Fashion Week Tea From London Fashion Week SS20

It's day one of London Fashion Week SS20 (Spring/Summer 2020) and, on a foot with a potentially broken baby toe (I fell down a stairs the night before in my friend's apartment as it was incredibly dark and the stairwell is next to a very narrow landing), I rush in for my first show of the season. I somehow make it with fifteen minutes to spare – an eternity in the fashion world where things nearly always run late – and join the dishearteningly long queue but I don't think about it too deeply, as surely they know best about how many people to invite? Wrong. They, in fact, do no know best, as we quickly realise when the one, very small and sweet and polite young woman being sent to man the ever-growing queue tells the majority of us that the show is at capacity and none of the rest of us will be getting in. Unwilling to observe people with egos berate this lovely woman who is only doing her job, I immediately duck out of the queue and into a nearby cafe for a nice breakfast. What's the point in being annoyed? It's not going to change anything and it's just fashion, it's not that serious. Lining my stomach with delicious food will make things infinitely better.

Models at the Nensi Dojaka SS20 presentation.

Next, I hit up a presentation in which models in very cool and daring lingerie-inspired dresses wander the room, selfie-sticks in hand, looking listless and generally reflecting a message of caution towards contemporary behaviours and attitudes in a digital era. One of the models carries bundles of printouts of photos of another model that are spewing from a printer in the corner. I register this peripherally as I am at work trying to get “the shots”, on a time crunch. I do not register the model approach me, something that I have never experienced at a presentation before (A/N: presentations are an alternative to fashion shows in which models are dressed in the collection and allowed to roam a space for several hours, either simply posing or acting in some way to adhere to the theme of a collection). She comes at me with a print-out and I gasp-scream before chuckling in embarrassment (no one makes eye contact or laughs with me, despite the fact that I am surrounded by other attendees of the presentation) and meekly accepting the page. The model, God bless her, is a complete professional and doesn't even blink in surprise, continuing on her merry way. Thankfully, I have an out as I need to get to another show, so I scamper away.

Gayeon Lee SS20.

At said other show, I have trouble finding my seat, which is odd, as there are finite, labelled options of seats and I can read. I go back and forth along the row of seats before asking for help. The sincere and lovely young attendant that I ask, however, quickly proves to not be very good at her job. She is as lost as I. On an amusing note, when she gets her hands on an i-Pad to look up the seating arrangement, I notice that I am listed in the database with a picture of the television broadcaster by the same name.I fail to get a photo of this but it makes me laugh and I wish I had. (They must have just googled my name and not looked into it to make sure they had the right Colette Fitzpatrick?) Eventually, it becomes apparent that someone has stolen my seat. Another attendant, who is much more on top of things, tells me to do the same so I squeeze in between two people and ensure I get my hands on a giftbag – look, I was given a front row ticket and there was a damned cute hat in the bag, I was simply getting what I was promised.

Sharon Wauchob SS20.

Upon leaving the show, I make my way to Foyle's, the famous London bookstore, for my next show. I try, and fail, to resist the temptation of being in a bookshop and buy three books to add to the stack of books in my room that I have yet to read. When I get to the show itself I am immediately surprised by the increase in the number of people with zero fashion week etiquette, including professionals. It's always been an issue that bloggers, students, and randos invited along don't get the etiquette. They don't seem to grasp that everyone is there trying to get their shot, that a lot of the people are there to work, and that they need to get that shot in order to get paid. I see lots of people hogging prime spots to have a chat, which is simply rude. The etiquette, as I've observed it, is to wait your turn, get your shot as quickly as possible and then to step aside for the next person to do the same. The number of people ignoring, or ignorant to, this, seems to have increased exponentially since last season. I also observe similarly rude behaviour among the photographers this season, which is surprising. They're normally the very people that you can count on to get it! I don't know if it's because the market is so saturated and getting “the shot” makes it easier for you to sell your images over another photographer or if there are just more photographers that are very green getting involved but it was sad (and very frustrating) to witness. Irritated as I am, I leave once I've seen everything once, even though the usual bonus of a presentation is being able to carefully take in pieces and all their details. Rudeness is my Kryptonite so I have to split before I get so huffy (because, of course, I won't actually say anything), I knock myself out from a lack of oxygen.

Lark & Berry rings.

On the second day of London Fashion Week, my true love gave to me...sorry, no, wrong song, different tune. But I do get a free ear piercing at Lark & Berry, which is pretty good. Some fashion week glamour rearing it's expertly groomed and styled head. The brand is really interesting, using cultured diamonds and gems (i.e. Lab-grown, did you know that was a thing? I didn't) and maintaining incredible transparency about their practices. Their gold is ethically sourced, too, and they plant five trees for every piece sold. They also treat me kindly, even though I'm aware (as fashion week consistently reminds me), that I'm a nobody in the industry (that's fine, I'm a somebody in my free time so I can't cope with a little bit of ego-testing). At the very next thing I go to, however, I'm booted from my seat in the frow when a more important person arrives late. I'm not the only one it happens to and I don't take it personally but it stings a little. The collection is v good though, I just wish I asked the name of the girl I was chatting to before being escorted to my new (much less good) seat as it's rare enough to talk to someone nice at fashion week, someone who isn't trying to figure out if you're important enough to waste their time on.

Riona Treacy SS20.

The middle section of day two flattens and, aside from the Riona Treacy presentation, nothing is especially memorable. Fashion week is one long clamour of thousands of voices to be seen and heard and, unfortunately, not everyone can be. It's an exhausting energy to be around and makes me feel sad for people who place too much of their self-worth in it all. I also manage to go to the wrong show when I'm pointed the wrong way but manage to figure it out at the last minute and grab my seat. This time I'm not kicked out of the front row and the THISNORTHAT collection is a wonderfully cool palate-cleanser after a rather forgettable afternoon.

Simone Rocha SS20

Summer returns in full force for day three and I am forced to abandon the outfit of lace and velvet that I had packed specially for the Simone Rocha show. I battle through the hot underground and am glad I chose to change; when you're a regular pleb, there is too much use of public transport to allow for the perfectly turned-out looks of street style fame. The first show of the day is another that I don't find especially noteworthy, something that increasingly weighs on my mind as it feels more and more important not to put our planet under the burden of making things that aren't necessary or extraordinary. There is no longer room for that which is just "okay". The mad schlep out to Alexandra Palace for the Simone Rocha show exemplifies this. These are clothes that needed to be born. These clothes make the world sparkly and magic. These clothes are works of art that were well-worth the panicked combo of tube-train-bus and hour-and-a-half-commute-that-many-of-us-thought-left-us-with-plenty-of-time. We were wrong. More fashion week sweating ensued. But, as I say, it is worth it. I quiver with excitement throughout the whole show. Afterwards, Galway Now's very own Blathnait, who I haven't met again since a brief encounter years ago and not since beginning working with the magazine, and I finally reunite. We bump in Sinead Burke and, somehow, we end up talking about Peig Sayers on acid. The meeting and the show leave me buzzing so much that the next, once again, somewhat underwhelming show doesn't stop me from having trouble falling asleep for all of the ideas racing around in my well-stimulated brain.

Finally, I finish with the Paul Costelloe show, as is often the case for me, sadly missing Katie Ann McGuigan and Colin Horgan's shows as I don't plan to stay for the Tuesday. It's a fashion week rule: if you stay the extra day, nothing is on. If you leave, you miss something exciting. Thankfully, though, Paul is a great note to end things on. The collection is joyous and, of course, at the show teeming with fellow Irish folks, there is no shortage of kindness. I actually manage to miss my show at half eleven but there is another at twelve and the attendants all wave it off as nothing, assuring me they'll squeeze me in. They do just that and though the party vibes and social atmosphere border on rude at times (lack of that etiquette again; three ladies chatting on the runway had to be told to sit down after the lights dimmed and music cut out and everyone else cleared the way), I can't help be glad of the guaranteed kindness of this show to ensure fashion week always ends on a very positive note for me. In this case, there is no more tea to be spilled, and, sure, isn't that as well? Tea is to be savoured, with good people, not wasted.

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5 Minimal Waste Cruelty-Free Irish Beauty Products That I'm Loving Right Now

As I mentioned a while back, I have had a wild ride of utterly reevaluating consumption, blogging, and my personal responsibility to the environment. Stepping back and really looking at how I'd been going about things and taking stock for a moment made me realise that beauty blogging and fashion blogging, in the traditional sense that I had grown used to, were no longer possible for me. 

Basically, I stopped shopping except when necessary, shopped the stash of untouched products that had piled up in my house instead of going out for anything when possible, and made sure that I bought only sustainable, minimal waste items when I did need to get something. I replaced my toothbrush (once it was at the end of its life) with a wooden brush (three times by now), stopped buying traditional toothpaste (those tubes are not at all recyclable), switched to a reusable razor for shaving, and slowly changed everything that was on my bathroom shelf.

The biggest change, though, was simply not buying things. And this meant that I no longer had things to review all the time. Ergo, no real beauty posts for months beyond the less glamorous and more practical articles I have written about the experience of switching to more sustainable basic grooming options. Until today, when, after around half a year, I have finally accumulated five (the necessary minimum number for any listicle worth it's salt, obvs) beauty products worth talking about. All are cruelty-free (a pre-existing stance when it comes to products that I have maintained for years now), all are Irish (to reduce my carbon footprint and air miles), and all are made of either entirely, or almost entirely, recyclable materials. I still prefer refillable products when possible (brands, can you get on this?!) but these guys are the next best thing given the market we're in. Here are 5 Minimal Waste Cruelty-Free Irish Beauty Products That I'm Loving Right Now...

1. We Are Paradoxx Hangover Hair Elixir, 75ml, RRP €35.00

Look, I won't lie, this guy is pricey and I was totes initially suckered in by the packaging. That being said, I swear by hair oils and this is one of the better ones that I have tried. As someone who cannot go a day without washing their hair, I need the extra moisture and not only does this deliver that, but it also leaves a nice glossy finish and a lovely warm and sweet scent. It is also: "Clean, 100% toxin-free, organic + natural extracts, vegan, 90% plastic-free, paraben, perfume free, cruelty-free, ethical + sustainable, gluten-free, synthetic fragrance-free, eco-friendly, mineral oil-free, SLES + SLS free." And, as they note on the packaging, a little really does go a loooong way. Plus, come on, that's some damn cute packaging! Although I've gotten a few weird looks at the gym for pulling out what looks like a hip flask in the changing rooms...

2. Mungo Murphy's Nourishing Seaweed Mask, 20g (approx 5 uses), RRP €10.60

Admittedly, with this bad boy and it being a face mask, I haven't used it for the consistent two month minimum required before I normally talk about skincare. However, it's great! It calms the skin (and mine is currently super cross and covered in hormonal breakouts in the chin region), balances it out, moisturises, and leaves your face feeling soft and springy. Made from powdered seaweed, it comes in a small jar (no plastic in sight) and you take one teaspoon of it and add either add one teaspoon of water, natural yoghurt, or honey. I recommend honey for the consistency (water makes it very watery indeed) and to improve the experience as, I'm not gonna lie, it doesn't smell pleasant when you have it on but, if you get a little in your mouth (as I am prone to do) when it's mixed with honey it doesn't taste half bad, which makes the whole thing less unpleasant. 

3. Cloon Keen Perfumed Candle in Antique Library, 55-60 hours burn time, RRP €40.00

I actually met the Cloon Keen gang in their Galway store at an event a few years ago and got this candle as a press sample and fell in love with the warm, spicy, masculine scent. That candle was quickly used long, long ago and I decided to buy it again a few weeks ago as it had been over a year since I'd bought or had a scented candle. I allowed myself the treat and, boy, am I glad I did. My room feels instantly more elegant and cosy with this sucker going in the background. An Irish candle, rather than one that had to be imported, handmade in small batches, and packaged in glass and cardboard, it isn't going to leave too much of a mess behind or too much of a carbon footprint either comparatively. Excellent all around.

4. Inchydoney Soap in Lemon, RRP €6.00

Made in Cork, these lovely soaps are handmade by the owner, Louise, in an old cowshed on her family's farm with environmental impact firmly in mind. This lemon scented one is super-fresh smelling and is what I use in the shower, now that I have long-since abandoned shower gels and their plastic bottles.

5. Clarke's Of Dublin, Helping Hand Cedarwood & Sea Salt Soap, RRP €8.50

Going even more local, this lovely and super-clean smelling soap is 100% natural, hand poured, and hand cut using traditional methods in Dublin. It also boasts the finest natural ingredients sourced in Ireland, such as Offaly goats milk, Donegal seaweed, beeswax from Meath and Irish spring water. The Achill sea salt inside is designed to gently exfoliate. All in all, a kind of dream team combo of Irish products to make one rather excellent soap.

So, if you're trying to do your bit for our planet, you may need to slow down the consumption and make some changes but you don't have to miss out on little luxuries entirely, just be conscious and source them carefully. And in Ireland we're pretty damn lucky as there are plenty of people making some great beauty products with the earth in mind.

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I Bought My First Bikini* - Why That Matters And Why It Doesn't

(*in a long damn time)

A few months ago, when talking to my best friend about my fitness journey, I casually noted that I previously had been deeply ashamed of my body and I saw her sharp intake of breath in shock and her eyes fill up with utter sadness and hurt. I thought nothing of hating myself but she, being one of the people who loves me most, was incredibly pained by the cavalier way in which I talked about being cruel to her best friend. It gave me pause to acknowledge how fucked up my way of thinking had been and made me love her a little more for how much my suffering clearly affected her. I mean, obviously, I already loved her but the people who cry for your pain as if it is their own are the real keepers in life; remember this.

In many ways, when I started out with tackling my on-going issues with how I looked, I was going about, and thinking about, things in completely the wrong way. My value systems were completely messed up and favoured aesthetics and societal pressure over taking care of the only vessel I have, or will ever have, to occupy in this life. As time went on and I moved on from eating slightly better and walking home from work everyday, to mild exercise, to being able to run 5km in under thirty minutes, to running and doing circuits multiple times a week, I felt my body change. Firstly, my anxiety chilled the fuck out in a serious way. Then I felt more energetic. Then I noticed muscles I never knew I had. Everything got easier. I was fit for the first time since I was an actual child and it all became about being fit, about being strong, about being able to do all the things I wanted to do, and about being healthy and investing in myself and some longevity. 

However, it's not like I suddenly forgot all about wanting to look different and I'd be lying if I didn't enjoy the reappearance of my cheekbones, my clothes fitting better, and not having to worry about people seeing the hidden shame that I felt my torso to be. But that was all just a bonus. What did really change was how I weighted the importance of, and how much less brain space I devoted to, worrying about how my body looks. I still don't have a "perfect" body and do you know what? I don't give a shit. I recently went running with my dad on the roads around our family home and as I am pretty much an (less determined, less innately kind, less good) exact little replica of him, I'm also a serious sweater when I exercise. So, as it was a hot day, I (me, yes, me) went running in public in a (double-layer because my tits came in real strong at 13) sports bra and leggings. I didn't cover up with a baggy hoody. I knew that I still have some belly fat that I'm self-conscious about, that won't budge, and, yet, loves to jiggle around, but I said, "Screw it." I don't owe it to anyone, including myself, to have a "perfect" body. Pretty much everyone else but me cares very little about how "perfect" my body is. And it was hot and I sweat a lot. So, fuck it.

In a similar vein, I recently bought my first bikini since that one time in college I had an aneurism and I thought that the high-waisted bikini sets advertised so appealingly in American Apparel would make me suddenly skinny and hide my multitude of sins with their high-waistedness. Spoiler: They did not. And so the suit was relegated to the bottom of my bra drawer. Since then, I have worn one-piece suits exclusively and felt very uncomfortable even with their relative and comparative amount of cover/protection/safety blanket. As a person that partially defines themselves by their sense of style, clothes have always been a shield but swimsuits have not allowed me to make the edits and flourishes with my body where I want to. Swimsuits don't play by the regular rules of the game of hide and reveal of clothes. But now, now that I care less about owing it to others or myself to look a certain way, and now that I am proud of how I have honed my body through time and sweat and commitment, and now that I don't feel the desperate need to hide myself like some dirty secret, I bit the bullet and thought I'd try it one more time. I still got something simple, functional, made out of recycled polyester and made for swimming and climbing and jumping and not just posing but it bears a flash of very noticeable shocking whiter-than-white Irish skin around my torso that can't be missed. 

I don't look perfect it in but I don't need to and I don't need to own that imperfection either. As Editor of Irish Tatler magazine, Sarah Macken noted in piece in the most recent issue of the aforementioned publication, it is great to see people who provide a beautiful alternative to the traditionally media and societal defined ideal "beach body", but some of us can also just have bodies that are ours and not a political statement. Some of us are out there changing the world but some of us can also just be. So, I'm going to be in my new bikini, around the people who love me; around a mother who is simply glad we are all healthy, a father who is proud that I've taken control of my life, siblings made of almost all the same stuff as me who don't give an eff about how I look. It's not going to be motivational or a statement (because who needs another white, middle-class, able-bodied, cis-gender, conventionally not unattractive woman in her twenties complaining about a little excess fat around her middle or trying to hijack the body-positivity movement that is far more needed, and better represented, by others?!), it's just going to be me on my personal journey, being. 

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Bar Shampoo, Brushing Your Teeth With Dirt And Other Failures And Successes In Making A Zero-Waste Beauty Routine 2019

A few weeks ago I wrote about the changes that would happen on this blog and the ways in which I had changed, myself, in how I related to objects and consumption. I have drastically altered the way in which I buy and use beauty products, in particular, as I try to consume in a more sustainable and ethical way and it has lead to some ... interesting ... experiments, results, and failures.

I. Buying Less

This is the most important change in my routine and the most crucial for anyone trying to consume more responsibly. Buying less is the easiest way to be kinder to the planet as it uses less resources to make, package, and deliver products and leaves you with less waste afterwards. Many of us buy things without even thinking about it, not entirely finishing something before moving on to the next thing, abandoning one product for something we've seen used or advertised. However, in an attempt to correct my chaotic overconsumption in the past, I've been buying only what is absolutely necessary in my routine. This has also simplified my routine. No more random skincare items infused with the trendy ingredient of the moment or some gimmicky fad but, rather, only the basics: cleanser, toner, serum, moisturiser, sun cream. And you'd better believe I'm cutting things open and using every last drop.

II. Shopping My Stash

Continuing on from buying less, I've also been rooting through presses and drawers and rediscovering things I forgot I had and making sure to finish them all. Something I was already doing, it has been further bolstered by the inspiration of Estée Laundry's daily #shopmystash posts in which the self-described "anonymous beauty collective" shares followers' pictures of the products in their routines and how they are doing with their own journeys towards being more sustainable. Also, for independent, unbiased information about beauty brands, beauty news, discussion about diversity and ethics in the industry, deep dives into various trends and issues, and more, you should give EL a follow as they are one of the most important pages atm for anyone interested in the area.

III. Bar Shampoo

I noted my attempts to switch out products for items with less or no packaging over on Bean a while ago. One of my first trials was the switch to bar shampoo from Palm Free Irish Soap. In theory, it's perfect, right? No packaging at all, relatively cheap, long-lasting, and it smelled nice. However, sadly, it was a case of something being too good to be true. 

Now, perhaps, if you have some sort of different hair texture, bar shampoo might work for you. Maybe if you wash your hair less often than me, if might work for you. Maybe if you're a more meticulous person, it might work for you. But from day one I hated the bar shampoo and it clearly hated me in return. On first use I lathered too much and I couldn't wash it all out. I thought I had been thorough in rinsing but the horrid, greasy mess I woke up to said otherwise.

Moving forwards, I used less and less of the product with each wash and that yielded better results but it still drastically affected my hair. Prior to bar shampoo, my hair was incredible; soft, silky, and impossibly shiny. When I brushed it, my friends would marvel and say it was shampoo commercial hair. Only now is it returning back to that state, a month after abandoning my bar in favour of refillable shampoo in glass bottles from The Glass Dispensary. 

Great in theory, in reality bar shampoo just isn't an option for lots of us, particularly those with lots and lots of very fine long hair that requires daily washing. However, the Glass Dispensary's refillable bottles are a great alternative and mean that you still aren't generating any waste. 

Oh, and don't worry, I didn't just throw away the shampoo bar. It still smells nice so I used it as regular soap instead.

IV. Brushing Your Teeth With Dirt

Okay, so I obviously wasn't actually brushing my teeth with dirt but another of my swaps was for toothpaste. Toothpaste tubes and the difficulty in recycling them really, really triggers my anxiety. I don't know why it is so especially strong for this particular item but it is. Therefore, it had to be one of the things I focused on finding an alternative for. 

Years ago, I used Lush's toothpaste tabs - which are little tablets you chew up and then add water to with a wet toothbrush - but I really hated the texture and never went back to them. In an attempt to find a better alternative, I tried Georganics' glass toothpaste pots. A natural toothpaste, the texture is a bit different to your regular toothpaste, more crumbly and drier. Pair this with the fact that I was using the charcoal variety in their range and you might be able to see why it felt as though I was brushing my teeth with dirt. It's great for whitening and does a decent job cleaning but I really missed feeling minty fresh while using it. Plus, I dreaded the texture and hated using it. It made brushing my teeth a real chore. I want to try the peppermint flavour next and see if that is any better but I have to say that it's not my favourite experience I've ever had, overall. With few better options, however, I guess I'll just have to learn to put up with it all. 

V.  Getting Rid Of Disposable Cotton Rounds

This, I think, has been my most successful swap. I have traded disposable cotton rounds for reusable ones and they're great. I've heard of others not liking them but I tried them anyway and I'm into it. I actually think they drink up less of my toner, allowing me to use more and waste less of it, stretching out the life of that product too. They are also pretty low maintenance and my pack of five is perfect for using a side each night and then throwing however many I've used in the wash with my clothes. I always having some clean ones lying about and never have to worry about running out. 

Progress(?)

All of this has been a bit of a learning curve for me and I'm always trying to find more sustainable options and do better. While some of the experiments that I have undergone on this journey have been vaguely disastrous or unpleasant, I do think I owe it to the planet to go through a little discomfort. In the grand scheme of things, it's not that big of a deal or that much of a sacrifice. And, perhaps, you can use my experiences and anecdotes to help yourself get started too...except with some things to keep in mind and avoid.

Let's all do our best and try to be better!

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Where I've Bean: Introducing Bean Magazine

No posts in May. (Until now) It's disgraceful.

I'm aware.

But I have a good excuse. I swear: I founded a magazine/website, Bean Magazine, with a bunch of my friends, some incredibly talented women that I love and admire.

Well, I tell a lie. I founded the magazine back in February but it finally went online this month and it has taken up all of my spare time. I designed the logo, built the site, proof-read the articles, published them and did the social media...all while writing my own, having a day job and trying to have a life. So, I've been busy.

Excuses, excuses, I know and balance is coming, which will mean I'll be back on here more but, for now, you can head to Bean for more content. The content that has been absent from here.

But what is Bean Magazine?

It is an all-woman team of writers creating content for women in Ireland. It aims to be a source of fun, escapism and joy but all the while having a heart and soul. So, there'll be lots of fun, interesting content but also some serious topics, lots of women's issues and plenty of tips and tricks on how to live a happier, healthier life. There will be all sorts of topics covered from food to fashion, art to television, beauty to travel and more.

Most of all, we want Bean to be a community. We don't want to just talk at people. We want to talk to people. And hear back from them. And get them involved, so we'll have a submit page where you can get involved too. If this sounds like your thing, consider getting involved, we'd love to have you on board!

We want to encourage fun, passion, joy and have a space where the maddest thing you've always wanted to write but never have found a space for can finally find a home, where you can share a love of writing you might not have been able to indulge, where you can voice an opinion or a frustration you've never been able to get out there and where you can be heard.

Welcome to Bean Magazine, we're very excited to have you!

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A Farewell from one Colette to another: 24 Hours In Paris

"Fuck it. Why not?"

It's been a year of that for me. Saying yes. Living in the moment. Spending my time outside, with friends and family and great people, all the time, instead of at home being a reclusive nerd. It was exhausting at times, I'll admit, but it was endlessly rewarding. I'll likely calm down in the New Year (about damn time) and not plan out every second of my life but I don't regret living that way for a year. I've strengthened bonds and done fun things and been new places and, sometimes, I've been spontaneous in the way that I've always wanted to be. Which is how I ended up booking a 24 hour trip to Paris, simply to say goodbye to a clothing store.

Colette closes its doors for good tomorrow and when I found that out, I was impossibly sad. It was the end of the era. The end of one of the coolest boutiques the world has ever known. I was never going to take another goofy photo underneath the sign, pointing up and grinning over our shared names. I would never again marvel over cool things I couldn't afford in the store or pick out a magazine from the incredibly hip curation of publications or wonder if getting one of the lucky bags was worth it. I wouldn't get to say goodbye.

I briefly entertained flying in for a visit to say my farewells but a browse of the websites of the airlines connecting Paris and Dublin made it apparent that it would be far too expensive. I moved on with my day, gradually coming to think that the whole idea was silly in the first place. Flying into another country for a day to say goodbye to a shop? What kind of madness was that? I forgot about the whole thing.

Then, some weeks later, Ryanair announced a sale on their site and I looked again, out of curiosity. 56 quid return journey. Doable. The price of taking a train to Galway for a night...I contacted a friend to see if he could put me up for the night and, suddenly, an hour later, my mad trip to Paris to say goodbye to a clothing store with the same name as me was happening.

When I told people, they frowned in confusion or laughed and waved a hand at me like, 'Oh, Colette, you're so silly'. My best and most supportive friend cheered me on for going for it. I didn't really care either way. It was something I wanted to do and I hated the idea of the store being gone forever and my regret at never having seen it again, at not being able to change that if I didn't go for it, at not being brave enough to say, "Fuck it. Why not?" one last time this year.

Cue Thursday last week and landing at Beauvais just before 11. I cursed Beauvais many times over the trip (as I always do, that goddamn shed) and flying there did cause several ordeals, even if it was the only viable option. An hour's bus to Paris, the confusion of trying to remember where the Metro station was at Porte Maillot, being mistaken for a local by several people who tried to ask me for directions in French, shaking my head wildly as I tried to remember what French hasn't melted out my ears over the years, finding the Metro, planning a route, discovering my stop was closed, getting off a the next stop in a panic, being unsure of how to proceed, stumbling across some Brits who turned out to be going the same way and finally ending up at my friend's house.

After all of that panicking, said friend welcomed me with Champagne (he'd gone to an acquaintance's vineyard and stocked up over the summer - as one does), fresh pastries and hours of conversation, despite the fact that we hadn't actually seen each other in years and the fact that he had work in the morning. While the whole trip was a little mad and fun and I got to hang around in Paris instead of going to work on a Friday, it was the people that made it for me.

When we finally went to sleep, I told him to wake me when he was leaving for work so I could say goodbye and thank again but the sweet baby angel that he is, he left me to sleep on until friend number two arrived. Said friend number two then acted as my guide for the day, having lived in the city for several years now. We rounded the corner and breakfasted outside with pastries and coffee (well, tea for me) as French schoolchildren shouted what English they could think of at us. So began one of the few times I've had 8 or more hours of unadulterated catch-up time with a pal as an adult and it was beautiful. It always is. You get to topics normally never broached and ideas you've barely ever even voiced to yourself before. We talked and walked all day so that, by the end of it, we were both hoarse and almost hobbling but it was worth it.

After exploring for an hour, we headed to Colette. It was abuzz with people though it has only just opened for the day but I expected as much. This was always the case, even when it wasn't days from closing permanently. We dashed around and I picked up a limited edition tee and a Glossier Cloud Paint (in Haze) and a small present for my blog wife. We marvelled at the Saint Laurent roller-skate heels and the courtyard full of Christmas trees and the cool books and wildly expensive things that we couldn't even identify. I got my last picture in front, though the name had been removed from over the door so I had to pose with the word "Colette" painted low on the window, between my legs. That, in of itself, was gas though and we laughed as people looked on, confused. I have few photos of myself where I'm genuinely laughing that I don't hate and while this one is definitely goofy, I quite like it.

After visiting the store, we went to the Medieval quarter of the city, Le Marais, strolling past the Pompidou, and had falafel in the place across the road from the "best in the world", as it didn't have a line, is apparently just as good (my friend had tried both) and the people inside weren't being as damn pushy. Then we wandered some more shops and the area more before heading to the Louvre. I really wanted to go to the Dior exhibition there but there was a two hour line and we were running short on time so, instead, we just went to the gallery proper. I had never been before and was pretty excited but we were exhausted by this point and each kept whining about our feet being tired. Despite this, it was fun to wander around, discuss art (and my favourite debate topic of the moment: Can memes be art?), and see the Venus de Milo, Da Vinci's "Virgin of the Rocks" (my favourite) and Raphael's "Baldassare Castiglione" IRL.

Then, sadly, time had well and truly run away from us and it was time to say goodbye so I got some food, headed back to Beauvais (ugh), stocked up on some Champagne in duty-free (yay) and embarrassed myself by trying to use my very poor Korean to tell the girl queueing in front of me that her bag was super cute (double ugh) and began the long-ass trip home.

Over in the blink of an eye but well worth it! I said my goodbye to a beautiful store that I loved, sure, and that was the reason for the trip but I got a lot more from it. Fondest memories were made and I was the kind of spontaneous that I normally only see in the (far too many) movies I have watched growing up. Life can actually be quite grand and magical in its own little ways sometimes, as long as you embrace it and just say, "Fuck it. Why not?"

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Having A Snoop At Another Beauty Blogger's Handbag Essentials - Emma of Ol' Green Eyes

Blogging isn't the friendliest scene in Dublin. I've never, personally, had a bad experience and get along with everyone but I have witnessed nastiness and I had never made any close friends that are bloggers. I'm friendly with lots of people but there wasn't anyone that I had clicked with or knew well and that was partly my own fault for being too shy to put myself out there more.

And then, one event, I ended up talking to Emma of Ol' Green Eyes. We had often hung out at events before and I genuinely really liked her and whatever got into me that day, I did put myself out there: I asked her if she wanted to hang out sometime. This doesn't seem like that big a deal but making new friends as an adult isn't easy! She agreed, we went for coffee and I put forward the idea of doing a collab, which is how we ended up in Dublin's trendiest new eatery and bar with both of our makeup bags spilled out across the table.

Both curious about Roberta's, we headed there last week to grab a cocktail and some fries (Lesson learned: they may give you fries to snack on with your drinks so hold off on ordering unless you want to end up with three portions, like us. If you do want that, go ahead.) and compare our handbag essentials. I mean, who doesn't enjoy a creep at what others deem must-haves, right?

Once we had our food and drinks and had chatted a bit, Emma started unpacking her products and spreading them out before us in an aesthetically pleasing manner, much to the amusement of our very friendly waitress. I immediately spotted Escentric's Molecule 01 perfume and had many questions. Did it really smell different on different people? (A little, apparently) Could you really not smell it on yourself? (Only immediately after application for a while) And most importantly: Is it worth the hype? According to Emma, her whole office had it first and she kept asking what they were wearing, loving it. Then she gave in and bought the (much more reasonable/affordable) refillable 30ml bottle, only to be met by others grabbing her wrist and wondering what she, too, was wearing. So, not hype without fire then. While it is one of her go-to scents now, she does admit that it is partially only in her bag atm because of its handy size.

Another non-makeup essential that Emma totes around is Rituals' Indian Rose and Sweet Almond hand cream. Ritual is one of her favourite bodycare brands as it stands but this is an essential. Not only does it smell delicious (and it does) but she swears by its effectiveness. In fact, after flying to New York recently and washing her hands with the harsh soap on the plane multiple times, they were in need of some TLC and her first stop upon landing was the Rituals store.

If we're talking lifesavers and skincare rescues, then YSL's Lip Perfector needs a mention as it is another item Emma swears by. In fact, in the slew of lip products (why does every beauty blogger always have, like, ten lip products on them at any given time - this coming from someone who doesn't wear much makeup very often and who still does the same?), this was the key item. Under matte lip products, it is a lifesaver and as a lip balm, it is perfect. Plus, Emma says she uses it at least twice a day and has been using the same tube since last year - that's some long-lasting product!

Emma is a woman after my own heart in many ways and doesn't like to have to re-do her whole face on the go. Instead, she tries to ease the process of makeup wearing off over the course of the day. As such, many of her must-haves were key to preserving and cleaning up makeup. For sorting out oiliness, she swears by Essence's oil paper that may come in a tatty little cardboard box but does exactly what it needs to and for just over a euro. After stealing it from her sister constantly, she began to carry some around all the time and has yet to be swayed by any more expensive alternatives. A bargain and effective? The dream, right? Finally, Emma has only recently discovered Mac's iconic Fix + and has fallen in love. She uses it to revive her face and makeup throughout the day and says she totally gets the hype now.

There was plenty of other stuff in Emma's makeup bag to rummage through - Mac's Lady Danger and a genius lip brush from Sephora, among other things - but the above items were the ones that seemed really to be her ride or die products. And once we had adequately made a show of ourselves photographing the place and endless beauty products we had covering the table, we finished all of the fries and swanned out of there, a little bit closer for having revealed our deepest, not-so-darkest beauty secrets.

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Wide-Eyed And Travel: 36 Hours In Cork

I am surrounded by great people, by people I love dearly and have a fantastic gang of friends and family. Much as I enjoy being in the midst of these groups of wonderful human beings, I am also a big fan of one-on-one quality time. Hard as it can be, I try my best to make sure and set aside time with my favourite people - no easy feat when I have so many. Cara - my college best friend, former housemate and wifey - and I had been talking about going away together, just us two, for ages. And finally, last weekend, we made it happen with 36 hours in Cork.

Despite the bus strikes and wildly increased train fares, we managed to make it down to Cork at just after eleven on the Saturday and, luckily, were able to check into the lovely Montenotte Hotel early. After dropping off our bags, showering and changing (neither of us expected it to be quite so hot), I was drying my hair when I got a text from our bus company saying that, because of the strikes and intimidation from drivers from other services, our bus back the next day was cancelled. Thankfully, we were able to resolve this relatively quickly and find an alternative service home but that twenty minute window of stress wasn't fun. Great way to kick off a weekend of relaxation! But we were determined not to let the whole mess ruin our entire weekend.

We hopped along to the English Market to browse the market itself and to grab lunch as I was getting hangry and that's really not a good look on me. Situated in the stunning historic market, upstairs above the central fountain and stalls, is the Farmgate Café, The Farmgate is over thirty years old and has two locations - one in Midleton and one in Cork City - and serves traditional, seasonal, regional and centuries old food. It is one of Cork's culinary constants and did not disappoint. After all the running around, travelling and panicking, I cannot overstate just how good it was to be digging into perfectly cooked hake and vegetables and sipping on an Aperol Spritz (with a little umbrella that they added and made us giggle!) on a balcony overlooking the sunny English Market.

Refuelled and happy, we wandered the market before heading on to the Crawford Art Gallery. One of my favourite galleries in the country, it is housed in the stunning former Custom House and became the local design school in the 19th century and then the art college shortly thereafter. Now it is a public art gallery and, currently, it has several excellent exhibitions on - it is easy to get lost for hours in the place. After leaving and strolling about in the sun and having a goo around some of the shops, we headed back to the hotel for dinner and then drinks on their incredible terrace as the setting sun painted the Cork skyline in vivid blush tones. Though we had only just dolled ourselves up for dinner, we promptly changed into our pajamas and popped into the in-house cinema for a movie.

Wholesome as our weekend was, we were both asleep by midnight and up before nine to go for a swim, steam and sauna. Once we'd packed up and left our bags at the (almost overly friendly) hotel reception, we went back down the town to pick up coffee for a friend and a pick-me-up for us in the famous Cork Coffee Roasters. Then we had a very tasty brunch in the cute and quirky little Brick Lane - who were incredibly helpful and kind about making the menu as gluten and dairy free as possible for Cara.

The rest of the day was spent on the stunning campus of UCC, exploring the beautiful architectural gem that is the Glucksman Gallery, drawing and colouring in the educational section (though it is, admittedly, aimed at kids), and walking along the riverside. We then found time to squeeze in some cake and tea at Quay Co-op before hopping on the bus back home.

The Montenotte is a beautifully decorated gem with amazing facilities and exceptionally helpful staff. One could easily spend the whole weekend there without stepping a foot outside the building; going to the cinema, hanging out at the pool, enjoying drinks on the terrace and eating in the restaurant. But, with Cork unfolded and lovely right before your eyes, exploring her architectural wealth, historical and cultural heritage and multitude of cool eateries and foodie havens is a must. We would, without a doubt, come back to check off the endless list of things we couldn't fit in this time around. In the mean time, I have to convince Cara not to leave me for the city, so enamoured is she by the place...

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