Best Coral Lipstick

Shopping around in Winchester, I tried to find summer's trend of coral lips, searching in boots and superdrug. My finding proved that Maybelline's coral crush has the best pigment and gives the best "coral" colour. They sold out of this shade in Superdrug alone.

Falling in Love with Photography

Today, I vistited my Secondary School's Art Festival, and whilst pondering over the GCSE work, and dreading to take a peek at mine, I secretly couldn't wait to see the A Level work. I seeped through to the Photography corner where I was delighted with pictures that looked like they could've gone really wrong, and just look like a block of flats, but instead, it was moving, and the different levels took me away. It gave me a realisation that this is what I've always loved, not specifically photography, but all forms of Art. I love learning to love a piece of Art, and how it can change you from just being indifferent towards it, to being besotted. And sometimes, only a picture is needed to set off a whole range of emotions and issues.



But I just thought I'd show a cool one.

Janelle Monae's Style

I adore Janelle's style because it is so striking but still sophisticated using minimilistic colours, keeping it black and white. At Glastonbury, her stage performance was spectacular.


Her style also looks great with a burst of colour too. Which do you prefer?

Artistic Interpretation

Lady Gaga inspires me to take a greater interest in art because she artistically interprets her videos to indicate a controversal issue by the use of her outfits and overall music video content. I personally love her outrageous outfits, and although I wouldn't look at them for first hand inspiration in my outfits, she definately allows us to go all out fashion forward and not feel awkward or embarrased. In her earlier videos she was more "pretty", such as in Love Game, Poker Face and Just Dance.



As Lady Gaga's album "The Fame" increased in popularity, she became more daring with her style, knowing she had nothing to lose. I applause her bravery. Although I realise she may have gone too far, influenced by my vegetarian friend;
Another side to her fashion may not be fashion at all, but just dressing up. But who is to say fashion is being yourself, but instead, your alter ego. Whatever fashion is, or what our heart says it is, we must embrace it. Fashion is neither right nor wrong, it's our opinion. Lady Gaga went all out with her wacky style when she created her extended album "The Fame Monster".

Her style can sometimes be scary and shocking, but I personally admire that about her. She knows the music industry needs a change, to shove it to the other end of the spectrum by the use extreme fashion. Instead of covering up with a blonde wig and piling on makeup, she embraces her beauty from inside by wearing peices that express her crazy personality. We will never know the real Lady Gaga. But that keeps her image all the more interesting, she's a mystery...

Women who inspire my style

Rihanna's style and makeup is bright, eyecatching and daring. To use her look as inspiration you could team a brightly coloured leopard print top (as seen in "rude boy"- such an awesome music video!) with purple eyeshadows to allow green or hazel eyes to really pop.I would stay away from a bold lip and eyemakeup together as it is too striking. But she pulls it off with the funky nail colour. This is my interpretation of her look:

Beyonce is a fierce woman with attitude and soul. I'm sure many saw her Glastonbury performance, whilst members of the audience were shocked to hear she is the first female to stage Glastonbury's Pyramid Stage. Her Feminist songs inspire me to try my hardest and realise my potencial. Her aztec style recreates the heat of the summer fitted perfectly with neutral bronzed makeup for a sunkissed look.

A Day Out to Cambridge

Having never been to Cambridge, I relied purely on my imagination to foresee the day ahead. From previous experience of my parents and there explanation of their visit, I thought there would be fields of lush green grass bedding ornate, stone, authentic buildings ravishing with religious culture. Instead my eyes focused on a gargole with a CTV camara poking from its fang lined mouth. Up early after a party surrounded by drunkards whilst, I myself, was stone cold sober (not intentionally). My Family and I travelled to Winchester train station covered by a grey thick sky and water spraying off the tyres, fast on the road so we didn't miss the train. On the train I could't get into the frame of mind for what to expect, which was exiting but daunting. Sitting opposite my grandparents I subconciously thought we were travelling to Weymouth, a place I was familiar with, which comforted me. But then I realised that this wasn't the case again when an American student asked my baffled father how long the journey would be until we reached Cambridge. He looked, unsurprisingly to my Mother for help. Briskly walking down through the town in Cambridge, well-dressed, ralph lauren-shirted students wisped by on there pastel, slim straw basket bicycles, wishing I could be someone like that when I attended University. My brother, a future Cambridge student, of which I am very proud, explained every nook and crany of Cambridge, after my never ending tedious questions fired at him had drawn him to his weakness of blurring out all information he had, like a robot but with passionate emotion. I have a tendancy to, unintensionally, act more simple-minded than my normal self at these moments, in order so that he can tell me information with all its basics, even if I didn't need them, just so I could make sure we're on the same page. I entered through the grand door entrance and tightroped around the lime fresh grass, careful not to disobey the nonexistant sign. A band started to play as we watched on the balcony at them, careful not to become the centre of attension. We grabbed the first bench we saw and I absorbed the band with enjoyment. The music throughout there time on stage was lovely. Including pieces such as jazzed up "thriller". My first experience of live opera had appeared, or at least my first acknoledgement of an opera. It was light and funny and very impressive use of vocal cords and the learning of the vast amount of lines had definately paid off! Whilst enjoying the line up of performances, I stretched backwards with my arms in order to grip the edge of the bench, it turns out, I knocked a cup of coke of rum (which would have been 100% a few years ago) on the floor which flew over the whole of the red speckled flowerbed. I turned around to guess my fate, the man sitting two spaces away looked at me stunned and then stared at the cup filled with dirt, picked it up, with a jaw dropped expression, and I put my trust in him not to tell the man who returned that I left him a little present. After a bit of banter, he winked at me and the then the other man returned. My Grandma "grassed me up" as my Grandad would say, and the man, after embarrasing me for five minutes, had a long conversation with my Grandad about Carrabean rum. We decided to stay to watch their Reggae act. My brother wanted to absorb the overall atmosphere by sitting at the very front, I turned around and I couldn't see anyone in our 100 yards radius, I blushed. The drums beat my ear drums and I decided to return a few rows back, whilst my brother pulled my arm unwillingly. Later on, after the song, they dedicated to song to "maz". Unfortunately our Grandfather is really called Baz, so my mother and I corrected the Reggae performance, unfortunately my Grandparents had already returned home, leaving us to catch many trains, tubes and buses because of the construction work. We returned home 5 hours later, exhausted.