Thursday, 24 April 2014

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

tartan plaid winter fashion 2014tartan plaid winter fashion 2014
 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.
mesh crop winter 2014 fashionmesh crop winter 2014 fashion
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.
black fashion 2014 winter autumn
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.
eyebrow game hella strong
box braids 2014
box braids knee socks
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.
kate cooking pap
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.
bokeh lights
gourmet pap and vleis
gourmet pap and vleis

Khenzo xx

Monday, 21 April 2014

Ooh, Girl, You Can Do Whatever You Want

the maboneng precinct 420
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).
mr price crop top and mr price white mesh pencil skirt pull and bear sneakers
mr price crop top and mr price white mesh pencil skirt pull and bear sneakers
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.
south african girls killing it
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.
eat your heart out maboneng
the maboneng precinct
the maboneng precinct
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.
prego roll pata pata maboneng precinct
chicken burger pata pata maboneng precinct
pata pata maboneng precinct
pata pata burger pata pata maboneng precinct
pata pata the maboneng precinct
pata pata the maboneng precinct
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.
arts on main market on main
arts on main box braids south africa street style
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.
joburg street style
joburg street style
Khenzo xx

Wednesday, 16 April 2014


I wrote a post last night where I got kind of moody about today. It started like this:
Today is my birthday. Today is my birthday. It's a bit weird to type/say/think out without singing the rest of that one Lorde song from Pure Heroine. But today is my birthday and I'm sixteen. 

Except I don't feel sixteen. And I don't know if it's because I haven't fully recovered from last year's turning-the-only-difference-between-fourteen-and-fifteen-is-twelve-months disease (I sort of blogged about it here). Or maybe it's because all of my friends have always been a year older than me and hearing about driving permits, job applications and the stress of university applications has me wishing. Or maybe it's because this is the first time my birthday's in the holidays.
Whatever it is, I don't feel sixteen. I've taken to telling everyone I'm seventeen going on sixty-three. It's not that I'm not ashamed of sixteen or just actively lying to people but in my mind I am not sixteen. I guess this is reverse mid-life crisis or something. Except it's not a bad thing.

I'm probably just this confused because I haven't enjoyed a birthday since Grade Seven. This time last year, most of my friends had disappointed/upset me, my mom forgot, I took the bus late, fell asleep and ended up at the wrong stop. I walked home, with a heavy heart and heavy school bag, wearing a bra (red flag number eighty-three), in tears because everything was so miserable. And then no one wanted to go out for my birthday (I quasi-blogged through my feelings and soon last the nicest blazer I've ever owned).

But while most of those feelings are still in my soul, I am so happy. It's been such a great day already and I haven't felt this glad about my birthday since I was twelve. So I wanna do something, like, big to commerate this. Well, bigger than my thighs will be after the truckloads of carbs and fizzy drinks I'm about to dive into today. I'm thinking a giveaway or making a care package(s) (with, like, a journal, sparkly pens, sweets that can survive long distance of any sort, a flower tiara/something cutesy and craftsy and so on) so I just wanna know who would be interested.

And here's some stuff from the past six days of holiday!

Forever and ever and ever (16 has been amazing)
Khenzo xx
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