The Ultimate Pick-Me-Up

I dare you to watch this clip of Louis Theroux singing (again) in his first Weird Weekend and not smile. Impossible!

Watch the full episode here.

LET'S DUEL

DESNUDA

Make a gif

Targets for Self-Betterment, Summer 2011

1. Cleanse, tone and moisturize every day. No excuses. No days off.

2. Brush teeth more than twice a day.

3. Remember that men are sources of fun, not stress. No to arguments yes to dates.

4. Look after my friends . Accidents can and do happen. Call me when you get home baby gurrrrl.

5. Go big with dinner if I’m planning to go big with drinks.

6. Have more sober dates.

7. Read more modern novels. Yeah, I know Hemingway’s great, but there are plenty more fish in the sea.

8. Less judgement.

9. More fruit.

10. Try not to dress like this every day. Yeah, Liberty print + black jumper = winner, but there are a lot of clothes in the world waiting for me to dive into them…

The Misleading Man

I can't watch this video without thinking about a story an old lady told me about when she met Dali on a Spanish island when she was sixteen and he lured her into his bedroom and made a big spectacle of revealing his member, which turned out to be as tiny as one of the points of his moustache. I hope he's a distant Spanish uncle. Sorcha Daly Salvador Dali Salvador Daly.

Fangirl

Every little girl wants to be Serena van der Woodsen. While E8 may be a long way from the UES, I’ve found a new way to make my life a little more like hers. I’ve tried drawing on the mole, perfected the hair swing and the four-year-old giggle, and short of cashing in the inheritance to stock my wardrobe full of Marchesa and Chanel, had hit a road block. But my new ingenious idea cost under £3 and took little more than half an hour of my time.

Like a teenage girl at a sleepover, my SVDW girlcrush hit hard when I saw her bedroom at the Waldorf penthouse. Its focal point is a black butterfly sculpture that hangs above the bed, made from recycled cans by artist Paul Villinski especially for the show. Here’s how I got the look on the cheap.

1. Go to Paintworks/ Cowling & Wilcox and buy some black mirror card.

2. Google image search 'butterfly template' and print it off.

3. Draw around your template on the card about 30 times.

4. Cut your butterflies out carefully.

5. Use some blutack to stick your butterflies to the wall. You can go swirly like Serena, or catch them randomly mid flight like I have.

The finished article should look something like this:

Now you can call your Nate and have a very Upper East Side sleepover!

xoxo

An Open Letter to My Miniskirt Collection

You know how much I love you but I think we need a break. We’ve been together too long. I’m still young, honey, I need to experiment, to flirt with different lengths of skirts and maybe even try out some trousers. I’m not saying I haven’t enjoyed my time with you. In fact, I think you helped me discover myself, helped me grow into a real adult. But now I’ve made it there’s simply no space for you in my life anymore. Our relationship is unsustainable; it has no future.

Our first meeting was a rebellion. Well, it was the first time I’d ever cut without measuring. I didn’t care that I wasn’t going in a straight line. And there you emerged, out of my favourite 501s. The next day when I went to watch the boys play rugby after school, some of them were watching us. One invited us for a milkshake afterwards.

You were there when I had my first kiss. I think you even set it up. You inspired me to buy hair straighteners, make-up, and sexy underwear as you teased to let it show. You went with everything. I could feel and look awful from the waist up but with you on my hips I was always powerful, desirable, how a woman should be.

I never got on with jeans. They did the worst things to me, restrained me, and made my thighs feel self-conscious. But with you everything was different. I felt free, I felt alive, and I felt happy. I fell for you too hard and too fast. Suddenly there were no other options. I overlooked mid-calf skirts and trousers that had been there for me for years before you came along. And for what? Because you made me feel sexy? What does that even mean?

I tried to give you up, to get back in the jeans game via hot pants. But that was worse. I could take my hemline even higher with the comfort of fabric protecting my crotch. It’s not like I even wanted people to see my ass. That was just an unfortunate side effect that society liked to exaggerate. I felt taller, skinnier, you were kind to my ample behind and flattering to my small waist, you were perfect for me!

You started getting me into trouble. First, with my parents. They worried that I’d gone off to live in the city, you hanging around everyday, and what was I doing? I could be taking class A-drugs, stealing or, and you made them think this, showing my ass off to earn cash. My brothers felt uneasy introducing me to their friends because you were always there and what were they to think? Then there’s work. I’ve had to invest in a pair of ‘modesty shorts’ to please my boss. He says it’s not professional for customers to see their barista’s knickers.

I have to think about the future. I too readily accepted the moniker ‘the girl who always wears miniskirts’ in my late-teenage years. Now I’m into adulthood and I must leave it behind. I’m afraid that nobody takes me seriously when I’m with you. I need to start wearing pencil skirts, enjoy feeling a hemline dangling below my knees. I can’t get married, raise a family and get a mortgage in a miniskirt. I need to leave you behind.

I can still see you in evenings, at night, some weekends, in secret…

No. We must part ways. Tomorrow morning I’m going shopping for jeans, and I’m dropping you off at the charity shop on my way there.

Goodbye, old friend. It’s been fun.

Miss Ms Sorcha Daly

Illustration by Nicola Steele, words by me.