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I’m a fashion blogger now: my compulsion and first haul

Posted on by Farrah Kelly

I have an addiction. It’s a little pathetic, and I’ve got a feeling my friends are planning an intervention some time soon. *deep breath* I’m Farrah Kelly, and I read fashion blogs.

It might not seem that exciting- a twenty year old female blogger reads fashion blogs- but this is so out of character for me, that I can’t actually justify the obsession to myself. I don’t like fashion. I wear the same outfit three days in a row before I worry if anyone’s noticed. Half of my clothes are leached from my friends or mums wardrobe.I only go into Topshop when using it as a shortcut to the other side of town.
The beautiful blazer

If you think “addiction” or “obsession” is too much of an overstatement, then I can assure you I’m not exaggerating. I downloaded Instagram for the sole intention of following two of my favourite fashion bloggers. It’s basically an app that streams their lives to my phone. I watch all their livestream shows, I delve deep into their archives and check their #OOTD/#WIWT’s daily. It’s even beginning to match my Corrie compulsions.

The thrust of my new obsession reached new heights last weekend. I spent £200 on clothes. That’s the most I’ve ever spent on something that wasn’t a holiday, rent or my phone bill. I don’t know what came over me, or who I thought I was. I was in a fashion-blogger-frenzy, getting emotionally attached to jumpers within a heartbeat. I’m broke, but I didn’t give a second thought to my battered debit card.
I realised how ridiculous I was becoming when I was shopping with my sister last week. There I was, unassuming in River Island, and our eyes met across the room. It was the same blazer as LLYMLRS‘s. I had to have it. I practically sprinted to the last size six, and ran shouting “shut up and take my money” to the bored cashier, who wasn’t interested in my breathless recount of why this blazer was so fabulous.
Haul

I’m not really sure where to go from here. I’m still not interested in fashion, and my bank balance is back to feeling sorry for itself after a brief lull of happiness. I’ll probably just sit and think about how much money I spent, surrounded by all these clothes I didn’t need but really, really wanted.

Anyone who’s actually seen me get ready in the morning will be scoffing at the idea of me doing a fashion blog post. Anyone who reads this blog normally will be confused as to why I’m talking about clothes. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.

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Things I’m going to blow my loan on

Posted on by Farrah Kelly

My loan came in this morning. After all the fuss, stolen eggs and tears, it’s finally in. My fight with Student Finance England is over. I’ll stop whinging now.

This means one thing, and one thing only. I’m going shopping.

Obviously, being a sensible and conscientious student, I’ll contain myself and not blow the bank immediately. Having lived off ALDI’s 69p veg for the past two weeks, I never want to find myself in a situation where the only way I can afford a cup of coffee is if I beg in the street for a bit.

So what will I buy first?

The plan.
Obviously, I’m going to get drunk first.Anyone who wants to see me celebrating the fact that I have real life expendable income, that isn’t being instantly swallowed up by my overdraft, then I’ll be the one at the bar ordering two for one cocktails at Dusk on Thursday. The Milky Bar Kids are on me.
Then, being a sensible third year, I’ll recover from my hangover by doing a food shop. The first thing on my list is a crap load of coffee, because I ran out and I can’t keep depending on Emma Bennett to supply me with it (#bestfriendever). I’ll get some stationary to do some degree work with. And I’ll buy some vegetables, some pasta, enough biscuits to see me through the dark days of essay-composing, and a huge bulk-order of flapjack ingredients. 
Then, as it’s cold, I’m going shopping shopping. For clothes. Like I’m LLYMLRS or something. 

Winterwarm by farrah-kelly featuring bright blue skinny jeans

Look! I’m a fashion blogger now! Does this count? Strictly speaking, I can’t actually afford all of those things. Even with the loan in. But, what is wonderful, is I can afford to get at least some of it. I need a new pair of jeans since I tore my faithful skinnys whilst giving the shower a good scrub, so that’s pretty high on the list of priorities. The rest is slightly ambitious, but a girl can dream.
After I’ve finished recovering from my mega hangover, packed away all of my new groceries, and slid into my new pair of jeans, I’m going to book a trip. There’s definitely a visit home on the cards, but I’m branching out past Huddersfield.
I want to review somewhere new. I’ve not had the time or money to go somewhere and explore lately, but I’ve been getting itchy feet. I’m thinking the Lake District, because it’s as close as I’ll get to the New Zealand landscape I’ve become obsessed with following my mega-LOTR-athon. Any suggestions to a cheap and lolz-ridden trip away, maybe for a weekend, would be much appreciated.
In the meantime, while I order food and splash out on an electric blanket, I’m going to be constantly humming a mix between Etta James’ At Last and Nappy Roots’ Good Day.
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Losing my LOTR virginity

Posted on by Farrah Kelly

I was attacked by an orc once. I know that sounds like I’m trying to tell a bad joke, but I’m serious. It’s one of my favourite anecdotes to prove how reliably ridiculous my life can be.

My friend Cat took me a few years ago to London to see Lord of the Rings: The Musical, and the audience-interaction levels were a little too high for my consciousness to manage. Having attempted to nip to the loo in the middle of a battle scene, the (really bloody terrifying) orc-actors had spread out into the audience in order to intimate us all. Wonderful theatre, but not too great for my psychological welfare.

In the strangest stand-off I’ve ever been in, me and Cat tried to outwit the orc in front of the entire upper circle. He took a single step towards us, and we quickly shit ourselves and scurried back to our seats with tails between our legs. Obviously, not feeling embarrassed enough, I decided to pass out. It’s a trick I do when I don’t feel like there’s enough dramatic tension in a moment.

Needless to say, this traumatic LOTR experience was always enough for me. However, upon finding out I’d never seen the films, or read the book, my boyfriend decided I needed “nerding up”, good and proper. So the next few weeks of my life became almost completely about Lord of the Rings. Romance isn’t dead.

We rented each film, extended edition, and watched the lot. Three bags of peanut M&M’s, half a cheesecake, seventy different pause-to-explain-what-just-happened-s, about nine brews and two library rental fines later- it’s over. I’ve seen all of the Lord of the Rings there is to see. And it’s pretty cool. I know I’m a bit late to the party to start reviewing them, so I’ll skip that and get straight to the important shit.

1. How much of a dick is Frodo?! Like, I know you’re having a tough time carrying that cursed demon ring, but can you cut it out with the elongated pauses and middle-distance stares? And getting onto that boat at the end was not cool. Honestly. You destroy one evil warlord-eye, and all of a sudden it’s okay to totally bail on your mates and get on the boat full of cool grown ups. You’re being a sulky, marde-arse weirdo.

2. Legolas is the coolest guy ever. Just casually killing orcs and sliding down stairs on a shield and riding an elephant while simultaneously killing it and just fuck yeah Legolas. He’s also Orlando Bloom. He wins at everything.

3. Kings are douches. If I was a king, I would not ignore Gandalf. I also wouldn’t try to drown people I didn’t like in a landslide of skulls. Nor would I burn my own son alive. Nor would I be a marde arse about my daughter not wanting to live forever on my weird-ass eternity boat.

4. I want everyone to talk like they talk in LOTR. Next time I get on the bus, I’m going to bark at the driver- “Bus-driver, show us the meaning of haste!”.

5. I kinda love Gollum. He’s misunderstood. Why does everyone beat him up?! The only time I dislike Samwise is when he’s being a bully to Gollum. I understand that yes, he does try to murder quite a few people, and that creepy phlegmy voice he does is kinda disconcerting, but that’s because he’s cursed. He clearly has a serious mental health issue, and Gandalf is right to stick up for him. He’s also undeniably adorable at points. I think I’d quite like a Gollum. You know, as a pet.

After watching all twelve glorious hours, I’m kinda really into it. I’ve been watching YouTube clips, and I’m taking out the documentary on the making of Gollum as soon as I get chance. I think I’ve sufficiently been “nerded up”, but Jonathan doesn’t particularly agree. We’ve got to watch Star Wars next. Fabulous.