Ok so I'm going to be honest, this post is way overdue by around 3 weeks! I really did have such good intentions! I had so much lined up for my blog, yet so little time to actually put any of it into action and unfortunately this pretty post has had to take a back seat. It's kind of a shame really because this post would have been perfect to get you into the Autumnal mood but we're over that now. We've officially moved on to bigger and better things, with our christmas spirit in full swing and a bratwurst/mulled wine in hand (in my humble opinion maybe a little too early, I'm more a strictly only enjoy Christmas in December kinda gal).

The beauty of personal style is just that; it's personal to every single one of us in our own way, making us all so wonderfully unique. It defines who we are and reflects the things we love. We're constantly, whether we like it or not, inspired by what surrounds us every day and consciously or subconsciously we express this through our wardrobes. Some of us do this in a more subtle and abstract way; Vintage dressing to glam girls to Nordic style, it's not by any means a "pigeon hole" as such, but it does give the rest of the world a snapshot into your personal preferences. Some of us however, like to literally spell it out and announce it to the world. I guess the best example of this is the tried, tested and loved by many band tee (from Blink 182 as a teen to T Rex just the other week, I've flown the flag). Over the past few months I've grown increasingly aware, I am the latter. There are a hell of a lot of things which inspire me and I want you to know about it, apparently. Some of my favourite "tell all" pieces include; my Bella Freud "Je t'aime Jane" knit, translation- I love french style and more obviously I bloody love Jane Birkin. My Hades "The Smiths" jumper, translation- I like poetically, passive aggressive lyrics. My Blossoms Tote bag, translation- I'm a supportive girlfriend. And my Charlotte Olympia kitty slippers, translation- I'M A CRAZY CAT LADY....

If you've been keeping tabs on my Instagram recently than you'll have possibly seen that this weekend was my little old (actually young in the grand scheme of things) blog's one year birthday! *Cue Stevie Wonder- Happy Birthday*. And what an absolute MEGA year it's been. It's gone by in lightning speed but then time truly does fly when you're having fun. I've had such an amazing time and I couldn't have asked for a better response. With every month that's passed, I've been in complete awe of every single one of you; who follows me, reads my blog or gets in touch to tell me your thoughts. Please know that it never EVER goes unnoticed! At times it's been really hard (hold off on the violins for just a moment, this isn't a sob story I promise), you're constantly second guessing yourself and if you're not careful you can very easily get wrapped up in caring TOO much what others think. Word of advise for any aspiring bloggers (or anyone in general come to think of it)- LET GO of the dead weight worry. It's not needed and it will drag you down.

As with so many I guess you could say my love for The Sixties started with The Beatles when I was an early teenager and on some levels I guess that's very true. I was MASSIVELY obsessed with both Help and Revolver when I was younger and would sit cooped up in my room listening to them both on repeat. I grew up in a strictly Northern Soul household and I remember asking for the Sgt Pepper album for Christmas and my mum responding simply with... "Are you sure?". But as reluctant as my mum was about my love for The Beatles, it eventually came round in a full circle. From The Beatles, you start listening to The Kinks and The Who and Small Faces and in turn you get caught up in the beauty and nostalgia of the Mod culture. Before you know it, I was back round loving Northern Soul again. I say again because the soundtrack of my childhood was without a doubt Tamla Motown and Northern Soul; every car journey, every meal time, every occasion, it was always in the background in our household. If you'd asked me what my favourite song was when I was 7, I'd have told you anything by The Four Tops. Cheers mum!

I never understand people who choose to go away to more sunny climates in Autumn/Winter. I feel like it's the time of the year when we can truly embrace typically cold and miserable English weather. It's all part and parcel with the season; wrapping up in ten thousand layers of wool and your big winter coat, going for crisp walks and kicking around leaves like your still five years old. Getting irrationally giddy for Halloween, insisting you want to stay in, cuddle up and watch a scary film... Whilst realising 10 minutes in that this was a huge mistake (as you'll be spending every night, for the next 3 weeks doing a stealthy army roll into bed before any evil, possibly fictitious demons can get you in the dark... because everyone knows your bed is the safe zone, right?). Getting even more irrationally giddy over Bonfire Night and for some unknown reason wrapping up in EVEN MORE layers than normal... Seriously though, why do we treat Bonfire Night like an expedition to The North Pole?