AND IT'S 1975

Adidas running shorts and mesh have simultaneously wormed their way into my wardrobe, and somehow I have become quite taken by the idea of wearing both together. This is me working the look- definately reminicent of the 70s and a bloke called Mitch who probably beats his baby mamma and drinks Stella (sadly, in this photo I to am actually drinking said Stella).

This combo is so trashy it works- comfortable, lightweight and waster chic, perfect for summer. Thinking about it, the mesh and shorts are a match made in heaven- the mesh is pretty prostitute in style, while the shorts suggest athleticism and masculinity. Worn with my trusty cheap gold jewelery, this is a look no one dares criticise, for fear of getting punched in the jaw.

ROCKETS AND 99 FLAKES

So far this June has been a predominantly 17 degrees month, with a few real scorchers spread sporadically through to keep our faith in a decent British summer alive. But rain or shine, it's summer, and therefore I will be ritualistically queuing at the ice cream van, be it in my coat or shorts, to celebrate the one totem of summer that this damned weather cannot spoil- frozen, sugary goodness.

I may not get a tan but my teeth are sure to rot.

POSTING TO PENITENTARIES

So I wrote to George Jung, one of the big American drug lords of the 70s. Basically, there wasn't much thought behind the idea- I pretty much watched the Johnny Depp biopic of his life, "Blow", a few times, and decided to write, using the address on his fan Myspace (apparently maximum security, life sentenced guys have access to Myspace- who knew?).

I sent photo's of Los Angeles (a place he apparently treasured) and wrote, "everyone deserves a beautiful view", something that I still hold to be true. However since posting this touching letter to the now 70-ish year old criminal, I have been made aware of a few things.

1) The Johnny Depp version of his life was definately rose tinted- in reality, he is probably an asshole of a man, deserving every day of his life long sentence.

2) He is not Johnny Depp. Subconsciously, I think I may have written the letter thinking I was writing to Mr Depp. A stunning, rich, Hollywood actor. To be honest I probably could have over looked his hardened crim status if he was, in fact Mr Depp, or if he looked anything like him, as men like that need to be on the street, to be lusted after.

3) If he writes back I have no idea what to do- starting a pen friend situation with a lifer isn't exactly ideal. I wasn't exactly looking for conversation.

- MORAL- don't write to crims unless it's your mum/ dad/ brother/ grand parent or your just in need of some lovin' from behind bars.

SUNBURN AT THE PIER

Summer means only one thing- Rocket lollies and greasy chips on the pier. Be it in Brighton or Santa Monica, the pier is where it's at. Here is why I love the afformentioned two in particular:

BRIGHTON

It's British
pretty drab

kagools 

Obviously the games are a bit shit 
chips and rock

SANTA MONICA

hotter and sunnier than it's British rival. 

people watching
Fishermen
guidos
preteen whores
generic crazies

tacos and churros.
Bubba Gump Shrimp, Burger King and a few Chineses with live (half-live to be fair) lobsters t

ROADRUNNERS

 I like the west coast.

METROPOLITAN DREAMS

I am moving soon, abandoning the country life for one in a concrete wasteland. But you see I'm a city girl at heart... Something about the people, the noise the pure filth. I'm a real sucker for filth. I love how I can be alone in a city crammed with people, mostly strangers. It fills me with a quiet comfort, unlike the eiry isolation in the countryside. Here, when I am alone, I feel truely abandoned.

I'm going to be a homemaker of my own, more havoc making than bread baking but still.

GIMME SOME GREASE

The greasy spoon is a hot prospect, after a heavy night of being a bit naughty, now with a pounding head and not much else. Personally, I leave the tatters of my dignity to wallow on the floor, and head down to the cafe that serves fat like it's a nutritional requirement. No need to even bother getting dressed- wear whatever you can find, even the dirty dress from the night before is cool.

The chips come with everything, as does the fried bread. Have a burger and an omlette. Go on, at this point, nothing can save your pride