I like the non reality of being a teenager. It is a million times more about the expectation than the arrival. I have a friend who doesn't like those fantasies. I told her she was a fuckass. This is our last chance at living in a dreamworld, I told my teddie Charlie (after the Bonnie Prince) Sebastian (after Flyte). He laughed.

"You'll always live in a dream world." He said.

So. today I realised there are no blogs dedicated to just. Average outfits. Sometimes I just want to look at fucking average clothes and roll my eyes. Anyway, it's spring so I won't worry too much. Here are the daffodils I walk past on the way to school. The first day I saw them I got so happy, incredibly buzzy.

This is taking forever. I haven't read a proper book in MONTHS. It's so unlikely of me! I've been filling myself with fucking pop culture, which is amazing of course: spending weeks looking at molly soda on tumblr (my sisters account tho) and watching enormous amounts of Friends and Doctor Who. So to ease myself back into the awe inspiring world of literature (which I think sadly does not include detective stories- of which I've been devouring) I'm going to read Richard Dawkins The Greatest show on Earth. More on that tomorrow.

It's interesting- I have this issue with lookbook also. I have all these outfits and I only ever seem to take photos of the shitty ones. Oh well. Here are some shitty outfits.

actually I sort of liked this. My cheap WORLD skirt- oh how I love WORLD- from the Salvation army, my grandfathers cardigan, a $1 white shirt from a t

hrift store in Taranaki, and my $10 Doctor Martens from the Aro St fair. I actually wore this with a belt and it's just the sort of thing I usually spend my weekends in- I can't imagine why I wore it to school.

McGregor tartan (almost) kilt from St Michael's Fair. Unlabelled top from Paper Bag Princess. I don't understand how I keep putting such cheap clothes on my blog! Most of my clothes are a fair bit more then this.

xx Nico

My Patronus is a Merman.

What the houses lack, as specified in the book, is ART. I know, that probably goes to Ravenclaw, or at least Sarah (above it all? beneath it all? deriving pleasure or aiming to tease?) would hope so. I long to be in Ravenclaw. But I know. I know I will be a Hufflepuff. The goths, the indies, the babes... that is where we will end up, partying all night and feeling misunderstood.

Some people thrive and constantly get affirmation of their brilliance. This makes them into very strange people. Some are lovely, like our head girl- but she was once my best friend and I have never had a proper best friend since so she's special. Some are weird. Some are insecure but at the same time- hyper secure. They create their own little realities and constantly battle themselves for their beliefs. I am sadly not quite brilliant at school, but then, nor was my mother and she told me it doesn't matter. I used to spend long nights dreaming of Oxfordian spires and then I realised. I am so average. It doesn't matter but you do feel it... Just like that line in Freaks and Geeks- DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO BE TOLD YOU'RE STUPID AT ELEVEN YEARS OLD? WHERE DO YOU GO FROM THERE? Often how I feel about high school. But I'm just being silly.

So today I felt like myself. Reading all these American Blogs about the beginning of school has given me serious back to school vibes. The dress is thrifted- actually we call it op-shopped in NZ- and I am planning to renovate the sleeves, adding faux leather panels like thee latest Karen Walker collection. Even though I hate Karen Walker. The silhouette of the dress is not quite right for me at the moment, but I think the sleeves will help.

I seriously love this black jersey. It has fur at the shoulders and was $30 from Glassons BITCHES. The belt was a dollar from the Salvation Army and is the only belt I ever wear. I can't imagine who got rid of it.

I look very young in these photos. Which is BRILLIANT- I WANT TO BE FIFTEEN. This is my schoolbag which is totally cliched but don't care. It came from the Aro St Fair last year- where I also got my $10 Dr. Martens. Probably the best purchase of my life. The jacket is another purchase I fell in love with. It's Green Suede and SO SOFT. The Label is Jeffery Chandel. BUT BUT BUT the whole point of this outfit was my shoes...

I have sewn Dr. Marten tags on the back- cos I do faggish things like that. BUT LOOK. Tartan is my thing, and they are Tartan, and they are like- 14 hole! Black, which is my favourite although I might but a second hand pair and paint them floral- even though that too is utterly faggy. When I use the word 'fag' by the way it's just a word; probably about smoking. You know? those girls who go and fag? I don't mean homosexual. Call a spade a spade man.

Anyway. THEY WERE $50. Hard.

xx Nico

There's a storm if the Maori member is French- 17 down

Today i began what I hope will be a lifelong ritual of doing the morning crossword. As it turns out, I am not as awful as I expected. What happens is because I read people I assume I am good at things like scrabble and crosswords. I am definitely not good at scrabble. As a result of this I naturally assumed I was bad at crosswords also, and although I'm not far wrong I'm rather proud of myself. I didn't actually do it in the morning as I was busy sleeping in and dreaming of Hotels, so I took the paper with me to school and almost got it confiscated for wondering what 5 down was out loud. This is my Art History teacher; who is under some highly mistaken misconceptions... (tautology?)... about me. She honestly believes I am an idiot. I want to tell her, my darling, I'd say, I am doing badly because I choose to. When the time comes, I will do well. It annoys me that she thinks, because of a few years and a degree, that she is an inherently smarter person than me. Perhaps she has intelligence- I can not tell- but she certainly has perception. Mind you, my only teacher who does have perception used to be a Goth and hates Harry Potter, although he's lovely- there you go.

I know I am going to miss the complaining and the witty banter with my teachers. I wish I'd savoured it. University will be SO. MUCH. BIGGER. Even here, in this Rugby obsessed country. I think, however, whatever people say, my world is still revolving around me- how can I escape that? I am not going to lose, or find myself. I will simply be. and continue to be, until, I suppose, I begin to tire of myself. Then I think I'll die. AND I WILL NOT MISS THE UNIFORM.

xx Nico

There's a big difference between Seals and Sea Lions.

I went for a walk on Monday after school, roaming the waterfront for relics of relatives. All across the waterfront there are big plastic squares on the ground. I believe they are to do with the upcoming games- Rugby. It's something to do with the World Cup... I don't know. I plan to be in NYC before that happens. Myrah and I skipped across them choosing our dream husbands. Fuck, marry, or kill? she asked. But she can't be blamed.

And all the people looked at me, as if they knew me. I suppose they did. As Myrah flew away in her silver sports car I thought I heard a voice. It's those seals again, singing to me from under the ocean. They are witty- they sang me 'Set me as a seal upon thy heart'. I still don't know what they mean. Of course, when I asked a passer by he simply laughed in his hipster glasses and said he only heard the waves.

XX Nico

My Growing Fondness for Lipstick.

Last week I was Punk on Monday and had become a 90s Grunge kid by Friday. However, my fabled mother from a tower far above where the newspaper is delivered each morning and they have i-pads covered in white leather gave me a pink lipstick this evening. My style has changed substantially since then, and I have re-discovered my thrifted Chanel pearls and scarf's that I used to tie lovingly around my left wrist."What's this for?" enquired one Celeste, pulling it softly one day. "A lead?"

"No my dear." I replied, and drifted off enigmatically.

My old blog no longer recognises me, probably having the same problem many do as working out what colour my hair is. It is red, as we speak, because Amelia Pond has red hair. So, as my style morphs into Knitted-Chic, I will rest my eyes and ponder my purchase of orange lipstick. Orange, because that's the colour of a classic Penguin Classic. It's true that I am more likely to find my nose in a Green Penguin, as Mysteries are a source of Great Comfort Reading for me, but Green Lipstick is not for me, not this year. I did like http://niceandshiny.blogspot.com/ 's green dip-dyed hair, but with mine I think I would be getting a rather unwanted Christmas effect.

And now, Adieu, to sleep and dream of Bolsheviks and English Soup.

xx Nico