Sports Illustrated...

Oh dear, it's definitely been 2 weeks since my last post, sorry about that. Turns out juggling uni, a job, work experience, a social life and writing a blog is not as easy as I initially anticipated...never mind. I've made sure this one was worth the wait by including photos, and not just any photos, I'm talking themed photo shoot. Oh yes.

So, where was I? Oh yes, the sweaty Reebok Classics. Well, after trawling around 7 Sheffield chazzys I ended up on the Moor in British Heart Foundation, and lo and behold found the sneaks of my dreams. Ha. As I walked in the door, I laid my eyes on a sensational pair of white and pink Puma's. I thought to myself 'my god, those Puma's better be a size 7', and alas, they were. Despite making me look very 'year-9-P.E-let's-all-do-the-bleep-test', they're not all that bad. They look and smell quite fresh (lovely), and served me pretty well on my run. That's right, I kept my promise and went for a run. In fact I've been for a few in the last 2 weeks - maybe these new/old trainers have given me a new lease of life. Woo.

I think I've reached a conclusion as to why, when it comes to trainers, people hate to donate. Not everyone has as low standards as I do in terms of wearing people's old clothes, and to be honest I've been surprised by the high standards the chazzys have been maintaining; everything looks pretty new. Unlike with heels and other shoes, which have a high wardrobe turn over rate, trainers only really get bought when the old ones are knackered beyond chazzy retail standards. Apart from the fresh dunks (ha) that wiggas are always buying, but thats more of a collection ting (HA) and I doubt I'll be seeing any Nike hi-tops in Bluebell Wood Hospice any time soon. Shame.

So anyway, moving on from that interesting insight into the lifecycle of trainers (...), here's a little sports-themed photoshoot for you to feast your eyes on. Please be assured that I have taken part in none of the following activities in the recent past; these outfits have been constructed purely for your enjoyment. And please do not laugh, as you can see I take this modelling game very seriously... This shoot took me and Katie all of 15 minutes. Maybe 10.

They call me the white venus williams (yes that is a tennis ball not an orange) Tshirt, £1 - Pounds for Pounds Vintage Fashion Fair, Sheffield; black vest dress, £1.25 - British heart foundation, Sheffield; trainers, £4 - British Heart Foundation, Sheffield.

Just watch out for the guns. They'll get you. Nike vest, £1 - Cancer Research, Sheffield; Adidas shorts, £2.99 - Oxfam, Sheffield.

Jogging on the spot - looking like a lunatic and going nowhere. I know this all too well. Tshirt, £1 - Cancer Research, Sheffield.

Casually reflecting on the intense work out that has just taken place. Adidas hoodie, £4 - Age Concern, York.

Erm,  just hanging in the hood. Jenny from the block and all that. Knicks dress (used to be a tshirt), £2 - Cancer Research, Sheffield.

So there you have it. Some lovely sunny pictures of me in sportswear that I never wear. To prove that you can work out in chazzy clothes and still look cool. Very cool.

Peaches x

Itchy feet...

It's been nearly 3 weeks since the start of the sober-charity-lent-adventure, and I have soundly thus far managed without a pair of trainers. Due to the incredible lack of exercise that occurs in my every day life, I've been putting them to the back of my mind, focusing on finding more important things, like jewellery, heels, tweed hats, and other such necessities (...). However, having decided that I am now bored of my cross trainer, which I bought 4 weeks ago and have used twice, I think I want to take to the streets and start running. Much as I am willing to try, I don't think its practical to run around Sheffield wearing Chelsea boots (apart from when pissed) (which I never am anymore) (boring). Therefore my hunt for trainers has begun. I did toy with the idea of using my own, seeing as I didn't buy them, I found them in lost property at school (some year 9 boy is gutted). I was about to say also that wearing second hand (or foot) trainers is gross, but in light of what I've just admitted about the ones I already own, I'll skip over that point. So, no exceptions. I have been keeping my eye out for some sneaks for the past week, and I thought that being a size 7 I would double my chances, as I fall into both the female and the male bracket (in shoe terms only), but no such luck. Why are people so reluctant to give up their trainers? I thought cool kids got new ones every few weeks? While I am quite enjoying this excuse for doing no exercise, I am getting frustrated by my own inability to succeed in this leg of my challenge. I WILL have gone running at least once by the end of this week, mark my words! (passionate) I am going to have to cast my chazzy net a bit further out of town I feel, fully rinse Sheffield before I move my search to York. The effort involved in obtaining someone's sweaty old Reebok Classics. Jesus.

Peach x

Charity's next top model...

So, it's been a wee while since my last post, sorry about that! I've been hiding in a cloud of insane busyness but alas, I've emerged out the other end with numerous tales of challenges (material and alcoholic), temptation (ditto), great successes but also debatable failures. Let's start from the beginning...

Last weekend was my first attempt of going 'out' without normal clothes or normal beverages (i.e. alcohol based) due to it being our Katie's birthday. Due to a lack of heels at this point, I had to whack out the old Chelsea boots yet again, also the standard denim shorts, so to be fair I didn't really look all that different from every other day apart from the fact that I was wearing some blousy shirt thing. Radical. To be honest the bigger challenge was pretending that tap water was wine and slimline tonic was a mojito. But, as I said to Katie when I apologised for not being able to celebrate with a glass of champagne, I'm certain that when it was St. Paul's birthday while Jesus was in the desert, he had to toast with a glass of Shloer, therefore, that is what I must do. Even though Shloer wasn't invented back then, his intentions would have been the same.

So, temptation. In material terms, this has actually only occurred once which has come as a great surprise to me. Well not really because I've been purposely avoiding eye contact with shop windows (apart from chazzys), but I've not even yearned for any of my old clothes, which does make me doubt my own taste but never mind. The item in question was, funnily enough, a second hand dress in Cow, but as I have (unfortunately) outlined in the rules, second hand does not equal charity.

Over the past week or so I've taken part in not one, not two, but three little modelling jobbys (CNTM), all favours might I add, I'm along way from getting paid for such activity. But this is where the debatable failure comes in. For the first one I had to wear my own heels (uh oh) and a dress that I'm pretty sure wasn't a charity purchase. Does this mean I've broken my lent? I don't think so, as I said to Ella when she challenged me on the origins of my garments, I'm sure that if Jesus (yes him again) was doing a fashion show in the desert and the Virgin Mary made him a loin cloth to wear, God wouldn't mind. Because he didn't pay for it, didn't get to keep it, and didn't get paid to wear it. And neither did I. Case dismissed.

The second one was a minor photo shoot around 3 vintage shops in Sheffield in which I partook as a favour to Callum to contribute to the fashion section of his new magazine (I would tell you to go out and read it but I don't know when its out. Or what it's called in fact). This was where the aforementioned dress-temptation occurred, and again the clothes I was wearing were not chazzy spectaculars, but I'm fighting my case that because I was doing it as a favour, wore them for about 5 minutes, and didn't feel guilty, therefore I am pleading not guilty.

The third modelling stint (which I have just got back from) leads me nicely into successes because, lo and behold, all the clothes were legit charity items, donated by the kind people of Sheffield and sold to raise money for Mencap and Barnardo's. Winning! (yes Charlie Sheen). The charity event was organised by our Elisse and her fellow event management girls, and was an absolute sensation, because they raised about £1000. Proud as punch. I was especially pleased because I managed to purchase 3 pairs of heels (2 of which were donated by Elisse. May as well of just taken them out of her wardrobe), some boots, a belt, a t-shirt, a bag for uni, a fur collard coat, 3 bangles (yesssss), a gold chain necklace (yesssssss), blue jeggins, black leggins, and a vintage looking dish thing. Not bad for £15! My best chazzy haul yet. As you can see I'm bloody psyched about having jewellery, as I've been abstaining from wearing any since this started. I'm also incredibly thrilled with the heels because now I've got no excuse not to look ready and raring to go on my next BNO, even if I will just be sipping on a Shirley Temple.

Peace x

Photographic evidence!

Yes, me again, I know it's been less than 24 hours since my last post, but seeing as a left all you avid readers (ha) hanging for a whole week, I thought I'd treat you to another one right away. STAT. And this one's even more exciting because it's got photographic evidence, oh yes siree.

I decided that as the sun's out for once, I'd grab my threads and head out into the garden with Elisse and her sensational camera and have a little photo sesh, just to give you a sample of some of my concoctions and prove that I don't really look like a hobo, just a bit fashionically confused (definitely not a word. But not as bad as chazzy). I feel like I've given even more back to the community today, as numerous passers by got an eyeful during my outfit changes, lucky them. I say passers by, they were actually people walking right through the garden as the general public seem to use it as an acceptable short cut. Maybe the sight of me struggling in and out of second hand menswear was just too enticing to resist trespassing on my land. Tight.

So anyway here they are...I'll tell you where the things were from and how much they were, just incase you want to buy them. Except you can't. Because I already have. Roll VT...

This is actually what I'm wearing today. Brogues (£6) Bluebell Wood Hospice shop, Sheffield; jacket (£2.50) Cancer Research, Sheffield; bag (£2), scarf (£1) and jumper (£4) Samaritans shop, Sheffield; shorts (were jeans) (£5) Cancer Research, Edinburgh.



Top (yes it is covered in gold hats) (£3.99) and bag (£2.99) Bluebell Wood, Sheffield.



Made a nice little urban turban out of the scarf from before. Ha. Tshirt (£1) and cardigan (£3) Cancer Research, Sheffield; skirt (£4) Cancer Research, Edinburgh.



Oh look at me I'm so weary of all this posing. Scarf (£4) Oxfam, Edinburgh; top (£2.99) Oxfam, Sheffield; Belt (£1.50) and chelsea boots (£15) Cancer Research, Edinburgh; shorts (jeans) Bluebell Wood, Sheffield.



Well dressed country gentleman vibe... tweed hat (£4) Bluebell Wood, Sheffield; wax jacket (£7.50) Cancer Research, Edinburgh.

Debated whether or not to put this one in as I look like a massive tool but never mind, I'm doing it for the kids. Tshirt (£2) Oxfam, Edinburgh.

Hmm...casual. Bag (£3.99) Bluebell Wood, Sheffield; polka dot shirt thing (£2.99) Oxfam, Sheffield. (black boob tube is made out of a pair of tights) (yes that is allowed).

This is a bit homeless I'll admit. Parka (£5) Oxfam, Sheffield.

Enthusiastic. Jumper (£4) Cancer Research, Sheffield.

Foraging.

Rummaging.

As you can see, I'm putting the tights rule to good use, i.e. wearing them with every single outfit. This avoidance of trousers is mainly due to the fact that walking into Oxfam and asking if they do a 36" leg is not likely to have a high success rate, and it's all too easy to make denim shorts. Having said that, I have purchased a pair of blue velvet flares that I am relutcant to chop up, so watch this space because I may have a change of heart...

Peace x

Nice handbag...

So, I've been wondering the desert of second-hand stitches for a week now, and to be completely honest  I'm finding my thirst for normal clothes very easy to control (my thirst for gin, however, is less so). I'm actually finding this charity shop rummaging pretty addictive- there's something very rewarding about flicking through rails of crap and finding the odd sensational item, which is not really something you experience when you walk into Topshop and everything is shiny and brilliant. Shopping has become more of an exciting challenge, where I strangely feel like I've earned the privilege of owning someone's old clothes (lucky me), weird. I'd like to point out, which I forgot to mention in my little intro last week, that I'm not undertaking this experiment in order to boycott Topshop, or any other high street shops, or mass produced clothes in general, because I have a lot to thank them for and, although I look a bit like one right now, I'm not really a boring sober hippy. Maybe I will be in 33 days, who knows.

Before last Wednesday slash the start of lent, I'd only managed to scrape together some basics for my new wardrobe from a few chazzys in Edinburgh (is that word going to catch on?), but definitely forgot a few essentials... Went to uni on Thursday and realised that I hadn't yet thought to buy a handbag, and I must say I was tempted to just whack the old folder in my second-hand-looking-but-really-from-new-look carpet bag, knowing full well that no one would notice (or probably care) but, alas, my superior moral compass kicked in and I made the informed decision (well I didn't really have much choice) to use a carrier bag. Obviously, this isn't such an outrageous sacrifice like 'oh emm geee she had to use a carrier bag she may as well just be naked', but when its blatantly being used as a handbag because your phone starts ringing at the bottom of it, that's when it gets a bit embarrassing. To top it off, it was an Oxfam carrier bag as well, just to get the message accross to everyone who saw me that I MUST BE A GOOD PERSON BECAUSE I SHOP AT OXFAM. Either that or the message that I might be homeless, if it weren't for my house keys hanging out the bottom of the carrier.

Sorry about the lack of photos so far, I promise to provide some good ones as soon as I find someone who can stand my musty aroma for long enough to have a cheeky little photo shoot.

Peace xxx

Hello Charity Garms...

So this is the thing... despite being incredibly not religious, I've decided to take lent very seriously this year. Firstly, I've given up drinking. For people who don't drink, this isn't a big deal, but I've realised that everyone that I know drinks an awful lot therefore listen up kids. One of the reasons for this was because of money, as in, I'm running out pretty rapidly, and as nights out (and nights in actually) are probably where most of it is being drained I thought lent would be a good excuse to not waste every penny that I earn. Having decided this, I then had an epiphany of selflessness, and thought it would be a nice idea to give some of the money I'd be saving to charity. Because that's what Jesus would do. But then my wave of selflessness passed and I thought of an even better idea, which would benefit me as well as being charitable - spend it on clothes from charity shops. See? Clever. Then just to be difficult I decided to make it into a challenge, so that for the whole of lent, all 40 days and 40 nights of it, I am only allowed to wear clothes from charity shops.

The rules are as follows...
1) I am not allowed to wear, at any time, anything that I already own APART FROM underwear and tights. Call me a cheater, but I think the crotch proximity is far to close to share tights and pants, and as for bras well I don't think the 38 double G maximum support jobbys are quite my size. Oh, and I am allowed to wear my work shirt, because dedicated as I am to this mission, I don't want to jeopardise my career (as a bar maid. hmm.)
2) Vintage shops DO NOT count as charity shops, just because the clothes are second hand, it defeats the purpose of the exercise (unfortunately).
3) Clothes for all occasions must be considered, including gym clothes (for all those hours I spend in there...), work clothes (aside from the aforementioned shirt), pyjamas (yes), night out clothes (this is an important one, as I won't be able to get so drunk that I don't care what I look like) and everything in between.

So wish me luck, I am already on day three but due do my technical retardation only managed to set up the blog now so consider this my introduction and I'll continue to update you on the ins and outs of my endeavors...


Peace x