One Direction Fan Fiction with Jackson Davies - video #2

Friday, 19 December 2014


I recently did the mundane task of clearing my trash can out and I found a piece of fan fiction I'd once written. 
I am pained, I am scarred and I am always ready to take the piss out of myself. 
My lovely friend Jack joined me in a cleansing experience whereby he read me some writing by somebody else and I got to assess it like an unqualified school teacher. 
If you're interested in hearing Niall Horan get his penis out and a 15 year old girl laminate a copy of 50 Shades Of Grey and consider that as vague entertainment, please do give it a watch and validate me in some way at the end. 
Love you bye!

Fourteen Pieces of Advice I Found Somewhere in 2014

Thursday, 18 December 2014


1. Don't do little cries. 
Feelings demand to be felt so give them the justice they deserve.
Pick a day, probably a Sunday because they're already depressing, grab a bottle of wine
and cry.
Full on cry. 
Cry until there's snot on your chin and more mascara on your knuckles than eyelashes.
Then call a friend and cry at them so you don't get the urge to post a pathetic tweet like
'I love crying NOT lol'.

2. Write love letters, but don't send them.
You are NOT Jane Austen.
Crack out your best penmanship on that flecked handmade
Peruvian paper you once bought hungover in Shoreditch and tell
someone you're madly in love with them and that they're great.
Just don't send it.
Adolescent men, (adolescence in guys tends to span until they're around thirty-fucking-years-old) already have enough on their plate; like being annoying and suddenly deciding they're not ready for a relationship.
So don't give them more fodder by kissing the back of an envelope and stalkerishly remembering their address from that drunken UBER one time. Trust me.

3. Don't opt for glass noodles in Itsu.
They're impossible to eat without it looking like you're vomiting small white worms back into your miso soup.
Udon noodles, are your friend.
You can put sincere trust in them and their nice thick.. girth?

4. Invest in a blanket scarf.
A really big Lenny Kravitz style bad boy.
One day, you might miss your last train and need to nap in the toilet cubicle of Paddington Station.
The blanket scarf will double as a pillow and duvet and you can later cocoon it around your face as you leave so no one knows who just fell asleep sat on the toilet.

5. Gay clubs are really, really great.
Never pay £25 entrance for a snobby, overpriced, white wash Mayfair club ever again.
Getting off with a girl will be less embarrassing and shameful than leaving with that prick Foxton's Estate Agent that you will undoubtedly end up fluttering your eyelashes at for a drink because you spent all of your money at the door getting in.
Or worse still, on the cloakroom. 

6. Write really shit poetry.
Rhyme 'I thought it was undying love' with 'until you shat on me like an un-peaceful dove'.
Taylor Swift started somewhere, you might actually remaster these one day.
Also, just really funny.

7. Don't pay attention to the time. 
You're 19 now, you can shove two fingers up at a bed time.
You're a woman.
Baths at 4am and cereal at 11pm are small but wonderful things.

8. Don't do shots of rum.
You see that idiot gracefully spluttering his entire stomach content into the gutter as his friends are getting in a cab home?
He did shots of rum.
Don't for any reason, shot rum.

9. Talk to strangers.
Not ones that look like Fagen from Oliver Twist or ones that might have a big empty van waiting for you, but the old lady on the tube or the haggard banker,
They know things you don't.

10. Scrap number 2.
Just don't actually even think about writing love letters.
Ever.

11. You don't have to apologise for anything you don't think is worth apologising for. 
You'll look like a bit of a dick, but a dick that actually means what their actions suggest.
And that's alright, I think.

12. Unfollow inspiring Instagrams. 
They're not inspiring.
They're just a collection of nice sounding vowels captioning an alright photo of a wood or something.
Inspire yourself by knowing you don't need someone to remind you to know,
'If it's not okay, it's not the end.'
You've got this.

13. Have sex in a really unconventional place.
You can still blame the stupidity of youth now and also there are few things better than playing 'never have I ever' and being able to beat fifteen people because you once got laid under the sound desk of a radio studio.
During a show.

14. Don't get poo anxiety. 
Everyone has to poo.
That's why everyone has a toilet in their house.
Just wait for their hot brother to make a cup of tea and go and enjoy yourself.

Señor Ceviche, Kingly Court - My Favourite Date Spot

Thursday, 4 December 2014


All of my friends mock me for being a 'serial dater'.
They've all exhausted the joke, pondering upon my lack of keeping a night in the week free where I'm not out for dinner or drinks with someone new.
I let them laugh and sit in brief bemusement because what they think is a serious comittment issue is actually a more serious love of finding new places to stuff my face and get a bit drunk.
Señor Ceviche in Kingly Court has newly become my new favourite date night spot and as part of my bid to take Jack on 'a holiday at home', I thought I'd let him come and see what all the fuss was about.
Cassava croquettes with anji panca sour cream
Based on the bohemian district of Lima, Barranco, the 25 year old owner (jesus christ I better get to work) Harry Edmeades has crafted a sanctuary of Peruvian flavours and planted them right in the middle of Soho. 
It's as charming as it is electric, fluorescent posters and neon accents on the furnishings sewn together with a sway of island music that pushes your whittled central city mindset into a place far from here.
We ordered as much food as we could fit on the table, sharing unwillingly between us as we fought for the last mouthful of each dish.
Tempura baby squid, prawns and market fish with jalepeno tiger milk
The tempura baby squid, prawns and market fish with jalepeno tiger milk was incredible, so much so we ordered another plate. 
If it wasn't for the Tamarind BBQ Chicken Anticuchos (tender chicken skewers covered in what we both agreed on was the best bbq-style sauce we'd ever licked off of a plate) we'd probably have ordered it again between each cocktail.
Equally, Señor Ceviche's signature dish was divine.
For the last two weeks I've delved haphazardly into the world of attempting a vegan lifestyle but obviously (...OBVIOUSLY!!!) I had to give it a miss when we arrived here.
However I did try and do my fill of greens and ordered the Chimbote and Cusco Quinoa, that whilst weren't as good as their meat and fishy counterparts were still pretty exquisite as sides.
Fries covered in spicy peruvian cheese sauce and tomato fondue
As the meal came to an end and I'd had enough Ayahuasca cocktails to try and pronounce everything proudly on the menu, I let out a little weep.
Mostly, because the chocolate brownie and coconut ice-cream dessert was so good.

I don't think I've ever seasoned a restaurant write-up so kindly, but this place really is all it's cracked up to be.

Good job Harry, I'll definitely see you in there for a drink sometime soon. 

A real life actual first youtube video

Wednesday, 3 December 2014

Guess who did a thing?
I did a thing!
Imagine my pointy fingers averting your eyes down to the comment/subscribe/validate me button. 

xoxoxox


A Holiday At Home - W Hotel Leicester Square

Tuesday, 2 December 2014


Working and playing in London and not living in it means I rely on my friend Jack to tuck me in on his sofa more often than I should.
He's fried me enough hangover cures, he's paid for enough Ubers and he has looked after me enough times for me to know that buying the first round of drinks next Tuesday night isn't nearly a worthy thank you.

Both having been through a relatively tumultuous and emotional November, I was ready for a break and I knew he more than anyone deserved a night of ludicrous opulence and a cuddle in a towelling dressing gown. 
So I returned the favour, taking him on a holiday in his own city, instead of tucking him onto my own couch I found the best bed I could in London.

The W Hotel in Leicester Square quickly became our own little Utopia. 
Checking in under the twinkly disco balls, we quick stepped into what felt like a Sophie Ellis-Bexter music video set and made ourselves comfortable. 
As we assessed the surroundings, (Jack had to ply me with Prosecco so I'd stop squealing at how beautiful everything was...), we stumbled upon possibly the best tonic we didn't even know we needed.
Lady of DJ dreams Annie Mac has carefully curated 200 albums on vinyl for you to pick from and order to your room.
WE HAD A RECORD PLAYER DELIVERED TO OUR ROOM, WHAT IN GODS NAME IS THIS PARADISIACAL PLACE?

 Forget the mini bottles of Hendricks and Belvedere in the fridge... THEY HAD PEZ DISPENSERS.
PEZ... DISPENSERS...!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 We chatted into the early morning in a uniform of white slippers and bathrobes and put our lives in place. I've met some truly incredible people this year by complete fluke and Jack very quickly became my most treasured. He's helped me realise how important being unapologetically yourself truly is and that wanting to have fun isn't a vice to be shunned. It's incredible how in a matter of months a stranger can become so important. Don't waste and flit introductions, there are unbelievable people out there waiting for you to find. 
 In the morning we took a short walk downstairs to the Spice Market for breakfast which is usually the home of some of the loveliest South Eastern cuisine around dinner time and tucked into a much more continental looking breakfast instead.
 Yes... with all on offer... Jack genuinely did order himself a bacon sandwich and a bowl of Coco Pops...
We may or may not have also filmed a video or two for you whilst we were there...
A big thank you to the W Hotel for washing us of our miserable zombie shadows and transforming us back into the excitable people we once were.
If you're looking for somewhere to stay the next time you're over in our neck of the woods, or even if like me you just needed to be reminded of how beautiful London can be, I can't recommend this place enough.

What I'm Wearing

Friday, 28 November 2014

Dress - Zara // Shoes - Ralph Lauren // Rings - Topshop
[Photographs - Pauline Bossdorf]

Spicy Parsnip Soup & Sweet Potato Salad

Wednesday, 26 November 2014


It's been four days since I last touched a chicken nugget. Four days since I last uttered 'Can we get some more bread please?'. Four days since I shoved on my trainers to do the chocolate run to the corner shop.
I'VE BEEN SOME HEALTHY VEGAN BITCH FOR FOUR DAYS AND I'M EXASPERATINGLY PROUD.

It's actually easier than you think to eat clean. Food that's good for you can taste spectacular if you don't just bite into a raw carrot and expect it to curb your carb cravings. 
This spicy parsnip soup with a sweet potato salad is filled with things that are brilliant for you and it tastes pretty damn good too.
Preheat your oven to 180C and then chop your parsnips and cover them in olive oil and chilli and bake them for around 45 minutes
At the same time on a separate baking tray, place chopped sweet potato and drizzle them with some olive oil and a pinch of sea salt for 45 minutes
Let the parsnips and sweet potato cool and then chuck all of the soup ingredients into a blender and blitz until smooth! 
Whilst you heat up your soup in a pan, throw all of the salad ingredients together and give a big squeeze of lime over the top!
Ta-da!

Let me know if you try it out :-)

 

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