1. That time I met Charlotte Tilbury  //  2. Throwback to 2003 with Less Than Jack & Reel Big Fish  //  3. Prada sunglasses, pretty makeup things & a flower crown  //  4. I have a stationery addiction and I’m not sorry  //  5. I bought a Bite Maple matte lipstick (Mulled Maple)  //  6. Vichy sent me a cute tumbler to make sure I keep hydrated this summer  //  7. #CBBdoesTHEFACESHOP, cue much excitement  //  8. Pretending to be Lana Del Rey for a day – no idea why I’m making that face  //  9. New super hydrating skincare from Vichy

July has been a real throwback to 2004. Sharing my favourite emo memories with Julie, Chelle and Zoë reminded me of how much I used to love Fall Out Boy and From First to Last. Did I really find Sonny Moore attractive? I spent hours clicking through Youtube, rediscovering songs I thought I had forgotten. Over ten years, and I still know all the words to “Ohio Is for Lovers”. I wore a lot of eyeliner back then – and went for days without removing it. The beauty blogger in me is not impressed, but it is hilarious. I’ve somehow reverted back to the emotional state I was in at sixteen and can’t seem to shake it, but it makes for some interesting writing that I will no doubt enjoy reading for the next ten years (or not). 

To keep up with this month’s theme, I thought I’d share my favourite poem from Revolution on Canvas. If you’ve ever had an emo/pop punk/alternative phase, you’ll remember it as the collection of poems curated and edited by Rich Balling of Rx Bandits and published in 2004. The poem is by Jesse Kurvink of Hellogoodbye and it may not be special to anyone else, but it is special to me. I was a little bit obsessed with it as a teenager and read it again this month. Every day. Obsessively. 

“So I guess this is the soundtrack to the summer? You’ve been sick since April which is about how long I’ve known you. Lately you’ve been staying over because you can’t bring yourself to go home and you say you don’t remember what it’s like to be more or less content with your life. Well, here’s a little jogger for your memory if you can’t quite recall the countless nights we stayed awake trying to forget about the Fall: we were sitting in my room, not getting tired after two a.m. we were listening to “The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle”. We were sitting up in bed and I was playing with your hair and you said “the summer isn’t over yet but I feel like the trees are already dead” and I said “maybe that’s just something inside of you that’s been blooming and dying for years”, and you left with my sweatshirt like you always did, loudly out my front door and quietly into your side one. And when I finally convinced you to come back out I took you for a walk and we talked about all the things I’d been afraid to say for the last six months. Do you remember now? Do you?”