Crete Photo-Diary: Agia Pelagia

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Crete is the largest and most populated of the Greek islands. It sits quite alone in the Eastern Mediterranean, separating the Aegean Sea from the Libyan Sea. It's nearly as close to Northern Africa as it is to mainland Greece. It is a dry, warm, mountainous island with a hugely varied wildlife and terrain. These photos are from the sleepy seaside town of Agia Pelagia, our base while we stayed on Crete. It's a quiet place with fine-sand beaches, tavernas, a few shops, but no huge bars or clubs. Everyone is there for the transparent ocean, and for the sun. The cafes along the beach feel more like Bali or Mexico than what you would expect in Greece, with huge cacti scattered around and bamboo parasols laid out for sunbathers. While I was there in late September, the weather reached 37 degrees. The ocean water was 25 degrees. All the pink got washed out of my hair. Small street-cats are everywhere in the towns and cities, living off lizards, rats, fish, and the bins from the nearby restaurants. I found one with beautiful blue eyes, playing in a patch of shade, who posed for my camera after I gave it a lump of ice cream.

I couldn't fit all my photos into one post so I thought I'd split them up into a few, covering different districts of the island. These pics aren't even edited much, if at all. The light was spectacular, and everything was photogenic. We're already planning a trip next year to explore a few more islands,  perhaps Kos or Santorini, and a return to Crete.

Being Little

I have only ever called two men Daddy. Neither of them were my father. When I first began experimenting with BDSM, I was much more comfortable with words like Sir and Master; they have a certain civil politeness about them that doesn't feel quite as filthy, or as intimate, as Daddy. With my first boyfriend, it never felt like the right title. I remember the way I cringed every time he reminded me to use it, a game that quickly became a chore. It only began to come naturally with someone who never, ever required me to be a grown-up, a later partner who remains one of my favourite people and dearest friends.

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I am wounded when he and I start seeing each other. We are friends above all else, and so I take him out to a press event at a cocktail bar, a non-date. Both dressed-up and drunk enough to make long, unflinching eye-contact, he runs his fingers through my hair and gently pulls my head to one side, just to see if I will allow him to move me. We hold hands on the way home as he reassures me there's time, that I don't need to panic about missing my train. He can see my nerves tremble whenever I mention the hour, the station, or look at my ticket, but he does not question me too hard. Being friends, no one is trying to destroy or humiliate the other.

And so it happens very quickly. My voice falls out softer and higher in his presence. Yes, daddy. Please, daddy. Deeper, daddy. He is a foot taller than me and when we hug I can hear his heart. I swap one train journey for another, and sleeping and waking starts to get a bit easier, because being little means being cared for. No endearment is too silly or embarrassing. The smaller I feel, the less anxious I become. Even though this is all happening at the wrong time - even though I am often distant and non-commital and everything else I hated people for being before I was wounded myself - I am no longer afraid to wake up and remember what hurts. I am his babygirl. I have permission, and that knowledge keeps me on the earth.

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The sexual roles I go to out of habit feel like affected and ridiculous characters, an unnecessary layer between us that needs to come down before we can begin. Kitten, bunny, secretary, a devoted Grecian slave tending her warrior. He wants none of them, and what we have left afterwards is somehow the opposite; a regression, a stripping away of everything I have learned in order to please men. He knows when to choke me and when to let me breathe. The rules are designed so that I am forced to practice self-care, they do not exist merely to trip me up and bring me punishment. He knows I have been punished enough. We take our clothes off as soon as we are alone, and the sex becomes our clearest form of communication, an adoration without cruelty. Something in me unbreaks. We spend hours watching Disney movies and eating junk food in bed, and after fucking I fall asleep on his chest, unshowered, and dream of nothing. I am held in place.

Babygirls are often misunderstood. Being little has nothing to do with fantasizing about incest, or pretending to be younger than you are. Those things are normal, healthy kinks in their own right, and as much as I want to clarify a distinction, I also don't feel the need to make too fine a point about it. In their essence, all relationships like these are about the exquisite contrast of a childlike spirit within a sensual, adult body. They are about giving and receiving care in the most raw and instinctive form, and relearning a sense of profound safety that we all lose as we live. They're about healing. Everything else is play.

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What It Means To Be Bisexual In A Heteronormative World

I am bisexual. Among my peer group, I am not the only one; women who identify as straight are few and far between. I'm a sex blogger living in a Western city, privileged enough that hiding my orientation isn't a pressing safety concern. I also pass as straight, and as a result, dodge most of the abuse that queer women usually face. I only experience it when I am on dates with women, when I kiss or hold hands with my female friends in public, when I announce that I am bisexual on the internet or to new male partners, and as a child trying to express myself, when I was taught what dyke and whore meant by kids who did not even know themselves.

A girl once took my hand on the high street of my tiny, coastal hometown in Wales, and a man walked straight between us, snarling as he tore our hands apart. She tried to comfort me in a quiet, leafy spot behind a church, ironically the only place we could kiss without being seen. She was 19, a lesbian, and already used to it. We got happy-drunk on Jack Daniels and told my father we were "friends from blogging" on the way to my bedroom. Standing in my front porch while she smoked, people walking past openly stared, and I tried to put a name to the discomfort and the unease that I couldn't shake, that had nothing to do with my feelings toward her. After a while I realized it was because we were two women in public, and should anything happen, I knew I could not protect her, and she could not protect me.

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Out of all the pan and bisexual gal pals that I have, none of them are currently in a relationship with a woman. Not one, out of maybe 20 girls. Many of them are in long-term or short-term relationships with men, and many are single. This is not just an anecdotal finding, so please don't think I'm indirecting if this applies to you, as it does to me. Roughly 85-90% of bisexuals in relationships are committed to a member of the opposite sex, depending on what statistics you find. Bisexual women are also hugely more likely to marry a man than to marry or enter a civil partnership with a woman, and far less likely to ever come out at all, when compared to lesbians.
   
Let me be clear: I am not in any way insinuating that any of this lessens their status as a queer woman. The relationship we are currently in does not define our sexuality or erase our identity. That is actually the whole frustrating, troubling point I am trying to make. Our relationships with men are not a betrayal of our queerness; but queer women are choosing het relationships in overwhelming numbers, often choosing to never experience a female, and in many instances, choosing to live entirely closeted. This worries me.

Relationships can be a hideaway, a safe harbour; so can monogamy, or celibacy, or any form of sexual status. We use them as disguises, to protect ourselves financially, to avoid oppression or maintain privilege. When a bisexual woman chooses a monogamous relationship with a man, many will try to erase her bisexuality. They will say that she's outgrown her lesbian phase; that she was never really into girls; that she is straight now. This is so profoundly insulting and demeaning that most bisexual women in this situation will respond by declaring they are simply "a bisexual girl who just happened to fall in love with a man". But neither stance is entirely true. Queer girls are just happening to fall in love with men at hugely disproportionate rates, no matter where they sit on the Kinsey scale. I mentioned this imbalance to a straight, male friend recently. His response was to joke, witheringly, that maybe it's just because guys are so awesome at eating pussy and having intimate relationships. And then we both laughed hysterically. We laughed for a very long time.

I know queer women who met their male partners while they were at school, at university, living with homophobic family members, or before they'd even met another girl like them; in contexts where it almost makes no sense to talk about free choices. Straight men are also far more likely to pursue bisexual girls; our culture slaps them on the back for doing so, while many of my queer friends say they feel scared to flirt with another girl in case they are rejected or abused for being gay. If dating a girl might get you kicked out of the house, or disowned, or bullied at school, or shot dead in a nightclub, the odds on what gender you end up with are not 50/50. We do not live and love in a vacuum. Hatred, violence, and stigma towards same-sex relationships is very real. Bisexual people can choose to be invisible - and can you blame them? When the alternative is often so horrific.

The reason I am writing this is because it breaks my heart that so many of my friends have never felt safe enough to explore their sexuality. So many feel like they have no place in the queer community, and simultaneously, that they have no place in mainstream culture. Many have turned to the internet as their only means of self expression.

The reasons we fall in love with certain people and not others are hugely complex, and stretch farther than I could ever cover in writing. I do not think it ever "just happens". Love is love, but that doesn't mean it is always treated the same.

I Have A Rose Gold Watch, Am I Grown-Up Now?

I get sent a lot of really gorgeous stuff as a result of my blog. I have to pinch myself sometimes, even after all these years, when I think that this is actually my part-time job. I don't feel "grown-up" enough most days for this to be true; sometimes I'm not sure if I feel like a proper blogger, a proper woman, a proper adult, a proper creative. I need help sometimes, from the little things that sit around my house and remind me, whenever I see them, how much beauty my online creativity has provided for me. Objects that make me feel somehow a little more together, a little more grown-up, a little more "here", a little more done.

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Watches are no longer really necessary for their practical purpose. Everyone tells the time by their phone. But we keep buying them because of what they mean, because of our learned material culture, because of aesthetics. We create ourselves, and those we love, with the things that adorn us. Being grown-up is ultimately just a matter of doing something with the time we are given, and trying to learn at the same pace as we wrinkle up. And making the most of our time is easier if we have a perpetual reminder.

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This is the first even-remotely "grown-up" watch I've ever had, at the ripe old age of 25. It's definitely one of the most beautiful objects that blogging has brought into my life. When I went to have it sized, the watch-maker said she had never seen one like it before, which pleased me a great deal. It's made from maple wood and rose gold, and was chosen for me and my style by the super kind and knowledgeable people at Jord. Clothes-wise I'm quite a laid-back person, and I tend to express my personality more through my hair, my makeup, my jewelry, my body, the way I speak with my hands. I have always been an over-sized watch and blue jeans type of woman inside, and now my exterior is in sync. I am a little more here, a little more done.

You can win your own timepiece by entering my giveaway. The winner will receive a $75 e-voucher to spend, and everyone who enters will win a $20 one to put towards a timepiece. The giveaway ends on the 12th of June. Good luck, everyone.

This post contains pr samples/sponsorship, please see my pr page for details

Wooden Watches For Sale

New Horror Funkos!!

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I have a theme for my Funkos. I like themes. I like a certain aesthetic consistency in most things; it helps me bring beauty and a stylised order to an otherwise hectic and disorganised life. It's one of the reasons I love blogging. I love to curate life, and gather together the bits and pieces that I feel can say something about me that I cannot express by pure, spontaneous, dirty living, which runs away before I can grab hold of it.

The theme I have in mind for my Funkos is this: Monsters, and the women who know how to handle them. At first it might seem like a strange way for a feminist to collect her toys, but let me explain the idea a little bit better first. Not all these "monsters" are male, (Ghostface for example, spoiler alert, is a female in Scream 4) and not all of them are even human; to me they symbolise the demons within us all. The reason I am collecting specifically female champions, warriors, fighters, slayers, rescuers, saviours, and yes, even victims, is because I'm collecting those that have meant the most to me, as a woman, and the ones I have most deeply identified with. The archetype of the warrior princess has always fascinated me. Over the years, certain characters have taught me how to handle the monsters in my own life, and those inside me, by applying reason (Dana Scully), by applying love and forgiveness (Belle in Beauty and The Beast), and when all else fails, by slaying (Buffy Summers, forever and always). I know it's all a bit deep for a bunch of fucking Funko Pops, but that's what I'm like. So I thought I'd share.


My Buffy Summers and Ghostface Funko Pop Vinyls were kindly gifted to me by Vanilla Underground, see my PR page for details 

Spring Fashion Haul

It's been an absolute age since I've done a fashion post, let alone a fashion haul. Lately I've been intentionally buying up new things for spring (and being sent a few by brands, lucky me) so it just NEEDS to be done now, I think. I feel like I'm making my way towards having more of a "capsule wardrobe" than I've ever had before. Usually I'm the most impulsive, novelty-driven consumer possible. I buy strawberry bags and mermaid earrings and watermelon shorts. But I've been actually trying to focus in on versatile pieces that are more deeply suited to my personality and lifestyle. I'll run through them for you now but I'm sure I'll style them in outfit posts soon also!

I started out with a trench coat, because not having one began to feel kind of ridiculous. I picked this absolute keeper from Gap, after looking around for months at different ones. I wear it pretty much every day now so I probably should have bought one sooner, to be honest. I mix it a lot with my new rose-gold trainers from New Look. On the website they call them "Stone" coloured, but in real life they look rose gold to me - perhaps my obsession is making me hallucinate.

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Continuing with the rose gold theme, I've been wearing my metallic headphones from Kanen every single day. You can find similar ones on Amazon if you want a more reasonable alternative to Frends. The dress you can just about see underneath my trench is by Rare but I found it on Depop, and I was thinking of styling it for an OOTD post at some point, as it is super-sexy in a Jessica Rabbit type way. 

I've been trying to wear earrings now that my ears are getting gradually more and more pierced and elf-like. I was kindly gifted these ones and these ones from Happiness Boutique to try out, and I love them both. The Red Wine Drop Earrings feel really high-octane, and I tend to wear them out in the evening with an LBD or something. The Lavish Bar Statement Earrings are lighter and have more of a hippie vibe, so they go with pretty much everything in my wardrobe. Oh, and if you wanted to pick up something from Happiness Boutique for yourself, you can use my discount code "witchcake" for 10% off on orders over £15o until May 27th.

I know it's kind of mean of me to include something that isn't available any more, but I needed to mention my Chanel evening bag, because I've barely photographed it until now and it's one of the most beautiful things I own! I always get it out more in the spring, simply because in the spring I tend to go more places that warrant a Chanel bag, ya feel?

This post contains pr samples/affiliates, please see my disclaimer here 

How I Got Rose Gold Hair

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If you follow me on Instagram or Twitter you will have already seen recent selfies of me with my new rose-gold, pinky peachy hair. I've been wanting to go this colour for months and months, and fawning over images of pretty metallic hair on Pinterest while I mulled it over. I finally committed to the process (and shelled out around £100 all in all - becoming a unicorn ain't cheap) and I am sooooo happy I did. Here's how the magic happened.

What I Started With: Before I began, I had waist-length, auburn hair. It had been tinted with semi-permanent dyes many months ago, and had a lot of virgin roots. It was quite strong and healthy, despite being in desperate need of a trim, and I felt confident it could withstand a bleaching. 

The Bleach: I decided to go to a professional salon rather than bleaching it myself, because the kind of blonde that I wanted was a warm, natural-looking blonde - a golden canvas for temporary rose, peach, and pinky dyes that I could play around with to make something quite deep and metallic. So I booked in to Bauhaus in Cardiff, where they use Aveda products - my favourite. They gave me an all over bleach with a stronger solution on my ends. At this point you will look like a CheeseString, until they tone your hair. They gave me several rounds of ash and natural toner until it was all a consistent colour (check out this selfie to see what I looked like).

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The Cut: After I had my blonde sorted, I decided to cut off the dry ends of my hair so that it would be healthier and happier after all that bleach. I had very, very long hair, so I opted for layers, about four inches taken off the length, and a "horseshoe" pattern around my face so that it tapers at the back (think Zooey Deschanel). This also got rid of the darker-blonde ends of my hair so that the rose-gold would go on evenly, and give me less hair to dye!

The Rose Gold Tint: I started with one bottle of Rose dye from Bleach London (their products are all vegan and cruelty-free). I originally planned to mix Rose and Awkward Peach, but I had enough warm, peachy tones in my hair to be getting on with, so all I needed were cooler pink tones. With the first half of the dye I followed the instructions on the bottle and put it on towel-dried hair for 15 mintues, but after I did this, there was next to no colour on my hair. So I did a little strand test on DRY hair, which I left on for a couple of hours. The strand came out a beautiful, bright metallic pink. Happy with the strand, I went ahead and used the last of the bottle on completely dry hair, left it on for about one hour and a quarter, and then rinsed off the excess. I did not rinse until the water ran clear, like you would with regular dye, because that would literally leave no colour on you at all. When I was done I dried my hair with a black towel to avoid any stains getting anywhere!

And that's about it. You can see what I looked like immediately afterwards in this picture, and after a few washes, the colour fades to peach, ginger (like this) and then rosy blonde. If you have any questions about going rose-gold then please pop me a comment!

Why I'm Quitting Internet Dating

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I've been meeting men and women online for about three years. Sometimes it would turn into a monogamous relationship - but when things ended, I would always go back.

It began when I made the decision that I was going to find a Dominant. I wanted to see if I could get my needs met, somehow, with only a vague idea of what they were and what would satisfy them. I joined Fetlife, a networking site for kinky people. As a teenager, I was cripplingly agoraphobic and anxious. I don't know how I could best describe to you what it's like to possess both a crazed sexual drive, and a fear of talking to people I find attractive. The two do not easily coexist and used to push me to do dangerous and destructive things, in an attempt to break the periods of isolation that my fear of crowds and open spaces often confined me to. I would have moments of explosive, wild bravery, where my impulses would briefly overcome my fear, and compel me to take a desperate risk. When I joined Fetlife, it was the first time I was able to talk to others about my deepest desires on a casual, daily basis. I lost my shyness and extremity, and was quickly found. Within two weeks I was in a relationship.

Ten months later, when that relationship ended, I returned to Fetlife. This time around, I joined Tinder as well. At first it was thrilling to have limitless choices again, without the phobias and the shame that had tortured me. I explored everything I discovered, with a greater understanding of my own needs, and so much less at stake. But the words we use in matters of the heart are heavily recycled, and over the last three years, there has been hardly any original communication. A lot of those conversations could have been written by the same lover. I've used OkCupid, Bumble, Tinder, Happn, Fetlife, Whiplr, Her, SugarDaddy.com, and a whole host of other dating sites in the gaps where I was free to. I started to come across people I had already dated. Swiping past exes in my Tinder stack, I would laugh at the contrast between their profile and what I knew of their real self, re-writing them in my head. In my relationships, I kept finding little clues; flashes of deja vu come to tell me I was dating the same man, only in a different form. They appeared in odd combinations and in unexpected moments. The plain navy bedding. The Batman laptop stickers. That certain IKEA chest of drawers. The candle jar with the black paraffin soot up the sides, that stains my hand every time I light it. Them, crying, unable to cope. Me, silent and tired. The black sex toys. The belt. The empty bottles of whisky. The drunken phone calls. The morning light. The train station.

Growing detached and observant on dates, that feeling of repetition intensified, until it began to feel like a game of Guess Who. Except it was not a game, but my one and only romantic life. As time has passed, I have grown tired of that type of  person. The majority of people looking around online are not ready to find something. Especially something like me. 

I have changed since all this started. I'm openly kinky to all and everyone I meet, and I have a much larger circle of kinky friends now, who I can explore with, should I wish to. I no longer need the distance of a dating app in order to be honest about that. The usual rhetoric is that internet dating is just a convenient means to an end, because our lifestyles make it difficult to meet people organically. But I have come to believe that only truly applies to a small percentage. For me, it was about having very specific kinks that I needed to confess. And for all the men that I met, it seemed to be about disposability, and their incapacity to connect to another person in real life or otherwise.

The other day, after all these years, I deleted all my dating accounts. Not just the apps, the actual accounts. For a while I was afraid to do this, thinking my love life would be barren without them, but I needn't have worried. If anything, I feel more approachable in person now, more connected to the people around me. Should the dates become less frequent, I still think I will survive. I can't imagine anything worse than one day, as an old woman with grey and wrinkled hands, still leaning down to light a candle with paraffin soot up the sides of the jar, and not even caring who it's for.

Septum Piercing (And Re-Piercing, And Re-Piercing...)

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When I'm wearing it, my septum piercing is one of the first things people notice about me. I get a lot of lovely comments and questions about it from curious people or those who are considering having it done themselves, so I thought I'd put together a guide for you all to get the low-down. I'm not a qualified piercer, so this post is merely based on my own experience as a piercing-lover, and on things I've been taught by my piercers over the years. If you have anything more to ask after reading, just pop it in a comment - I'm always happy to talk about piercings!   

Does it hurt? All piercings hurt, in a way, but how you experience them very much depends on your own body and mind. I enjoy the process of being pierced, despite acknowledging that it's "painful" on an objective level. I like the feel of metal and of controlled, professionally-administered pain. Putting my masochism aside for a second though, I'd rank a septum as around a 7/10 on the ouchy piercing scale. It will make your eyes water, no matter how tough you are, so don't go and get your septum done while wearing false eyelashes, or even mascara if you can avoid it. I learnt that one the hard way.

How much will it cost? Mine was £15 in a tattoo studio in Pembrokeshire, but they can go up to around £30 depending on the location and jewellery you choose. To be honest, if they ask you for more than £25 including a piece of basic jewellery, I'd go somewhere else.

How long does it take to heal? For me it was about two months before I was brave enough to take my horseshoe out and try new jewellery. A septum piercing goes through a really thin membrane, not cartilage, so it's a quick healer compared to some other piercings. But don't rush it!

What kind of jewellery should I get? Always get stainless steel, sterling silver or gold jewellery. I've bought nose rings from places like Claire's that I assumed were stainless steel, and then had them go green and brassy and minging. Always check and double-check what material it's made out of. A regular septum piercing should be around 16g (g for gauge indicates the actual size of the hole) but make sure you ask your piercer, because they can vary. Obviously you will be able to wear things that are smaller (even though they won't hold your piercing at the right size for long) but you can't wear anything bigger until it's fully healed, should you wish to stretch it.

Will it close over quickly/how can I re-pierce it? I've re-pierced my own several times over the years, and it's easier than you'd think. If you haven't worn any septum jewellery for quite a while and it looks like the hole has closed over, sterilise a stainless steel ring (something sturdy that you can put some force behind) and get yourself in front of a magnifying mirror. With one hand, pinch your septum and pull outwards, so that the hole is as stretched out as it can be. Then take your jewellery and work it a little inside until you know you've found the right angle, and then gently but firmly push it all the way through, applying slow pressure. As you do this, you will see/feel the hole sort of re-opening, as if your jewellery is simply stretching it back open. Your eyes will water but it's not absurdly painful. When it comes out the other side your jewellery will have a bit of gunk on it, so just rub that off with a wet wipe or tissue and you're good to go. There shouldn't be any blood, but if there is, wet a bit of tissue with cold water and hold it there until the bleeding stops, and then clean it regularly as if it were a brand new piercing. 

How do people react to you when you have a septum piercing? Any change in our appearance will make people see us differently, and that's their loss, but that's how it is. Because it's a very visible piercing, I get a lot of comments on my septum, often from complete strangers. Comments include "you look like a bull", "doesn't it still hurt you though?", "I feel squeamish just looking at it", "what about when you have a cold?" et cetera. I also get a lot of random men telling me that they want to attach a leash to it and lead me around by the nose. So have a comeback prepared for that one.

Can I hide it for work/school? Yes, you can. Because it's all the way up inside your nose, you can get plain, short jewellery to hold the piercing for you, usually called a keeper. It depends on the structure of your nose, but I find that I can put in a regular spiked barbell, like you'd wear on an eyebrow, and it won't show at all.

Bedroom Jamz

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I wrote the first instalment of this post quite a long time ago now. I always liked the idea and kept it in the back of my mind in case I ever wanted to add to it. Most of the music I listen to is unapologetically sexual; I love stuff from all genres that deals with love, heartbreak, jealousy and desire. I like a lot of typical strip-club music for this reason, as well as old blues and classic rock. The playlist that I add to most often on my Spotify is called "Sex Magic" (for now it's a private playlist, but I might make it public one day if enough people ask!) and I am constantly harassing my friends for their bedroom tunes, because I know that those are the most likely to be the ones I'll enjoy. I've left out some of my go-to songs just because they are well-known already (like Zayn's "Pillowtalk" and The Weeknd's "Wicked Games") and instead focused on BDSM-themed tracks, or ones that create a nice atmosphere for kink. Most searches for that kind of thing just bring up Marilyn Manson, so I thought I'd share a more diverse mix for those who are that way inclined. 

Baseline - Miss Kittin

This is a catchy techno-pop song with slightly kinky lyrics ("baseline for your body/ let's talk about it/ message to you daddy/ I can talk to you") that is great for dancing and fun, high tempo activities.

Naked Wet Hot (Dimension Remix) - Junksista

Junksista is a pretty rad BDSM-oriented industrial artist that makes very gothic, thumping music that is perfect for intense scenes or dancing. The lyrics are always gloriously obscene ("I'm naked/I'm wet/I'm hot/ I'll do ya right here/ oh yes I am a slut") and in Junksista's amazingly sexy German accent, it's all a bit great.

Physical - Nine Inch Nails

One of the lesser-known NIN songs that I still think is one of their best, this is a brilliant tune for stripping, dancing and the like. Trent Reznor is forever bae.

Desire - Meg Myers

This might sound kind of loud and screamy to be sex music at first, but I've had it on the background on a lower volume and it works surprisingly well. The lyrics are intense, desperate and dramatic, so it's not one for chilled or low-key situations.

Leave The Lights On (DNTST Remix) - Meiko

This remix of a brilliant indie track by Meiko (about infidelity, oddly enough) is awesome for cuddles, aftercare, or romantic situations. I've put it on after a party to chill out to before and it works just as well for that too.

Work Song - Hozier

Hozier is always pretty sexy music, let's be honest, but personally I think this song is his best for bedroom situations. It has a gorgeous narrative and lyrics, and a really sultry feel. I sometimes play this in the bath to relax, just because the vocal is so lovely.

Waiting Game - Banks

Banks is yet another very "night-time" artist that I listen to a hell of a lot. This track is kind of darkly sexy and emotional at the same time, dealing with quite complex themes around relationships, jealousy and heartbreak.

Ring Of Fire - Lera Lynn

This is a cover of the famous Johnny Cash track, which should be a sacrilege but somehow isn't. Lynn does it justice with a totally re-imagined version that is much slower, sexier, and more sinister. No one is quite Johnny Cash, and she doesn't try to be, but makes an almost entirely new song. The only thing I have against it, is that they used it in a Pretty Little Liars love scene (spoiler alert look away now) between Spencer and Caleb, which I think we can all agree should never have happened.

(in photo: gold headphones by Kanen // bullet vibe was gifted by Lovehoney // lipstick is Russian Red by Mac)

A Non-Mother's Day

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My mother hasn't ever really been that bothered about Mother's Day. She's the kind of woman that finds meaningless ritual rather tedious, and if gifts or letters have nothing behind them other than obligation, then she'd rather not have them. And she wouldn't resent going without. She's a minimalist in taste and in sentiment. She adores getting gifts that really mean something, on any occasion or day of the year, and gives them freely all the time, but novelty or themed gifts are most definitely not her thing. She's also very generous and would normally try and find a way to spoil others on her own birthday. I ended up treating her to a few home things from The White Company a couple of weeks before Mother's Day, courtesy of the super nice people at Ocean loans as part of their Mother's Day campaign, and then going out with her on the day itself to get coffee. She loves simple floral arrangements so I got her some greenery to put in her new vases.

Going shopping with her always makes me want to start hauling the homeware. I've been eyeing up so many things in the Primark, New Look and H&M home sections lately. I am literally the worst for keeping plants alive (raising a succulent is harder than it looks, guys) but I still give it a shot far more often than I should. Maybe I should settle for having cactus-print sheets or something instead? Or maybe I could start watering that dodgy bit of damp in my bathroom? Idk. I'm not green-fingered. But I like the pots.

This post contains pr samples/sponsorship, please see my disclaimer here 

Emoji Fashion Wishlist

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Devil power bank, Dolls Kill // Emoji heart skirt (on model), Dolls Kill // Cherry necklace, Tatty Devine // Poo emoji pillow, similar on Amazon // Bomb mini bag/purse, SkinnyDip London // Creepy moon phone case, similar on Redbubble

I don't really buy all that many novelty things, as I'm quite minimalist in my day-to-day wear. I own a lot of black jeans and white shirts, and tend to rotate the same outfits pretty much every week, which is why I'll never be a famous fashion blogger. Even though I'm this way in practise, in theory, I am all about colour and silliness. I love fun, ridiculous clothes and accessories, and tend to buy them even if just for the sake of my Instagram. 

Emoji-prints are one thing that I have NEVER bought, but recently I started really wanting a poop emoji pillow, and ever since I've been seeing different emoji-themed clothes and home stuff everywhere I look. There's emoji bedding in Primark. There's emoji keyrings in Topshop. There's even a guy selling emoji cushions in the fucking street outside Ann Summers, so I've got passive-aggressive moon faces or a happy turd giving me the eye every time I go and buy knickers. Seeing as the whole thing seems very *on trend*, I thought I'd be trendy and give you a little wishlist of my favourite emoji fashion pieces. If anyone knows where I can find a t-shirt with two milk bottle emojis over the chest, it'd be much appreciated.

Geeking Out

I'm a massive nerd when it comes to many things. Mostly blogging, to be fair, but you all know that already. I've never really "grown up" in the way that most people think of it, and I don't really want to. Sometimes I feel very little inside, even though I'm 25. That littleness is an exciting feeling, not a scary one. I still get overly hyped about Disney pyjamas or a new Tsum Tsum release. I feel most relaxed and happy around people who share this enthusiasm, and who allow me to be a child. Enthusiasm is really all it is, and it should never be lost, regardless of how old we get. I may have a whole arsenal of sex toys, but they sit right next to my BB-8 mug and my Lego, and that's how it should be. Lately I've been hauling quite a few shamelessly geeky, nerdy, and playful things, and going crazy over many different types of toys. Here are some of my more innocuous interests. 

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Star Wars: Growing up, Star Wars was my world. It meant so much to me that I was actually livid when I learned they were making yet another movie and that J.J Abrams was going to direct. I have hated all of his movies and couldn't stand the thought of sitting through the director of such delights as Star Trek Into Darkness and Mission: Impossible III take a steaming dump all over my childhood. I swore up and down I wouldn't go and see it, but of course I did, and loved it. I actually cried a little bit whenever they used the original score, and I don't even care who knows at this point.

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Disney Merch: I have a really small but steadily growing collection of tsum tsums, and I plan on getting a whole huge pyramid of princesses and anti-heroes. I also go nuts over plastic beakers. mugs, and teddies in the Disney Store. I'm most obsessed with Beauty and the Beast and other old classics, although I do have a soft spot for Frozen and Tangled.

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Funko Pops: I've wanted a Funko for absolutely ages but didn't really know which one to get first, until I discovered that they did an American Horror Story series, including my  number one bae, the Rubber Man. Isn't he cute? Look at him there in his latex, all murdery and stuff. Adorable. Come at me you beautiful trouble-maker. It was meant to be.

iPhone Cases: Since I got my first iPhone last summer I've become really paranoid about buying up cute cases before they stop making them for my model (I have a 5s) and they seem to be getting more and more dorky and embarrassing. I have a watermelon, unicorns, rockets, a bunny and a kitty, and various others. I kind of want one that has something rude on it, like tiny cartoon vaginas or maybe a cute combo swear-word like "asshat" or "clusterfuck". And before you ask, yes, trawling eBay for things like this is how I spend my Wednesday nights.

A Beginner's Guide To Rabbit Vibes

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Dream Rabbit Vibrator,* from Lovehoney // Knickers from Accessorize // Bunny Ears are vintage

This may come as a shock to you guys, but this here is my very first Rabbit. Don't get me wrong, I've tried a heck of a lot of sex toys in my time - but I guess I must have started at the deep end. I have more experience with tying Japanese rope, inflatable butt plugs, latex hoods with only a hole over the mouth, and chastity devices than I do with the world's best-selling sex toy. I am here to tell you what my first experience was like, and how you can make yours as spectacular as possible.

For a lot of women, myself included, I think there can be a kind of psychological barrier around penetrating yourself with an object (if you are not used to it) which makes us tense up and not enjoy the sensation as much as we would during sex, or if someone else was doing it. I spoke to my friends who had tried Rabbits while I researched this piece, and there seemed to be a rough 50/50 divide between women who absolutely loved them, and women who found them a bit uncomfortable (despite enjoying well-endowed men, if I may be so frank). Most rabbits aren't particularly big; this one has an insertable length of 5.5 inches, which is around the size of the average penis, so the discomfort that many report is kind of surprising unless you consider how psychologically unprepared a lot of us are for toys (only around 40/50% of Western women have tried  a sex toy, depending on what data you look at, and of that percentage, a huge number is external toys such as bullets). We often forget that just like any sexual act or experience, you sort of have to gear yourself up for it, get your mind and body into the right zone, and relax.

When I first had a go at playing with my new Rabbit, I used a lot more lube than I would during sex. I literally slathered the thing in vanilla H20, and this made things much easier than I was anticipating. The shaft has rotating beads that sit just inside you, and 10 different functions to choose from. Working my way through the settings, I quickly found my favourites and learnt what speeds and combos worked best for me. The lowest speed was more than enough to get me off the first or even second time, and I only needed to increase it or use a stronger pattern once I started to lose sensitivity after several orgasms. Which brings me to the actual orgasms you will get from a Rabbit. Now this is where it gets interesting. For a lot of women, vaginal orgasms are quite hard to achieve; they need pretty sustained effort. But a Rabbit doesn't ever get tired. The Rabbit doesn't ever suddenly change things up just as you are getting close. The Rabbit doesn't ever stop for a minute for a breather and set you back five days, and it doesn't finish before you do. It's a relentless machine. It'll grind away at you until you make it stop. Because of this sustained, rhythmic pressure, I found I could achieve a blended vaginal/clitoral orgasm within about 5 minutes. The orgasm itself, as I find with most toys, was a continuous pulsating sensation, very different to orgasms reached by manual stimulation, that are usually a bit more sudden and jarring. I didn't need to stop the toy when I got to my happy place, and could carry on all the way through and over my climax and on to the next, which was...satisfying, for want of a better word.

A great thing about this toy is that you can take it in the bath with you, as it's 100% waterproof silicone. And it's not all that loud either, it's actually one of my quietest toys - more discreet than a wand, and you guys know how much I love a wand. If you used them together it'd probably make a bit of a racket though...not that I've thought about doing that or anything.

This post contains pr samples/sponsorship, please see my disclaimer here 

How I Edit And Curate My Instagram

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I've always enjoyed reading posts like this, especially from my very favourite-ist bloggers, so that I can try and figure out how they achieve their signature Instagram theme. I'm not ashamed to say that I LOVE a themed account and am always trying to improve the consistency of mine. I never thought to write a post about it until recently, when someone on Twitter asked me if I ever done one (how flattering!). I guess I had always thought my Instagram was too small and obscure to do a post like this, but it's grown so much in the last couple of months as I have begun to really make an effort with it. My following has almost tripled in the last six months, and I'm not saying that to brag, honestly - I'm fecking grateful for every one of you, and I want to help you do the same and make your own pics as awesome as they can be. So here are my secrets.

I post 50% DSLR photos, and 50% iPhone: I don't stick to this as a rule or even look over my pics intentionally to make sure I keep this ratio, it just sort of happens naturally as a result of posting photos from my blog posts and then more candid snaps when I'm out and about (or in the bath). I find this a nice mix for me personally (I've tried 100% DSLR and 100% iPhone, and a combination works best for me and my aesthetic). Find a ratio that works for you and maybe keep it in the back of your mind if you want your account to look a bit more pastel/grainy/faded, or saturated/polished/professional.

I use Afterlight: Afterlight is an awesome app that only costs 79p on the App Store. I don't use it for all my photos, but it has some amazing tools that are real life-savers if I have to take a photo in bad light. For me, the most useful function is the brightness adjuster. Unlike within Instagram, where the brightness only goes up one bar, in Afterlight you can increase the brightness/highlights/saturation/everything else as many times as you want. I tend to focus on upping the brightness, contrast and saturation, and then adjusting the warmth so that the background of my picture isn't too yellow or too blue-toned.

I often delete pictures that don't fit: People are kind of divided about this, and I can see the logic on both sides. To me, my Instagram is a place to represent the visual aesthetic of my blog and brand, so I don't mind deleting pics that I get bored of, or that I think ruin my theme. As long as I still have them on my phone for posterity's sake, then a little bit of tidying up actually feels really good to me.

I look at shape and composition: This might sound odd, but I always prefer it when my Instagram has a balance of shapes across my feed. For example, if I post too many flatlays or highly detailed shots clustered together, it can look too messy and cluttered.  On the other hand, if I post too many super close-ups that make every product look like Godzilla, my feed might be lacking in nuance. I try to mix them all up so that my overall account looks balanced in composition. That being said, there are loads of amazing Instagram accounts that are exclusively flatlays or close-ups - it's all about finding a composition that works for you and that flows nicely.

Five Things Vegetarians Are Sick Of Hearing

I am not, by nature, an evangelical person. I am the kind of person that will quietly enjoy a band or artist for years without ever mentioning them. I am the kind of person that will say "I don't know" when asked what movies she enjoys, even though I know very well. This guardedness extends to other areas of my life as well - specifically, my eating habits. I am a lifelong vegetarian, and yet, I realised recently, that in three or four years of blogging, I have never once blogged about it. I have been so terrified of being branded a preachy vegetarian, that I haven't shared with any of you just how much I love this lifestyle. Remaining quiet hasn't saved me from the evangelism of others, however. On a daily basis, I still receive the same line of questioning from meat-eaters who just don't understand the issue all that well. I respect everybody's right to make their own informed decisions and prefer to leave people to eat as they please. In the spirit of leaving people to eat as they please, here are a few things that most, if not all vegetarians, will be sick to death of hearing. RT to save a life.

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"So why are you vegetarian?" Firstly, this is none of your business. Secondly, it's a very defensive question to ask, because you're demanding that someone explain their personal choice to you just because it's different to your own. If I sat down at a table to have dinner with you and asked "so why do you eat meat?", you would think it rude and obnoxious. It's not cool the other way around. Thirdly, and most importantly, I am not your vegetarian library. There is plenty of easily Google-able information on the environmental, moral, and health-related reasons not to eat meat, so if you are genuinely interested in the answer to this question, please show some initiative and do the research yourself. Or not, whatever.

"Do you mind if I eat meat?" I find this question completely perplexing. The people who ask it seem to be under the impression that I don't share tables with people who have made different lifestyle choices to me, which is utterly ridiculous. I don't care what you eat while I am around. As long as the waiter doesn't mix up our orders, we're all good.

"I could never be a vegetarian" I didn't ask you to be, darling. And I don't care. None of us care.

"Where do you get your iron/protein?" This question is frankly embarrassing, and I wish people would look up "plant sources of iron and protein" before asking it of any veggie. It is actually incredibly easy to meet your protein and iron requirements on a veggie or vegan diet. Like most health-nuts, I use the app MyFitnessPal every day to make sure I hit my macro-nutrient goals, and I have my protein goal set much, much higher than the average because I lift weights and train very hard. I manage to eat a gram of protein per lb of my own body weight every single day. All on a plant-based diet. Shocking.

"Have you ever had bacon though?" Sometimes, when someone is particularly insecure about their own choices and goes heavily onto the defensive, they will start to mock you for being a vegetarian. They often act as if meat is some kind of forbidden fruit that must be torture for you to sit and watch someone else consume, or conversely, that it's disgusting and something they can torture you with. I've had people literally run through a list of all their favourite types of meat and ask me if I've ever tried them. I've had people wave a plate of bacon in front of my face as if it would scare and disgust me. I've had people trick me into eating meat, thinking it was hilarious. A lot of people like to make an awkward joke out of not being able to offer me some of their food as well, because they feel embarrassed. There's no need for this, guys. It's okay. Everything gonna be okay.

If you'd like some basic info on the logic behind a vegan/veggie lifestyle, then check out this presentation by The Vegan Atheist, and if you want tips on going vegetarian (and I say if, because it's totally up to you babes) then check out this video by Anastasjia Louise.   

Star Wars Tsums!

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I've been quietly hoping that they would bring out a Star Wars series of Tsum Tsums for ages. When I saw the preview images being released on Instagram a week or so ago I damn near hit the roof and shit my pants all at the same time. Star Wars is by far my favourite Disney-owned franchise, and such a huge, huge part of my childhood that I knew I'd end up getting most of the range. All the characters are from the original trilogy, which I think was a good decision, even though BB-8 would have made a perfect little tsum! Maybe one day they'll do collections for the modern triologies - I can imagine Jar Jar Binks and Darth Maul making awesome tsums as well. From this set I chose Princess Leia (technically my first Disney Princess) Yoda, and Wicket the Ewok to add to my collection. Wicket has to be my favourite - his little buck teeth are so adorable I could cry. I still want to get Chewie and R2-D2, but might go back and pick up a larger version of Chewie when they come into the shops in a couple of weeks. I want to use him as a fluffy cushion. The Tangled collection is being launched on 1st of March as well, so another Princess will definitely be happening.

In Defence Of Valentine's Day

I like this day. To me, it is a good day. No better or worse in its origins and message than any other holiday. No cataclysmic event in my life has ever fallen on February 14th, and although I've had ones that weren't so great, none of those have been so bad that they have cast the day forever into the shit pit. I celebrate it however I can, for the sake of celebration, whether I am single or smitten. Not everyone feels this way, and although I can understand why in some cases, some of the truly embittered sentiments get me down. For the last couple of weeks my Twitter and Bloglovin feeds have been full of people dreading this day - mostly long-term single people who are unhappy with that status, or those who are newly single and have never had to suffer the indignity of a Valentine's Day alone until now. I see a lot of grumbling and groaning, but most of it doesn't stand up to much scrutiny.

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Many object to it because of "consumerism", and yet I bet most of these people still open presents on Christmas morning, and probably even shoot "what I got for xmas" videos about them. I find it hard to object to buying flowers and chocolate for someone who will enjoy them on anti-capitalist grounds - to me that does not seem like a moral dilemma, when we spend so much on things that nobody enjoys. I spent £6 on a white plastic bum bag from Primark once. Now that is £6 I would like to have back.

Another common complaint is that the holiday places too much importance on romantic relationships. I find that the people who say that tend to be those who are guilty of this themselves, and who feel that being single or in a less-than-perfect relationship on this day makes them look bad or unwanted. When you pick apart their argument, it tends to boil down to "I don't want to see romantic love made into a big deal". On closer examination of their horror at celebrating monogamy or love or marriage, it often becomes obvious that these people secretly hold the ideal of a perfect, fairytale love so close to their heart that any reminder that they have not found it is too depressing to cope with. Very few people mind when others celebrate possessing a thing they do not want. I know happy singletons, happy friends with benefits, happy lovers, happy groups and poly-amorous people, and they are never the ones with a gripe against this day.

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Some say this day is pointless because it is "made up". I hate to break it to you, but every festival and holiday is made up. Unless you are a very religious person (which I doubt any of you regulars are, considering I am a demon sex witch come from hell to blog about butt plugs) then celebrations are just parties - days we can use and enjoy for our own purposes. The same people who complain that Valentine's Day is made up are the same ones giving Galentine's Day shout-outs to their besties, and I'm sure I don't have to ram the irony of that in your face any harder than I have done.

To my eyes, the most justified objection to this day is that it is heteronormative. It is true that there is far too much "boy meets girl" and not enough "love is everywhere". I completely agree that we need more diverse representations of love and relationships than we are currently sold, and to be honest I think one of the best ways we can do this is by shouting about the love that we do have, and what it means to us. Otherwise the only ones shouting will be those whose relationships fit the cookie cutter definition of happiness, and that definition will remain the same. So celebrate your fuck buddy. Celebrate your friends. Turn up at someone's door with a teddy bear. Buy flowers for yourself and spend the day with a sex toy. Pick up a random on Tinder and go get drunk together. For fuck's sake, have some fun with it.

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What It Means To Be Submissive

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I am a submissive. This is something I have had to say to many, when I first begin to try and make myself known to them. It's something I've had to write in text messages, throw out into the empty space of a phone call, and blurt out over coffee at 2pm on a Tuesday. It's something I've said many times while naked in bed with another human, trying to explain myself and get my needs met, if only for the night. And yet as hard as the phrase can be to let slip, and as loaded as it is with connotations, it still often fails to make me any better understood. The words often fall dead and heavy between me and whoever I am speaking to, only adding another layer of confusion. I wish more people had a better understanding of what BDSM, and specifically, dominance and submission, actually is, so that people like me could make ourselves better known with that phrase, which is after all, the only phrase we have.


"Submissive"; adjective: ready to conform to the authority or will of others


There isn't just one kind of submissive: Submission is a blanket term for a huge variety of sexual inclinations. It's a vague jab of a finger in the direction of a preference, and nothing more. You can't tell much about what someone will enjoy just because they are a submissive, or "sub" for short. There are many different submissive roles and personae, including littles, pets, slaves, dolls, and many others, all with their own desires, needs, culture, jargon and fantasies. In its essence, I would describe submission as finding joy through yielding to another.

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Different kinds of subs like different kinds of things: What is pleasing to a babygirl might be boring to a slave, and what is delicious for a slave might be tedious for a pet. A babygirl might love being called "princess" for example - a slave probably won't. A babygirl might love getting spanked, but pets might not. Who spanks a cat, after all? One particularly common mistake is assuming that all submissives love being called a slut or a whore or any old cuss word. This is simply not true. Subs tend to be very specific about the words that they do like to be called, because language is so important to maintaining any sexual fantasy.

A submissive is not the same thing as a masochist: Dominance and submission (or D/s) is about power and control; sadomasochism is about pain. The two often coexist, but they don't have to. There are a lot of submissives who don't enjoy pain-play. There's obviously nothing wrong with that at all and I do have a little masochistic streak, but it isn't a package deal.

There are active and passive forms of submission: Just like anyone, subs can take an active or a passive role in sexual play. For example, an active submissive might like begging, body worship, performing tasks or following instructions, and earning rewards. All of these things are a demonstration of mental submission, aiming to please, obedience, or whatever you want them to mean. A passive sub on the other hand might not enjoy any of that jumping through hoops; they usually yearn to feel physically overpowered, the illusion of force, or coercion. This could include restraints and bondage, reluctance role play, consensual non-consent, punishments, blackmail, or being chased. Basically anything that allows the sub to fully resist and feel for a moment as if they need take no responsibility.

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Submissives aren't submissive with everyone: Being submissive in bed rarely overlaps with how one wants to be treated at work or school or daily life. That would be ridic. We aren't submissive with every Dominant, or even with everyone we are attracted to. I've dated people who were not into BDSM, and my submissive side simply lies dormant, until I meet someone who brings it out again. It very much depends on the chemistry I have with each individual.

Being submissive is not incompatible with feminism: This should be obvious, but unfortunately it's not. A lot of people still feel that because you are a girl who enjoys submissive role-play, you must believe that it is somehow "where you belong", or that being submissive is "natural" for women. This is obviously bollocks, and I hold no such ideas. It goes without saying that there are just as many men who enjoy being submissive as there are women, and no one, regardless of gender, should be shamed for wanting something so normal. I consider myself to be a sex-positive feminist who strives to be intersectional. To me, there is nothing empowering about denying our sexual natures, whatever they may be.

If you want to learn more about the psychology behind submission and other sexual fantasies, then I recommend this video on BDSM 101 by Laci Green,  and this one on Understanding Sexual Fantasy from The School Of Life. The nipple pasties and luxury rope in these images are both available at Ann Summers.

Fun Valentine's Wallpapers For Your iPhone

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Like pretty much everyone, I've had some great Valentine's Days and some not-so-great ones. But I've never had one that was SO SHIT that I ended up in tears. At worst they usually turn out to be a bit of a non-day, spent in my pyjamas or working. In short, I have no beef with Valentine's Day. I've never been dumped on this day, nor had a fight with a paramour, nor a terrible date that ended badly - and I have every reason to expect that this February 14th will be full of joy, so I'm going to run with it. My own personal taste definitely comes into its own at this time of year; hearts, roses, red and pink are all my thangggg. As are sex and romance. Valentine's is basically a big carnival of chocolate and fucking and apologies, so I'm well down for it. To get my series of loosely Valentine's-inspired posts under-way, here's a selection of cute, quirky, fun wallpapers to decorate your iPhone with and get you in the mood.

25 While I Am 25

It is my birthday today. Being 25 seems a frighteningly adult concept. I can safely say, along with every other 25-year-old, that my life is not what I thought it would be by now. There are things I wanted to have "sorted", that are still very much unsorted. There are bits of me that feel "together", and bits that are still very much, well...bits. I read somewhere that thinking you should have your life together by now is a quick way to ruin your twenties, and I'd have to agree. I spent most of my teenage years worrying over things that didn't matter, and that had no impact on my life after all. I haven't really learned much it seems, and still waste time stressing over the trivial. I made no resolutions this year, and instead spent a bit of time thinking over not what I would like to achieve, but how I would like to live. These are 25 little changes that I want to make.

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#1 Use all my prettiest things, wear my best clothes, burn my beautiful candles, write in all my cute notebooks. Save nothing for a special occasion.

#2 Forgive

#3 Become a morning person, even if it takes a lot of coffee

#4 Explore all of Europe and most importantly, photograph it

#5 Stop worrying about damage and dye my hair a pastel colour (I have one in mind, but I'm not telling just yet)

#6 Take cute selfies with my lover and be less paranoid about posting them online. I can remember a time when I was less cynical, less scared of who was watching, and I would like to get back there. Not just because they deserve it, but because I do too.

#7 Get macarons from the real Laduree, and Instagram the shit out of them

#8 Finally start taking trapeze, pole, and circus art classes

#9 Get into a proper skincare routine

#10 Ruthlessly clear out everything I own that I would not miss, as often as possible

#11 Get my ears pierced all the way up until I look like a satanic elf

#12 Learn more about photography

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#13 Tell people to fuck off when they deserve it

#14 Talk more, and text less

#15 Meet more bloggers that I love, so that I can love them in the flesh

#16 Stop apologising for how specific my coffee order is

#17 Read more books that make me believe in magic

#18 Do kind things, quietly

#19 Spend a day listening to miserable music and making morbid art

#20 Take my camera out more, and stop complaining about the weight like a little lazy bitch

#21 Eat more cupcakes

#22 Sort out the dull, bureaucratic tasks that intimidate me but that need to be done so that I can grow 

#23 Get naked more

#24 Vlog

#25 Take the time to put on lip liner