This is Quiff guy. My friends and I were walking around university when the sight of this skunk-striped, quiffed up cool cat walked past us, the most perfect quiff known to man growing out of his stylish skull. A pact was made, "If we ever are lucky enough to lay eyes on Quiff-Guy ever again, we shall enquire as to where he sourced his quiff from." Fast forward a week or two, and Quiff-Guy is once again spotted, in the Arcade, ordering Asian food, his quiff - solitary and dignified. Attempts (about three) were made to approach him, which eventually found me hiding behind a pool table in quivering fear of interacting with the owner of such a quiff. Brendan Byron finally stood up with the courage of men and took Quiff-Guy's photo, accompanied with a "it's for my friend's fashion blog". Quiff guy, I doubt you remembered my URL, but if you are, I want to commend you on the quality of your quiff.
Also, I might start taking street style photos. It's an excuse to approach well-dressed people who would otherwise be too far out of my league to befriend and/or solicit sexual relations with. Joke about the last part. Maybe.
I was waiting at a train station at around midnight the other day for my mother to come and pick me up. The thing with my mum is she chucks a spaz if I take the train home alone, so in an attempt to trick her, I saddled up to a girl that looked vaguely my age and asked, "can you be pretend to be my friend so my mother doesn't spaz at me?" (this is also another method to make friends. Making Friends 101 by Prof. Jess Tran) Turns out she reads my blog, which was pretty awesome. That pretty much made my week. It was all for nought, though, because she was picked up before my mum arrived. My mother chose to arrive JUST AS a seedy inebriated Korean guy decided to approach me and tell me I was the "prettiest woman I have ever seen. I have not seen a woman as pretty as you." Cool timing, drunk Korean man. On any other day, I would appreciate your half slurred compliment.
Outfit post coming soon.