Styling: Top 5 Sweater weather outfits

This autumn/winter season and the one item you will be wearing is a sweater. So I went through my closet pulled a few sweaters and came up with 5 different outfits to wear this autumn/winter. 


I don’t really know how to start these post, I’m trying to get better at writing more styling/fashion post but I never really know how. I don’t want to say three lines then link you to some products–I’m not getting any money off it and if I say I got this at BLAH I’m sure you can easily find it.  Words are powerful thing and having a blog I feel it’s kind of like I am wonder women saving the world (it isn’t really I know). But like I said I want to put a different voice out there, I want to tell other girls & boys that its okay not to be like everyone else. And even thought time over and over again its said your clothes are a way of expressing yourself, fashion has always been this rebellious thing–people are still dressing the same; because of trends, not wanting to be an outcase and now with social media. I have nothing agents trend pieces, I bought myself fluffy sliders.  So how am I going to writing these post, i mean are you going to read it? People don’t seem to read things anymore, no time, too much effort, does it grab your attention, so many distraction–are you still with me because I have reached 250 words.

5 styling sweaters


Sweaters are pretty easy, like t-shirt and jeans, a little bit nicery though. The key to pulling off sweaters though, I think, is always accessories.




How you going to rock your sweater this autumn/winter?


They only care when you’re doing something wrong // but she was doing it all right ||  

Try putting everything I’ve seen, I’ve felt myself , what others have told me in this. 

They have something to say about how you dress, the colour of your hair. The tattoo on your body, that nose ring in your nose. Fact you speak up but your only really doing it for the likes. Or they call you a bitch for being honest. They leave you comments saying you’re too thick because you aren’t a size two.  Like what they say about you means something, it defines who you are–but that is bullshit.

Here she is being herself and they think what they have a say. That they can just belittle, bully her down, say mean things for what?! For their own stratification, because they don’t like what they see in the reflection. Because it doesn’t agree with them and their own style. Because all she is doing is being herself, but they don’t like it. They will only care when she is doing something wrong. But here’s the thing, she is doing everything right.

IT would be so easy to be like everyone else, to do what everyone else is doing, to conform, to stay silent, to follow the rules of the road, but that is no fun. And worst of all to fear backlash, comments, dislike, or opinions by strangers or people she knows only hurting herself. To lower herself, to be what they want to be is the worst.


Care  but don’t care about peoples opinions. 

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Also today is #internationalgirlsday the blog post is on FB page. 

A City Girl: Keep going backwards

I rewrote this a LOT….

Ireland vs. Minnesota and  back after living away for two years.  It’s been a year, so here is a little update (it’s long, I have a lot to say!)


I’m keeping the title the same from when I first wrote this post, because I don’t know what to call it and even though things have changed I still feel myself “going backwards.” I mean, I find myself back to where I was before I moved away.

Many of the things I will talk about here could be summed up as  #youdon’tlknowmylife. It’ll be hard to grasp because you are not me. I can only explain it the best I can and you can only try and understand. People might think they have the answers but it is one of those times where it’s on me. And all you really ask from people is to listen, be there, and understand. 

What hasn’t changed

After a year of living here I still haven’t found my places, I still haven’t found or formed a group I could meet for drinks (people like to brunch here and IDK I rather just have my pancakes). A lot of time I feel out of place and annoyed of how unfriendly this place really is, and I was born here. Or the opportunities here for creative fields are slim.

I’m still not feeling the best about myself–the waves come not as much as they used to, like every day. And it doesn’t help that I’m still not in that career job (more on that) or living in a place of my own. I am uncomfortable, my anxiety is more frequent, and I think we can all agree we feel more at ease when we are around people we enjoy, and in places we know.

REALITY check it’s hard for us 20 something adults trying to make it in the real world. And there are not a lot of creative jobs out there. and you do want to provide for yourself, have opportunities, see the world and live in the world and do what you love, with out the fear and feeling like shit living in it.

Me and MN just never belonged together I think. However, despite this feeling of disappointment and feeling stuck; maybe just maybe things are finally “happening.”

Things began to move

This is where things did began to move because I got a 2nd job that will give me the “experience” I’ve been missing, I believe. Because really, I’ve been applying to jobs for over a year and nothing has been happening. And not getting these jobs, interviews, or even an answer–I began to question myself.  I felt a lot a time a lone, which I know I’m not because I have the same conversation with girls my age A LOT.

A whole year with a masters degree and not doing what I went to school for, was disappointing. I started to feel like shit. Finally I feel I’m on the track I need to be on. I’m creating a lot of content and writing more to build up my CV. It’s not easy being a writer and getting paid for it.  I wish more people grasped that. Despite finally getting something that has put me onto the path I’ve been wanting to be on, there still that frustration and also tiredness of I have a masters and only getting part time minimal jobs. That BITES! Also running around feeling exhausted has giving me no room for anything else…

Let’s talk Blogging

Blogging has suddenly paused. I’ve fallen out of the loop with blogging and bloggers. There are days where I could be on top of it, but I’m tired, or the 6 hour difference struggle.  I love blogging  and well we all want what we love and enjoy to be our job.  I don’t want blogging to become something it isn’t for me, I don’t want to take on #spon, when it’s not right. And that hasn’t come yet in the swoon of random emails of products, companies asking for more followers (the behind blogging stuff).

I will always be honest with you guys. Blogging has really come to a hault a lot of days but some days it’s going. I’m still working on the balance and planning of two jobs, blogging and a life. 

Where am I now? 

I was told at work that I treat “Ireland like my home but it’s not” and that honestly bothered me, because (A) how many times have I talked about why I left because I was temporary?  I told them”I don’t think I do but you should try lifting up your life.” Because I wasn’t living out of a suit case in Ireland, I was improving my life.  And that’s where I am now, trying to get my life back and myself back.

How I miss the girl I once was and I want her back. Moving to Ireland probably was the best thing for me; I really became someone I never thought I would be and losing that affected my confidence in myself on so many levels. I was back on the couch binge watching Gilmore Girls the whole summer. And this girl I grew out of is some how back?

The truth is when you lose yourself in so many ways it’ll take a while to get to where you once were. I think this is where a lot of people get confused and I get tired of talking about it, because the only way to move on is to keep going forward. But I can’t help feeling I keep going backwards.

What’s next?

 I told myself another year in MN despite us not belonging together. Another year so I can start making BIGGER moves. You hear a lot of stories of a girl who started with a blog and now is a best seller–personally I want to be that girl! That’s my goal, I went to school for writing, I want to write. If it’s through someone else’s voice until my voice gets heard then so be it. I never went for Creative writing to write a novel but after this year the thought did cross my mind: “Maybe it’s time to write a novel”.

There is some sort of ‘plan’ floating around in my head, but half the time I have no time, I get stressed, anxiety and fear about my future hits me, and all I want is to live my life doing what I want to do.  State side is not easy going; I am not relaxed with work. And that’s what I miss a lot, the easy going life with drinks on a Monday night, hanging with friends in the Village on a Tuesday evening, stores closing at 6 pm week days.

So what I would like to happen next is to stop feeling this pressure;  I want to keep blogging; I want to see my writing in others’ hands in some form or another.  I want to keep working to have a career writing but I also want to live my life.  After a year of being back I honestly am ready to move forward and I think I can if I keep pushing myself further and don’t let my anxiety, fears, doubts hold me back. 
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Over all the biggest thing I learned is to put myself first and limit the stress I put onto myself. It is going to take awhile to put myself back together and figure out life; I need to take baby steps and find those happy things in my daily life. Take care of myself.

I do hope writing these updates aren’t like too much like a diary, but like all my other writings I have done on here it will let others know they’re not alone; they may say “that’s exactly it.” (If you’re saying that’s exactly it comment below with that’s exactly it! We girls (or boys) have to stick together.)






Bad date part 4: what does a girl want

From the perspective of a city girl

Disclaimer these bad dates aren’t suppose to be hating or anything on dating, men or anything. There mostly suppose to be funny and empowering for girls (I’m a girl).  Part 5 is something I’ve been holding off on because its an important topic of dating and/or relationships.  But first light and fluffy.

What does a girl want? A GREAT song and a good question. .I want to start Part 4 of bad dates with a little example…

one time I was on bumble and this guy asked me for drinks straight away, something I get but I really don’t want to do. I want to talk to the guy before I go meet him–complete stranger! But, I was actually honestly busy which I told him. He decided to offer that “we can just hook up if that would be easier”. He even offered to take me to Perkins. I KNOW PANCAKES! (sarcasm) I told him that if he wanted a hook up he could just go out and pick up a girl the usual way” HIS RESPONSE: “you’re just too hard to please, no drinks, no hooking up, I tried everything” MY ANSWER: :I didn’t say no I said my free days aren’t free at the moment. And hooking up is what ever girl loves to hear *insert the eye rolling emoji*” 

He might be joking. And me ‘calling him’ out he actually saw my point (rare thing) and wanted to start over, but I was kind of over bumble so we never talked again.  Despite a “joke” saying “you’re just hard to please” and telling a girl “we could just hook up if that is easier” IS NOT WHAT THEY WANT.

It would be so easy to tell you what a girl doesn’t want. A game, random out of the blue message of “what’s up” to an emoji after months of silence. A girl doesn’t want some guy to be passive or someone who is intimated by her. List goes on, but what does a girl want?


After a first date with a guy he asked me what I wanted out of this. A question that made no sense to me since this was the first date. And it seemed each time I went on date with a guy or even meeting a guy in the bar it came to this.  What does she want? Because obviously we want to have your babies right there.

What a girl wants with a relationship is more complex every girl wants something different out of a relationship, might be stability, someone to take care of them. Might be a family man someone who is going to take care of the kids. Someone who puts in the work to make things work. A guy who’s going to be there even when its shitty.

Every girl has imagine her dream guy. She has some sort of type; mines between Ryan Gosling and Zac Efron-but British. But girls rarely date there type, I know I haven’t except for hair colour. And I only get series with guys that I feel complete comfortable around-which in all honesty is a rare thing. You know your not going to get into a relationship with a guy who goes agents all your values. That is maybe why when dating I lay it right out there, this is what I value and if they don’t text me back well we didn’t waste our time.

Found on Pinterest. Can this guy be my next BF?!?! (he probably already has a gf because he’s perfect with that jean jacket, camera and sign) LOLS

Girls are stereotypical put in this complicated box of, she is not telling you want she wants. It’s in every romcom where the main character is a guy trying to understand his now X girl friend. But as simple as He’s Just Not That Into puts it for guys its the same for girls, “if she wants to date you she will date you.” Or your in the friend zone. *insert some football touch down gif*

We all girls want something different. And it seems with dating its getting harder to get what you want . So to answer your question. What girls want isn’t always a ring, a house or 40 years. When you meet a girl don’t expect her to be walking down the ale any time soon. Some girls, maybe even most girls, only want someone to join them on their adventures of life. But all girls want respect, which will bring on part 5 coming soon.


Lookbook: Zara Romper and my femininity

Lookbooks can either be just photographs that I love to look at but this one I’m not going to talk about my romper and why I’ve been loving it but how this romper is embrace femininity.


To start off the lookbook I’m taking a quote from a book I am reading called You don’t have to like me by Alisa Nugent: “make choices about yourself instead of following all the rules, and abandon the notion that you need to follow any path in order to be a “real woman!” (Introduction xviii) that quote and the title is more me than anything.

The question I am going to be answering here is “what can you, a girl, wear when you are a feminist-or have strong beliefs, thoughts on women’s rights and equality.”  Because I feel like some days I have to be wearing my slogan T-shirts that say things like “not your body” and “make a women cum for once” LOLs. Because when I wear a cute outfit people seem to be caught off guard when I speak my mind or say “I’m a feminist.” Its like I’m wearing a mask or some kind of disguise.


It seems to be a feminist means not shaving my legs- depending on the day and how I am feeling my legs might not be shaved, but either one I don’t think that defines me as a feminist.  I am a feminist who loves to wear a cute outfit, who loves to do here make up, who will not hate on boys  ( don’t underestimate me). I’m a feminist who puts on heels and I think the world needs more feminist like that.

Wearing my Zara Romper

…..doesn’t make me lower myself, but embrace myself. This pin strip romper can easily be taking something that its not. Wearing it not only embrace my womenhood (1) it also gives me this femininity empowerment. I rock the V-neck with no fear or care for those judgment or lingering eyes. It’s girly enough but I can dress it Indie or Grunge- my two main styles when I’m not in T-shirts or jeans.  Pair it with a long necklace and some brown shoes and some body tattoos or grunge it up with a chocker and a messy half pony. The cut outs and bow tie with the ruffle end shorts bring a different twist to this romper that someone can easily say “you shouldn’t be wearing that it showing to much skin.” I say HELL to that.

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We are taking back our style  as our own. For instance heels, a shoe can seen as something that is sexy, long gates our legs making the eyes linger. But now  heels are heard with empowerment and determination in the street, into a building, into the office. I’m seeing it in a lot of girls, 20 something ladies and women who put on an outfit and rock it- not too look cute but to be a women! We aren’t standing in front of a car half naked legs open, no we are on the front of Sports illustrative with our thick thighs. It’s not only in the clothes we wear, but in the action we take, the things we say. We aren’t some pretty little thing, we are women who mean businesses. The clothes can do all the talking but we take all the credit.

This romper is my own femininity meets feminist. It’s my feminist romper. When I put it on I feel good because I know what I look like. And no hooting or looks is going to change that. I wear the romper with a purpose to not hide who I am, even in this I could still through a baseball just as good as any guy.

Processed with VSCO with 7 presetOur style are joining the revolution of women. Taking what is ours back. Fashion is all about taking risk, going out of the normal, embrace the unusual meets chic so do it with a point that next time someone says you look good, make sure they know you already know that, and your also here for a reason.

The goal for each lookbook or picture I post with #wiw isn’t to tell you what I wear but to bring power and femininity back into ourselves through clothing. I’m a feminist with style.

  1. a word I never really understood or even liked, it sounded old to me. But now I have this new found meaning of womanhood. That wonderfully female feeling that is mine no one else’s it’s mine (yours) sexuality. 🖤
    A word that can easily be consider “dirty” for a woman. But it’s not! It’s how we feel. How we embrace ourselves. It is something that is hard to find and seize but when you do you’ll feel this sense of love and strength in yourself, your mind and body. And most importantly it’s yours. Remember It will never belong to someone else! ✨ what I’m saying is embrace you’re womanhood 👄 feel no shame & if others try to demean you or put you down well….that says a lot about them selves also shame on them!




A Night Out.

A story inspired by my own castle ❤


A Night Out

By: Kole.


The night sky seemed clear but it was pissing rain. The street lights reflected on the ground as the ‘don’t’ walk blinked red on the zebra crossing. The girls sprinted across the street, covering themselves with their jackets so their hair that took ages to get right and the tan that took effort to put on wouldn’t be ruined.

Eleanor and Neve just laughed as they made it to the other side, barely.

It was a Saturday night and Washington street was brighter than ever. It could have been mistaken for New York, if you didn’t know any better, for the girls were just in Cork, Ireland. To Eleanor it was her city of lights. Eleanor was young, about 22 years old, she was raised in England but recently moved to Ireland. She left her family, that was splitting into two, for Dublin, but she hated it there. She was a forgotten girl in such a big city, which just wasn’t Eleanor. So, she headed to Cork, where she met Neve.

The girls headed over to Reardens, no better place to be on a night out.  You could hear the music playing and the people from the street. To Eleanor Reardens was her castle and she was the queen. It was the place she and Neve met; they had a mutual friend and hit they it off right away, which was new to Eleanor; she wasn’t use to having a lot of girl friends or friends for that matter. Eleanor was pretty, but she quickly learned the cost of beauty. She started modeling at the age of 12. With the uniqueness of her bright blue eyes and deep red hair she got a lot of attention. But, she had never wanted that attention.   

“ID’s” the bouncer said.

Neve dug for her’s while Eleanor swiftly handed her ID to him. The man looked at the ID then at her, eyeing her up and down; not in a creepy way but in a confused way. A girl like Eleanor should be sweet talking her way in, she didn’t need an ID.

“There you go,” he said nodding them in.

Eleanor reached out for Neve’s hand as she was known to get a little lost sometime. Eleanor walked past everyone like she was squishing a bug, eyes glared at her, looking her up and down. Eleanor took no notice; she was used to eyes looking at her that way. It was her job that made her this way.

“What you want to drink?” Neve asked, yelling over the music.

“I’ll get it,” Eleanor said, pushing her way to the bar for the people had their drinks and needed to move, “Four Vodkas.”

“Four?!” Neve questioned, “who else is drinking?”

“We are going to double fist them so we don’t have to come up here again!”

“Good idea.” Neve said, pulling out her phone.

Neve was real, she was down for anything. She wasn’t afraid to do things, she had no worries. Her fucks were at the door.

Eleanor got the drinks, handed two to Neve, and  her eyes wandered around the bar. That’s where she saw him passing her. Black jacket, brown hair boy with a look about him that showed he was trying to be tough; yet, he wasn’t tough at all. “Him,” Eleanor said to Neve.

“Him?” she question.

He walked right by taking no notice of them, which was fine with Eleanor; she liked a challenge.

“Yes him, let’s have some fun.” Eleanor said. Eleanor had confidence; it’s something she always had, even before modeling.

Eleanor grew up with her father always taking pictures of her and her siblings, he was a photographer, one of the best in the business. He did everything from print, to high fashion, to travel. He met the queen once to give her a picture he took while on a shoot on a Safari in South Africa.  And after doing so many low key shoots at age 15 she got her first real break in Cosmo. She walked in and they destroyed her; telling her she wasn’t thin enough, her hair was all wrong, her face was uneven, and the criticized the way she stood. And what did she do, she looked right at them and said; “There is nothing I can’t do.” and walked away. That walk got her that job. After that no one seemed to find anything wrong.

Eleanor was a wanted girl by everyone that by 20 years old she was lost in a world she never wanted to be in. Her mother was the big push behind everything she did. And soon that was what broke her family. However, before it broke Eleanor loved modeling. She loved the clothes, the places she got to go, the people she met and worked with, she loved the opportunity she got. But it wasn’t all glamorous. She, unfortunately, got caught up in it, just like her mother had.

 No one knew she left London. Her mom thought she was working somewhere in Germany or the Netherlands. Her father wasn’t even in London; he left to his family village with her siblings after she told him about her mother. He was upset with Eleanor for telling him.


The girls walked over to a free spot near a mirror; they stood there for a while talking  until they heard the song and the girls looked wide eyed at each other and with no words they headed straight to the dance floor, placing their now empty drinks on the table, as they moved their way through.

Eleanor turned her head, the rebel without a cause boy was right behind her. He was with a group of lads; he wasn’t out for the shift or a score, which intriqued Eleanor. Eleanor turned around grabbing Neve from behind, pulled herself through the lads saying, “Sorry boys,” looking at the boy. He had dark mixed coloured eyes. He moved to the side, staring at her. She smirked back, moving Neve and her right next to the lads to dance and waited; it was his turn.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Eleanor,” she said smiling, putting out her hand to shake his, still dancing with Neve who was not paying any attention, she had a boyfriend.

“I’m Ronon,” he said.

“Hi,” she smiled. The boy looked down and then right at her, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t seem awkward at all, he seemed confident, sure of himself, but there he was not looking Eleanor in the eye. “Are you out for the night Ronon?” Eleanor asked.

“Yeah, nothing special just the lads out.”  He took her hand and pulled her away from the dance floor to sit on the back seats of the dance floor. When Eleanor saw something she liked she went for it. And the boy couldn’t say no. She looked back to see if Neve was alright she put her thumb up. She was dancin’ away with those lads now.


People would always tell Eleanor how lucky she was; they’d tell her she was so pretty over and over again. It felt like a blessing at the same time a curse. While growing up her family was pretty close. She and her siblings never wanted to leave the house without each other. They went on family road trips to the countryside after they moved to London. Weekend trips away as a family were the best part. Laughing and smiling, her parents looking at each other like lovers do in movies. Having her family, her parents, that love made all the hardships of her life worth it. However, things began to break. First it was her relationship with her siblings, because she hardly ever saw them. She didn’t go to school with them, she had no clue what was going on in their lives–she couldn’t bother either if they asked. For Eleanor had her pictures on billboards across the world. Then the weekend get aways stopped, her father even talked about selling the house in the countryside. And then her parent’s relationship began to ruffle. Her father would kiss her mother on the cheek while she didn’t even look at him. And Eleanor didn’t even notice because, like her mother, she was lost in her own world to see what really was happening.


Ronon sat down on the coaches on the side of the dance floor, holding Eleanor’s fingers.

“I don’t dance,” he said pulling Eleanor in between his legs.

“That’s a shame,” she said, smirking at him. He, of course, didn’t look like a guy that did dance; he had two left feet Eleanor guessed. That was fine with Eleanor because she would rather dance on her own.   And she did. She just danced with Neve and his friends as he watched.

One night, four years into her modeling career, she was out at a dinner party, celebrating her probably biggest break ever, walking in both London and Paris fashion shows.  Eleanor was sitting at a table next to a boy, they’ve been flirting a lot, sending text messages back and forth. It all was harmless fun, but they never got to actually be in the same room with each other until now. His hand was on her bare leg moving up and down getting closer and closer under her dress each time.

He leaned in whispering some sweet words into her ears, kissing her neck. Eleanor laughed looking over to her mom. Her mother was getting felt up by her manager across the table. Her ring still on her finger, right in front of everyone Eleanor called friends, people she worked with. She thought about her father, and the look her parents once had for each other. She thought about when she was younger and how happy she had been. She thought about the words people used to describe her. Then her thoughts went to the guy, who wasn’t even her boyfriend, as he slipped his hand up her dress. Eleanor pulled away from the guy; he looked confused, as she got up.

“Where you going, babe?” he asked. She looked down at the boy with his perfect jawline and silver blue eyes and knew, she was nothing to him. He desired her; he did not want her.  

She said, “Don’t call me babe.” And the next morning she was on a flight to Dublin.


“I have to go to the bathroom,” Eleanor said to Neve grabbing her hand, pushing herself through people to the bathroom.

“This guy is 50 shades Greg,” Eleanor said closing the stole door behind her

“Greg? You mean Grey?” Neve said.

“Yeah that, did you see him?”

“Yeah, and when you pulled me away he turned to the girl next to him.” Eleanor rolled her eyes, “He’s drunk Ele, and so are you. Are you expecting to find your prince charming here?”

“Nooo,” she said thinking back to her model, not boy friend. “But he is cute and I don’t know, there’s something.”

“That he’s cute!”

“Yes and I kind of just want him, like not only for the night. And if that’s what he wants well, he can have it with someone else.”

They both laughed.


Eleanor walked out of the bathroom and sure enough Ronon was talking to the girl next to him. But, as she walked over to the group of lads Neve was talking to she felt someone hit her legs. She turned her head slightly; it was Ronon trying to get her attention. “Yes?” she asked him.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“The bathroom.”

“Sit,” he said, drunk. He couldn’t keep his squinting drunk eyes off her.

“What you want Ronon, you’re friend is getting jealous.”

“What friend?”

“The girl,” she said leaning over the girl, “is he your friend?” she asked.

The girl didn’t say anything. Eleanor felt like a bitch, but the drunk mind was taking her own.

“She’s not my friend.” he said.

“You can’t just pull me in after talking to her like that’s not nice.”

“I want you,” he said.

“Oh really?” How?” she asked.

“You’re interesting girl Eleanor,” he said.

“You haven’t even heard my story.”

He didn’t say anything he just pulled at her and kissed her. She kissed him back, even though his hand slide up and down her leg, even though they were drunk and he was just talking to another girl. Eleanor didn’t care he wanted her for not because she was some thing on a billboard, or labeled as this beautiful thing. He wanted her for he was  interested in her.

All night they were chatting and shifting in the corner. It wasn’t love; it was far from it, but it was the first time in a long time Eleanor was finally happy and she finally felt like she was wanted for herself.

“This is nice, you should hold onto this,” referring to her necklace. It was a little leaf feather gold chain she had gotten at TopShop one day.

“WHAT?” she said, not understanding what he was on about.

“I…I like this, it’s cool.”

“Yeah, I like feathers,” she said.

“You should hold on to this it could be–”

“You’re not good at this are you?” she interrupted him.

He rolled his head back knowing that she called him out on it, but instead of answering he kissed her and it was a good kiss at that. She wanted to keep kissing him and he wanted to keep kissing her.

“You’re interesting, Eleanor,” he said pulling away.

“Am I so?” she asked right back, looking into his ocean blue eyes.

There was a smile on Eleanor’s face. It was getting later in the night and Eleanor wasn’t going to let herself fall, not this way. She pulled Ronan away and looked down at her phone it was ten minutes to midnight. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” she said looking at him.

“Okay fine,” he said, looking somewhere else as he digged in his pocket, “before you run off, give me your number okay?”

She typed in the numbers and handed it back, kissing him one last time before letting herself go. Because at the end of the night she was going to be the girl that was going to leave, and if they wanted her they would have to come find her.  

“See you girls,” the bouncer said as they left.

“Bye captain,” Eleanor said.

“Next time lads,” Neve said.

Eleanor walked besides Neve down Washington street, drunk, laughing about the night.  She looked down at her phone; there were five missed calls from her mother, one even from her father. There was a text, too. Her dad apologizing hoping she was alright. And one from her mother asking where she was and why she wasn’t at the shoot two weeks ago.

Eleanor sent a mass message back, “I left London. I’m not coming back. I’m finally me.”  She had finally found who she really was. She discovered what was real through Neve. And, here on Washington Street was her place, this was her night, this is where she belonged.

Thank you for reading x 

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OOTD with Reality check.

Reality Check. 

I see a lot of people post there OOTD, which is fine, but if  I shared every outfit I wore it wouldn’t be that “fashionable” or even exciting. When I’m home home and not going anywhere or if I would run to Target, I rather just throw on clothes. And those clothes are on my floor. One day, the day I got this idea for this post was a day were my period was at its

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absolutely worst! Think my body has gotten use to the medication I use to help with my cramps and period, that one full day all I want to be is in a ball. Who wants to wear clothes? And if I went out and took photos or even tried with my outfit you won’t even know, unless I put in the caption and then would you even read it?  Here’s a hint, I do go out and take my photos. Because when I go take photos it isn’t for an OOTD it’s for content–but also for visual story to go along with my blog if thats to post it on instagram or along with a blog.

There are a lot of photos on instagram that are “fashion” and “ootd” related. Nothing wrong with that, I love clothes. But the reality is that there just clothes and instagram, clothes company and those people wearing those clothes hit the marketing mark when it comes to our love for outfits. It started with magazines with articles about clothes, 7 day outfits with 5 items. But with instagram its almost putting this real stamp on it, like these aren’t girls or guys you see in magazines these are every day people. Reality check, they really aren’t, not anymore. And think that just shows how we should assume what we see is what actually is. Like some photos me and my friend had a debate if they actually wear those outfits out. More power to them if they do.

This post is very short to basically remind people that what we see on instagram or on a blog, even in video isn’t the whole story. I am an open book, but I like to remind people that there are secrets between each page. Have you study English you know that is true; a book has a lot more to then the words on the page, the time it was written, what the author was going through, the time the book is place or where its placed. You may think you know but you have no idea. So even though tons of people are shouting and calling BS on themselves, instagram, the truth is the more we scream it the more it’s like calling Wolf. Instead just be, don’t say it, don’t hashtag it, just be it and if someone needs a reminder I’ll take them back to this post that’ll say:

The only thing fake about me is my hair colour, I’m human perfectly imperfect. 


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