The Laziest Blogger

I'm really not very good at this lark. It's taken a day of melancholy and hangover to remind me that this blog actually exists. In all fairness, the Internet in my student halls in Düsseldorf is terrible. But my laziness and lack of excitement in my life is the main culprit.

First thing's first: Düsseldorf. What a city?! Die längste Theke der Welt lives up to its reputation, not as cheap or chic (shabby chic, naturally) as Berlin, but still reassuringly crazy.

Home of some of the most exciting German designers and the infamous Königsallee (the German Champs-Élysées, one could say), the style here is a bit more conservative and polished than in the capital, but still the German standard of 'no heels on a night out' is adhered to. Rubbish for us petites!

I was lucky enough to see the God of Electro, Moby himself, performing a DJ set in a gorgeous club on the Mediahafen (3001) last night, such a fabulous venue to see your hero. It's a shame that some of the company was of a poor quality (the latest non-committal boy toy being attached to the face of another, the German weirdo in specs who thought my ass was public property - makes me sick to my feminist core), but a jolly good dance followed by some lovely chats and a cup of tea remedy everything, and today is so much brighter.

The weather has been, until now, remarkably nice and I've been able to crack out my favourite summer dresses, including the fabulous red check vintage number I picked up for a few Euros in Paris and rehemmed to within an inch of its life. Photos to follow soon I'm sure.

I'm really so thankful I've been able to have this experience. If you'd have told me a year ago that my life would be so varied, I would've told you where to go. Just this week, I have a date with a handsome German planned and a trip to my second Heimat, Berlin to hang out with old friends and make some plans for my eventual move there after my graduation. I also bought a maxi-dress. That fits. Oh my Lady Gaga.

Be good to each other people, I miss you all so much but this is the best thing I could've ever done. Truly blessed right now.

The Times, They Are A-Changing

So, I've finally found a space in my busy schedule for a new blog post. If this was a spoken statement it would be dripping with sarcasm, because since I returned to the homestead I have done very little. I had good intentions or reading at least 10 pages of 'Hammer's German Grammar and Usage' a day and writing an essay on German terrorism in the late 1960s for fun, but nothing has actually materialised. I have chosen a new pair of spectacles though, with leopard print arms. I will never tire of animal print, it is a love inherited from my Nan, a woman who I consider to be the best dressed octogenarian of all time.

OK, my life has moved to a slower pace for the moment, but it's good. It's given me time to catch my breath and call somewhere home. I haven't been in one country for more than three months at a time since last spring! Coincidently, the place I called home back then was the beautiful Welsh student town of Aberystwyth, the place I've been dreaming about since I left there! It's not cosmopolitan, there a very few shops, but the people that live there are the best friends anyone could ever wish for and the scenery is spectacular.

I'll be back there on Tuesday for some much needed partying and fancy dress for my early 21st birthday celebrations and I'm excited! I started sewing my outfit today and it's going to be a bit more conservative than I'd usually choose. The theme is 'travel', a nice broad topic so people can be as daring as they want. It's not as fun as my 'fashion-disaster' theme last year, which resulted in this bad-boy:

(unfortunately you can't see the matching leopard-print bag and shoes in this picture...).

I seriously need to get some good outfit photos on here, so far we've had Roy Cropper and fashion-disaster, I promise I look semi-chic sometimes!)

Natural beauty

I thoroughly enjoyed Suzanne Moore's article on the changing face of the perceived feminine ideal on the Guardian website. Click here to read it and let me know what you think of it too.

The Hate List 1

So, the postman obviously put his back out trying to carry all my Valentine's cards and gifts on Monday... oh well. Onwards and upwards, and to show I'm really not bitter, here is my first (of many, I'm sure) rundown of those little things that niggle me.

1. Three-quarter length sleeves; Just no. When is there ever an appropriate weather condition for these abominations? And why to manufacturers insist on making a great deal of attractive jumpers lacking in the sleeve department? Does anyone love their forearms that much? Have the fast fashion bigwigs never experience that cringey feeling on trying to put anything over three-quarter sleeves without getting that disgusting feeling bunchy weird arm look? And don't even get me started on 'bracelet length' coats and jackets. Ten types of wrong.

2. Maxi dresses; Now, don't get me wrong, on the right person, the maxi dress can look stunning, however, this person is usually nearly 6 ft. I am, however, only 5ft3in. Why can't they do a petite-maxi? It would be the perfect oxymoronic dress.

3. Leather; (except shoes of course, I'm not vegan or nuttin'!) Face it, although the rags might tell us that a pair of leather shorts or a leather mini is a must-have, there are very few people who can pull it off without looking like a dominatrix or Jeremy Clarkson, or both. I don't even look good in leather jackets. My last foray into the biker chick look (a gorgeous sage green ToSho number) made me look like Roy Cropper. Seriously.

4. Not glamming up; I admit that I am writing this whilst wearing a particularly fetching pair of tartan pyjama bottoms and a man's tee, but that is acceptable as nobody is going to see me like this. I just get upset with people who haven't looked in a mirror before subjecting me to their 'style'. And do not even get me started on people who don't make any effort on a night out, as least put on a nice top if you insist on wearing jeans, jeez! I'm not asking everyone to stick on a low cut dress and a pair of stillettos, but well... actually I am!

5. Bikinis that you cannot swim in; this surely needs no explanation.

6. Leggings worn as trousers; I love leggings, I really do. But they should only be worn under dresses or tops that are long enough to cover your front bum.

Have you got any more for me? Or maybe I've struck a nerve with you?

Au revoir Paris!

I'm leaving my strangely tranquil student life in Paris behind now. I haven't enjoyed my time here as much as I thought I would but I will definitely miss certain aspects of this gorgeous city. Like the fashion (obviously), it seems a cliché, but everyone always looks so well put together here. It's perfectly normal to turn up to a lecture in heels and lippie, and there are a lot fewer Uggs stomping the pavements. [Ugg boots make everyone's ankles look fat, they're bad for your feet, breed bacteria, and they're just plain UGGly. Bin them.]

I will also miss the amazing food. I don't know how everybody is so skinny when all they seem to eat is bread, cheese and pastries and meals hardly ever come served with vegetables! I have been trying to convince the French girls I live with that English cuisine isn't THAT bad (we DO have fish and chips and pasties), but seriously, we need to up our game a bit.

But with the positives come the negatives. Firstly, students here are WEIRDLY serious. They are so guarded. It's frowned upon to try and make conversation in class, and God forbid you suggest going to get coffee together! It's so different from the hedonistic student life we live in the UK.

Secondly, there is very little for young people do in Paris. There are clubs of course, but you need to be either rich or stupid (or both) to afford them. Taxis are near-impossible to find, the night buses are terrifying and the metro closes too early. Bye bye social life!

Thirdly, the men are CREEPY. Personally, I don't think it unusual for a young woman to sit in a park or in a cafe alone, but French men seem to see this as a 'come and get me, boys' sign. No, I don't want to talk to you, no, I don't think you following me home is charming, no, you have no right to stare at my boobs on the tube. It's not flattering.

Right, rant over. Must get back to the packing and cleaning. Bye bye nuns!

Introduction, because it would be weird if we were strangers...

I started a blog about a year ago, with good intentions to make it a personal account of my year abroad in Germany and France, recounting my experiences and feelings, but mainly focussing on fashion. But I wanted to make it anonymous, just in case my friends thought it was embarrassing or I hurt anyone's feelings, and also because it makes you look well mysterious. And everyone knows mysterious equals sexy.

Well, mysterious just isn't me, in fact, I am completely the opposite. I love to gossip and let pretty much everybody know what I'm thinking and what happened the night before...

So, I'm just going to be myself. Laura, 20 years old, third year student of German with French in a tiny mid-Welsh town, Somerset born and bred. I love dressing up, I love every genre of music, I love drinking pints, I love cocktails, I love dancing, I love food and eating.

I'm chronically single, but I always seem to find these boys (yes, they're just boys...) to play these strange little 'non-committal but don't you dare look at anyone else and if I drunk text you at 3am you'd better reply' games with. Ultimately, it usually ends with me having a mini-breakdown and them settling down with a proper girlfriend.

Since last June, my life has been a whirlwind. I moved to Berlin for three months, where I worked for the shoe label Zeha Berlin as a PR and Marketing Praktikantin. This was a fantastic opportunity, but I was treated as a bit of a dogsbody by the bosses, but luckily the other girls that worked there were friendly and took me seriously. My time spent in Berlin reaffirmed my belief that it is the city for me. It's so vibrant and alternative, its shabbyness and the liberal attitudes of the people that live there just feel so right to me. I was so upset to leave my life there.

In September, I moved to Paris to spend a semester studying at la Sorbonne, possibly the only French university you'll have heard of. Well, it ain't all that. And Paris isn't all that either. OK, it's beautiful, but there is no subculture, nothing for young people to do, and the young people themselves are weirdly reserved to the point of unfriendliness. But at least they look good.

This Friday, I'm leaving France and my life with nuns near the Champs Elysées, for some much needed rest and relaxation back in Taunton. For a month and a half, I'll have time to get myself reacquainted with the British hight street (oh, how I've missed thee Primark!!), enjoy some clean air and prepare myself for my next voyage. I'm moving to Düsseldorf, exotic, I know.