tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30834717285576853902024-03-14T07:54:25.972+11:00lifeinsizefivesthe dictation of a working traveler whose suitcase is definitely over the weight limit, and only getting bigger with each move!Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-41256852728146538922016-09-13T03:48:00.002+10:002016-09-13T04:25:53.193+10:00Summer 16' and everything in-between...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">Oh Hello September, and hello a very shameful lack of blogging. But here it goes, the last eight months in ahem eight paragraphs? Let's give this a whirl....</span></span></div>
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So starting January, and being as depressed by the cold January blues as one can be, I figured the best way to beat it was to leave. And head to the sun of course! Always having had this romantic notion of Sri Lanka in my head I thought I'd follow this notion through, booked my flights, and a week later found myself in Heathrow airport opening the first pages of my Lonely Planet to read up on the place. Spontaneous? Yes. Silly? No. Probably more silly was my decision to get my nose septum pierced a few days prior. And wonder the eve before I was flying to Sri Lanka why it was hurting quite so much. Cue my boyfriend with a pair of pliers on it the evening before I depart for two months. Remove it we could not, so the morning before my flight I ended up in the only piercers open on a Sunday for them to tell me I had been pierced through the cartilage instead of the septum. Ouch. But hey, anything for fashion, right dahhhling? (it's now firmly out for good...)</div>
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So I landed pretty clueless in Sri Lanka with my plan of five weeks there, and then heading onto India after. A few days in, and my idea of five weeks in Sri Lanka wasn't quite looking as promising as my romantic notions had been. So I racked my brains for where else I could explore in the world, and then booked to head back to my favourite spot: Ubud. I mean, after the septum incident you have to play it safe sometimes right? So I cut my time short, and spent ten days more days in Sri Lanka trying to see and do all I could. I got fat off samosas for breakfast, lunch, dinner (and snacks); skinny from mountain treks in the dark; made friends with locals on the trains; watched the most stunning sunrises and sunsets; saw baby elephants in the wild; and basked on idyllic beaches.</div>
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And then ten days on I found myself back on a plane to my favourite spot in the world: Ubud. A large claim to make I know, and I when booking my return I found myself fearful that the beautiful memories I had made of Ubud would not seem as beautiful when I returned. Gladly this was not so, and when I arrived in the middle of a monsoon downpour with my backpack, unannounced at my old homestay - the grandma came out the house and exclaimed 'you're back!'. And I did feel back home.</div>
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Ubud is an amazing place. Known to the Balinese as the spiritual heart of Bali, I strongly believe this. When I am there I feel a sense of calm I can't seem to get anywhere else. And only in part due to the clean eating, pilates and kind people. Even the sun seeker in me wasn't disheartened by the daily monsoon which only seemed to enhance the beauty of the place. A couple of healers and a couple of weeks on, I left to head back the way I had come.</div>
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Then India called and oh, it was everything and more than I could have dreamt of. The country is awash with more sounds, smells, colours, people, madness and calmness then your senses can imagine. I found myself falling so easily in love with it. From riding camels through Jaisalmer desert, to watching the stars as we fell asleep, to watching the locals live from a house boat in Kochi, to drinking tea on the side of the roads, to acting like kings and queens drinking in the view of the Taj Mahal from the Oberoi, having each mealtime an explosion on your senses and tastebuds, seeing more head wobbles, envying more Saree's, and searching out the best Indian sweets in frantic markets.</div>
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I found the people as fascinating as they found me - the token white girl. People were kind, and given the nature of how poor people are, they're surprisingly generous. India can teach you life lessons again and again. And I know I will always return again and again.</div>
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But I came home and became sensible (ish) and acted, for once in my life, like an adult. Cue a lot of blood, sweat and tears (mainly tears and sweat) and me and my sister got a mortgage on a place in Peckham. Grown up, hey. Well, I did turn twenty-nine in June. And a twenty-nine year old needs to act their age. Or make the most of their last year of their twenties? I'll go for the latter.</div>
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So off to Glastonbury we headed. With enough booze to take down a small army, and many shoes that just would not survive the mud. Tough mudder when high would pretty much sum that long weekend up for me. That and the feeling that the world was going to end on returning to London. And only part to do with Brexit.</div>
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Secret Garden Party came as a vast contrast with England deciding to actually have a summer that weekend. And we basked in our sweat and smiles on the pagoda, dancing away. And the glitter which we so meticulously applied looked so meticulously skew-whiff in the heat. But who cares when you're with your best friends and dancing to Fleetwood Mac.</div>
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A few weekends ago was spent in Berlin clubs with best friends, where getting home at Ten AM has never been so acceptable. We all wore black and nonchalant faces to gain entry, and my friends advice to "dress like your walking your dog" worked well. </div>
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Oh and I moved house once again in all the frenzy, and went back freelance again, cracked more phones, lost more bankcards, turned vegetarian (barr that one drunk time in McDonalds with the nuggets), took up gym classes, left gym classes after the shock to the system ripped my ankle ligament, took up cycling to work on my lovely blue bike with a basket (and only singing Corinne-Bailey-Ray to myself sometimes when doing this), shot some more commercials here and abroad, started writing poetry again, got a few more grey hairs, definitely got a few more laughter lines, and learnt to make a pizza #wifeme</div>
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And yes I'm aware it's more than eight paragraphs, but hey - you try and encapsulate your year into bullet points. Especially when you love to talk...</div>
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Happy end of Summer everyone! </div>
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Emily x</div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.5073509 -0.1277582999999822351.1912379 -0.77320529999998222 51.8234639 0.51768870000001777tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-61707119443899368552015-12-31T12:13:00.001+11:002016-08-03T02:45:04.474+10:00Bali, Boozing and Broken Resolutions : 2015 to 2016...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />Days
turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, and in the blink of an eye I
find myself at the end of December, wondering how 2015 has managed
to fly by so fast. This year has felt the shortest of my life. London is
a rat-race, and my work has pulled me in - jumping from job to job -
great I know, but leaving little time to reflect on anything. Let alone
keep up to date with this blog. (apologies blog).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">I
took time out of the rat-race in August. I'd been working 12 hour days,
had just come back from Ibiza and felt as if my head was about the
explode. Only in part due to the Ibiza fun with 7 other girls ;) I flew
to Ubud, Bali to stay for a month by myself. There I gave up alcohol,
meditated, took up Pilates, read mountains of books, climbed real
mountains, took myself off all social media and all in all just got
myself back to feeling well in mind, body and spirit. And I actually
felt like that. Until I flew back into London on the Friday, and found myself out
on the Saturday night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">And I had great plans for the new me - I really did. I bought a Pilates Mat to get up and use at 6am each day. Warning my housemate that when he was ironing his shirt every morning, I too would be there; practicing Pilates. Two months on he commented how he'd not seen me once.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">I
quickly got sucked into the late nights again, the long hours at work
and treating my body as the complete opposite to a temple. And then
after an exhausting stint of shoots, I decided to take December off work
so I could catch up with all my friends, attend every Christmas party
possible, and well, just have a grand old time here in London.
Subsequently my bank balance is a lot lighter, my waist line is a lot
heavier, and I'm signing up to 'dry January'. With eagerness. Going out
every evening in December has definitely taken its toll, my liver needs a
break, and I wouldn't mind being able to do up my jeans again. But hell
its been fun. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">2016
excites me already. I have plans for Sri Lanka, India, Cuba, and
Glastonbury. This is the first time I've ever managed to get a
Glastonbury ticket and I'm so excited. My boyfriend was rather less
enthused however at my proclamation that I will need two tents - one for
sleeping, and one for my wardrobe. I mean it makes perfect sense to me -
who wants glitter all over their pillow?! So far he's definitely said
no to the idea of a clothes rail coming...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Last New Years Eve I brought it in in Sao Paulo, and the rest of the year has
been absolutely incredible. I
traveled Brazil by myself, danced in Rio Carnival and won it with my
Samba school, moved from South London to East London, threw a festival
just outside Paris for my best friend, watched two of my best friends
get married, was a bridesmaid for one, spent sleepless nights in Ibiza
with 7 girls, ran away to Bali to find my inner-self, found my
inner-self in more East London drinking establishments then I can
count, broke / lost / drowned 5 phones this year, got 2 more tattoos,
shot 12 TV commercials, lost numerous important belongings and dignity,
and did all of this while having some absolutely lovely people come into
my life who I cant imagine not being there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">New Years Eve will be brought in on a London rooftop watching the fireworks. English weather prevailing that is... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Happy New Year everyone, eat, drink and be very merry!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">And bring on 2016!</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-41820221899722887482015-06-12T03:52:00.002+10:002015-06-12T03:52:36.994+10:00Copious amounts of cakes, commercials and hens : life after Rio...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />So I've had my feet back on London soil for a grand total of three and a half months now since Brazil. The 'real' tans firmly faded, the four fillings I needed from Caipriniha overdoses have finally been completed, and my Rio Carnival Costume has safely made it's way across the ocean to reside in my mum's garage. <br /><br /> I've found myself working non-stop on my return from Brazil. Terribly lucky as a freelancer, and terribly needed, as the bank-of-Dad required quite a payback after one's abundance on their travels! I've taken this week off, as a long needed break (and I can already see my sisters eyes rolling at this comment - <i>'you've worked for three months Emily, big deal welcome to the world of a normal worker</i>!') as it's my Birthday week, and I figured I'd be comatosed by Prosecco and cake for days. (I have been).<br /><br /> I've turned the ripe old age of 28, which means every time I get ID'd (twice this month...just saying) it becomes some sort of youth affirming celebration. And obviously I text all my friends with the great news sporting the hashtag #stillgotit. <br /><br />But turning 28 hasn't actually been that scary. Infact, its been rather delightful. With age comes I guess more wisdom, (yes, obviously still waiting for mine) but it also can't help but make you realize what matters most in life... good friends, and good honest people. To be surrounded by that is pretty much all anyone can hope for, and right now I feel lucky enough to have that. Plus, I also got five birthday cakes made by five amazing friends which spelt out my name. (So quite truly...what more could I hope for in life?!). Whilst others may dream of seeing their name in lights, seeing mine in cake was always more of a goal...<br /><br /> Breaking up nicely the last three-and-a-half months back in England, I've been away twice to France on two different hen-do's. One I organized (as a bridesmaid), and one I didn't. I have to say in organizing my best friend's surprise hen-do the pressure really got to me (organizing large scale commercial shoots are a doddle in comparison!), and if anyone is in line to become a future Bridezilla I think its safe to say I'm at the front of the que. One hen task I happily took upon was to arrange an Easter Egg hunt for the girls on Easter day... and obviously the Easter eggs had to be bought three times over before they even made it into my suitcase for Paris. <br /><br />The other hen, I had no part in the organization (phew!) so just paid my money and turned up where I was told to. Or, well, almost did. For some reason I believed the Hen was in taking place Cannes. No-one had thought to correct me that it was infact in Nice, and the bride-to-be only panicked when she saw my Instagram post whilst boarding the plane in London declaring "<i>Cannes I'm coming for you"</i>. Alarm bells ring to her as she has this vision of me getting out at </span></span><span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nice airport in my over-sized hat and heels and dramatically declaring to the nearest taxi '<i>TAKE ME TO CANNES</i>'.</span></span> Which was infact exactly what I was planning on doing. So once switching my phone off from flight-mode I received a mass of redirection messages, and bashfully took myself to Nice. Thank god the airport for Cannes is Nice airport... otherwise it would have been a slightly more costly and disastrous mistake...<br /><br />Aside from getting lost in other countries, I'm getting lost in the enchanting ideas of how to spend this summer in London. The city comes alive, and in the warm summer nights it truly is my favorite place to float around. A little project titled '85 Days of Summer' means that a whole-big glorious London bucket-list is in line to get ticked off this year.<br /><br />July brings two weddings. Remembering to pack my bridesmaid dress to take to Yorkshire for my best friends wedding is something that is worrying me quite a lot, if past scattiness is anything to go by. It's never good when you wake up after a heavy bank-holiday-weekend and feel as though your missing something, to realize sickeningly that somewhere along the pubs you visited last night after you were handed your Bridesmaid dress you no longer have it. And when you raise your eyebrows in shock at this, the feeling of pain also reminds you, that yes, you managed to face-plant a lit cigarette last night too. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Since
the last blog post my little sister ran the Brighton Marathon, one of
my best friends completed the Three Peaks Challenge, and I've managed to
successfully get a refund from McVities about some burnt chocolate
digestives. Whilst my achievement may pale slightly in comparison, hey
it's all baby steps. Plus if I don't stand up for our basic human right
to get an edible biscuit, well, we may aswell not bother having a
democratic society. And I'm all about the politics now I took the
Guardian Internet Quiz the night before the General Election to tell me
which party I should vote for. <br /><br /> I'm moving back East, I have a
new tattoo and I've booked to go to Ibiza... life is feeling pretty
bad-ass right now. Next thing you know I'll be riding a Boris Bike
without a helmet. Turning 28 is hopefully turning over another
incredible year ahead, with filled with good friends, big travels and
plenty more cake. (Oh and mum, don't panic, I'll wear a helmet really).<br /><br />Happy Summer everyone!<br /><br />Emily x</span></span><br />
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com1London, UK51.5073509 -0.1277582999999822351.1912379 -0.77320529999998222 51.8234639 0.51768870000001777tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-15711719293777019842015-03-23T01:54:00.000+11:002015-03-23T01:54:43.196+11:00Sleepless, Long Nights, that is what my Youth was for...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bP_PAJNWktQ/VQ7SBRHKtuI/AAAAAAAACBs/KAvcQ8rVXoM/s1600/photo%2B4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bP_PAJNWktQ/VQ7SBRHKtuI/AAAAAAAACBs/KAvcQ8rVXoM/s1600/photo%2B4.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /><span style="font-size: small;">I did it Ladies and Gents! I, Emily Duffield, speaker of no Portuguese, owner of two left-feet, and know-er of no-one in Brazil, donned on the heaviest, and certainly most extravagant outfit I've ever worn, and sang and paraded my way through Rio Carnival's Sambadrome as part of the Beija-Flor Samba School. Carnival is such a huge deal throughout Brazil - each Samba School represents so much to its people, and whilst it's extremely competitive, it's also the most magnificent spectacle you could possibly ever see, or have the honor of being a part of. The colors are magnificent, the atmosphere is electric, and the excitement is truly indescribable.<br /><br />In all honesty, I couldn't quite believe I'd pulled this one off, and especially now as I sit back in a grey, cold London, I certainly can't. And what makes it even more unbelievable to myself is that my Samba Parade won the whole Rio Carnival! Beija-Flor were announced the winners the hour before I left for my flight home, and as I struggled through the airport with a large additional suitcase, which just managed to fit my costumes headpiece inside to bring home safely, it felt like the icing on the cake of a very sweet, dulce de leche flavored trip. The rest of the outfit is on some ship somewhere over the Atlantic right now, and should hopefully arrive in a huge box sometime before Notting Hill Carnival. Bets are already being taken for which of my male friends has to wear it this year...<br /><br />I spent the last eleven nights of my Brazil trip partying non-stop in Rio. From beach to bloco, from
bloco to nightclub, Brazil doesn't sleep during Carnival, and neither
did I. I needed four fillings (!!) on coming back home, and if that doesn't say Caipriniah overload then I don't know what does. Before my party marathon, however I got back to basics in the Amazon. Intrepid I am, practical I am not...<br /><br />Not the most prepared, I turned up in Manaus the day before I embarked on my Amazon Adventure with a checklist of essentials I had to source for the jungle. Shopping when you cant speak Portuguese, don't know the town, and have stepped right off a 24 hour airport-to-airport sleepless flight made my task all the more difficult. Consequently I turned up to take on the jungle with my following take on the list's essential items (...and I feel this has to come with a 'don't try this at home kids' warning...) :<br /><br />A pair of £10 bright white plastic trainers instead of proper trekking shoes. An umbrella instead of a waterproof raincoat (the only one I could find was a small child's 'Barbie' one and I couldnt move my arms in it so the woman in the shop would not let me buy it) left me praying it wouldn't monsoon. My protective head wear was a gangster cap with 'G-UNIT' written in gold on it. Oh and the trousers to protect me against snake bites? My black Primark leggings. And what was my camouflaged backpack to take with me into the jungle? A bright pink child's rucksack with 'FASHUN' written in large gold letters on. <br /><br />I looked ridiculous, and a safety hazard in itself. When I met my fellow trekkers and they were all attired in head-to-toe mosquito body suits, camouflage clothes, proper shoes, and had been planning it for months, me and my hastily bought bright pink rucksack stood out like a sore, ghetto thumb. David Attenborough would not have been impressed.<br /><br />But practicality issues aside, my time spent in the Amazon truly has to be one of the most magical things I've experienced. To canoeing through floating forests, to camping out in the jungle, watching the sunrise rise over the river whilst surrounded by dolphins, to learning about healing plants and trees it was a beautiful experience. Ok, so my attempt at carving my own cutlery whilst 'surviving' in the jungle left me with chopstick-like utensils (I had to eat with my hands), and my attempt at fishing for my own dinner found me 'catch' the boat and recruit others to help me pull in the 'massive fish' I was struggling with (...we nearly capsized.)</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">And so glitter, lost fish, and samba hips aside, I'm now back in London. Bronzed, hungover and very cold. Back home things haven't changed. You return feeling slightly altered: you've experienced a million different things and your life moved at a million paces; but then your back and things are exactly the same. Whilst comforting, it can't help but make me urge others to go out and see parts of the world before it's too late. Life back home will always wait, but life experiences wont. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">And after spouting off that little hippy freedom speech, I'm now going to directly contradict it, as I am taking the step to being a little less fancy-free, and am attempting to get a mortgage in London. I've lived in seven different places over the last two years, and in all honesty it's about time I had somewhere that I actually could call a home, and it be mine. Plus the sooner I get my own flat, the sooner I can get a French Bulldog right? I have no visions of grandeur with my first home, an ex-council estate in Hackney it will be (says the budget). Well, either that or Essex. But I'm not really into vajazzles, so East London vibes it is.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br />I've just wrapped my first TV commercial of this year, and am starting work on another next week. My body's now used to late nights from laptop spreadsheets rather then samba beats. Whilst the verdicts still out as to which one involves less sleep, I know which one definitely involves more chocolate. <br /><br />I work hard at my career so I can go get lost on dreamy beaches, and last year I Produced an hour long documentary called 'Black and Blue'. Its airing tonight (22nd March) for the first time on Sky Sports 1, at 6.55pm. Shameless self-promotion from me, but if you find yourself at a lost end please do tune in. It was a great pleasure to make, and something I'm extremely proud off.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"> </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">Emily x</span></span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.5073509 -0.1277582999999822351.1912379 -0.77320529999998222 51.8234639 0.51768870000001777tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-88807119891171498682015-02-03T09:30:00.001+11:002015-02-03T09:30:55.065+11:00Coconuts, Caipriniahs and Condoms...Feliz Ano Novo from Brazil !!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Feliz Ano Novo!! A very late, but very Happy New Year to everyone from a sunny Brazil!! Apologies in advanced for formatting errors on the blog, I'm attempting to write it on a severely cracked iphone. I learnt a little too late that hammocks, phones, and balance do not bode well when one is intoxicated by caiprinias. My phone now resides in a sock, has a hissy fit around 3pm daily, and attempting to send emojis means dabbling with shards of cutting glass. I give it until the end of the week. But hey, I made it through all of January with a phone, so Ive got to give myself an air high five for that!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, my trip. I'm not going to lie, on the train to Heathrow Airport I had a sudden reality check about what I was doing coming out here by myself. After losing my bankcard, and not even realising when I arrived in Brazil until the day I flew, it raised several alarming question marks in my own head (and no doubt my parents) about just how capable I am of not being my usual hopeless self when I'm travelling alone on the other side of the world. Well here comes the truth... it's been absolutely fine. In fact its been more then fine, my trip so far has been amazing. Going to a non-Western country on your own as a girl to travel raises quite a few fears, and certain stigmas, but so far in my experience as long as you keep your wits about you and go by the book then you should have little to worry about. I couldn't be prouder, and happier with myself for getting out here and just doing it.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And one thing which continually surprises me is just how receptive everyone seems to be to a solo traveller. I have had no problems meeting people, befriending people, or a lack of invites. Gone out the window are the cliques which are formed back home and everyone seems to get along. I've formed friendships with many people which in day-to-day London life I possibly would have not, and found each of these new different friendships to be an entirely rewarding experience. Something which cant help but open my eyes to how I view new friendships, and how I should change my initial ideas of first impressions back home.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm struggling with the language I'm not going to lie. It took me the first two weeks to say 'thank you' the correct way - 'obrigada'. Until then I had been saying 'arrabiata' (which of course is an italian pasta dish), which was always followed by a palm-to-face moment. Which was then followed by me wondering if it was time for dinner yet.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My lack of even basic Portuguese means I've taken to using lots of grand hand-gestures and facial expressions as an attempt to get my point across. Being the ever organised person I am, I obviously turn up in Brazil without an adaptor for any of my english plugs. Cue me in shop attempting to explain to a confused shop assistant what I want, by grandly mimicking with my hands the plug going into the socket. The shop attendants confusion shifts to a knowledgeable 'Ah Si!'. Perfect, workable hair-straighteners here I come! She returns triumphantly... carrying a pack of condoms. Since that misunderstanding I have somewhat downplayed hand actions, I am still yet to find an adaptor, and I am still yet to have straight hair.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Alas, I've fared no better reading Portuguese. Such as that time I was on a night bus and misread the buttons in the loo. Theres me pushing the panic button wondering why it wouldn't flush, until theres people at the door and little english me shouting 'It's fine I'm just trying to flush!!'. Or that time (well, three times) that I've doused my hands in liquid sweetener at cafes, reading the front to be antibacterial hand-wash.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But let's start from the beginning; Sao Paulo. I turn up on New Years Eve to the hostel I frantically booked last minute, to find out my booking was so last minute that they don't have it. And that the one person working there trying to explain this to me doesn't speak any English. The only space they have left is a solo room. I take the solo room and walk into the dormitory to introduce myself to make NYE friends...and nobody speaks English. Or seems interested. I walk back to my room and the door handle falls off, locking my belongings behind it. I spend the next hour with the hostel employee on google translator - 'I need to make friends tonight - dont want to be on my own...' - 'what kind of friends' -'no i think your misunderstanding me' and another half-hour trying to get the door handle back on to retrieve my belongings. By now its 9.30pm, I'm terribly sweaty, despairing, and leave for another hostel. </span></span><span style="color: #999999; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">On entering my next hostel two English speaking girls are just about to leave for New Year festivities. I take two minutes to change from my twenty-hour flight clothes, wipe the sweat off my brow and stick a bindi on. I have never spent so little time ever getting ready, let alone on NYE. All vanity has pretty much gone out the window on this trip, along with the thought of ever having straight hair, or proper makeup on. My companions take me to a club, and we drink Caiprinias first on the street. All the Brazilians are dressed in white as it's meant to bring good-luck and prosperity for the year ahead. I'm head to toe in dark blue; so go figure. And so, I dance my jet-lag off in a cachaca induced state with perfect strangers who are all saying Feliz Ano Novo and someone is even sick down my leg (thank god for flip-flops), but in the imperfect madness of it all it became a perfect New Year. And one I'll certainly never forget.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I move on from sprawling, hot Sao Paulo to the beautiful Florianopolis. And from there to the breathtaking Igacu Falls. And briefly into Argentina (but no steak!). And from there to the rhythms of the Salvador streets. And from Salvador to the pretty little town Lencois and to trek Chapade Diamantina National Park. And from there to the Unesco World Heritage town Olinda. And then from there onto Natal, and then onto the beautiful beaches of Praia da Pipa, which is where I am currently residing.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And what have I learnt so far from all of this? Brazil is BIG. I've travelled on more 28-hour bus journeys then I want to think about again, and I've eaten at more roadside pitstops then restaurants. But thats what travelling is, being on the road right? And by damn Brazil has a lot of it.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After all my grand designs on go-pros, and different cameras, and camera head-straps, I've realised that the best moments on this trip just cant be captured on camera. Like swimming in a lake at night surrounded by fireflies. Or boating right up to the mouth of Igacu Falls and laughing so hard that I am choking on the water flying in my face. Or lying out looking at a full moon and the most stars I've ever seen through the leaves of dancing palm trees. Or playing dominoes on the street with some old men that speak no English, and me no Portuguese. Or trying to keep up to the pounding drum beats at a sweaty Bloco in Salvador. And then after the Bloco *ahem* be interviewed by Brazilian television afterwards and be asked to dance like a Brazilian for the camera. Proving the point - Definately not one of my best moments captured on camera.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My plans of coming home a skinny traveller have quickly diminished with the Brazilians diet. Revolving round meat, cheese and bread (fried of course) for every meal, I am just thankful my harem pants are elasticated. Thank god for the caiprinias are giving me one of my five a day!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My backpacks ridiculous. I shouldn't have packed half the rubbish I did. And I'm too stubborn to throw any of it, so I spend half my time nearly toppling over once its on, and purposely booking hostels that do not require an uphill walk. Luckily Brazilian men are so charming, and helpful. And in my packing panic of quite how many hot-pants I should bring, I forgot the key essential of packing enough underwear. Cue me turning a group walking tour in Salvador into the guide having to take me underwear shopping. And cue him telling me after, that the shop was laughing at me as I did not buy the norm (thongs), but instead only pants that grandmas wear.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've nearly been here just over a month and I don't want to stop. England seems a bit of a far away dream, and a cold one at that. I cant recommend getting away enough to people, and now I've done this I can't recommend enough just doing it by yourself. Pushing your boundaries is all part of finding out who you are and what you can do. My next stop on this journey is the Amazon, to sleep in the forest, catch my own food, and carve my own forks and plates out of trees and stuff. Whilst it all sounds very Bear Grylls, I have the feeling the only boundary I will be pushing is starvation, as I cant say I'm too optimistic about my survival skills. I think the mosquitos will be feeding better than me...</span></span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0Brasil-14.235004 -51.925279999999987-67.751949 -134.5424675 39.281941 30.691907500000013tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-28705492974720782332014-12-31T08:21:00.001+11:002014-12-31T08:21:56.697+11:00I dream of Rio... HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! x<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />December has been a tipsy whirlwind of work, Christmas parties, packing, new tattoos, and eating. I don't know why it is, but the only film shoots I do outside always happen in December. In the freezing cold. For several days. However, all was forgiven by the Ad Agency coming over from India with bags of bindi's. Nothing of course to do with the 'moodboard' of bindi's I sent over to them prior to there arrival. Probably my hardest work on the shoot if I do say so myself. (that can also be firmly backed up by the Producer...) </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Christmas has been and gone and I rolled like a pig in a blanket (well, fur coat) back to London after leaving a note in my mothers fridge to apologize for eating all the chocolates. And taking all the cheese. I got myself some red Lana Del Rey-esque talons done before Christmas, so unfortunately I was put out of action on the sprout peeling this year for Christmas dinner. Shame. It appears all one can do with these nails is drink Prosecco? But in all seriousness, glamorous whilst they are, highly impractical they also are. The first night I realized I had to remove my contact lenses with them, it was touch and go as to whether I might have an eyeball left. No wonder only footballers wives don them on, or people with 20/20 vision. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This was the first year I have been back home for Christmas since 2008. My families happiness at my presence was only slightly tarnished by the realization that late on Christmas Eve I had rolled in drunk, and managed to consume ALL the smoked salmon meant for Christmas breakfast. Not ideal, even less so when ones hopeless cooking skills mean your unable to whip up a good egg dish to substitute. I had also managed to drunkenly destroy a contact lens (damn you lovely nails) so my comeuppance was spending Christmas feeling terribly off-balance from a one-seeing eye. (well that and the Prosecco.) </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2014's been an incredible roller-coaster of a year. I've pushed my own boundaries, had some rock bottom moments, and had some of my happiest moments. Right now as I stand on the brink of this New Year I'm happier and more self-assured then I have ever been with myself, and where I'm headed in life. Growing up, and learning who you are and what you want is something that takes time. I'm off to Brazil for two months on my own, because I never want to dream something and not do it. Following that, I plan to live in Ibiza for the summer, and then India and Sri Lanka for the winter. With a little bit of lovely London in-between of course. My carbon footprint in 2015 is going to be well and truly trod.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Obviously I'm embarking on this Brazilian New Year trip in the way I do best - like an idiot. To start things off, yesterday I lost my bankcard. With all my money on. And no way to get another one in time. Did I mention I'm flying tonight?</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />Secondly, I casually look at my flight ticket this morning to see what airport I'm going from, to realize I am not landing in Sao Paulo on New Years day like I thought, but I actually arrive at six o'clock on New Years Eve. I mean seriously - who books flights, and doesn't even check when they arrive in the country until the day before?! Cue major freakout. I'M GOING TO BE IN SAO PAULO FOR NYE! This is going one of two ways - disastrous, or amazing. Or maybe both. Probably both...</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> I'm picking up my Rio Carnival costume for the parade in Rio. For those of you who haven't seen the pictures - it's huge and looks to weigh about the same amount as me. I'm probably (definitely) going to fall. But I have a go-pro (thank you dad!) and I have a headstrap for the camera - so at least my fall can be caught in all its glory in the Sambadrome! Apart from those plans, I'm pretty, well, unplanned. I know I want to be on a beach, and I've got my malaria tablets for the Amazon (check out that for organization!) so I'll be heading there too. I've packed my glittery hotpants, and a glittery waistcoat, and will probably break all the Amazon fashion rules by wearing them both on a trek. At the same time. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> It's exciting, its exhilarating, and I can't wait to share all the stories and pictures! I'm off to the airport now, so I wish everyone a very Happy New Year! And as to 2015... bring it on! </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Emily x</span></span></span> </span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo by Paul J. Beard</span></span></td></tr>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.5073509 -0.1277582999999822351.1912379 -0.77320529999998222 51.8234639 0.51768870000001777tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-91781155438233827172014-12-01T10:19:00.001+11:002014-12-01T10:19:32.828+11:00I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: small;">Since the last blog, there has been not only one, but two engagements within my circle of friends. Utterly ecstatic for them both, my nine year-old self is also jumping inside, as I have the honor of being a bridesmaid for one of them. I've waited twenty-seven years to play this part, and cannot wait for the two weddings next summer. I also cannot wait for the hens - although I have strictly been warned about midget strippers...</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: small;">However, one can't help but notice a direct parallel when two of your best friends are now planning their weddings, organizing their mortgages, and you just spent the the weekend before last wandering around Amsterdam believing you were a giant tulip. (that's a joke mum - don't worry!) But yes, I was in Amsterdam last weekend. And yes, I am still slightly ruined now. I am also terribly addicted to stroop waffles (no-one got there presents), but that's a whooole other story. And on wondering why I might feel so bad of late, I count back on my calender and realize I have been partying for the last seventeen weekends without a break. So this weekend I hung up my worn-out party shoes, did my Christmas shopping, and booked my escape to Brazil. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />My dream is now a reality, and I will find myself in Sao Paulo for New Years Day. I'll be away for two months, and I'm venturing their on my own. The independence of that is terribly exciting, exhilarating and liberating, and I intend to make the most of every single minute. I mean what could go wrong?! The last time I went to South America I only got altitude sickness, bitten by a dog, and spent every other day getting rabies jabs in hospitals... and I was with someone... </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've been warned about how strong </span><span style="font-size: small;">the Caipirinha's are on the beach, and I've been warned even more so about the Brazilian men. And, quite rightfully, I fully hope to fall in love with a bronzed, speedo wearing 'Tiago' along the way. My plans are excitable, if not slightly scatty, with my notebook consisting of lists of things such as <i>"Visit the Snoop Dog steps"</i> and <i>"go to Christ the Reindeer".</i> It was only at my sisters hysterical laughter at my indignation that that was the translation, that I realized it's actually <i>'Christ the Redeemer'</i>. Which reminds me, I really need to learn some Portuguese.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: small;">Apart
from trekking the Amazon, visiting waterfalls and soaking up beaches,
the one plan I have already put into motion is...dance in Rio Carnival.
Yes that's right, I have joined a Samba School (in Rio), I am choosing
my costume, and I, Emily Duffield will be dancing along in the 2015 Rio
Carnival Parade. All I have to do is make it along to the rehearsals (in
the Favela eek) and fit in the brashly colored clown costume. These
English hips better do me proud.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas
is so close that you can practically smell it. The lights are on in
Oxford Street, I'm living in colored variations of the same woolly
jumper, and I've already eaten my way through three advent calenders.
Two of which weren't even my own (sorry housemates!). This years list
for Santa is more practical rather then pretty, and involves things like
trek towels, mosquito repellent, and a head strap for my Go-Pro Camera.
Thats right, I've surpassed the selfie-stick, and am taking it one step
further on my trip - a camera strapped to my head. Spot the tourist
anyone?<br /><br />Tis the season to be Jolly, and Christmas parties are in
full-swing. Being freelance means I have a full list to attend this
year, and wanting to still be employed next year means I will have to
watch the amount of mulled-wine consumed...<br /><br />Happy 1st of December everyone!<br /><br />Emily x</span></span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.5073509 -0.1277582999999822351.1912379 -0.77320529999998222 51.8234639 0.51768870000001777tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-55638637027508554852014-10-18T00:25:00.002+11:002014-10-18T00:28:51.822+11:00Footballs, Swedes and Copacabana dreams : PUG LIFE in London<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Well, first things first, let's start with the most important news since the last blog. Ive fallen in love. True, deep L.O.V.E. With a friends fat (sorry big-boned) pug called 'Miss Piggy'. Miss Piggy by name and definitely by nature, she seems to know no commands except for eat. Everything. Sadly my dreams of doggy fashion and matching pink outfits to a pink leash were left behind when on our recent outing she didn't fit in any of the doggy clothes in Primrose Hill Pet shop. But it just means there's just more to Miss Piggy to love, and she is further fueling my desire for my own little doggy one day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Since my last post I have been working non-stop jumping from job to job, which as a freelancer is ideal, for my bank balance is ideal but for sleep and holidays is definitely not ideal. My Ibiza holiday was replaced by the fact that I couldn't turn down a month of work, and my lack of summer holiday this year meant an unplanned trip to Stockholm this weekend just gone was long overdue, if not a bit silly with a shoot planned for the Monday. Attempting to board a packed plane at Heathrow on a Friday night whilst attempting to get a callsheet out is far from ideal. The only bright-side about embarking the plane whilst holding my laptop aloft sending emails meant that there was no danger of me leaving it in the airport chocolate shop this time. Every cloud hey....! </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sweden is beautiful, expensive and full of men in bow-ties. It boasts the tastiest restaurant food I've ever eaten, the most dubious named bars of chocolate ...('plopp' being my favorite), and bicycles with brakes on the pedals. Braking being something I was unable to master, stopping came in the form of a wall, a fence, or my own feet running along with the bike. Exhilarating yes, graceful, no. I had meatballs, Daim bars, reindeer heart (sorry Rudolf), Smörgåsbord, and *ahem* MacDonalds. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Summer is officially over (oh hiiii grey clouds), and I saw it out by attending London's last festival of the year 'Found'. I'd like to say I saw it out in style, but if my inebriated-self at the end of the night was anything to go by, it definitely was not that. Yes there was a lot of glitter, yes it was a lot of fun, and yes I woke up at 5am in a friends room wondering if I would ever feel human again. A direct contradiction to the idea that the older you get, the wiser you are... </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Last month I Produced my first documentary on a past Chelsea football player. Quite ironic as I had never even been to a football match before, and certainly something which the football agent we were working with could not seem to fathom. I don't think my constant reference to the 'shed-end' as the 'cow shed' helped my weight on the subject either. The documentary is due to be aired by the BBC later in the year. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Halloween is fast approaching which leaves one with the question of what to wear? Last year I dressed up as a Fortune Teller for 'Mulletover' and very surprisingly won their best dressed of the night. So no pressure this year then...!? My grand plans of a Cleopatra-esque costume have been quelled by the next three-week stint I have shooting 14 hour days out at Black Island Film Studio's and I'm thinking Walking-Zombie will probably be a much more realistic costume...</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But I complain not, as all my recent work means that my dreams of Rio De Janeiro in 2015 are now a reality, and I once again will be escaping the cold winter blues and taking a break from work by heading to Brazil for a few months in February. I can't wait, I have dreamed of sipping Caipirinha's on Copacabana beach and dancing at Rio Carnival for years. I'm practicing my Shakira hips already, and working up a tolerance to rum. (I can already see my friends disbelief at this statement) (and in all honesty I don't believe it myself).</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">London's getting colder and I've bought my winter hat. Large, fluffy and white, I resemble a giant cotton wool bud, but it's oh so soft to touch. I've started getting my nails done as I feel it ads to ones professional demeanor. Well, anything has to help when weeks through a job you realize the laptop you take to work everyday has your 'life goals' open on a bright pink stickie note, and no.1) is to go raving in Berlin. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Growing-up is still something I'm struggling to master, but I'm having a pretty fun time figuring it out right now...</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com5London, UK51.5073509 -0.1277582999999822351.1912379 -0.77320529999998222 51.8234639 0.51768870000001777tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-32508122533846460172014-07-29T19:40:00.001+10:002014-07-29T19:40:33.864+10:00Hot Summer Sun : London Life <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Good Morning London!<br /><br />I
can only profusely apologize for my lack of time in the blogsphere
since I returned from L.A. On touch down at Heathrow airport from Los
Angeles, the international idiot that I am had managed to make it back
without a laptop. Having left my pride and joy (not to mention all my
work!) back in Detroit airport it took a good month and plenty of
panicked 3am phone-calls to Detroit airport staff, Fedex America staff,
and some amazing help off a friend's American family to get it safely
back in my arms. Well, that is, apart from the 3 large cracks down the
center of its screen.<br /><br />We wont mention the fact that this disaster
could have been averted had I not left it amongst the sweet aisle when
buying chocolate on the stop-over flight...</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Life's
been hectic since my return, and I've spent the last few months in
London jumping from one home to another, jumping from one freelance
Production job to another, and in-between all of this attempting to find
a frozen yogurt which rival's L.A's. As of yet America's froyo is still
winning. I have finally settled, and on watching television in my new
home last night it was amazingly rewarding to see two of my recent
adverts I've helped produce come on within the same ad-break. Hard-work
paying off!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My
clothing line has been a slow work in progress, but my first design is
done, and has been sent off to be printed. Now I just need to spend a
few days sitting around in arty cafes, eating overpriced cakes, and
throwing out ideas to uninterested friends to come out with a
one-syllable brand name. On the sideline I have signed up with a
modelling agency for print work, and I am shooting for a friends
headband brand this week.<br /><br />Recently finding myself single in this
big ol' city I have done what any self respecting 20-something would do,
and joined Tinder of course! Although I really feel the need to have
words with the many guys who seem to feature exotic birds in there
profile pictures...what is all that about?! I also need to have a
serious word with my friends who have a great time matching me with
complete crazies whenever I leave the room... <br /><br />If one wishes to
read a hilarious article on just how BAD men are on tinder then my
Australian friend Alex conducted her own little experiment here :
https://funnellism.wordpress.com/2014/07/01/proof-men-love-crazy-women/<br /> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">With
England beating Barbados temperatures in its heatwave this last month, I
do not feel so bad about my so far lack of a summer holiday abroad.
What does make one feel bad however, is attending LoveBox Festival in 31
degree heat, only to hydrate on alcohol. All day. The inevitable
dehydration was nicely set-off the sunburn. Which in turn was nicely set
off by my glittery hot-pants.<br /><br />But a summer holiday is not
completely lost for me, and Ibiza is on the cards for September. Now as
an Ibiza virgin at the age of 27, this holiday has been long over-due.
Too long have I heard people rave about Pacha, the best DJ's in the
world, and the overuse of body paint... well soon enough I can be
annoying people with my tales of raves and glitter! 'Future tattoo
funds' have been changed to 'Ibiza overpriced drink funds', and I have
Kevin and Perry Go Large on repeat. </span></span></span><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
city is utterly captivating in the summer sun, and I would rather be
nowhere else. London's hot evenings were made for picnics, parks, views,
wine and friends... something which I am making the most of.<br /><br />Happy Summer!<br /><br />Emily x</span></span></span><br />
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com3London, UK51.5073509 -0.1277582999999822351.1912379 -0.77320529999998222 51.8234639 0.51768870000001777tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-46695824339722577912014-03-26T06:02:00.000+11:002014-03-26T06:02:27.602+11:00Los Angeles to London. With love (and extra baggage...)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />So here I am at LAX, awaiting my flight. <br /><br />I'm too excited to make London my base again. I fell in love with the city last summer, and I'm sure that feeling will continue this year. It's about time I began to root myself, stop always flying away and have a base (for a time). I'm sure the fact that I know I'm coming home to warmer weather then I left is prompting this thought, but hell, I feel like being more settled. And what can settle one more then the pitter-patter of tiny feet? No, not a baby I hear you gasp...but a sausage dog? Ive wanted one for far too long now. Maybe the time is finally right? I'm sick of pretending to walk 'Frankie' down the street when no-ones around, maybe I just need to man up and walk a REAL one. Although 'Frankie' is very good with commands!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But that's a by-thought, really whats occupying my mind is two things. Number one; quite how expensive and inaccessible is froyo going to be back in the UK, and number two; quite how much money do I need to open my own froyo palace in East London? </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've got far too much stuff. I'm currently wearing five layers underneath a fur coat, and I've got Reece's Buttercups tucked into my shoes. The metal detector is going to have a whale of a time when I go through, and the Reece's are already starting to melt from the heat radiating off my highly layered body. This is going to be one very messy arrival at London Heathrow. I do this every time and never learn. Next time I'm going to need a man to help with this, or at least have enough left on my credit card to buy extra baggage allowance. I'm now starting to panic that I gave my boyfriend the right flight arrival details, as if not I'll be paying people in squashed Reece's Buttercups to help me lug it all onto the tube. Oh who am I kidding, I'll have eaten them all on the flight. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I give my tan three weeks until I'm back to applying to several layers of Garnier sun-shimmer. And I've given my social life two weeks where I can loftily say <i>'Oh this tan? It's just from living in Los Angeles the last three months dah-ling'.</i> And then it will be over. And people will be coming back from Ibiza more bronzed, and I'll be fuming as I spent all my would-be Ibiza funds on drinking Slurpee's out here. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But I've had the best time, met some amazing people (although not Ryan Gosling), and happily ticked off one of my life's ambitions. I couldn't be prouder of myself for just doing it, and couldn't stress more the belief that if there's something you want to do, well you should just do it (as long as its like socially acceptable ya know). </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /> </span></span><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Oh
and Dad, I'm onto Tattoo no.7. I'm sorry, but it had to be done. I now
bear an angel wing behind my right ear as a dedication to my time in the
City of Angels. I hope it looks good, as I can't see behind my ear, and
I went to the tattoo shop on my own. Hold up - he's blatantly inked a
penis behind my ear hasn't he?! I knew I shouldn't have made that joke
about his beard... <br /><br />Los Angeles you've been the best, but London, your going to be even better.<br /><br />Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com2Los Angeles International Airport, 1 World Way, Los Angeles, CA 90045, USA33.9415889 -118.4085299999999833.8888974 -118.48921099999998 33.9942804 -118.32784899999999tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-58318292434250965042014-03-24T05:23:00.000+11:002014-03-24T05:23:49.589+11:00March Madness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />My time here has flown by, and this time next week my feet will be firmly on the ground back in London. Well not firmly, as lets face it, they never are, and even less so when I have been drinking (Bambi on ice springs to mind)...something which I hope I will be doing a lot of when I return. Not from drowning my sorrows, but from catching up with ALL my friends (*cough*cough* everyone I'm coming home!).</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This last month has gone even quicker then normal, probably as it's just been one big holiday. The clean-living and daily swimming routine I had going on went straight out the window the minute I left Mama Linda's (corn-chowder recipe in hand of course), moved to Santa Monica, and picked up my boyfriend from the airport. The lack of gym, pool, and eating burgers for ten days straight will kinda do that to you. Not to mention an impromptu trip to Las Vegas and copious amounts of Bacardi 151 (the devil in drink form *shudder*).</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After
waving goodbye to my love (with the promise that it's salads all the
way for us back in London) I was re-united with my sister and a good
friend, and a day later I can honestly say I don't think The Getty Art
Gallery has ever seen three quite so hungover souls. A highlight of
their time here was our visit to Disneyland as the 'Three Mouseketeers'.
At the age of 26 I dressed as a giant Minnie Mouse for the day, and
yes, I loved it. The greatest acheivement of the week however, had to be
when we got enough stamps on our froyo loyalty card to receive a free
8oz of frozen yogurt. It was a proud moment for all involved.<br /><br />I've
been lucky enough to be with people the last month who have been brave
enough to drive on the right hand-side of the road. And the only
slightly hairy moment of the whole time has to be when my friend
straddled three lanes of traffic oncoming at 70mph and casually asked <i>'Is this legal ?'</i>. Needless to say there was a small amount of hyperventilating coming from myself on the backseat. <br /><br />March
has brought along two more new snack obsessions. First, Recces Peanut
Buttercups. For some bizarre reason I've always believed I disliked
them, without even trying them. However, try them I did, and it was as
though my mouth had just bitten into a small part of heaven and all its
creamy, nutty glory. Since then I have been eating at least
one Reece's a day, with the justification that I cannot get these back home.
When my friend pointed out I could indeed buy them back in the UK, I
shushed her and proceeded to buy a pack of four. The other new fad in my
life is 7/11's Slurpee. It's like I've reverted back into a second
childhood where instead of being allowed to drink one a year, I can drink a
x-large 44oz one a day. And I do. The only reported side effect so far
is a blue tongue.<br /><br />My suitcase is already straining from all my
thrift shop purchases out here, so I was highly relieved (if not
embarrassed) when my sister rather incredulously informed me that ranch
dressing is available in England, so there is no need for me to bulk buy
out here. <i>'How have you never tried it?? You wrote a whole blog about it, and they sell it in Subway Emily.' </i>Ok, so I've never been a sandwich kinda-gal, but now I know that's where the ranch is at... Subway, hello. <br /><br />Since
I've been out here I've found myself really influenced by the
creativity, and
the get-up-and-go attitude of the Los Angele's people. The American
Dream is truly alive and kicking, and if someone wants to achieve
something, well, hell they go out and do it. Us Brits are notorious for
talking down dreams we have and putting aside projects we would love to
do. When I get back home I have several exciting work projects in the
pipeline, but a sideline venture which I am really excited to get
started on is my own clothing brand. I've been really inspired by all
the self-made brands out here, and look forward to putting my own stamp
on things. <br /><br />My final two days are going to be spent chomping Reece's, shooting one last fashion shoot, and stuffing as much froyo as
possible without suffering from brain-freeze. Oh, and of course looking
out for the elusive Mr Gosling. <br /><br />LAX I'll see you soon, Ryan hopefully sooner...<br /><br />Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0Santa Monica, CA, USA34.0194543 -118.491191233.9668118 -118.5718722 34.0720968 -118.4105102tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-21257745552607110802014-02-28T04:23:00.002+11:002014-02-28T04:23:23.281+11:00Froyo, Flu and Freckles...February in the sun.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br />So it's official. I love L.A, and I love frozen yogurt. I'm twelve days straight at the moment and bar the brain-freeze, maaan it feels good. Or rather I should say, tastes good. And I should know. I've fully sampled my local Yogurtland's WHOLE range, and when a new flavor of the month came out at the weekend (red velvet cupcake in-case your interested) even I was embarrassed at how excited I got.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">So I figure as an avid lover of frozen yogurt who could be a better brand ambassador then moi? Ok, so the one time I tried this with Pepsi they didn't quite fall for it, but I was pitting myself against the likes of Britney Spears and Beyonce. Yogurtland's mascot is like a cow or something, so I figure our appeals on a similar par. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">Yogurtland I hope your hearing this. I would write to them to tell them this, but hey who uses letters in this day and age. Instead I plan to work my way in through instagram... by posting heavily filtered froyo's and hash-tagging the hell out of them. I think this is the best option; my boyfriend back in the UK is pretty sick of waking up each morning to a different whats-app picture of a frozen yogurt, so I need to expand my audience. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">Apart from building up my collection of Yogurtland's takeaway spoons, since my last blog post I have been lucky enough to shoot a lot of fashion with some great photographers and companies. (And Father since your last email, I apologize in advance for the smoking in the above images). One of my favorite shoots was on Venice Beach, and shot entirely on old film cameras. The fun really is in waiting to get the images back, completely unsure of how they are going to turn out. And all the films imperfections only add to its charm. (for the ease of distinguishing the film from digital I have placed them at the end of this post!) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">And when I haven't been shooting Ive been flu-ing. If that is such a word. My mouse-like immune system has not taken well to being in and out of the cold Californian sea, and my glands decided to swell up sumo-wrestler style. Now I'll admit I'm a hypochondriac at the best of times, so I self-diagnosed glandular fever and started crying about having to book flights home. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">I didn't book flights home however, as I found out my boyfriend had booked us tickets to Disneyland as my Valentines day present, and I'll be dammed if I don't live out my dream in March and go round for the day dressed as Minnie Mouse. So I ate an entire pack of jelly vitamin C tablets. Didn't help, but hey, they tasted like fruit pastels. Cue Mama Linda and her '<i>super chicken corn chowder soup</i>'. It may have looked like the dogs dinner, but it worked. Like a dream. And coincidentally it also tasted like a dream. Creamy, chickeny and potatoey it is yet another thing to add to my growing list of favorite American foods. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">The weather is still delightfully sunny, and I have grown freckles. It's only taken twenty-six years. If I could have told this to my thirteen year old self who used to try to recreate them with brown felt-tip, then I feel my teenage years may have been less angsty, and would have looked less like I had some weird large blackheads on my nose every weekend. My twenty-six year old self however has suddenly realized its only going to age me, and little too late has bought an anti-wrinkle cream and decided to start applying suncream. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">I look forward to the month of March as I have some really special people coming out to see me. One of those is my baby sister who I have not seen for over a year due to her living in Australia. Like me she has wanderlust, a taste for the sun, and also like me she has written into <i>The Ellen Show</i> to play on our 'reunion' story. (Ellen give us tickets - and possibly a car too?!) Whilst my loved ones are out here I plan on playing the tourist and adding to my tattoo collection with some new ink. <br /><br />I'm leaving Mama Linda and the beautiful Marina Del Rey to move to an apartment in Santa Monica for the next month. I'll miss Mama Linda's home cooking, but shes promised to send me on my way with a full compilation of the best Motown and her corn chicken chowder recipe. </span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">February may be drawing to a close, but my Yogurtland campaign is only starting... cows beware.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">Emily x</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Above images shot on CONTAX 645 - 80mm Lens - BW - ACROS 100 Film by Gabe Sachs</span></span></span></td></tr>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0Los Angeles, CA, USA34.0522342 -118.243684933.2099567 -119.5345784 34.8945117 -116.95279140000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-72492661254233347212014-02-16T16:09:00.000+11:002014-02-16T16:09:56.304+11:00California Soul...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />It's been a long time coming, but here is it, my first blog from sunny California. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I touched down just over a month ago, raring and ready to start this adventure to immediately be put to at an abrupt halt in New York airport. Due to bad snow conditions the airport was at a standstill, and my connecting flight to the sunshine of L.A looked like a distant dream. Told I could not get a seat on another flight for three days, and with no hotels available I received my meal tickets, made friends with the caretaker, and took up residency on the airport floor. New Yorkers are notoriously rude, and the ones I encountered were no different. Apart from one. A young woman at the flight desk offered me her spare room to use after she finished her second job at the hospital that night. I was touched by a strangers kindness. (Obviously I didn't take her up on the offer....she could have been an axe-murderer for all I knew), but it warmed my heart in a somewhat chilly airport.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After sobbing to flight desks and sobbing to my boyfriend back in London (o2 phone-bill LOVED that one!) I finally managed to get a standby seat on a flight a day later. Heavy heart lifted, I arrived in L.A, got to my hostel....and then it sank again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was on Hollywood Blvd. At night. Now if you guys have ever been to Hollywood, you will know it ain't like the movies! It's not a good place to be at night, and the colorful mix of crackheads and prostitutes make it even the more uninviting. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I kicked myself into action (after all I was not going to leave the sunshine for cold back home quite so easily) and I quickly found myself a place to live. With a heated pool, jacuzzi, gym and my own balcony I finally started to feel like I was in L.A. And the best bit about it all? The woman I live with. 'Moma' Linda is like my black American mom. She listens loudly to Aretha Franklin, cooks the best homemade burgers, gives me donuts for breakfast, and when I get a job says things like <i>'Baby Gurl I am so proud of you!'. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And I have been working hard. On my tan. Bearing in mind the last time I was properly in the sunshine was one whole year ago when I was living in Australia, this has been a welcome break. L.A has peak tanning from 12 - 2pm so regardless of wherever I am, I try to get out at this point and expose any flesh I can to the sunlight. Envision baby turtles scuttling to the sea to survive...well that's me at midday running into the last patch of sunlight on pavement. The Californians think I'm stark raving mad... "it's the winter dude?!" but they just don't understand what its like for us sun-deprived Brits. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But apart from the tanning I quite seriously have been working too. On a few American Film Institute short films, a 'tinder' documentary (which co-incidentally is filming back in London in March... if anyone wants to be on it hit me up!), and had several exciting meetings with Production Houses out here. I have also been working with some lovely L.A photographers on several fashion shoots (pictures soon to be on the blog!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">One thing which has come to me as a huge eyeopener is the large gulf between the rich and the poor in America. Due to my fear of driving on the right hand side of the road, I've been exposed to it more then most whilst taking the public transport. And let me tell you, taking public transport out here can be a rather scary experience. Unlike in London where everyone and anyone uses the tube, out here only crazies, drug-dealers and Mexican cleaners seem to be on the bus. And that is no exaggeration. The bus drivers are like the toughest people I've ever seen (especially the ones with the Hollywood and Downtown LA routes), and they have to be.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When I'm not getting harassed at the bus-stop for cigarettes, or trying to ward off the weed fumes coming from the gangs hanging around, I witnessed a rapping man the other day. He just would not stop rapping. To no-one and everyone. I couldn't figure out if I was impressed or scared (a little of both I think) but all I kept thinking in my head is <i>'this is so #america right now Emily'.</i> Yes, I hash-tagged in my own head. I kind of wanted to look, but I didn't want to be drawn into like a bus rap-battle as I didn't need to show him up with my own rapping skillz. (I see my friends rolling there eyes here...oh god is white middle-class Emily drunk and trying to rap again?)...moving on anyway....</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Macklemore was not lying, I've been popping tags in the thrift shops out here! They are awesome, and before my time is up I plan on dedicating a post to the best thrifty's here in this big ol' city. And there is a lot of them. You can tell a good one by the smell of bad breath... the worse the smell, the better the bargains. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's taken its damn time and a lot of frozen yogurt, but L.A living has
seriously won me round. The sunshine each day is just so uplifting, as
is the positive attitude of most of the people out here. The TV is
trash, there's a Starbucks on every corner, and there are free
refills on giant size sodas. Everywhere. I also have come across quite
possibly my new favorite food. I use the term 'food' rather loosely
here (I could eat a plate of it) but I'm sure most other people would
see it as a *ahem* dressing. Ladies and gents I present, RANCH DIP. Creamy, garlicky and oh so good (bad), I will be filling my suitcase home with
bottles. To every other American its just 'raaaanch man', but to me...well its been an eye-opener let me tell you. On what
us Europeans are missing out on! (friends you will be re-educated back
home).</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My hair has gone darker yet again due to the hair-dyes 'ash brown' color coming out jet-black, and due to me using a permanent dye, well there isn't really much I can do about it. But now I'm tanning the color of what I'd describe as 'stained wood' I figure looking more Mexican can only aid me on my frequent bus rides out here. So really, the positives outweigh my hair faux pas (although my forehead still has a black-stain a week on...) </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I guess I'm kind of on a sabbatical out here, and I tell you what....I thoroughly recommend it. Book that ticket, and get on that plane. Life is just too short. You have a dream, chase it. It's that simple. Or at least it was to me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And I don't regret it yet...<br /></span></span><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com1Los Angeles, CA, USA34.0522342 -118.243684933.2099567 -119.5345784 34.8945117 -116.95279140000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-35924548722651514762013-10-29T03:14:00.000+11:002013-10-30T19:30:42.939+11:00Tattoos, Flights, Fat Cats, New Flats and a Hazardous 4 Bird Roast : the last three months...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's been a while since my last blog post, and when I look to evaluate the past three months, yet again its flown by, and yet again a lot has happened... </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In my last post the weather was sunny, my hair was blonde, and I was complaining about dry sandwiches at The Savoy. The weather is now windily pr-empting winter, my hair is dark, and The Savoy were kind enough to offer myself complimentary champagne and nibbles in the American Bar to make up for the dry sandwiches. Oh the power of a blog (thank you social media!).</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Since then I've moved from South to East. First 'temporarily' into my boyfriends bedroom in Bethnal Green. Cue four
weeks later, and the novelty of living out of bin bags (which was never
really there to start with) had run very, very, dry. Now I don't know how many
of you have ever searched for somewhere to live in London, but let me
tell you, when your on a budget and don't want to sign a years lease it
is hellish, and a rat race. We'd turn up to flat-viewings to be told
they were already taken, in fact many a time we'd get a call en-route to
the viewing to be told not to bother coming, it had gone. And if the
room is actually still available when one does turn up, you turn into
some kind of puppet, desperately trying to interview successfully against your fifteen other competitors who are viewing that night : "No we don't smoke, drink, tidy is my middle name, and whats that you LOVE birdwatching....oh what a coincidence, me too!!" </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After
a month of viewings each evening (I joke not) we had no social life, a
huge bill on the oyster travel cards, and a pretty good knack for
grabbing reduced sandwiches en-route to each house. Our outlooks were
bleak, our mealtimes were bleaker. And then out of nowhere, through
sheer luck and persistence we found ourselves the perfect place. Our own
flat in a Victorian house, split over two floors with our own garden, a
smeg fridge and a temporary cat. Located in Dalston, with ten minutes
walk to Broadway Market we could not be more happy. The cat, however,
could be. Terribly grumpy, and awfully fat, Charlie only shows
love when he wants food. And since his owner emailed concerned he might
not be able to fit through the flap soon, limiting his food means he
loves me even less now. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I
love having my own place, my own space, and even my own garden. I feel
awfully grown up. The only downside is when the chocolate digestives
have gone in two days straight, and your partner says he hasn't touched
one you have to own up the the fact that your 'flatmates' arent robbing
them, and face the harsh reality it was all just you. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And
even more perfect about the new flat - we have it up till the 10th
January. And seen as I'm off to Los Angeles to live and work from the
6th January for three months - well it could not be more ideal. Yes, I
booked my flights, and now my daydreams are full of sunshine, super-size
diet sodas (yes I said soda - getting down with the lingo already),
rollerblading in bikinis, and The Ellen Show. And of course, a bit of
work in Hollywood thrown in here and there. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Work
has been good to me in the last few months, and I've started working
respected roles on commercials. And recently two Christmas Food
Commercials, which can't help but put one (however early) in the mood
for Christmas. The most harrowing part of the whole experience was when I
tucked into a sample Four Bird Roast mid-pre production meeting and realized I had taken on half a toothpick. Or better put, it had taken me on. I saw my professional demeanor going down the drain before my eyes, not to mention my own life. Gluttony was never a good look.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Last week I got new ink at Frith Street Tattoo parlour. Words designed by my talented friend Cressida on my arm, LIVE/LOVE (www.cressidaomahony.com) and the Cross of Lorraine on my finger in respect of my much loved french grandmother. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've
become obsessed with a fedora hat, as it hides a multitude of sins,
whilst making one feel like their channeling a 2nd rate version of Kate Moss at Glastonbury. It has, however, become a challenge as of late
with this windy weather, and I'm either debating sellotape, or just
leaving at home. Probably just leave at home - I don't have time for eyeliner in the mornings, let alone sticking my hat to my hair.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Apart from those main points, I've floated around happily for the last months in haunts of London with friends and wine, seen my first Opera, found a love of olives, lost my third phone this year and fourth bankcard, and been to a premier of a film I worked on. It's been a while since the last blog post, but once L.A. rolls around in
January I'm determined to be much more blog savvy and wow you all with
epic tales of super-size portions and Brad Pitt sightings. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That's enough from me now, as I have a Halloween rave this weekend and have grand ideas of dressing as a giant Moth (think Silence of the Lambs). However, since last years Bat Outfit
with an umbrella strapped to myself was a fiasco in the wind of
Wellington, I've got to be more practical with this one. After all, dancing for hours with some giant wings spells disaster, not to mention the need for a lot of deodorant. I'll figure it out (...end up being a vampire). </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Happy Halloween! </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.511213899999987 -0.1198243999999704151.195100899999986 -0.7652713999999704 51.827326899999989 0.52562260000002958tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-27486398233100980372013-07-20T01:33:00.001+10:002013-07-20T01:42:09.619+10:00Graduating, tanning and dreaming...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So here I
am, 26 years old and finally a graduate. Never one to win a race,
predictably I did it 5 years later then my parents wanted. And
predictably the weather was a heatwave, the Graduation Hall had no
air-con, and I was sliding around inside my gown. Which was about 3
sizes too long and permanently falling off my shoulders. Cue me asking
any random I could to "pin me in". But the sun was shining, the parents
were happy(ish), and I even got my own shout-out due to my course no
longer even being a degree (yes Leeds realised it was a hopeless course
mmm about mid-way through me being on it). Nothing like good money
wasted! I also got asked by several students 'what the job market
looked like'. Whilst it made me feel rather self-important, I also felt I
was looking the closer age of 30 and settled this unease with a few
Peach Bellini's in the Union afterwards. De-light-ful #newfavouritedrink
(yes i hash-tagged!). And whilst my mum got drunk and threw scathing
remarks at my divorced father over the Union table I still couldn't help
but think all in all it had been rather a successful day.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Back
to London and a few days later I went for a highly anticipated high-tea
at The Savoy with my godmother. And I have two words for you. STALE
SANDWICHES. I may be from the North, but a high-class hotel can't fool
me, I know if my breads been out in the sun a bit too long. And my
finely cut sarnies were slightly tough around the edges. But the cakes
were tasty, and no eyebrows were raised when I substituted my choice of
tea for a coca-cola. But still, should have gone The Ritz...</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The
weather in London is currently amazing, and this long long heatwave makes me feel
great about the fact that I can't afford to go on holiday this year.
Being a freelancer I'm working on a rewarding project at the moment
called tanning. Its currently looking good.</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Apart from
graduating, eating
stale-ish sandwiches at The Savoy and re-hydrating this heatwave with
Pimm's, I've been having some wholly sunny thoughts about the future.
Sunny
thoughts which involve moving to LA in January and working there for a
few months. Just to ward off the cold winter blues in London, and to
split up Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes (joke!) (well...kinda). I've always
wanted to be one of these people who work in LA for a few months of the
year, and then London the rest so I've decided I'm just going to do it!
Flight is getting booked the minute my bank account starts to resemble
the plus side. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Hope everyone in the UK is enjoying this glorious weather!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com1London, UK51.511213899999987 -0.1198243999999704151.195100899999986 -0.7652713999999704 51.827326899999989 0.52562260000002958tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-37253402498788194492013-06-18T01:45:00.001+10:002013-06-18T01:45:11.777+10:00Accountants, business cards and turning 26. The start of grown up me?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Time
has flown all too fast since my last post. Apologies but any spare time
I've had recently has been stolen by whiskey drinking, perusing Harrods
and listening to the Beatles. <br /><br />I'm
still hopelessly in love with the city. The recent evening sunshine has
made me fall even deeper. Why would you choose to do anything other then
wander by the Thames in the warm evening, drink fizzy wine out of
plastic cups and point out all the landmarks? I've become an angry tuber.
Mainly because I'm always running late and I need the damn tourists to
move out my way. My list of lost
belongings is turning into book, and I've been mugged once again.
I throw myself into things, and have thrown myself into the fast pace
here. Late nights, early mornings, too much art and not enough sleep. <br /><br />I
took the great leap of faith to quit my job and go Freelance about two
months ago. I've been lucky enough through lovely people and
hard work to find enough work to keep me going, and keep me believing that I'm
doing the right thing. And even more amazingly the projects and roles
that I've been taking on are very exciting. Tomorrow I start freelancing
two days each week at a Production Company - earning the exact same
money over those two days which I made in a whole week at my last job.
Financially I can now also justify to myself that I have made the right decision. <br /><br />I
turned 26 last week, got myself some business cards, and got myself an
accountant. It all sounds terribly grown-up. I'm really not. I also
watched a good friend of mine get married last month. Weddings, babies
and buying houses couldn't be further from my grasp right now. I'm still
trying to navigate the tube and sign up to speed-dating. Both of which are
hopelessly lost causes. <br /><br />I'm writing this in a cafe in Central
London whilst waiting for a meeting, to open an email off a friend
stating we have a few weeks to get down to supermodel proportions for an
Arabian themed birthday party. Another lost cause - the cafe I'm in has
the best chocolate tart I've ever eaten. Times two. My dentist is going
to have a holiday on me soon.<br /><br />Life's been crazy good and crazy
bad recently but being in London at the start of summer is the most
exciting feeling in the world. There is a festival every weekend, an
exhibition everyday, and a rooftop bar on every corner. And the promise
of future tattoos...<br /><br />Emily x</span></span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.511213899999987 -0.1198243999999704151.195100899999986 -0.7652713999999704 51.827326899999989 0.52562260000002958tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-24496743134783718302013-05-23T04:33:00.000+10:002013-05-23T04:33:36.807+10:00Made in Shoreditch 2013 Fashion Show, London. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Deep down in the midst of East London, an unused
warehouse was turned for one night only into a creative mesh for art
music and fashion. <br /><br />
Bringing together the best new emerging talent from London’s
fashion, music and art scenes, Made in Shoreditch’s 2013 Fashion Show went off
spectacularly two Saturday's ago.<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Ten
of East London's hottest independent designers showcased their winning designs.
The look was modern, space age and ethereal. <br />
<br />
London’s emerging talent on the art scene showcased pieces around the
warehouse. My favorite was the Cara Delevingne inspired Graffiti canvas by
up-and-coming London artist Danny Mendoza. <br />
<br />
Big thanks to Off Beat, Vivid Fashion Group, and One Piece who put together a
fantastic night. Bring on 2014’s!<br />
<br />
Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-59737181702404267122013-04-14T05:26:00.001+10:002013-04-14T05:31:25.442+10:00Made in Shoreditch : 2013 Fashion Show <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-37mkC51hHFI/UWmoJWlsbwI/AAAAAAAAAyc/vZgXZUg6290/s1600/Screen-Shot-2013-04-05-at-15.39.42.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-37mkC51hHFI/UWmoJWlsbwI/AAAAAAAAAyc/vZgXZUg6290/s640/Screen-Shot-2013-04-05-at-15.39.42.png" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Uber
uber excited for this one. This time in two weeks I will be at The 2013
Shoreditch Fashion Show. Showcasing ten independent designers, this
talented bunch was selected from a judging panel headed up by Mischa
Barton, Eliza Doolittle and Oliver Proudlock.</span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fWZKRxMfe8Y/UWmmr3-XjFI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/Eq-9mIGvuQ8/s1600/Screen-shot-2013-03-07-at-13.35.54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fWZKRxMfe8Y/UWmmr3-XjFI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/Eq-9mIGvuQ8/s640/Screen-shot-2013-03-07-at-13.35.54.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Produced by Vivid Fashion Group and supported by Made in Shoreditch Magazine, <br />the event takes place at
the Hoxton Docks. Along with the catwalk, the event
will also feature fashion illustrations, projections, photography,
installations, designs accompanied by live bands and DJ's. </span></span>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A limited number of tickets are on sale for the general public. For more information about the event check out: http://madeinshoreditch.co.uk<br /><br />Emily x</span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.511213899999987 -0.1198243999999704151.195090399999984 -0.7652713999999704 51.82733739999999 0.52562260000002958tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-34013681068561699462013-04-05T10:32:00.001+11:002013-04-05T10:32:22.769+11:00Ye of little faith...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So the last month has found my heart racing, my nights sleepless,
all over relentless thoughts about a very large package. But not <i>that</i>
kind of package. A package that involves excitement, enjoyment, and
hours of undressing. Once again, not <i>that</i> kind of package. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">15kg
of clothes, shoes, hats, headbands, scarves, and even the obligatory Polaroid camera has for the last three months been floating somewhere
around the Atlantic since it's departure in a sellotaped laundry bag from
Melbourne in January. And since I accidentally lost (threw out) it's
tracking receipt I have been haunted by images of extremely well-
dressed Pirates in hand-made floral headbands and sparkly hot-pants. If
they resemble Jack Sparrow I could have maybe forgiven them for their
assumed thievery, but unfortunately I think Johnny Depp is rather an unfair benchmark
for the modern day sea-men (jeez the innuendos are just coming in this
post...) (Oh<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span dir="auto"> touché</span></span>. </span>Again!) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I need to apologize to Australian Post
who I wake up most mornings cursing, and the lady on the phone at the
Liverpool Post Office who I relentlessly wailed too. I have not been so
happy since I found out I didn't fail my degree, and that Wispa bars
were being remade. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After all - 'one thing lost, another found' - Maybe this is karma's way of totaling out the entire make-up
bag I drunkenly lost on the tube last week. (To wake up and discover
this catastrophe when I had to go in for the first time to a production
company I desperately wanted to impress. Ladies a tip : buying whatever
products your local Sainsbury's stocks at 7.30am in the morning before
running onto the tube does not impress). Some might say that was just me
being hopelessly (and drunkenly) idiotic, but I'd like to think it was meant to happen in order for
me to get my clothes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As after all how could I get by without these :</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GUkv6q87u5k/UV4LOHuMi0I/AAAAAAAAAw4/nDsV14SJAW0/s640/575868_10152721759210051_1519405357_n.jpg" width="640" /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">oh
and these:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">oh and let's not forget this sparkly dress and bag that were oh so nearly goners...</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Obviously
the weather will have to perk up before these little numbers can get
cracked out. I would like to say we can expect that soon, but seen as
we're into April and we've been battling snowstorms today I'm just going
to hold back on any predictions on that front.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Wardrobe, come to mama. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Emily x</span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com2London, UK51.511213899999987 -0.1198243999999704151.195090399999984 -0.7652713999999704 51.82733739999999 0.52562260000002958tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-8295663921526537612013-03-29T02:30:00.000+11:002013-03-30T01:42:35.899+11:00'BITCH IM FROM THE SW12' : A load of air from the Big Smoke<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So
as per life has taken over, and my blog has suffered terribly as a
result. Sorry blog. But it's the Easter weekend, I have a few days to
myself (albeit to nurse hangovers) so what better way to make myself
feel better then to write about my life?</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So
I moved down to London mid-January amidst the snow. And here I am end
of March still amidst the snow. As yes, England has not warmed up, and this
elusive spring is still looking very elusive. I don't need to hear about
how <i>"it was 25 degrees this time last year",</i>
all I am very aware of (whilst I place layer over layer to leave the
house) is how it most certainly is not right now. The only part of my
body which is cheering this freezing weather is my lungs. I have cut back
ridiculous amounts on cigarettes as when weighing up whether to turn
into a block of ice for a hit of smoke, I choose not. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Since
moving to London I've moved house, moved jobs, and lost numerous
valuable items. I've fallen asleep on tubes, fallen down tube stairs,
made some amazing new friends and caught up with amazing old friends.
I've learnt to never trust my navigation skills (ending up in Guildford instead of Picadilly Circus can do that to you), but to always walk with
purpose: even if your getting on the tube going north when you
should be going south. (It just makes you feel more clued up). (Even
though your obviously not). I've had a huge shock at the price of things
here in regards to my meager wage, and whilst trying to live the
high-life have been surviving off free Nutella
sandwiches at work. Everyday. For about 6 weeks. I've been drunk in more
bars then I can remember names, yet still haven't scratched the surface
of London's nightlife. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">All
in all I LOVE IT. I love it! I can't express the natural high I still
get when I get out at Piccadilly station each morning to be surrounded
by grand buildings, theaters, statue's and London's iconic red buses.
Maybe its because I was away for so long, but I cant help but feel
proudly British for our wonderful, vibrant, buzzing capital. I love the
accents, the cheek, the banter and I have wholeheartedly fallen for this
city and been swallowed up by it. My itchy feet are itching a lot less
now I'm living in the Big Smoke.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm
living South of the river in the most beautiful house in Balham.
Resigning myself to the fact that I would probably be searching for a
place to live for weeks, view numerous pokey rat infested flats, and end
up living with a strange old Latvian man in a damp room, luckily my experience could not have been more different. I put up an ad, had a
response, went to view the house and BANG love at first sight. With the
house and housemate. Trying not to be too rash (I'm
always far too rash) I thought I can't get the first house I viewed,
but left the property with myself and Lisa (my housemate) gushing <i>"I shouldn't say this but I really want to live with you"</i>. So after working out ze old finances I did. No rats or strange old foreign
men in sight, my new house comprises of myself and three other lovely
creatives. Working in PR, Fashion and Film we all just clicked. We also
all like dancing. A lot.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Job-wise
I moved from my original role at SpliceTV to Rushes Post-Production
house. Whilst getting on thoroughly well with everyone at both Splice and Rushes, I have
had to come to the conclusion that Post just isn't for me. I much
prefer being part of the initial creation and organization of a project,
rather then the tweaking of the end result. Being a hater of someone
that sits and moans about a situation rather then changing it, I have
decided to shortly leave the world of Post and go freelance.
I've met some lovely people in Production down here so it should all
work out. Hell I've been living off Nutella sandwiches for the last month, so living like this for a bit longer can't hurt too much.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And
that's that. The shortest summary I could make of my last two months
down here. I don't intend to leave it two months till the next post, and
I don't intend to write quite so much in the next post. More pictures,
less writing. On some frivolous fanciable subject hopefully. (Or as my
mother would describe : <i>"the internet thing you do with bad grammar
where you post pictures like no-body ever had the idea to turn a pair of
jeans into shorts before?"</i>). </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Happy Easter everyone! </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Emily x</span></span></span></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0London, UK51.511213899999987 -0.1198243999999704151.195090399999984 -0.7652713999999704 51.82733739999999 0.52562260000002958tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-30614498134365568792013-01-23T20:46:00.000+11:002013-01-23T20:46:12.214+11:00Unpacking and packing : the big smoke<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">So I'm home. On English ground. Or snow to be precise.</span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br />
Not quite have I managed to get over my jet-lag nor sort out niggly bank
stuff then I'm off. Not that I'm complaining of course...I'm absolutely
over the moon to have a job in this current climate - let alone in
London, and let alone in the area which I want to work in. I was getting
ready to settle into months of sending cv's, signing onto the dole and
re-runs of Coronation Street...yet a week on and no sooner then my
suitcase has touched the cupboard then it's out again.</span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br />
The Big Smoke calls and a job at Splice TV in Shoreditch. A great
company, and one that I'm very excited to be a part of! (And no friends I
can't introduce you to Jamie Oliver sorry!)</span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /><br />
I'm staying with my '2nd parents' (my lovely godmother and husband)
until I find myself a place. It's like the childhood I never had- home
baked bread every morning, home made jam, home-made cakes for my lunch
(which they insist on making)...and a cat. Lucky me!</span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /><br />
It was always going to be tough to acclimatise, lets face it; basking in
30 degree heat for months to come home to minus temperatures would prove
shocking to anyone. But I've been dealing with it the best I can - hot-boxing myself in my room with two fan heaters diagonally pointing.
It's quite ingenious and if I close my eyes I can almost pretend I'm
back on St Kilda beach. Although there is the constant threat of my
mother coming in, walking into a wall of heat and screaming about the
electricity bill. (Which has happened several times).</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;">I'm so excited about the upcoming times in London Town, and being reunited with friends whom I have dearly missed down there.</span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br />
London is calling... And I can't wait!</span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br />
Emily x</span></span><br />
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0Southport, Merseyside, UK53.645708 -3.010113000000046753.4950685 -3.3328365000000466 53.796347499999996 -2.6873895000000467tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-48420090757744520802013-01-10T21:34:00.000+11:002013-01-10T21:34:01.219+11:00Goodbye...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So once more I've packed my bags and am headed off. But this time back
home! To carpeted floors, proper towels, central heating and good
mayonnaise. I've sun baked my arse off for the last few weeks so my
fellow Brits can gaze in envy at the errrm few tanned body parts that may
be on show in the current freezing weather back home. And that would be
hands and face. But wait, hands will be covered with gloves. So
basically just my face. May as well have just bought a good bronzer then
and saved myself hours of sweating it out. Hmmm bollocks didn't really
think this 'tan in January' plan through. And now I have I'm on the bus
to the airport and its a little too late!</span><br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" />
<br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
My plan was to be home for a few months, then head off to Canada to work
for the year. But alas when I tried to apply for the visa a few days
ago I realized that I have been out the country for more than 18months
in the last three years - something which is not kosher with Canadian
visa requirements. In fact I've been out the country for just over 21
months without returning so that's now put a halt in future work abroad
plans. Basically England I'm yours (for two years at least...or until
the lure if sunnier climates kick back in). But I wouldn't have changed
this length of time out of the UK for the world...</span><br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" />
<br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Dear Australia. I will miss your "how's it gairns" your dodgy tattoos,
hot water coming out the cold tap, French onion dip, boardies being a
staple clothes item, the never ending goon sacks, and road signs
featuring kangaroos.</span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> I will proudly use the word maccas, wear 'thongs' all through summer,
BBQ any future meat and use sea salt instead of a hair brush.</span><br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" />
<br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
This little list can only touch on the love I have for Australia, it's
people and the hope, dreams, and fun I've had here. If it wasn't so far
away I wouldn't be choking up right now, and if it wasn't so far away I
would make plans to return. Australians are fiercely proud of their
country and their culture, and oh boy do they have something to be proud
of.</span><br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" />
<br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
I'm now going to chase the dream in the big smoke (London), and I'm uber
excited to relocate down there with all my friends!! As a young person
London has to be one of the most exciting cities in the world to live
and work in, and I can't wait to see what it has in store for me.</span><br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" />
<br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
So for the final time on this side of the world I write this blog post.
And I can only apologize for my hastily written ramblings...struggling
with a large suitcase, 2 SLR's and a laptop whilst writing on my phone
has never been a strong point.</span><br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" />
<br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Australia, g'night!</span><br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" />
<br style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Emily x</span><br />
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-80213001038571030292012-12-26T09:01:00.001+11:002012-12-26T09:01:40.376+11:00 I can't quite make my mind up, am I free or am I tied up?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This year has been a roller coaster of a ride. I've had some of the
best days of my life and I've also had some of the worst. 2012 came
and left quicker than I would have wanted it too, but things only drag
when your not enjoying it. So that sums up the year adequately; a
lightning bolt of fun running straight through to December.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
The world and it's possibilities excite me so much, and even more
exciting is pushing those boundaries and finding out what you can do. To break from the mold of familiarity and to go out on your own and try
and make some form if life for yourself is daunting, exhilarating,
terrifying and exciting all in one. It can be extremely fulfilling at
time to push the boundaries of your own possibilities and learn more
about yourself each step of the way, and at times it can be extremely
lonely, even when surrounded by people.</span></div>
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I've had moments of wanting to run home, and I've had moments of never
wanting to return. The fantastic thing about the world now is how it is
so accessible and it really is not hard to get places. People who use
money and jobs as an excuse in my eyes are just scared, or don't really
want to do it in the first place. Getting to the most remote corner of the world is no longer impossible. The only thing that blocks it is our own mind. You have to run jump and dive out
there into the world and explore its possibilities and people, and
through that you can get to know yourself. I'm slowly starting to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I spend another Christmas and New Year away from home, and the people
I love back there. I am however fortunate enough to be on the other side of
the world with people who I love dearly here! My Christmas has been spent in Melbourne with my sister and friends roasting some prawns on the barbie. New Year will be brought in on the coast at Falls Festival
in Lorne where I will be working for a week. I will raise a glass (or several)
to all of you back home and hope you have a fantastic Christmas period!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After a year and 6 months away from England Australia and New Zealand have treated me better than I could have ever wanted, and Australia in particular is very close to my heart. However I feel the time is right for this adventure to take me back home for a while before heading off to work in another corner of the world. So I plan to book my flight back for January.<br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To everyone I have met this last year thank you for enriching my life
that little bit more, and I dearly hope I managed to do the same for you. And to everyone back in Blighty, SEE YOU IN THE NEW YEAR!!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!<br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Emily x</span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0Melbourne VIC, Australia-37.814107 144.96327999999994-38.6164545 143.67238649999993 -37.0117595 146.25417349999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-84112923661637077942012-12-07T14:41:00.000+11:002012-12-07T14:41:26.857+11:00A crafty morning...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Inspired by Lana Del Rays flower crowns of the moment, and further urged on by my lack of pennies I decided to forgo the $70 shop price tags and make my own. Thanks to a $2 shop flowers, some wire and a glue gun I spent a just over an hour making my own much cheaper version. I am actually uber impressed with how good it looks and urge everyone to make their own personalized version! Here is how I did it...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1) Cut off some wire and make it fit the shape of your head</span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3) Cut the flowers off the stems and slot through the wire - fix in place with hot glue.</span><br /><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And voila! A crown of flowers!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Emily x<br /></span></div>
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0Melbourne VIC 3000, Australia-37.8113667 144.9718286-50.7327507 124.75698460000001 -24.8899827 165.1866726tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3083471728557685390.post-37213877751757759392012-12-02T18:31:00.000+11:002012-12-02T18:33:17.723+11:00And I'm not saying that I have demands, just elaborate plans in far-off lands...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">So
a life update for y'all. This luggage situation is a joke. If I could
count the amount of airports I have struggled by myself with 2 suitcases
through over the past 6months, well it would at least be 5. Right now
the only thing tying me down is my hair bobble.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">But
what I mean to say with that is that I have moved once
more. And I am currently writing this basking in Melbourne 35 degree
heat. I know I wished for summer whilst I was in New Zealand but this is dare I say
it, a bit too hot! Fried egg on pavement kind of weather. My rash
decision to move to Melbourne was urged by some bad news that left me
wanting to be around good friends and the calling of two short film
projects. And the life I have at the moment means I can make the
decision and be on the plane two days later. A freedom like this is
something I treasure, and certainly something I will miss in future
years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">But
I'm back in Oz, and I never have felt so happy to be somewhere - Melbourne in
the summer has to be one of the best place<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">s in the world. If you have never been to Melbourne before, well your missing out. I'm currently </span></span></b></span><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">debating a shotgun Aussie wedding, so much is my love for the city! (I'm not really...don't panic mum!) </span></span><br />
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will be in Melbourne for Christmas, and will be here until at least the
end of January. And then February...who knows? I certainly don't. And
right now I don't care. I'm enjoying life, and I will figure that one
out in due course. Maybe in a blindfolded pin the tail on a map of the
world kinda way. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Attached are pictures of some of the last few days Melbourne shenanigans. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Emily x</span></span><br />
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Emily Duffieldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07035089550918872383noreply@blogger.com0 Melbourne VIC 3000, Australia-37.8113667 144.9718286-50.3588312 124.75698460000001 -25.2639022 165.1866726