A Christmas Jumper that Yule love

It’s snow lie that this year has flown by, I can’t quite believe that in a few short weeks we will be tucking into a plate of the finest Turkey with all the trimmings, minus the Brussel Sprouts, hopefully.

Like most people I struggle to come up with creative ideas at Christmas, but for the past few years I have created my very own Christmas jumpers. One of my favourites is a somewhat beautiful Christmas tree design. Whenever I’ve worn this jumper people always comment. Whether they are genuinely complimenting my Christmas costume or openly taking the piss, I don’t care. It got them talking and I know I look good wearing it. These jumpers are great if you like to adorn yourself in tat, or alternatively, they make a wonderful gift for a loved-one (or not so-loved, depending on how superior your sewing abilities are). They are surprisingly easy to make, and most importantly are easy on the purse. We all know that things always seem to be a little ‘Deer over the festive season, so it makes perfect Frankin’sense to get creative and make one of your own! (Sorry, I will stop with the terrible puns soon, promise).

What you will need:

• An old sweatshirt, or buy a cheap one. I’m using a childs school jumper. No, not their current school jumper, even if it is for a good Clause.
• 1/2 Metre of green felt (avoid the felt squares if possible, they are not quite big enough!)
• Beaded string (1/2 a metre should be plenty)
• Any other tacky attachables - Glittery pom poms look amazing and are easy to attach. Don’t forget a star for the top of the tree too!
• Mince pies and mulled wine, these are very important materials.

Step 1: On a piece of card, ideally an old Christmas card to tie in with the festive theme, draw out half a Christmas tree, fold and cut so you have the perfect symmetrical tree. Position on the felt, draw around and cut out.

Step 2: Relocate to the kitchen, crack open the mulled wine and gently begin to heat.

Step 3: Arrange your decorations onto your felt tree and pin into place. The wine should be almost ready now, so grab a mince pie and pour yourself a glass. Double up some green thread and get stitching! The Pom Poms will be secure with approximately 5 stitches and the beaded string usually needs about two. (Hold off on the star, like a real tree, this will be the last step.)

Step 4: When all tat is securely sewn, lay your newly embellished tree onto your sweatshirt and loosely pin down.

Step 5: Turn up your Cliff Richard Christmas hits and sew the tree onto your jumper. If you have a sewing machine, use it. If not, then give it your best hand stitching a go. - It doesn’t have to be perfect, believe me, the stitching is the last thing people will look at. 

Step 6: Sit back, breathe and maybe have another mince pie. This sewing is a fiddly business, especially after 3 glasses of mulled wine.

Step 7: Grab the star, pin into position at the top of the tree and sew.

...Congratulations, you should now hopefully have finished the first piece in your very own Festive Fashion line. If you’re lucky enough to have anymore wine left in the pan, treat yourself to a celebratory glass and admire your efforts!  

I guess that just about wraps things up for now.

Natalie x

Fabric Land, my favourite shop hidden away in Kingston. I'm pretty certain a Drag Queen once went in and threw up everywhere, making it the perfect treasure trove for choosing your favorite Christmas Jumper accessories!

Unhappy Birthday

So we have made it to November. Guy Fawkes be burnin', winter coats hang on the closest peg to the door, Christmas lights flicker on the high street and it’s the month of ...my birthday. My *cough cough* 24th birthday. How did I get so old, so soon?

When I was younger, (ahh those were the days!) I had this big life plan. I dreamt that by the time I reached 24, I would be living in some swanky pad in Richmond, married to the most gorgeous specimen of a man and have at least one sprog, and ideally up the duff with another. Disappointedly, I am none of the above. My life at the moment reads a lot different to how I had hoped it would currently be. I am still living at home, with my mother (in Stoneleigh, not Richmond), I am very much single, and unfortunately diamonds have not even come close to reaching my marital finger. Finally, I am most definitely, 100% not pregnant. – Well, at least I hope I'm not!? That would be a cruel joke, Angel Gabriel.

I think I have reached that dreaded stage in life where I no longer look forward to my birthday. I did not want this time to come, but its too late, the days are whizzing by and my Freedom Pass is another sleep closer. I simply do not want to turn 24! Okay, maybe there are some benefits to growing older. Sure, my car insurance with go down as I go up in age, in a hostage situation, it would be likely that I would be released first, and great, I can legally drive in Europe now. But even taking all benefits into consideration, 24 is still 6 years to 30, almost a quarter of a century gone, and (oh no) nearly half way to 50!

Yep, I have sadly turned into one of those people who no longer get excited about their birthdays. My wish list clearly demonstrates my lack of enthusiasm. This year I am asking for: (don't worry, you'll only need a postage stamp to scribble this lot down, Mum) new bathroom towels and bumper packs of tights and socks. How boring, maybe I am boring? Maybe this is why I am still childless, single and the only daughter left living at home with my mother.

As of yet, no plans have been confirmed for the dreaded day. I’m sure it will involve some sort of wild night, unintentionally playing half-woman, half-vodka, wearing my bank card out until it’s paper thin and attempting to prevent toppling over in my heels.

In an ideal world, I’d quite happily celebrate by sitting in with a pack of Opal Fruits, a nice mug of mint tea and moan about the rising price of petrol.

Maybe next year...

Natalie x

A Bon Nuit

Last Sunday, Hammersmith Apollo (or the HMV Apollo which I believe is it's latest, official name) played host to American Indie-Folk Band, Bon Iver. Heard of them? No?... Well you should have! Okay, brief summary: Fronted by singer/songwriter Justin Vernon, Bon Iver have been on the musical scene for 4 years. In that time, they have built up a worldwide fan base. The first album 'For Emma, Forever ago' penned by Justin, was written whilst he hibernated for 3 months in his fathers log cabin in Wisconsin. Some of the tracks suggest his time spent there was to mend a broken heart, others speculate that it because he had been through some tough years, including the split of his previous band (and possible girlfriend?), which resulted in his world crashing down. Whatever the story, the three months were well spent. His life spun into song made the guy an incredible first album and I'm sure, an awful lot of money. 

Anyway, we're back in Hammersmith and word had begun to spread that tickets were being snapped up outside for £200. I was one of the lucky ones who parted with my £23.50 when the tickets first went on sale a few months ago. I also over heard whispers that this could potentially be one of the best live shows of 2011. Bon Iver better not let me down. Don't get me wrong, I was excited and had high expectations, but also could have really done with the £200 and an early night. 

The performance opened with 'Perth' which just so happens to be one of my favourite tracks from the latest, self-titled album. It was a good start. I couldn't help but feel a little shocked when I counted the 8 musicians alongside Justin. For a guy that could carry a crowd on his delicate voice alone, surely didn't require a mini orchestra, especially one including two thunderously large drum kits and what can only be described as the worlds biggest saxophone!
After a few spine tingling tracks filled the air, the band stood to one side and allowed Justin to perform a track off the iconic first album. At this point, the room fell deathly silent. The only other sound that could be heard was a light tapping on my shoulder. My friend decided to remind me that it was my round at the bar.
During that performance, my eyes scanned the room. No, not in search of my friend bringing me my cider. But to do the mandatory people watch. It was clear to see that the majority of Bon Iver's followers were either couples that lovingly hung off each others necks, or were male, mid-twenties sporting a perfectly planned 7-day stubble. Sadly, I didn't fall into either of these cult categories. 

The musicians continued to capture the crowd, taking them on a magical, musical journey and if I closed my eyes, ignored the thick, sticky, musk of body odor that hung in the air, I could have almost been transported to his fathers log cabin. When he begun to serenade the virtually still crowd with one of my favourite tracks 'Wash', I couldn't help but whip out my camera phone to capture the moment on film. I've since posted this video online and I have become somewhat of a YouTube sensation. Last time I checked I had 90+ views within 48 hours of posting the clip!

Bon Iver of course had to perform their biggest, most popular hit 'Skinny Love'. A beautiful song which has been covered by many artists much to my disapproval. (I'm not a fan of artists covering already fantastic songs, I think its a cheap shot to ride on anothers success). Anyway, this was the penultimate track in the 1hr 45min set, and when the first strum of his guitar sounded, the room suddenly lit up. No, not with lighters waving in the air or some fancy stage neons. The venue simply lit up with...camera phones. As much as I too wanted to capture this beauty of a song on my phone, I was certain that one of the crowd would inevitably post the clip online for me to steal.

It's fair to say that Bon Iver have developed into a bigger, better ensemble, full of percussion and life with the ability to hold such an on stage presence it was virtually impossible to focus on anything else. - Other than the surprisingly attractive beaded men of course.

I left Hammersmith feeling musically fulfilled, fuzzy headed, happy and trembling, slightly. It was a cocktail of powerful music, a few too many ciders and lack of winter jacket.

Natalie x

Unfortunately I left my camera at home, so you will have to make do with the grainy pictures off my phone.

Hot-tober

I couldn’t quite believe my eyes a couple of weeks ago when I did the routine weather check on my phone. The week read; blistering hot sunshine with temperatures peaking at 30 degrees. What! EXCUSE ME?! 30 degrees! - But that's hotter than the Bahamas (as the radio later tells me). As I rubbed my eyes in disbelief and double checked my phone again, the orange sunshine icon beaming back at me never looked so bright, and I am sure if I tilted my head to the left and squinted ever so slightly, the symbol was smiling back at me. No, of course that bit was a lie, but it might as well have been true! It was going to be a good week.
But wait. This is October isn't it? We should be experiencing grey skies, rain and cold mornings with the occasional whisper of frost. I am so confused, too confused to care, all I could think about was rapidly topping up what was left of my almost invisible Spanish tan. So I slipped on my favourite summer dress, rested my shades on my nose and stepped into my flip flops. These summer clothes were not ready for the storage box just yet.
Agghh wait. BIG problem. I haven't shaved my legs! Okay, I'll substitute the dress for leggings and a floral top, just for the day. I will dig the razors out later.

So other than trotting around in wedges (just because I could) and eating my lunch in the garden at work, I probably wasn't taking advantage of the glorious weather as much as I thought I should. When it was over, I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed, I should have done something. So when I heard that we were in for some more sun after the brief spell that kissed early October, I knew I had to partake in something outdoorsy and quintessentially British - that didn’t involve me sitting in the garden downing jugs of Pimms! The Friday night before the second blast of sunshine was due, my friend requested my company whilst walking her puppy in the morning. Sure, good idea! I don't ever recall walking a dog before, this was new, exciting and most importantly, outdoors. Now providing I didn't have to pick up any doggy droppings (I had just painted my nails) I knew I was in for a pleasant morning. So I headed out on my first dog walk. It was so nice, the fresh air, the green grass, the bluest sky. Part of me wished I had a dog so I could do this more often, hang on, we're only in for two days of sunshine. I don't fancy walking in the cold weather regardless of how cute or possibly overweight my dream dog would be. Plus picking up shit would be mandatory if the dog was my own. Scrap that. Looks like this dog walk is a one off!

 

Whilst walking the dog, which clearly wasn’t enjoying the walk as much as us. - Have you ever known a dog who likes to be carried on a walk? Is this normal? Anyway...my friend and I decided that we should dust off our bicycles and head somewhere in the afternoon for a mini adventure. We quickly deposited the lazy dog back home and enthusiastically set out on what would turn out to be one of my favourite days of the whole summer...in October!?

So we cycled and cycled until our legs couldn't spin any more. We went from Ewell to Surbiton, Surbiton to Thames Ditton, through Thames Ditton to Hampton Court, a quick photo op on the bridge then it was back on the bikes. Hampton Court to Kingston, ouch! legs.were.beginning.to.hurt. Let's stop. Okay, Kingston to Harts Boatyard for a glass of some well earned sunshine cider. Two pints later, although 3 would have been ideal but we are classy girls and to be honest, didn't know the drink driving rules when it came to push bikes. So we slowly cycled back, I think we did around 15 miles! Wow. Go team sunshine!
During our bike trip, we saw some really beautiful scenes. Families enjoying trips on boats, the sun glistening on the Thames, old ladies chowing down 99's, those welcoming smiles from strangers that only sunshine can bring out. It was such a GOOD day.
But as I type this, the weather seems to be retuning back to the seasonal norm. I even slept with the heating on last night. 
All because of my day, I can honestly say the weather was so good while it lasted, and I feel that I certainly made up for the lack of activity earlier in the month.
I can't wait to see what surprises November brings!

Natalie x

P.S. there are two things that I have learnt from my day in the October sun:
1. Walking a dog makes you loads of friends.
2. Riding a bike for 4 hours seriously hurts your arse.
 

 Hampton Court!

Hanging out - (terrible caption effort, I know)

Celebratory Ciders and snacks

Watching the sun go down on Kingston River

Home again, jiggity jig.

Welcome Home

Last weekend, I got something back that had been missing in my life for a while. No, not my Topshop store card or my small appetite (both I've accepted have dissappeared forever). I had something return that money can't buy, something that smells sweeter than Grandmas kitchen, something that I treasure more than my Jaeger coat. Well, almost.

My little sister.

Okay, at 20 years old she is not so little, but her waist is considerably smaller than mine and I can just about peer over her head when she stands near me. She returned from a 3 month internship across the pond. It was a fantastic opportunity for her, and she took full advantage of it. I was of course beyond excited about my playmate heading home, but part of me felt sad. She had a taste of 'the good life' and I'm pretty sure that my TV broadcasting re-runs of Come Dine with Me could never match the bright lights of New York City.

Since her return, her diary has been packed out with work, socialising and of course, sleeping. In fact, I probably spoke to her more whilst she was away than now she's back in the motherland.

Regardless of her not being within arms reach of me everyday, I still sleep better at night knowing she is back on British soil. Primarily because my slumber will no longer be interrupted by a 3am Skype call.  

I am one of three sisters, the middle one to be precise, and yes, it is true what they say about middle child syndrome, which according to the Urban Dictionary (an invaluable source) is described as ‘an emotional scarring condition’. I wholeheartedly agree. My eldest sister, quite easily the most hardworking woman I have ever known, no longer lives under the same roof as myself and the small waisted one, but we try to meet up as often as possible. Collectively, the three of us go together better than a bacon, lettuce and tomato bap. 

I have decided that there is no better companion (not even a Labrador) that is better than a sister, and I am lucky to have two of the best!

...Wow, on a cheese scale, that was definitely a Parmesan. I better stop grating.

Natalie x

The deliciously nutty, white chocolate brownies I baked to thank my sister for coming back to me.