Sunday Girl Issue 2

Sunday Girl

MAGAZINE

W H A T S U N DAY S M E A N T O

LAUREL

0 634158 585630 >

£6.00

FASHION MAGAZINE FOR INTELLECTUAL GIRLS No 2// SPRING/SUMMER 2016

This Sunday Girl belongs to

Volume 2

S u n d ay G i r l Intellectual Talk and Fashion for Girls Who Don’t Follow The Crowd

EDITOR | ABIGAIL DENNISON

Welcome to Issue 2! We can’t believe we are here.

Throughout this issue we want to take you on a journey, inspire, educate, enlighten and as always, continue to champion girl power. We have worked with some incredible people, unearthed amazing stories, spoken to extraordinary girls and we can’t wait for you to turn the page and begin your journey through Issue 2.

You mean the world.

We hope you enjoy reading as much as we have enjoyed creating. We look forward to presenting our next issue in Autumn/ Winter 2016.

PHOTOGRAPHERS | KATIE SILVESTER, AMY LIDGETT, XANTHE HUTCHINSON, ABIGAIL DENNISON, ALICE WINT, ANDRE TITCOMBE STYLISTS | MOLLY BRIDGER, ELLE B, CHARLOTTE MOSS HAIR STYLISTS AND MUAS | CRISTINA SEGOVIA, SYLVIA DENNISON, RHIANNON CHALMERS, ANDREA CHUI, LOU STEFANI, EMILY PORTER WRITERS | ABIGAIL DENNISON, ELIZABETH BEH, BEATRICE HELMAN, JESSICA SIMPSON, PHILIPPA CHEESMAN, LUCY MILLIGAN ILLUSTRATORS | LORNA MCINTYRE, JESSIE BUTTERFIELD MODELS | LAUREL, ILONA & SASHA @ PREMIER MODELS, MARCIE @ BOOKINGS MODELS , NICOLE MAGNOLIA, JULIET PINDER, JESSIE PINK, FRED @ PREMIER MODELS, JENNA @ SELECT MODELS MAGAZINE LAYOUT AND GRAPHIC DESIGN | ABIGAIL DENNISON For submissions and general enquiries: hello.sundaygirlmag@outlook.com

Huge thanks to Sylvia and David Dennison, Elizabeth Beh, Katie Silvester, Molly Bridger, Cristina Segovia, Laurel Arnel-Cullen, Amy Lidgett, Aurora, Caroline Crick, Eyv Hardwick, Nicola Craddock, Ben Clowes, Jamie MacDonald, Frances Moffatt and Amy Dover at Cleveland College of Art and Design, Lauri-Beth Egerton, Billie at Bookings Models, Annie-Lou at Premier Models, Victoria Heward, Rookie Skates, Pop Vintage, Jean, Peter and Crackle at Malvern House, Kitty Kane, Sophie Dale and Peter at St Pancras Clock Tower.

REPRODUCTION OF SUNDAY GIRL MAGAZINE ™ IN WHOLE OR PART IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED WITHOUT THE PRIOR WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE EDITOR

Contents 6

Sunday Girl Gang Because everyone’s welcome in our gang

22

38

Girl On Mars

60

Girl Boss, Nancy Loves Nails

Aspiring Astronaut, Kitty Kane, kicking ass

Northern girl Sophie Dale killing it in the nail art world

40

62

The Girl’s Guide to Doing You

Mr Blue

Beside The Seaside

Like what you like, be who you wanna be

We’re wearing blue, not feeling blue.

Xanthe Hutchinson takes us to Gwent

24

44

Introducing Our Cover Girl

Badass Women in History

Laurel Arnel-Cullen, angel by face and voice

Lillian Bland and Nellie Bly showing us a thing or two

70

He Thinks He’ll Blow Our Minds Sunday Girl goes alien watching in New Mexico

36

48

Aurora

Wanderlusting

A short story of travel musings

Aurora transports us half the world away with her voice

Travel the world at home with these wanderlust films

I Will Go

84

Sunday Girl Gang

PHOTOGRAPHER - KATIE SILVESTER | STYLIST - MOLLY BRIDGER | MUA - RHIANNON CHALMERS & ANDREA CHUI USING MAC | HAIR - SYLVIA AT CHINTZ | SHOOT DIRECTION - ABIGAIL DENNISON | SHOOT ASSISTANT - ELIZABETH BEH | MODELS - ILONA AND SASHA AT PREMIER & MARCIE AT BOOKINGS | WARDROBE - ASOS, ZARA & POP VINTAGE ALL ROLLERSKATES BY ROOKIE SKATES

- S U P P O R T

Y O U R

L O C A L

G I R L

G A N G -

7 // Sunday Girl

FASHION

The Girls Guide to

Doing You

Sylvia Plath (1932 - 1963) Poet, Novelist, Writer

You us ed t o ca ll m e on m y cell p hone L a t e n ig ht when y ou need m y lov e Ca ll m e on m y cell p hone L a t e n ig ht when y ou need m y lov e An d I know when t ha t hot lin e b lin g Tha t ca n on ly m ea n on e t hin g I kn ow when t ha t hot lin e b lin g Tha t ca n on ly m ea n on e t hin g Ev er s in ce I left t he cit y, You g ot a rep u t a t ion for y ou rs elf n ow Ev ery b od y knows a nd I feel left ou t Gir l y ou g ot m e d own , y ou g ot m e s t ress ed ou t ‘ Ca us e ev er s in ce I left t he cit y, y ou s t a r t ed wea ring less a nd g oin ’ out m ore Gla ss es of cha mp a g n e out on t he d a n ce floor H a ng in’ wit h s om e g irls I ’ v e nev er s een b efore

Today 14:20

Sometimes I like to read Sylvia Plath whilst playing Drake in the background (Read 14:21)

O

n occasion I will go to the theatre to watch an Ibsen or Chekov play and during the interval I find myself scrolling through Buzzfeed and ugly laughing to myself at “Guys who failed so bad at Tinder that they actually won.�

I realised something the other day, that I, yes I have some strange and possibly inappropriate feelings for Justin Beiber. This epiphany occurred to me as I was relentlessly trawling through every radio station trying desperately to catch that sweet, sweet voice. At that moment philosophical questions started clouding my mind like; “you do realise he’s not a good person right? Am I even more uncool than I initially thought? AM I A BELEIBER?!?”

Prior to this I had unashamedly sung along to the 2015 hits such as, “where are u now?” and “sorry” but up until that moment I had fooled myself that it was just an ironic like, not a real one. It got me thinking; surely I cant be the only one who filters my likes and dislikes in order to seem ‘cool’ or ‘intelligent’. I was once the girl who turned her nose up to One Direction and programmes like Don’t Tell the Bride merely because I didn’t want people to assume I was that kind of girl.

Luckily I grew up, realised that Don’t tell the Bride is a fantastic albeit cringe worthy programme, yet, I still kept it on the down low, afraid of my oh so cool friend’s opinions. My life has often been defined by extremes.

Perhaps I feel this way because I was brought up in a multicultural home where I so often ate my traditional Sunday roast with rice and soy sauce. When I was living in university halls I was speaking to a group of people who started a rant about how awful reality TV is, I stayed quiet but quickly crawled back to the comfort of my room and switched on Made in Chelsea. So, in one-way or another the idea of incompatibility permeates my life. Most days you can find me munching on kale salads or a wholesome lentil bake, but catch me on a different day and I will literally be inhaling chips, Twix’s and seriously worrying amounts of Haribo- I should technically be a giant gummy bear by now. When it comes to exercise I will either be up at 6AM for a run/sweaty session in the gym or I will stay in bed until 2 pm wondering what on earth I am doing with my life. The same applies for culture and entertainment. There has been more than one occasion that I have watched a French New Wave film like Breathless or The 400 Blows directly followed by The Only Way is Essex, sometimes I like to read Virginia Woolf whilst playing Jason Derulo in the background (don’t mock it until you’ve tried it). And on occasion I will go to the theatre to watch an Ibsen or Chekov play and during the interval I find myself scrolling through buzzfeed and ugly laughing to myself at “Guys who failed so bad at Tinder that they actually won.” I have found happiness from each of these examples and isn’t that what really matters. These pleasures are not guilty. Just because I do something that is deemed ‘dumb’ it does not reduce the capacity of my brain, so, my time could be better spent but everyone needs to switch off sometimes, even the world’s brightest brains (don’t worry, I am not including myself in that bracket).

People, after all are defined by their likes and dislikes and I see it like this. The broader and more expansive your likes are, it shows an open mind. If you can see the creativity in David Hockney at the Royal Academy as well as in a Taylor Swift video then that is something to celebrate. Probably the best way to avoid people judging you is to own it. If you’re confident enough to say “hey, it’s not trendy but I am addicted to both University Challenge and the Kim Kardashian app” those who roll your eyes and look at you like you’re stupid aren’t worth your time and those that accept you for the little weirdo that you are will probably be your BFFL’s. Some may judge that these ‘hobbies’ are shallow but I truly believe that one can appreciate these things on a surface level without having to subscribe to its ideas. In other words, you don’t have to think that Kim Kardashian is a great person but you’ve got to appreciate that woman’s contour- it’s truly flawless. Believe me, anyone who claims that they do not like Taylor Swift are lying. And if they choose to continue to neglect the truth then there will be some Bad Blood.

Get it? Cool, right?

- Words by Elizabeth Beh

Is it too late now to say sorry?

23 // Sunday Girl

FEATURE

Upcoming major singer-songwriter and 21-year-old dreamboat Laurel is set for huge things in 2016. Decribed as “the new face of British alt-pop” by Vogue, Laurel is already turning heads with 2 self released EPs on her back and a killer debut album in the making.

And there’s no suprise she’s making waves, her signature haunting vocals featuring orchestral arangements and subtle electronic touches embodies a new sound and layer of alternative, indie pop.

Since her first dabble at song writing, aged just 14, she has since amassed over 9 million online song plays, supported the likes of John Newman and Jack Garratt on their UK tours, played LA, Radio One’s Big Weekend and Bestival among others.

We had the pleasure of meeting this angel and boy oh boy, she is an ultimate Sunday Girl. eat.your.heart.out.

- INTRODUCING OUR MUSE AND COVER GIRL-

L A U R E L @classiclaurel Photography - Katie Silvester Styling - Molly Bridger MUA - Cristina Segovia Shoot Direction - Abigail Dennison With huge thanks to Jean, Peter and Crackle at Malvern House

25 // Sunday Girl

FASHION

Previous page, dress Flea Madonna, this page Flea Madonna jacket

ASOS Suede Shirt

ASOS Blue Boots and Sunglasses

Zara Sunglasses, Paul and Joe embroidered dress

Paul and Joe tweed tweed two piece

“My favourite Sunday is to go down to Columbia Road Flower market in London and listen to the buskers amongst the flowers!” Laurel

35 // Sunday Girl

FASHION

I Will Go A Short Story

and when he calls out I’ll tell him that love is a virtue but I have to go or I’ll shrivel up into a tiny pea...

And I felt the sun beat on my back and the wind slap at my face and I knew there was no turning back from this trail of my own and I’ll go on, as needed...

Before I leave I’m going to line them up, all of them, my dad next to my mum and my two brothers next to them, and then I’ll put my boyfriend next to them, three stops away from my dad because my dad makes him so and then I’ll line up my friends after that by height. I’ll go down the line and ask them, how much will you miss me, this much, this much or this much? Would you miss me more if you I let your friends sleep in my room when they sleep over? Would you miss me more if I came home every night right on time, would you miss me more if I promised to stay, will you miss me at all, say it again and again and again. My dad will bite his nails down to the core and white bone, even though he hasn’t done that in years and now his cuticles are plump and clean, his little pink nails snug and safe from the clash of his teeth, except for the day I leave, when he’ll gnaw and gnaw and gnaw. My best friends will cry into each others arms and my boyfriend will look up at me with grass green eyes so deep I can see the fear pooling at the bottom, and I’ll take his hand very gently and say that I have to go, I have to go and I am going and I’ll squeeze it really tight before I keep walking, and when he calls out I’ll tell him that love is a virtue but I have to go or I’ll shrivel up into a tiny pea.

I’ll pack everything up really nice and neat and clean, all my shirts folded and the underwear and socks in my shoes and around the edges, to maximize space; this way I can go with just a backpack, with just what I really need exactly like they do in the books, just themselves and a pack and a pair of really thick shoes. I’ll find the shoes at the outdoor store in town and I’ll try on every pair they have, just to be sure and I’ll wear them so that they don’t take up space, because all the space will be taken up with the snacks I’ll find at the store, the kind they eat when they climb up Everest, freeze dried this and powdered that. I know how it’ll go, the first few days, where my stomach will clench I miss them so bad and I won’t be hungry but that’s okay, more food for later, when I’ll be so hungry I’ll use the word ravenous and feel like my stomach is an endless soul sucking pit. I’ll use my guidebook, that I bought last year when I knew I had to look forward or look the same and looking the same wasn’t an option, since you can’t just let a hyper heart simmer and fizz until it flames out, and my heart hops around like a cricket bouncing back off the glass walls of a cage.

I’ll wake up in Paris, Paris land of light, where I’ll be able to fix aching with macaroons, the kind that shatter when you bite into them, not as soft as you thought but harder. Don’t miss out on the cheese, I’ll hear my mother’s voice in my head, so I’ll sit alone under a heat lamp even though it will be at the start of the trip so it will be May and too warm for a heat lamp, but I’ll sit there anyways alone eating a baked camembert, an entire cheese round to myself and me only. I’ll eat gelato in Italy and entire pizzas dripping with sauce and I’ll be very delicate with the spaghetti, and I’ll hear my father’s voice telling me that yes, I’m doing it right, you twirl your fork like this and then like that and don’t worry about getting sauce on your face and if you’re going to worry about it, get it without the sauce. There will be whole fish in Greece and I’ll get one tiny bone caught in my throat that I’ll try to cough up for three days and it will finally come up in Turkey, right in the middle of the souk, right when I’m trying to argue with a man over the price of a Turkish Delight, not that I want one really but it has the name and seems so elegant, so powdered, like red jelly rolled in pure snow and the biggest mound of them I’ve ever seen and suddenly I’ll understand how one could forsake their siblings for such a thing even though I never did before. I’ll look up from my delight and there I’ll be, where I was trying to get to all along, at the base of a snow covered Matterhorn, and I’ll remember the way it loomed out of the map, ridged and how I traced the little ridges with my pinky finger and laughed when my boyfriend said he heard that in Switzerland the streets were paved with chocolate; but I heard myself laugh from the inside out and I laughed a little bit inside too because everybody knows that nobody says that, and then I folded the map and slipped it back between my mattress and the bed and said why didn't we go get some plain of New Jersey chocolate then.

The mountain will loom above me, the top disappearing into the mist and gathering snow as it goes up, an icy pyramid and taller than anything I’ll have ever stood in front of, and my heart will palpitate; I won’t know whether to stick my heels in and head on up or listen to my brain tissue, telling me to run away, or to listen to my heart beating and screaming at me that I haven’t done anything yet, to show up for duty and serve myself and my heart that will be beating, pushing oxygen out and out. I’ll stay at base camp an extra two days just until my breathing is steady and also to see the way the sun falls horizontally on the mountain in the morning, a pastel ship in an ocean of clouds, moody and with a foundation so deep nothing can push it over. I’ll cling to the mountain on the way up, so close that it can feel my breath and heart beat, so close that my skin will graft to its skin and actually tearing them apart will be like when saran wrap folds over on itself and you need to be very quiet and very still to slide a fingernail between them and pull them apart. That will be the painful part, when sweaty skin breaks from sweaty skin, I’ll have to squeeze my watering eyes shut and feel it part like skin to pleather seat; I’ll cling to the mountain and shake in the wind and they’ll have to yell at me to keep moving or else I’ll freeze or drop or my body will get it and just give up, so keep going they’ll yell at me and I’ll feel the wind and the sun and the clouds will look so close that it seems as though I could reach out and run my fingers along the edges but really they’ll be far away and a long way to go. I’ll scrape my knees and - yes I know, I’ll bring band aids, I would have remembered – I’ll be amazed every time a hand reaches forward and up, watching it work like a robot limb, not my own, not me whose scared of everything and everyone, especially everyone. I know what you say, that sometimes you have to live on the edge, where here I’ll be, right on the edge hanging from one arm and body to body with a giant rock. When I reach the top I won’t scream or cry but instead I’ll clutch my heart so that it doesn’t just drop out of my chest. And then when I know it’s safely still in there I’ll smile, first really small and only to myself, and then even huger so that I’m drowning in my own smile and still only to myself and know that I can fly on my own wind. I’ll close my eyes so that I’ll be able to say I closed my eyes on top of the world and when I open them I’ll be feet in the sand, looking down at an ocean, glittering diamonds and sun webs, gentle giant swells, the kind of water that is what they made the word aqua for; the kind of water that lets you see straight down the mossy bottom, even when it’s fifty feet deep and my legs will look like giant flippers, pale and awkward and long but moving back and forth But before all that happens, before I have to blink twenty times to open my eyes, before I watch myself dancing with that diamond sky reflection and my hair feels like seaweed and the water starts to seep into my pores so that I know if I took a lick my skin it would taste like salt, before all that happens I’ll stand at the top of this huge dune and feel my legs start to trip and the wind and the sun and the way that everyone used to call my name and I’ll be flying, heels hot in the sand and guts spilling out of my chest until I dive into the water, head first and with abandon.

- Words By Beatrice Helman

Ever thought about a life on Mars? To leave Earth and completely start again, take part in ground breaking work and start a new community on the red planet, it seems totally out of this world right?

Kitty Kane is a small town girl from the USA, she likes eating food out of pouches, reality TV and dreams of painting the martian landscape. Not only is she one cool gal, she was also shortlisted as a candiate for the Mars One mission. We managed to grab a chat with this girl with big dreams.

Space travel, cool right?! Where did this ambition come from?

I have always wanted to live on another planet. My childhood journals were full of really embarrassing drawings of Mars colony infrastructure. I don’t know quite know where it started, though. I do remember the first time I fully realized that I was stuck on this planet; it made me feel uneasy in a hard-to-describe kind of way. I still feel this way.

I believe colonising another planet is imperative to our survival as a species. There are countless forces at work that are racing to wipe us out first.

Our world could come to an end because of war, famine, disease, climate change, a meteor, or something else entirely. If this is the only place where humans live, everything we have ever accomplished or created would be lost. Aside from the doom and gloom, the technology required for such a mission would be sure to improve the lives of people living on Earth as well. Advances are likely to be made in medicine, food production, solar energy, and recycling.

What made you apply for the Mars One opportunity?

Like many children, I dreamt of becoming an astronaut when I grew up. As I grew older, I realised that I probably didn’t quite have what it takes.

While I believe that people should pursue what inspires them, I also believe that discovering your innate talents will make you the happiest. I became interested in other things, and chalked up my astronaut dreams to childishness. I didn’t seriously consider becoming an astronaut until Mars One burst onto the scene. Mars missions are not cheap, so in order to fund their venture, they decided to turn the entire astronaut selection process into a highly publicised worldwide event. The best part

was that anyone over eighteen was welcome to apply. The thought of being one of the first people to set foot on Mars was something I couldn’t pass up. I applied in the spring of 2013 and made it through several rounds. However, I was eliminated in 2015. Rejection is never a great feeling, but I really do feel content to stay on Earth for now. I recently got married to my ever patient and supportive husband who waited for me even when it seemed likely that I would be leaving Earth behind.

I still would very much like to be a Mars colonist someday, even if I’m not the first. Hopefully they’ll be a thriving retirement community on the red planet waiting for me in fifty years.

Do you feel girls are made aware of the opportunities to venture into space travel?

I don’t feel that young girls today are being kept out of any conversations about science and technology, however, I believe we need to be doing more to actively encourage talented girls to enter those fields. Karen Flammer, space physicist and co-founder of the educational outreach program Sally Ride Science has said, "The latest data and surveys show females care greatly about improving the environment around them, and they care about helping people, and what we need to do is make that translation to show them the misconception that science is not a humanistic effort." The former Deputy Administrator of NASA, Lori Garver has pointed out that women are entering medical fields at numbers equal or greater than men, yet there is a huge imbalance in science and technology. She has said, "I do feel we have not done enough to explain careers in a way that shows how they really do help advance humanity.”

Interview by Abigail Dennison with huge thanks to Kitty Kane

FEATURE

Girl on Mars

39 // Sunday Girl

INSPIRE | WORK | SUCCEED

But if you decide to call on me Ask for Mr. Blue Model: Juliet Pinder - Stylist: Charlotte Moss - Photographer: Andre Titcombe - Hair and makeup: Lou Stefani

ASOS, £35

Rag & Bone, £66

41 // Sunday Girl

FASHION

ASOS New Balance, £42

Acne, £220

Karen Millen, £35

ASOS, Camp Collection £14

Hobbs, £199

Stella McCartney, £320

Watercolour illustrations by Lorna McIntyre @lorna_illustrates

What ' s in a

Dr ea m ?

We long for travel, we long for adventure, we long for freedom, but does this not happen every night when we close our eyes? Is there ever another instance where you can be transported to another place, maybe somewhere you’ve seen on television that evening, or perhaps come face to face with someone you’ve been thinking about for days? Dreaming does just that. Isn’t it amazing that you can be tucked up in your bed but deep in your unconcious thoughts you’re somewhere else completely?! We wanted to delve into the notion that our dreams have a “crucial psychological purpose”, that maybe they help us IRL to figure out problems or tell us that we need to dump that bad friend. Our minds are incredibly wired that’s for sure, but do you think that our dreams actually mean something or that they’re just a load of mumbo jumbo?

Dream analyst Jane Teresa Anderson thinks our dreams are incredibly poigniant, she states, “We dream to process our conscious and unconscious experiences of the last 1-2 days. Dreaming can help us to resolve issues, problem-solve, and come up with creative ideas.

Though, sadly, we all too often hang onto our oldest and most valued beliefs even when these are not serving us well, and these can show themselves as recurring dreams. They often reflect unconscious beliefs that are keeping us stuck in life, or causing inner conflict and stress.”

Certain types of dreams, we’re often told, are signs for what’s to come in our life. For example, growing up I was led to believe that dreaming of my teeth falling out meant that I was stressed, or a death in a dream meant a new life/ rejuvination else where. In her books, Anderson covers some of the common dreams and indications to what they mean, however she states, “There is no one-size-fits-all meaning for any of the common dreams. Every dream is unique and personal to the dreamer - there is no dream dictionary!”

One common reaccurring dream is the one where you can’t run away or you’re moving very

very slowly when all you want to do is get away.

Jane tells us that this often means self doubt, hesitation or an unconscious resistance to your goals. Another is the one where you miss a form of transport you needed to jump on. In this case, she tells us that your dream reflects your unconscious fear of missing out that drives you to the other extreme, and possible future burnout. The details of a dream help you to identify the beliefs and emotions that cause you to miss opportunities or to take on too many.

Maybe you think that breaking down all of our dreams sometimes takes them too literally or maybe you feel this is a vital part of making sense of our unconcious thoughts. Clinical Psychotherapist and Author, Jeffrey Sumber states, “There are no experts other than yourself when it comes to your own psyche so don’t stop trusting your own inner guide to your unconscious”.

At the end of the day, dreaming sure does help us understand ourselves a little bit more, even from the most mundane details; our brain are so incredibly clever and dreaming is just another adventure that we take, even if we’re still in our pyjamas.

Lilian Bland Lilian Bland, a journalist and aviator, lived a truly badass life. In 1910 she built her own plane, due to not having a fuel tank she made one from a whisky bottle and her aunt’s trumpet. The plane flew 30 yards, which was extremely impressive for a self made plane in those days. Throughout her life she smoked, swore, gambled, drank like a fish, wore trousers and painted. She also practiced martial arts. Now if that’s not ‘doing you’, then I dont know what is. Go girl.

Nellie Bly Nellie Bly was a daring and influential investigative journalist and wrote groundbreaking stories about political corruption and poverty. She faked madness to expose an abusive mental institution in New York. This caused obvious backlash and her jealous peers referred to her extreme lengths and investigations as “stunt reporting”, but Nellie couldn’t care less. Oh, and she once travelled around the world in a record-breaking 72 days, just ‘cause she’s badass like that.

The Art of Keeping a Diary M | T | W | T | F | S | S

As years have passed, daily diary writing has been on the decline. That tranquil yet somewhat romantic jotting of mundane happenings has been over looked by, yes you guessed it, social media. We all have that one ‘friend’ who over shares and we all just wish she’d keep the colour of her sister’s baby’s vomit to herself (yes that’s been posted before). It’s fair to say writing a status on Facebook isn’t quite the same as a hand written note in a beautiful bound diary and we totally want to bring this back!

Our fast lives, fast cars and fast fingers aren’t letting us embrace the now and writing about your day or week can help slow everything right down.

Years ago, diaries were really vital and have helped historians throughout the decade uncover incredible lives, stories and important details. At Sunday Girl we want to re-discover the most beautifully written diary accounts throughout the decades, in hope we can reignite the flame of daily penmanship.

We wanted to start off with the most famous diary.

‘The diary of a young girl’ author, Anne Frank wrote a gut-wrenching account of her time in hiding during World War ll . In her diary she named ‘Kitty’, which was given to her as a gift on her thirteenth birthday, she accurately chronicles her and her families lives in a hidden loft in Amsterdam, from June 12th 1942 until August 1st 1944. Anne’s father, Otto published her diary which was to become ‘The Diary of a Young Girl’. The book had incredible success and over the years has been made into films, television programmes, documentaries, theatre productions and even an opera.

Deemed as one of the most important diaries of history, Samuel Pepys kept a personal record of his life. Written in complete shorthand, Pepys’ diary documented a time of catastrophes in London, including The Great Plague of London in 1665 and the Great Fire of London in 1666. His diary provided an accurate insight into these events which ultimately shaped the city.

Another famous diarist was Virginia Woolf. A novelist and writer, she wrote many autobiographical accounts, letters and personal diaries throughout her life and these accounts proved highly personal. She wrote of her feelings and emotions, her relationship with her husband, and many thought processes of her famous stories and characters. Woolf also wrote an insightful entry in her diary the day before her suicide. Although she was never diagnosed, it is widely thought that she severely suffered from depression and at the age of 59 in 1941, she told her husband, “I feel certain now that I am going mad again. I shan’t recover this time.” That was the year of her death.

Andy Warhol also documented his day-to-day life.

In a time before paparazzi and gossip columns, Warhol’s etchings gave us an insight into his life full of parties, celebrity acquaintances and also his rather neurotic thoughts. His entries are often unashamedly superficial, he talks frequently of people he met or what he bought that day, however it is an account of how he saw himself in the world. In this passage he talks about his conversations with Bianca Jagger, he writes, “ And Bianca was driving me crazy, saying how she’s researching my days in Pittsburgh for her book on Great Men, and she went on and on about how I broke the system, broke the system, broke the system, and I felt like saying, “Look, Bianca, I’m just here. I’m just a working person. How did I break the system?” God, she’s dumb.”

The Diary of Friday Kahlo: An Intimate Self- Portrait was first published in 1995, as titled, the book is a 170 page journal full of witty thoughts, poems, dreams, illustrations, childhood memories, political views, jottings and personal outlooks all documented by the remarkable Mexican artist, Frida Kahlo. Written and decorated in brightly coloured inks, her musings cover the years 1944-45 and has proved as an incredible insight into her life and creative process.

As we’re well into an era where typing is more common than handwriting, will the greats of our time only be remembered and analysed by inserting a memory card or charging their old mobile phone?

It’s funny to think, but this may well be the case!

Now, we suggest you purchase a beautiful diary and start jotting your daily babble, keep penmanship alive!

47 // Sunday Girl

FEATURE

Illustration by Jessie Butterfield CCAD

Aurora “ I l o v e b u t t e r f l i e s a n d m o t h s e v e n m o r e t h a n c h o c o l a t e ”, she softy said with wide eyes

This 19 year old girl is taking the music scene by storm. She’s the haunting voice behind the tear jerking track, ‘Half the World Away’ from the John Lewis Christmas advert and with her debut EP flying high in the charts, being noted by Katy Perry as the ‘only music on her Spotify list’ and also being one of the most charming and alluring girls Sunday Girl has ever met, it’s no surprise this teen is set for big things.

Her enchanting style, her whimsical characteristics and her silver hair; it’s safe to say we were wholeheartedly under Aurora’s spell.

49 // Sunday Girl

MUSE

When did you first start making music?

I was 9 years old when I started writing songs but I wrote small piano pieces when I was 6. I started very young as I found something I loved.

Where do you find inspiration for your lyrics?

Mostly in happenings, when I’m on my own, my solo surroundings, when you’re on your own you can observe people.

Your dream collaboration?

Bob Dylan of course, other than that, the chemical brothers, they’re really cool Who do you think your sound is similar too?

Erm, I don’t know, I think I’m just doing my own thing. I guess everyone has a certain darkness to their music, as long as it’s emotional, dark, art pop I feel I am different.

What keeps you motivated and keeps you going?

I never wanted to be an artist or on the stage. I just really love to write songs and then my management found me. I like it now. The biggest motivation is that you know you’ll get the chance to be heard. I don’t want to be famous but it gives me extra motivation to know that I, someone so small, and I’m smaller than most people, can make a difference. Its nice to know that I may get chance to help and to do something good with my opportunity. You have so much power when you have fans, I can say to them today, ‘please be kind’ and they might remember that.

I travel almost everyday and play shows. Just do my best to make everyone and myself proud. The same.

I’m happy now, I feel like I’ve reached my dream, I can forever live like this.

What’s the first thing in your suitcase when you travel?

Oh books, always books. Fantasy books or crime, even though crime is really sad, as these things have actually happened. I can’t read crime without getting sad. But fantasy books are fine; they’re so fun to read. I think I’ve read almost every fantasy book ever wrote. I’m always looking for new books to read. Always books, then moths of course, and also empty books that I can write in. (ringing noise) Is that me or is that real? I have to check that its not just in my head *laughs* What do you do on Sundays?

Nowadays, I usually travel. Either I’m going home or to another show. Breakfast with the band on the plane and we travel all day. It’s fine because I get to read as much as I want. But my ideal Sunday would be a rainy one back in my home in Norway, drinking tea. I love being inside when it rains. (Car horn sound) you see at home, we don’t have sounds like that; we live far out, away from everyone almost in the forest and by the sea.

We have a big view of the ocean, that’s the view in my runaway video, it’s very relaxing. So I just love being there, almost mediating. Just don’t speak and it’s nice to do things that don’t include any sound. I look forward to that Sunday.

What advice would you give other girls who are following their dream?

Everyone should always think that there’s nothing in the world that they can’t do. If they want to do something, they should just do it. But its hard, I think I was very lucky to be discovered but the important thing is to just find a value in just doing what you do. If that’s enough, and you love it then people will see that and feel that.

If you believe it then you can succeed. If you love it so much other people can feel that emotion too.

What’s next for Aurora?

I have no idea. Now I’m finishing my record, which is out soon called All My Demons Greeting Me as a Friend.

Interview by Abigail Dennison Photographer - Amy Lidgett With huge thanks to Peter at St Pancras Clock Tower Master Suite and Caroline Crick at Decca Records

Margaret Hamilton This is one badass tech girl. Mathematician and computer science pioneer, Margaret Hamilton, was the lead software engineer of the Apollo Project. Here she is standing next to the code she wrote by hand in 1969. It was thanks to her and her code that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin could land on the moon. Oh and she also invented the term, “software engineering�.

Hedy Lamarr This is Austrian-born American inventor and actress Hedy Lamarr. She invented “frequency hopping� technology, which was used in a secret communications system and in radio-controlled torpedoes in WWII, which in turn laid the foundations for future technological developments such as Wi-Fi and GPS. She was also a movie star. Because why the hell not?!

53 // Sunday Girl

FEATURE

Model: Nicole Magnolia - Photographer: Alice Wint

T

he Roll Neck Jumper, a staple piece amongst any wise girl’s wardrobe. They’ve been in an out of the trend pages for years but they’re sure here to stay for S/S 16. Seen all over the new season’s runways, Marni brought us the sporty vibes and lego-brights. Dior came over all romantic in sheer silk organza turtle necks and Isabel Marant showed them in spacesuit whites worn with foil trousers.

A instant way to chic up any outfit and so easy to dress up or down. If you don’t yet own, then get out there and get one girl!

55 // Sunday Girl

FASHION

I

n case you missed a major 2015 trend, that off-white slogan t-shirt that only comes out on Sundays is now officially ‘a thing’. Seen on the Spring/Summer 2016 runways at Lacoste, Vetements and Carven, the slogan T is here for the next few seasons too. Worn with denim, suede, mini or midi skirts, or even your jazziest pants for a night with pals, this T always gives an edge to any look.

As called ‘norm-core’, it’s totally what we’d throw on any day, but we can actually look well put together. And don’t forget the trainers.

W

e’re all about longevity here at SG, with goals, friendships, bras and of course jeans are no exception. Week after week, our jeans are in and out of the wash and as well as the versatility, the comfort factor, and the 60’s ‘It girls’ such as Jane Birkin and Franciose Hardy who totally lived in them, we feel these badboys are never really going anywhere.

Whether they’re brand new, your boyfriends, ‘mom’s or rehomed from a charity bag, jeans are gunna be the only thing you’ll want to be wearing throughout those Spring showers.

INSPIRE | WORK | SUCCEED

Nancy

Loves

Nails

Girl Boss, Sophie Dale is a 19 year old Award Winning Nail Artist and young entreprenuer.

After opening up her business at just aged 14, Sophie is now dubbed as the most sought after Nail Artist in the North of England, with a waiting list of almost 2 months for an appointment with this girl, Sophie is the ultimate Girl Boss.

“Women should always empower eachother and I totally believe in the quote - Supporting another woman’s success will never dampen yours “

- As a young entrepreneur, have you always wanted to open your own business?

In school I lost interest of just following the crowd. I didn’t want to move away to Uni like everyone else, and I didn’t have a particular interest in any subject at school. I was very creative and enjoyed English Literature and Textiles where I could have complete control over what I wanted to write or create. At home I had started to get obsessed with watching YouTube tutorials and practicing on my family and friends. I loved being able to play around with colors and designs for fun and shortly after this I decided to start charging for my services. I was so proud when I saved up £300 and I still remember it to this day! The opportunity to make my own money and have control over my own hours and life was really motivating, as I’m very independent personally. I don’t know how I’d manage being employed by someone else now! Being able to create my business’s image was fantastic, as I seen a huge gap in the market for nail art in my local area, and a cool and quirky business to provide this. I love being able to offer my customers a laid back, relaxed “un-salon, salon” where they can sit down with me for a good gossip, a cup of tea and a good set of nails. Somewhere where they can come and completely be themselves. Being able to make people happy from a set of nails is the best feeling ever, and being able to cheer up someone’s day is why I get up every morning.

- How did Nancy loves nails begin?

My business began from very humble roots. I started business up when I was 14, which was something unheard of, however after recommendations the word spread. Soon enough I was doing home visits, nail parties for hen do’s, birthday parties etc. This meant I had to quickly create a brand for myself and something people could instantly recognise, which lead to the beginning of “Nancy Loves Nails”. I set up my page on Facebook, within a week I had received so much support and gained almost 1,000 likes in a week. I started posting pictures, starting with showcasing some of my work. After this, the appointments came rolling in! It was slightly weird at first as I started working at home, and welcoming strangers into my house was strange for me and my parents! I even remember my first lady stepping in, which was an amazing feeling. People came to know me well and I still believe working from home created an image of being of more than a friend than a nail technician, and I could create the relaxed environment I still have today in my own studio.

- Where did the name come from?

I really wanted a name that stood out from a typical salon name, something which sounded Vintage and completely different. I really wish I had an amazing back story to it, but I think because the name is so different, its instantly recognizable, with a lot of my ladies being questioned when they are out and about if they have “Nancy Loves Nails” nails, which acts as a good conversation starter and good promotion for me ! I’m so happy that my image comes through that strong that people who don’t know me even know my work.

- What's the best part about being self employed?

One of the best things is being able to totally be yourself. I can wear what I want, choose my work hours, and play whatever music I want too! This means I can do whatever I want within my business, and hell, if someone wants me to play Beyoncé all the way through their appointment, i’ll do just that ! It really does allow me to be completely

creative with my environment and the nails themselves which makes work fun, makes it more like play, which is what keeps me going and motivated.

- Would you ever consider going back into education or do you feel you're set now?

When people question me over if I’m going to Uni im never sure. Ive done all of my A levels and GCSE’s, so I do have the opportunity to, and the door is still open. However, I will do nails for as long as people want me! I would love to work on session in London fashion week or get some experience in London. There are so many cool salons and nail techs who work down there so to gain some of their skills would be amazing as I could bring it back to my clients.

- What's been your career highlight so far?

My career highlight so far was winning “Gelish Gives Back” with UK Gelish distributor Nail Harmony. They offered a chance to compete and apply for £500 worth of training with Nail Harmony and £1000 worth of kit. I had already had training in my local area, but gaining training with such a recognised company was a blessing. Only 10 people in the UK were chosen, and being one of them was amazing! I travelled down to Doncaster and was in heaven choosing all of my new colors and kit.

The training was so much fun as I had never been round people with a similar interest to me, I felt very at home!

- What's next for Nancy Loves Nails?

In 2016 I am going to do some more training with Gemma Lambert, who is a celebrity in the nail world. Her work is amazing and I have booked onto her next course to be able to further my skill in floral designs. I’m also going to work on trying to get into some magazines and get my name recognized beyond the North East. My work has started getting noticed by Nail Harmony and compliments from the owners has really encouraged me and boosted my confidence to try and get into magazines! I’m also going to continue working in my gorgeous new studio for my customers.

- Where do you get inspiration for your nail designs?

As a nail artist I look everywhere for inspiration, whether this is William Morris prints or on Pinterest. A lot of nail artists inspire me on Instagram too including Nancy Mc, Wah Nails and The Illustrated Nail. I love to create simple, fun, and classy nails that can be done in salon time. I can do a set of nails in 35 minutes with design which means ladies can pop in on their lunch break or get a set of nails done in a hurry! In the nail world there is always new, fun and creative things to use and buy so it’s always fun when someone lets me play around with designs, color and glitter. My job is literally like going to work to experiment and play!

- Going into business is super challenging, what's your number one thing you've learnt from being an entrepreneur?

The number one thing I have learned from being an entrepreneur is always being one step ahead. Hell, if you want that new collection, GET IT ! If you want to do that new design, DO IT ! Being a entrepreneur for me does mean being one step ahead and trying to be a better you every day. Then not only will you get customers, you will get ones that want to come back for something new every month!

This page - Roll neck - Uniqlo, Sheer top - Beyond Retro, Opposite page - Cashmere socks, Makeda Matheson, sandals Clarks vintage

Beside The Seaside PHOTOGRAPHY BY XANTHE HUTCHINSON | STYLING BY ELLE B | HAIR & MAKEUP BY EMILY PORTER MODELS - FRED @ PREMIER MODELS & JENNA @ SELECT MODELS SPECIAL THANKS TO THE STUNNING WEST USK LIGHTHOUSE WWW.WESTUSKLIGHTHOUSE.CO.UK

63 // Sunday Girl

FASHION

永遠にあなたのもの東京

ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND

Forever yours, Tokyo.

I don’t have too much to say on the topic of the big ‘forever’, being in my early twenties and therefore, a rookie at almost everything except perhaps bad decision making. But of love, I have observed this, thus far: it only stays quite as lovely if unpredictable and ever-evolving, particularly for those of us cursed with a wandering attention span, though I don’t pretend this is a new or radical philosophy; insert Woody Allen’s ‘dead shark’ analogy here. It occurs to me that the constant demand for new thrills and spills is perhaps too heavy a cross to bear for one other human being - idealistic, impractical even - but 10 days of adventure in the Japanese capital with a boyfriend and his inherited Leica camera at my side left me feeling like maybe I’d found a city up to the task (- also with a suspicion I might accidentally have consumed a large amount of hallucinogenic substances, but more on that to follow.) Said relationship did not last, but I remain heavily involved in my long distance love affair with the land of the rising sun.

my tendency to gush in an almost unbearably positive Despite manor when it comes to this topic, its hard to articulate the intense,

aching isolation one can feel as a westerner arriving in Tokyo, hungry, confused and stoned with jetlag, mostly because I found it incomparable to arriving in any other strange new city. Forget cities as you know them, or in fact any entire country, because I felt as though I had left planet earth behind altogether. I was in some strange new corner of the universe: maybe it was the future- as there is an utopian feel to the sprawling metropolis that has experienced more vertical expansion in the last couple decades than horizontal. The first couple days can be disconcerting, as you wander around the semi-contained chaos of Tokyo’s different districts, testing if gravity and oxygen still follow the same principles as you recall from your last fleeting minutes in Heathrow.

Most days began with no map and no particular destination in mind, and public transport made our indulgent indecisiveness a relatively painless process. The Tokyo Metro system is, being inherent of its engineers, meticulously timed, clinically clean and noiseless. We must have spent hours riding across that underground labyrinth in quiet, pale pink carriages, the heating system on full to accommodate for a biting Japanese December. I dozed sporadically above the humming vibrations of the tracks below, only to come to suddenly at each new stop, a dozen sets of politely curious eyes fixed upon me. I couldn’t list you an extensive list of tourist attractions, but we did also spent a (genderdorm divided) night in a Capsule hotel - 500 sharply dressed investment bankers, and 2 Scottish teenagers, overexcited at the prospect of free flannel pajamas. I climbed in to my plastic pod feeling like I was about to embark on space travel - though space travel circa 1962. There was even a miniature, doll house television, presenting a choice of monotone news readers or pornography, covering all bases for its overworked, short stay clientele.

Pulled in by walls of Technicolor video screens, many hours were spent wandering, shell shocked, through revolving casinos and vibrating arcade spaces, an assault of flashing red light and menacing cartoon voices.

This sensory invasion struck me particularly hard in one windowless gaming complex, misleadingly named Sunshine City, and we ran, fingers entwined out of the asylum and in to a calm and sprawling back street.

Lined with neat, dark hedge rows and blossomless winter branches, sanctuary was found in a quiet square playing host to a number of pinstriped businessmen murmuring quietly in to headsets, whilst at least 30 stray cats waltzed, mewing between the legs of their distracted human companions, patient for attention or scraps of discarded sandwich meat like. We sat watching this strange feline dreamscape until my fever lifted, and ventured home in a gentle snow storm of pale cherry blossoms, along streets scented with thick, perfumed temple smoke. A few short hours had spanned so many curious scene changes, our back drop shifting at each new turn, yet every peculiar episode from that day probably played out in the same square Tokyo mile. It was a good day. It was a good mile.

I enjoyed existing in a city that constantly demanded my attention. A shortcut down a side street or the excursion of an underground shopping mall could make you double-take at break-neck speed, and every night I fell in to my hostel bunk, my mind smothered with jetlag, and split open again and again with shock of the new. I learned quickly that expecting the unexpected was probably the best starting point; teenagers could regularly be found, happy meals in hand, dressed as Victoriana Goths, or Nurses accessorised with a stethoscope, complete with fake-blood splatters. Vending machines in seemingly deserted side streets were neatly stacked with bread and individual eggs. We experienced a small earthquake, and I saw a woman walking a cat on a lead (and those events excited me in roughly equal measures.) The possibility of the unexpected glinted in the weak winter sunshine on every street corner, and you have a choice to be made: To resist is to find this place and its practices, I would

imagine, a bizarre and frustrating experience. But I suggest you drink the saki and enjoy your decent down the rabbit hole.

Tokyo is a city of badly hidden vices, and whilst the calm and orderly exterior presented by your guide book may prefer to promote stock images of ancient tea ceremonies or miniature bonzi trees, treat these traditions as an important but singular part of your pilgrimage. A little piece of zen to carry with you in to the deliciously depraved underworld of dancing, drinking and singing karaoke with unashamed feeling.

From pale, painted Geishas girls, to well dressed and notoriously brutal Yakuza gangs, sex and violence softly flickered like ever present shadows, hidden behind the screens of convention and modesty. I suspect this juxtaposition is not unusual in more traditional cultures, but I’m yet to encounter anywhere more celebratory of both, and all the weird and wonderful experiences there are to be had between the kimono and the latex maid’s costumes (She might even be your waitress in certain establishments - singing to your food to improve its flavour, of course.)

This would be a fairly shodding retelling of the city if I failed to note a large part of Tokyo’s seduction technique lay in its cuisine, and my greed being what it was and remains, I spent 10 days with permanently ramen burnt taste buds, which we remedied with a daily hit of the nearest Burger King’s 99 yen vanilla soft serve (we were happy to revel in our tourist status where cheap dessert was concerned.) A considerable amount of our adventures in fact, were navigated by ever-expanding palettes and never-satisfied, stomachs - a pursuit neatly summarised by the phase ‘Kuidore’ - to eat oneself in to bankruptcy. Sometimes we struck gold, like stumbling upon a dark, cramped noodle bar in the middle of the Harajuku district, where I sat in the smoke and steam of an open kitchen, dying and being reborn several times in soup dumpling Nirvana, though more than once our 5pm sugar rush tasted disconcertingly savory - grainy, in fact - and we soon learned to be suspicious of bean paste masquerading as chocolate. I can close my eyes at in the glare of my laptop now and taste the salt of miso broth. Charred, sticky Teriyaki chicken. Oh, and even the sickly sweet nausea of the day I decided to eat a piece of cheesecake - wrapped in a crepe - for lunch, with bottled water and a banana for the subsequent dinner.

From time to time I will find myself craving sashimi, slithers of glistening, dark red toro, and even the semi-sadistic urge to set the roof of my mouth alight with deceptively soft, pale wasabi. With a handful of decent, wood paneled Japanese restaurants a walk able distance away in my own city, I have no real excuse to be a brat about my access to a hand roll in times of need (and believe me, these times hit me with regularity.) But here in lies my problem, dear reader: those establishments do not open their doors for business at 8:30am; the time of day I am now resigned to begin craving bowls of steaming rice and meat and dark, savory soy, preferably served on a plastic tray and topped with shards of pink pickled ginger, if you please. You try going back to toast.

On days my own streets seem particularly flat and predictable, I take a strange, self-soothing comfort in knowing that on the other side of the planet exists my very own emerald city. I can watch Lost In Translation and eat something raw and look through my photographs, and it still glows, even if that light is now maybe pink neon strip lighting and not teenage infatuation- the two can still be deceptively similar.

Perhaps it’s a fair assessment of my retelling, to presume that this is all rather rose-tinted anyway- most cities will appear bathed in some strange, ethereal light when you’re in love, its beauty born out of your state of mind, regardless of style or season. And I know that to be young and in love and drunk on the freedom of an open return ticket was an almost stupidly good place to be in any one lifetime. But then again, so is Tokyo.

- Words by Lucy Milligan

“Toto, I’ve a Feeling We’re Not in Kansas Anymore”

He’d like to come and meet us but he thinks he’d blow our minds

71 // Sunday Girl

FEATURE

Sunday Girl, Beatrice Helman took a trip to a town known as the world renowned Alien c r a s h s i t e ; s h e g i v e s u s a n i n s i g h t i n t o t h e w a y s o f R o s w e l l , N e w M e x i c o.

There aren’t that many places you wake up, look out the window with sleepy eyes, still wrapped up in your comforter, and see a six foot green alien with slanted eyes and a pointy chin looking in at you through the Super 8 window. There aren’t that many places where the phrase ‘Aliens Welcome’ is actually used on more than one sign, or where Alien Beer and Alien Jerky are as ubiquitous as the regular versions. And there aren’t really any other places where the McDonalds looks like a giant flying saucer and the street lamps have the slanted oval shaped eyes of an alien. Roswell, New Mexico, is that place.

I’ve always felt like someone who has a little bit of alien in them. I’m always kind of out of step, veering to the right when everyone else is leaning left or falling asleep on the couch while the rest of the city runs wild. I’ve always been ten to twenty steps behind, a 90’s kid scrambling to catch up. I hadn’t heard of Britney Spears until eighth grade and my life changing Gilmore Girls moment happened in college. I’ve never seen Boy Meets World, wore corduroys until I was 14 and bought my first pair of jellies last summer. In much the same way that I felt going to Salvation Mountain after a breakup would bring me salvation - which it did, by the way - I felt very strongly that going to Roswell, New Mexico, the alien town, would help me settle into my always a little bit too big and baggy skin. Or at least it would bring me one step closer to my spirit animal and help me assess the real time possibility of a thousand tiny little ET’s descending on earth wrapped in blankets. And once it was lodged in my mind, there was no getting out of it. So I dragged my brother across the country on a seven hour flight through to see if we were believers...

People fly and drive from all over the world to see Roswell. They come to soak up the undisputedly one of a kind vibrations of a place that believes in the extraordinary and to believe it themselves, if only for a few minutes or a few days. They visit the museum and attend the annual UFO Festival, taking pictures in front of the giant Alien Zone mural and hoping that they’ll find some sort of definitive proof. And Roswell lives up to it’s reputation. If you want to buy an alien coloring book or a hundred plastic cups with UFO’s dancing on them, this is the right place. If you’re looking for a motel with a giant silver flying saucer in the parking lot, this is where you’ll find it.

The world famous UFO Museum is the most interesting part of the town, with an expansive library and research section in the back that includes an enormous catalogue of UFO sightings. It gives a step by step walk through of the 1947 crash, or the ‘incident’ as the locals call it. It moves from minute details of the actual crash, to eyewitness accounts, to the subsequent supposed government cover up in which they claimed the debris was part of a weather balloon. There’s an entire wall devoted to evidence of other incidents, including signed testimonies of sightings and abductions. Meanwhile, the local Arby’s advertises fajita flatbread and french dip under a flashing neon sign that says ALIENS WELCOME. Windows are painted with oval eyed aliens and metallic flying saucers. A furniture store has two paper cutouts in the window, one an old alien grandpa, the other his grey haired alien wife. Enormous neon green statues hold pizzas and guard doors. And it just feels like the kind of place aliens could land, a desert town with wide open fields, pitch black at night, full of ranch style houses left over from its past as a military base.

Whether or not aliens really did crash, the importance of the mystery can be felt in every bit of the place. Nobody feels it more than Dennis Balthasar, local expert and self proclaimed truth seeker. On his tour of Roswell, Dennis will take you

through the entire event, piece by piece, stopping at the important landmarks and offering tidbits of insider information. The tour includes stops at buildings around town, some of which are changed, some of which are untouched, some of which are long gone. He’ll take you out to the airport to see the hangers where the UFO’s were originally thought to be taken and examined before being shipped to other parts of the country, and where a witness said he saw their bodies, covered in a metallic sheen, the size of a small child but with oversize heads and only orifices. He’ll point out the house of Major Jesse Marcel, who supposedly brought part of the flying saucer home, showing it to his wife and son with wonder and then pretending it never happened, only admitting in his old age that he had seen the alien bodies. He’ll talk about the depths the government will go to shield the public from the truth. The facts are convincing. But what’s really the most convincing is Dennis himself, a true believer, committed without fail and without even a tiny crack of doubt. When Dennis tells you that they don’t want to harm us, you’ll find yourself agreeing. Yes, yes of course, they wouldn’t do that, they would only come if we needed help.

It’s a tour that shows an entire town seen in relation to the incident, balancing on an axis of belief. It’s paints a town drenched in history, with this legend seeping out of its seams to that even things that seem untouched are touched. The court house, Dennis points out, is brand new. But it stands on ground that used to be the old jail, and where one of the first flying sauce eyewitnesses lived. Dennis sees the courthouse not as a spanking new building, but as a building built over the home of a witness. Everything means something.

According to Dennis, there are no coincidences. Everything means something.

Every Roswell native is a potential witness, although he says most of the elderly locals still alive live in fear, refusing to speak about it and claiming not to have even been present in the town during the incident. But he persists, and in his persistence it’s hard not to find yourself agreeing with him, following his rationale with the enthusiasm of a researcher hot on the trail and about to uncover something huge. You almost expect a burning whizzing spaceship to spiral out of the sky or the winter light to fall sideways on an abandoned silver body.

Maybe it’s the museum full of unidentified photographs and spindly armed alien dummies or Dennis or the fact that even Andrew’s Donuts has a UFO hanging from the O in Donuts. But there’s just something in the air. I felt it. I felt it walking down main street, sitting across from my brother eating hamburgers at Whattaburger, sitting outside the enormous Walmart wondering why they made them take the aliens out of the windows. I felt it watching ranchers set up chili stands out of the backs of their trucks and people eating quesadillas from a galaxy painted truck. The New Mexico sun falls down there like it only does in the desert and the sky seems a billion times bigger than it does anywhere else. It feels like anything could be true, anything could happen. According to this town, anything might.

T shirts and magnets carry the message back to wherever the buyer is going, flashing green and grey and feeling like remnants from a space museum, but there’s something else trailing along underneath it all, unseen but never unfelt, the fairy dust of possibility and the traces of belief. As my brother said to me, sitting on the floor of the Dallas airport in our sweatpants, eating a brisket sandwich and delusional from lack of sleep and general confusion: it isn’t really about whether or not you actually believe it. It’s just that you believe that much in something.

- Words by Beatrice Helman

The Art of Packing L i g h t l y From the narrow streets of Italy to the markets of Marrakech, w h e re v e r y o u r w a n d e r i n g h ea r t t a ke s y o u , d o i t f re e l y.

We’ve all been there (if not physically, then in a horrible pre-flight nightmare). Clothes sprawled out at the check-in desk whilst frantically trying to rearrange those 7 pairs of shoes that are pushing your bag way over the weight limit. Shoving bras and dresses into your hand luggage and sacrificing that all important Nivea moisturiser which can’t possibly be purchased in any other country. In fact, there’s nothing worse than arriving at the airport only to be told you’re overweight and need to drop a couple of pounds.

It’s something we all struggle with. The elation of travelling is soon hindered by the challenge of compressing all essentials and luxuries into a small portable box; ready to be lugged around a foreign land for a couple of weeks. We know it’s a tedious task but learn to pack right and your holidays will never be impaired by the prospect of packing again.

The trick we’ve found will not only save you money, but a whole lot of difficulty hauling a heavy suitcase around; only take hand luggage.

You’d be surprised how much you can fit into those little roll ons; honestly, we lived out of one for three months. Taking only hand luggage means you won’t have to pay those infuriating baggage charges which aren’t included in the price of your flight ticket. Fifty pounds saved is always an advantage. These days most airlines allow you to take both a roll on and a handbag which allows you to take more but always check first.

When it comes to packing your bag, don’t pack what you might need because chances are you won’t. Think about what you will actually wear and what you’d want to carry around with you because you although might not think it, you’ll spend a lot of time with your suitcase.

Whether you’re going on a short break, or travelling around the globe; be rational. Do you really need a months worth of clothes for a city escape? Pick judiciously. A few items which will all work well together rather than a mismatch of pieces you’ll only take out once.

Wear your heaviest clothes there. Don’t go as far as putting on 20 layers to save on suitcase space but make prudent choices. Wear bulky shoes on the flight instead of small sandals.

Don’t forget you can buy things there; unless you’re travelling to the middle of the arctic. Take the minimum amount of toiletries and buy the rest later, this means you don’t have to worry about taking liquids in your hand luggage and allows more room for fundamental items.

Remember what you’re there for; to explore, discover and wander freely. Don’t be held back by excess baggage; nobody wants that. Question everything you pack; new or old and be sure you feel comfortable in it. In this case, less certainly is more and never be afraid to wear the same thing twice.

- Words by Philippa Cheesman

ULD WO

YOU

B

ES

73 // Sunday Girl

FEATURE

O

TO D AS KIN

D? HAN EA GIVE M

Boys make passes at Girls who wear Glasses Model: Juliet Pinder - Stylist: Charlotte Moss - Photographer: Andre Titcombe - Hair and makeup: Lou Stefani

Marcus Lupfer £175

R+D Las Vegas, £52

Net-a-porter £395

Jules B, Le Specs £39.99

Rayban, £113

Jules B, Le Specs £39.99

Quay Australia, £30

Watercolour illustrations by Lorna McIntyre @lorna_illustrates

Miu Miu £171

75 // Sunday Girl

FASHION

We’re All Going on a Summer Holiday Girl’s tips on how to survive your first family-free holiday Whether you choose to visit the golden beaches of Greece with pals, or to backpack your lonesome way around Asia, your first holiday without your family will always be a memorable one. Though these trips are considered a “rite of passage” by many, there is more to these independent adventures than tabloid newspapers would have you believe.

Travelling with your friends or by yourself can be a mixed experience, fuelled by newfound responsibilities and homesickness. However, just because you may be a little bit out of your comfort zone, that doesn’t mean that you can’t make the most of this taste of freedom. We asked teenage girls to share what they learned from their first independent travels and provide advice to others wishing to make similar journeys.

Madeline, 18 “I travelled around Europe myself this summer, without any friends or family, and I found the experience extremely liberating! I became so much more self-assured in my ability to speak other languages and to ultimately thrive on my own. I had never fully appreciated how straight forward it is to immerse yourself in a foreign culture and that opportunities like this are only a short plane ride away from Britain. When you travel alone, you obviously have to be aware of certain dangers and risks, but as long as you remain cautious and sensible, this should not stop you having a great holiday.”

Ellie, 18 “The first word that springs to mind when I think of a holiday alone is freedom! And while your first holiday abroad without your parents is liberating and exciting, it can be daunting! There is no one to check where you are or what you’re doing - you have complete free reign to make your own decisions. Of course, it’s completely natural to have some feelings of anxiety which always come with the extra responsibility of being completely self-reliant but these feelings will be rapidly overshadowed by the thrill of experiencing a new culture. With so many new places to explore, sights to see and food to taste, your first holiday alone will be one you never forget.”

Nicole, 18 “Important lesson: holidays with your friends WILL test your friendships! You are not going to get on with everyone all of the time, no matter how much you aim to please them. The best thing to do is have a little bit of alone time, rationalise the situation and even apologise if you have to. Being the bigger person and compromising is better than letting a trivial argument ruin your trip.”

Alice, 17 “As much as I want to deny it, my first holiday without my parents taught me that my mother is right about everything! Think you don’t need sunscreen that day? You are probably wrong. Are you better to get up earlier so that you can make the most of the morning? Definitely. It may be easy to get swept up in this newfound freedom but that does not mean that you can just cast aside all caution. Pack for a variety of climates, plan a rough itinerary but most importantly, remember to enjoy yourself.”

- Words by Jessica Simpson

GIRLS WILL BE GIRLS

PHOTOGRAPHY - ABIGAIL DENNISON ST Y L I ST - M O L LY B R I D G E R MUA - CRISTINA SEGOVIA MODEL - JESSIE PINK WARDROBE - ALL ASOS & THE WHITE PEPPER

79 // Sunday Girl

FASHION

Wanderlusting FILMS THAT MAKE YOU WANT TO PACK A BAG AND GO

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Jane Greer & Lizabeth Scott in ‘The Company She Keeps’ (1951)

- Almost Famous -

85 // Sunday Girl

FEATURE

If you’ve ever harboured suspicions that you were perhaps born a few decades too late, and/or fantasies of some second, bohemian existence spent in sheepskin, crocheted crop tops and flared denim, you will watch this film with a dull ache in your soul that you arrived late to the party and missed the whole damn thing. Set in the year 1974, teenager William Miller scores a shot at writing for Rolling Stone Magazine, going on the road with fast-rising but turbulent rock band Stillwaters.

Kept company on the road by a merry gang of groupies - sorry, ‘Band Aids’ - William is somewhat supervised by mysterious ringleader Penny Lane (the almost sickeningly charming Kate Hudson, for which she was Oscar nominated), as the characters spill through a multitude of dark arena stages and anonymous hotel rooms, accompanied by the sounds of ethereal 70’s rock n roll.

“Listen to Tommy with a candle burning and you will see your entire future.” 

- Little Miss Sunshine Another cinematic ballad to that age old idea of getting stupidly lost to find yourself, or in this case your extended family, the film opens in the strange, still suburbs of middle America but is set against the vaguely grotesque world of baby beauty pageantry. Ugly duckling darling Olive is chosen to compete in the Little Miss Sunshine contest, taking place in - where else - a soulless hotel space on the Californian coast. So out of financial necessity rather than any actual desire to spend time together, the starlet’s sad, often neurotic family of misfits pile in to a uncooperative yellow VW camper van and hit the highway. From Albuquerque to Redondo Beach, with many misadventures and near breakdowns, of both the mental and mechanical verity along the way, barriers collapse under the strain of several hundred - reluctantly intimate - miles, finding an almost uncomfortably close beauty in the fragmented family and their pesky human dysfunction. Sunshine is perhaps not your average feel-good flick: death, substance abuse, bankruptcy and a suicide attempt don't usually present a bundle of lol’s (not to mention seeing 7 year olds being spray tanned; somewhat distressing imagery in itself), but such is the prowess of the on-screen performances and dialogue, you will more than likely leave the viewing feeling warm and fuzzy, perhaps even with a new enthusiasm for the Volkswagen brand and chocolate ice-cream for breakfast.

‘Oh my God, I'm getting pulled over. Everyone, just... pretend to be normal.’

- The Drajeeling Limited Wes Anderson’s love letter to India, transportation and a primary colour palate, this film follows brother’s Francis, Peter & Jack as they to navigate across desert, temple and mountain scapes, all in the name of that concept so relentlessly popular in the west, ’spiritual self discovery’. Meticulous symmetry, dead pan dialogue and a vaguely retro aesthetic make for a stylistically typical Anderson production, but take note of his slow-burning, tender approach to the fractured relationships between the siblings, as it generally goes, however touching, under appreciated- perhaps overlooked in favour of some really excellent luggage. Managing to capture the strange, frenzied heat of India and its practices presents a demanding task for any director, but set to a timelessly lovely soundtrack featuring The Kinks and some early Stones for good measure (the lyrics of This Time Tomorrow alone are sometimes enough to encourage some rash one-way ticket booking), the countries colour and fever have never looked more beautifully abstract. Committed connoisseurs may wish to also watch Hotel Chevalier, a Wes-directed 13 minute short, shot in a Paris hotel room, centring around Jason Sschwartzman’s character Jack and his ex-lover played by Natalie Portman (who travelled to India to shoot a scene that lasts approx. 5 seconds in Darjeeling before embarking on 10 days of her own adventures. Go Portman.)

“I want us to be completely open and say yes to everything even if it’s shocking and painful. Can we agree to that?”

Words by Lucy Milligan

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VOLUME TWO