We love Henry Holland. Especially his great ‘Do me in the parc Marc tee’ from The House of Holland and his collaboration with Pretty Polly. Now we can also read his adventures trough fashion land on the website of the British Vogue.
Tag: blog
All right already. Just cut it out. I’m fed up with it. Enough is enough. A little bit is quite fun. But this is the bloody limit. P-L-E-A-S-E, can someone negotiate with the Weather Emperor and try to convince his Royal Highness to stop the cold, white, slippery mess!?
Last Thursday night I was sound asleep and dreaming about laying on a bounty beach; a delicious raspberry mojito in one hand, a gossip magazine in the other hand, a very handsome lifeguard behind me waving a palm leaf to make sure the heat stayed bearable… I was just about to ask the lifeguard to rub my back with some sun screen when I heard a rustling noise. Like someone was browsing through a pile of magazines, trying to set a world record. I looked around but I couldn’t spot another creature on this bounty beach, besides the lifeguard and me.
It didn’t happen overnight, I always was that kind of person. As long as I can remember, I’ve been like that. Ever since I was a young, cute little lady, my parents used to mock me. They told me that I reminded them of the fairytale “The Princess and the Pea”. Why? Because I could act pretty spoiled. And because I could act highly sensitive.
All throughout my life I’ve never had any problems with this biennial visit. Usually, especially when I was younger, it was a family trip. When I grew older, it became a quite convenient escape in between school hours. If possible, I tried to bend the rules and took more time than necessary for my visit. I just spent some more time reading magazines in the waiting room, not even disturbed by all the drilling sounds for one bit.
Ever woken up with the feeling that a bus ran you over? Or a hurdle of cows. Or a dozen of bulldozers if you like. And don’t lie to me; I’m absolutely sure that everyone has experienced this kind of mornings. With the following thought as immediate result:’ oh my god, I’m never gonna drink a sip of alcohol in my entire life again’…
I don’t know what the case with you guys is, but for me it’s quite obvious. Shopping is a feel-good activity. Some people (a whole lot if you ask me, sometimes I feel surrounded by this category) only buy things they desperately need, like breakfast-lunch-dinner groceries, matches to light the stove, new toilet paper when they ran out and so on. But hey, do these people know it’s really fun, soothing and enjoyable to shop? Not just for the necessary groceries and such, but for just about anything?
Just one night of sleep and one morning and afternoon of work and then…. the new blog of Chifff! We can’t wait, you?!?
When it comes to my hairdo my thoughts are quite complicated. Or should I just say that I’m rather whimsical. On basically everything, but let’s just focus on one thing at the time… My hairdo. One day I want it short and dark brownish, the other day I want my hair in a Goldilocks kinda way. In this light it’s easily to imagine my thousands kind of hairdo’s throughout the years. I’ve had a short bob, braids, extensions, a long blond coupe, bangs, a very dark brown phase (and again: NO. I DIDN’T DYE IT BLACK. IT WAS DARK BROWN THAT ALMOST SEEMED BLACK. THERE’S A DIFFERENCE!), and I could go one for a while.
I have a confession to make. Or to be completely honest, I have several confessions to make. All my life I’ve never ever got myself a manicure. Or a pedicure. Or got my eyebrows plucked. Or went to a beauty salon to get my legs, armpits or whatever body part waxed. So well, now you know: I’m not a Brazilian waxxer. If it’s confession time, I’ll have to leave nothing out, right?