Make ends meet?

I have to admit, I'm pretty awful when it comes to money. I have a £2000 graduate overdraft and £500 on a credit card. I currently live with my beau in the Northern city that is Newcastle, which costs me £500 a month all-in. I'm supposed to be taking T/O to save for a capital move, but due to finances any saving has yet to happen. I have a phone contract, a gym membership, a Vogue subscription and too many forthcoming holidays than my measly budget will allow. How do I make ends meet? Well, my part-time job selling sexy shoes at Office is hardly raking in the pennies, what with it being minimum wage and all. Inevitably, I have had to find an alternative method of raising dollar when the going gets a little tough.

However, before I indulge in my secret, I feel I must first take you back to the root of my financial problem. It all started with the first instalment of the ever so tempting student loan. In a wave of first year naivety, being carried away with the carefree lifestyle and due to the fact that my bank account had quite frankly never seen so much money, I adopted an unfortunate attitude that my money was endless. Topshop's 20% discount student night seduced me within the first few weeks, and I left, goodie bag in tow, weighted down by my shopping bags. My card on the other hand, left £300 lighter. And it seems it has been a downward spiral from there. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a shopaholic: I don't have debt collectors knocking at my door a la Rebecca Bloomwood from Confessions of a Shopaholic (although I was recently appalled to discover this fictitious individual's life parallels mine (almost) down to a T, career aspirations and all...).However, in order to somewhat redeem myself, I feel I need to highlight the fact that my loan did go on more productive things than topshop.com. Since the beginning of my degree, and since graduating, I've been to Benicassim festival three times, to Glastonbury, to Leeds festival, to Barcelona and Valencia, and to Canada and New York. I've also been to London countless times, to Cambridge, Manchester, Edinburgh, York and Liverpool... I've been to gigs and I've been to ballets. I like to go to exciting places. I like to have things that I like. I have a tendency to constantly want to live beyond my means. I could have not been anywhere and not bought anything and put it all in savings, but I am of the belief that I would be miserable, saving my money for a rainy day.

And so, with my big-spender(?) attitude, how exactly do I make ends meet, when I have bills coming out of my bank account before funds have even gone in? The answer is Ebay. Ebay, to me, is like the holy grail. It gives me hope when my funds are low and when my bank account is in the red. Every so often, when I need a bit of extra cash for rent and bills, or for Christmas and birthday presents for my nearest and dearest, I have a wardrobe clear out and sell some of my unwanted belongings in order to raise a bit of extra sterling coin. Ebay is my trusty financial ally, and it has never failed me yet. With every clear out, I manage to raise around £300, which isn't too shabby given that I only list a few key items at a time. The best sellers tend to be everything vintage, especially furs and sequins (my old faithfuls), and accessories. I've had so many of my car-boot online clear outs, I'm becoming a bit of a pro. It sounds cheddar cheese, but I know what people want. I know how to list items and how to woo buyers with the description, I know how to photograph (always use a model), and I know to keep postage costs relatively low. I know to have a low starting bid and I know not to use a reserve. I wrap items I sell in tissue paper and include a handwritten thank you card as a personal touch, which seems to be appreciated given my 100% feedback. 

Yet, the irony of this is that if I wasn't such a spender to begin with, I wouldn't have anything to sell. Talk about a catch 22. And yet it works for me: I clear out my wardrobe at least once every season, to raise extra money to top up my minimal earnings from my poorly paid job, meaning I can go places, do things, and ironically, buy new clothes. I am on the lookout for a job that will guarantee me more money every month, but even then, I still think I'd rely on Ebay for a bit of extra pocket money. But until I manage to get myself a nice salary so I can save up and make the big move to London to be the journalist I want to be, I shall continue to clear out and await Paypal funds, to patch-work together the very separate bits of fabric that constitutes my financial situation. I'm currently in the middle of a clear out as we speak as I'm saving for an impending trip to Paris, where I'll go and probably buy more items that will end up on Ebay within the next couple of years. It's the circle of my life and finances, or at least it's the circle of my wardrobe.

J'adore le 1960's.

With my impending trip to the capital city of romance becoming ever closer, I am recently finding myself more and more wishing I was Carey Mulligan in An Education. Not only is she one of my women of the moment (see last post), An Education is also one of my favourite films of recent years, combining traditional 1960's chic with Parisian culture and the vulnerability of a young girl swept off her feet by an older man. Although the dream-like bubble of Jenny's exciting lifestyle does eventually come crashing back down to reality, An Education gives both an escape from the monotony of one's everyday life with a much-needed reality check in the end, making it the perfect viewing for dreamers like myself, who regularly dream of escaping away from everyday regularity in order to experience and travel the world. No matter how you jazz it up, the reality is that a 30 year old man seducing a 16 year old girl is never right, however just as Jenny was seduced by the high life, I was too. As a result, I fell for Jenny, I fell for An Education, and I fell even more head over heels with the 1960's.

Part of An Education's appeal for me is the 1960's setting. A huge fan of all things vintage, the 1960's is one of my favourite decades; with style still maintaining the classic and traditional Hepburn-esque look of the 1950's with the emergence of the somewhat freer mini-skirts and shift dresses alike. I love the classic cars of the '60's and I love old bicycles, and I think, in reality, if there was ever a previous decade which I would like to have been alive in, it would definitely have been the 60's.

And although this wish is somewhat impossible to fulfil, all is not lost. With the vintage trend becoming ever more popular over the past couple of years, original 1960's pieces are now easier than ever to find, especially with the likes of Ebay, which delightfully gives you access to vintage from all over the world. The high street is taking note, and vintage replica's are found in everywhere from Topshop to New Look, the former producing beautiful Chanel-esque boucle jackets that would not have looked out of place in '60's Paris. Fashion is one never-ending cycle, and new trends are only ever developed, transformed versions of former trends from previous eras, meaning that 1960's style was in in the '60's, and is now, and probably will be in another fifty years time. So although I will never be able to live Jenny's lifestyle in the actual '60's, I can still pretend and dream, with original one-off vintage items and '60's-esque items being so readily available to me.

Satchels galore.

 Luckily, the Cambridge Satchel Company offers the classic 1960's schoolgirl staple.

Holly Golightly.

 These Dior cat-eye sunglasses are bang on '60's style:

Also available in tortoiseshell (my fave sunglass print).

Lomography provide original '60's looking camera's that produce gorgeous-looking photographs, on film of course.

Lomography Diana Dreamer. How divine.

If you want a classic mac to go with your classic car, then Burberry is your only answer.

Emma Watson, looking quite the babe in her Burberry with a 60's pixie crop.

And for accessories??

1. Vintage Patent Leather Handbag; 2. Dior Cat Eye Sunglasses; 3. Chanel No.5; 4. Vintage Cigarette Lighter; 5. Antique Camel-Back Settee; 6. Vintage Lamp; 7. English Coffee Pot; 8. Nordstrom Keyhole Gloves; 9. Armitron Black and Gold Watch.

In the end, of course, Jenny had to go back to her Penguin Classics and leave the Chanel behind. Luckily for me I can watch An Education again, and again, and again. And I, like Jenny, will be seduced by the high life and the 1960's again. And again. And again...

Woman of the moment.

I have a full-on girl crush on Rosie Huntingdon-Whiteley.

Not only is she supermodel extraordinaire, she's also about to embark upon world domination by replacing the luscious Megan Fox in the next installment of Transformers, and has dated the beautiful Oliver Martinez, ex-lover of Kylie Minogue. She has appeared on the covers of British and Japanese Vogue, and emulated Jessica Rabbit on the cover of Love, another Conde Nast publication. She is the only British model to model for Victoria's Secret, and has appeared in advertisements for Burberry and Ralph Lauren to name a few. She was also named 6th on the Harper's Bazaar's Best Dressed list in 2008, and it's easy to see why with her bohemian-chic wardrobe.

When typed into Google, Rosie's name is the first to appear on the suggestions list. Shockingly, uber supermodel Kate Moss doesn't even appear, being pipped to the post by Queen to be Kate Middleton, Kate Bush and Kate Winslet...

What more could a girl want?!

Vogue's interview with her in the latest edition has made me positively green with envy and pink with lust. Not only does Rosie have a Jessica Rabbit-esque face and amazing hair, she also has the legs of a gazelle and the boobs of Geri Halliwell, with a leopard-print Mulberry Alexa and 'several' Burberry mac's in her wardrobe. I am jealous with a capital J.

Rosie is the epitome of perfection, and subsequently she is my woman of the moment and girl crush. Rosie, can I just be you please?

Hello fur!

Baroque love.

Hey sexy.

Marie Antoinette eat your heart out.

Hello Jessica Rabbit.

A city lacking in... vava voom??

I've got to tell it like it is: I love Newcastle. For the duration of my degree it welcomed me with open arms, becoming the city that I call home after a mere year of being there, and the location of so many fond memories. Nostalgia aside, Newcastle is a city that is full of charm. The buildings are archaic and beautiful, the coast boasts fabulous flea markets for picking up bits of tat (I love tat), and some of the best fish and chip shops I've ever had the pleasure of encountering. Newcastle also has that oh-so working class charm which is ruggedly delightful, and the Geordie accent appears to have non-Geordie's all in a flutter. It also has beautiful parks and is renowned for its amazing nightlife (supposedly Newcastle is the binge drinking capital of the UK...). It has its cobbled streets and its charming nooks and crannies, and the traditional Newcastle houses are full of character and period features. It has some great venues for gigs and it has Evolution, the music festival, on the Quayside every year. Just over the water in Gateshead is one of the biggest shopping centre's ever, and Eldon Square has just undergone a major overhaul.

On paper then, it would seem that Newcastle was a city that was thriving. However, in reality this is not the case; instead it is a little lacklustre, a little, to put it simply, flat. The reality is that the credit crunch seems to have had more of an obvious effect upon the city than anywhere else. The city is lacking in individual, quirky little shops, cafes and bars: shops which are the most likely to suffer in a city in economic turmoil. Newcastle is a city that survives only on the high street, but even then the choice is pretty limited to say the least. There are so many cutesy venues that would be ideal for vintage boutiques and antique shops, but they just don't seem to appear too frequently, and when they do they don't survive for long. It seems a shame that lunch out usually means visiting Pret or another coffee chain. There are no quirky cafes to eat in and no fab vintage shops to shop in. There is no Newcastle equivalent of Manchester's Northern Quarter: an area rich in indie bliss and vintage heaven. Don't get me wrong, there are little antique shops. Attica is positively amazing, and Chillingham collectables is full of so many amazing trinkets that I would sell my soul to own them. Nevertheless, the former is a vintage shop stocked with such amazing stuff that Newcastle would be in mourning if it closed, and the latter isn't even in the city centre... And whereas the Hummingbird Bakery thrives in London's Notting Hill, with queues snaking its way around the antique stalls of Portabello Market, Cake, Newcastle's equivalent with an oh-so original name, stands empty for most of the day. Best Vintage definitely does not stock the best vintage, with the majority of stock being old items that have not sold for a reason. This has resulted in several downsizes since I first arrived in Newcastle back in 2007, and probably the reason the venue also smells of mothballs and Eau de old man.

Newcastle is in need of a shake up. The venues on the cobbled streets are going to waste, and as a result, the indie scene is somewhat dead, as is everything remotely quirky. Visiting any other city; York, Manchester, Leeds, London, Cambridge, Edinburgh (I could go on), tea rooms and vintage shops are in abundance, and so it is somewhat shocking that they all seem to be failing in Newcastle. And as a result, there is nowhere to browse and nothing interesting to look at. The vintage shops source their stock on such a irregular basis that you are pretty much guaranteed to see the same items every time you go in, even if your visits are three months apart... Which inevitably means a lack of profits which therefore increases the chances of the vintage doors closing forever.

I could go on, as this is something I feel quite passionate about. I feel like Newcastle needs a fresh set of eyes; one that will breathe youth and passion and reinvigorate the city. I feel like it needs a shake-up, however until someone stands up and acknowledges this (someone who can do something about it at that), that the city will remain flat, lifeless and very much mainstream.

The city has the potential to house beautiful shops, cafes and bars as shown below, which would help to give the city its mojo back. Now all it needs is someone able to make the change...

Ruby Blue, Carlisle

Another Ruby Blue shot.

Vintage in York

Scarlet Ribbons, Durham.

When it is good, it is very very good, but when it is bad it is wicked...

Carrie & Co are reknowned worldwide for inspiring haute couture and high fashion looks on an everyday basis. Carrie was proposed to with a pair of diamond encrusted Manolo Blahnik's and attempted to marry Big in a wedding dress donated by Vivienne Westwood from a Vogue shoot. She actually married Big in a classic vintage two piece and said Monolo's. Nevertheless, the style budget for the first SATC movie was huge, what with Dior shoes, Louis Vuitton bags and Christian Lacriox dresses, to name a few.

So, how did a show which put Manolo's on the map have such bad wardrobe disasters throughout the series? Of course, with the shows success the budget grew, but even with a small budget, there is, in my opinion, no excuse for purple bandanna's and denim dungarees.

So, I decided to compile a list of some of the worst, and some of the best, outfits.

As standards go, I will give you the bad news (/looks) first, in the hope that they will eventually be redeemed by the good...

Wrong on so many levels.

Fancy dress? Unfortunately not.

Bare midriff and matching waistbelt?

Carrie the Bavarian maid; Miranda the French and Samantha the drab.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. The Dior shoes even fail to save this disaster.

Super Mario?? You'd think so. The horrific Adidas shell toes are the only escape from this blue mess.

Blue leather trousers. Enough said.

I actually struggled to find one of Charlotte's wardrobe disasters. Maybe she, rather than Carrie, is actually the best dressed? It seems somewhat surprising that Carrie has had the most wardrobe disasters of them all. Although, even with her tie-dye leggings, nothing can be as bad as Miranda's lesbian not-so-chic builder look. Even her masculine business suits in season one weren't bad enough to completely offend me.

However, luckily, where Carrie occasionally fails, she also triumphs twice over. There were too many of my favourite looks to include, so I'll give you a snippet of my favourites.

Loving the 70's earthy colour palatte. The pleated skirt and leather jacket combo is a winner.

Heart this jacket so much. American Apparel did a copy.

Said Manolo's.

NY Fashion week, and their fashion triumphs. LOVE Samantha's coat and Charlotte's bag.

Charlotte York is the epitome of two-piece classic chic, even if she is matchy matchy. Carrie doesn't look too shabby either!

Christian Lacriox dream.

Textured and beautiful.

The jacket somewhat spoils the dress, but regardless, Carrie looks amazing.

I guess the SATC wardrobe is a lot like us mere mortals after all. Sometimes, they get it wrong. And when it is wrong, it is so very very wrong. But mostly, they get it right. And when it is right, it is, as children of the 90's would say, wicked...

Better late than never...

Okay, I admit, if BeingGraceElisabeth was a child, she would have been taken into social care and I would be in jail for child neglect.

However, I am back. With a vengeance.

So until tomorrow, when I will post something worthy of reading, I thought I'd update you a little bit on what's been happening with me lately.

Firstly, I have black hair. I made the leap just before Christmas, and after spending the better part of 24 hours sobbing uncontrollably into my pillow, protesting how much I hated the new 'do, after a few days it stopped being such a shock every time I looked in the mirror, and now I love it. Admittedly, it's still taking some getting used to on photographs as the camera seems only to highlight my pale complexion against the ebony locks, but the Nice 'N' Easy was definitely a good move.

Also, I'm going to Paris! The Guardian was offering a deal that was just too good to pass up, and so on the 19th March I will be Eurostarring my way to the capital of romance, to eat baguettes and drink coffee and practice my GCSE French.

I'm taking my Mini Diana Lomo camera, and so hope to get many beauty snaps, like the above.

I was also saving to go to Benicassim, however that is now unfortunately not happening. Sad face. I was so looking forward to laying on a beach and soaking up some rays, and I'd already started planning my summer wardrobe. And my beach wardrobe. There's so many beaut retro swimsuits that I want BADLY. Here's a few examples:

This is the cutest swimsuit ever - I have a dress in the same fabric.

Embracing my love for the polkadot again! Classic Hepburn chic.

High waisted knickers are so flattering and so 50's. Accessorised with a pair of red Ray Bans, it would be the perfect beachwear attire. Hello sailor!

This Stop Staring swim dress makes me want to die it's so cute! It's like a little prom dress in swimwear form. I've found it for super cheap online too. Maybe the Easter bunny will bring me it instead of a chocolate egg...

Hello Bette Lynch! Leopard print is one of my favourite prints, and this is just amazing.

I also found a swim cap like this. I could never look as amazing in one as this babe, but one can only try.

However, I have decided, as a compromise, to buy my desired swimsuits over the course of the year, so that by the time Benicassim 2012 arrives, I will have all the necessary dollar and swim attire I could ever need to be a beach babe.

Sex and the City is also taking over my life. Having gotten the boxset with my Christmas dollar, I am currently on Season 5. Things I have realised since watching are the following:
1) I want to be Carrie Bradshaw.
2) I want to live in New York.
3) I hate Big.
4) I HATE Big.
5) A little bit of me died when I saw Carrie in her purple bandanna.
6) Where are all the Monolo's and Louboutins?? I had not realised that my obsessive viewing of the later episodes of SATC had seduced me into thinking that the whole series was like this. The boxset has reminded me of earlier episodes when this was clearly not the case.

I'm lucky to have quite a few journalism placements lined up for this year. I've got one with Accent magazine in April, one with a newspaper back home in May, one with Lifestyle in August and I was offered a month long placement with Living North magazine too! Not bad given that it's only February! I'd have a placement lined up for every week of every month if I could, but unfortunately my rent pennies still need to be paid, and thus my availability for continuous unpaid placements is somewhat limited as a result. Boo.

I'm still working at Office, where I drool everyday over the new season stock and lament the fact that I have no money to purchase any of the shoes. Even with my discount! However, I also recently discovered that I get a 45% uniform allowance, and so the Francis Cuban heeled brogues I've had my eye on since the beginning of time will be mine at almost half price!! SCORE!

I've also found a camper van hire company in Keswick, which is literally on my doorstep at home! The prices are really reasonable and I'm crossing my fingers to have the funds for a 3 night rental. An old VW camper van in the lakes with summer weather would be ultimate bliss. I'd take some retro deck chairs with me and transport myself mentally back to the 1950's...

I would sell all my possessions to own one of these.

The epitome of summer in photographic form.

And with that revelation, I will have to love you and leave you. That's about all that's happened up to date, to spare you the boring details.

Until tomorrow...

Ice Ice Baby...

So far, so good. The resolution for a post a day is going well!

Today, having had a very lovely 'date' day, the boy and I finally went ice skating. I mean, it's only been there since the middle of November, so it felt like an achievement to actually don the horrific complimentary blue ice skates and imagine myself as the better half of the next Torvill and Dean. Having had a slight stress at realising I had the dead weight of my Kate Moss for Topshop bag slung on my arm and not enough change for a locker (it would have definitely either killed me, or a small child, or both, had I taken it on to the ice...), the lovely woman behind the counter offered me a locker for free, having taken pity on myself and my lack of preparation. Unfortunately, my haste to get on to the ice meant I forgot both my packed socks (I was slightly prepared...), my camera and my gloves, meaning I had cold feet and hands and nothing to take my anticipated wintery snaps with. Oh well!

Despite the little hiccup in my plans, the skating was fab, and I didn't fall over once, even though I had many near-collisions with children and chavs alike (I'm a pro you see...). However, I hate to admit that a five year old put my skills to shame. Whilst I skated round hand in hand with the boy (both for the niceness of it and to prevent some over-enthused teen knocking me over), this tweenie child was skating round by herself, and she was actually amazing! I was slightly jealous at both her young bravery and her skating boots (she had the nice white ones I've always dreamed of). I really hate the plastic blue skates they always provide you with at rinks. For a start, they're horrific looking and so uncomfortable, what with those three belt-like straps holding your feet in like a straitjacket. Given that ice-skating is ultimately an elegant sport, it's difficult to comprehend why they give you the equivalent of breeze blocks for your feet. It's like giving ballerina's Doc Martins rather than pointe shoes. It kind of defeats the object...

Dream skates. The ones the ice rinks should provide you with rather the tragic plastic alternative.

 Moving on from my skate snobbery, I have to profess that I really do love ice skating. I always imagined myself as a figure skater, and as a child I was convinced I'd be alright at it given that I did ballet and all that jazz. However, this dream was taken away from me because I was brought up in the middle of nowhere that lacked an ice rink, and so my dreams of lycra were dashed and so we will move swiftly on...

I'm still convinced that this could have been me...

 Ice skating to me just seems so romantic. I love the idea of Victorian ice skating, where the men and the women met in their Sunday best. I bet it was a right dating hotspot...

All the single ladies... I'm loving the fur hats, I've ordered a vintage one just like them (kind of).

One of my favourite books from my childhood, Tom's Midnight Garden, is probably responsible for my idealistic view of ice skating: when Tom and Hatty used to meet at the midnight chime of the grandfather clock and skate on the frozen lake - him using her Victorian skates. And the endless images of the ice rink in Central Park always make me want to go ice skating and be in NY. I tried to find the ice rink when I was there in June, but unfortunately the Summer season was against me and sadly it was not to be found.

All this ice-skating talk is making me want to don those plastic skates and go again. The only thing stopping me is the realisation that unfortunately, there will forever be chavs and children alike on Newcastle's rink, which just is not big enough to cater for my taste. If I had my way, I'd have a whole ice rink to myself. Like this:

I love this image. An empty ice rink makes for perfect skating. I bet no chavs skated into Mrs Hobson...

 

 

 

 

Or, I'd just live in New York, where the ice rink is huge and big enough to avoid those pesky collisions...

But regardless, I did love my skating session today, and if I can convince the boy to part with another £16, I'm sure he'll take me again. Or at least take me to NY for the Central Park rink! (I jest. Well only slightly!) Given that we both sadly return to work tomorrow, ice skating was a lovely end to the festive period and we had a fab day. And now we're about to bake, with my Christmas tree cookie cutter (I refuse to let go of Christmas, clearly). Oh how I love date days...