Never ending supply of...

Seriously, come on world, I've done this sort of blog before and my wish has still not been granted. What the hell?

Ughh anyway. I don’t know what is happening recently. All my beauty products are running out! I must have bought a whole tonne of stuff around the same time or something because everything is mostly empty. Imagine: me left with no makeup. Scary indeed.

I wish I could have an endless supply of the essentials, because seriously, that would save me so much money. Most of the important stuff I use is a bit exxy so I would prefer to like, never have to work up the courage to drop my hard-earned dollars on this stuff again.

OR I could just buy it all in New York! Winner!

Products I wish would never run out, ever, that I can’t live without:

NP Set Pre-Foundation Pore Perfecting Primer

Maybelline Falsies Volum' Express Mascara

NP Set Liquid Veil in Buenos Aires

Bobbi Brown lipsticks in Nectar and Uber Pink

Bloom Sheer Colour Cream in Coy - amaze!

Taupey shimmery eyeshadow preferably Estee Lauder

Bobbi Brown Shimmer Brick in Pink Quartz

La Ligne de Chanel eyeliner

Napoleon China Doll Foundation

Estee Lauder Advanced Night Repair Serum - BEST. EVER.

NARS lipstick in Love Devotion

Jo Malone EDP in Lotus Blossom and Water Lily

YSL Touche Eclat. Der.

If only I could turn back tiiiime

So I’m reading Lainey’s blog this morning, as I do every weekday, and she made an illuminating point about Nicole Kidman. It’s sad that is so, so true:

“There is no art to saying someone looks like a pig. It’s not clever and it’s not original. There is, then, no intent here to snark on Nicole Kidman. The reason I’m saying she looks like a pig is because, well, she actually looks like a pig. She wasn’t, of course, born looking like a pig. She was born with lovely features. Lovely porcelain skin. Lovely eyes. A lovely nose. Her own lovely, thin lips.

Check out Nicole Kidman on the set of The Paperboy with Matthew McConaughey in New Orleans the other day. Without lighting, without makeup, look at how she’s f-cked with her face, look at all the work. Look at how all the work is working against itself to make her look worse. Look at how the fillers in her cheeks are pushing her eyes up and closer together, making them so beady. Look how that is affecting her nose, like a snout. And look how her lips, all three of them, injected so many times, squeeze around her teeth, so that they buck out front, an open mouth breather through the slop.”

And it got me thinking about how very, very beautiful she once was. For me, she was one of the greatest. Her natural beauty could rival Cate Blanchett’s. Post-divorce and post-Moulin Rouge she was downright heavenly. Can’t we go back to that?

Argh. Divine. I could pray at her feet. It made me so sad when she started messing with her shit. Why mess with perfection? Even sadder is how she can’t seem to stop. She’s going harder and more intense with the face stuff and I just want to shake her. What did SHE keep seeing in the mirror (which we all thought was not only fine, but truly amazing) that she thought needed work? To see her now is almost heartbreaking. I wish she could go back in time and correct her mistakes but would she even want to?

And now some pics that demonstrate what Lainey was talking and just how crappy she looks now, compared to then. Ahh. Silly woman.

Neeeew Yooork

So, I think I’m going to New York in October. I KNOW. So exciting. I have never been overseas before so am about to jump out my skin. Even though I am currently undergoing the arduous task of getting a new birth certificate (as my mother lost my original one) and applying for a new passport (I HATE FORMS) I am still undeterred.

However, all I can pretty much think about is NOT being reunited with Huna, my love and closest celebrity-gossip-sharing confidante; NOT experiencing the city that never sleeps and immersing myself in this fabulous culture that I’ve been hearing about since, like, forever; NOT meeting my family for the first time (although, admittedly, that IS pretty exciting) but about all the beauty products I want to buy.

I have serious problems. I am aware of this. BUT THEY ARE JUST SO CHEAP OVER THERE.

OPI? Cheap as chips in the old U.S. of A! MAC? Drugstore brand! NARS? A mere $24 for a lipstick! (c.f. $58 Australian…!) I think I’m hyperventilating. For someone who spends so much hard-earned cash on beauty products weekly, I feel like I’ll actually be SAVING money in New York. Or something. Math is hard.

I haven’t even MENTIONED the money I’ll save as I buy things from Topshop and Marc Jacobs! (I need a watch, for realz).

Look at all the famous landmarks I’ll be going to!

So is there anything else I should do/see in NY? That's pretty much it right? I got this covered.

Eminem

I've always liked Eminem, in a vague, back-of-my-conscience kinda way. Like, I knew his songs and I liked some of them and would listen to them randomly but then last week it was like BAM love/obsession ensued. This one didn't actually occur as suddenly as some of the others (Biebs, Tegan and Sara, Taylor Kitsch) as there was a few years of stable 'like' behind us, but still.

Nobody makes me oscillate so wildly between giggling hysterically and weeping while listening to a single album before. The end of 'Mockingbird'? Kills my life. A beautiful almost lullaby-like song ('Now hush little baby don't you cry...stiffen that upper lip little lady, I told ya Daddy's here to hold ya through the night' makes my heart squeeze in on itself) and then, the last verse:

And if that mockingbird don't sing,
And that ring don't shine, I'ma break that birdie's neck
I'd go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya,
And make him eat every carat, don't fuck with dad haha

So unexpected and so funny. Makes me el-oh-el every damn time. But as with all new obsessions, the time spent fantasising about how we would meet and fall in love takes up a big portion of my time.

With Eminem, I think a huge part of the attraction is how much he loves his kiddies. I work with kids, so I imagine being at a park or something nannying and he would see how good I am with children and even though he's a bit scary, he would like how sweet and cool I am and his littlest daughter would be drawn to me in the way random kids often are (seriously, I don't know what it is about me, they effing love me and approach me on the street) and we would keep seeing each other in different social situations (where? in Detroit? I haven't ironed out the details). But I would keep my distance because, like I said, he's a bit scary, but really he'd be like a teddy bear and totally into me but still all sexy and protective. However, I would be sure to maintain/feign my cool and not pressure him or anything and things would progress naturally and BOOM we are in love.

I know, it needs more work. But I keep getting distracted imagining him looking like this:

And watching videos like this:

I mean, right?!

Most tellingly re: this obsession and how deeply affected I am is how much I FUCKING. LOVE. the song 'Shake That'. Everything about this song should make me hate it and be offended as a woman and, like, a human. But I don't. Behold, the song + lyrics. Enjoy (you know you will even though you won't want to):