P Diddy

Break up confusion: part 1000 of 100,000,000

Putting things back how they used to be. Or not.

You will never normally intentionally change things about yourself in a relationship, some things you will. But when you break up, some of those qualities will have to go, just in order for you to cope with being a single you again. But also – whether the relationship was good or bad – you have to take some treasures and good qualities with you.

397039_10150538064873676_1388316972_n For example – I have learnt to not wear make up. Now, for some this is a little thing and you won’t relate or understand. But for years my previous boyfriend (who I was with for over 5 years) told me I was beautiful with and without make up on. He never wanted me to wear as much make up as I did. I never needed it, and I knew all along that I didn’t need it – but I still wore it. Anyway – it took one person, and just him, for some reason, to change how I felt about it. It could have been the way he first said it, the way he looked at me, the fact that he never stopped telling me. But here I am now, I rarely wear make up.

photo 1 When we were mad for each other, and I wanted him to know I would say ‘thank you’. He gave me the confidence, somehow, to be this person. To have the confidence to have a bare face.

photo 2 Here I am, he gave me, taught me – something. And no matter if I wake up one day mad at him for not being mine, or if I stay in this place of just missing him… I would be lying if I said I didn’t learn or gain anything from my relationship with him.

photo 3 For different people it could be ‘x’ ‘y’ or ‘z’ – but for me, I am grateful and very blessed to have had that person in my life.

photo 4 It is important to remember the good, and everything you did and gained from being together – but it is also okay to put things about yourself back to how they used to be. Not that your other half told you to not be that way, or stopped you from having those qualities, maybe they just weren’t necessary when you were part of a relationship.

photo 5– don’t second guess everything.

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It’s YOU.

You are what’s wrong with the world. And anyone that has listened to Baz Luhrman’s ‘Everybody’s free (to wear sunscreen)’ will know that you should stay away from magazines “they will only make you feel ugly”.

Now, I am about to take a different stance when it comes to the photoshop vs. skinny vs. fat vs. fake debate.

Britney Spears (I’m trying very hard to remove my hardcore admiration for her) she steps on the stage, looking AMAZING (taking note; she has had two kids and I have had none… She still looks better than me and I’m more than 10 years her junior!).

It should be no news to any magazine or publisher that majority of photo shoots, adverts etc. use photo shop. We all know this.

But please. Slam a person for going out and (from what I have read) putting on a fucking amazing show. She looked incredible, and most of all, happy – up on that stage. But there you go… With your quip.

‘Yep, that’s for proving us right (ignoring your talent) you did use photoshop and you aren’t that skinny’ – YOU ARE WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD (among other things).

We will never win.

End of rant x

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Maybe we could be each other’s soul mates

“Don’t laugh at me, but maybe we could be each other’s soul mates. Then we could let men be just these great, nice guys to have fun with.” Charlotte York, Sex and the City.

Lucky for me… I have my soul mate. But even better than that I am blessed enough that he will be there, for ever.

Months can go by, and a lot can change (believe me! I’m talking lovers, ex lovers, marriage, tattoos, weight, hair, and god knows what else) but there he is… My SOLE/SOUL mate.

6 years ago, god knows what month it was… I was put clubbing with a group of friends and my current boyfriend. I know exactly what I was wearing (high waisted harem black suit trousers, black Mary Jane Louboutins, low cut/low back white racer back ripped vest, and a very naughty, very see through, lace and silk bra; and of course, a chanel 2.55 – it will always be me to wear a vest that was slutty but I had picked up from a market in Vietnam, trousers from Topshop and then top the cost of my whole outfit by adding a bag and shoes!). Anyway; there I was walking along the high street of this little town that I had grown up in to go move my boyfriends car whilst he was busy buying everyone drinks… Who do I bump into? My love, my genie, Reece Morgan. Now what I haven’t mentioned is that – this club was full of nice girls dressed like hoochies! You would see a Chanel here, Kurt Geiger there, Prada there… But the main aim with these girlies was sluttiness and as you can probably tell; what I was wearing was sexy, subtle but never hoochie mumma! Maybe that’s why he chose me, only he could tell you that. The inimitable Reece. So there I am, treating the high street as a run way and I bump into an acquaintance, turns out he was heading to the same place I was drinking with his girlies. Before I knew it, 2 weeks later I was on a stone table, in a mesh body, with black lipstick, wet look black eyeshadow, slicked back jet black hair… Pouting and posing. And that was just the beginning…

Now, when I first came across Reece I just knew him to be an aspiring photographer with an amazing sense of style. It wasn’t until we had numerous Cosmos and Margaritas that I realised every element that makes him is pure fabulous. From his ever changing hair styles, ooh snap! To his huge collection of handbags from Louis Vuitton, Burberry, Chanel and Hermes. Not forgetting his irresistibly delicious personality.

Only Reece would turn up at one of my friends magazine launch parties in Mayfair and get papped on his way home, simply for looking so gorg and fabulous. As if! Crazy.

This man is there for everything whether it be a simple BBQ in the garden of my fathers ranch (me in flares and him in all black), drinks in Canary Wharf (me in 10 inch heels and him in vintage), winter cocktails in Covent Garden (me with my pink 2.55 chanel and him draping himself in fur), a burlesque show in the West End (me in all black apart from my rose gold courts and Michael Kors and him traipsing in Dior), a Cheryl Cole concert at the O2 arena (me in leather trousers and him holding a jug of Cosmo) or us trying to figure out a way to make pink fishnet mesh work in my dressing room.

But it’s not just the clothes, the memories and the designers, it’s the art – his art, my drunken ‘art’, the art of love (or trying I find it), our worshipping of art (whether it be SJP, bitching about Kim K, slamming Britney, or worshipping the queens of the red carpet and the skinny bitches behind a camera!). There is pure talent there, and not necessarily the talent that you make for yourself by having a subscription to Vogue, or trading in your mums vintage for the to-die-for-vintage, or dressing to impress… For me, he was born with it. It’s the air, the blood and all the different organs that put him together and create pure talent-full fabulousness!

Well ya know what, here’s to the men that have come and gone (and stayed!) for the both of us, the fashion faux pas (for the both of us!!) and here’s to the next 50 plus years where this (photographer, stylist, socialite, bitch, editor, realised) man will still be my soul/sole mate… Because no matter what happens I will be wearing my Louboutins as slippers and he might well be taking the trash out in his vintage Hermes.

Love you, DOLL.

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There for…

I don’t think many people ever have the possibility to realise what they mean to someone, until they are gone. When bad things happen; a friend, a lover, a partner, a best friend, a family member should be able to recognise or identify the moments in which they need to ‘pull their socks up’ and help you. It is true, many people come and go in everyone’s lives – but when they have been around for longer than you can remember, surely it means that you need to make an effort. Effort for them, for yourself and your relationship; whatever form it is in. The form of the relationship is not that relevant; all relationships need commitment, compromise and communication to be successful or to at least function positively.

tumblr_meat53MitS1qczne2o1_500Unfortunately when it comes to things like this, I can be quite naive and my expectations are set at a very high level. This obviously has limited the amount of people that I actually ‘let’ in my life. I have a very select few people that I would actually call my friend, let alone my best friend… or even confide a secret or a heartache to them. I don’t want people around me who only want to be around for the highs [which, in my life, can go SO HIGH, but that also means, I can go SO LOW]. My expectations push me to write cute notes in lipstick on the mirror in the bathroom for my housemate, making a cup of a tea, buying ice-cream or a cute new top they wanted; or even go as far as calling them from Vietnam when they are in the UK when their grandfather dies. So, when my mother is diagnosed with breast cancer, shockingly, I expect a phone call [at the least] – yes, I know there is the thing of the friend or person being able to ‘mind read’ but don’t play dumb or blind, because they know. Whether through word of mouth, or seeing it in your eyes. They know. The same way you knew their heart was breaking.

There can be mutual understandings in friendships and relationships, that you don’t have to speak to each other every day to know that you are there for one another. But in times of heartache, pain, celebration, success or death; you need to pick up the phone and say something. Mostly so that the person in the centre of these feelings knows that they are not alone, regardless of whether it is good or bad, happy or sad.

For the something’th time this year I have had to make a decision with myself and realise that a person isn’t good for me, that they are too in their own world of happiness and sunshine to be a good friend. I don’t intend on always being down, sad and dark but why the hell should I let you be around for the exciting happy times if you can’t help me to get there… I would do it for you.

screen-shot-2012-03-29-at-2-23-36-amI also have great understanding that everyone is different. That everyone has been brought up differently. Of course I am respectful of that, that’s what happens when you have friends that comes from different places in the world, different cultures and different family set-ups. BUT there are basic rules. Irrelevant is the fact that we have known each other for ‘forever’, that our mums are friends, or our boyfriends are best friends; these are not excuses or reasons to justify your poor level of effort.

How many chances do you give one person to be a part of your life?

Expectations are a BITCH.