"'I don't know why I bother."

A few days ago I ventured into town to grab some new pens to doodle with but before heading to the till I, quite obviously, detoured to the magazines. I was all wrapped up in the wonder of Taylor Swift covering the American version of 'Glamour' when seemingly out of nowhere a little old lady appeared next to me. She was rather frail and must have been around 80 years of age, but I noticed this only after I watched her pick up a copy of the latest edition of 'Talter'. The weight of the magazine looked a little overpowering for her, but as if she knew what I was thinking she told me with a little smile she didn't know why she bothered anymore, but it was quite clear that after all so many years the glossy pages she held were still her guilty pleasure. She informed me that she in fact had a token that enabled her to purchase it for only a pound ,and that was her excuse for her buying it. But her laugh told otherwise. It reminded me of the way my Nan excuses her lottery ticket buying for the excuse of possibly winning the millions! Or the way I justify a new dress for whatever occasion, no matter how minute, is soon to be on my calendar.

If you couldn't tell already, this little minute or so of my day really made me smile, and it reminded me to still keep finding pleasures in the most simplest of events. Although only speculating, I like to imagine that the lady has her piles of 'Tatler' stacked neatly somewhere, even from the very first issue she bought or was given. Maybe this magazine has been something she's enjoyed regardless of the storms of life, and even so many years later she still loves it. I'm hopefully for my future, and I like to think that I'll spend my pension on Starbucks and red lipstick, loving it just as much by then, as I do now.

I think my blog might just become dedicated to transforming the mundane.

What things will you forever love?

Boux Avenue: a note to self.

Jess,

Remember that when you next walk past the branch located in Liverpool One, you absolutely, most definitely, have to take a peak inside. I'd advise you cancel all plans before heading in, for you could be in amongst the wonder of Boux Avenue for quite some time. Between the friendly attentive staff, an expert bra fitting service and individuality named changing suites (lace, anyone?) you could quite happily spend your afternoon.

Also please take note that its a treasure trove for all sorts of delights. The little gifts, such as mirrors and mini perfumes that you can claim starting from just two round gold coins will have you questioning as to why your bag has been without them for so long.

The lingerie and lounge wear will also have you debating just how much you can justify buying, and if one in every colour is a little excessive? But the different ranges and choice of light settings within the dressing areas (day, dusk and evening) will have you hooked, quite possibly forever.

                          And if still not, I'm sure the cutest slippers ever will have your heart.

                And a final word is, remember to catch up with the lovely bloggers you met!

The lovely Heidi & Jade!

                                                                      xxx

Take a Trip: The Bluecoat.

In father Corcoran’s haste to kit me out with a new winter coat before even October was weeks away,  last Saturday saw us take a trip to the city centre to scout around the shops in order to find something we could both marginally agree on. He said no to leather and oversized, where as I shook my head and ran far, far away from everything he deemed suitable. We settled on a nice little navy blue number, complete with pleather additions, but I’m sure I’ll do an outfit post on it once the colder days decide to stick with us and it becomes my uniform that I only take off when I sleep. But of course, when wandering around town accumulates to a huge amount of mental shunning of my father’s style decisions what is required is to take a break of some form and head somewhere for lunch.

Queue a trip to the Bluecoat, which is like, my new favourite place ever. In search of something more then a slice of cake we first toured all the little independent shops and then chose the final door to satisfy our lunch desires, and we headed up past the poster filled wall I fell in lust with, and up to the charming bluecoat bistro.  As much as the brown leather couches were subconsciously calling me, I had to for once in my life confer with the essence of practically and select a table. I just can’t do that whole eating without something to lean on, probably because I’d manage to spill something  or drop something, or mostly probably a combinitation of them both.

From the chalk board we choose our calorie infused weapons. With Steve selecting a classic BLT on a wholemeal bread, and me finally deciding on duck spring rolls, we felt it was only a polite courtesy to indulge our curiosity with a portion of home made chunky chips.



The setting was lovely, and the place wasn't too busy. You didn't feel rushed, or that a conversation was a out of the ordinary affair. It was nice to be able to view the goings on down in the courtyard while trying out some of the food in the warmth. The staff were friendly and overall the atmosphere was definitely one I'd like to find myself in again.

The arguable point of the Bluecoat trip, the food - was lovely too. The prices were rather reasonable taking into account the place it is situated and the high quality produce and hand made elements provided.  Although I enjoyed it more then Steve, he too noted that it was "nice enough." With it being lunchtime we failed to establish what desert tasted like, but the chocolate cake I spied out of the corner of my eye seemed very inviting.

Overall, I'd recommend a little look around the Bluecoat if you've never taken the time too. The independent boutiques are a dream, and with the Liverpool Biennial currently on there will sure be something for you to feast your eyes on.

So if you do take a trip to the Bistro, let me know what you think. Steve and I certainly enjoyed it.

Her minds made up, She don't want to go steady. She's only 17, so she's probably not ready.

ladders in tights, ink stained bags, tears over the future. For me, the cracks in the apparent newness of September life are beginning to show. I feel stupid to play some innocence is bliss card, and masking myself in delusions of change is neither sensible, or even half useful. Summer is always signaled as some sort of break, the type of therapy the NHS doesn't offer, but instead I've entered a new academic year some how more internally wound up then when I left it. The causation of which I care not to mention, for I know, most of you probably care not to listen, but the result, is one I have a high distaste for. One of the things that might have possibly got me watery eyed in the common room this week is the fact that by a months time, I've got to decide how I want to spend my future earning money . And as much as I'd like to apologize for the in convenience I gather I'm probably causing to teachers, and fellow members of my form who have to hear my whines of various protests of not knowing, I'm actually not sorry in the slightest. Why at 17 should I know? Its not logical.

Don't get me wrong, because I know what I would like  in life. I'd like to some how change the world, in a little way. I'd like to help out charities, and I'd like to preach the message of the gospel. I'd like to work with disadvantaged children is war torn countries. And I'd like to write articles on my opinion, and have them published. I'd like to educate others on diversity and the importance of equality. I'd like to continue being a student ambassador for the Holocaust Educational Trust.  I'd like to march for Gay pride. I'd like to get married, have children, and live in a house with a red front door, I'd like to read the entire bible and I'd like to teach others that its okay to be different. I'd like to learn how to cook, and how to bake, and I'd like to grow my own vegetables. I'd like to compile huge lists, and I'd like to scrapbook everything that matters to me. I'd like to learn how to be more comfortable with who I am, and i'd to get better at listening to God.  I'd like to one day be overall leader of a venture, and I know at some point I'd like to be a youth worker in a church. I'd like to be able to live with enough income to be able to live without complete restrictions, and I'd like to be able to afford to buy my friends and family gifts, just because I knew they'd love something. I'd like to be able to laugh, and to love, and to explore. I'd like to visit New York City, and Paris, And Italy. I'd like to be an MP. And I'd like to road trip across America. And, I'd like to discover more about my mother.

But picking what to spend the next 3 years of my life studying about? Its not that I'm clueless, because I've been up till gone 2AM on the dreaded UCAS website searching and searching. Its just that, coiled up inside me is the notion that I'm not ready to decide just yet. I'm not ready to reel in my Naivety, or to stop dreaming of having it all. I'm not available for surrendering for the ordinary. And I am in no means capable of stopping my mind from wandering about everything, about being fascinated by anything. I can't just settle. This is not the time to be closing my eyes, and pointing to a star, hoping for the best. Its the time to get serious, to take September with both hands and start running towards my future career path. But I can't. Cause I'm not going to allow myself to be pressured into any half hearted decisions. I do what I want to do, and I do it with passion, but I'm not allowing for regrets years down the line.

I'll decide when I'm good and ready to, when I know what I want. Cause despite the red lipstick, big words and Costa trips, I'm still only 17. And in the eyes of the law, that's still a child. I don't want to grow up just yet, despite what September is bringing.

                                                                          xxxx

Polka Dots and Cappuccinos!

I've tried to come up with some fancy, intellectual deep sentence to start this blog post, in an attempt for you to somehow grasp the scale of philosophical pondering Hannah and I did while people watching from a window from the Costa of Huyton Village, but since I'm all out, you'll have to make as best use of this sentence as you can. 

Although our original intention for today was not to sip coffee and chat, but to instead take a trip to Matthew street, I thoroughly enjoyed our caffeine induced thoughts on pretty much everything more then a soggy august  day in the city center. The main subject matter ended up turning into analysis of the people around us, as well as our selves. I provided, what I hope to be insightful nuggets on subconscious self expression through clothing, where as Hannah indulged on the subject of conformity and new starts. I blame our church all girls schools partly for the way we've changed over the past few years. On my part, I think the regulatory and strict order of my school gave me a drive to be different and stand out, where for Hannah, it initially had the opposite effect of quite literally, conforming to the norm. (bet you can all tell my favourite subject is psychology)

But with her starting college soon, thanks to her 10 A*'s, yes, ten! It comes a time to break away and be bold. With this in mind as we strolled to New Look a little later in the day, I suddenly turned all random fashion TV programme on her and made her pick and outfit out for me, while I chose one for her! All photos taken of me are horrendously bad so i'll refrain from hurting your eyes, but since Hannah is super gorgeous its a must to see the before and after!

Here's the beautiful Hannah in her own outfit in which she looks like herself,

and here is her in the outfit I picked out for her. (Close friends of mine, note the Jess Corcoran pose)

Although Hannah was wearing burgundy jeans, me being a fan of colour, and texture and print made her tackle lace, polka dots and hot pink in a single outfit. Once upon a time i'm pretty sure that would have been too out of her comfort zone, but today she tried them on with little hesitation! She even bought the polka dot skirt, meaning i've successfully added 4 items of my own choice into Hannah's wardrobe over the past 18 months! 

This little style swap as a result of our deep wanderings was something I think we've both learnt a lot from. Although it may seem like its simply just fabric to some, it actually shows a lot about ourselves. I'm partial to throwing everyone into the deep end with everything clashing, believing I know whats best for them, revealing my selfish belief in myself as always being right.  Where as Hannah, who would have previously been more reserved was ready to take on the challenge set for her, probably brought about by her adjusting herself to the next few months of change and difference. She's going from uniform to whatever she wants to wear, different subjects, different friends, different time table. A lot of things are going to be new for her, and she's quite clearly relishing what is ahead. And as cheesy as it sounds, I'm so proud of her for leaving the past 5 years of familiarity for something different, as scary as it might seem! 

So I hope you enjoy college Han, here's to the many more Polka dots and Cappuccinos days we'll have over the next few years, don't ever change!

xxx

Blah Blah Blah.

I have to say that i think 'blahhh' should most definitely be classed as a legitimate word,  needing no other sort of formal explanation or introduction. See, I'm blogging in bed with my duvet wrapped around me, so yeah, blahhh certainly needs no pretentious elements or extra efforts to evoke a message of how I'm currently feeling. But just in case your not getting it, it might be handy to know that I'm makeup free, sporting unbrushed hair (I know, whats new?) and my biggest, most comfiest hoodie. Which is, in case your wondering, my Kidz Klub one, though you'll never see it because i refuse to wear it in public. I find it to be the most vile shade of blue, and the only person in the whole wide world that could ever put it off, is the legend that is Dave Collier! and well,  since I'm no Dave Collier, mine is reserved for the occasions of the following; blahhh.

Three hours sleep has left me with a major headache, temperature and only enough energy to type this blog post, (and tweet/facebook/tumblr/text but shhh!) and so I had to cancel my plans for the day. Oh, many vivid images of picturesque delights of a day in Chester with the extended family were blown to pieces come 6am. I even missed out on going out for teaa! And that may make me sound sad, pathetic and like I have absolutely no social life whatsoever, but who isn't partial to some hearty conversation over lovely food past 6pm? hmm, maybe in fact its you that needs to get out more...

I was gutted with my inability to greet August with at least a little joy, because the optimist inside me loves the dawning of a new month. No Joke, I positively adore the potential that a change from 28/30/31 to a single little 1 can bring.  Its a bit cheesy I know, but I can't help but have a burning admiration for the little things in life. Its like getting to be the first swipe of the knife on a new tub of butter, untouched before you make your mark. Just like a new month in someways. Utimately, your provided with 365 days to do something different, to be something new, to er, swipe the butter. But splitting up these opportunities into 12 handy snippets is a serious way to focus your attention.

So for me I guess its goodbye to blahh, regardless. And to instead embrace a new dawn, (a neww dayyy, a new life, forrrr meeee) and decide what I'm going to do in august. I don't mean keep my room tidy, or re arrange my furniture, but I mean which ways am I going to shape the mold of the coming days in order to change the world around me a little tiny bit?  I don't quite know yet. Do you?