Thursday 27 February 2014

Review Time: Hair Products

Although the fact might not automatically click with you like a switched-on light bulb, I, LikeATeen, am utterly OBSESSED with my hair and it is the key to securing my happiness, generating a more ecstatic buzz than a slice of homemade lemon cheesecake ever will (sorry, Mary Berry!).

From the very fateful day that my on-going battle against the batter-inspired grease began several years ago, I partly dedicate my energy towards searching for products which not only keep my hair under control (and as oil-free as you could expect from deep fat fryer), but revolutionizes my style to a certain extent. Who ever said that you had to stop having fun with your hair during the oh-so-tedious teenage years? 

As with 99.9% of the whole planet's population, there are certain things which I love with an undeniable passion, but wouldn't I be placed in the same boat as the seemingly perfect Hollywood stars by failing to complain about my small bugbears from time to time? Sure, I may not intend to bore yourself with moaning about so-called 'problems' which could be viewed as heavenly gift in a few peoples' eyes - whether we choose to face the truth or not, all of us will always hear a negative voice which declares that our arms are as wide as a bucket of KFC chicken wings or the hairs which we believed had been waxed never truly disappeared (sometimes, seeing is believing if an army of stubby hairs are on the prowl!) - but I would probably have to be one in a million to avoid being prone to periods of sadness over having a body which isn't quite how I WISH it could be.

Over the years, I've lost count (as the maths-detesting fool I am at heart) over the amount of times that I've prayed to a glittering star outside of my window and gritted my teeth against yet another spell of greasy locks placing a miserable damper on my happiness, taking one aspect of my body which I always loved out of my hands and into the unknown. It quickly became clear that if I were to win back what was rightfully mine, trialing several of the thousands of self-praising 'amazing' products aimed at greasy locks and beyond on the hair market was in order - regardless of whether the results were what I'd wanted or not! 

As you will read later, I finally found my hair equivalent of Prince Charming from an unexpected source and, despite being obliged to wash it every two days (in total, my royalty-treated mane receives three-to-four washes per week, so you needn't place a horrible image of the blocked plughole into your mind), I'm definitely more confident about my locks than I did several years ago! Please bear in mind that you must follow the guidelines for your hair type because everybody, as I probably have been declaring a little too much recently, is different - the rule applies for virtually everything! 

So, take this advice from a teenager whose hair is miles straighter than Justin Bieber's criminal record and now reaches below the shoulder, despite being cut into a razor-short bob in the past. Although you would initially my hair to get rather thin due to the relatively long length, I'm either struggling to see without my glasses or it is true - my hair looks thicker than I can remember it, and these words are coming from somebody who spends twenty minutes or so gazing at her glossy, just-washed mane almost every night! 

Alright, alright, I'll stop bragging about how fabulous (well, the word is rather fitting) my hair looks and get down to business: which products do and do not help greasy hair? Let's find out!

Alberto Balsam Juicy Green Apple Herbal Shampoo, 400ml, £1, Asda
Before I even begin, there is an ever-loudening stampede trooping outside of my bedroom, shrieking at the unbelievably cheap price at this shampoo, which I swear by! 
Although the price might raise a few overplucked eyebrows as to whether the quality is any less than a more expensive shampoo, let me clarify (as clearly as one can whilst immersed in an apple-scented haze) a few things: first of all, Alberto Balsam - a brand of which is pretty much sold in every supermarket and cosmetics store throughout England - uses herbals in their shampoos (I use 'their' because I cannot truly imagine that one single man created the whole operation) . OK, I'll admit that I find it pretty difficult to make out which herbals are used in the shampoos because reading the list of ingredients is as boring as translating a page of Latin, but who honestly cares if your hair becomes bouncier than a Premier League football within a single wash?
At first, I was hesitant against trialing the shampoo - the time of which took place over a year ago, shortly after Alberto Balsam began their takeover at the local supermarket - because my hair was in a pretty fragile state, what with the bucket loads of measly-looking grease and lank appearance taking its toll. However, my inner bargainista couldn't resist giving this shampoo a go because I realized that a wave of money-related guilt would knock me off my feet if the need to chuck the bottle away arose - thankfully, I never reached that situation!
Within weeks, I noticed a remarkable difference with my hair staying fresher and looking cleaner for longer, which became somewhat of a life-changing revolution because I had grown sick of applying a squirt of Johnsons Baby Shampoo (despite being as simple as a cast member of The Only Way of Essex, it offered no solution to decreasing my endless supply of oil) every few days and frowning at the confidence-destroying sight of a greasy lock several hours after washing it thoroughly. Happiness, without a doubt, found its way into my life as soon as I began using this shampoo and I haven't swapped it since because the once all-powerful need to do so has diminished like the career of a one hit wonder - why try something else if you have finally found what you have been looking for? 
In case you were wondering, the reason for which I chose the Juicy Apple scent is that the bottle recommended it for both normal and greasy hair, which isn't awfully easy to come across whilst searching for a standard bottle of shampoo. My dad has added another scent, one of which features the acne-improving ingredient known as tea tree oil (for once, it is a type of oil which you can safely use!), to his essential products and it works perfectly well for him, so I think that anyone could give the Alberto Balsam range a go. 
Sometimes, price doesn't offer a proper representation for quality and it is a lesson which I have learnt very well from this shampoo - as long as I continue to use it, I doubt that I'll ever complain about greasy locks again!

Bristows Hairspray, 300ml, £1, www.chemistdirect.co.uk
Without even placing you in a position to open your mouth, I do not use half a bottle or so of hairspray whenever the need calls for it, which is only on the occasions that I wish to tie my hair into a secure, polished ponytail - although I would question quite a few people about their hair-related habits!
For years, I've been familiar with Bristows because my mum used to have a massive, semi-die hard penchant for the brand, but I wish to clarify that she has since cut down on her use of this well-known hairspray; nowadays, I am the one who uses the whole bottle! 
You are probably getting the idea that a £1 theme is beginning to form here, but this truly isn't the case; as my mum only buys this strong-hold hairspray very rarely, I'm always unsure as to how much it costs, though I'm pretty thrilled that I can always afford to get more of it! Despite probably not sharing such a large fanbase like the L'Oreal Elnett range, Bristows does its job just the way that I expect and a waft of loose hair has never once stuck to my face, regardless of the numerous storms and downpours of rain in which I've unfortunately found myself!
As with any other hairspray, only an idiot would fail to open a window or switch on the extraction (although I struggle to reach the button above the door, my wannabe 6ft supermodel spurs me to stretch beyond my usual expectations) whilst using it because the smell is definitely strong, but my wonderful readers are bursting with common sense, am I not correct? Only a couple of short sprays are necessary to cover the wanted areas, then you are ready to walk out of the house sharing a remarkable resemblance to the old-fashioned model on the bottle - or so I always hope! 
In my opinion, you can't really find a better hairspray than Bristows and the sight of it when I was a young child will undoubtedly remain with me through the whole of my life - at least I no longer receive a stern telling off for using Mum's special styling product!

Mason and Pearson Hairbrush
For those of you in the know, Mason and Pearson have long received critical acclaim for their outstanding collection of hair brushes, which stimulate the circulation in your hair and helps to achieve the natural glossiness which makes anybody turn green with envy.
As I received my brush on an occasion where my dad was rifling through a box of old stuff, I cannot give a price for the type which I own because I have absolutely no idea about the size in which it would be categorized - without a doubt, it definitely cost more than what one would pay for an average hairbrush!
Yet this is a special case where one truly pays for what they get, and I'm constantly using it on my hair (well, one has to find something useful to do during their lunch hour, especially as I'm educated at home) which would probably be nominated as the understatement of the century!
Within a single brush, my hair looks glossy, shiny and oh-so-thick, a word of which can only be viewed a positive when associated with hair - the thicker, the better, I say! My only complaint is that it isn't ideal for getting rid of those irritating knots I'm prone to getting whilst washing my longer-than-ever hair, but it's a small price to pay - or not, because it was handed down to me!

Aussie Mega Shampoo, 300ml, £4.69, Boots
Whilst embarking on my search for the Product of My Dreams several years ago, I took a chance by trialling this popular shampoo by no other than the Aussie brand, who has been long renowned for its usage of kangaroo paw flower (seriously, I've never been able to understand what kind of benefits it offers to one's hair).
At first, my hair seemed to improve drastically by developing a glossy shine which radiated like a pair of diamond earrings reflecting in a mirror - in fact, I was using a bottle which my mum had found whilst going through an old box of beauty products, and I had absolutely no complaints with it because my hair somehow appeared to working with the not only grease-controlling benefits of the shampoo, but receiving the volume which I had so long craved to have. Back then, I was all but desperate to achieve a volumized look as regularly featured in my inspirational fashion magazines - whatever I ever wanted in relation to my ever-so-precious hair, nothing would stand in my way of fulfilling my ambition!
Yet, as soon as I squirted the last of the sweet-flavoured shampoo from the old bottle, my hair-related destiny had practically been written in the stars: despite purchasing the same product, I never managed to successfully the exact results which I had achieved beforehand, placing me in a worryingly awkward position. Due to my lack of confidence regarding the problems which I was 99.9% prone to getting with fellow shampoos on the market, I felt somewhat obliged to continue using this shampoo, despite sighing à la the hair-stroking queen Bella Swan on a daily basis whenever I caught an unfortunate glimpse of my lifeless and duller-than-New Moon hair.
Even to this day, I still cannot find a logical explanation for which my dream come true with this Aussie shampoo morphed into a tedious nightmare literally overnight; frustratingly, it never occurred to me that keeping the original bottle was a clever idea, so I'll never find out whether Aussie changed the ingredients sometime in the future.
On a brighter note, my dad - yes, he is probably the one who ought to trial almost all of my hair-styling products because of his fondness for my shampoos - was bursting with praise for the Aussie brand because he truly believed that his short, thickish (in this case, it's a compliment, I promise!) hair looked healthier, although he hasn't noticed a slightest difference since swapping to the Alberto Balsam range several months ago.
Depending on the time in your life and obviously the type of your hair (when I was around twelve or thirteen, my hair was oiler than a serving of carrot cake; have you ever wondered why teenagers never like getting up in the morning?), not every single product guarantees the results which you seek and perhaps I'm not in a good position to complain about my unfortunate experience with the Aussie shampoo, especially as I've finally gained control over the production of my hormone-fuelled oil.
I've since learned that I should only choose shampoos which are specifically aimed towards greasy hair - if you've ever since this bottle, you'll quickly learn that the words 'oil' and 'grease' don't feature anywhere on it!

N.B. Considering that I appear to have an undying penchant for all things associated with shampoo, I truly don't need to use a conditioner to keep my hair moisturised. The reason why? Bearing in mind that I've been struggling against keeping my oil production to a relatively normal level since I hit puberty around five years ago (the early bird catches the worm, me thinks), adding the usage of a conditioner to my hair-cleansing routine would have secured the destruction of my plans to improve the appearance and health of my hair - regardless of what anybody or yourself may believe!
A larger-than-recommended squirt of shampoo more than does the trick for myself because it neatly covers what I could be missing out from a conditioner, and it is a practice which has always worked well; depending on what it is, some things are best unchanged! At this stage, I'm not interested in rocking the bottle because I've reached a point where my hair has settled down (as much as you would expect whilst tiny whiffs fly into the air like static) and adjusted to its stable cleansing routine, and as I'm placing my attention upon the damning dilemma of coping with spots, returning to my former grease-related issues is a thought which I needn't contemplate.
At long last, I feel proud about being blessed with my longish mane of chocolate brown and thicker-than-a-hardback-book hair!

Wednesday 26 February 2014

It's Fashion, Daaaaarling!

Shortly after creating Life as a Modern Teen whilst suffering from the troublesome perils of boredom on the evening of Halloween last year, I made somewhat of a resolution to myself that I would write about anything which was playing on my mind like an endless repeat of Harlem Shake, regardless of its subject or importance within society. So far, those of you who have generously taken some time to read a few of my articles will know that matters as bizarre as cocoa-related addiction to my dislike of social networks are bound to come up on here sooner or later, but today I feel like taking a step back to an era where only one thing meant the world to me: fashion. 

Exciting, fresh and as new as Beyonce's recently released album, immersing myself into the ever-changing world of fashion was a revelation in my eyes and I thoroughly enjoyed the time that I dedicated almost all of my Mars bar-based energy upon reading up on the latest trends, quickly making attempts to copy the styles which made my heart soar higher than the moon. 

I was only around eleven at the time that I began to take an interest into the catwalk and, of course, the beautiful clothes which were adorned by the 'inspirational' models, as termed by the artistic designers who produced a wonderful spectacle for the world to pour their attention over, so you can correctly picture myself glowing brighter than a just-installed lightbulb - where I live in England, I couldn't possibly be further away from the excitement surrounding a glamorously staged catwalk show, let alone be faced with the possibility of getting my hands upon a dress which only a Hollywood superstar would be capable of slipping into (with or without the aid of Spanx). And like 99.9% of all children, once I found something new to think about, I literally dropped everything else I was doing to dote my attention upon a classic Dolce & Gabbana dress; what else could have been more fun?

Despite never fulfilling my existing desire to splash out on a designer handbag (some passions die hard, don't you think?), keeping up with the trends on a budget which typically extended to an occasional spree at New Look or my now beloved H&M all but consumed my free time, but I never once complained about the long paths which I willingly followed to pick up a dress that even Coco Chanel herself would have been proud of having in her wardrobe. Whilst my brother gained more momentum with his hobby of collecting football cards (a habit of which has recently morphed into a collection of valuable comic books), fashion rapidly became my outlet for fun and it was the sight of neon crop tops and sunny patterns which kept my spirits stable during a dark, cloudy winter; in many ways, I relied upon the power of fashion in order to keep myself happy because it played a massive role of defining myself as a person whilst puberty gained an ever-stronger hold upon me. And although I have since waved goodbye to rolling my head back in uncontrollable laughter at the ghastly sight of a clown turning up at London Fashion Week (oops, stupid typing error; didn't I mean a wildly dressed model?), I still owe plenty of gratitude towards fashion preventing me from going insane when the maddening perils of adolescence issued a threat towards destroying all happiness that I ever wished to have. 

Exactly as I did many years ago with donning the immature shades of pink clothing from my wardrobe to ridding my drawers of Bratz dolls - deep inside yourself, you always know that the end of a delightful era has come when you decapitate a scantily-clad Bratz doll without crying buckets about the horrifying action - I gradually grew out of fashion, shifting my interests to a wider selection of hobbies and doing whatever I want in general. Unlike the plastic Barbies I chucked away years ago, there were no bittersweet farewells or pangs of sadness at finishing a remembered chapter in my life because my once all-powerful penchant for fashion has not died a painful death; to this day, I gain plenty of pleasure by simply pairing various jumpers (for I've always had the tendency to turn into a cool marble stone within seconds of being exposed to the cold) and trousers or skirts together, but clothes are definitely no longer the end- and be-all of the manner in which I express my unique sense of style. Whatever I place over my English rose-tinted skin isn't an automatic indicator of my style because make-up and jewellery matter a whole lot more to me since I've gotten older; in fact, I'm more likely to think about the coloured eyeliner or type of gold earrings I'll team with an outfit than basing everything else on one single piece of clothing. 

Like many things, age teaches you thousands of lessons which you don't even think twice about following every day, and the clothes and accessories I wear remain honest to the rule, particularly as my interests can flatuate on nearly a daily basis. Several years ago, a floaty, beige-coloured skirt ideal for wearing at the beach would have greatly interested me - despite having a secret passion for grunge-inspired pieces, almost nothing can pull me away from feminine and oh-so-girly styles - but nowadays I would far prefer to don a pair of dark denim shorts because they would be a practical addition to my wardrobe. Unlike everything else in the world, I really cannot have a proper opinion on clothes because I follow whatever my heart is telling me without questioning it; basically, if I like the sight of something, it doesn't matter in slightest whether it is associated with a certain style which may not necessarily be linked to my own. At the end of the day, I'm strongly against particular stereotypes because they only tend to offend and misjudge people, so I constantly bear my views in mind with everything - and there is no doubt as to fashion being included!

So, whenever I'm asked about what sort of trends and styles that I'm into, I find it oh-so-hard to muster an answer which the majority of people would understand. Since I broke free of following the fashion-conscious crowd as to what they would or not wear, the only person whom I've been following is none other than my trendsetting self, and I feel happier than ever relating to my on-going relationship with fashion. As with so many things which I'm bound to come across in life, the least of my wishes is to be placed into a categorized box for the whole population to judge upon. Wherever I go and whatever I do, there will always be things which I do and don't like, but I couldn't care less about other peoples' opinions because I'm only interested in staying true to my own. As long as I don't walk out of the door whilst looking like a complete wreck, my clothing of choice isn't highlighted as a massive problem! 

Regardless of how old I get (what a lovely thought!), I would probably have to disappear off the face of earth to avoid falling into the welcoming embrace of fashion because part of myself still squeals with delight whilst browsing occasionally on the Dior website. At this rate, the desire to drain my bank account in order to make my dream of purchasing a Louis Vuitton handbag a reality will never really go away, but I'm pretty much fine with that; getting a bargain in an online H&M is more than enough to produce a smile to lit up my face like a tropical-scented candle. I am who I am and I've made a pact to never fall prey to peer pressure or the wrong messages sent out by others - clothes represent a glorious part of myself, one of which is likely to last a lifetime.

And what can a fashionista say to that?

Sunday 23 February 2014

Sunday Playlist

Hey, as today is the very last day of this week-long half-term, I'm rather in the mood to keep it cool by disclosing my current favourite tracks to all of you - what could be better than listening to catchy songs on a sunny Sunday afternoon? Plus, I haven't really got much time to write a miniature essay on my penchant for eyeliners or the cons of wearing Converse as I'm particularly keen to soak up some Vitamin D in the sun later today, so adding some links to entertaining music videos (or ones featuring lyrics-only, as a couple of my heavily cherished tracks have unfortunately not been released as chart-topping singles) won't take up too much of my time or prevent me from conjuring some evil spells on my new Apartment Life PC-Rom. You'll know exactly what I mean once a green-skinned witch knocks on your door!

Basically, I've loved music from such an early age and can still remember bits and pieces of dancing to Kylie Minogue's best-selling hit Spinning Around when I was four or five, a memory of which causes my already blush-applied cheeks to turn a horrifying shade of red. Since then, I've thankfully grown out of party princess hits to a mixture of genres which expand from the 80s to this modern era, so you can pretty much declare that I'm not entirely loyal to simply one style of music; ideally, old-style dance and electronic-free pop are guaranteed to get me going (or as much as I possibly can whilst sitting on a creaky chair), though recently I have all but fallen in love with indie-style sounds because lyrics represent a high importance, as I strongly believe.

At one stage a few years ago, I toyed with the then-appealing idea of establishing myself as a songwriter after being inspired by my one-time favourite singer, Taylor Swift, for the duration of a very warm summer; perhaps the blistering heat played a large role with my holiday-long dream of producing so-called 'well-written' tracks, but I enjoyed myself nonetheless until I began to rip my songs into shreds several months later. Does a more embarrassing thing than an immature song exist on Earth or what? Anyway, I quickly realized that song-writing was not a potential job for myself and writing articles as I currently do is probably the best way that I can showcase my skills without becoming a red-faced victim of embarrassment!

Somewhere deep inside myself, music evokes so many unnamed emotions to swirl around like a cake mixture being stirred by a powerful Kitchenaid (if your cookery whizz mother owns what is the most critically acclaimed gadget on the market, you will surely know what I mean) and I'm transported to a place which seems a thousand miles away from my bedroom, swept away into the aromatic beat of a song which I instantly yearn to hear again as soon as the last lyric is sung. Regardless of the vocals, backing music or lyrics, I think that it's fair to say that these unleashed feelings never go away and it purely indicates what a fantastic song that you're listening to - and here I want to let you know which songs are my trustworthy pals during times of happiness, excitement, peace or a short-lived spell of the miserable teenage blues.

Helena Beat - Foster the People
One night whilst surfing on the free music-listening service, Spotify, I came across this dance-vibed track by accident. Well, I'm glad to say that finding Helena Beat by California-based band Foster the People - whom I hadn't even heard of until I listened to this song - was indeed a very happy accident because I've been struggling to get it out of my head since!
In my opinion, the music video makes a massive impact because it represents the ruins of war, but I was almost shocked out of my chair on the first occasion that I viewed it. Kids looking more badass than Arnold Schwarzenegger starring in an action-themed 80s film were definitely a memorable highlight, yet none of the bizarre scenes could distract me from the very catchy beat!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABzh6hTYpb8

Ribs - Lorde
If you were hoping that a song which perfectly described your rib-loving addiction had finally arrived on the music scene, I'm sorry to say that this is certainly not the case!
In as few words as possible, I absolutely love New Zealand singer-songwriter Lorde, who just scooped her very first BRIT award earlier this week - only at the age of seventeen! Without heading towards the dreaded cliché territory, Lorde somehow manages to describe exactly how a muddled teen like myself feels whilst producing a cooler-than-an-ice-cube vibe which truly inspires the inner-writer lying inside of me.
Although I have already picked out several songs from Lorde's debut Pure Heroine, Ribs definitely counts as one of my highlights because everything - the vocals, meaningful lyrics and indie-inspired vibes - is my idea of pure perfection because it conveys emotions which cannot be easily put into words. I just hope with all my heart that Lorde does us - and myself, of course - a favour by releasing Ribs as her next single because it deserves to hold the top spot on music charts across the world!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qaeoz_7cyE

National Anthem - Lana Del Rey 
Yet another singer-songwriter of whom I can never get enough!
Classy, stylish and elegantly-dressed, Lana Del Rey reminds me heavily of the darlings who captivated the world during the glamorous 60s, whilst seducing her audience with her deep, heavily powerful vocals which sizzle as hotly as a pan of bacon (you see, talking in a seductive manner is a skill which I've obviously failed to hone).
I owe Lana plenty of gratitude because listening to her album, Born to Die, was a sort of lifeline shortly after my cat, Tom, passed away almost a year ago, and humming along to Video Games almost every night gave me something to look forward to during a horrible time when grief, sadness and mascara-streaked tears were rife.
As I await excitedly for Lana to release her new album, the fascinatingly titled Ultraviolence, later this year (rumours suggest that it could be out around May), I will be returning to my favourite track, National Anthem, which describes an extravagantly-led taking a turn towards turmoil. If you thought that the song was great, a single view of the video - which was inspired by the Kennedy family and also set in the 60s - will blow your mind. Seriously.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sxDdEPED0h8

Green Garden - Laura Mvula
If you knew me inside out like a half-torn copy of Twilight, it wouldn't take you two seconds to realize that I have a strong admiration for soulful, powerful voices - and Laura Mvula has gained a place on my foot-long list of favourite singers, despite only breaking into the music industry little over a year ago.
It was this very song - the catchier-than-the-winter-flu Green Garden which, despite the title, isn't entirely set in a garden as green as my flu-fighting self in the video - which stole my attention and was the main reason for which I fell in love with the old-school sounds which Laura presented on her award-winning debut, Sing to the Moon.
Listening to Green Garden makes me want to do so many things - dance around the living room like I've lost all sense of sanity, place the largest smile to have ever existed on my face and appreciate how green my garden is before a seasonal drought sucks it dry of any colour. And hopefully you'll see what I mean once you listen to it, too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5akYnlwubDo

Rescue Me - Madonna
In comparison to the relatively new tracks I've included above, the 1990 hit single Rescue Me from pop queen Madonna seems like taking a trip back to the Stone Age, but I can reassure you that it is entirely worthy of a place on today's playlist!
Why I find myself singing along to powerfully sung lyrics for no reason, I'm still incapable of understanding it, yet this song was released during an era when dance music literally ruled the roost and was at its height of popularity, so I guess that it isn't much of a surprising that my pop-appreciating self instantly took to Rescue Me as though I had known it all of my life.
Besides, it makes a pleasant change to listen to a Madonna song without being faced with the prospect of a little-known rapper popping up half-way through, supposedly giving Madonna street cred in the 21st century. I just love to listen to a proper song and this one perfectly fits the bill.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uz6yxSe4iEI

Five songs, all of which represent so many things going on in my life. At the end of the day, all that I'm searching for is a catchy beat, perfect vocals and lyrics which artistically describe something in admirable manner. And the ones which I've listed here today are my ideas of musical heaven, so let's take a ride to YouTube - obviously the largest music video-watching website available - and remind ourselves about the true meaning hiding beneath the music.

If you listen.

Friday 21 February 2014

Getting Under the (Blemished) Skin of Teenagers

After years of being faced with discrimination, peculiar looks and remarks relating to my age, I've finally had enough. I've reached the end of my tether with negativity surrounding so-called 'troublesome' adolescents and the oh-so-frightful labels - many of which give the wrong impression to the general public - which are incorrectly tagged upon me, simply because I'm stuck in a sort of limbo between childhood and eventual adulthood. Sounds great, doesn't it?

First of all, I only turned fifteen around three weeks ago and so I'm rapidly nearing the time when exam mania will fall upon me, wrapping myself up into a world mainly focused on revising, expanding the storage space in my brain like a hard drive and experiencing harsh levels of guilt as to failing to chuck out my ancient Bratz pencil case years ago. Unlike what many are often led - or choose - to believe, I actually quite enjoy learning because it offers me the perfect outlet to showcase my skills and take one step further towards fulfilling my life-long dream of becoming a journalist or pursuing a career as a crime-fighting barrister, and I think that I'm correct in declaring that the majority of teenagers share similar views to my own.

A recent survey (as reported by i) has found that as many as a fourth of all teenagers are motivated to break into the jobs industry and work equally as hard as their older peers, many of whom only prefer to focus on the binge-drinking reports which truly misrepresent teenagers in a poor light. And, considering that teenagers have all but been the focus of media scrutiny since they came into their own back in the rocking 50s', is there a chance that this problem could ever change?

When I grabbed my hands upon the survey several days ago, a feeling of heartfelt pride, hope and relief flooded through my veins because I had given into my fears long ago that my generation - who, in my opinion, are more interested in improving their skills and strengthening views which would even make the Prime Minister waver in his shoes - would always been pushed aside to a lonely corner, destined to be forever criticized for committing petty crimes, causing a mini-riot during a rave and sending offensive messages to whomever we could think of on Facebook. Yes, there are those little-minded people who will continue to inflict pain upon people or create a mess which everybody else will have to clear up, but why should those teenagers be the misguided representatives of modern day teenagers?

Like adults, countless teenagers make tons of mistakes - most of which are unintended, if you've ever wondered why your daughter or son strolls around the house with the weight of the world on their shoulders after accidentally smashing your beloved mug to smithereens - but we try to make the most of it by learning from previous errors and eventually moving on, yet it is almost impossible to do so when the door is constantly slammed in front of our faces all the time. No words in my Collins dictionary can describe the embarrassment I unwillingly face whenever I walk into a cosmetics shop, for example, to purchase a lipstick for which I obviously intend to pay; out of the corner of my eye, I can tell that a security guard is boring his or her eyes in my back, a sensation of which unleashes the most uncomfortable feelings within me. As a few thoughtless youths decided against purchasing make-up legally, thousands of hard-working teenage girls and I are wrongful victims of discrimination which happens on a daily basis - and it should stop now. Age is purely a number and stereotypes clearly do not extend to every single person living on the planet - if I had any true intentions of stealing my favourite lipstick, would I have ever displayed an interest in abiding and studying Law?

Part of the dilemma surrounding teenagers and their million and one problems is that many adults - who, in case a short-term spell of amnesia has clouded their memory, used to be teenagers themselves - forget that adolescents can be so easily hurt by spiteful and negative remarks placed towards them on such an often basis. Until recently, almost everything I've read about teenagers has been written by adults who are purely led astray by numerous reports about modern day teens struggling to excel in school or other areas of life, as it appears that a constant round of adolescent-themed negativity goes on during each generation. Personally, I feel that I am mentally stronger to fight off these claims with a powerful strength than if I'd been placed in a similar position twenty or so years before; nowadays, your background no longer matters as long as you have a voice which is waiting to be heard. Has it ever occurred to you why thousands of people - both in the midst of adolescence and going through the life-changing years of adulthood - read blogs written by like-minded teenagers? Nobody cares about your age or even your gender as it may have been the case years ago because the words which flow through your fingertips matter the most, whilst also gaining a neat following of loyal readers who linger to lap up every single word like a pot of crème brûlée.

Since last autumn, I've been regularly posting entries onto my blog, Life as a Modern Teen, and have found out more about myself through the art of experimental writing. So far, I've discovered that social networking is a no-go network for me - unless New Zealand teen singer Lorde offered me a friend request, which I would accept within a heartbeat - and home schooling neatly suits the way I am, and I'm hoping to come across more subjects in the future as my opinions expand and age broadens my mind like a matured bottle of Waitrose-bought wine.

At the end of the day, the wishes waiting to be granted on top of my list include winning a struggling battle against spots, excelling in my chosen GCSE subjects (cue a disappointed frown at the fact of a journalism subject no longer existing) and leading a content life as a modern teenager without unrealistic stereotypes being thrown upon myself. As I've said before, I constantly make an effort to better myself and reach higher than I ever believed was possible to climb within reason - a trek upon Mount Kilimanjaro is not a possibility at the moment - but I'm more likely to receive a negative reaction from adults due to my age being somewhat of a barrier. And would you be surprised if the majority of teenagers agreed with me?

It's about time, now that we are well and truly in the flow of 2014, to destroy the barrier formed by the media and misinformed adults decades before Generation Y - a.k.a. the current legion of teenagers of which I'm a fully-fledged member - were even born.

And I, for one, am glad to be saying goodbye to it.


Wednesday 19 February 2014

Getting to Know the Modern Teen

If only such a feature like waving my hand wildly was available to post here (depending on whether I, the self-titled ICT queen, have the ability to upload a particular shot on my blog) because there isn't a better way to get a freshly-written post to a brighter and more optimistic start than displaying one of my polite gestures. Well, I have made the message crystal-clear about my unique personality, have I not? Well, read on if you feel the undeniable urge to find out about today's theme.

Bearing in mind that I've been the voice of a modern teen since creating this blog back in late October - or the night of spook-tastic Halloween, if my still-vivid memories of the sugar-free day are correct - I don't think that I've offered you a strong insight into who I am as a person, including my interests, specific views and lifestyle.

No, no, no, I'm more of a person who prefers to shun the spotlight if placed upon my red-faced self because I instantly feel awkward and grimace as clumsily as Kristen Stewart managed to sigh her way through the entire Twilight Saga films, but being able to write in the comfort of my bedroom and Yankee Candle-scented home gives me a cake-shaped slice of confidence which encourages me to break away from my natural timidness and allow my voice to be heard for a little while.

So, please don't threaten to exit your web browser on the basis that I'm on the verge of bragging about my life and portraying myself as a teenager with whom you wouldn't wish to be acquainted - it is the very least of my intentions. That's the reason for which I haven't yet created an 'About Me' page because I wouldn't find much of a challenge in describing my on-going love affair with the final season of Desperate Housewives (like the dodgy door handle a few days ago, the DVD broke for the second time) instead of exploring views which are entirely my own; basically, running this blog is some sort of a long-term school project which I formed of my own accord, finally sick of reading badly-written articles by girls who certainly give grammar-excelling teenagers a wrong name. Even all of the texts I send are written in standard English and have remained so since I purchased my first mobile at the age of twelve - a smiley face is the nearest I'm willing to go towards text speak, whilst my mind would go blank if I was forced to figure out certain expressions like LMAO (which, according to Yahoo, means 'laughing my *** off'). Believe me, I stand a higher chance of translating an article in French than a single text by a typical slang-using teenager!

Anyway, I realize that not everybody has the much-envied time of the world (unlike a few students who are still having a lie-in during half-term) to spend reading about my life and passions, so down below features a list of questions relating to my interests and self-themed facts in a short-cut, straight-to-the-point manner. Whether you choose to acknowledge the fact or not, I have quite a few plans rolled up my sleeves this week, including the long-awaited down of my yet-to-be-delivered Apartment Life PC-rom, so let's get on with the LikeATeen show...


What is your name?
This one is highly awkward to admit because I've chosen to remain true to my original intention of keeping my real name a secret. Of course, my real name would be revealed if I happened to state the information of my self-published e-book - a secret of which I've been struggling to keep under wraps for months - so for now I'll refer to myself as Kitty because of my passion for cats and pile loads of money placed in, um, a kitty. If that makes any sense.

How old are you?
Unless I suddenly turn into an adult overnight, I doubt that this question is highly relevant, particularly as I'm still enduring daily battles against my erratic hormones, esteem-harming breakouts and an ever-increasing addiction to young adult novels. I'm a teenager which is all that matters, due to the alarmingly obvious title; there are still a couple of years until I morph into an adult so I'll probably be moaning about my oily forehead which is possibly capable of frying an egg for a good while yet.

Where do you live?
A town situated somewhere (whatever you may believe, I'm not giving directions!) in England, the country in which I was born and have always lived. If you are truly dying to the know, this town is available on Google Earth unlike a few places around the world I've searched for...

What do you do? 
That's simple as licking the remains of an oh-so-sweet apple pie: I'm educated at home by my teacher, otherwise known as my fantastic mum, and run this blog as a hobby. And I also dedicate myself to baking biscuits or cocoa-swirled marble cakes every other weekend, if you're interested in coming around for tea.

Do you have any siblings? 
I have one younger brother who is absolutely mad about Chelsea FC and has somewhat converted me to both the intriguing piano music featured in Minecraft and Jose Mourinho's way of thinking - whilst only becoming a teenager a few months ago!

What are your interests?
Besides embarking on a Scotland Yard-inspired search for the culprit of stuffing the whole bag of chocolate-dipped digestives on a near-daily basis, my interests include following in my mother's flour-dusted footsteps (a.k.a transforming myself into a cookery whiz), taking numerous pictures of my two lovely kittens and expressing myself creatively through the influential art of writing whenever I have a spare moment. In all honesty, I can be interested in a wide array of various subjects, from modern art to designer handbags to the newest X-Men film; my passions cannot be necessarily defined within a few words because I don't limit myself to one or two subjects, so I expand my fascinations when the need calls for it.

What do you like to write about? 
As my answer stated above, anything which interests me has a possibility of being a subject of my posts; over the past few weeks alone, I've displayed my admiration for women who continue to be a valuable source of inspiration whilst giving the low-down about my child-like passion for old-fashioned sweets, so literally everything goes. Ideally, I prefer to offer an insight into topics which are highly associated with teenagers because I'm in the fortunate position of stating how it truly feels to be placed in various situations, but this blog wasn't created on the basis of talking about teen-related issues all the time. Otherwise I would get bored very quickly - could there be anything worse than a bored writer?

Any favourite films, music or books which you wish to share with us?
On the oh-so-fun topic of films, I think that it's true to declare that 60s classic Breakfast at Tiffany's is definitely one of my all-time favourite films as Audrey Hepburn never looked better or inspired me with her dainty, yet elegant beauty. As I've been studying and living like a French for the past three years, I've completely fallen in love with French cinema and assassin thriller Nikita is no exception, along with Untouchable, Amelie and The Class. But would I truly be living up to the classification of a Modern Teen without developing an unwavering love for modern teen classics such as Mean Girls and Clueless? I rest my case.
As for music, I recently received a few CDs (yeah, I know that I'm taking a step towards the Stone Age by failing to purchase an iPod) for my birthday, one of which was Lorde's Pure Heroine, which I truly love. Until now, I never thought that I would be interested in indie music but, in comparison to the robotic beats dominating the charts nowadays, I much prefer it because the lyrics are just as important as the vocals - and Lorde perfectly fits the bill, along with Emeli Sande and Laura Mvula. Yet I love 80s soul and share a passion for jazz queen Sade like my mum does, but I cannot help but sing along to Madonna's tunes - the ones which were actually good, mind you!
And books? I may deem myself as the largest bookworm in the world, but I'm afraid to declare that I can't bring myself to choose just one book which sets my heartbeat racing and sends thrills of excitement down my spine. For now, I enjoy reading tales suited to adolescence with a dash of fantasy added to the mix - have you ever wondered why vampire novels are my guilty pleasure?

And what about those secret addictions of yours?
OK, you've got me - I just cannot hide it anymore! My addictions (well, they aren't too addictive) are playing The Sims, stuffing a liquorice allsort down my throat when nobody is glancing in my direction, applying creamy eyeliner every day and going wild with delight at the prospect of watching another episode of The Vampire Diaries on my malfunctioning DVD player. Do I have to admit anything else?

What are your plans for the future?
As everything I do now is crucial to being labelled as a success in the future, I'm trying to avoid placing any unnecessary pressure in the year leading towards taking exams because an agonizing headache is likely to be brought on.
Ideally, I'd love to study my favourite subjects (English, French, Law, etc) at A-Level before hopefully becoming a law apprentice and studying at the Bar - nothing fascinates me more heavily than Law, so I'm awfully keen to work in that sector. Also, I may become a journalist if I can become a Law apprentice because law correspondents are needed for both newspapers and televised news stations all the time, but anything is possible!

And finally... What are your tips for running a successful blog?
First of all, I'm not entirely sure whether to classify this blog as successful because I have not yet received a comment on any of my posts, but that needn't be discussed at this moment.
The key to running a blog and enjoying the experience is writing when you feel inspired and the moment is absolutely right. Don't stick to one familiar theme all the time unless you are certain that a passion for heavy make-up will forever remain a part of you, otherwise boredom is on the horizon.
Spread the word about the blog to everybody you know - friends and family are ideal options, but promoting within the endless realms of the internet helps, too - and never scrap by with poorly spelt words and bad grammar: you wouldn't want to make an enemy in me!

So, that is all you need to know about LikeATeen for now. Until next time...

Monday 17 February 2014

Sweet, Sugary Half-Term Fun

Hi, I thought that I'd check up here as the new week - one of which includes a half-eaten box of Black Magic chocolates and an evil-eyed kitten staring intently at a pile of uncracked eggs a single leap away on the kitchen worktop - officially commences, as does the blissful seven days of pure relaxation, otherwise known as half-term.

Unless you are not familiar with the schooling system in the cloudy-as-ever UK (despite being home-educated, I still follow the wacky examples set out by the government and struggling curriculum, for that matter), there are typically three terms in every school year and so far I'm half-way through the second, jotting down French expressions at a moment's notice and participating in online Law-themed quizzes which, if a generous proportion of my acne-suffering peers suggests, would be deemed as quite an insult towards those who clearly have no intent to catch up with Law and Order any time soon. Overall, I take immense pride in studying and nothing brings me greater pleasure than passing an English test with flying colours (or whichever shades of my denim blue jeans happen to be caught on the Chelsea kit-stained colourcatcher), yet I feel pretty relieved to be spending a week dedicated to whatever I wish to do and writing about my views today certainly counts as one of my yet-unfulfilled wishes. 

Anyway, don't worry about having sit down to an essay-long post about Valentine's Day-related commercialism or the pile load of mineral foundation I coat onto my spotty face almost every morning as I have other ideas upon my tie-dye jumper's sleeve: thanks to my optimistic mood, I feel like discussing something which has a strong presence in my life and brings plenty of joy whenever used to my own advantage. In all honesty, this item is not something which I have on a near-daily basis, otherwise I would never find the courage to forgive myself for falling into the watchful gaze of temptation oh-too-easily - really, the twice-yearly trip to the dentist has all but sent ice-cold chills down my spine since I watched a hilarious, yet terrifying scene in the Little Shop of Horrors at the age of twelve. The thought of having something pulled out of my lipstick-coated mouth so horrifically usually provokes me to pull myself - and endless hunger - together within an instant, but I do find it difficult to walk past the cupboard without taking a peek inside at the contents and ultimately stealing one or two of my brother's beloved Jelly Babies from time to time. 

Maybe my nationality plays a huge role in my child-like passion for sweets - after all, I almost have to place my hand over my lips to prevent an excited squeal slipping out at the sight of 50s-style sweet jars sold in the local newsagents' - but in general I purely have a sweet, sugar-craving tooth which is never quite satisfied until the strongly-coveted duty has taken place, and I can return to Planet Earth without the fear of losing control at the non-existence liquorice allsorts all but consuming my entire attention. Also, teenagers fall harder than a crumbling cliff when it comes to forming a relationship with anything - from going out with that first boyfriend to becoming a semi-permanent resident at a ginormous Forever 21, we are capable of going one step further whilst passion races through our veins because of our endless energy keeping ourselves up and running. 

People of an older age may not be bothered about carrying out a tiresome search for the purple gown you added to your wishlist a year in advance of the upcoming prom, but you - and many others, including myself - won't even dare to think about stopping for a single moment until the mission is finally completed. That's exactly the relationship which I've built with a bag of fruity jelly babies or liquorice twists over the years ago; although I only pick up a bag as an occasional treat every few months or so, it doesn't make a slight dent towards my enjoyment of the mind-blowing flavours which dance like a salsa-jiving Zumba class on the tip of my tongue for one perfect moment. Basically, nothing makes me happier than the short-lived moments I spend with a bag of sweets, and it is all I think about - when Bart the Kitten isn't providing an annoying distraction within the realms of his shredded litter tray - until the final sweet has been swallowed. 

Sure, I might be giving a false impression of being a sugar addict, but I purely appreciate sweets whilst they somehow manage to last a few days on the cupboard shelf; realizing that my brother shares a similarity to a Dyson hoover, it truly is a wonder that anything remotely sweet remains untouched for any longer than the 90 minute-long duration of a football match. But that's just me, I suppose. 

Down below are a couple of reviews describing various sweets I've tried over the years (a few of which may only be available on England), so be warned: not everything lying on a shelf in the confectionary aisle at the shops is guaranteed to achieve the sugar-induced level of happiness which us moody teenagers are constantly seeking. Or, in my case, made me feel a million times worse... 

Liquorice Allsorts: Despite 'liquor' being featured in the name, I can happily assure that these sweets are definitely alcohol-free - otherwise your parents would probably want the whole bag to themselves! 
In a short description, liquorice allsorts are a basic mixture of colourful sweets, the colours of which range from snow-white to punk-inspired pink, though the liquorice - minus the added sugar and hint of cocoa - is supposedly healthy for oneself as a natural treatment. Hence the reason for which I usually turn towards a bag of oh-so-sugary liquorice allsorts whenever a runny nose or sore throat sneaks upon me during the middle of a bitterly cold winter; you see, I make an effort to time the rare occasions I appreciate junk food! 
Why I love them so much, I really couldn't tell you, but I guess that I like them so greatly is that my maternal grandmother shared a fondness for them as well, so every single sweet I plonk into my mouth (which, by the way, isn't many because I seriously have no desire to let my teeth rot in a liquorice-coated hell) is a sort of tribute towards her memory. 
Also, one of the greatest things about liquorice allsorts - the description is truly in the name, if you haven't already noticed - is that every single one is different, so sticking your hand into a bag and finding a different variety never becomes boring at all! Unless I come across those liquorice-free blue or pink sweets...

Jelly Babies: I just typed in 'jelly babies' on Google and discovered that they are indeed sold in America via shopping haven Amazon, so hopefully any Americans wandering through this blog may be familiar with this famous British sweet. 
Since falling in love with these at a young age, I've always remained loyal towards the coloured gelatine-filled jelly babies, all of which come in a variety of different colours. Personally, my favourite is the half-blackcurrant, half-black sweet because I'm naturally attracted towards goth-inspired colours like a shoe-buying addict to a Christian Louboutin store, but all of the flavours - from green to yellow to the cute little pink baby - taste delicious, regardless of the naturally flavoured colours. 
Unlike the liquorice allsorts above - some of which contain a bit of fat due to the usage of dessicated coconut - these jelly babies are completely fat-free, but this fact doesn't give me permission to chunk the whole contents down my throat within one serving! A couple at a time is the perfect serving and permits me to take one or two from the bag directly a while later; a trick which my jelly baby-adoring brother hasn't quite realized yet... 
If I had to choose between liquorice allsorts and jelly babies, I would truly struggle to pick my ultimate favourite because both are special in various ways. Personally, I lean slightly more towards jelly babies as I can still faintly remember having them during childhood, whilst I've only grown to appreciate liquorice allsorts within recent years. But I'd still have both if the option was available!

Milk Bottles: Of late, I haven't really had any of these glass-free bottles due to the sharp rise of this product in recent years, so I'm purely depending on my then-loving taste during childhood, where a couple of milk bottles were standard within a bag of Haribos from time to time. 
Although I still drink two glasses of it every day, milk has never stood out as a favourite drink of mine, but I've always liked these milk bottles because they manage to replicate a milky flavour without using any real milk - just how would that be possible? 
Squidgy and creamy in texture, I love milk bottles because they look like healthier sweets but, as you well know, looks can be extremely deceiving! Now that I'm talking about it, I hope to be able to purchase a small bag of these within the near future as I'm literally dying to revisit the vanilla flavours which I know so well; some things never change, huh?

Cola Bottles: For the sugary goodness which I miss out on my occasionally-consumed cans of caffeine-free Diet coke, I certainly make up for it with these sweets which, as the name rightfully suggest, are presented in the dainty form of Coca Cola-inspired bottles.
A reason for which I fondly enjoy a couple of cola bottles is that they are remarkably plainish in flavour, a trait which I commonly prefer as I don't always wish to be overwhelmed with a powerful sweetness - plenty of people must agree, otherwise cola bottles wouldn't be more popular than ever!
And, unless the secret has not yet been revealed to you, those who take their time whilst eating stand a higher chance of keeping their weight stable. Considering that it takes me half an hour to chew my way into a single cola bottle, I think that I'm doing fine as it is...

And the treats which I don't find so sweet...

Toffee: One word defines my life-long hatred of toffee for which, despite the vast amount of Quality Street chocolates being handed over to me over the ages, I've never developed a sticky-toothed passion: disgusting.
If the thought of having your teeth literally stuck together for ages doesn't revolt you, toffee is just right up your alley - and couldn't possibly be further from mine! I would have to lose all sense of myself to fall in love with the stickiness which typically comes within a wrapped rectangle as the scent of it brings me an unpleasant wave of nausea, so you needn't question why I regularly argue with my sticky-lipped brother.
As I usually get confused between the two, I also count fudge as a treat which is way too sweet for my liking - since overindulging on one too many Cadbury's Fudge bars a few Christmases ago, I have never felt the same way about them since. Eat at your peril!

Cough candy: Why this was called candy, I truly don't know; until I took one whiff of the bag on an occasion where I was ironically suffering from a cough, I had never realized that herbs were the main ingredients within these so-called 'treats'.
Cue a sick feeling spreading all over me and a desire to chuck my breakfast out of the window - I had never felt more unwell in my entire life until I tried a cough candy, which ultimately found its way into the dusty realms of the kitchen bin.
To my horror, both my dad and brother started to chew on these solid sweets - which look rather like sherbets, minus the tangling flavour and desired sweetness - all the time and I couldn't bear to stand in the same room as them, unless they didn't mind the sight of my heaving at the horrid stench and a paleness like never before turning my face the shade of Casper the Ghost.
Just don't eat these unless you are capable of eating literally anything on this planet; even writing about cough candy is bringing back terrible memories of illness, so I'm going to stop before the first round of nausea arrives.


And so, you can pretty much tell that I, the health fanatic teenager, has an undeniable penchant for all things sugary. From liquorice allsorts to milk bottles, I crave different varieties of sweets for various reasons and will probably continue to adore them for the rest of my life, if old-fashioned traditions remain true.

Right now, a yet-unfinished bag of sweets is calling my name (or so I wish to believe) and I don't particularly wish to ignore it any longer!


Friday 14 February 2014

Looking for the True Meaning of Valentine's Day

Has the thought of time flying by without being noticed ever occurred to you? As I swallow an overwhelming sweet green triangle from my brother's box of Quality Street (later on, guilt is destined to creep upon me as I broke all my oh-so-rigorous rules against eating sweets before lunchtime), it seems strange that the loveliest day of the year - the one dedicated to Saint Valentine - has sprung upon the lovestruck universe once again, bringing thousands of poppy-red envelopes and mass-produced teddy bears in its wake.

Don't get me wrong, if I had a lover or admirer of some sorts, I'd probably be easily swept into the excitement surrounding this one special day, especially if a box of luxurious dark chocolates were part of the deal. Yeah, I really can't get through an occasion or particular holiday without placing my thoughts towards the endless array of chocolates decorating the shelves at the supermarket, can I? But one thing which I will disclose to any future, ahem, lovebirds (not even my new thesaurus can clarify a fitting word for this description) is that chocolates, a romantic poem and a peek inside your inner soul brings a girl to her knees, experiencing the liveliest sentiment of love throbbing in her won-over heart. At least it should be easier nowadays thanks to being able to access websites dedicated to Valentine's Day-themed poems and guides as to what your true love may squeal with heartfelt delight when opened on the day itself; if Siri on your iPhone can think of everything for you, what is there not to like about Valentine's Day?

Anyway, I guess that I shouldn't feel the need to rush outdoors into the inevitable storm brewing in the castover garden and embark on a life-changing search for a boyfriend - I'm only a teenager at the end of the day, though it would be pretty hard to forget the oh-so-obvious title of this blog unless you chucked your reading glasses underneath your bed or something. My spirits were lifted higher than a trip on an air balloon when my parents gave me a box of Black Magic chocolates as a Valentine's Day gift earlier this morning, and I should know after chucking an Almond Crunch into my mouth five minutes later - you couldn't get closer to a mid-morning pick-me-up than a square of chocolate-induced heaven hitting the tip of your awaiting tongue!

Beneath the overdone layer of nude eye shadow and bulletproof taupe eyeliner, I simply feel awkward about celebrating Valentine's Day because it doesn't stand out as a day which is associated with myself, unless it validates an excuse to pick up a copy of Goodfellas due to it being placed in the romantic films section at the local store (which, by the way, isn't an action which my law-studying self can legally do as I'm under the age of eighteen). Sure, I gain a phenomenal amount of pleasure by reading novels about a supposedly plain teenage girl falling in love with the most handsome boy on the planet because it offers me the opportunity to escape from the cloudy realms of reality, yet I can never quite bring myself to relate entirely with the characters - if the boy is truly a heavenly hunk, why hasn't he been snapped up by Storm Model Management or a Calvin Klein campaign yet? You see, some magical spells placed over an engaged reader are broken like a glass bottle of Coca Cola if I get my hands upon them - I instantly compare plots to reality and often immerse myself in disappointment as soon as it becomes clear that real life just is not the same like a wonderful, ideally-set book.

And that's exactly the way I view Valentine's Day; people constantly make a huge song and dance (rather like the cast of Glee, if you've ever caught a minute or two during commercial breaks) about living up the expectations associated with making 14th February a day to remember for a lifetime, but what is truly defined as perfect when love enters the equation? When the subject of Valentine's Day pops into my head like an unignorable desire to purchase a satchel handbag, I instantly think of romantic meals, cards from secret admirers and extravagant gifts packaged in a whale-sized bag. Typical ideas, don't you think? And it doesn't matter about your age or your feelings towards heated passion, but everybody - from card manufacturers to cash-making shops to even a romance-obsessed media, if the constant discussion of celebrities' love lives on The Huffington Post is anything to go by - will make a ruthless attempt to shove pink-frosted cupcakes or reduced straight-to-DVD love-themed films down your throat. Literally. In simpler words, I find that Valentine's Day is one large advertisement to companies who are desperate to reach out to potential customers - without even displaying an ounce of shame for it!

So, doesn't it clear up my feelings like a flawless Dyson hoover relating to my views about Valentine's Day? Yeah, it would make quite a lot of sense if one fell into the tight clutches of awkwardness because they refuse to play into the hands of retailers and commercialism, which I believe has had an enormous affect over how the world functions today - in both good and bad ways. I would probably have to have a heart of rock-solid stone if I didn't smile at the welcoming sight of a fluffy teddy bear with a decorated red ribbon; some passions shouldn't be ignored in order to remain true to certain beliefs, especially if a cuddly toy (which I may find hugely embarrassing in years' to come) is in question. Those acknowledging Valentine's Day ought to offer gifts representing their love for one another and sometimes a box of chocolates or a heart-themed mug simply expresses love better than words - nobody can dismiss an affectionate gesture if performed with the greatest intentions, and I certainly wouldn't have the power to do so if a treat is within a ten-mile radius!

What annoys me the most is when people pick up something entirely out of their usual shopping habits on the basis that it related to Valentine's Day - do they honestly like the product or is it an a rather pawtry excuse to squander money for the pure sake or it? Anyway, I think that those who know the true meaning or love - and fully appreciate the occasion - wisely stay clear of those marketing traps, which only adds more spending money towards shops highly intent on draining one of all their pennies.

And after letting off some heated steam, I can fully enjoy the rest of the day ahead of me, with some dark chocolates awaiting to open sometime later; one day, it is likely that I could forget all my views surrounding commercialism as I fall in love madly and am drawn to a pink bubble bath or something similarly unnecessary, but for now I'll bear the true meaning of St Valentine's Day.

Until the next one!

Wednesday 12 February 2014

Make-up and Me: My Cosmetics Rituals

Hey, the sun may not be shining and I can definitely sense the hairs on my back standing up thanks to the large draft in my window (am I ever so lucky to be writing in the bedroom most affected by the 30mph winds?), but my feel-good mood is as strong as ever this afternoon and so I only wish to spread the storm-free joy by discussing the beauty must-haves which have significantly changed my life. Forever. Yeah, I really have no desire of bringing up the not-so-pleasant conversation over whether I'll still be donning black cherry eyeliner in seventy or so years time, but right now couldn't offer me a better opportunity than to try my hand at a spectacular array of products, lifesavers and, as your bubblegum pink lips are bursting to tell me, all of the colours on a rainbow. Talking of which, I wouldn't really be surprised if my purple-lidded eyes caught sight of a rainbow any time soon thanks to the non-stop rain pounding against the window, but the mood-dampening topic of storms can be nicely pushed aside for a while...

Face

Ah yes, where would anyone be able to start in the oh-so-wonderful land of make-up with sorting out their faces? From complexion-smoothing foundations to oil-controlling primers to life-saving concealers (let's admit it; all of us have resorted to using these once or twice within a spot-tastic lifetime), it is no wonder that the beauty counters are bursting with hundreds of goodies which claim to revolutionize our make-up bags.

Believe me, I may proudly proclaim myself as a hard cookie (though I have a natural preference for the softer, deliciously chewy variety), but I probably wouldn't have been staying true to myself if I didn't almost fall into the tight clutches of products which give potential consumers the promises that they want to hear from time to time.

Like any fashion-obsessed girl, one of my main three wishes included a complexion to rival a self-titled beauty queen as I felt so insecure about my own. Without heading into blemish-prone territory, I had a million and one problems relating to my spots and so it was basically my MI5-inspired mission to place the very best products - from oil-reducing scrubs to fairly natural foundation - onto my face, otherwise World War II probably would've broken out across the easily-angered kingdom otherwise known as myself by now.

Eventually, as you'll realize with the list of fabulous products I've noted down below, I found my king in armour via a jar of mineral powder and numerous beauty sets purchased by none other than my mum, who completely understands my current rush of hormonal, blemish-splattered problems. In my opinion, the products which I apply several times a week onto my face are suited rather well to sensitive skin which, if you had ever been an unfortunate witness to my breakouts in the past, is the type which I currently have, so please don't bombard me with hate-fuelled letters should a problem arise!

Foundation: Bare Minerals Original SPF15 Foundation, £22.05, qvcuk.com
Did you just spit your sip of Diet Coke all over the floor or what?! OK, the price tag may send alarm bells ringing - just like that dreadful moment when you realize that the supermarket has run out of your favourite Ben and Jerry's ice cream - but please believe me when I say that it works like a dream, covering blemishes easily and turning your complexion into one which an international star would envy!
Anyway, the whole of Bare Mineral's range - the corporation of which remains true to nature and promises to use the most natural products available on this planet - offers a fabulous selection of great products, many of which I've tried in the past and have fallen in love with. Yet I doubt that the brand would be where it is today if it were not for the foundation which, despite its grainy-looking texture and powdery appearance, glides onto your skin easily by using the Full Flawless Face Brush from the range (£21, qvcuk.com), which prevents your face looking unpleasantly caked - a look which everyone wishes to avoid at all costs!
As many would find with foundations, it does take a while to get used to using this mineral powder, especially as it was the very first foundation of any kind that I had personally used, so I needn't be reminded of the ghastly looks I unintentionally created during my first few attempts! Plus, I always felt the need to apply some blush (Compassion, £19, is the nearest I can find to the shade I use which was obtained in a limited edition set) due to having a near-porcelain complexion, unless I had a strange urge to resemble Casper the ghost's girlfriend for Halloween or something; just one of the few pitfalls of not using bronzer.
On the subject of skin tones, I use the lightest shade available which is called Fair, but you should easily find the one best suited to your own by accessing a colour chart which offers the helpful features of models who should remotely resemble your skin colour. Until last year, I'd stuck to Fairly Light though I only truly saw the light - and brighter results - once I swapped to Fair, but you may be taken aback by the colour which would look the best on you. Trust me!
As my skin glows like never before - courtesy of the minerals which promise to not only make your skin look worthy of a Hollywood scarlet, but to nourish it - I hope that you'll see what I'm talking about by giving the whole Bare Minerals range a go. And like the saying goes, you truly pay for what you get - you only need to look at my face to realize it!

Concealer: Bare Minerals SPF20 Concealer, £19, www.bareminerals.co.uk
Unlike the foundation which has become somewhat of my everyday beauty staple, the need to apply concealer only arises on a rare occasion where nobody on this planet should see my spots, highlighting the problematic area like a glowing stick for the world to witness. And this concealer by the wonderful Bare Minerals (the only make-up brand which I feel confident to use on my face and disaster zones) simply does the job by covering the troublesome spots brilliantly and soothing my fears over a person with remarkably clear eyesight catching a glimpse of it in the light, all within a tinier-than-you'd-expect jar.
Before using it, I wasn't aware of the highly well-known fact that you needn't apply mountain-high amounts of it due to a miniscule amount being needed, so you can only imagine my cake-tastic appearance afterwards - and bronzed glow radiating from my skin! My only slight criticism is that I wish a lighter shade could be available because the current colour closely suited to my porcelain tone does look rather dark, and it definitely shows if I accidently apply one grain too many; resembling an over-tanned member of The Only Way is Essex cast couldn't be further away from my desired appearance!
Anyway, I always know that I can rely upon the Bare Minerals range as both the public and the beauty industry - one of which has been famously renowned for the worrying usage of dangerous preservations and cancer-associated parabens - appreciate its natural style, which defines the person I am within a single sweep of pure concealer. Perhaps it works a little too well if I no longer have enough spots to hide - thankfully!

Eyes 

Eyes, eyes, eyes... Don't they just define beauty a whole lot better than any other area on our faces? Ever since I received a free eyeliner in a fashion magazine at the age of eleven, I've always loved applying cosmetics around this area because one can truly transform their style within the stroke of a pen or sweep of a shimmery eye shadow. Although my eyes are easily defined on a daily basis, I still doubt that I stand any possibility of gaining a career as a make-up artist out of my five-minute schedule of cosmetics fun in the eerily bright morning - looking back at my recently-taken pictures of messily-applied liquid eyeliner confirms the oh-so-real truth! Still, I love my eyes nonetheless and always feel ready to face the day once this special area has been made up, adding a hidden strength to my tasks du jour like nothing else can...

Eyeliner: Mally 10 Piece Starlight Eyeliner Collection, £35.52, qvcuk.com
Despite only receiving the eye-popping collection less than a fortnight ago, it needn't be said twice that I've absolutely fallen in love with the dazzling array of colours, which range from a lid-enhancing pearly pink to a classic jet-black - exactly what an eyeliner-loving teenager like myself had in mind!
As I'd felt relatively drawn towards darker shades since I first started to experiment with make-up, this collection - eight of which feature nighttime-suited colours, minus the two used as highlighters - instantly stood out towards me, plus the formula by this American brand attracted me because it is strongly declared as bulletproof. And as I struggle to take the make-up off my lids in the evening, I've truly discovered the meaning of the word! Another positive about the eyeliners is that they are self-sharpening, which have certainly put my tedious days of breaking kohl eyeliners to an end; the soft creaminess also prevents you tugging harshly against the tender skin, a problem of which I've commonly experienced with cheaper, wider known brands in the past.
For those of you who are not familiar with Mally, let me explain; Mally was created by the famous make-up artist Mally Roncal, who lives and works in her native New York. From Jennifer Lopez to Beyonce, Mally has worked with numerous famous stars and is now focusing on her brand, which has won countless awards for its long-lasting formula along with a loyal legion of consumers across the world. Having since given these eyeliners a go, I'm proud to say that I've become a Mally fan as I've never used any eyeliners like hers - and why should I try any others now that I've found the ones which previously only resided in my dreams? Personal favourites within the collection include Smoky Taupe (a taupey brown which smudges like a smoky dream), Midnight (a timeless chic black), Starshine (a dazzling silver) and Black Cherry, a subtle purple which I've applied onto my eyelids today.
I feel immensely glad that I bought these eyeliners because right now I would've definitely regretted it as I already couldn't imagine living without them - like eyeliners themselves!

Mascara: Bare Minerals Flawless Definition Mascara, £17, www.bareminerals.co.uk
Once again, Bare Minerals come to rescue where make-up asks a gaping question: how do I find a mascara which guarantees long-lasting results without sacrificing on natural, allergy-free ingredients? Needless to say, I headed towards my mineral-loving friends and have never looked back, extending the length of my medium-length lashes as of when the need for it arises.
Personally, I don't use mascara every day because I already wear eyeliner all the time, so usually it's either one or the other unless a special occasion comes up, but this doesn't mean that I'm willing use to use any cheap brand - I couldn't be further from the truth! At least I'm never faced with the possibility of being knocked out from an additive-addled formula whenever I open the Bare Minerals mascara as, despite its similar appearance to fellow not-so-natural rival brands, it still remains as natural and true to nature as one could hope for one of make-up's most chemically-associated product - has anyone truly considered the commonly-found risks in the usage of Revitalash yet?
Within one brush, my eyelashes look longer and strongly resemble a pair of false eyelashes which you can buy in a beauty shop - without running the risk of getting an allergic reaction from the foul-stenched glue! OK, I haven't always been entirely natural when it comes to mascara as I couldn't resist trying a free Benefits mascara as a magazine freebie once, but the results never pleased me as much as the Flawless Definition one by Bare Minerals.
Sure, mascara might not be on top of my desperately-needed beauty products, but it definitely serves its purposes when needed - and Bare Minerals counts all of the boxes whilst avoiding the need to sacrifice on naturally good quality!

Lips

There is only one single word which defines my love of lips, which exaggerate my naturally plump smackeroonies (sorry, the online thesaurus didn't offer any better suggestions) and add a pop of uplifting colour: lipstick.
Erase all memories of gloopy lip gloss and recently-washed hair sticking to my glued-tight lips onto a windy day; only lipstick deserves a place in my prestigious Beauty Wall of Frame, standing beside eyeliner, mineral foundation and a light covering of cheek-enhancing blush like the Oscar winner it truly is.
If it wasn't for my lips, I question whether I would have ever displayed any kind of interest in make-up at all because it was where all of it started when I purchased my very first collection of lip glosses - which, as you correctly predicted, were produced by Bare Minerals - at the age of eleven, receiving the very best introduction to cosmetics as one could ever hope.
Unlike the other formulas I was unfortunately destined to try (and later chuck into my ancient Bratz-themed bin), the Bare Mineral glosses were moisturizing and never felt sticky, purely keeping my lips in check with a hint of oh-so-natural colour. Literally, that summer was all but defined by those lip glosses as I applied them in inch-thick layers every single day until I reached the end of the bottles and eventually threw them away, which signalled my still-lost of interest in lip glosses as I moved further towards lipstick.
OK, my very first experience with lip sticks may be one which I'd prefer not to remember (the so-called 'natural' ones I picked up in Boots were a pain to apply onto my lips because almost no colour came out; even a rock-solid lollypop was deemed softer than those cheap lipsticks), but it didn't take any time until I'd settled upon a brand which offered my desired look without breaking the bank: Rimmel London.
As I write this down, even I question the reasons for which I'm more fascinated in saving my pennies towards my regular usage of lipstick than making a sacrifice or two relating to my fairly expensive foundation or concealer, both of which are certainly at least £10 too much for a plain majority of people.
Unlike the tiny amounts of foundation and concealer I apply onto my face once or twice a week, I use varying shades of lipstick every day without thinking twice about it and, frankly, my lips are not as sensitive as the rest of my face, which has a tendency to break out ever so easily. Besides, why should I spend £20 or more for a self-proclaimed 'decent' lipstick by a designer brand if I can still obtain the same results with a cheaper item? What with the amount of products I've tried over the years, I've learnt the ability to sense cheap ingredients within a five-mile radius - and I couldn't appreciate make-up more than ever!
Unsurprisingly, I do use lipsticks by other brands from time to time, such as Maybelline Colour Sensational in Sweet Pink, which has so far been the only nude pink best suited to a porcelain skin tone (today's shade, if you wish to know), and I've happily taken to the creamy texture of ybf's range of lipsticks, two of which I received in a discontinued collection around a year ago. But mainly I stick to Rimmel because I know where I stand with them - long-lasting results, fabulous colour and moisturized lips. The praise is endless!
Also, I love nothing more than playing with lip colour as it truly gives me pile loads of rainbow-paletted joy - who can deny the rush of pleasure racing through your veins at the sight of your bright smile in a mirror? Of late, I've been wearing an eye-popping red shade from the Kate Moss collection at Rimmel, giving me a Parisian-inspired look which a French-learning speaker like myself rather appreciates!
From the dark plums commonly worn by teen singer Lorde to au naturel nudes, lipstick truly is fun to wear and that's why I always need more of it - at a pocket-friendly price!

So, that is all I can say about my beauty-related passions; whether I'm in the mood to go as natural as possible by donning a layer of frosty pink lipstick and a slick of black mascara or release my inner beauty queen via dark eyeliner and enviable foundation, I think that I've got it covered with make-up. And hey, don't we all have our little beauty secrets?



Tuesday 11 February 2014

Curing Spots and Tedious Moods - A Dream Come True!

Since I set up this blog late last October, I have proclaimed my dislike and sadness over angry-looking, redder-than-my-runny-nose spots on a near-regular business, as of when a bout of teenage blues has swept me off my slipper-clad feet. 

Basically, I've been fighting a losing battle against mild acne - or so I wish to call it because the search engine Google seems to agree with my depressing dilemma - since my very spot was squeezed at the age of eight, fretting over the monstrous sight of large spots bumpier than a pot hole-infested road spreading across the tedious T-\zone and failing to find that all-important cure which would hopefully make my blemish-related problems disappear into a smooth, healthy complexion. 

I know that almost all teenagers go through the same situation to a less or greater extent during puberty - of course, my dermatology-obsessed self ought to realize that since coming across a survey revealing that only 15% or less of teens get away from the harmful perils of acne scot-free - but nothing can take away the agony which we face whenever we casually roll out of bed and are horrified by a dozen of newly-planted spots assuming control over your once-handsome face? Sure, I may still get up extra-early before the sun rises to get ready for lessons almost every morning, yet this practice doesn't lessen my horror as I catch a darkened glimpse of my red-faced complexion in the bathroom; even as I cleanse my face with water, my cloth-protected fingers are still able to feel the bumpiness of the inflamed skin, rather like trekking upon a mountain with tons of solid, uneven rocks in a pair of flat-soled Converse. 

Regardless of what my eyes may see, instinct still knows that the problem continues to persist like an relentless backache or constant screening of a yawnful football match on TV, and for ages I've been feeling a whole lot worse about it because everything I do to help and sooth the infection is always incapable of being sorted out. Until a while ago, frustration had all but become a constant role in my everyday life as my mild acne - which had set up home on my chin and mouth, having moved out of my now lump-free forehead months before - seemingly worsened, despite my attempts to come across the magical cure which only existed within my wildest (and spot-free) dreams. 

Last summer, desperation had a tighter grip than ever before as I resorted to the unknown diet of giving up cows' milk in favour of a dairy-free option, in the hope of giving my skin a break from the supposedly high amount of female hormones found in a typical glass of calcium-rich milk. Perhaps I should've waited until the usual heat surrounding a sweltering summer's day had come to a relievable end before giving up cows' milk because, in hindsight, my skin always had a tendency to worsen during higher temperatures due to the excessive amount of oil being produced - yet this five week-long experiment led to no improvements and I was reintroduced to cows' milk without any problems, though I cannot entirely regret the failed attempt as almond milk has since become a firm favourite of mine (if the hefty price tag doesn't produce a gasp of shock from my lips, that is). 

Shortly afterwards, I swapped my original skincare brand - tea tree-oil based Australian Bodycare (ABC) - to Witch, on the basis of the fairly successful results I had achieved with the witch hazel stick which managed to dry out and stabilize the condition of my skin to certain extent for several years. For a while, I began to feel more positive about my skin as it appeared to calm down (as did my torrentous moods, which were partly associated with my spotty issues) and the mild acne gave the impression of settling down, but it quickly became clear that my skin wasn't getting any better as I placed my hopes upon. Again. 

Although thousands of questions may be swirling like a stick of candyfloss inside your mind, I reckon that you're dying to ask whether I ever made an appointment with a doctor to reach some sort of conclusion with the matter because it certainly was spiralling out of my control, declaring all of my hard-worked efforts a complete waste of time. The answer? No, I never even contemplated about visiting the local doctors' surgery as it was fairly simple to predict the oh-so-heavenly-cure - I'd be handed a box of acne-suppressing drugs or placed onto a course of antibiotics, along with a hefty bill for my 'life-changing' treatment. 

Really, I needn't have thought twice about it because it simply wasn't an option for me; in recent months, so-called 'revolutionizing' acne drugs have been linked to depression amongst teenagers and, in the most dreadful cases, the taking of one's life. Considering that I had a tendency to sink into the gloomy realms of spot-related blues, using a drug which could have potentially accelerated my moodiness wasn't a risk that I was willing to take; plus, the ingredients have been commonly linked to the weakening of one's immune system, opening a whole can of worms which could affect one's health for a lifetime. So, would I truly fancy an unpleasant trip to a doctor and a prescription to illness-related acne drugs? No thanks!

Just like my usage of mineral make-up, I intended to remain loyal to the most natural remedies available on the market which, to my disappointment, were only loaded with the complete opposite of what I'd been looking for - a 'miracle' facial scrub with a nationwide TV campaign, anyone? From the contents of a packet of artificial-free rice to the colourings used in my favourite lipstick, I'm obsessed with ingredients in basically anything I can get my hands on and skin care suited to my oiler-than-a-deep-fried-doughnut skin was no acception! But I was only faced with more feelings of disappointment as my 24/7 search on natural, blemish-reducing products didn't result into anything, sadness hitting me a vicious wave almost all the time. As everybody else I saw carried on leading their lives without a hint of a red mark putting a damper on their happiness, I grew unhappier with my complexion, which greatly affected the confidence I had left after going through hell and back during my agonizing years as an acne-suffering teenager. 

That is until my mum - ever so quick with finding helpful results on the internet - made a remarkable discovery one evening last week, introducing two familiar ingredients into my life who have quickly become trustworthy friends. Of course, many of you may not even offer the informal title of a pal towards ingredients which you regularly consume - I should know as I talk about both of them all the time - but since trying them out on my face seven days ago, my mild acne has all but faded into smaller, less angrier marks and given me what I'd set my hopes upon for years: myself. 

Yes, I've enjoyed myself and have experienced the uplifting joys of being immersed in happiness, yet deep down every single spot - whether it had been painfully squeezed and given the opportunity to fade away or still persisted - had left a semi-permanent mark within myself because I could never run away from the problem lying beneath my lumpy and ugly-looking complexion. You see why teenagers struggle to contain their emotions and stay as sane as possible on a daily basis? Alongside dealing with the unavoidable hassles of growing up and being given pile loads of responsibilities at once, falling prey to acne doesn't help us one little bit, so I truly believe that our generation ought to be given some slack when it comes to coping with difficulties on both the outside and, most importantly, the inside. 

Since my skin has given spectacular hints at clearing up for good, not a single thing can wipe away the ecstatic smile tugging away on my lips - rather like getting an A+ in an English essay, I feel utterly elated! If only people were willing to accept the emotional trauma which comes with years of acne problems, as it is something which needs to be understood on a higher level; although I wouldn't classify myself as undeniably vain (unless an unwashed mane of greasy locks are in question), my heart would break into tiny pieces at the sight of a face which I couldn't associate with my own. It seemed wrong that my skin was turning against me and failing to respond to the numerous treatments - from giving up cows' milk to swapping brands, I've done it all - I'd tried, so now part of myself cannot quite believe the wonderful spectacle of smooth skin radiating in front of my bedazzled eyes. A dream come true? I certainly think so!

So, I'm probably correct in guessing that you are bursting with impatience to find out my oh-so-fabulous secret to gaining the skin of your dreams, am I not? OK, I won't keep you in agony for a moment longer as I'm also dying to unveil my life-changing discovery, especially as I only wish to spread the joys of an acne-free teenage life! My little secret? Use a teaspoon each of good-quality honey and ground cinnamon into a little bowl, stir together thoroughly then apply onto your face for ten minutes before rinsing it off. 'Simple' is likely to be the first word to spring to mind, so I believe, and it honestly is! Not only does honey help inflamed skin, it helps to keep it moisturized whilst the cinnamon is a match made-in-heaven - believe me, you couldn't possibly find a more natural alternative which would offer the same desired results!

As I reach the end of writing this post, I feel a lot happier than I did over an hour ago. Having discussed and put away my spotty problems for once and for all, now I'm truly able to appreciate life for what it stands without an unwanted blemish preventing me from having a great time. Acne? That was so last week!

Friday 7 February 2014

Obsessed: The Things Captivating a Teenager

Am I crazy or what, my logical voice asks when I gaze happily at a not-so-cheap handbag online, unleashing a sigh tinged with bitter sadness. I mean, do I honestly have a major problem when it comes to falling head over heels for something like there is no tomorrow? Sometimes, hormones spiralling out of control (which, however much I wish to avoid the unpleasant truth standing right before me, happens all the time) is usually the main reason for which I spend hours upon hours beginning a doomed love affair with an item which only a wealthy bank account could afford - a dilemma, along with my sweetly flavoured addiction to cocoa, in need of being solved.

From birth, everybody is destined to stumble across their strengths and weaknesses like a Weightwatchers member supposedly walking into a McDonald's by accident, but we typically only stress attention over the things which we are capable of performing to the most elite level; in quite a stark similarity to shoving an unwanted itchy jumper into the unknown realms of a wardrobe, our weaknesses are all but ignored because, unless you feel as mighty as Superman clad in a pair of pants remarkably smaller than Speedos, we feel too weak to face the problem lying in front of our faces. You see, it's an endless situation which sees absolutely no way of discovering a potential end - and that is exactly the case with my penchant for handbags and numerous other goodies on the internet and in store, temptation closing in on me like a bar of high quality chocolate dancing before my glittering eyes. I told you that I was crazy, right?

From a pricey Dior bag to valuable gold hoops to even the eighth and final season of Desperate Housewives on DVD (this one needn't count as extreme because I already experienced problems with two previous copies, so my desire to reach the oh-so-sad ending is becoming an unignorable itch), my heart yearns to add all of these wonderful items into my relatively long list of possessions, though deep down I just know that I stand a measly slim chance of receiving a raise of a grand in my weekly pocket money - so much for going on a lavish spending spree in Harrods any time soon! Dreaming of carrying a bag which would even provoke a smile to tug at Victoria Beckham's wrinkle-free lips is fantasy of mine that stands no possibility of morphing into a perfect, Dior-filled reality - yet despite facing up to the truth and describing it in quite a frank manner, I cannot fully switch off my powerful yearning for an enviable designer item. Like stumbling through the dark in search of the light switch, almost everything is easier said than done and, regardless of how humorous it may appear to maintain my exhausting obsession with a classically styled bag, I can add that valuable bag to my ever-growing list of Nice, but Income-Draining items.

If you believed that an accessory from the latest Parisian collections was enough to grab my attention faster than the heavenly sight of tortilla-style crisps, I'm proud to inform you that your beliefs are as wrong as Premier League footballer's fang-bearing habits. Ready to embark into the unknown of a teenager's hefty number of obsessions? Read on...

1) Earrings: From small, dazzling studs to plain gold-coloured hoops (believe me, I'm not made of money; Forever 21 will have to do until a trip to Tiffany's beckons) which add a desirable effect of understated cool, I absolutely love earrings and have adored them so since I got my first ear piercing at the age of eight, the occasion of which I still remember rather heavily. Sure, I might have nearly collapsed onto the floor in shock as the studs pierced through my ears, but nobody could have denied the fact that I was nonetheless grinning ear to ear - wearing earrings, just like studying French almost every day, has grown to define who I am and I definitely wouldn't feel the same without a pair on my dainty ears. Hence the reason for which the activity of swimming in a pool with tens of middle-aged women baring their cellulite was never deemed as my idea of fun because I could never wear my favourite earrings in the chlorine-polluted water.
After getting my second and final piercing last summer, my love for earrings has reached a whole new level because I've greatly enjoyed the daily task of choosing a pair of 'base' studs or teardrops to co-ordinate with the second piercing, mainly due to my preference of sticking to one style in that still-sensitive hole. However, I'll probably be changing my mind within no time since I received a set of colourful pearl studs for my birthday last week - even more of an excuse to exaggerate my passion over the beloved jewellery!

2) Vampires: Perhaps probably best reserved for Halloween and Twilight-themed movie marathons, vampires have all but assumed the role of a fascination in my eyes which, despite having reached the all-exciting climax of Breaking Dawn more than a year ago, I highly doubt will be bursting into orange flames à la a sunburnt vamp.
Truly, not even my pale-faced self can muster an answer which logically explains for my fondness for the sharp-teethed creatures, though it would be almost as impossible as affording a Dior bag (or Louis Vuitton bag, if you wish to explore my bag-fuelled fantasy further) to deny how intriguing the fictional species are - they are a far cry from the sausage-devouring people trawling the streets in the modern day world, so of course I would be instantly drawn to them like an online H&M sale!
From big-budget Hollywood films to action-packed books (there is no need to ask the theme of my red-tinged dreams, if you haven't already realized), I like vampires because they explore life in a different manner to humans and I've always been quite a sucker for fantasy/sci-fi films. Unlike the ghastly sight of an alien in desperate need of cosmetic surgery in Aliens, I've never been unable to quench my pride over having the ability to take pleasure in the sight of a red-eyed vampire with a bloody mouth in need of a good scrub; after all, it's what I call my guilty pleasure so why not indulge myself in it like a rare serving of rich chocolate mousse?
Oh, and what's better to spend a Friday night in style than watching the juiciest programme on the planet, The Vampire Diaries? Whatever it's about, the diaries must be far more interesting than my own; will a spotty-faced girl like me ever stand a chance of being caught within a love triangle with two handsome vampires? This is an obsession best enjoyed whilst sitting on the sofa, so I think.

3) Cats: Although I can hardly see anything negative about having such a huge passion for stroking, playing and hanging out with fluffy, amical cats, it wouldn't take me a second to declare a life-long obsession for these beautiful animals - they are essentially my whole life!
My first kitties, Tom and Jerry, protected me like a prized painting at the London Museum when I was a little baby and I grew up in a loving environment where litter trays, soaked copies of The Daily Mail and a horrible-scented Felix cat food were a massive part of everyday life. Even catching sight of a cat trotting on the pavement near my house provoked the whole family to rush over to the window, talking twenty to the dozen about a cat's fur covered in black oil and dirt like a massive story had been announced on the news.
Why do I love cats? I guess that my love for them simply runs in my genes because both my parents grew up with them, so blame my genetics for smiling at pictures of tiny kittens and videos starring a whingeing cat on YouTube! Plus, cats inherit such adorable looks and certainly play up to their cuteness, dispelling all beliefs that cats are boring - Tom's singing habits and Jerry's ability to obey demands proved otherwise!
And, as I've mentioned here time and time again, my two new kittens, Bart and Benny, have only fuelled my cat-tastic love because they mean the world to me - literally! I'm always spending time with them whilst studying French, writing essays or engaging in my afternoon snacks of peanuts; being in the lovely company of cats and kittens only signals happiness for me, so I'm proud that I adore them so much!

4) Writing: Maximizing a skill is an activity deserving of being encouraged, right? And that is exactly the course of direction which my parents have steered me upon because they realized my passion for writing before I even fully comprehended it - and look where I am now!
As I upload new entries here and dedicate a generous amount of time to completing essays, many might deem me a part-time writer, though I wouldn't decline the offer of payment for my beloved hobby! But nothing could make a dent in my enjoyment of writing because it brings me piles upon piles of pleasure - an obsession worth appreciating unlike dreaming of a hard-to-afford handbag or wardrobe filled with Chanel's latest haute couture collection!
Right now, I wouldn't even think about giving up writing as I feel more confident and settled in my own skin, which is the driving force behind my relentless determination and passion to succeed in my tasks! I may do many things like baking cinnamon-coated snickerdoodles, secretly dancing to my favourite songs and winning a not-too-violent fight against my brother, but writing definitely claims the top spot on my list of favourite hobbies - and obsessions, if you really have to ask!

So, you won't need to ask twice about what makes me crazier than an boy band-loving fan, will you? I'm an obsessed teenager with too many passions to describe or even realize - and let's celebrate it!