The weekend of the snood.

The title kind of sounds like children's book doesn't it? In my head, I am envisioning a small girl having a secret pet, almost like a dog mixed with a puddle of milk(The snood). I'm going to copyright that.
It has come to my attention that I have nothing interesting to talk you about. Other than the silly spending spree I had in Topshop, the night of unwanted molestation I had yesterday in a local club and helping my best friends boyfriend purchase a 'snood' for the best friend in question; I have done nothing of merit to speak to you about.
How sad is it that the highlight of my day was helping pick out a strangely named knitwear product?
Nonetheless, I am here to ramble to you all regardless(taking it into account that people read this-*cue nervous twitch*).
The recent suicide of Alexander Mcqueen hit me hard, as i'm sure it did many of you, for three main reasons:
1. I do not, nor have I ever had, the bank account to fund the purchase of any of his clothing items(obviously I can therefore not mourn properly).
2. If I ever want to purchase any of said clothing items, the price will be 10times inflated(A tragic state of events indeed).
3. Britain have lost one of it's fashion institutions.
On hearing this news, I spent the evening wrapped in a blanket of solitude, eating rice crispie squares(those of you in Britain, nip to your local sainsburys store and purchase some. It will be worth it.) and trying to gain my fashion hit by watching repeats of Gossip Girl and Material Girl. Yes, I hear what you are thinking, sad? I know but it needed to be done to fully move on with my grief.

Therefore my picture of the day comes is a tribute to the great work of a fantastic designer:
:
The most fabulous headpiece I have ever seen.

Yours sincerely,
The secret goldfish.

Lack-lustre week.

The years first bout of illness has now set in. I knew it would be inevitable but I just was not prepared for my first viral attack on my throat and immune system. Oh dear me, how I long to be able to eat without it hurting.

My life has become a rigorous schedual of falling in and out of conciousness, endless repeats of Gossip Girl playing on my computer and plenty of fluids, not even the fun kind (I'm sorry but I did just had to lower the tone). There are times when all you want is a cuddle. Unfortunately, I can't get one from the person I want one from (the swine). I have to live with that though ladies and gentleman.

I'm now going to go and compulsively buy shoes, tights, leggings and any other fabric based, clothing style objects I can with my limited budget. Who needs money anyway?

Photo of the day:
Purely because glancing back through an old photo album I found this gem.
I miss my pink hair.
Yours sincerely,
The secret goldfish.