Marlboro On: I have problems too... I just think I handle mine better than you do

[Two days later *ahem*]

This is what a homeless lady said to me at 5.45pm the Sunday before last while I was sat on the platform waiting for my tube home.

I had been out all night

I was doing the walk of shame...

and I was ashamed.

The previous day we, (myself Blondie et al) had taken ourselves to the lovebox festival.

As festivals go in the UK, the overall atmosphere at Lovebox was tame - not a puking reveller in sight...

However as days out with me go, it was pretty wild.

It was destined to be:

I was wearing my super-tight, super-hot, super-shiny-slut dress (for the sexual), my GAP biker boots (for staying power) my biker jacket (which I'm getting a little tired of, but wore it y'kno for warmth) and the D&G aviators (for the yes-I-am-someone-as I-am-wearing-designer-sunglasses factor).

I was dressed to kill... and when I am there is only one victim in sight...

Myself.

Florence + the machine merged into vodka merged into Horse meat Disco merged into Friendly Fires merged into more vodka merged into Duran Duran, merged into a 6foot4 rugby player, merged into his apartment, merged into... well being a Shiny Slut until approximately 4pm the next day.

Then I had to make my way home with ripped tights, curiously rigid upright hair, an unshowered body & unwashed face, panda eyes and alcohol breath. I'd spent all my money on, well booze, and so I had to take public transport rather than the desired face-saving taxi ride. ...

Where the soundtrack to the previous day had been Charmer [Kings of Leon] - damn that song for making me feel so sexual - the homeward journey's accompanying soundtrack was Everyboy Hurts (R.E.M.)... On repeat.

Again, this story lends itself to the shiny slut category (thanks for pointing that out you know who you are).

I know. I should get a new tac, but the shiny in me does not seem to want to die.

I was obviously in no fit state to take pictures of the day myself - but thankfully Elle.com was on top form...


Source: elle.co.uk


MM x

Marlboro On: Girl Crush

I don't think I'll ever get over the hotness of this girl, (Freja Beha) everytime I see her I consider life as a lesbian...

Pure. Gorgeousness. Absolute.

OK, the pretty picture is pretty lame as posts go, but I will update soon... ok like, this evening... like really really.

MM x x x x x


Perhaps the attraction is that my grown out pageboy haircut is starting to resemble her tussled bob... Ultimately I am the first choice of women I would date - yes I said it.

Marlboro On: DIY Mutherfudgers

...as seen on:

1.

2.

3.

4.

Because not all of us have an extra £1000 for a pair of Chloé scallop edged shorts.

That is all

MM x

Marlboro On: He's just not that into you... no#2

Case. In. Point.

Last friday I went out to join some girlies for cocktails in Soho at a 'friend 0f a friends' bar, these are ladies I had not seen in while and so what we needed was some time together to chat - be merry, you'kno catch up between ourselves.

The entire time we were there there was this odd guy, who introduced himself as 'the photography producer who works upstairs - above the bar' (don't you love when you gets a person's name, occupation and shoe size when they introduce them selves. Hey Mr. wondering who gives a sh*t? Yep, well not me), was just hanging around.

There is always a guy that does this when you want a 'girl's' night, the guy that hangs around like a bad smell contributing nothing - not even hotness - however is under the delusion that he is part of the conversation, and everybody is really is interested in his [non]contribution. That night it was THIS guy...

...and he was bald.

I am (as you all already know) quite brash at the best of times and normally I would have told him to where to 'get bent' in my charming cockney accent. However as he was friends with the bar owner who was so graciously plowing us with free drink, I just had to let him stand there and actually be polite to him - asking him questions about his 'life' (although I did sing I don't care, I don't care with my inside voice everytime he responded...).

Anyway.

After us shuffling... and him following, us shuffling again and him following again... the ladies decided that the situation was so exhausting that it called for a fag break, and as we proceeded towards the door - it happened:

Bald starey guy: So I was thinking you know, that we could go for coffee during the week...

Marlboro: *Awkward silence* erm..

Bald starey guy: No no, just you know to chat - if you give me you number I can give you a call right back so then you will have mine...

Marlboro: *Awkward silence + crickets* It's just you know, erm...

Bald starey guy: *stares intensely*

Marlboro: Fine, sure... *inside voice* Anything to stop you looking at me like that...

Its proven, if they are into you they will ask you out AND get that number out of you whether you like them too or not...

AND THEY WILL CALL, REPEATEDLY LEAVE WEIRD MESSAGES ASKING YOU TO CALL THEM BACK IN THEIR WEIRD BALD VOICE, AND THEY WILL DO THIS ON AVERAGE 2CE A DAY UNTIL YOU DO... OR KILL YOURSELF.

Hmmm

This should have been music man as I was working the magic on him; Music Man is now back on the shelf...

... and I am changing my number.

That is all

MM x

Marlboro On: He's just not that into you...

So Music Man has been in the office for two weeks now and I have been making every effort to get him to ASK ME OUT...

The hem-lines on my bodycons (which I do wear to work, yes) have been getting shorter, the hair bigger and the outfits a whole lot shinier...

Still. Nothing.

I have been soo taken aback at how difficult it has been I decided to take it up with Princess on a night out to Plastic People (so yes we were a little drunk).

Marlboro: Why doesn't he love me? Like really why doesn't he just fall down at my feet and like ASK ME OUT ALREADY, there really is only so much a girl can DOOOO... maybe he thinks I'm ugly?

Princess: Seriously dude, don't be silly in this equasion you are like a ten, he is barely pushing a five.' [This is why I love my best friend], perhaps you should just like talk to him???

Marlboro: Don't be ridiculous, since when do men that I like go for 'personality'...

Princess: So true dude... hmmm, I need another beer. First I'm going to the bathroom to gaze at myself - I'm having a problem finding the hotness in this place and that sweaty guy with the highlights keeps looking over - I give it 5 mins before he gets brave and tries to talk to one of us and it ain't gonna be me SUCKER *runs off in direction of toilet* [and this is why sometimes I feel like I need to trade her in for a new model]!!!

Convinced that my tactics would eventually get me into some Music Pants I continued with my look 'hot' and completely dis-interested in the hopes that musters up the courage to ask me out...

The yesterday on a flight to Luxembourg (business trip, 5* & business-class all the way... except on Luxair, this means 5" extra leg room and not much else - blah) I found out something that made my head explode...

He's just not that into me - you know that crappy film, well yeah it was book first and OHMIGOD it totally, like I just said, MADE MY HEAD EXPLODE...

This is not a book that should be read when:

1. You have been working extra hard for two weeks to make your crush SEE you while working a stressful job 9am-7pm most days

2. You are alone on a tini-tiny plane with no Valium to one of the strangest (sorry Luxembourg) smallest ghost-towns ever (again sorry Luxembourg)

3. You are drunk because you have no Valium while you are alone on a plane to one of the strangest smallest ghost towns ever

The first chapter reads: HE'S NOT THAT INTO YOU IF HE IS NOT ASKING YOU OUT, because if he likes you, trust me he will ask you out

Great right...

Like I said my head exploded, and man that air-stewardess will never forget it... Let's just say I'm so glad I won't be flying to Luxembourg again anytime soon...

And that my boss was not on the plane.

Silk top with tie-back detail: Whistles, Denim Shorts: H&M, Leather Shorts: Topshop

MM x

Fancy a read, the stupid book is free with this months UK Glamour

Sorry...

I've been such a crappy blogger lately. My reason:





My gorgeous nephew was born last night.

There are no words, but now I freakin want one!

Me to nurse: Can I steal him, I mean it cuts out the work, right?

- I'll be back to my badness next week lovelies.

PP x

Marlboro On: Follow the RED fishies darling

In order not to fall into the 'I did this' and 'I did that' trap of blogging, here's my week in pictures (partly because it's slightly more interesting and a because I'm so knackers words fail me) with the occasional narrative to fill in the gaps.

1. My first photoshoot...

Vogue Nippon???

Nope... and to be clear I wasn't actually in the shoot either - between you and I, I refused... No I'm not joking *cue awkward silence* ... moving on.

The photoshoot was for a friend's new boxer range. It's his first company so instead of going to the likes of SELECT, STORM, MODELS1 or MYSELF and shelling out thousands for some top models he decided to accost attractive people on the street, well that was the idea anyway... (much harder to find than you would think, not so many buff bodied campaign ready men in London town - If it were that easy I would be having far more sex that I currently am... )

I digress.

In his desperation, he asked me if I would like to help him scout some hotness in the Abercromie and Fitch in Burlington avenue.

Abercromie is officially THE WORLDS MOST RIDICULOUS STORE ever -90s Euro trash club anthems blaring, eau de abercromie nasty pumped into the air conditioning to confuse masses ... how else would one explain the fact that people actually buying any of crap they sell, like really really?

Between amusing ourselves by asking the go-go dancers (yes hey have go-go dancers in there???) if they were given 'amphetamines to rub on their gums' to keep them dancing for 8 hours and whether we could see the 'one-armed woman'we gave up on the Abercrombie 'hotness' because frankly being in the store was far to stressful.

In the end my friend went with 'real models' who needed to fill their books - I popped down for support and also to lend some slutty dresses for the cause...

A room full of models and I fancied the photographer with the porno moustache.

Go figure.

2. The boat party

I got an invite from a very good graphic designer friend asking me to attend the launch of her new studio which happens to be on a boat. the address read:

XXX tube station and then follow the red fishies!!!

The red fishes, happened to be spray painted on the street - following them was far more fun that it should have been for anyone over the age of five... Yes, I was skipping, giggling, pointing, and squealing with delight everytime I spotted one...

3. Marry me Jude...

I went to see the understudy run of Hamlet as a very good friend is playing the 'other' [understudy to the actual] Ophelia in the play... Shakespeare - not actually my thing, but after about 10 mins, you begin to forget the 'thou arts' and all of the rest of the old English crazy talk to understand what was going on, and it was actually quite incredible (my opinion not at all swayed by the sexualness of the [other] leading man).

After the show there was an hour of chatting and drinks before my friend had to go back on stage alongside Jude Law in the actual show - (in a different role)... so the rest of the posse and I decided to busy ourselves before picking her up at 11.15pm at the stage doors

We went for some mussels at Belgo...

then some drinks,

then some more drinks and where quite plastered wehn we rocked up to the stage doors at about 11.20pm to screams of

'Marry me'

...being so drunk for a second I thought they were talking to me.

They weren't.

they were talking to him.

I didn't realised that I was a fan... in fact I'm not.

However whenever I come within a 5 mile radius of A-list celeb male all I become THE screaming teenage fan-groupie-hysterically-uncool FAN much to the dismay of my friend who sees him EVERYSINGLEDAY (arrghh).

My friends had to tempt me away with offers of champagne...

I got drunk as I didn't get Jude.

Blah

MM x x x x

Marlboro On: Conversation Du Jour

Princess to Marlboro

I've decided I want to marry a male model... they are hot and they have skateboards.

That is all.





Marlboro to Princess

hahahahaha!!

Guy in 3rd picture down we see all the time, remember - he is the guy you were eyeballing at WORK-IT.

So guy in 4th pic down wearing backpack, hottie?

Princess to Marlboro

Mother of God, that can't be him, can it...? Defo looks like him...Lordy and shine.

AND - OMG skateboard guy is the WORK-IT guy...

I hate that I have the goods, yet I don't have a model boyfriend. This was supposed to be my skinny week, yet I have already eaten two cakes today.

Ok off to have a ciggie-hollyoaks-eastenders-blog-post-ciggy-BB.

You get the point right?

Mwah.

Since we were on Milan mens fashion week & the male model theme, I thought I'd share this convo me and Princess had a week back.

Not one of our most ENTERTAINING I admit, but certainly an excuse to perv over some more hotness,

Because inside all of us, a pervert lives ...

MM x


Pics: Jak&Jil blog