Pinch punch!

Hello! Let’s have a catch up then shall we.


I’ve had a really busy month for heading out on nights out with friends. Most recently, I whizzed up to hometown Manchester for a night of over frantic dancing to Disclosure with the guys- Red Bull in one hand and rose wine in the other- how else?.


I got glammed up for the Hope Charity Gala at the gorgeous Cafe de Paris. Hope for Children turned 21 this year- a grand old age for a charity to make it to. It was a pretty emotional night, showcasing the incredible work they do, and being swiftly outbid on the silent auction. Do donate if you can.


Mary and I went to Boston 68 to get chatting to Denise about her incredible wine collection and to get photography tips from the cocktail bartenders, finishing up with late night sushi in Eat Tokyo, proving that a late night maki is ten times the man a late night Maccies will ever be.


I lucked out and scored a lunch at the Michelin starred Peruvian extravaganza that is LIMA. I’d been to baby sister LIMA Floral before for a brunch of dreams, so to go to the more grown up version was a proper treat. I tried a little of everything, and the ceviche blew my mind in ways I never knew raw fish could. Top marks.


Life-wise, things are going pretty smoothly. I’m well settled into my new flat, and my only complaint here is my bed is wedged between my neighbours staircase and bathroom so I’m treated to live updates of his every step and have invested shares in an earplug company. If I didn’t have something to whine about it wouldn’t be fun, anyways…


See you next month then!


I’m a feminist, and I think we need to get over the Protein World adverts.

*deep breaths* I’m Farrah, I’m a feminist, and I think we need to get over the Protein World adverts.

I’m a feminist. I strongly believe that women are not treated as individuals in a plethora of ways, from catcalling to cultural marginalisation and under-representation. I believe that objectification is a ‘gateway sexism’ to the dehumanisation of women, leading to cultural acceptance of the mistreatment, belittling and violence women face. The Protein World advert, imho, is dangerous as well as lame.

In the weeks following the unveiling of the unimaginative, over-trodden sexualised and controversial tube ads from the ‘marketing pioneers’ behind Protein World, everyone (it seems) has formed an opinion on the billboards that literally highlight the value of a woman through June to August as her tits, froo, and the skinny bits in between bright yellow.

Protein World advert

As you can probably guess, I’m not a fan.

I don’t like that it’s a weightloss pill. I think diet pills are icky and the advertising is manipulative and boring- and to be honest if it had been an advert for a bikini rather than literally a body type, I probably wouldn’t have even raised my bushy eyebrows. These ads validated people who think if someone is fat, they’re unhealthy. They made women whoa ren’t a size 8 with grade A+ boobs (i.e. nearly all of us) feel less wonderful that day. But we need to get over it.

Protein World advert

A policy I’m trying to live by is to choose joy. It means walking on the sunny side of the street, not throwing a hissy fit when someone at work has used the last teabag, and changing my mindset to be more positive. It’s working wonders for me, and I think it’s a way of life that people who live on the internet could benefit from.

The advertising world is full of creative media types that don’t try to benefit from negativity. I spotted this advert from Whole Foods on my way home the other day.

Body Positive advert

The drama caused by Protein World’s lame ass ad- which invoked no creativity or interesting brand identity other than ‘douchebags’- saw their profits soaring. Our anger is rewarding bad behaviour.

Instead, and maybe this is naive, but we should reward creativity, positivity and responsible brands with our praise.

Punishing brands doesn’t work if it just gives them free PR and a limo ride to roll up to the bank to. We can do better than that. We can demand for offensive crap to be taken down, but we can also prove to brands that we will respond to, and appreciate, messaging that isn’t designed to make s us feel like sweaty, ugly slobs.

Body Positive


By moving past the crap, rather than waving our virtual pitchforks at it, we can send a message to brands that pissing us off isn’t good enough. If we want to stop being made to feel like this, we have to make a decision to use our anger in a constructive way, and to diminsh the power these shitbags have over us. We need to show more love for the good stuff out there. We’ve got this, guys.


Last year’s resolutions- how did I do?

Last year, I wrote a pretty impassioned defence of New Year Resolutions. I was sick of people patronising resolutions, and in either a heartfealt attempt at self-improvement or a long moment of intense boredom, I wrote seven pages of resolutions.

So, money where my mouth is, let’s see how I did.

Resolution One: Career

“I want to be happy in a position that I can sustain myself in, with good prospects and opportunities. I want to learn more as a professional, and I want to be good at what I do”

Well, I’ve definitely made strides in this area. Even though when I wrote this, I didn’t forsee leaving GoodPeople, that’s precisely what I’ve done. I have a new job. I’m now working at a food and lifestyle marketing agency, Sauce, as an Account Exec. (Technically I’m a senior now, so let the LinkedIn congratulations messages roll on in.)

It was pretty tough leaving GoodPeople- I’d been there since I graduated, and the team there had become not only my only friends in London, but my sounding boards, the only people to find me as funny as I find myself, my shoulders to cry on and the people that paid for mdrinks. GoodPeople past and present all mean a lot to me, as was evident in the buckets (and buckets) of tears I cried at my leaving do. My new role is a lot more specific to marketing, and I’ve learnt so much already. As resolutions go, I think this one is a corking 8/10.


Resolution Two: Houselife

“Arrange standing orders, keep records of expenses, redecorate my room, make changes to communal areas, get rid of all the junk”

Okay- this one wasn’t as successful. I still haven’t sorted out my standing orders or kept records of it, but in my defence, I forgot I ever said I would do this. That basically doesn’t count.

I have started to make minor changes to the house set up- mostly in my room- and I’ve thrown tonnes of stuff out. To be honest, this is kind of a boring resolution, so even though I didn’t do most of it, I totally understand past-me’s bored attitude towards it, and am gonna give myself a 6/10 for trying.

IMG_20140304_093146 (Small)

Resolution Three: Food

“Prepare food in advance- you know you’re in late, stop buying crappy soup on the way home. Find time and money to go to the restaurants you’ve been pining after. More dinner parties!”

I have definitely upped my foodie game this year. I’ve been to loads of restaurants. I’ve stopped buying stuff to cook from frozen (except those vegetarian cheesey sausages from Sainsburys- love yourself and buy some), and I have been cooking stuff I’ve never tried before. I’ve not once had food poisoning this year, so 10/10 for that, but I have realised that I am not a finisher. Not in terms of eating food, you understand. In terms of serving it. I’ll be slaving over a hot oven for an entire day, and in the final ten minutes, totally freak out- like dishing up is causing me deep and extreme stress- and throw in raw fenugreek seeds to a perfectly good curry, or become so weepy trying to carve a roast chicken that an unimpressed flatmate will have to step in. I’m working on it.


Resolution Four: Do shit!

“Read more, write more, go to more shows and talks and museums and on walks. Get smart.”

I think I’ve done pretty well here. I’ve attended talks that left me buzzing with inspiration, I’ve been to plays that made me cry, shows that made me cry laughing, been interested and outraged and impressed by the massive world of ‘writer/bloggers’ I discovered, got muddy through long walks and started writing fiction again. I definitely want to read more novels, and getting back into writing a blog properly, sooo I’ll give myself a modest 7/10.


Resolution FiveGo places.

“Take trips, do new things there, travel with different people”

2014 was the best year of my life for travel. I was lucky enough to go to northern Italy, where I  pottered around Venice in a bottle green maxi skirt that matched the colour of the gondolas. I chaperoned my northern ladsladslads to Lanzarote, where I drank my way through the island’s rose wine reserves. I got to go to Croatia with Jaime, where we sunned ourselves like ladies of leisure and stuffed ourselves like pigs. I zipped over and under the north-south divide, and I also got to explore London, which is, dare I say it, slowly becoming a very important part of my soul. This year, my resolution is to take it outside of Europe.


Resolution Five: Be happy.

Be happy, be willing, be positive.

It is very difficult as a natural pessimist to be positive. This resolution was almost certainly influenced by my hippy-friends who do yoga and meditate and all that. For me, this has happened disguised as self acceptance. I’ve never been particularly stressed about who I am, but I think everyone takes a long time to get into their groove and stop pretending.

I’ve very much come to accept that I will always be the loudest laughing at my own jokes, my voice is a little bit too deep, and if you offer me a single Haribo or crisp, I will inhale the thing, causing me to splutter and tear up. I don’t like at least half of my clothes, but I have about thirty pajama outfits I’d rather be wearing anyways. I suck at the Kim Kardashian game but I’m gonna play it anyway. I might be a smart-ass, but at least I get myself into enough stupid situations that I’m humble about it. I literally give no shits that my music taste consists of not knowing the words to any song, excluding Taylor Swift’s entire back-catalogue. And instead of being “okay” with all of this, I’ve come to love it.



Have an amazing 2015 xx


The Lads’ Holiday: My Travelling Guilty Pleasure

I have plenty of what you would call ‘guilty pleasures’. I’m not even remotely shamed by them- bring me your worst 2003 pop, your Harry Potter fanfic, your early B-side Swiftie- and watch me embrace the pleasure with none of the guilt. I am all kinds of enthusiastic where embarrassingly enjoying myself is concerned.

Now, I am big on travelling. I am big on learning the cultural impact of the Venetian empire’s decline. I am big on finding the island’s freshest fish. I am very big on seeing what the locals see, eating what the locals eat, and going where the locals go. All very serious travel blogger lark. Quite.

(This is a very longwinded way of saying that I went on a #Lads’ Holiday, and it was my travelling guilty pleasure.)

We spent all day dozing on sunloungers listening to (who’da thunk it) Taylor Swift, then perked up in time to play vicious drinking games (with the guys helping me cheat so they didn’t have to carry me home later that night), then onto the Strip, where we went to the same club six nights in a row to listen to bad remixes of Calvin Harris songs and chug watered down cocktails. Rinse and repeat.


Of course, I exerted my Only-Woman-Here power to strongarm them into visiting tiny, silent villages to visit Cuban churches and hike up mini-mountains, but they were willing enough as long as we had a pint-break at some point. Fair’s fair.

We skinny dipped on the first night, giddy from sickly shots and our alcohol-induced increased body confidence. We befriended a guy who had a pet vulture. We requested Beyonce at every bar we were in, and obnoxiously sang football chants as we got lost on our way home.

The guys spent a good deal of time finding creative ways to injure themselves (black eye = playfight, sunburn = too drunk to put suncream on, sprained wrist = rugby tackle into the sea, bruised rib = pretty sure Danny just threw himself on the floor for this one), though nobody threw up which is pretty impressive.

All in all, it wasn’t a classy week. That does not mean, however, it wasn’t one the best experiences I’ve ever had. Maybe it’s all in my head, or maybe it’s the volume of travel blogs I read, but I’ve noticed a distancing between ”travelling” and “holidays”. You know, where one includes yoga  and underground bars , and the other includes copious amount of Pitbull (Mr Worldwide) and Full Englishes.

I’d like to submit the idea that travelling, whether to experience culture and to come back grounded, or to experience loud music and come back hungover, is wonderful in all forms. Our location might have been interchangeable with any old Costa Del Sol, but sometimes you need a week long, drunk reunion instead of breaking the spine of a LP guidebook.

And anyway, who would turn down a week with this boyband?