Shirt-dress – Courtesy of Flik Hall, Pants – Zara DIY cut-off jeans, Shoes – Courtesy of Heavy Machine, Bag – ASOS, Jacket – Barbour

I think I may have discovered a new fruit, ladies and gentleman. Events from the past few days have helped uncover the existence of a magical species, in the same family as the banana, the ba-radioactive-neon-green-peel-lining-nana. I have discovered that, despite my entire life in a Western setting with aspirations not unlike an American teenager’s (running a Babysitter’s club, going to prom, getting punched by a mean girl), there is powerful Asian tiger-mum blood coursing through my veins, melting vital organs. If I had it my way, the London Riots would be dealt with kimchi-smeared fingers and a putter club from daddy’s golf-shrine. Yes, some say the riots were the cries of the neglected underclass, the abandoned youth deprived of role models, but before questioning the government on bad parenting, punishment should be ruthless. I personally don’t believe in beating as part of child raising, but a stick has always been a part of my childhood, and I can’t deny that there was always a lesson to be learnt behind every strike. So I don’t steal, well, except from looters, I’ll strip the hoodies off your back and DIY the crap out of it. Hide yo kids, hide yo wives.

There’s no doubt those involved in such shameful, disgusting acts have deserved the ‘Scum’ title, and it’s clear that the rule-abiding citizens have proved our worth by not retaliating but instead cleaning after the idiots, but please let’s do our best to train them not to soil the carpet in the first place. Use a water gun, or a rolled-up newspaper, give them good role models, invest in their future…

Thank you Alice (of Alicepoint) for helping with the shots