Thoughts

Self-dependant

Love.
The crazy, stupid feeling.

You wake up at 4am and turn to the cold, empty side of your bed.
Revisiting past lovers in your dreams.
You eat your breakfast in an empty house,
the blurred sounds of a love song playing on the radio behind you.

Our world has taught us that finding love
is the equivalent to finding meaning in our lives.
If you believe that, you’re already doomed from the start.

You’ll find yourself falling in love with the idea of a person.
You’ll meet soul after soul, transforming them into someone else in your mind,
romanticising every word that comes out of their mouth and every freckle on their face.

Growing up with parents who have been happily married for 3 decades, I saw the world through love and a partner being the ultimate goal in life.
I’m a hopeless romantic.
I always will be.
Past lovers have left me broken in two,
walking with a numb heart and a tired soul,
yet I still somehow believe in the concept of love.

However, you need to know, true happiness can be achieved without love.
There is so much more life has to offer
than screaming at another human being for not loving you the way you desire.
There are places to explore, skills to develop, and friendships to find that will fulfil you in a way that love can’t.

There has been nothing more momentous and significant in my life
than learning how to be truly self dependant.
Packing my bags and moving to a town on the other side of the world where I did not know a single soul, walking into an empty house every single day, and having to push myself out of bed on days where depression pins me down to the floor.

I did it. Without love.
Without having someone to tell how my day has been.
You can do it to.
You don’t need someone. You can want love.
You can want all the incredible experiences that come with it.
But you do not need it.

You already have everything you will ever need in life
within your own soul.

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Thoughts

Lovers of The Past

In solitary times, it’s not unusual to think about the life we have already lived.
A smell. A song. A place.
It can teleport you back to a distant memory in your mind.

I have loved many people in my life.
Although, I have only been in love with one.

To me, you can love many things.
I love the people who smile at you on the street.
I love the when you walk out of the ocean and lay on the sand on a warm day,
and you feel the sun kissing your skin.
I love animal’s eyes, and the story they’re trying to tell you through them.

Yet, I love some people for what they have taught me, through hurting me.
I love that they have made me stronger. Wiser.

My lovers of the past, some for a short moment, some for years,
will always stick in my mind.
The ghosts I revisit in my dreams.
They are ghosts,
because they simply don’t exist anymore.

There was the high school sweetheart.
The popular boy. The boy who was envied by his friends,
and craved by the girls.
How foolish I was to believe that was love, at fourteen.
Love is not making up excuses for someone as they leave bruises on your body.
Love is not tolerating someone because those around you tell you
he can do so much better.

At sixteen, I left.
It took being strangled to leave.

And I will never forgive myself
for not leaving sooner.

The next few months were a blur.
A careless sixteen year old, who was lost in the world.
A girl with no true identity.
I found myself in the arms of boys who found it entertaining to mislead girls.
Yet, I allowed myself to go through this.
I didn’t know any different.
I didn’t know what love was.

And then,
I met the person who changed that.

The first time we met, I already knew.
I realised my life was about to change.
There was something so different. Something I’d never felt before.
I felt this unexplainable pull towards him, and before I knew it, three years passed.

They say your first love never dies,
but the people we were did.
Those memories will live on forever in my mind, even if we don’t exist anymore.

We dissolved, and everything became blurry.
Days merged into one.
And whenever I would open my eyes,
I would find myself standing in a nightclub, surrounded by insincere smiles.
In a sea of people,
Yet still so alone.
Dancing with blurred vision and holding hands with those
who only pretended to like me
so they could enjoy the perks.
Dazed and uncertain, I walked up to the bar,
and stumbled into the next one.

The Artist.

I knew his face for years, only through a pile of pixels on a screen.
He taught me more about myself than anyone else ever could.
Deliberately or unknowingly, he was the one who showed me who I truly was.

The artist was a distant, unreachable man.
The type of man who was only put on your path for a split second,
so that you would finally understand.
I remember tracing the art on his body with my fingertips,
knowing all along that he would disappear.
Although temporary, the happiness I felt exploring the world together
compensated for all the sadness that surrounded my life at that time.

The artwork went up in flames,
and I provided the fuel for it to explode.
I buried my head in the sand,
blaming my problems on everyone else.

As months passed by, so did men.
Men who would promise me the world,
Yet once given the key to my mind,
would steal everything they could,
and run.

Mornings turned into silence.
Waking up to emptiness on the left side of my bed.
And that’s when I met the greatest love of all.

Myself.

Empty months guided me onto the path of who I am.
I began to feel a joy in living a life without strings pulling me down.

And then,
along came The Bird.
I landed at his airport, adrenaline pumping through my blood like electricity.
I found myself bewildered, standing in his kitchen and looking into the eyes of a man
I never believed I’d ever meet.

The bird was the universe’s way of showing me someone who met all of my criteria.
Only to prove to me that what I want, isn’t necessarily what I need.
A beautiful being, who I always knew was just out of my reach.

He flew back into the sky, and at that moment,
I knew I would never experience something like that again.
Can it truly ever be ‘right person, wrong time’?
How can it ever be ‘right person’, if it was not meant to be?

I learned how to fall back in love with myself,
close the book on my past,
and fly to the other side of the world.

To start again.
In a place where the ghosts of my past
can no longer haunt me.

Fashion · Lifestyle · Thoughts

The Clear Out

Is it just me, or do you ever feel suffocated by the mess around you?
I always find that a clear environment provides me with a clear mind.

For me, I find that clearing out my wardrobe and donating to charity every few months not only creates a feeling of space within my environment, but it’s always an amazing feeling to donate to others.

Today I decided that it was the day. (Thanks Beans for the help!)

I find the easiest way to organise my clothes is to be as brutal as possible when it comes to picking the ones for the donation pile. Too often in the past have I decided to keep clothes that “I may wear one day”, but I know deep down I never will.

I often ask myself, “If you were going out to an event or a birthday tonight – would you wear this?” even if the answer “I’m not sure”, that item is going straight into the donation pile.

It can always feel disheartening to say goodbye to much-loved clothes of yours, but you’ll always feel a sense of freedom and space once it’s gone.

Here are all the light coloured clothes that I now own.
Who’d thought we’d ever see the day, right?! A whole wardrobe section with no black!

Ever since donating 95% of all I owned before moving to the UK, I’ve found it tremendously easier to part with material items. I hate to hoard things for the sole purpose of having a “collection”, as I’m someone who likes to buy things for practical uses.

Following on from that – I now own 10 pairs of shoes in total. I have 3 pairs of runners (aka trainers / sneakers), 1 pair of “smarter” runners, 2 pairs of flip flops, 2 pairs of heels, 1 pair of ugg boots and a pair of sliders.

And you know what? I’m so happy with that.

I’m really glad that I’ve started to wear more colour ever since moving to the UK.
Strangely enough, I feel as though I’m becoming more like my Mum, the further away I am from her. I told her about this – and it’s something I’m yet to understand.
My Mum loves wearing white, pastel and light colours. She also loves pairing it with her luxury bags, high end perfumes, etc.
I’ve noticed ever since moving here, I’ve caught myself staring at high end items more and more.
I have never had an interest for “labels”, as I can’t comprehend paying over $1000 for a single bag, when I’m a person who’s all about practicality.

In fact, the purse I use on a daily basis cost me £10. The bag I often use on a daily basis, and also take to events, was $20 on Princess Polly. I love both of these items, and I would never judge a person on what label their clothing was, because it doesn’t mean anything to me.

However, as I grow older, I think one day I’d love to own a high end / luxury bag. I do own a Michael Korrs bag, which cost me around $200, and I only ever use that bag for special occasions. I’m so precious about that bag, so I can’t imagine what I’d be like if I owned one worth over $1000+!

Do you own a luxury bag? If so, which one do you have?

Back to the wardrobe – welcome to the dark side.
Ha ha… But really – half of my entire wardrobe is black – and that’s actually an improvement for me.

I have various sections on the side of my wardrobe which are used to hold my hair tools, PJs, trackies, jeans, trousers & shorts. I’ve decided to move my shorts section to the top cube because, well… Summer lasted about 10 seconds here in England. Let’s be real.

I’m so happy to be wearing long sleeve knits and jeans every day – regardless of the fact that it’s still supposed to be “summer” here – as I’m a winter baby at heart.
I can’t wait for the days where it’s cold enough to sit in front of the fire, wear scarves and jumpers and drink hot chocolates with marshmallows… I really am cliché, aren’t I?

And here we have The Pile.

I’m off to wash all of these clothes and make sure that they’re dry before donating them to charity tomorrow. I think I’ve removed 30% of my wardrobe today, and I can’t even begin to describe to you how refreshing it is to finally have space again in my wardrobe.

Now that my environment is organised and clean again, so is my mind.

Who else feels like this?
Have you done your own clear out recently?

Love always,
Danielle. x

Thoughts

Ride The Wave

Hey lovely!
So… I got a new tattoo.

And just like a wave, always remember
Things must rise and crash before they get better
You can’t have smooth sailing
Without experiencing a few bumps along the way
Ride the wave out
and always remember
that this feeling doesn’t last forever.

I’ve wanted to get this tattoo for such a long time now, and I absolutely love it.
I went to Inka in Kemp Town to get this done, and it took less than 10 seconds.
You can watch my vlog from when I got my tattoo done here.

Do you have any significant tattoos on your body? I’d love to know in the comments!

Love always,
Danielle. x

Thoughts

Alone

“You never realise how lonely you are until it’s the end of the day and you have a bunch of things to talk about and no one to tell them to.”

Hi.
It’s 10:18pm and I can’t even think about attempting to sleep with all of these thoughts rushing around in my mind.

It’s always okay during the day. Well, mostly.
There are those days where I can’t get out of bed all day. The days where I am so numb inside that I don’t even know if I’m alive anymore.

I want to live. I want to laugh so much that I cry. I want to feel adrenaline pumping through my veins. I want to feel what it’s like be with someone who genuinely loves you for you. I want to wake up one day, 10 years from now, next to my husband and having our kids jumping on our bed before we all make pancakes in our pyjamas and spend the weekend watching films together.

I want to love someone. I want to do so many things, but I can’t.
I’m trapped in between these four walls, in a new unknown place.
I don’t know anyone here.
I reach out to people. They say they’re busy. I reach out again. They cancel.
I tried to let my walls down for someone. They used me and left.

I’m trying so hard. So hard that my eyes are stinging as I write this.
I’m sick of crying.
I keep hearing people say they’ll be around if you need them… But when you do need them, where are they?

I get up. I put my hair into a ponytail and I wash my face.
I put on a nice jumper and some jeans.
I spray some perfume onto my wrists.
I work. I scroll through my phone. I work.
The hours pass, I get back in to my pyjamas, the perfume lingers on my wrists like a constant reminder that no one else has smelt it all day.

It’s Saturday. The last time I was around someone was on Monday.
“No one cares that you’re here” circles around in my head like a song on repeat.
I begin to believe the things I hear, as they are the only things that I’ve heard all day.
Maybe I am the things that those people keep telling me.
Maybe I am unlovable. Maybe I am disgusting. Maybe I’ll always be alone.

I am lost.

I spend my days applying my social media mask onto my face and making other people happy.
“Go out and join a club!” They say. “Go to cafés and meet people!”
When your mind is isolated to the point of believing that there is simply something wrong with you because of the way your life currently is, you don’t even want to go out to meet people, because you feel like they will take one look at you and see you as all the twisted things your head tells you that you are.

Swallowing the lump of anxiety in my throat, I apply my makeup, brush my hair and walk outside.
I walk to the café and I sit there alone.
Everything in my body is telling me to run. Leave. This is pointless. This is embarrassing. Everyone here knows you’re alone. Everyone thinks you’re weird. Leave. Now.

I push through it. I order my tea, making sure I give a friendly smile to the waitress.
She doesn’t make eye contact with me as she writes on her notepad and swiftly moves on to the next customer.

Don’t look at your phone. Don’t look anti-social. Look open. Look friendly.
God, this is so hard. How come people never talk about how hard it is to make friends and meet people when you’re an adult?

I drink the tea. My hands are trembling at this point.
The tea spills onto my hands, burning me. I try not to make any noise so that no one stares.
My hands have turned bright red. The physical pain joins the party with the emotional, and it all becomes too much. I silently get up, leaving the tea behind, and I swiftly walk out of the café.

I’m back in my room. Scrolling. Scrolling. Scrolling.
I compare myself to a girl on instagram with big boobs and a tiny stomach. I decide to get up and eat some chocolate. That’ll make me feel better. Before I know it, the wrapper is empty, and I feel worse than I did before I started eating it.

I don’t know what to do.

I speak to the friendly strangers online. They tell me I’m beautiful and that they love me. I read their comments as though they’re speaking about someone else, because how could someone think that about me? It doesn’t make sense.
My brain replays the memories of the only person I ever loved, to provide me with a sense of company. I re-live all the moments when I was blissfully happy, I remember all the times I looked into your eyes and felt like I was truly alive.

And then I wake up.

I hear the birds outside. I remember the sounds the wood pigeons made when I would ride my bike to school every day when I was 10. I remember coming home to see my Mum had a cup of tea and a few biscuits waiting for me on the kitchen counter. She asks me how my day was, she plays with my hair and I feel completely safe. I’d put my coat on, walk outside to our chicken coop, and look up at the sky.
This was my home. This is where all my friends were. This is where I belonged.

It was now a few days after my 12th birthday. I remember the smell of fish fingers heating up in the oven as my parents sat me and my brother down and told us we were leaving England to move to Australia for Dad’s work. I remember the first time I experienced depression. I remember actively choosing not to speak to my parents or answer them back when they spoke to me. I remember crying into my Auntie’s arms as I was telling her about how much I wanted to stay. This is my home. I don’t want to leave.

High school is a blur.
A blur of being thrown into lockers, being told I wasn’t good enough.
She’s a freak. She dresses like such a weirdo. I literally don’t understand a word she says when she speaks.

I found myself standing in front of the mirror every night. Repeating the words. Forcing myself to have an accent like the girls at school.

It’s now 10 years later.
I spread my wings, I trusted my gut, and I flew back to my home.

But is your home a place, or is it the people that make it a home?
Something I’m yet to understand.

Welcome to my mind. A place even I can’t understand.

I can’t wait for the day that this all starts to make sense.
I hope that day arrives soon.

Love always,
Danielle.

PS: I’m meeting about 4 new people in the upcoming weeks which should be really lovely. This whole experience is without a doubt the hardest thing I’ve ever been through, and it is a really nice feeling to type it all out there into the open. Although I cried about 5 times whilst writing this, I’m glad that I did.

PPS: If you are the boy who is still checking up on me after you screwed me over and screwed up my head into this dark place, close this page and stop. You’ll never understand what you did to me.

PPPS: Boys are overrated. Pugs are forever.

Beauty

PR Delivery: Mecca Max

Hey lovely!
It’s a rainy Friday in Brighton today, and seeing a man standing at my door with a massive box from Mecca Maxima brightened my day instantly.

I was absolutely thrilled to see that Mecca Maxima had decided to send me their new Mecca Max range. I’ve always adored Mecca, and I’m so happy that they are continuing to keep me in the loop with their product launches even without me living in Australia anymore. It really means so much. They’re such an awesome company, and we’ve had many fun times together. I think my meet up with Mecca last year in Melbourne Central has been my highlight!

Mecca Max is a brand new range from Mecca Maxima and it launches on August 1st.

Below is an overview of the range:

The Mecca Max Bring On Bright Illuminating Primer

The Mecca Max Auto Matte Lip Mattifyer

The Mecca Max City Slicker Tinted Oil

The Mecca Max Gloss Boss Lip Gloss

I absolutely love the product name! Swatching this lip gloss showed that it’s very light and natural.

The Mecca Max Pout Pop Lipstick in Freedom Fighter (red) and Party Police (nude)

I found the packaging design of this lipstick incredibly interesting. I think Mecca have done an amazing job with their packaging for this range – it’s new, it’s exciting, and I’ve not seen anything like it. I love the pop-out mechanism for the lipsticks – very cute. The lipsticks swatched super creamy and light onto my skin.

The Mecca Max A-Lipster Liquid Lipstick in Skinny Latte (brown) & Killer Instinct (pink)

Upon removing these liquid lipsticks from their boxes, I was surprised by their packaging. I don’t believe I own any liquid lipsticks that have completely opaque packaging, as it can make it hard to know what colour it is on first glance. Luckily however, the name of the lipsticks as well as the colour is highlighted on the top of the packaging, which I actually think is incredibly smart for those who store their lipsticks upright, and can clearly see what colour it is from the top view.

I also love the name A-Lipster for this range.

The Mecca Max Eye Max Power Couple Mascara

This mascara has me all kinds of excited. As soon as I noticed there was a wand on each end, for their different purposes, I instantly fell in love. No more having to use 2 different mascaras for my top and bottom lashes? Yes please!

The Mecca Max Shimmer Shot Highlighting Wand in Pearl

Like so many of the other products – I don’t have anything like this. I’m very excited to see how the wand works for my face.

The Mecca Max Beauty Bullet Blender Sphere

The Mecca Max Banana Bake Filter Powder

Okay. Anyone who knows me well, knows that discovering a banana powder product was in the range made me so happy. I use banana powders religiously, and as I’ve recently run out of my much-loved Nars Beach Pressed Powder, I’m very excited to try this one out!

The Mecca Max Skin Halo Diamond Dust

The Mecca Max Chic Cheek Blush

The Mecca Max Sunlit Skin Bronzer

The Mecca Max Eyephoria Vivid Impact Eye Palette

I have a confession to make. I admit it, I judged this palette before I swatched it. I had my doubts about the pigmentation of this palette, as the colours looked basic upon first glance.

And then I swatched it…

I was speechless. Mecca just did that.

These eyeshadows are so pigmented and so beautiful, and I am in absolute shock of how much it exceeded my expectations.
As soon as I swatched the first white shade on the left of the palette, I knew I was in for a good time. I am already so obsessed with this palette, and I can’t wait to create a fun look with these eyeshadows.

Would you be interested to see me film a video using these products? Let me know in the comments below!

Love always,
Danielle. x

Beauty

PR Delivery: Too Faced

Hey lovely!
It always seems to be the moment I’m getting dressed that the doorbell goes off. Always. Anyone else?!

I quickly threw an oversized shirt on and opened the door to see a man standing there with a very lovely looking Too Faced delivery.
Beans is always as curious as I am to see what’s inside, and I was thrilled to find that Too Faced had sent their hangover range to me!

The PR package included their Too Faced Hangover Primer, Too Faced Setting Powder & Too Faced Hangover Primer + Setting Spray.
(You can click the links to go straight to the product page!)

If I had to pick my personal favourite from the bunch, it would be the Too Faced Hangover Primer as it has always been an absolute holy grail product for me.
This primer makes your skin feel so soft and so hydrated, and I really don’t have a single bad thing to say about it.

In the box, there was also the Too Faced Hangover Primer + Setting Spray which I’ve only recently tried myself.
I used this spray for the first time during my recent First Impressions video and I was extremely surprised when the spray created droplets of water onto my face, as opposed to a setting spray like my Urban Decay All Nighter Setting Spray which is more of a fine mist. It’s definitely something that’s going to have to take getting used to, but I may use this product as a primer only for now.

Last but not least is the Too Faced Setting Powder which I am SO excited to try out! I’ve heard wonderful things about this powder and I can’t wait to see how I feel about it.
If it’s anything like their other Born This Way range, I’m sure it will be incredible.

Love always,
Danielle. x

Thoughts

Clean Slate

Hey lovely!
Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?

My life has recently been flipped upside-down (quite literally) as I now live on the other side of the planet… Once again.
For those who are unaware, I was born and raised in England, and I moved to Australia when I was 12. When I lived in Australia, I always felt as though I belonged to another place. Every time I would visit England on “holiday” over the past 10 years, I would be completely overwhelmed by how much more it felt like home to me than Australia.
Long story short, I decided to follow my gut. I gave away 95% of everything that I owned, packed 3 suitcases filled to the brim, and flew across the world.

It’s been an incredibly challenging, eye-opening and interesting adventure to move to another country completely on your own.
It teaches you more about yourself than you’ve ever known, because at the end of the day, you’re all you’ve got.

I took my gorgeous little pug, Beans (you can click here to see her cute little face), along to the UK with me. There was no way I was ever going to leave her behind.
I turned a blind eye to the incredibly high price tag to transport her over, because her being here is the most important thing to me.
As long as she was on this journey with me, that’s all that mattered.

It’s almost been 2 months since the big move, and I think that I have experienced every single human emotion within those few weeks… I’ve had my bad days, my fantastic days, my crying-into-my-pillow-days, and my crying from laughing too hard days. It’s definitely been a rollercoaster of emotion, but it has also taught me so many things.

Not knowing anyone around me, I have a lot of alone time these days. I’d love to use that alone time by being creative through writing, taking photos and recording videos, and that’s where the re-birth of this blog came from.

I hope you’re looking forward to all of my blog posts that are to come, and I promise to you – I will blog as much as my fingertips allow me too this time!

Love always,
Danielle. x