Oz World

Sometimes I find it extremely difficult to understand the basic factor of fashion.  Why do we choose to wear certain things?  Do we choose to wear them or is it what we read in the latest edition of Vogue magazine that pushes us to think that we like the look of a particular product?  When I first saw the knee ripped jeans, I'll be honest, I did think of jumping onto the bandwagon.  After all, I do like to associate myself with the trendiest and most popular items on the market; however, one thing which I don't associate myself with is going against a belief - and being an individual who needs a reason for most of her actions - including items of clothing and accessories I choose to put on; I needed to somehow justify my moment of delusion in potentially purchasing a pair. As I looked at photos online and approximately four girls in five, walking down the busy Oxford Street, there was something tickling my mind waiting to be noticed.  So I recognised what it was and took

So as I had mentioned before, I enjoy shopping and accept that it is possibly my worst addiction.  I haven't however mentioned specifics and have now got to move onto the more exciting detail.  Spending money on plane tickets.  My latest trip was to Berlin.  I have been there before for only two days but I must say that seeing just a wall and visiting the Christmas market was far from sufficient and I knew I had to go back and visit from the day I got there and began exploring; so here it was. I arrived in Berlin on a cold but sunny Sunday Afternoon and the first thing which caught my attention was the long streets - covered in art.  I don't think I had appreciated the fun and colourful walls which are covered in graffiti as much as I thought I did the last time I was there.   When I arrived at the Park Plaza on Wall Street, I noticed a lot of bikes on the street corner which were to rent.  Of course immediately I tried to get on one to see if my legs would actually reach and

Im not afraid of being alone.  I notice that the way I think is usually a lot different to those I hang out with and whom I share my age with.  I’m always told that the way I think is very strange, or some prefer to say silly. Sometimes, I am also aware that its silly or weird but I just argue my point just because I hate other peoples thoughts or opinions being an influence on mine.  I hate having to admit that I just changed what I believe most in doing which is proving a point; and agreeing with someone else. Besides the point that I love a mental challenge every now and then, I must admit that I can be as blunt as a knife where necessary - or even sometimes unnecessary.  This doesn’t bother me, though. I hate sugarcoating and really dislike those who believe in this.  If I don’t like something, I will make my point.  Never rude, or disrespectful - but only honest.  My honest is a lot different to the standard honest because whether it is harsh or not, I never hold back my wo

Why do we shop? It seems like we spend most of our time, worrying too much about what we are going to wear and what others would think of it.  As much as we tell ourselves that we dress to impress ourselves, there is the undeniable fact that we visualise the likes on Instagram along with what filter we could use to post our next selfie; in our new outfit. Well, me, personally… I shop because it makes me happy.  You know that feeling when you feel like you need something so bad, that if you don’t have it your world will turn upside down and its no longer worth living in… well that.  Everytime I see something I like and try and convince myself with my own lies.  “You don’t need it, Ozlem,” I say, trying to justify the fact that I’m fibbing to myself.  I can’t quite understand why or how you can need an object so bad that you shop till you no longer have money, or to the point where you know payday seems to be getting further away. Let me not start on my credit card drama. “I