Style notes: Martha Costello.

Martha Costello is the lead character played by Maxine Peake in BBC law drama 'Silk'. She's the first character/person to come into the spotlight on my 'Style notes' series because right now I'm currently working my way in a obsessive manner through series 2. Oh, the joy of Netflix.

It's hard to find a lot of images to showcase her style but I managed to find some around Tumblr and Pinterest. She's got one of the images I love so much with a snappy kickass personality to match. There is just something about slightly disheveled blonde hair paired with Red lips that I will forever use as a style reference. Then a classic white shirt and black sunglasses. The whole thing just makes me really wish I'd have done better at A Level law.

Of course the personality of the character adds to that desire too, she's northern, fiery and always adds an unusual twist on cases. In one episode of the first series she mentions her first trial was the 15th May 1995, obviously a date you can assume was plucked out of thin air by writers but I kinda love it the characters first case was on the day I was born. Maybe I can be a Martha Costello?

Food Fridays: All Bar One - Euston station

Despite the fact 'All Bar One' is a chain of bars up and down the country I'd never actually been before my trip to London this week. It's somewhat ironic that I've walked past both the Liverpool and Manchester venues countless time but it took me a trip to the capital filled with buzzing independent eateries and drinking establishments to select a chain I could while away a hour in. Though kudos to me for not heading to my old faithful chains of Pizza Express/Nando's\Wagamama.

Hannah just went for a cappuccino which came along side a cute little shot glass of smarties and a bowl of all the sugar she could ever possibly desire. I got a 'Peach Melba' which to me, ended up sounding a lot better then it tasted. It looked super yummy though, I just personally wasn't keen on the flavour.

Being the type of girl that reads the dessert menu before she's selected her main (anyone else?!) I thought it would be rude to resist one for lunch, particularly considering they were sharing platters and I could get Hannah on board! We ordered churros which were super delicious, though a little naughty considering the amount of awful food we'd ate in 24 hours, the Waitrose pasta at 3AM being my ultimate downfall (though why I was eating at that time in the morning is another story entirely)

The main menu sounded lovely and I'm a sucker for presentation so I can assure you ill be heading to the Liverpool one as soon as I get a chance and reporting back!

Friday night.

Mine was full of unexpected loveliness; A gorgeous dinner with family and lots of photographic fun.

It is actually the first Friday night in forever where I've not ate instant noodles with my best friend Gossip Girl and I totally loved it! This is actually the first weekend since October I've not been working so I'm super loving the fact I've a lie in waiting for me in the morning if I want it. I mean, who knew the smell of coffee beans could be absent from Friday evenings?!

 I've always been a lover of Friday nights but I think recently I've forgotten it. Previously they've always seemed to sparkle with possibilities but three months of University that went oh so horribly wrong left my weekends lacking in anything but netflix. Friday and Saturday evenings just felt like painful people absences so I think I forgot how good weekend evenings can be.

Friday nights have always been a release for me. A total, throw caution to the wind type of affair. They may never have been wild, but they've always helped to sooth the stresses of a long hard week or ignite my need for something to do. For as long as I can remember the Friday night of my diary has been otherwise engaged. As a child Friday nights were spent helping my Nan with her weekly shop in Sainsbury's. I have vivid memories of this and my favourite part was the beans on toast in the cafe afterwards, with rainbow Jelly too if I was lucky! Some bonus occasions even offered a magazine and I'd have endless decisions to be made about my choice of child literature...many a moment was spent virtually battling 'Girl Talk's' kitten and silver ballerinas with 'Rugrats's Passport around the world' filled with cool facts and fun jokes. In the years that followed activities came in the form of Cheerleading (Just don't ask) and youth groups. Regardless of whether it appears it you my Friday night was actually once upon a time the highlight of my social calendar but I think this evening reminded me of the importance in hurrying up and reinstating its position.

 My dream evening scenario seems like it would fit into the box of a meal out and cocktails with friends but I had such a fun filled evening tonight that I think my stereotype idea of how I'd love a Friday night should be thrown right out of the ring. Instead, please enter all the unexpected, impromptu lovely evenings I could have if only I'd let myself.

Tonight I ate the worlds nicest home cooked meal and the best shop bought dessert I've ever had with my Auntie and Cousin and it was just wonderful. We sang along to Dido and Shania Twain, took endless photos and shared a lot of laughs. It was just what I needed to shake me out of the Friday Night blues and inspire me to not waste my time.

 So if you've an invitation to go out somewhere - take it. Don't waste your precious free hours, the ones you count down to, slumped in front of a boring TV programme your only watching cause there is nothing else on. Go out, have your type of fun. If your dream Friday night is at the chess society then just go do it! Don't let life hold you back from living. Grab your spare time, your Friday nights and run with them before you look back and realise you've no vivid memories of the times that are supposed to be the best of your life. If you too have the friday night blues - plan yourself something for this time next week and report back, I'd love to hear what you get up to.

The day I met Anna.

I met Anna on the 11:45 from Nottingham to Liverpool. I was running exceptionally late due to the fact I'd basically gotten lost on the way to the station, and had ended up heading through the wrong shopping centre. If it wasn't for the elderly couple I'd asked for directions and the frequent desperate prayers I'd made to God, I'm sure I'd never have made it, and then, I'd have never met Anna.

I arrived at the station at 11:43, slightly out of breath, with my cheeks extra rosy then normal due to the speed I'd just travelled at. I boarded the train in coach A and headed down through, knocking everyone and his wife with my stupidly heavily bag until I reached B, where my seat was reserved. I felt a slight niggle at the fact I arrived to find a woman sitting in my reserved seat, but only because it had happened on the way down to Nottingham two evenings previously.

I let her know it was my seat just in case the ticket inspectors came round, but sat next to her regardless. And from there, the conversation started. Initially I was hesitant; I'm not the type to frequent public transport and chat. I'm more of the reserved type, particular English when it comes to train rides, only saying “Sorry” and “Thank you” when there is the awkward clashing of feet underneath the table, or if a ticket or pen has been dropped on the floor.

She first asked if I was okay due to my redness and if I was hot, then she enquired if I'd been shopping due to the small Primark bag I had in my hand. At this point I was still half attempting to keep conversation to a minimum – I'd an essay to finish and was reluctant to leave the train without it complete. However, the more we talked, the more I let my guard down.

Curiosity caught the better of me after about 10 minutes of casual conversation an since I'd spied her Louis Vuitton handbag, I asked what she worked as. I found it she was originally from Thailand, but lived in Suffolk as a House keeper in a international boarding school. It was her week off, and she was coming to visit her friend. I later discovered she'd had a reserved seat too, but the guard that had carried her large red case on board had told her not to worry, which is why she ended up in my seat. I love this fact now, as I'd have never have met her for various different reasons; her case could have been smaller so she'd have been able to manage to carry her case to her allocated seat, or I could have noted she was in my seat and proceeded to try find myself a empty seat in another carriage. See, millions of seemingly insignificant details could have prevent the occurrence of Anna and I meeting on seats 04 and 05 of coach B of that train that day -but they didn't.

As we kept on talking she let me in on the fact she was actually on her way to meet a man she'd met online. The statement triggered alarm bells in my head – we all know of the horror stories now don't we. All the possibilities ran through my head, but as we kept talking my excitement for her grew and all these faded. I was witness to her progress through all the feelings of meeting someone for the first time; the crippling nerves, coupled with the overwhelming excitement and the 'I think I'm gonna be sick'. The whole “Jess, am I doing the right thing?!” Was added to the mix a few dozen times due the fact she'd never met him before in person. However the more we talked, the more I discovered.

She was 40 something, but I swear she didn't look a day over 30. She had short black hair and was wearing a fedora style hat that suited her so well. Her face was bare apart from the smallest coating of mascara on her lids, and bright crimson lips. Clearly we bonded over our mutual love of red lipstick. However she only noticed I wore it due to the picture on my rail card in which I resembled something different to the greasy haired, practically bare face she'd been greeted with that day. She told me I had the prettiest eyes she'd ever seen which was difficult to react to. I can't deal with compliments from friends, never mind complete strangers. However I felt as if I'd known Anna forever.

She kept questioning if she was doing the right thing, if she was crazy for going to visiting him? But that they'd both had felt such a connection. They talked on the phone for hours every evening, with all sorts of subject matter. I learnt he was 53, with two teenage sons and that she also had a teenage daughter. He'd been married before, but the most heart warming thing was to learn she'd never actually been on a date. I didn't understand why but I didn't ask...

The clock ticked nearer, and the closer we got to Sheffield the more nervous and excited we both became. We talked at this point about 'Live and let live'. We agreed its far better to regret what you have done then regret what you always wished you had of. She showed me his profile online, so I could spot him as we pulled into the station. I think we both had the same ideas when it comes to love; Follow your instinct, be a little crazy, let your heart be broken – its better then never knowing love at all.

We decided she should keep it cool with the meeting at the plaform but she was getting so nervous in the seat next to me, with so many questions..was her hair okay? Would he find her attractive? Should she hug him or kiss him? Or just shake his hand? I tried to keep her as calm as possible as the minutes ticked by.

At this point I was just so nervous for her, but he sounded like such a gentleman. I was pretty sure this was going to be the start of something for the two of them. It was so excitement being let in on this first meeting because I'm an absolute sucker when it comes to love.

Give me all the cliche's in the world and I'll take all the rom coms you've got. I love love. I swear right now I sound like Carrie Bradshaw's assistant in the first SATC movie but its all true. I cry at weddings, at cheesy romantic songs, old couples in the street. I don't think I can get through an Episode of Don't tell the bride without a few tears, and don't even start me on Pinterest. I just love love and It makes me so happy to see other people happy.

The train was nearly pulling into the station so I helped Anna get her large case to the door. We were so excited. We hugged tightly before she got off the train, Its amazing how close and excited for someone you barely knew existed just a hour before. Anna taught me a lot, and we shared our lives for 60 minutes. Writing can't do my experience justice but it was great to meet Anna.

As we arrived in the station I sat back down and watched hopefully out the window, hoping to spy her meeting her man. It was easy to pick him out, not because I'd seen his photo but because there was a man with the biggest, child on Christmas morning grin I’ve ever seen in my life. In his hand where the biggest bunch of yellow flowers and as Anna approached his face lit up even more. He took her case off her, then they embraced and he kissed her shyly on the cheek. Anna turned round and we waved gleefully to one another. Her man probably thought I was a little strange for looking so excited but I couldn't care less. I squealed with happiness as the train pulled away from the station and in my head I wished her all the best. I knew I'd never see her again but that didn't matter. It was enchanting enough to be a part of her journey, even if only for a hour.

And that was the day I met Anna.

This is not a fashion blog.

As much as I know I love writing now, I had never originally intended to. I didn't even realise I had some form of burning passion about it until about the half way point of my blogging, two years ago. At age 8 I scrawled "Writer" down as one of three things I wanted to be when I grew up however I'm sure that was only because my favourite author at the time, Jacqueline Wilson had said she had always known she wanted to be a writer. (the other two were fashion designer and dancer, FYI)

I never 'got' writing really. Where as Jacqueline, like most writers,  said she could fill school exercise books with stories at a young age I'd never been one to come up pages and pages of fiction. Now of course writing a humble little blog is completely different to being an amazing, published children's author who I will forever adore and admire but it still shares a common love, or at least interest in writing.

At age 14 blogging was a no more then a simple occasional hobby. It filled the yawn of my year ten work experience and back then no one I knew was doing it so I of course, the girl who relishes her outsider status, jumped straight into the fun. Back then on my first blog, I was just commenting about the clothes and accessories I liked and although that's how I found my writing style, it wasn't until I starting expanding on my subject matter I really found my writing love. As previously stated, writing lengths of imaginative prose in childhood seemed a totally alien concept to me but clearly what didn't was writing about life. My first diary entry was at 7 years old, and at aged 10 I created my first magazine. I may not have been the typical fiction fanatic but I definitely had an early love of journalism, although I only discovered this via blogging a good number of years later.

One thing I always wanted for my blog however, was outfit posts. I've always enjoyed sharing my quirky personal style and wanted to do this online.  Things however had previously never really ended up that way. A culmination of a lot of different factors, things like a lack of people to take photographs and no real time for it among GCSE's and A Levels meant over the four years and two blogs I wrote, photos documenting my fashion choices were few and far between.

                                              A rare outfit post from 2011.

The direction I wanted this blog to take had outfit posts at a big part. This time round I've lots of spare time and a person willing and able to take regular photos for me. But after just two 'What I wore' posts, I'm scraping the idea of it all. I always wanted to be a fashion blogger, believe me I really did. Sharing outfits, creating lookbooks and revealing shopping trip purchases where high on the list of things I wanted to blog about, but now I've the chance I'm realized I'm just not cut out for that. I could do it, but I don't want to.

I'm not very good at doing things by halves because I'm a 'all or nothing' passionate person. My best work comes when I'm truly and creatively inspired by something or someone, regardless of the subject matter. I've spent years in education handing in essays and assignments lacking in quality because there has been no drive or desire behind them. There have been average exam results all through life because of a lack of fire in my heart, not a lack of ability. When it comes to this blog, something I want to do for me, as an outlet I want to create and inspire with, I can't help but feel the lack of love for short, quick and simple posts on what chose out of my wardrobe.

If I'm really going to stick out blogging for this year, It needs to go hand and hand with fire, passion and enthusiasm. So although my love of style and fashion may be a part of my online world and something I occasionally will write about it,  my love for life and questioning every aspect of it will be the main focus of this blog. I'm glad to have accidentally found myself as writer, for it helps me to voice my opinions of things I feel matter and it makes me feel I can actually make a difference to things in a small way.  I hope however that this blog somehow intentionally finds you and helps you to find things you never knew you were passionate about - things that make you want to change the world.