What I'm Wearing

Friday, 28 November 2014

Dress - Zara // Shoes - Ralph Lauren // Rings - Topshop
[Photographs - Pauline Bossdorf]

Spicy Parsnip Soup & Sweet Potato Salad

Wednesday, 26 November 2014


It's been four days since I last touched a chicken nugget. Four days since I last uttered 'Can we get some more bread please?'. Four days since I shoved on my trainers to do the chocolate run to the corner shop.
I'VE BEEN SOME HEALTHY VEGAN BITCH FOR FOUR DAYS AND I'M EXASPERATINGLY PROUD.

It's actually easier than you think to eat clean. Food that's good for you can taste spectacular if you don't just bite into a raw carrot and expect it to curb your carb cravings. 
This spicy parsnip soup with a sweet potato salad is filled with things that are brilliant for you and it tastes pretty damn good too.
Preheat your oven to 180C and then chop your parsnips and cover them in olive oil and chilli and bake them for around 45 minutes
At the same time on a separate baking tray, place chopped sweet potato and drizzle them with some olive oil and a pinch of sea salt for 45 minutes
Let the parsnips and sweet potato cool and then chuck all of the soup ingredients into a blender and blitz until smooth! 
Whilst you heat up your soup in a pan, throw all of the salad ingredients together and give a big squeeze of lime over the top!
Ta-da!

Let me know if you try it out :-)

Dispelling Racism - The Choice Is Yours

Tuesday, 25 November 2014

    Growing up in Central London up until the age of eleven, I went to a school with children from over 75 different nationalities. 
I was wholly fortunate to be brought up within a family and community where race was introduced to me no differently to being told that some people have blue eyes and others have green, I studied Martin Luther King's speech aged seven and wrote extensive school projects about Mary Seacole, part of my 11+ entrance exam was to plan a campaign to abolish racism within young football clubs.
Nearly 50 years into laws against public racial discrimination within the UK being put into practice, this should be a natural and obvious common place, in the same way I was given extensive knowledge on white political leaders and white iconic figures through history.

Moving out of London in my early teens left me faced with an absurd amount of discovery into how ignorant and futile other people of my age were towards those who differed in colour and heritage to them. 
It seemed as utterly ludicrous to me then as it does now and whilst some might ignorantly claim the innocent naivety of youth upon those I encountered, you most certainly can't do that with what we're facing now.

Earlier today the news in Ferguson broke out that the white police offer that shot a young innocent black male dead was not to be charged.
Whilst I, like everyone else bar the two people involved, have no real understanding of what actually occurred, it's the lack of knowledge surrounding the case that is both insulting to the loss of a life and the misrepresentation of racial violence. 
Michael Brown's death is not a social anomaly and doesn't out lie statistically. 

It's received an incredible call for justice, citizens of war torn countries and international protestors took a moment out of their own issues to send messages of support and solidarity across all forms of press and social media. 
Where as for the most part, white people have been noticeably more reluctant to make a statement. 
This is obviously hugely generalised, I am by no means suggesting that whites have been silent, but it only took me a few moments to scan my Twitter and Facebook feeds to notice that over 85% of the posts put out weren't by my white counterparts. 
I truly believe this is because a large majority are scared.

I tend to write most of my blog posts in twenty minutes and press publish as soon as I've thrown my eyes over it half heartedly for spelling mistakes, but this one has had me push for extreme care and concern over all of my vocabulary and phrasing in fear of saying something remotely offensive even though I know in its genuine core and indeed my own, I'm not capable of doing so because my intentions are by no means to do so nor would I really know how to.
But the thought has still left my fingertips wavering over each key a little terrified.

This is the issue. 
A lot of people are worried they might offend others with their phrasing, they struggle to see the opening for meaningful conversation upon the issue because they themselves have not been directly involved with racial offence. 
Nor do they see an opportunity to speak out and for it to make a positive impact or any impact whatsoever. 
The majority probably also struggle to see their role in the fight of racism because they themselves aren't racist, they worry that addressing race in the first place might even make the situation worse and more uncomfortable. 
These fears are real and I understand them, but by accepting and not pushing through them, essentially results in the justification of white silence and inaction making the oppression and death of black people a serious real world issue. 

We need to start taking an active role as white people to fight and dispel racism as it's something that is destroying our communities and our brothers and sisters. 
Whilst it wasn't you or I who personally created it, we have a huge part in undoing racism because our heritage did and a large portion of our people support and maintain a serially racist system that benefits white people to the extreme detriment of those of colour. 

We should be using words that speak the truth about the disempowerment, oppression, disinvestment and racism that are rampant in our communities. 
Janee Woods recently wrote - 

'Black people are dying and it’s not your personal fault that black people are dying because you’re  white but if you don’t make a purposeful choice to become a white ally and actively work to dismantle the racist system running America for the benefit of white people then it becomes your shame because you are white and black lives matter. And if you live your whole life and then die without making a purposeful choice to become a white ally then American racism becomes your legacy.   
The choice is yours.' 







Lost and Found

Tuesday, 11 November 2014


It's not a new concept that this world is an odd one to find yourself in, I'm well aware.
But for the last few months I've struggled to come to terms with why.
Ever infuriated by what I don't know and don't understand, consumed with a fear of being consumed (?!) I couldn't stand it anymore.
I felt this heavy pelting force in my chest most mornings, missing meetings bleary eyed smelling of immitation smirnoff and regret but with a grin so wide on my face that it was almost hard to believe I was battling a half hearted identity crisis and the mother of all hangovers.
I'd had the best night previous with the most glorious breakfast of Sour Creme and Onion Pringles on the tube home having curled up laughing and content in someones bed who washed me of insecurities.
All fine here, right?

In truth, I was slowly dancing myself into a wrap of creative procrastination, writing heart wrenchingly cringe poems on the back of train tickets and waiters notepads about things I probably only felt devestated by because I was exhausted and a bit confused as to where I should be heading next.
Ignorantly flipping my middle finger like a pubescent teenager at growing up I relished in my new found inner care free.
It just so turned out that care actually was worth a lot more than I was insuring it for.
As well as being a general giant teenage cliche, I was putting all of these strained adult pressures on myself that not even my twenties would be able to battle through and I became temporarily paralysed in a fear of letting myself and people around me down.
It's truly wonderful having successful friends but it's also incredibly terrifying particularly when there are so many of them doing such brilliantly impressive things.
Equally, when their lives look so fantastic you just want to punch anyone that says 'just be happy! just take control!' because 'THAT'S BLOODY EASY FOR YOU TO SAY!!!!!!'
What if I'm not doing enough for the world? What if that dress in Topshop sells out? What if I don't become as successful as everyone else? What if that Snickers bar is the final straw between a size 12 and a size 14?
Relatively, it's all menial and quite laughable when put down on paper. Don't worry, I can see it now.
But for the last two months instead of facing real issues I sort of succumbed to these tiny insignificant intangible ones that I knew I couldn't win or change or answer because bizarrely that's a lot easier.
We're part of a generation where we feel as though we all have to run so hard and fast towards something and a good majority of us have no idea what it is.
We're left hanging from this empty rafter of insecurity and worry that splinters into a horrible dull sensation of being a bit helpless.

Drowning a plate of bacon and pancakes in thick sticky maple syrup over breakfast the other day I caught sight of a real emotion that hadn't been masked and inebriated.
I was lost.
I did this sad god awful little cry that just thinking about makes me want to punch myself for but I genuinely had no idea who I was.
I made a few weepy phone calls, I ate some more overpriced breakfast and I gave myself two weeks to work it out.
Who am I to me and who am I to other people?
What the hell am I doing with my life?
Had I just been listening to too much Taylor Swift?
Gross. Probably.

I agreed to take a step back from some people and a step closer to the ones I'd pushed away, it's incredibly difficult admitting you're wrong or even behaving recklessly but it gave me a strength and a relief that pride was never going to attain.
I've also written myself a managable list of things I want to achieve in the next two weeks and surprisingly I'm already half way through five days in.
Imagine if we did that EVERY fortnight?
Hello, my name's Charly Cox and I've made a lot of mistakes in the last eight weeks.
Hello, my name's Charly Cox and I've also done a lot of really fantastic things that I often let myself forget.

It's okay to be lost and it's okay to flit and wander through paths that sometimes aren't of best fit or of best interest, as long as you know that sooner rather than later you have to allow yourself to find sight of you again.

This Months Cosmetics Picks

Monday, 3 November 2014

 I am all manners of rubbish at looking after myself.
I scrape last nights make up off with cheap wet wipes and throw my poor afro hair under enough heat that chemically straightening it probably sounds as though it would be a kinder treat.
I stepped up my game, threw down my horrible habits and have called to the cosmetic gods to see if they could cuddle my appearance and make me feel and look a little less haggard.
These are the ones that came out on top.
 Origins GinZing Energy Boosting Moisturiser 
It smells like an orgy of oranges having a great time in a pot.
It's surprisingly done absolute wonders for my Rosacea and paints a massive smile over my now smooth face every morning.
Yum.

 Topshop Face Glitter and Glue
You always used to know if I was having a crisis because I'd wear red lipstick to distract myself.
Now, I paint big messy glittery splodges along the sides of my eyes.
Like a Sugar Plum Fairy, but dosed up on Sertraline.

 Oribe god Lust Nourishing Hair Oil
Harry Styles' hair stylist swears by it.
If it's good enough for him, it's sure as hell probably too good for me, but it smells divine and has given a new lease of life to my dyed and unloved hair.
 Mane 'n Tail Shampoo and Conditioner
It was originally developed for Horses.
It's now made for humans.
Thank Jesus Christ and the well groomed Donkey that carried him, they smell a bit like carpet cleaner but get all the gross residue of London out of your hair.
Love.
 L'Oreal Lumi Magique Highlighter in Shade 2
My YSL Touche Eclait brushed its last stroke the other day and I panic bought this.
A really great high street highlighter, does exactly what it says on the tin.
Aesop Parsley Seed Face Mask
Erases all of my make up wipe sins, all of the weird ugly alcohol induced blemishes and wind torn flakey face skin.
I was a bit apprehensive of spending so much money on what looks like such a small tube, but you only need a tiny teeny bit to do a bit of a Beyonce glow.
It smells like a really good salad dressing, don't be tempted.
 

Charly Cox © All rights reserved · Theme by Blog Milk · Blogger