declaration of stuff

I said I'd come back. There was a moment back there when I wondered if I would but then this evening I was cycling back from the cinema feeling all energised and peddling fast with the cold stinging my ears and it just felt right. So this feels good to be typing away again. Here, have some photographs of the outfit I'm wearing. Also, I have some news. Are you ready? Last week I made my first purchases from Primark. Yeahh I did. A couple of pairs of trousers (which may have to be returned after realising that whilst they look great on they are not sit-down-able. Must remember to do 'fake sitting down' in fitting rooms..) and this jumper which I've been wearing a lot and enjoying slinging over things and looking less pregnant in it than I do in the rest of my knitwear. 

The film I saw tonight was Declaration of War. Essentially I went to see it on the basis of liking this promo still of a couple in the bath with their toddler and thinking it was pretty sweet. The film itself was odd in parts - sometimes it felt like the director Valerie Donzelli (who was also one of the two leads) was experimenting and mixing it up as she went along which mostly lead to jarring and unintentionally hilarious effects (see inappropriately timed bursting into song about sex and hips on the way to a hospital.) But the central couple were so gorgeous together as a set of young parents and the storyline moving enough for the bizarreness of the rest of the film to be redeemed. It also mildly helped to solve my current hair funk because a) it was a French film. French films solve style funks. and b) because Donzelli wears her hair in a side-parting. It looked like a very good idea so I scraped mine into an imitation when I returned home. 

I've managed to watch lots of films over the last month. I'm a member at the Cornerhouse cinema so I get reduced tickets and it's so easy to hop on my bike and cycle down from University in the middle of the day. Holy Motors blew my mind and is probably my favourite films of the year. I also watched Last Tango In Paris for the first time and fell deeply in love with it. With Brando and with that fantastic soundtrack by Gato Barbieri. I listened to it over and over again during a week of essay writing in the library and attribute my satisfying grade to the sexy jazzy swaying it induced in like, my soul, and my typing hands. I also promptly bought a Last Tango In Paris film poster because I am a true individual just like, showing my passion for things on my walls blind slave to the system.