Blue coat – Anywho x Brics, Cream coat – Mum’s, Boots – Sam Edelman, Clutch – C/O Kurt Geiger, Watch – Casio, Bracelets – C/O Boticca, Dress- ASOS Salon
Oh how I love Christmas! Mariah (and lately Justin Bieber, the horror) constantly wanting only me from speakers of the randomest of places (butcher’s down the road, WHY); the smart-ass, seemingly-omniscient gift guides of the interwebs; twelve days of Christmas and one very bankrupt and exhausted true love; the visible struggle for the shops to make a watered down version of the season’s products (i.e very well-dressed snowmen decorations and elaborate snowflakes) that hopefully appeal to those that don’t necessarily, by religion or whatnot, celebrate the day but would still like to participate in the buzz…. But most of all, the ‘christ’-lessness of ‘Christ’mas, and a whole month of cringing at the fact that it’s less and less that and more and more ‘x’ of Xmas, probably x = the unknown? To be very frank, I always find myself distressed by the noise around Christmas – this of course will serve as the primary reason to the fact that my children will be the scoundrels who will break the Santa secret to all his classmates on the eve, making the night truly sleepless but for entirely different reasons. And I will die of chronic cynicism, on Christmas day, surely.
Babbling aside, this year I was most drawn to Malachi chapter 4, the final book and chapter of the Old Testament which dates 300 years before the birth of Christ, but in all its might leaves a big arrow towards the coming of Jesus. (Yes Christmas is defacto a pagan tradition and Jesus was really born closer to March but if we’re plastering babies & mangers over our cards and we’ve allocated ONE time during the year to remember His birth then might as well do it properly)