christmas 1995, a Jo Calderone snowglobe, and the ubiquitous copy of Life’s Too Good by the Sugarcubes on DAT tape (everyone has one of those, right?!) My bookshelf is completely packed, and its starting to go beyond artfully cluttered.

I haven’t a staircase, there’s nowhere for an Expedit to go in my wee flat, and, my God, I adore that yellow anglepoise. Never mind; when I live in a more forgiving space, I’ll definitely make more of a feature of the bookcase.

Sources: 1, 2, 3

Born to be wild,

Hetty

I’m not overly taken with No Doubt’s comeback single but it did fill me with nostalgia for a band that, more than ten years ago, I considered a favourite. Gwen Stefani was my first female obsession, and yes, I did give my platinum hair a pink dip-dye. I always loved this video. The bit where she kicks the lamp then jumps up on the table - wild thing!

I fantasised that I would be the kind of bride she is in this video (strangely, the horrific eyebrows didn’t register), then when she actually did get married, I fantasised I would be that kind of bride too. Clearly, I am not married, and if I am ever lucky enough to be, I won’t have ombré pink hair, or an ombré pink wedding dress. In addition to my nostalgia for simpler, No Doubt-loving times, the fact I am a single mother adds poignancy for me when listening to this song. I thought that doing things in “the right order” was the be-all and end-all; a direct route to happiness. Things haven’t turned out like I thought they would, but better.

Born this way,

Hetty

My hair is in desperate need of a trim, so I’ve exiled my curling wand in order to avoid any further damage. I can’t leave my hair to dry naturally when I’m working, so I’ve been scouting for inspiration for styles I can accomplish with only a hairdryer and some velcro rollers.

Sources: 1, 2, 3.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

These beauties arrived in my work last week and I was immediately drawn to them. I tried them on straight away and was sold as soon as I saw how cute they looked with black tights and the not-exactly-flattering navy tulip dress I wear for uniform. I can’t wait wear them with black drainpipe jeans and my never-fail 2007 New Look trenchcoat. Linda, KG by Kurt Geiger, £150

I already own a couple of skirts and one top with a cutesy and totally-not-me lipstick print motif on them, but they are definitely in the going-out section of my wardrobe. I love wearing blouses, and imagine this would work with Lana Del Rey starlet-hair, skinny blue jeans, white plimsolls and lots of tanned ankle. Carrie Shirt in Print Perfection, Monki, €35

I know this would be a total nightmare to apply (Step 2 The Beat of My ♥ from Justin Bieber’s Nicole for O.P.I collection, anyone? Maybelline Clearly In Love?) but despite that, it’s a must for my collection. Who cares about actually using it on my nails, when it looks this pretty in the bottle? Nothin’ Mouse About It, O.P.I Minnie Mouse Collection, £11

Born to be wild,

Hetty

As soon as I saw Model’s Own Indian Ocean on one of my friends, I knew I had to have it.

I really only wear reds, pinks and oranges (everything else gives me boy-hands), so it’s quite a departure for me. It’s just so pretty though; I ended up ordering it from the Model’s Own website because it kept selling out as soon as Boots restocked it. I layered Revlon Sparkling over the top to add an extra layer of dreamy unicorn prettiness.

Model’s Own Indian Ocean (NP133) from the Beetlejuice collection, and Revlon 261 Sparkling:

Born this way,

Hetty

I got so excited when I saw that Sophie Dahl is face of the new Aubin & Wills lookbook. I never thought I’d get excited about anything Jack Wills-related, but the barrage of A/W lookbooks about to descend signals one thing: Autumn is just around the corner. 

Each year, when September rolls round, people of Aberdeen are finally able to shrug off the pretense of being warm, and pull on a nice thick coat, without anyone making remarks about how it’s “summer”. Discounting a few gloriously sunny days, the thermometer has barely peaked 14º all season. 

I want to go on a damp woodland walk in a perfect double-breasted camel coat. 

Born this way,

Hetty

I wanted an easy bake where I wouldn’t be temped to sample the batter before baking; I’m terrible for eating chocolate cake batter or raw cookie dough and then having no appetite for tasting the finished product. I also wanted something that I could divide up among the various pockets of family, and that would keep well. I was going to make scones, but then found this recipe for a tea-infused loaf that is served at Fortnum & Mason’s Jubilee tea salon.

I loved the idea, but the recipe sounded a touch more Christmassy than I fancied, with the mixed fruit, marmalade and cinnamon. So, I only used raisins and cranberries, which I soaked over night in strong Earl Grey with some lemon peel. I substituted the marmalade in the batter for lemon curd, which I also used for the glaze, and did away with the cinnamon completely. The result was a light, crumbly loaf, with a sweet lemon tang and a wonderfully aromatic hint of bergamot from the tea.

Enjoy plain or accompanied by the spread of your choice, but I personally couldn’t resist gilding the lily with some salted Jersey butter.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

It’s official: the Greatest Tent in all the world is yellow and can be found in the ballroom of 111 Archer Avenue. There’s a pretty little light-up globe in it, and the Rolling Stones on the turntable. The second greatest tent in the world is more like a teepee constructed from duvet covers, and features in some rubbish Diaz/Law/Winslet affair.

Violet and I made a tent this week; the old clotheshorse-and-blanket method, of course. She was delighted with it despite its rudimentary, unimaginative construction, and I can’t wait for the little creative touches she can add to a tent as she gets older, if one were to become a more permanent installation.

Sources: 1, 2, 3.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

I got goosebumps within five seconds, and my eyes welled up at about 1:15. Happy comeback, Chan. I love you so much.

Chan Marshall’s first original material in over six years… Please, please, let the rest of the album be like this and as good as this.

Born this way,

Hetty

Jacket, Shoes, Trousers, Top (My necklace is from ASOS, but doesn’t appear to be on the website any more. My pin is a double heart with my blood type on it; it symbolises the link between donor and patient, and donating blood, if you can, is something I feel so strongly about.)

I doubt I’ll post many OOTD-style posts and there are a two sound reasons for this. Firstly, I never dress nicely. Seriously, I dress exactly the same everyday - the same way I have since I was about 13. Secondly, I can’t take good self-shots (I’m actually fairly slim and not even that short, all evidence to the contrary) . 

Born to be wild,

Hetty

What an utterly perfect day it was. There were eleven boats moored in the bay at one point, and two pairs of Vans filled with sand. Today is the first day of my life post-Olympics, so I need to find a new obsession and learn to cope with the fact that television no longer comes with commentary.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

19/11/1997 - 29/04/2012

My best friend, and first love.

After a fruitful day spent staring at my computer screen and tutting about the volume of other students’ headphones, I am now crammed into the dingy corner of my bedroom I call my office.

Of course, the evening I have planned is bound to be industrious, but to assist me in my studious endeavours I have:

A glass of Dr. Stuart’s Slim Plus tea to counteract the McDonald’s a struggled my way through this evening.

The (now discontinued) “Nero” candle by Boujies London: bergamot, black pepper, vetiver and amber.

Photos of my favourite boos. My #1 whilst in utero, and my #2 whilst in The Little Belmont Hut after pints of Guinness in Ma’s.

All I need now is my will to live.

Born to be wild,

Hetty

You know deadlines are looming when it’s a struggle to get a seat on the sixth floor of the university library. Here’s where I’ve spent the morning, and where I’ll be until my Papa comes and collects me at five o’clock.

I have:

A Royal Gala apple for 47kcal of brain fuel.

My bicycle notebook, which I write all my secrets in. (She’s filled with secrets.)

My turquoise lined Post-Its, so I can feel studious as I cross things off of lists.

A big cup of foam from the Costa Coffee situated right here in the business school. It’s meant to be a primo latte with sugar-free hazelnut, but as I can’t be bothered arguing with the battle-axe that runs the kiosk, foam will suffice.

A bottle of still Scottish mineral water. It’s such a thing to have Scottish mineral water in Scotland. Is it a total thing to have native mineral water everywhere else? Or does everywhere else just want Scottish water too? I can’t remember the last time I drank French water. That’s just no longer a thing.

Born to be wild,

Hetty