Wednesday, 24 October 2012

Why I'll never be as glam as Italians...

I recently had the good fortune to visit Sorrento in Italy, and it was my first visit to Italy, like ever.

Beautiful, no?

I only had four days there, but it gave me enough time to realise a few things:

  • I f*cking love pizza. I didn't see this coming because I'm not really a pizza fan
  • I hate England. No, actual hate. It might be beautiful in places, but it's still depressing
  • I will never be as glam as Italians
Now, I generally don't use the word cool to sum myself up, nor would anyone that knows me. I generally get 'quirky' or 'funny' OR LOUD (Deal With It) which works for me. If I'm wearing my brogues, I might even be called 'cute' but not cool.

Here's why I'll never be as cool as Italians:

1. I don't speak Italiano
Oh heck, Italian is such a cool language. Even if it's limited to just being spoken in Italy, I could sit and listen to two Italians chatting all day. Hell I don't even think they use punctuation! That would just slow it all down.

2. I don't smoke
I know it's not cool not to smoke but I don't smoke. If I was a glam Italian girl, I'd be able to pull a cigarette out of the packet with my teeth, light it effortlessly (whilst having dangerously shiny hair) and I'd be able to breathe the smoke out of my nostrils while chatting a mile a minute in Italian.

3. I don't own a Vespa or anything with a motor
Two wheels good, two feet bad. I can't describe the feeling you get when a glam Italian girl whizzes past you on her scooter laughing away to her friend on the back. It's probably the most inadequate you'll ever feel! When they're walking down the road with their helmets on, don't you dare laugh... they STILL look cool. Help.

4. If I did own a scooter, I'd have Helmet Hair
Yep. My hair hates me. It likes to mould itself to anything, so if I happen to tuck a bit behind my ear, when untucked it keeps the shape of my ear. I don't even want to think what would happen if I wore a helmet in the hot sun... Sheesh.

5. Talking of hair...
While we're on the subject of hair, I noticed during my trip how sleek everyone's hair seemed to be. My hair has never once been called sleek, the closest it's been called is SLICK man, yeah. Slick.

In conclusion: I will never be as glam as Italian women and would look stupid wearing a helmet.

So there we are. Pretty sure there are more reasons but that'll do for now. Gotta keep the self-esteem in some kind of check. Rule Brittania. Where are my brogues?

Tuesday, 23 October 2012

An Italian Confession.

I've just got back from a long weekend in Italy. Yah. Sorrento, bless you.

For those of you uneducated berks, here is Sorrento in all it's glory:


Let me tell you something you probably don't know about me. Before my trip to Italy, I'd never once finished an entire pizza to myself. That's right, you heard me. Now back off!

Never. Not even when I'd had a skinful and thought that a £2.50 pizza from the local takeaway was a religion. My lack of ability to gorge consume always meant one good thing though...

Pizza for breakfast.

Let me tell you something that will now shock you to your very core now you know that about me...

In Italy, I ate two whole pizzas in one day.

Gulp. I know, I'm surprised you didn't hear about it on the news already.



Never has the rule, and it is a rule 'when in Rome' applied with more severity and seriousness.

If I may, your honour, I will just say that pizza in Italy is like no pizza I've ever had before. The dough is so much lighter, so it's devious because you don't feel that dodgy-stodgy-kill-me-now-hand-me-the-elasticated-waistband-trousers feeling with them. Those cheeky Italians know EXACTLY what they're doing when they knead that heavenly dough. I had serious cheese related nightmares that night, one that involved Danny from The Script chasing me. Dear God.

Plus, I was helping the local economy which I understand is in a right shitstate at the moment.

The moral of todays story? Go to Italy, eat pizza and you'll help the local economy.


Tuesday, 9 October 2012


Recently I've been thinking about happiness. It's quite disconcerting when you're just going about your daily life and something stops you in your tracks and you realise that you could be So. Much. Happier.

And the silly thing is that YOU are in control of your happiness levels. Everything that makes you unhappy can be changed.

Unhappy with your job? Change it

Unhappy with your house? Move!

Unhappy in your relationship? Guess what? There are people out there who WANT to be with you. Don't you DARE make yourself miserable waiting.

Life is too short.

It's your life.

There are people out in the world without the means to change their situation, you're not one of them. You want to know why I know that?

You're reading this on a COMPUTER OR A SMART PHONE. So you're light years ahead of some other people out there who would dearly love change but cannot reach it.

I'm making a change. More to follow on that...

Wednesday, 3 October 2012

Has the world gone mad?

I just saw this picture on The Sartorialist (guilty pleasure alert!) and HAD to share it. Dahhhhlingg.


I quite want one though. But in purple.