Alexander Wang's almost office wear

I know what you're thinking. It's 24 days into the new year so why is this chick scribbling out seasonal stuff still. Indulge me please. Just thrice. Because my festive funtimes were stolen from me in daylight broader than Dawn French's hips by non other than King's College London. The last day of the year always has me feeling funny, the evenings never live up to your high expectations and I always feel pressured to do something memorably awesome. This year, being a bitter relocated child (I am 19 not 9 but please don't tell my parents that, I still leave carrots out for Rudolf and a tiny corner of my left atrium  clings to the idea that a large round man rides around the world on a sleigh) I was far from both homeslices and university chums. Torn like Natalie Imbruglia between heading to the lakes to its cider soaked floors and the racist farmers stuck to them, or twentytwelving it in Londres I decided that I'd stay in Manchester and yank my closest of close out with me. Last year as the clock struck twelve I was sipping on a gin I'd spiked with lemsip (wild), sniffling as I listened to a drunk Tina Turner impersonator in my local pub. I'd promised myself that next year would be different, but come the 31st of December found myself thinking that sequin-clad Tina Turner enthusiasts have a certain charm non?
We ended up sipping champers in an underground bare-brick-walls sort of affair. Talking about 2011s successes and failures and 2012s hopes and fears. I won't bore you with mine apart from this aesthetically pleasing one, I hope my future has some Alexander Wang in it...

 

Pre-Fall 2012