Hey Bloggettes, Followers and Friends…

I’ve at last got a makeup artist booked for the wedding. A Chanel specialist at that – she’s my good friend Melodie and her artwork is amazing. Although I was planning to do my make up myself, (a DIY attempt that hopefully wouldn’t translate to “Destroy It Yourself”) Melodie pleasantly (and thankfully) offered up her services…It’s very apt that I have a makeup artist who happens to also be a Chanel specialist; my wedding is due to possess vintage undertones with a sharp monochrome outline, so, Chanel is very apt indeed.

My obsession with all things black and white began when at age nine or ten, I witnessed my first Tim Burton movie; Edward Scissor Hands. I simply loved Edwards gaunt white face and dark cherry bitten lips, his all-black leather catsuit, with the high Victorian neckline, he simply was too cool.
I fell in love with this unlovable creature and his death-by-touch scissor hands.
Nightmare Before Christmas changed my life shortly afterwards; I wanted to be part of Burton’s desaturated world filled with Elfman minor-toned songs and quirky stop-motion animation.
So, promptly at age 21, I took the opportunity after my sister moved out (we once shared a room) and my fiancé moved in, to transform my room with French Gray painted walls, a black and white bed, black voille curtains and just about monochrome everything else….
My little Jack teddy still to this day sits proudly on my black pillows, nestled in amongst the furry cushions and throws that make my room feel like the blacked out Savoy Hotel.
Bit by bit more quirky titbits joined the brigade; Thomas Sabo Jewellery box, a black baroque-style containers for makeup, a monochrome striped pencil holder for my make-up tools. Pretty boxes for letters, canvases to decorate the walls, underbed storage for shoes…the list goes on…
Everything in my room has a home and a perfect place, and everything serves a purpose!
room view 2
room view 3
room view 1
room view 4

I was traumatised as a child – growing up in a family full of hoarders; My nana used to have so much stuff, I used to imagine I was in a game of crystal maze – whilst travelling from room to room! As I matured into adulthood, I had a growing distaste for clutter and the habit of possessing too much stuff.
Clothes banks became my hobby and storage boxes became my friends; OCD had settled into my nature…
However, in the last year or so, I have accumulated a shameful amount of beauty products. The inner girly-girl in me is fighting to get out of my slightly androgynous exterior. Lipsticks, blushers, skin care ranges have begun dominating my domains. …
Room View 6
room view 5
Makeup 3
My stuff has now started creeping its way into the bathroom, even if I subtract the Mr’s bits and bobs – yes, he has been converted also, my man needs to look after his skin and hair, especially with the wedding coming up… Can’t have no dry-hands-close-up-shots of him slipping on the wedding band, onto my elegant, conveniently manicured and moisturized hands – his hands looking all arid and sh*t…Those pictures are for life after all… I still can not get away from the blatant fact, that now, after many years of criticizing my hoarder relatives… I admittedly, have *said as quiet as a mouse* have *head bows* too much stuff

Confession over!


La Minx