Bloody red sun...

"Blood in the streets in the town of New Haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of Venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of Phantastic L.A."

- Jim Morrison

How I love the Doors.

Currently on a reading spree, trying to plough my way through an extensive pile of books that make my shelves groan and grumble. There are certain works that I spend a lot of time dissecting (like 'Nausea', which took me a fortnight to read and study) but generally, I can get through books fast. The problem arises when I find an author that I really enjoy and proceed to order their entire back catalogue from Amazon at about £1 a book, hence creating the extensive pile that rests heavy on my poor bookshelves. I'm currently getting an itch to order more Francoise Sagan books, as I'm enjoying 'Aimez-vous Brahms' at present. A while ago, I wrote down a list of all the books I had yet to read and it was quite daunting. JP Donleavy and William Faulkner are the main culprits. I find certain authors that I adore and that tends to make me want to read their work over and over again (especially F. Scott Fitzgerald and Simone de Beauvoir). This leads to abandonment of the unread pile, which has been growing like a big black cloud. I must tackle it and avoid Amazon at all costs until the last page of the last book has been turned.

I really dislike shopping, unless it's in London. I spent an age browsing through beautiful lingerie in Selfridges on Friday. This is a dangerous occupation. I tend to splurge on skincare and haircare (if you don't have the basics, what's the good of a posh dress?) and spend less on clothes but this doesn't applies to lingerie. Cheap underwear is a sin. I stock up at Brandalley, where you can get wonderful garments at a snip of the original price.