I just dyed my hair black, and...well...it's gone sort of blue/red. Don't get me wrong, I've wanted black hair for a while but, upon fulfilling this wish, I have decided that I look a little 'emo'.
Besides, I digress; I was in sunny seaside Brighton yesterday for the first time in my life. Needless to mention, it did not prove to be particularly 'sunny' - rather, wet and windy, and said conditions broke my favourite umbrella. In a bid to distract myself from the unsurprisingly poor weather, I took a trip to The Lanes to slither through crowds of relentlessly trendy Brightonians and pine for an existence sufficiently 'with-it' to join them.
I know it sounds incredibly generic and hipster to state (not that you weren't all previously aware of my wannabe-hipster tendencies, anyway: what with my analog camera and homemade clothes and red hair) but I felt so in awe of everything that was going on there: the bustle of the streets, the organized chaos of the bright 1980s marketplace, the pseudo-uniqity of the ink-adorned, modestly clothed shop-owners, sat in the unassuming glow of an open 1973 Green Lantern comic book. I wish I was cool enough to fit in there.
Alas, I stuck out like a sore thumb in my H&M skirt and TK Maxx cardigan, and did my best to hide the shame of my misguided attire by taking an abhorrent number of cigarette breaks, under the cover of my unsalvageably warped umbrella, near a particular gathering of tattood boys with flesh tunnels and perfectly sculpted quiffs. None of them noticed me.
Over and out.
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