Beverly Ealdama.

Clean.

As highly impractical as it is, especially with my apparent embarrassing incapability of keeping my clothes pasta sauce-free, I can't help but lust after the endless clean and crisp whiteness of everything filling the magazines and blogs at the moment. Although, with the milky-pale complexion of my Scottish ancestors I don't think I'll be rocking the head-to-toe look any time soon; with the strange reflective qualities of my skin kind of making me glow in the sunlight I already look like something out of Twilight. Just as well, I don't think I'd be able to give up spaghetti bolognese.