The blog is resuscitated!

So, blog – I do realise my last post was in February 2014, but you have been ticking away at the back of my mind since then, and I feel strangely attached to my 8 followers my graft has earned and thus, I have breathed life back into you via the WordPress app.

On Wednesday I will board a one-way flight to Munich (oh how poetic/professional that sounds!) and not return for, like, pure agees like. 1 month? eh?! But honestly, I feel contented, if not a little underwhelmed. I personally would enjoy a perennial sunbathe-lake-chill-day but of course my best friend Leah has things planned, such as visiting my old pal Nathalie and going to Berlin to see our friend Claudio before his big operation. I realise this post is pretty fucking boring, but I’d like to think of it as a benchmark from which I will move. I shall post! I will! The only way is up, right?

In the meantime, here’s this picture I pilfered from Buzzfeed which I feel accurately represents both my self-absorbed feelings towards my impending adventure and a lil comforting message (it is my phone background, after all) 

Stay tuned, my hungry 8 followers! Over and out ✌️

The Not-Quite-Underclass of ‘Sheila’


Brendan Caldwell


I once went to a pub in Battersea with my girlfriend of the time, who had worked behind the bar. She introduced me to her friends who were working that night and to some of the regulars.

I met a girl who had had a kid in her teens and who later rejected an offer to study at Oxford because they were snooty to her in the interview. Instead she decided she was going to be an air stewardess because she had developed a fear of flying after being on a plane journey that nearly crashed. She said she wanted to get over that fear.

I met a guy, pulling pints, who moved from South Africa with the love of his life, who later abandoned him to the English weather, leaving him only his clothes and the mutual tattoo they got dedicated to each other on his hand, which…

View original post 1,580 more words


(follow my instagram @photosbysophie for more pictures)

yesterday, as my group hit heathrow after an irritatingly short flight from bologna, the banter was already wearing thin. earlier that day i had forgotten to acknowledge the fact that european hairbos will never reach the standard of those in the uk, and consequently spent a shitload of euros in duty free on a shitload of shit gummy bears. that, coupled with a mutual dread that i will have to endure british airways economy class with humans i would otherwise prefer not to communicate with meant that there was no room for the tiptop quality lolz i shared previously mit meinen klasse. i stand by the philosophy that if theres no banter, there will only be unbanter. it proved to be true. the plane ride back wasn’t terrible, and by saying that it was the worst thing about the trip. the trip was brilliant.

my pals and i are a big fan of whatsapp (google it if ur an old fogie), and in our group chats i dispense the small sliver of wit i have left to give them daily updates on my progress when we are not together at school. they seem to think its funny, and i hope you do too. (sidenote: maz/mairi is my companion, and i often refer to myself as G as it is my unadopted nickname)

Day 2: did florentine things and met florentine students. back at the hotel with £8 menthol voddy waiting for da ladz so we can go mento. [safe to say, we did. i fell over a lot.]
Day 3: maz and G get lost in the suburbs of sienna with 15 mins to get to the centre. we succeed with hurt feet and morale. bussed it to san gimiangno(sp?!) and saw many significant tings that i still dont know the name of. discovered best pizza known to man and acquired a tea towel and beat the shit out of my classmates in a scavenger hunt. fern and bridget [gamergrrrl roomies who dont do sunlight] have been on their laptops for approximately 103 years. fern is being alarmingly nice and it’s beginning to freak me out.
Day 4: about to get onit with maz and co, had a fuckin pumpin day doing some XXXstreme bargain hunting with record times of buying 4 scarves in 5 minutes. other purchases include pesto and booties. rain continues to pelt the city of florence. bridget and ferns wall to wall banter exceeds anything we have previously experienced. [they actually went outside. radical, i know]
Day 5: In the early hours, brodie [5ft3 dude-cum-mentalist] asks sophie out and is dutifully rejected, and both parties end up inside the room of 3 manchunian art college students closely followed by maz and co, then we chill on the roof. the coming day brings the sighting of the statue of david’s crack (teehee) and a hike up 2 monuments, both igniting a sophie g fit of rage due to the unexpected amount of stairs. We visit a museum of shoes and fly home that afternoon. to much disappointment, fern and kirill [strange russian chap] lose their luggage at heathrow. shame.
lessons i’ve learned-
chinese people are WELL CUTE
theres no shopping like italian shopping
pizza is love, pizza is life
italian men are forwards as fook
boys are weird. and smell weird.
iphone cam > lumix fz45
(i cannot blog to save my life. bare with me, i will get better)

some florence pix… (follow my ig @photosbysophie for more)

michelangelos david… i would. (note the curly haired secuity guard lady below his right foot who followed me around the entire exhibit grunting “NO-FOTO”


view from the duomo, florence


KIKO makeup. best fuckin bargains going.Image

mazzas sunglasses featuring myself and brodieImage

gorgeous duomo ting


rivoire ho-cho. like drinking a dairy milk.