This is the end, my beautiful friend

I'm leaving to Cambridge on July third, and I will be back from vacationing on August second. This post isn't mostly about my leaving, but more about the fact I might not be coming back.
Polyvore isn't what is used to be. Some of the greatest people on here have either left or moved on. There's.... rarely any 'fun' in it. The roleplays are either deja vu, not very well organised, or just not stimulating enough. Briar's has officially fallen. You know they say the best time to leave a party is when it is a its fullest swing. Polyvore's fullest swing has passed, so I have already made that mistake.
The only thing that is keeping me is the stories that I have written on here and don't wish to lose. It's definitely something I'm thinking about. If I do come back, I won't be very consistent. I feel like I can't do this, and I'm already making a too much big of a deal out of this. Life awaits. I'm boarding a plane alone to London in a week from now, and I can't worry about...websites on the internet, even if the people on it and the trends and the self-expression have helped shaped who I am today. There are so many people I need to thank :
Eva, even if you're gone and I never was as close to you as others, you were inspirational and refined and your ideas and stories and sets were as luxurious to me as a cashmere scarf is to a Vogue editor.
Meagan, you introduced me to Polyvore, and I need to thank you for this opportunity. You are most definitely the person who helped me grow the most in the past year or so ; you infallibly stood by, through quarrels and sticky situations, and even if we have our resentments, thank you.
Lexi, your omnipresent friendship and ability to make me laugh won't go unnoticed. Your reliability and trustworthiness are golden. Pollymullets 4 evah!
Bea, oh bea, who else am I going to complain about my appearance and lust over Lara with? WHOSE BLOG IS AMAZING? That's right. Beaty, idk what I would do if I hadn't heard about Sky Ferreira about you. Thank you for the awesome music recommendations and advice and shoulder to cry on. You rock.
Julia : for not-so-unknown reasons, you have left polyvore, but I still religiously stalk gems and jules. My fellow South African, your writing is easily branded as remarkable and your wit and blogging talent is enviable. I feel that maybe if we aren't so close, I can still go to you for bitching and bawling, and lots of ranting over South African discriminations. I will still obsessively try to imitate your effortlessly cooler-than-thou blog and LUST OVER YOUR LAST NAME.
Maya, you seem to have disappeared for no reason, yet I won't forget your amazing RJ short stories and discussions over Sofia Coppola and other costume directors. You truly are the twelve year old with a heart of gold.
Georgie Porgie, let's sit over a cup of warm hot chocolate at 2 am on facebook and rant over the latest Gossip Girl episode and my creepiness. Your casual sense of humor never fails to wind me up. There never is any awkward banter with you, just lulzy mullet, chace crawford, pedo jokes. i lub you, you awesome music enthusiast.
Camille, I remember before BH started, and I saw you as the california girl who jogged to the beach every morning (well that's what I concluded from the countless surveys of yours I read). I'll always remember you as xCamx (or xxCamxx was it?) and BeautifulVeins. Kent was, honestly, one of the awesomest characters on BH, and everyone recognizes nowadays your revolutionary paper-doll layout. Even if we grew apart and you went your own way, you'll always be Diablo - Kent - Camille.
Eloise/Annie, DUDE you're awesome. I can't believe you left. Your style was seriously hip (creepers, rosaries, fake-fur jackets, vinyls?) and fun and I was so disappointed that you left. Who else listens to the velvet underground and can handle a character like Penn? NOT MANY PEOPLE. Who else is going to tell me about all the cool spots to visit in NYC? Man, I wish you'd come back! And, also, do you know why I worship you? Because you are the only person that I know to have told Rachel off. You're absolutely extraordinary!
Brianne, we were never that close friends, but I have consistently observed from afar your unique style, which is at the same time delightfully deranging but inspirational. Who else religiously admires Martin Margiela?
Andrea, I haven't forgotten about you. Thank you for making me feel less creepy about my obsession with Ash Stymest and Gaspard. In fact, apart from that, our conversations ranged to plotting against Aurora and California. I wish I was as cool as you were!
And last but not least, Liz : Liz, you left. It can't be branded as cowardice, and it can't be branded as emotional breakdown, so I'm not sure why. Otherwise, your eternal love for Mika and your bubbly attitude and random spurs of curses enchant me as much as they delighted others. Adina will never be forgotten for me, and I'm definitely keeping in touch with you.
 
I guess that was it. Not too sappy, I hope?
Alright. I guess that's all.
See you around?
 
Maxine.

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS, TISCI? DO YOU WANT TO TORTURE ME? NO MORE COUTURE SHOWS? BASTARD! BASTARD! AND IT'S COSTING YOU 35% MORE, ON TOP OF IT! OH, YOU WANT A 'CHALLENGE'? I'LL GIVE YOU A CHALLENGE, BRING BACK THE SHOWS! IT'S HIGHLIGHTS OF THE DAY OF A SIMPLETON LIKE ME ;_;
 
jk jk ily please stop this everyone has bad days.
PLEASE.
 
I felt like I should share this with everyone. I am fuming over my cup of tea. fuming.

SO...Noelle time. >> to read the story, you must listen to the track http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kEdk8YhieSQ it's born free by M.I.A. YES NYLON FOR PUTTING HER ON THE COVER.
I don't know if anyone heard, but the video was removed from youtube for violence and sexuality. I watched it on vimeo, it was, may I say, gloriously violent and politically controversial but I loved every second of it.
(go ahead and pretend the girl that cole mohr is kissing is tallulah morton. or just pretend she's you, nbd)
-
 

Why stare at dull art galleries when I had my mind sprawled all over my champs de vision? And fries and sweets at my disposal in my bunk?
Silence echoed through the bus. Heavy smoke wafted through the air, sparks of glitter and heaven and hints of patchouli and rose water stung my eyes. Opulence reigned over the atmosphere, man's musk missing although. Light cream oozed through my fingers from the rich caramel donut I sunk my teeth in, strawberry jam dripping onto the sheets, blooming like fresh blood from a soldier's wound. Rosy lip prints on my arms, grease from french fries distorting my fingerprints. Milky skin turns brown underneath the sun, just as my golden skin turns white with shiver. Dark hair cascading down my shoulders, roots peeking from their hiding places. Gasps, moans, and frightened "oh"s. Hiccups grappling up my throat, pushed back down by inhaled nicotine.
"Oh, sorry,"
"Stay."
Running eyes over intruders, I crushed a strawberry in my hand, juice running down my wrist like make-believe blood.
"Do you like strawberries?"
His eyes shone like pearls, stubble subtly growing on his chin and his nostrils flaring lightly, barely noticeable. His lips were as raw as bark.
"Yeah."
"Cyn brought you in?"
"She did. Cigarette?" A cigarette pack was offered my way. I very slowly slid one out of the rumpled pack without breaking eye contact. I brought it to my mouth and looked down and uttered a a sentence even I didn't hear.
"Did you look in her eyes while you undressed her?"
"No, I didn't"
"Sorry?"
"Cyn was too drunk and I carried her to her bed. I slept in the bathtub."
The smoke from our cigarettes blurred out our perception of one another.
"So, you like strawberries?" I asked again.
"You know what they say about the color red? It's a sinner's color. Blood, guilt, passion, and pain."
I was surprised he knew this.
"They say red is for prostitutes and murderers," I continued. He took several steps forward. I was sitting on the top bunk of the bunk bed I shared with Ashe. He was so tall that he stood right at my knees.
"You like being on the top?"
I flushed.
"Excuse me?"
"Bunk bed, I meant," fine lines, like scars of drought in the ground, crinkled around his eyes.
I shrugged, "Anything to be closer to God."
"You're religious, then?"
"Satanism," I joked. He ran a deliciously plump tongue over chapped lips, and then very, /very/, cautiously drew little round circles with his thumb on my kneecap.
"My name is Noelle," I whispered.
"Well, Noelle," his lips grew into a contortion of interest, "my name is Johnny. I'd like to get to know you."
My tiny, emerging smile fell. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Johnny, but no one knows me." I climbed down from the bunk, yet he stood in my way.
"I have to meet my sisters," I said stiffly. I pointed my chin in an attempt of opposition and I allowed one glance at him. A wan awkwardness treaded in his facial expression. He quaveringly brought up his hand to my face and parted my lips into a surprised position. A million nerve endings exploded and I flinched.
"You can sleep in my bunk," I put flatly, and then ran out of there. The images flying through my mind were overwhelming.
 
-
 
I GOT MY BRACES OFF TODAY. WEEEE.
I want to see Somewhere so much.
(this story is ironic because my favorite color is red)

So...My birthday is on april twenty-sixth, but I have no idea what I want. So far, this is my wishlist :
- an e.e. cummings poetry book
- Gossip Girl season 1
does anyone have any ideas heh?

-Guns n' roses
the new Tom Ford lipstick looks so purty. I think I want it for my birfday (april 26th).
Who saw the Private Dancer editorial in british Vogue this month? It's kinda incredible.
 
▲ Noelle Leeds ▲
via norfolk, england
SEVENTEEN
Noelle comes from a family of seven sisters, namely Ashe. She's something of a paranoiac, always locking doors behind her, the same way she'll lock people out of her life. Untouchable, she speaks only when spoken to or when a smoldering, cutthroat comment surfaces her deep red-painted lips. Her long, artificially dark hair and armful of exotic thread bracelets conceal her true bourgeoise upbringing in rural England, providing she keeps her mouth devoid of her tell-tale accent. She avoids her younger sister at all costs, not giving the slightest idea that the two are related. She likes to sit on the beach and let sand run through her slender fingers like an hourglass, thinking silently. Boys throw themselves at her feet, and rarely giving them a second glance (but known to have dated a kaleidoscope of men back home), Noelle hasn't exactly been known to shy away from girls. Complex and exotic though she may be, her tough love flies with all the others, who in turn are fascinated by Ashe's tall, desireably inhuman sibling.
model; tallulah morton or sienna miller with dark hair
[enter MAXINE OH YEA]
 
the song that goes with this is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZSE4uVtxBA
 

Time was like the sand in your hands, slipping, sliding, running out, grain by grain, so chiseled and defined, and you could blink once and it could all be gone, poof. And where? For what? For that delicious second of rest?
 
A cigarette tucked behind a year, a slip of lipstick on a healthy tooth. Behind the idyllic appearances always lie monsters. Decayed lungs, rotting molars. Raspy last breaths bringing to a last conclusion of insatisfaction, emptiness.
Numerous knifings into a blaze of air, leaving numbing feeling of stabbing the nothing.
 
"Noelle. The water, come see."
Clambering out of the bus, the spring smell softly swirling, wafting almost to lift me up. A purple-and-orange burst of explosions churned in the hellacious sky. What a pity for it to be gone, trembles of ripples of feeling shifting through my body, tickling and electrifying my nerves. Toes sinking into soil, earthy ground, feeling the red and brown slithering around my feet. Touch, bruises, scars, my purity is in question.
 
Running down, flutters of scarves and thoughts that fill you up, coil around your chest and smother you and crack your ribs. Tastefully woven tresses spilling messily over round breasts, smatters of coated black eyelashes winking.
Fresh laundry.
Salt filling up your nostrils snatching a tear from your eyes.
Keys that fit in the right locks. Like that memory of a smell and the wind twisting my hair.
Stumbling blindly down, the water lapped at my feet, licked the sand, and pulled back, like a slingshot lapsing back into its natural position.
Crouching, I let the water taste me and taint my long skirt, bringing me down, drowning, drowning, splashing against me like against a big boulder.
Droplets of icy blue on my cheeks, eyelids. Flutters of open eyes.
Home.
 

...
 
[wrote this about water to please meagan :D second pick, cyn, third, dahlia]

Soooo I got back from NYC :)
Okay firstly I'd like to tell you that I saw the Tim Burton exhibition. It was miiiiiind-boggling. I will never be the same.
Evidently there was some hardcore shopping, and I think that going to the renown Prada store in Soho and Barneys and Saks was like dying and going to paradise and dying again. Because someeeee people were asking, here's what I bought :
- Flowered doc martens from Trash and Vaudeville. AMAZING experience. Jimmy is epic :D
- A Longchamp red tote bag exactly like that one
- A light purple cropped - fabric lacy blouse from Topshop. dude that's shit's expensive though. It's this one : http://us.topshop.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?beginIndex=20&viewAllFlag=false&catalogId=32051&storeId=13052&categoryId=174538&parent_category_rn=133431&productId=1642626&langId=-1 but shitcakes does it looks ten million times better irl
- some bleu shorts from Victoria's Secret for gym or lounging or the likes
- a motorola phone that works only in Europe for this summer
- An essie nail polish in 'tart deco' which is very peachy and I like :D
- a Ralph Lauren knit sweater striped black and red with brass buttons on the shoulders and a big rugby logo on the breast
- a silver locket from a vendor on the street
- a navy v-neck sweater
- a striped blue and white shirt with little eyelets all over the sleeves.
- MEMORIEZ
 
anyways it was preeeeetty awesome.
my mom bought a Burberry coat jacket and (the BEST PART) these ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC AMAZING Alexander McQueen huge heels with woodsy amazing ASDFGHJ I CANNOT DESCRIBE
there were down from 1006$ to 349$
Heaven on Earth.
Anyways it was a very amazing weekend.
All of you living in NYC, I envy :)

Monsieur Einstein
SO.
SUMMER 2010. Maxine is shipped off to London by plane all alone. 3 week law course at Cambridge. Afterwards, taking the Eurostar (for those who don't know what that is, it's a train) to Paris, where I will meet up with my parents.
I am scared sort of shitless for Cambridge. Kinda afraid of rejection, boredom, not fitting in with all the other kids (two classes from a school in Toronto are going, a certain Trinity College. Scholarities can rise up to 65 000$...). All that. Bah just dying of nervooooosity, even if it's still a handful of months away.
No particular question. But, does anyone have any comments? Advice? Recommendations? :D

- Fyodor Doestoevsky
I'm going to NYC beginning-of-April.
WHAT SHOULD I DO FRANDS/FELLOW PLOTTERS?
 
(ps. I suck at minis.)

idk how often I'll be on during the following days
 
http://www.formspring.me/milkybourbon
YES. do it. go for it.
 
btw I've had a few ruuuude formsprings. bah I don't mind but I'm quite curious, who is it? It's someone from poly for sher but seriously, who are you? Anonymity doesn't work well for me.
Just want to know you. Doesn't make you any better than me if you're...cowering like this.

-Oscar Wilde
 
I just hate some people yaknow? hate hate hate. loathe. loathing. bam there should be like a keyboard to life, like delete, backspace, and $$$
 
http://www.formspring.me/milkybourbon
why zus no one want to write in my fs ;_;
seriously anything. ask me what my birthstone is. ask me anything. ask me if i have ever seen a goat give birth. YES BTW.
 
I went shoe shopping today. bought the shoes jessica is wearing in this : http://whatthehellz.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/jessica-stam-aldo-ss10-01.jpg
and a pair of red Keds.
SPRRRRRRRRING FASTER.
who's going to see alice on friday?