Seven Henrietta Street

21 Sep 2014


Whilst sitting backstage at an event I've been working this weekend, I sat and read Kate Spade's 'Things We Love' from cover to cover. I loved it. This video - which is the epitome of girl power - was mentioned, and the quotes below were written in between playlists, and colours, and mini tales about everything, tinged with exquisite nothingness. Kate Spade is now officially my favourite designer. Well, for today, anyway...

A really great word: "Ellipses" comes from the greek élleipsis, meaning "omission" or "falling short."
Something to aspire to: "But he hardly heard a word they said. Any way he looked at her she was perfect."
One to think on (Related: For those of you wondering how the outcome of my last post went down, I reciprocated. It was all very sweet in the moment. And then, a week later, whilst standing in the street looking at me like I'd gone wrong when I showed signs of affection, he took it back. Turns out you can unsay those words.): "If only, I thought, I could talk to Eugene just one more time. This was before I came to understand that you cannot make someone fall in love with you. But here's what you can do. By arguing and pleading and screaming and crying and throwing plates and phoning a lot and bringing hot food and sending flowers and buying gifts and doing unsolicited favors and remembering a birthday and being nice and declaring your abiding love and trying hard or sometimes merely by being present, you can make someone who was hitherto lukewarm really detest you."

So there we have it. Regular updating will recommence in 5,4,3,2,1...

The Game of Love

21 Aug 2014

London Photography BlogSo is anyone else experiencing emotional whiplash when it comes to men right now? The rate at which these creatures change their minds is causing me muchos confusion, and has lead me to do unspeakable things in order to distract myself. Things such as watch all of the Twilight movies whilst manically grooming the cat, do a six hour deep clean of my bedroom (something that caused Tom to remark "Erm, WTF is going on? Did you kill someone?" Not yet Tom, not yet) and stay out until 5am with complete strangers playing Ping Pong and drinking Jagermeister.

One of the lashings this week has come at the hands of someone I care deeply about, and it concerned the L word. He used said word repeatedly, and then left. This was on Monday. We haven't spoken about it since. And I have to see him tonight. And that kind of freaks me out.

But that's not what I'm here for.

I'm here to ask you, my kind, emotionally stable, sometimes a little bit insane (love you for it) readers, what a normal reaction to the words 'I'm in love with you' actually looks like. Because I don't think I've ever had one. As a play by play, here is a breakdown of all of the first times someone has told me they love me:

Boyfriend #1 (musician, love of my life, dated for 4 years between the ages of 15 and 19 - this conversation took place on the phone)
Me: (In a jokey fashion) So are you in love with me yet?
Him: Yes, I think I might be
Me: OK COOL I HAVE TO GO NOW CYA BYE

Boyfriend #2 (snowboard instructor, possibly into men these days, though this hasn't been confirmed, dated for a year - took place whilst sitting on my bed)
Him: I love you
Me: Thank you.

Boyfriend #3 (advertising giant, best friend, cat lover, dated for just over 4 years between 20 and 25 - also took place on my bed)
Me: I have something to tell you, but I don't know how to say it
Him: Don’t worry, I love you too
Me: *Silence*
Him: … That is what you were going to say wasn’t it?
Me: Oh crap, yeah, sorry, I love you.

And, now, the latest (who I won't describe out of respect for the situation)
Him: I love you
Me: What, like as a person?
Him: No, I’m in love with you
Me: Ah.
Him: Do I need to leave? I’ll leave.
Me: Oh no, it’s fine.

... I have a problem don't I?

Please help me.

"We Want Something Real, Not Just #'s & Twitter"

15 Aug 2014

As I work in social media, I can't help but smile every time this song comes on - I feel I share a lot of views with this (beautiful, bearded) man, and yet I still sit here day after day "with hashtag's and Twitter, slowly dying in front of a f**king computer."

Have a listen, it's worth your time.

In other news: There is trouble in paradise in the CW household, with two out of four of us stuck in a never-ending argument. Due to the fallout, my Saturday night was basically this: "Vodka, anyone? Just drink the damn vodka guys, let's be friends. No? More for me then. Jager? Cool. Oh hey random stranger, my housemates are screaming at each other, can I have a hug?"
On a drink related note, I poured my first pint in around four years last week, and it was perfect. I then poured my second, and it was awful. I handed it to the bartender and ran away. You win some, you lose some.
An old man last night told me that "red wine is good for you, it keeps the rain out of your brain..."
... And I've watched so many episodes of Gossip Girl that I'm beginning to fear the unleashing of my inner Blair Waldorf. To anyone that has caused me to feel all woman scorned recently, watch yourself. It might be time for a little revenge...

XOXO, Gossip Girl


How To Survive, Pt.Two

7 Aug 2014

A quote relevant to the following post:

"Being brokenhearted is like having broken ribs. On the outside it looks like nothing's wrong, but every breath hurts." – Greg Behrendt

I recently wrote about having my heart broken. What I didn’t write about was having it shattered further, by the same person, a week later. About the sheer amount of KitKat’s I consumed whilst in recovery from a) an extremely loving/confusing day together and b) being told – in front of several mutual friends – that he had only ever spent time with me because “sometimes when you’ve been hurt, you need to hurt someone else just to know that you can.” Or about how I got over it.

Since that last post, it has come to my attention that a lot of us have just been dumped (what the hell is going on this year?). It has also come to my attention that every single one of us, without exception, has found a way to blame ourselves for it. To convince ourselves that we’ve done something wrong or, worse, that there is something fundamentally wrong with us as people. We’ve even managed to convince ourselves that the world is ending. That we can’t live without whatever dickhead it is that has done this to us. Because he is a dickhead. Nice boys don’t make you cry.

And so I am here, as someone who just spent the past two months spiraling out of control thanks to the poor behaviour of a man, to tell you that you will get over it. And to tell you how…

So you’ve just spent a good few weeks crying into your Doritos whilst listening to Adele on repeat – what now? Now, you’re ready not to grieve anymore. And once you’re ready not to grieve anymore, this is what you need to do:
- Delete his number. Unfriend him on Facebook. Permanently clear all call logs, text messages and Facebook conversations. Yes, even the ones that give you hope that it isn’t over. Especially the ones that give you hope that it isn’t over.
- Spend as much time as is humanly possible with your friends. This is a time when you will find out who your real ones are, and it’s important to pay attention to that. When you say to a real friend “but he told me he likes me more than the sun! MORE THAN THE SUN!!” she will say something along the lines of “eugh, what a tw*t.” A fair weather friend will have no sympathy. Recognise the true friends, and spend all of your days with them - dance, do shots, have fun.
- Make an effort to feel good about yourself. Brush your hair, paint your nails, and under no circumstances leave the house with panda eyes and donut icing in your hair.
- Find someone new to flirt with. The hotter the better. Bonus points if he lets you put glitter on his face, and sends you topless photos of himself holding a beer barrel…

“But it still hurts, why does it still hurt?” I’m not going to lie to you, some days I wake up and feel like I’ve been punched in the chest. On those days I find it is important to adopt the points noted above, and also to remember that it is not OK to:
- Scream "get a room!" at happy couples whilst walking around in a bathrobe and carrying a bottle of whiskey. This is not (500) Days of Summer, and you are not Joseph Gordon Levitt.
- Blame yourself. Is it your fault he has the emotional range of a teaspoon? No. It is not.
- Wear that t-shirt you haven’t gotten around to returning to him yet. Comfort is what cats are for. There are plenty on the streets if you don’t have one of your own.
- Drink yourself into an oblivion. Clearly, I'm OK with alcohol consumption, but there has to be a limit.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Er, yeah you can. And if you don’t believe me, you need to give these books a try:
- He’s Just Not That Into You
- The Rules

“So topless photos, huh?”
- Yep. Being single ain’t all bad.

“And what if I still can’t stop thinking about him?” 
- Try ending every positive thought with a negative. For example, follow “he was so sweet to me that time he made me a cup of tea in bed” with “but god it was annoying when he wallowed in self pity about things that didn’t matter” and “he was such a good kisser” with “but his habit of rolling over and almost crushing me in my sleep was a bit of a hazard, wasn’t it?”
- Seriously, topless men.

The point I’m making here, in a slightly tongue in cheek way, is that you will survive. You will get over this. And you will meet someone ten times hotter than the last one, that treats you better than he ever did. And in the meantime? You have your friends, you have your glitter, and you have the neighbor's cat (who you should probably return, because as a fellow cat owner I know for a fact that they’re starting to worry.)

...See you at the pub?

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