A Melbourne Weekend with me & Mickey

A little snapshot of my (supremely lazy) weekend.

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Saturday Morning: coffee- at least 2- breakfast that isn’t instant porridge, the latest episode of Riverdale and a minimum of 2 hours lazing in the living room with my housemates. Followed by a wander into the city and more hanging out with the housemates. We spend too much time together.
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Saturday afternoon
: food in Brunswick followed by more food in Brunswick followed by a gig in Fitzroy. Basically a blow-your-paycheck kinda night.disney7 disney3
Sunday: recovery and a walk around our little corner of Carlton. A movie night and a total of 0 study completion. Sweet potato fries and pizza for dinner. No guilt for lack of productivity.

And that’s basically it, folks. Wearing Disney for Big W all throughout. Happy weekending!

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Wearing: Capulet gingham top, Missguided jeans, vintage Doc Martens (1st image). Glassons turtleneck and vintage jeans (2nd image).

Helllooooooo! Aptly named this post “messy” as I feel the word is a representation of all things in my life right now- from my wardrobe to my general state of being. Overdramatic? Never.

For example: on Sunday night I attended a friend’s birthday celebration and wore my roommate Katie’s favourite vintage suede jacket. Came home somewhat intoxicated and put said jacket on the bathroom floor and went to sleep. Katie found said jacket on the floor in the morning, picked it up and put it in her room. Hungover me wakes up and begins freaking out because I can’t find the jacket anywhere- then the panic sets in and I call the uber driver, several friends, the bar we were at and then, if that wasn’t enough, went back to said bar and demanded that I search the place myself. Obviously, couldn’t find it, bought Katie a consolation donut and started fabricating how I was going to tell her. Couldn’t bring myself to do it for three days and spent hours and hours freaking out because that’s what I do. This morning finally bought her some chocolates (the donut went off) and wrote a long-winded note explaining and apologizing. RECIEVE LAUGHING PHONE CALL THIS MORNING SAYING SHE HAD JACKET THE WHOLE TIME. Small anecdote. But large indicator of level of adult capability and maturity.

So, moral of this story is when in doubt, buy chocolates because they don’t go off like donuts do. And pour yourself a glass of red wine (because that’s what real adults drink), maybe read a book and try not to beat yourself up. Because even though I do dumb shit all the time, I never am short for conversation starters. Goodnight and good luck xo

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Wearing: Glassons Bodysuit, thrifted jeans, Supre belt.

The weather is getting colder here in Melbourne (trust me, this was difficult without a jacket) which means that I’m sleeping in later, making less effort to go outside and just all-around becoming a lazier human being. Uplifting, isn’t it? I did go home for my easter break, though, spent some time in the sun (the first thing my dad said to me when I arrived at the airport was, “wow, you’re looking pale”), assisted my dad in wardrobe styling (he owns mandals) and even got roped into a five-hour canoeing adventure trip and still not really sure how I feel about that one.

Also YO gurl has a job which means I’m saving up to finally get my broken-ass-sand-filled camera repaired. Additionally, it will just be nice to not be eating chickpeas out of the tin with soy sauce for dinner. Maybe I’ll throw in some frozen vegetables. Go a bit wild. Treat myself. Have a wonderful night x

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Wearing: vintage dress, Supre belt, FallenBrokenStreet hat, RM Williams boots.

Bringin some life back into this blog with a little something from home. I literally can’t even keep track of the amount of photos taken against this purple wall- most with giggling onlookers, might I add. It’s actually some kind of a dance studio behind the famed wall so there’s never a shortage of r’n’b beats to keep things interesting. I’m home for the (very short) Easter break and have already spent 2 of my 4 days napping and eating hot cross buns. Mainly whilst weepily scrolling through my Coachella-clogged Instagram feed. What I wouldn’t give to be in a sweaty desert moshpit rn. Believe it or not-this is a thought I have often. But for now, I’m in my old-room-turned-storage-facility-guest-room with checkered sheets and a stuffed animal. Perfectly acceptable for an almost-20-year-old, right?

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