Secret Garden Party sadness...♥♥♥

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▲The Outfit▲

fit I COULD OF WORN :O

So, lately, I have been seriously lusting over going away.
Anywhere. Just away, favourably somewhere hot, with scorching white sands and turquoise seas. I tell my mate Leila this, but, being someone who is very happy in her hometown 24/7, she advised me to see the school nurse. I am very lucky to be going on 3 breaks this year...
1. To Devon for a few days to see family friends. The annual visits usually involve their two boys surfing the icy English waves in wetsuits and me and my sister shivering in our tankinis.

2. A school trip to somewhere in France, to visit a snail farm, a aqaurium, a water park and a traditional bakery to make pain au chocolats. Yayyy.

3. SPAIN!!! YES!!! Three days in Barcelona, then a week in some seaside place! CAN'T WAIT!!!

But what I really want is a FESTIVAL to go to. I used to go to Womad every year, as my papa has a hippy clohing shop and had a stall there. Six years old, I wore some battered fairy wings, glitter on my cheeks, and jelly shoes. Then, I was DA BIZ. Now, I'm not so sure. Fairy wings...sure! But jelly shoes on my growing size sevens? I don't think so!

What I REALLY wanted to go to was The Secret Garden Party. Its free, I inisted to my parents. Its cool and cute and everyone is talking about it! I twisted a quote from a magazine. So my mum looked on the website. Visions of printed skirts, Hunter wellies, neon face paint and Indian bangles clouded my brain. BUT ALAS!!!


The tickets are run out.