Saturday, 28 December 2013

Happy Anniversary Baby!

For the last year I have been engaged in the most perfect relationship I have ever experienced. Yes this is about my homosexual love affair with a cardboard cutout. Last Christmas I was introduced to Kristen, my dream woman. Im no psychologist and I cant tell you the main things that contribute to a healthy, happy relationship. But I can assure you, whatever they are, we have them in the bucket load. As soon as we saw each other we had an unspoken agreement, the first time we met we were up all night talking until the early hours- i just babbled on and on while she listened the whole time. I had that nervous excitement in the pit of my stomach as I felt her eyes follow me around the room.

With K there is a Mutual respect, I understand her goals and value them even though they may be a little different from mine. After her last big job she's not exactly motivated to do much, she's at a bit of a stand still in her life but as long as she is happy with that then so am i (and thats what matters). Kristen likes to keep a stiff upper lip and at first this was a problem- I thought it might have something to do with me. But no, she is just very reserved. Doesn't like to be seen as vulnerable so holds a great poker face when discussing difficult issues. The media don't help, portraying her to be hard-edged and emotionally unavailable, but she is just guarded. I bet you're thinking that with some one like that our love life must take a bit of a hit, but let me put it to you this way- Youll always find her in the bedroom ;)

Hey im not saying its all a bed of roses, obviously we fight, I get it- before me she used to make a lot of money, what with being a big blockbuster star, and she sure likes to remind me about it, always wearing that bloody Oscars gown around the house. Its a bit over the top right? Just because at the moment I'm the one going out working my ass off while she stands around at home. But y'no, we talk it over, although the conversation may always be a bit one sided, we work it out. And I know whatever happens she will always stand by me. She is my rock, my unshakable pillar of everlasting love and support.

Thank God I'm making wedding dresses at the moment, because at this rate we'll be needing two.

the first time we met

Seeing me off for work

Before we went to dinner one night

Her clowning around-classic K.

Wednesday, 18 December 2013

Top o' da Mornin' to ya

Guess what? My blooming ugly mug is gonna be on the box! That’s right, I’m going on telly, Irish telly-but hey, Ireland is the next Milan in the fashion world don’t you know? Semi-nervous about the liability that is my mouth. It’s been said before- I curse like a sailor and have the mind of a dirty old man. So me going on telly-LIVE telly is perhaps something I need to prep for. I’m going on a show called Ireland AM. Apparently its like our ‘This Morning’. But I can tell you now if the host has a rack anything like Willoughby then its not my mouth but my wondering eyes that are going to be the issue (I’m straight. Honest).

Anyway so I have to fly to Dublin, be on the show and chat about this wedding collection I’m doing, then be in a big wedding show event. It’s all very exciting and surely I can now claim Dumpster is an international company (cough). However having to act professional for an extended period of time could be amusing to watch, especially as I got in a fit of giggles yesterday when trying to book a hotel because the bloke on the phone sounded like the leprechauns in the movies. Although that could also have something to do with the constant state of stress and panic I am in at the moment.  Having to make one wedding dress in three weeks is enough to turn someone loopy, let alone four. I’ve done nothing but stare at different types of white material every hour of every day. I swear to God if it snows I might have to be hospitalised. 

So for now it’s a ‘watch this space’. Four dresses, four different materials, and four very, very short weeks. Lets hope I find myself a Colin Farrell and it will all be worth it.

(these are the ache in my metaphorical ball)

Tuesday, 12 November 2013

Yes Man

So I'm doing this thing where I say yes- to anything. It got to the point where i was so stressed and/or tired that others around me were shocked if they saw me wearing clothes and makeup. So got myself together and became the yes man. Which means i've had an interesting week to say the least.

Monday I was rock climbing. I ended up with forearms bigger than a 14 year old boy with a limited 24 hour access pass to the internet. That along with a healthy bit of toe cramp and i called it a night.

Tuesday I was doing 'abtastic'. Inflicted by a persistent trainer at the gym, i was left with a red face and an inability to laugh without severe pain in my abdominal region. 

Wednesday was badminton. Sweating it out with no understanding of the rules and a new found appreciation for Badminton nerds. The courts may have well been lined with world of war craft and jigsaw puzzles. i fit right in as my eye sight let me down and i had to play in specs.

Thursday I was in London getting out trendied by the best of the trendies. I was meeting with a fashion editor to talk about Dumpsters next steps. She also mentioned i look different as i was wearing makeup unlike the last time i saw her haha -great.

And Friday, well Friday I ended up with my legs in a pair of stirrups getting more intimate with two lovely ladies than i have with anyone in a long time, let alone on a friday morning. But hey, nothing says sociable like having a great rapport with Helen the gynaecologist. 

Sunday Dumpster was two years old. Yes, My baby's growing up. My mum baked a cake to celebrate, it looked like bread and no one would touch it. Ive achieved a lot in two years but trusting my mums baking isn't one of them.

And Monday well, Monday I got introduced to Yo! Sushi and ended up like Yo! Michelin man. It was either sushi or the luke warm bath i took after eating sushi...either way my legs swelled up like a dream. i looked like that woman on the incredibles- the ones whose an inflatable RIB with a head.

Tomorrow I'm playing ready steady cook and getting a spray tan. This saying yes mantra has resulted in two things: a tired Daisy. And an empty wallet. 

Don't try new things kids. 

Monday, 28 October 2013

Radical Designer Awards

Blooming bloody heck, I only gone and won the darn awards! I have now been officially crowned Radical Designer of the year by the UK Fashion Design Council. Not bad ay? As always the event was a right palaver, but the difference is this time I had my bestest ever model with me who made the right palaver a jolly good time.

Up at the crack of dawn loading dresses in to a van as usual, but got some crafty boxes and the whole process became a lot easier, although it did look like I was transporting 7 delightfully packaged dead bodies. Convoyed up to London with the Dumpster crew and the madness began. While I unpacked and took over 80% more space that I should have been in the mess room, my models went straight in to training with ‘Professor Catwalk’ (no, im not kidding). He was a character to say the least, but you don’t get to be three times award winning and on Britain’s Next Top Model without eating, breathing and oozing sass. And my oh my, Professor Catwalk had sass by the bucket load. Personal favourite was him yelling at a girl down the catwalk ‘Umm Miss? Miss? Are you awake Miss? Because you’re boring me’. These poor girls, some of which were only 16 were being drilled at 9 in the morning by an American Sass Storm Trooper. But when it comes down to it ‘you got to walk the runway, like the rent needs to be paid’, Such wise words.

After I got my models back, sufficiently shaken, we got down and dirty with hair and make up. It soon became apparent that everyone was taking this very, very seriously. We did it all ourselves- bit of makeup from Superdrug and a hairband. Where as everyone else had hired agency models, makeup artists, hair stylists…There were designers running around, freaking out because their forth garment wasn’t hanging quite right on the left shoulder of a girl. Someone asked me for some black thread, me?! I laughed and said “Sorry mate, not my thing. I can give you PVA glue though?” ive never seen a face of such utter shock before, I think they thought I was trying to sabotage their collection or something, when really I just cant sew.

 Being in one room with all the other designers freaked me out for sure, their stuff was so good. These people were old, they were experienced and golly gosh they knew their way around a pattern block. Then there was little old me who dropped out of fashion school because ‘I didn’t like sewing’. Yep... what the heck was I doing there right. Probably should have been tweaking my collection rather than doing stupid stuff like taking panorama shots and trying to run round in time to be in it twice (bossed it.). 

Anyway I put that out my mind and did the bestest I could, I presented to a panel of 6 judges with my models behind me in the dresses. Gave them the old DHB charm offensive and knocked them dead with my media pack and mood board. The face of the model wearing the lust dress as I explained to the judges that she was wearing a hella load a fanny was priceless, She clearly had no idea until then (she started playing spot the butthole as soon as she came out the room though). It all went swell and they seemed interested in what I had to say. Then it was just the waiting game until the catwalk show and announcement of the winner. When we were all back stage I was briefing my models on how to walk, I suggested possibly the crab walk to be followed by the worm. The other designers were staring at me like ‘is this girl high? Why is she saying these things’. But they seemed to loosen up after I tried to twerk up against one of them, clearly posing no threat as a designer.

It was pretty awkward as me and my one model also bestfriend (had to pick one to walk the catwalk with on the off chance I did win) were standing right in the entrance to the stage. We were both looking at each other like “ah this is going to be awkward when we have to try and shuffle out of the winners way”. But then bish bash bosh, it was me! The first thing I heard was “FUCK OFFF!” from my bestfriend herself (good to know people had faith in me). Im kidding, I was just as shocked. Then i did my suave little strut down the catwalk, fist pumped the air with my trophy. I was pretty much Sylvester Stallone in Rocky. As soon as I got backstage my award was grabbed from me, I was like ‘oh guess I don’t get that then huh’, but they just wanted to engrave my name in it. Cuties.

And that’s that, I was in bed by half ten.

I want to say an official thank you to my models, most were all friends of friends and did me a solid by helping out (not that they didn’t get a lot out of it- professional training from professor catwalk? Hello?!)

Anyway, Dumpster Design is New York bound, so see you there suckas!

Saturday, 12 October 2013

Better left off the CV

On Friday i some how found myself at a fashion seminar on the 'panel of experts' with the CEO of the British Fashion Council. During the Q&A session there were a few questions asked about A levels and Degrees from the pupils in the audience. As i'm an honest bean i said the truth- im a uni drop out and a degree in my case was a waste of time. This was met with the headmasters head in his hands and a cough to break the awkward silence. I soon realised there are some things better left off my CV...

-Im a uni drop out.

-Whenever i see a child and cant immediately identify its parent or guardian i run through a list of ways i can steal it.

-I sometimes don't change my bed sheets for months on end.

-I secretly take pictures of boys in the gym.

-I still suck my thumb.

-It baffels me how blind people walk with those sticks.

-I slept on my brothers floor until i was 16 because i was (and still am) scared of ghosts.

-I struggle to spell words with more than five characters.

-My three favourite topics of conversation are poo, periods and sex.

-80% of me is convinced i will marry Joseph Gorden Levitt.

-I play a game with myself where i stand really close to strangers and see how long it takes for them to get creeped out and back away.

-I thought Louis Vuitton and Christian Louboutin were the same brand/person until last week.

-When i recite the alphabet i put in two N's. One in its rightful place and then an extra after the U.

-I dont know where Germany is (and any country other than England and France for that matter).

-If i get sticky, instead of washing my hands i'll wipe them on my trousers.

These are just a few off the top of my head. I think its safe to say don't trust me with your children, and/or any large tasks involving basic sense. Im killer at making dresses out of paper though- look my first shop window... how bon. 

Sunday, 29 September 2013


Before i get started...

Once again, starting this by saying I dropped off the map for a substantial period of time. But what a surprise its because I was busy working. And this time it was Dior who swallowed me up, the cheeky thang yo.

Last Friday got a call from my correspondent at Dior (who by the way is super awesome) and said a couple managers have been asking and they want the dress. Easy right? Just glue a few perfume cards to a bit of paper and make it look pretty, yeh not so much. Especially when you're a sticky person like me, not getting peanut butter on the white Dior dress was the first challenge (which i failed within 2 hours of making). 

I’d like to take this opportunity to give a public apology to anyone who has encountered me in the last week. I’ve been an insane, crazed version of myself. My flatmate has come home to me rocking in the fetal position on the floor, crying on the sofa, running around the flat hysterically laughing when the pressure got a little to much, oh and asleep sitting up with my head in a basket of fruit. I think its safe to say the stress got on top of me a tad. I had to set my alarm at 6hr intervals throughout the first three days to wake up in the middle of the night to do another layer of papermache. I can tell you now, no one, NO ONE should be papemacheing at 4am. I commandeered the lounge space meaning for the last 7 days we have been watching 1/8th of the telly while the monster dress just stood there like ‘Yeh what. Try move me. I dare you’.

Anyway I managed to churn it out, looked beaut as well, freakin’ massive, but beaut. But then came the problem of having to photograph the dress, because It was such short time scales I didn’t have a chance to book a studio shoot, oh and the fact the dress didn’t fit through the door, did I mention that added issue? So I roped in all my favours, got a photographer round, who for the record- corr mother may i. Had one flatmate in the dress (perfume cards digging into places I don’t think she even knew existed) and then the other flatmate running around holding various bits of the dress and giving style advice, this involved a lot of “You’re a tiger! Smise, Smise with those eyes! You’re a goddess, Give me more!”. While I did really helpful things like twerk up against the dress (not kidding when I say I lost my marbles, they might as well have been on another planet).

But I did it, we did it I should probably say. Dress delivery was a whole other palaver in itself, England was doin its thang and raining like a mumma. Anyway with some bin bags and a strong man we managed to get it to Dior. I placed it lovingly in the window (my first shop window, holllla) and then put my dumpster promo around it so everyone knows its my super great company who did it. Then realised I spelt my own website wrong on one of the signs, nice one Daisy, you fuck whit. No one is going to get anywhere searching ‘Dupster’.

My slow demise is listed below in pictures. Hey I can be a normal person again now though, my boyfriend bought me pickled onions as a well done. True love?

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Girl tie them Vans!

So for once this isn’t about work, Yes Dumpster is on full take off at the moment, being asked to design and create a dress to head Liverpool Fashion Week, in the middle of model castings and got features and press releases coming out our eye balls. However, I’ve got much more important things to talk about- Laces.

Girl, tie them Vans! One thing that really grinds my gears is when people don’t tie they’re freaking shoes up and instead tuck them in the sides or behind the tongue flap. Worst offenders- vans and converse. Look love, if you were using them for the purpose in which they were created- skating and basketball, you would definitely tie them up, otherwise you would be spread on the concrete like marmite on toast. Stop thinking you’re cute and quirky but tucking them in. I get it, sometimes laces can be tricky, you've got to loop, swoop and pull, or something to do with a bunny, a tree and a hole. Either learn or get velcro shoes. i sometimes even double tie, around my ankle then double knot at the front, yeh you 'erd. 

People need to know that this does not in anyway improve your image. Don’t come crying to me when you’ve got one dangling out whilst the other is wedged under your foot in the most uncomfortable way.

To everyone guilty of the above- Im gonna step on your laces while standing in a queue. Tit. 

Monday, 26 August 2013


I apologise in advance if this post is somewhat incoherent or dis-jointed. Im feeling very fragile right now due to seeing what must be over 200 fannies in the last 48 hours. As a 22 year old, straight, female, i have seen more fanny than any teenage boy discovering the joys of puberty. And I am not over exaggerating here, I shut my eyes and there is Floo burned into my retinas. I see it when I go to sleep at night. You know that song ‘stuck in the middle with you’, well i'm stuck in the middle with fanny. Fanny to the left of me, fanny to the right. And this isn’t the pretty stuff, this is photo shop free, double page fanny spreads (just had chocolate spread instantly cross my mind, I wish it was that kind of spread).

Anyway, you’re probably thinking ‘Why Daisy? Why are you looking at so much fanny?’ Well I have been creating the ‘LUST' dress for the seven sins collection. And the lovely people over at Paul Raymond (one of the worlds largest adult entertainment companies) were kind enough to collaborate with Dumpster Design on this one. So whilst sat in the office working on Monday morning I get a big old box of porn arrive on my desk. My, my I have never been so happy to receive smutty magazines before! (although that makes it sound like a regular occurrence, which its not). 

The making of the dress was relatively simple, it just took a strong stomach and some tactical folding to make sure there wasn’t full on ‘granny fanny’ on the front, or to try and cleverly disguise boobs within the pleats of the bodice. To add insult to injury I had a girl doing work experience with me those two days, while also being filmed for a Dumpster Pro Mo video. I had to make a judgment call on whether or not I should be showing a 17 year old XXX rated porn mags. I almost definitely made the wrong call as I had her folding fanny within the hour.

Anyway-the end result is pretty bang (lol pun jk) tidy. See for yourselves… last post I had spot the stain, this time I have spot the nipple. Ohhh Dumpster, what have I done to you. Also not entirely sure my friends appreciated the rancid snapchats sent over that 48 period. But its over now guys, ive been left a shell of a woman, numbed to all things explicit. 

Saturday, 17 August 2013

Neck beard

Once again im going to start a post by saying ‘lots of exciting things going on with Dumpster’ yeh its boring but its true. So deal, iiiiite. 

However first things first, for those who have been keeping up with the harrowing ordeal of growing out my hair… we’ve had progress; Ive gone from 8 yr old boy, to coconut, to lego man and I am now please to say… I can pretty much tie it up without a neck beard. So yeh, that’s the main achievement of this week.

But also Dumpster Design is now a ‘we’. I have a new head of PR and suddenly im having to answer to someone. I get in trouble if I don’t reply to a client, I get told off if I don’t write down contact details. I have to have my tweets approved? This is all very new and I feel like I have to be on my best behaviour. Make dresses and be quite Daisy. Stop cursing and being rude Daisy. Tone down that questionable sense of humour Daisy.

Either way its super great, and feels good to have someone else battling in my corner. I like that its now shall we do this fashion show, shall we chose this photographer. If I screw up it can be our  fault (lol jk kidding, id blame it all on her). Oh and the seven deadly sins collection for the Radical Design Awards is going well, my porn is due to arrive on Monday and my chocolate headaches have got so bad I had to stop buying Cadburys but other than that, progress is off the charts.

Next week I am in my studio everyday as I have some hot young thang (talent wise) doing work experience with me. Going to bosh out the last few dresses while watching films and/or listening to Britney Spears, and if my minion doesn’t like it they can leave.