recently my days have revolved around keeping up appearances on uk gold. i'm such a sucker for hyacinth bucket's brand of endearingly unfunny but delightful middle english snobbery (though i'm glad no immigrants or black people feature or things could rapidly turn more sinister).
and wow, look how trendy hyacinth's promiscuous sister rose is! floral prints, pre-aa pencil skirt combos, stonewashed high-waisted denim shorts and non-ironic gold jewellery. ledge m8.
i'm fascinated and a bit in love with this kind of unpretentiously pretentious (lol) suburban world even if it doesn't actually exist, and (to seamlessly relate this to something irrelevant that makes me hate my life right now) especially compared to the types of gross kids i keep encountering who look a bit edgy but are casually conservative. i never realised before moving to london how much of the ~creative world~ is secretly posh. plotting how to outdo the barker-finches at villa costa blanca and get back at lydia hawksworth for calling your kiwi fruit lower-middle class is so much more acceptable than taking banging hi contrast photos, trust fund squatting then voting boris.
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