Sucker For Packaging

pretty make-up packaging
// nail polish, Topshop // BabyLips lipbalm, Maybelline // nude lipstick, Doutzen Kroes for L’Oreal // strawberry cupcake scented handcream, Patisserie De Bain //

I like things around me to be beautiful. I am a very visually-driven person, sensitive to visual ugliness and disharmony – even to the point where I would have to leave a room because it offended my eyes. I realise that makes me sound like a complete prick, but hear me out. I know I’m not alone in saying that how something looks greatly affects how I experience it. If a room is light and tidy, I feel happier in it than I would one with dusty surfaces and chintz curtains. Those things depress me. I don’t even spend much time in my own living room, because my father decorated it and let’s just say his taste leaves something to be desired for even the crustiest of hippies. I’m the same way with possessions; if I like how something looks, I will enjoy using it more than I would a less aesthetically-pleasing version. I buy lots of make-up because I love the packaging and so enjoy seeing it on my bedside table, or in my bag. I enjoy picking it up and holding it and putting it on. Recently I bought the Maybelline BabyLips balm that you can see above; I didn’t need it. I have more lip balm than I could ever use. But I bought it anyway, because I knew it would make me happier than a Chapstick. Same with this L’Oreal lipstick by Doutzen Kroes (I love her, can I be her? Or maybe just smell her?); it’s beautiful and pale and so sheer that it barely warrants the 9 quid I spent on it, but it makes me so happy when I see the grown-up gilt packaging and smell its faint scent of violets.

I guess my point is that we should never regret spending our money on something that makes us happy, even if only for a moment. Life is too short and painful not to buy the stupid lipstick.

What’s In My Bag: Evening

what's in my bag
Most days I lug around a huge shoulder bag or tote full of various crap that doesn’t bear mentioning. When I’m going to or from my boyfriend’s place, or visiting my mum, I usually have a backpack so big that I need a back rub when I get to the other end. Everything I love seems to be extraordinarily heavy, and although I am one of the most experienced packers I know, I can never manage to get it light enough to be comfortable. I always need my laptop, because I work online. So all my chargers and other kit has to come too. I also need a hairdryer; various shoes for the changeable Welsh weather; my DSLR. In the end my luggage is so cumbersome that I’m forced to walk as if I’m welcoming guests to Castle Frankenstein. Needless to say, I relish those rare, beautiful days or nights when I don’t need to carry five days worth of clothes around with me, and can just relax with one of my favourite clutch bags. It is damn near impossible to build a stylish outfit around a gap-year sized crippler of a backpack (believe me, I’ve tried) so when I’m travelling, I tend to dress like a woman who has completely given up on life. There is loads of stuff around about how to look good when travelling, but it’s never worked for me. I always end up looking homeless, or like a soccer mum from 80’s suburbia who’s been thrown into her closet head first and dragged out by her feet. So I like my leave-everything-behind-and-take-the-Chanel days. They are important for my soul. And my back.

I Walked With You Once Upon A Dream

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