I trawled through my usual selection of blogs today and, am yet again, put to shame. Not only by the extraordinary selection of outfits on display, but also the high standard of photography. Compared to my little bedroom with my trusty tripod, they might as well be shooting for Vogue. I suppose the combination of a willing photographer and good weather, plus the time to trot along sidewalks and the like posing does help.
When another person is holding the camera (unless they are of the deeply infuriating type who says 'look happy' in an exasperated way whenever you try to look vaguely cool and posed) it is far easier to achieve a natural expression, which is why in all my photos I am either pouting like a drunk or smiling in a frightfully smug fashion. So I may have to ask my mum to take some photos from now on.
Which means she will see my wardrobe. Uh-oh.
Ok, apology over. I did promise yesterday that I would be dragging out my demin shirt from the jumble sale that is my wardrobe (except it's not for sale, it's just a jumble), so here it is.
Irritatingly, the camera has added ten pounds and subtracted all the cool poise heels added. But never mind - it was quite refreshing not to wear black and when I'm not pouting like an idiot it looks passable.
I wore it with pink lipstick, for a change. It was Mac but there's an amazing Lancome one that I want next. I love lipsticks.
And the necklace is Thomas Sabo (of course; their new range is coming out soon, v excited) and was a useful addition to the ensemble as Cheryl Cole came on my radio just as I was taking photos and I needed it to ward off the evil.
Until next time! And I promise for better lit more interesting photos next time.