Bridget, Beyonce and my Carbootilicious

It was somewhere between the booty shake and and the squad grind. That moment when I'd quietly been Beyonce'd. 

I went to Queen Bey's opening show of her Formation tour by accident. I was visiting a friend up in Newcastle and she'd happened upon a couple of tickets. We figured it was as good a place as any for our overdue catch up and went along to see what all the fuss was about. 

It was about this.

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See, you probably knew it already, but I had somehow missed the memo. You do not fuck with Beyonce. I like that about her. More, actually, than I like her music.

Bey is Queen of the dance moves, Queen of the butt cheeks, Queen of the good hair (Far better than Becky's, I don't know what she's worrying about). But most of all she is Queen of the No Fucks. She's worked hard and followed her dream and 'aint nobody getting in her way. For me - more of a Bridget Jones than a Beyonce - this was the message I took home. 

Time to shake my bootique

So it's with this high kicking attitude that I'm launching a new element to the blog over the coming weeks. There will soon be a retail page on this site, where you can buy My Actual House Candy.

The booty on here will be re-loved treasures, all cleaned up and beautifully wrapped and tagged. So it's kind of like me doing a very posh car boot without having to get up at the crack of dawn in February... Hold up, if I call it a Car-Bootilicious will I get sued?

Here's a sample of the kind of House Candy on offer. 

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I look forward to telling you more about it very soon (once I've checked out the copyright). In the meantime, I've got an extra set of squats to do and you are NOT getting in my way. Got that Jones?

Claire x