Baby, When You Finally Get to Love Somebody

 Happy 10th Anniversary of Mean Girls! Also IT'S GONNA BE MAY! Also, Kate Moss's collection for Topshop launced today. Also, IT'S GONNA BE MAAAYY.
To celebrate the anniversary of one of my favourite films ever, I wore pink because it also happens to be Wednesday! Why is that significant, you ask? What is Mean Girls anyway, you ask? Why was my Tumblr dashboard filled with it, you keep on? Please pick up your orangatan boobs and army green Crocs and proceed to run over a cliff. Thanks, bye.
Don't even get me started on the NSYNC reference.

It was such a labour of love and sacrifice to basic bitchness to find the only pink top in my wardrobe (which is discombobulating - pink is such a great colour). I found these perfectly oppressive high waist jeans from Mr Price yesterday and they allow me to eat carbs and still be a walking catfish (read: this is real progress, Mark Zuckerberg). My socks and flatforms are from Mr Price as well.

As someone who is from Africa as well (and has actually grown up with Ladysmith Black Mambazo), I can verify that we all speak Swedish and that butter is a carb. This is all science.

 The Topshop South Africa Instagram promised a R2000 voucher for the Kate Moss collection to the first people to show up this morning when the store opened. I missed it by thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much. I was really disappointed with the lack of hype from Topshop, the fact that they didn't turn it into, like, a proper vibe and throw a launch party with fancy juices and sweets like they did somewhere in the world with Jourdan Dunn there (I think). But when I came face to sequins/fringe/leather with the collection, I understood why. I was so whelmed. Which is becoming a recurring theme with my visits to Topshop.

 Josh and I threw a little temper tantrum and then went for a carby lunch (WHERE MY PANTS DID NOT EXPLODE THIS IS SO IMPORTANT YOU GUYS).

I AM A TURD

On Monday, my blogger friend, Foyin (of Dear Solo) and I did a little clickety-click snap-snap thing at her house. She made me waffles and pink tea and bacon and I was just filled with a warmness unmatched by the white hot intesity of a thousand suns because having friends and bacon is so nice. Plus Foyin is such a babe, especially in photographs.

 I probably should have left Foyin to publish these photos herself (there are many more great ones) but I really love them and I'm kind of gushy proud of the way my photo-taking (too hipster to put photography) has improved since, like, this time last year.

 This is what the past two weeks of holidays have looked like for my laptop. I'm finally writing again, probably mediocre but better than nothing. I've also found that taking photos of self-portraits makes them look a lot better. I'm not a very strong or confident painter so I've been trying to teach myself these past weeks and, I know, I know, they're rather whelming but it's improvement. I'm just at a point in my life where growth is better than sitting around not doing anything because I'm scared of failing, you know?

Forever
Khenzo xx

There's a Lot of Metaphors, You Just Lack Vision

 How about a round of chicken wings for me? I've spent the past four days trapped in my room, doing art, writing bad poetry and failing at putting in false eyelashes (how do people do that on a daily basis). So after watching bad TV, I rallied (read: tricked) a friend into going to see a movie with me.
We watched Hercules, starring (beautiful, beautiful) Kellan Lutz. It is a terrible film. Do not see it. Do not let Kellan's sculptured face trick you into believing otherwise.

My crop top is from Mr Price, bag from Zara, skirt from the days of my youth (does that count as vintage?), and my boots and socks from Jet. I'm playing around with the idea of Winter fashion now that it's getting really windy at night and it took a lot of strength to stray away from adding my red trench coat over this.

I've had such envy over the tights, coats and wool pieces Northern Hemisphere bloggers have been sporting up 'til now. I never know how to dress in summer unless it's half-naked in my room, watching Australian soap operas. With winter you can wear boots, leather, things with buttons, things with a lot of zips, no one judges you for mismatched items because you're just trying to keep warm - we feel.

I wanna give photo creds to my brother for these but I don't know if it counts since it's just me forcing him to stand in a certain position, angle the camera like so and leave enough space above my head. And then me still cropping and tinting the photos.

Last week when my friends stayed over for my birthday weekend extravaganza (za) (za) (zaa), we (mostly them and I took photos and drank concentrate juice) cooked dinner for my family. (So as much as I love cooking, I never eat my own food and I wasn't in the mood to go on toast for the night.) We made a night of it; decorating the plates like it was Masterchef, putting on the romance lights (they never have any use here ever) and playing Chance the Rapper's slow jamzzz.

Forever
Khenzo xx

Ooh, Girl, You Can Do Whatever You Want

Yesterday was not only the perfectly, beautifully tragic end to a great birthday weekend, it was also the day I committed myself to learning every dance routine from the BEYONCE music videos (especially Grown Woman which has become my anthem since my birthday) but more on that when I'm famous.

For the past four days my friends and I have been running around the city, shopping, taking shameless selfies and making new friends all by the gracious wheel of my dad's car. Usually I build my birthday celebrations up too much and I end up crying into a chocolate sponge cake from Woolworths but this year it was everything and more.

For the final birffdaayy weekend turn down, we headed to my favourite place in Joburg, the Maboneng Precinct for lunch at Pata Pata and to enjoy the city (and watch hipsters roll joints - of drugs you guys - because it was 4/20).

I wore my tired old crop top from Mr Price Sport, white mesh pencil skirt from Mr Price and the Pull & Bear running shoes I got from Turkey.

Those are my babies, Kelicia and Kate. Hella eyebrowgames/cool-jacket-Kelicia-has-on/Kate's-whole-outfit/Kelicia's-shoes sponsored by me. They're gonna roll their eyes so hard and text me cat emojiis when they read that.

If you're ever in Maboneng, I suggest letting your wallet have a wee cry and visit Pata Pata. It's such a lovely place. When you're on Fox Street, you feel like you're in a different world. Pata Pata has this great artsy, Afrocentric, orange and red lights feel to it. The kind where you sway to Indie jazz and drink Ethiopian coffee. As well as enjoy really good food.

After a really filling lunch, we walked around town to look at clothing (even though almost everything was closed it being Easter Sunday) but serious party vibrations were running about and we couldn't stay because, unfortunately, the party had to end. We did go home to rehearse and film the dance routine in Grown Woman so ha-ha to everyone having a great 4/20.

LOOK! Look at this girl. Her hair, her facial expression, the boy's height, her shirt, her hair, her sunglasses - she's a Nubian goddess. I want to be her.

Forever
Khenzo xx