Britain's Next Top Model Live at XL

As someone who channel surfs and happens to stop on Living now and then to see a bit of BNTM, I never expected to go to the live event last Friday. However with a lecture cancelled at the last minute, Friday was crying out for a little day trip!


It was pretty damn good for £19. A free make over, massage, style and colour consulation were all included. And X factor hottie Diana Vickers was performing throughout the day, allowing me to have a good ol' perve! 


I was glad that I took the opportunity to ask around for work experience. I got contacts from Company and new Fashion site and model agency, Fashion Babylon. Run by fashion photographer Michael Bailey, he's organised a launch party at plush Kensington Roof Gardens. I'm very excited to have been invited personally, as he may have work for me writing model portfolios! The party's Friday and I've invited my lovely Canadian homegirl Alicia to come with me... I'll let you know how it goes! 

Do clothes wear us?

She wore a fur coat; the colour of ivory and the texture of heaven. A pitch-black mini-dress beneath it brought out the vibrancy of her lips - red like blood. 

Scarlet? Storm? She looked like she had a name that meant something; that carried weight. Whatever it was, she gracefully strutted past me with a glow of importance. She sauntered in what looked like a student loan’s worth of designer boot. 

Powerful. Icy. Contempt. These are all words that I associated with this woman. At that particular time. 

But who is to say she was all of these things? She could in fact be powerless, warm and anxious. She caused me to wonder; do we use fashion in order to lie? A persona created from fabric. When Scarlet/Storm arrived home, and donned a pair of slouchy pyjamas, was she still all of the things I imagined her to be?

Single review: El Matador, The Lines

Listening to ‘El Matador’ is similar to feeling like you’ve been somewhere before. Within the borders of their new single release, The Lines strive in an over-the-top manner to emulate Kasabian, but instead achieve themselves a poor man’s Reverend And the Makers comparison.

            El Matador strikes us with jangly guitars, confident vocal content and promising drum technique, giving us a tasteful change to the repeatative high hat and snare scenarios we hear in indie-dance tunes. However a cow bell appearance in the middle eight seems to remind us of a scene that we have already been excited about and gotten over.

            The song builds up to a climax that doesn’t quite reach it’s potential. The chorus lacks a catchy melody, and the buzz of the roughly-produced indie tune seems to have no origin.

Don’t get me wrong. On paper this is a song that ticks a lot of boxes, but there is a noticeable lack of depth and purpose. If this were brought to the table five years ago, we’d have a massive hit on our hands. But that’s just the point. We’ve experienced all of this before. Boys, this is less El matador. More El desperado.