Saturday, 11 February 2017

a night

We didn't want to go out. None of us did. What we really wanted was to stay at home and play with the aged karaoke machine my friend had found in a charity shop for ten quid.
We almost forced ourselves to get ready, haphazardly applying make up with a hand mirror whilst the dog tried to grab our attention and nick our hulahoops. We opened belated birthday presents and laughed at inside jokes. We tried to second guess what the DJ would play (boy would we be disappointed).
We bought five pound wine at the train station and a falafel wrap, took photos by graffiti on the way to the venue, drank all the wine in the queue and peaked far too early.
My friend said the door man was fit. He heard and laughed.
Inside the air was thick. Images of Tupac, Will Smith and other icons of the early nineties precariously hung from the high ceiling. At first the floor was sparse with self-conscious, semi-sober students looking this way and that but soon it filled with circles of moving bodies expecting better music.
The drinks were expensive so we had to rely on cigarettes and the previous wine to see us through until the early hours, although I remember drinking a free redbull which mysteriously appeared from nowhere.
Every now and then a siren would blare and a voice "ARE YOU READY?" permeated the dance floor. Ready for what? 20 seconds of a good song and then another 5 minutes of an unknown track.
We danced til 3.30am, then found a McDonald's on google maps and trekked through an industrial estate to sit there for two hours, making up bad raps, breaking vegetarianism/veganism, and dozing off. I took some questionable photos of my face to remind myself how bad I was feeling the following day.
We walked back in the general direction of the station, exactly four hours early for the train. Sofas with graffiti, Thomas the Tank Engine, a vague beat diffusing the air.
A young man rode past on his bike, grinning and at ease. He invited us to a warehouse party but we didn't have the courage to accept his invitation so we sat on a bridge and shared a burn, biding our
time with bad jokes. There was a canal boat called "Salad Days".
Our shoes were so muddy afterwards. I don't even know how.

Sunday, 22 January 2017


Snippets of unfinished sentences and blog posts from the very beginning. All rolled into one because I am terrible at completing things unless there is a deadline (sad, I know). Some of this makes me laugh. Some of this makes me want to melt into tarmac. Either way I think it's an interesting progression.

May 2014


During Easter (try to remember, I know it was like a long time ago) we headed to London (I can spell it correctly, only when I want to). We probably spent half the day trying to find various different destinations. We actually probably spent more time looking for the destinations than at the destinations. All the same, it was very fun.

Our first stop was Westfield where we wandered round speculating the surprisingly small amount of people there. We then headed to Carnaby Street, where I internally screamed upon seeing Dexter Fletcher IN THE FLESH (hotel Babylon anyone??).

Next was the National Portrait Gallery to see Bailey's Stardust. Ever since hearing about it I have wanted to see it and was the main reason for our trip. It was great, the variety of photographs was huge with Nelson Mandela in one room and Kate Moss in the next. I also loved the wide range of people there too, the cool thing about Bailey's images is that they appeal to such a wide audience. Unfortunately, any kind of photographing was out of bounds but when I was in the gift shop I managed to get a sneaky pic of Kate moss through the door (tad blurry cuz I didn't want to get busted).

June 2014

Elle Fanning???

3 magazine covers and a film in one month. The best i manage is 2 blog posts and multiple jars of penaut butter and boxes of cereal.

September 2014


In less than two weeks i will turn 16 which is both daunting and exciting. Part of me has always wished that i was born later in the year as often it feels like I am so much older than my friends and that i won't be able to do everything i want to do at this age, whereas they have months left of being 15 and wallowing in mid-teenhood. Lately I've been feeling like time is running out, like as soon as i turn 16 i will be considered too old and I'll be expected to behave like an adult the whole time. I really hate getting older as there are so many things i won't be able to do when i'm grown up e.g. spontaneously lying on the floor (inside, not advisable to do this outside).

Earlier this year i made a list of all the things i wanted to do before i turned 16, at first i was mega keen to complete every one but gradually i lost interest and to be honest i don't particularly care anymore / have set more realistic goals. When i was 11/12 i used to wish i could grow up and be in uni and be happy and have a boyfriend blah blah blah. At the time i remember my mum telling me to not wish my life away which i knew was true but to 11 year old me 16 seemed like decades away and i felt like time was going so slowly. Now i wish i had accepted my age and acted my age instead of spending 70% of my time daydreaming about unachievable feats / imagining the "exciting" life of 18 year old Suzie. I still daydream and i still have similar goals but the difference is i do not anticipate those dreams so readily now. I want them to happen one day just not today. I think i'm happy with my age and despite not wanting to turn 16 i know i must accept it.


I couldn't be bothered to post about lfw or nyfw separately so I decided to just combine them in one post. Fashion week is so confusing to me, clothes are being thrown at you left, right and centre (not literally unfortunately) and t

Ashley Williams was such a stand out. Everything about her loud prints,


Precisely at this moment in time i am listening to king krule for the first time, dressed like a lesbian from the 90s and contemplating whether it was a mistake to stay up til 1 am last night watching old graham norton show clips. meh. I got back from holiday yesterday so my body clock is drunk atm and i think its 11 am (its actually 3pm).

^that was written 3 weeks ago but i'm too sentimental to delete it so there.^


So lately I've been listening to fka twigs, I don't know whether you will have heard of her or not but she's the koolest person ever. To be honest I'm kind of indifferent to her music, some songs I like others just have no effect on me whatsoever. Either way I love her attitude and style. Also, she grew up near me which is mega surprising seeing as no one cool comes from gloucestershire (no offence). The fact that a cool person can appear from my rural part of the world is a small glimmer of hope.

November 2014

Every so often, everything builds up to something and i have to let it out (oh jeez sounds like the start of an x factor winner song...the future does not bode well). I don't keep a diary, bar one journal which i attempt to make into some kind of 'artistic' journal which is isn't really being honest with myself seeing as i am incapable of drawing. Back to the point, i don't keep a diary so i find all these feelings/thoughts/worries have to come out somehow and in a way i think this blog has helped in this way. Occasionally, i post about something honest (it may seem totally normal to you and not especially 'open') and i always feel better after it, as if writing about an issue or something important lets all these feelings out without having to tell anyone. Sometimes i read back at old posts and i feel so embarrassed, something that i felt really proud of writing at that time now appears naive and hurried, like i had put zero thought/imagination into it. But maybe at that time writing that helped me deal with whatever was going on.
When i was 11 i started writing songs/poems (that were god awful but let's not go there) and i have only realised just now that that was my way of letting it out and dealing with stuff. Back then, i wasn't really happy, nothing bad happened in my life, i just felt like secondary school would be a lot better than it actually was and nothing really lived up to my expectations. Life is like that and i now  try to accept shit stuff, and i feel a lot happier. For two years, i wrote a lot of songs and then gradually i began to write less and less until now, when i barely ever do. I used to have ideas all time but now when i pick up a note pad and paper nothing happens and i usually end up writing a list or a very short poem.

July 2015


so last week I had prom and the inevitable wave of instagram/facebook posts has still not yielded. i am actually undecided as to whether to publish this post and will probably regret it as soon as i do, but i think i should share it.  at times, i admit, it did seem slightly too reminiscent of a primary school disco; the dj insisted on playing an array of tunes including the likes of abba, grease and gangnam style and the teachers turned up in fancy dress. despite this, it was a fun night and everyone looked lovely. my friend's parents even hired a limo for us (!) which was bonkers, but actually quite fun.

at one point we sat outside to escape yet another abba song and in defiance jammed to 3005 on someone's phone until the battery ran out. personally, i felt like mark ronson should have djed but you know, he probably wasn't available.

my dress was 25 quid on ebay and is probably the best bargain i have ever sealed. it's a 1980s Frank Usher cocktail dress and i love it so much. i would wear it 24/7 if the sequins didn't fall off each time. the sandals (my poor excuse for heels) are from Office and are incredibly comfortable. as you probably already know, i am very much a practical dresser, so they are perfect for me. 

i am determined to post more regularly, I swear by the moon I shall be back soon (that wasn't meant to rhyme I swear)

August 2015

rihanna - an ode

rihanna has has always been one of my favourite people. it's not something i shout about, mainly because i am re-emerging for that really pretentious and annoying teenager phase where one takes an anti-chart music stance and attempts to unravel the meaning of life. after the release of bbhmm video last week, i thought to myself  'god dammit, i have to let the world know my passion' and here i am. i remember as an 8 year old, scrawling 'rihanna' in the 'favourite singer' box

April 2016

there is no disputing the fact that Plants and Worms speaks teenage truths and universal truths. Wait, don't all Girlpool songs speak truths??

Being unsure of everything, is a trait of teendom and Girpool's music.

August 2016

Despite the huge cultural and societal bounds incurred during the 21st century, divisions still lie strong. Racial, sexual, religious, and what encompasses all of these; cultural. Culture is fascinating, but what is it? What truly defines culture?

December 2016


Change is a constant. This is something I've realised over the past year particularly with regards t

The derelict barn where I used to take photos for this blog is now being converted into a house.

January 2017

I try and articulate myself but words fail, every time. I had five hours of exams today which zapped all brain power (why I am I even trying to write?) and

I went vegan a few weeks ago but I ate a a chicken burger the other night and I wear leather shoes. Does this make me a bad person?

I want to create but I want to act as well. This is why I chose to become vegan. For me it is the only possible path of action but I'm still scared. It's not enough.

I can now confirm I am living the "exciting" life of eighteen year old Suzie. I now recognise the heightened feelings of early teenhood which culminate in such hurried and naive writings, but I'm glad I kept this strange collection of drafts.

Suzie xo

Sunday, 9 October 2016

summer 6teen

a summer documented.

2000 trees festival

Truck Festival



i also started a film account on instagram
go follow >> @jumbledreams