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    • GEORGIA STEAD

    GEORGIA STEAD

    Essentially all the compartments of my brain spilled onto one web page. With lots of Sex and the City references.

    From maybe the age of four, I have been an active obsessor of shoes. It sounds ridiculous; it's not exactly a lifetime ago since I was four, and it isn't normal for a toddler to have a certain taste when it comes to what goes on her feet, but I'm pretty sure I knew what I liked (on my feet) early on. I can tell you that I had a pair of silver heels, a christmas gift that I completely adored. I also had a pair of school shoes from Ravel, a shop now long gone, that had slight wedges on them. I am not sure how I got away with those in primary school but I promise you I wore those shoes to death, until the wedge pretty much became a flat. 

    Today, I have many pairs of shoes that spend more time in boxes than on my feet, but I prefer to call it the sensible preservation of beautiful items. The more well-kept they are, the nicer they look when I occasionally break them out for the odd party or family event. The majority of said shoes are heels, in the form of strappy sandals, mules and courts, and each pair is like a beloved child to me. They mark important but recent parts of my life and each different pair reminds me of why I bought them in the first place. Usually a memory as simple as finding the last pair in the sale for almost 80% off can lift my spirits. Therefore, I see no reason to get rid of any one of them. 

    Having watched all six seasons of Sex and the City about three times, as well as the two so-bad-they're-good films, I feel as though the series is embedded into my teenage-hood as an important part of becoming an adult. It has taught me about the value of friendship and, among some of the more taboo subjects, the shameless love of a good shoe. Although I had heard of Manolo Blahnik before watching, I hadn't realised just how paramount a moment it was for a girl to buy her first pair. At the moment, I am yet to own any, but I am working on it and I think if Carrie Bradshaw had had access to TheRealReal back then, she definitely would've had less trouble prioritising between paying for shoes or rent. 

    In a way this is almost like a thank-you letter to a fictional character, because I feel as though Carrie made me look at growing up and being a woman from a new point of view. Granted she had numerous messy relationships that aren't so promising, but she still stands as an icon of aspiration as she combines her love for both men and shoes into her work, allowing her to then buy more shoes and splurge on mid-day cocktails with her friends. 
    And if that is not the circle of life, then I don't know what is. 



    G.






    Image: Twitter
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    posted by . Wednesday 29 March 2017 . /
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    👡 AN ODE TO CARRIE

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    posted by . Wednesday 29 March 2017 . /

    From maybe the age of four, I have been an active obsessor of shoes. It sounds ridiculous; it's not exactly a lifetime ago since I was four, and it isn't normal for a toddler to have a certain taste when it comes to what goes on her feet, but I'm pretty sure I knew what I liked (on my feet) early on. I can tell you that I had a pair of silver heels, a christmas gift that I completely adored. I also had a pair of school shoes from Ravel, a shop now long gone, that had slight wedges on them. I am not sure how I got away with those in primary school but I promise you I wore those shoes to death, until the wedge pretty much became a flat. 

    Today, I have many pairs of shoes that spend more time in boxes than on my feet, but I prefer to call it the sensible preservation of beautiful items. The more well-kept they are, the nicer they look when I occasionally break them out for the odd party or family event. The majority of said shoes are heels, in the form of strappy sandals, mules and courts, and each pair is like a beloved child to me. They mark important but recent parts of my life and each different pair reminds me of why I bought them in the first place. Usually a memory as simple as finding the last pair in the sale for almost 80% off can lift my spirits. Therefore, I see no reason to get rid of any one of them. 

    Having watched all six seasons of Sex and the City about three times, as well as the two so-bad-they're-good films, I feel as though the series is embedded into my teenage-hood as an important part of becoming an adult. It has taught me about the value of friendship and, among some of the more taboo subjects, the shameless love of a good shoe. Although I had heard of Manolo Blahnik before watching, I hadn't realised just how paramount a moment it was for a girl to buy her first pair. At the moment, I am yet to own any, but I am working on it and I think if Carrie Bradshaw had had access to TheRealReal back then, she definitely would've had less trouble prioritising between paying for shoes or rent. 

    In a way this is almost like a thank-you letter to a fictional character, because I feel as though Carrie made me look at growing up and being a woman from a new point of view. Granted she had numerous messy relationships that aren't so promising, but she still stands as an icon of aspiration as she combines her love for both men and shoes into her work, allowing her to then buy more shoes and splurge on mid-day cocktails with her friends. 
    And if that is not the circle of life, then I don't know what is. 



    G.






    Image: Twitter
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    👡 AN ODE TO CARRIE
    posted by . Friday 24 March 2017 . / / /

    A compilation of photos taken, saved and found over the past month. The majority of which are summery and bright because clearly I have suffered from holiday nostalgia this March. Not even the sound of rain has been able to cure my longing for summer holidays in European cities and the Italian south. It may just be that this curation of images has helped me through a treacherous week of mock exams. So I'm hoping that I get the chance to book a flight to a warm, golden destination soon, before I start to feel homesick for places I've never been to.

    photos: instagram, my own, twitter

    G.

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    🌻 MARCH BOARD
    posted by . Tuesday 14 March 2017 . /

    Around the same time every year I start to feel closed in. It's pre-exam season, I have stress-induced acne from my face to my shoulders to my back and the dry, harsh, frankly British climate is killing any last natural oils on my skin and hair. I am awaiting the "spring clean" motivation to get me out of this winter slump and into a well-oiled and organised machine. This is about the time where funnily enough I get an itch to escape. To jump on a plane and venture into the tropics where the weather compliments my freckles and rids me of my red undertone.

    It may be that I've watched too many of the Kardashian (luxurious) "vacation" episodes recently, in order to postpone monotonous piles of revision, or maybe it is this odd month of March where the seasons are in limbo, but I need a holiday. So. Much. 

    I always wonder if those who live abroad in these hot, sunny climates often dream of venturing to our northern districts. Do they feel the pre-spring itch of longing for a getaway? If it were me I don't think I'd ever leave. To live a life in constant freckle season is to live the dream for someone like me. Even though I am saying this now, I am currently freezing in a heat-less house with a king size duvet on my single bed in arctic Britain, therefore it may be a bit bias to worship warmer islands. But the grass is always greener. In actual fact I am a victim of sunburn on every single holiday I've ever taken. Without a doubt. All I have to do is step off of a plane onto foreign land where the sun actually passes the clouds and instantly I am red. A human tomato. And although it is painful at the time, I am still nostalgic for previous summers where lying on a chair swing reading was the height of activity.

    As opposed to revision timetables and dehydrated fatigue.



    G.






    Image: my own


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    🌈 AN ITCH
    posted by . Monday 6 March 2017 . / /

    It's a well-known cliché that people find love in Paris. It's actually a clichéd story that my parents have. But for me, and probably many others, Paris itself was like a first love. I had dreamed about it and knew about it before ever visiting, and when I eventually did, everything about the city clicked. I felt as though I belonged somewhere, where the cafés are always busy and the buildings look pretty even in the rain. One might say that it is due to the effect of rose-tinted glasses that we have this outlook on the place, but I really do think that if you are meant to be somewhere, you will feel instantly at home. Although Paris isn't the only city that I feel at ease in, it definitely was the first. And like the myth of a first love, everything about my initial visit there was both exciting and instinctive.

    I recently got back from my second visit to Paris, in which it rained for all of the four days I was there, and even though I was momentarily blinded by rain drops on the way to Sacré Coeur, it was still as beautiful a view as ever from the top. A view worth being blinded for. It may be due to the history my parents have with Paris but I've always felt a far-from-normal connection with the occasional prints of the Eiffel Tower in Ikea. And even after hanging multiple on my bedroom walls, nothing beats the real thing. It's a tourist attraction of course, therefore making it not very Parisian to visit, but it's symbolic of the unexpected things in life that we fall in love with. Instead of being torn down, the Eiffel Tower has become a famous image internationally, and a beloved destination in the eyes of those with "Instagram goals". 

    In comparison to my first ever trip, this one showed me a gloomy side of Paris that still failed to disappoint as it probably never will. I would have been happy to sit in Café de Flore all day - another spot on the more touristy side - and watch the Fashion Week attendees float in for a jug of melted chocolate. And although that St Germain-de-Pres area may be more on the idealistic side, I discovered the places of Paris that I could really call my own; the places that I dream of seeing everyday on my daily commute. 

    The worst part, however, isn't the two hour delay on the Eurostar or the rush through King's Cross to the next train. The worst part is coming home to a place that is nowhere near as mentally and creatively stimulating, or as fun and lively. So for the next week or two I'll be in a permanent daze of reminiscence, trying to work out a way of escaping the distance that separates me from my first love; Paris.



    G.






    Image: Instagram @georvxa
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    PARIS
    posted by . Wednesday 1 March 2017 .

    Everybody who has ever taken part in an ice-breaker session knows that one activity where you have to go around the circle and state your name and one thing you're interested in. Personally, I hate ice-breaker games. That one in particular. 

    In primary school, we are all asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?". We are asked to label ourselves at such an early stage that it cuts every interest we could possibly have had down to one word that is meant to be a straightforward path for the rest of our lives. It's as though we can't have more than one form of enjoyment, like we aren't allowed to pursue multiple interests and hobbies. Sometimes in schools the question later becomes "Are you academic or creative?". But why can't we be both. Why can't we be creatively fuelled and academically successful? 

    I would say that I am definitely creative. I've written stories since I was four, which is the same age that I used to change clothes three times a day, because I felt that simply one outfit could not accommodate all of my toddler events. Even now, style is still a major form of expression for me and I design, photograph and paint when I can. Colour and image are incredibly engaging, but it doesn't mean that I can't be a high level student. I would go as far as to say that it actually takes my learning to new heights and allows me to think outside the box because I possess an interest and a knowledge for more than just one thing. 

    What I am trying to get at is that you should never feel limited to a singular pursuit. Aim for anything and everything if you believe that you can achieve them. It is wrong to close people into one area of interest. Instead, broaden your penchant. It is more than fine to adore something like drawing, as well as the anatomy of skin. You can be an avid skateboarder and still have a love for Hemingway. 

    Don't let people put you in a box if nothing in it ignites your mind.
    List more than one interest in that ice-breaker game.



    G.






    Image: Instagram @georvxa
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    🌈 MULTIFACETED MIND
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    Bonjour Gia .
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