GAAAAAH...!!!

For me, these woven Prada shoes from 2011 are absolute perfection. They're fun, don't seem to be all that excruciating, plus they have this nostalgic air to them, despite the colours making them look like they're tripping on acid, which for me is just the right combination. But then I remember I had them on my feet once and didn't buy them -  that's when I suddenly start feeling an urge to kick myself in the teeth.

Twenty-thirteen

It all started with a fringe. I wanted to look like this young lady I saw on a magazine. Who cares if she's blonde and I'm a brunette, right? And what if her face has got NOTHING to do with mine??

 Please, let's not get lost in the details, I thought... no wonder I ended up looking like this. But who cares, it's only hair, no lives were lost among this tragedy. I just ended up looking like some 80's rock star (to those of you who are unfamiliar with such a reference, it is not a particularly good thing to compare yourself with... it means you kinda look like a stray dog).

Getting my hair cut was a conceptual affair anyway, so it wasn't such a big deal that it didn't exactly make me look my best. It was meant to signify I had closed a chapter and was ready for a new one. Ya know, it's the kind of thing chicks do. Whatever!

Anyway, speaking of new chapters, at the beginning of the year I planned a major career change. Now this really was MAYJAH, at least in my book. So mayjah I even decided to get a tattoo about it. I was struck by lightning when I came across this Roy Lichtenstein piece: 

 It later resulted on this.

I love it to bits. It's a bit of an art gang in-joke, sure, but it's also my way of saying fairwell to the artworld after investing so much of my time and energy in one of my biggest passions in life. 

I attended political demonstrations with my friends; we made our own signs. This one says 'let go of my bloody paycheck'.

Found out my nr.1 childhood crush (the kid who appeared on the Kinder chocolate bar boxes) grew up to look like this. Let's have a minute of silence, please.

Exchanged hilarious, almost meaningless texts with my friend on a specially boozy night out. 

Jogged by the river Tagus.

Had drinks outside on warm nights.

Made people  think I got dressed in the dark.

Read excellent books on my balcony.

Drank vino all by myself.

...

Went to Venice.

To work on this beauty right here: 

...but ended up falling in love with the most beautiful boy in the world, in between a glass or seven of Limoncello.

Got some cool shoes to celebrate the occasion.

 Soon after I turned 28! Imagine that! Celebrated that epically surrounded by friends, and woke up the next day with the world's most horribly crippling hangover. Then about a month later I went on a cruise with my girlfriends. We went to a bunch of cool places, like Pompeii.

By the way, these Valentino babies joined the collection. HELLS TO-THE-YEAH.

Anyway, I changed jobs in the meantime. Bye bye artworld! We had jolly good times!

I lost my grandad. 

:(

 And then off I went to Marseille. I lived in a tiny studio apartment for a month while interning at this great fashion label. Realized I sort of can parler français, to my big surprise. Such a good experience. 

Visited Provence in the meantime, too. This is Roussillon. 

Sneaked off to Paree for the weekend too! 

When I got back I became a "mum" to this little dude here! Say hi to Simone de Beauvoir, y'alls.

Then Simone and I got ourselves a new home.

And a new job too. Well only me, really. She doesn't do s***, obvs.

:) 

Bring it on, 2014. I'm ready! 

I think.