5 Minutes With The Snob

Why are you so distracted?

http://www.hannahlouisef.com/2015/09/topshop-unique-ss16-backstage-hair-beauty.html

Imaan Hamman getting even prettier. Photo: http://www.hannahlouisef.com/

Woah, woah woah! Start from the top. Don’t just come here and start talking prose from your ass. Take a deep a breath, I mean like wtf?

I’m a feminist now. So can I say ‘girls’ or ‘chicks’ referring to women? What about bitches and hoes, what’s the verdict on those? And sluts? Or should I say actively sexual exploiters, personally or otherwise . . . In the exploiting and not the dressing. Come on, wake up.

Go home Bob, you’re rich.

You know what I was thinking? . . . Nothing.

Do you think I need more hairspray?

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-2524614/Fashion-report-The-Victorias-Secret-Angels-reveal-takes-catwalk-ready.html

Sui He “Is this smudging? Should I stop talking after this?”

If I’m not in the front, then why am I here?

Nice pot plant. Do you have an indoor gardener for your indoor plants or do you just spritz them from your water bottle?

You’re on ‘Brow-Duty’, I don’t want to feel betrayed when I look in the mirror later.

Do you have everything?

I don’t, for the life of me, understand why there isn’t any music playing.

Stockings, hmmm.

How’re my brows?

rihannabyrusseljames

“Smooches.”

Love ya, bye.

xoxo. The Snob.

Not Exactly New Year Stuff

So, remember that gorgeous blazer in my ‘New Year’s Resolution’ post? I wore it on New Year’s Eve, I took it off before the countdown but I wore it. All I have to do is buy or make another blazer, probably in a different colour (it’s black with gold buttons <3).

Anyway, you haven’t seen my (and my fiance’s) daughter, no I’m a 21-year-old with a kid, she’s a dog. Take a look . . ._DSC1170_DSC1177_DSC1178Isn’t she adorable? She’s a pure bred Doberman, extremely naughty and she loves running and tearing things apart, things she doesn’t like. She’s snobby that way. Also, she’s grown up a lot from these pics, now she’s all long-legged and hot, but still a puppy, we have good genes, haha.

Okay, that was random I know. I couldn’t resist! So getting on with it, the first new person I met this year was a hot red-head Asian girl named Cayleigh, she was with her boyfriend, Brendon, so they’re like the first new people I met this year! Yay! How cool. They’re from Canada, Hi Canada!!! Also random . . .

I’ve gotta meet cooler people this year, geez. I met some cool people last year but sometimes they did some really annoying things that made me think ‘Really now?’, but the coolest people are those that are really smart and funny, I mean you can just talk for a long time about something interesting and not be like ‘Are you going to go way now?’. I also met some shitty people who I still don’t like because they’re either really stupid or ghetto and they keep trying to copy me or be seen around me and that’s fucking lame, worse than that is they have fuck all to offer intellectually or entertainment wise. Bleh, maybe I should be less of bitch/snob but I can’t stand wasting my time talking to fucktards. By the way, another cool girl I met on NYE was Ilse/Else Novak, such a cool girl. She’s Polish and we spent a lot of time talking about like, everything, laughing hysterically and doing Polish and Russian imitations. I was asked to hook her up with some random, but she wasn’t interested and I figured he was douchey (He went on and on about a girl who he was talking to before because she was worth like, 3 billion bucks, and he said he had property in Birmingham which we (my fiance and I) thought was cool because that’s where Ozzy is from. Turns out his grandmother lives there, so technically it’s not his property and he lied, and the fact that he went on about the girl’s money and not the girl’s personality or pretty eyes or anything else was really pathetic, and then she said ‘She’s not even that pretty’- Asshole alert much?) so after all that, I decided ‘Why hook such a great girl up with a douche bag?’. Sorry bro, get it together.

Then there was Bianca, who designs a menswear label, very interesting company called Punk ‘n Ivy, based on nostalgia. Mmmm . . .

I should probably get to those Resolutions. I’ve accomplished one already, whoo hoo (the blogger one).

It’s 2013!

xoxo. The Snob.

The Snob’s New Year’s Resolutions!

okay, first of all, how retarded is that phrase ‘New Year’s Resolutions’? Not ‘solutions’, ‘resolutions’. Strange, like oh again! Anyway, here are mine. Keep in mind, I’m like, talking to myself.

1. Work out, you lazy bitch! No seriously, working out is fun and the rewards are a hottter body so why the fuck aren’t you doing it? Huh?

2. Bottles are nice unless they’re filled with emotions. Stop it!

3. Stop wearing that gorgeous blazer with EVERY outfit, duh.

4. Wear those oxblood-red shoes, scared bitch!

5. Dance more, boring picky bitch!

6. Write more, uninspired bitch!

7. Don’t allow people to waste even a second of your lovely time, I mean really.

8. Shut up sometimes. (I’m a straightforward person, waiting for someone to get to the point simply bores me and then I’ll have another point and I realise they haven’t yet made a point, if I can do it so can you, but hey. Maybe I have to wait, yawn . . . Yay, let’s be positive)

9. Wear what you want to wear, it’s my body and my clothes not OURS!

10. Tame your criticism. It’s that getting to the point thing, I don’t like going around the bush and that pisses people off, weirdly enough. People like the cushioned blow which means you have to speak to everyone like they are pussy little girls with no self esteem and analyse everything you say, so “That top isn’t very flattering” has to turn into “Oh, the last time I saw you, you were wearing this pretty top, that style really looks good on you. And I love your pants!”- I don’t even think that bush is big enough for some people. Perhaps they should just accept that I’ll tell them straight.

11. Expand my blogger network. Bloggers can be so shy, I don’t know what it will take.

12. Love love love.

13. Make stuff. (more stuff)

14. Lookbook-my lookbook is gathering dust, so sad.

15. Take more photos.

16. Indulge in fashion like a squirrel with nuts!!!!!

I would say ‘stop bitching’ but usually when I bitch about something, it’s because that something needs to be bitched about so excuse me. Either way, I hope everyone has had a great year or at least an adventurous one filled with real shit because that’s what happens.

xoxo. The Snob.

Wasted Youth?

Back to . . . Some kind of reality, I guess. As in the weird party scene.

You see after over-dressing to literally every place you go to, and then finally having a party where everyone else made an effort, there are the masses that unfortunately a snob has to face. Places which I won’t mention by the way. Every time I go there I get the “She doesn’t even go here” look , and I know better than to open my mouth very often unless spoken to because my lack of brain-to-mouth-filter will ask “Are you the before?”. Yes it’s sad, people wear their trainers out, as in like, running shoes. You know it’s cool if you’re going  to run home, run home! walk home but people do that in New York wearing Christian Louboutins or at least dressy Dorothy Perkins pumps. And not only are there the bouncers NOT asking a few delinquents “Isn’t it past your curfew?” but there are  mothers and fathers of college students who might just bump into their kids making out and fondling outside the bathroom, after they themselves have also just been making out and fondling on the dance floor with someone’s lecturer (and decided to take it to the bathroom). Oh the awkwardness joy!

Oh my gosh! Is that an alcohol bracelet on your ankle? I wonder what your parole officer would have to say about your being here, stumbling over the table to get yet ANOTHER drink (. . . And a shot), tripping on your shoe-lace, spilling your drink on someone’s ugly outfit and going back to the bar to get another drink ( . . .  And ANOTHER shot). Whew! You should probably call Lindsay Lohan to tell her you’re ‘totally rebelling’ and so excited to throw up on the girl you’re taking home tonight! Great. Even though I was so keen to keep my mouth shut, I can’t help but want to tell you that TMZ.com is not a lifestyle channel, really, it isn’t. No really REALLY! IT ISN’T!

This mugshot is found from http://www.perezhil...

This mugshot is found from http://www.perezhilton.com, and the original is from the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. All mugshots from there are released into in the public domain.http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=User_talk:Meegs&diff=prev&oldid=108863911 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There just HAPPENS to be art galleries down the road from some of these places, which obviously brings the surprisingly under-dressed art crowd. I don’t get it, some individuals in this crowd are known in Europe and might become amazingly successful globally pretty damn soon and yet they have the tendency to ALWAYS fit in with the hoboes. Come on, it must be embarrassing for someone to say “Sorry I don’t have change” when you’re near them. That must make it weird if you ever ask for change, for like, a cigarette vending machine or something.

Seeing a girl or guy who is also over-dressed and confused without their significant other is also a sad story. Like, unless you work for some charity organization and tonight your duty is to offer or allow for a charity shag then sorry to tell you, but the best you can do is to video-tape people who can’t dance and make a hit youtube video out of it. Otherwise, you can find your NBF (New Best Friend) in a gay guy because half the chicks here are wearing stripes AND polka-dot and/or orange or their friend’s clothes or some really shit ill-fitting vintage (from the 80’s). Deeper in the suburbs you can literally shout “Ashley! Bradley! Morgan! Jade! Blake! Jesse! Taylor! or Kyle!” and any guy or girl will look straight at you and reply “Hey?”. These apparently unisex or common names . . . Actually don’t surprise me.

Township music is fucking over! I can’t stress this more! Stop trying to make fetch township music happen! And the 80’s left us about  32 ago, and that commercial house is disgusting and the cheesy songs from television ads only remind us of toothpaste or the specials at the garage and why does every big party have to be a drum & bass or dubstep gathering with junkies and jail bait spilling drinks on each other and hiding their crack bong or needle set in their hoodies? WHY?

 

I’m not exactly complaining, this ‘scene’ gives me lots to write about, it’s a cultural thing right? I totally (almost) understand why you pregamed on the side of the road, waiting for your ‘First 100 in’ free shots and shit, and I guess you might need your chemical fix due to your lack of personality outside of the ‘group’. Get rowdy! Party! Just know, if I get overly fascinated, I’ll be there taking pictures, documenting your hoodie-trainer-neon-coloured-80’s vintage-shit talking-screaming-drug induced personalities (maybe even a video). There are cool people amongst you, just please don’t spill your drink on my white chiffon!

xoxo.

The Snob!

Andrew Mons for Augustine

When I received the invite for the launch of a new Male Muse and range for Augustine (ANDREW MONS for AUGUSTINE – [Save the Date]), I took it seriously. Very very fucking seriously.

I remember when it was my dear friend Jerome (Homme Jerome for Augustine), I was as proud as a Doberman mom hearing her puppy growl for the first time! Like ” Wow, look at you 🙂 “. It was a party well hosted, with mostly well-dressed and well-mannered entertaining individuals. So this time, I freaked out completely (the excited,ecstatic kind), planning my outfit, scanning Style.com for tiny little white dresses, in fact I was sure as hell that I’d rock up in a little white dress and pastel accessories until the dress I made was too short and became a top instead. After a whole month, yes MONTH, of planning , ‘saving the date’ as if it were a birth control appointment, playing dress up the night before, laying items on the bed during my pregame with my boyfriend (the one person who knows that if I’m planning an outfit a month before an event, it’s something we’re definitely going to), the day had finally come! I settled on an outfit that had nothing to do white and went all Isabel Marant (brown suede shorts) meets Balmain (some type of embroided sheer navy blue waistcoat and a black cropped blazer with gold buttons). One thing you MUST know is that this outfit probably wouldn’t hang anywhere else,with envious eyes of bitches who don’t give a shit to work out but give a shit to comment on someone that does and shows off  her hard work, this was another kind of crowd. Appreciative,I guess and I was proud of myself when the comments were along the lines of “I love your top, it’s so risqué”, which was exactly what I was going for.

Now for the muse and the range! Oh wait, did I mention the drinks buffet? Snob’s favourite, I don’t know if there was any other buffet but it wouldn’t have interested me or anyone else,pfft.

pastels and prints= win!

If you missed the patterned belt loops you probably weren’t invited.

Love the trimming on those shorts and the fabric of the shirt was very un-golf-shirty which is great.

Hiding the tattoos under a shirt that night, I see.

Should I continue saying anything? I will, obviously. We met Andrew pretty late in the night but the few hours spent talking to this colourful individual were definitely notable. He had a more serious toned conversation with my boyfriend than with me and the crowd – being able to make that switch between bitchy, funny, intelligent and laid back to level-headed business creative is a freaking desirable social skill. We did however have a conversation about the stresses of blogging, shit isn’t easy (I’ve been writing for 4+hours). By the way, those dungarees- I know it’s a menswear range but I could really see myself wearing them with my heeled oxfords, a sheer blouse and a bib necklace!

Okay, honestly I know the photos I took aren’t of the best quality. I had to choose between my handbag and my Nikon DSLR which are the SAME SIZE, that and trying to hold a drink and a cigarette and trying to take a photo with that beast, so naturally I chose my handbag and cigarette (and unfortunately not-so-great photos). Anyway, I have photos of the lovely snobs I met :), you know that if I remember your name after a half day hangover which I slept off and had iced-teas for the rest of the day, then you’re really mighty cool. So big shout outs to my fellow snobs: Leeroy Duke-dressed in Andrew Mons, Lisa- girl is beyond crazy, Gareth- I still remember your hair, Justine- owner of the shop and I realised she changed her hair colour and she has such a lovely speaking voice, Justin-the blondie who had Jerome’s lighter (gotcha), Jason and Shelly-cute cute cute cute cute! And of course Andrew Mons.

Jerome and Justine looking dashing at the Homme Jerome launch.

Abso-fucking-lutely

Jerome and I.

I’ve given up on my captions for now because my laptop is acting ghetto, but our little party got swarmed for a while, and somewhere in those photos are the betchiest, most fabulous people I met and my lovely fiance. Also, I apologise for anyone in these photos who does not look gorgeous, because you obviously are (if your name is listed). I can’t leave you with that, can I? No fucking way, here’s my favourite campaign picture . . .

Fucking Brilliant!

And a video. Your Personal Style Bitches!

Came, Saw, Conquered!!

Ooh, nothing like killing about 4 birds with one stone!

Confused? I’ll enlighten you. It was a weekend night (that starts with an S, the other one, the one on which Christians like to hang out together), we went out to a place that you can call ‘the usual spot’, the bartenders know what you want so you don’t have holler at them like the rest of the crowd.  That’s besides the point, my night turned into an episode of Sex and The City meets Gossip Girl (seriously). Don’t want to go into too much detail but I was greeted by a person who is already hard to like with a dirty look ‘smile’, of course in all my politeness and not giving the person the satisfaction of making me uncomfortable, I smiled back. I’m still not sure if it was a real smile but it did the trick. Fast-forward less than a minute later, walking strutting with drinks in hand to see the live jazz band,  meeting friends, having a jam. Bird 1-injured.

Oh by the way, it’s been a fucking long time since we saw a good jazz band, the bassist knew he was good, and he showed it by playing and playing and playing until the other two band members had to randomly join just to stop him get a chance to show off their skills too. A live freestyle performance will always be interrupted by a drunk and lively character in the audience, one of these was a cool girl who looks like your aunt but acts like your crazy best friend, she kept singing some one liner from a popular kwaito song. Funny in the beginning but slowly worked its way into annoying and disrespectful, but I guess it’s all part of the fun. A while later we all sat at a table and talked shit about everything, refreshing talking to people you haven’t seen in a while. Here I also got glances from this non-stranger, which left me thinking ‘when are you going to quit?’. Here I am trying to dodge a conversation about maize, yes MAIZE, apparently that is the latest important thing to talk about, this is obviously new to me since the maize we (my fiance and I) eat is cous cous from Morocco or Italy or something. Anyway how does one dodge a conversation? Sipping your drink, smoking your cigarette and scanning the crowd, which means getting scanned too, oh the joy (sarcasm).

Before I carry on, I must mention Bird 2: Being way hotter than your ‘arch nemesis’, hotter, well dressed, polite, intelligent, the fucking works. Need I say that I immediately removed that label from that person because anyone who knows me, knows that I’ll only accept a person as my arch nemesis if they’re in my league. Am I wrong? No I’m not, think about it, there’s no point in Giselle Bundchen-Brady calling Tyra Banks an arch nemesis, it’s a waste, Giselle is a million times hottter, and is always tops whereas Tyra is a has been, and always wears too much eye shadow! See what I mean? Bird 2 status-smashed into a million little pieces.

Ooh we had a good dance, like in the movies haha. We had a friendly chat with the band’s drummer who turned out to be a familiar face to my fiance, and I had a friendly chat with the girl with the thrift shop racks selling everything I wouldn’t wear until That 70’s Show reunion party. But she’s a cool, chilled out person and she’s developed a lot of poise since the last time I saw her, ‘You go girl!’.

Bird 3 is a nice bird, it’s the bird that can’t fly and makes good chicken wings! Yummy. This is the one person who got on my nerves for not acknowledging important current situations. Fine, you’re kind of annoying but we can actually get along and I’d understand what you were saying more often if it wasn’t for your ghetto accent, but I can appreciate that you’re not completely rude, even though you have your moments. Win! Bird 3 status- killed and eaten. lol. And I guess you can’t stop people from copying your make-up.

Bird 4- Going out with my lovely fiance, meeting friends, dancing and having a ball. Since that was the point, but like a good hunter, you always recognise your other successes especially if you’re using the same weapon! You can have so many asses kicked in one night, politely of course. Cheers to partying like a betch and being a good hunter 😉 . Cheers to my snobs!