I used to make scrapbooks after my holidays. I still always intend to make a scrapbook after my holidays. I never get around to making it. Instead, I have accumulated random piles of leaflets, ticket stubs, matchbooks, restaurant cards, city maps and sugar sachets. I’ll blog about them one day – “Bookish Brunette and the scrapbooks that never happened”.   In the meantime, here’s a selection of pictures from my recent holiday to Bergerac in Dordogne, France. I didn’t have much opportunity to pose for “proper” pictures. In fact, I spent most days wearing no make-up, tatty M&S flip-flops, denim shorts and a green vest. I have no idea what it was about that vest, but I developed a strange fixation with it that meant I had to wash it four times whilst I was there.   The Dordogne region is such a beautiful place. Pebble the dog really liked it too, though that could have something to with all the rabbits she got to chase. I got wine and macarons, the dog got small and furry playmates/snacks.   BBxx      

  What a birthday weekend! Not only did I get to go out and celebrate lots, I also got this beautiful new blog!   This is the new home of Bookish Brunette, designed and built by Tom and co. at Phoenix WS, thanks to funding from SPEED WM. It also features a beautiful illustrated header by the talented and fabulous Claire Goldthorp. The site and illustration are so perfect that I shed a tear of joy when I first saw it.   Have a look around and enjoy it. This is a pretty big deal for me as I’m finally starting to realise that anything is possible. Bookish Brunette started out as a mere mouse of blog, the voice of a girl who wasn’t sure what she wanted from life, other than to write. That girl is now a journalist and business woman, who has found that life really is what you choose to make of it.   My story isn’t spectacular, I haven’t had any real adversity to overcome other than my own self-doubt. But I know that there are millions of young men and women who share the same nagging doubts and worries. You know what? Sometimes we have them for good reason, other times they do nothing but hold us back from doing what we really want to do in life.   Enough of this self-help, motivational speak. Time for pictures of me posing in an outfit in Birmingham’s Brindley Place on my 27th birthday:   Top: The Kooples Jeans: Topshop Brogues: Topshop Satchel: The Cambridge Satchel Company Sunglasses: Topshop  Necklaces: Gifts   Before posing, me and Mark went to the launch party for Brewsmiths Coffee and Tea on Livery Street in Birmingham’s Jewellery Quarter. The place had a real arty and community orientated, friendly atmosphere. The owners, Dave and Kate[.....]

  Jacket: Topshop Tennis Dress: Annie Greenabelle Leggings: M&S Shoes: Carvela (three years ago) Clutch Bag: Topshop   Going out and getting squiffy on cocktails is a blast. But it is not without problems.   When I’ve had a few too many margaritas, I tend to leave things in taxis and spend the whole of the next day mentally torturing myself for my stupidity.   I wore this outfit for mine and my husband’s joint birthday celebration on Saturday night. We had yummy chinese food at Cafe Soya before heading to the Victoria and Island Bar for cocktails. I tried my first ever Campari and soda (arsey soap water from HELL) and had a gorgeous Boston Sour (with the egg white, always with the egg white).   I’m going to blame the Campari for me leaving this jacket in the taxi. It looked so cute and I adored it, even if my husband said it reminded him of the costumes in “Total Recall”.   Leaving jackets and cardigans in cabs is one of my bad habits. I’d like to think that the drivers pass them on to their appreciative teenage daughters, though they probably end up in a manky box in some godforsaken taxi rank that reeks of damp and fag smoke.   The shoes are my wedding shoes. They get an annual outing, then I remember how painful they are and tuck them back into their box for another year until the pain is wiped from my memory.   The dress/tunic is by Annie Greenabelle – an ethical label that specialises in wonderfully sweet dresses in reclaimed, Fairtrade and organic fabrics. Their catalogue is like entering my dream world: cupcakes, picnics and little dogs.   It was a fun outfit for a fun evening, albeit tinged with jacket related[.....]

Now, believe it or not, I have a rough idea of how this style blogging thing is meant to work. I’m meant to deftly mix high street “pieces” with designer and vintage. Every now and then, I’m supposed to pull some proper crazy shit, like wear a cape or turn a long skirt into a dress by pulling it up over my boobs and adding a belt. Well, yeah. Not today. Here I am wearing an outfit entirely from the Topshop sale, with the exception of the pumps which are from Tesco*. Introducing the outfit of corporate evil. Looks good though, doesn’t it? *Note: the satchel is from Cambridge Satchel. I kind of take it as a given as it has appeared in practically every picture I have ever posted, .

Dress: Poot Vintage Necklace: Gift Shoes: Deadly is the Female   Everything I’m wearing in this photo is from Frome, a small town in northeast Somerset. There’s a street in the town called Catherine Hill which is lined with some gorgeous boutiques and vintage shops. I picked up the dress when visiting my friend Elly back in February and I ordered the shoes online a couple of weeks later. Blue glittery shoes are not something that I ever thought I’d own. It is hard to wear them and forget that I am wearing blue glittery ballroom dancing shoes. I worry that they are the female equivalent of the “wacky shirt”. Yet they work so well with this dress and they also look great with skinny jeans and funky socks. I look really tired in these pictures, this is partly because they were taken at the end of the craziest couple of weeks. It is also because the lighting in our lounge was rubbish and no amount of messing and modging around with the photos could make them look flattering and natural. I haven’t blogged pictures of an outfit for ages and I felt so good wearing this outfit that I wanted to share it with you. My hair is on the brink of something big. It is at that awkward nondescript length and, frankly, needs a good cut. I’m ready for something different and a bit wild. May be a bad-ass streak of platinum blonde inspired by Rogue from X-Men. She was my childhood hero because she could fly and had amazing hair. The flying part may not be achievable without some form of mechanical intervention but the amazing hair is but a lengthy salon visit away…* BBxx *I’ll probably chicken out and get some “so subtle you can’t actually[.....]

I’m not superstitious. I run underneath ladders, step on cracks and regularly put up umbrellas whilst indoors. Fair enough, I always salute lonely magpies but that is more to cheer them up than to prevent bad luck. Being a single urban magpie can’t be easy. Friday 13th has never bothered me. They come and go. Some are good, some are bad; just like Thursday 12th or Saturday 14th. If only I could have applied such logic on Friday. If you’d have bumped into me at 3.30pm on that day, you would  have found me cursing the fates and ranting about how I should have just stayed in bed because bad thing ALWAYS happen to me on Friday 13th. After struggling for an hour with University printing logistics, I finally left the library to head home for the weekend. Alas, it was raining and extremely windy and I was wearing this outfit: Straw hat: H&M Red and black dress: Jesire White cardigan: Zara Mary Janes: New Look Yep, there’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes. I wanted to punch whoever said that as I chased my straw hat across the quad, water sneaking inside my pretty white shoes. I went to Mom’s house for tea, sympathy and an egg custard tart. By that time it was sunny again and I got to explore Mom and Dad’s pretty garden with my gorgeous Cocker Spaniel Pebble: Their garden is one of my favourite places. The high walls remind me of the “Secret Garden”. When the gates are shut it becomes idyllic and peaceful, even though the main road is mere metres away. Dad was really proud of his new Irises. The dog tried to go for a swim in the pond whilst we admired their blousey petals: The big[.....]

  Silk scarves are my second favourite accessory after huge beads. Following a couple of days of being generally dull, I woke up this morning feeling that it was a tacky silk scarf kind of day, ideally a tacky silk scarf featuring animals. Equine themed scarves are just that little bit too obvious; you know that a trend has jumped the shark when New Look are stocking snaffle loafers. No, horses just wouldn’t do the trick. A giraffe, zebra, lion and/or elephant print was what I was craving. Alas, the wardrobe was lacking on the big game front. Then I remembered; African big game is all well and good, but British wildfowl is where it is truly at! My big sister treated me to this scarf at a vintage fair last year. It was in one of those rummage bins where you can pick two items for a couple of quid. She got this and an amazing giraffe and elephant scarf that she (selfishly) kept for herself. Her hands  smelt funny after rummaging in the bin, but we won’t dwell on that too much. You know that a garment is well worth a £1 when it is both stylish and educational. I can now distinguish a Mallard from a Mandarin and a Tufted Duck from a Teal. What has your scarf taught YOU today??? BBxx