I am determined NOT to lose my knickers.

Hello Lovelies!

So, I have travelled to Nicaragua ( henceforth known as Knickeragua) where I will spend the next few weeks/months before travelling around Central America. So far, so beautiful. I'm staying in a gorgeous spot on the southwest coast called Popoyo. Known for it's wonderful weather and fantastic surfing it's still off the beaten track enough to not have to deal with heaps of tourists/McDonalds etc.

And so, given that I'm here I thought I'd give this surfing lark a go. Now, I have actually surfed before. But that was in Cornwall and you have to wear a wetsuit so your swimsuit can go nowhere. Here, however, I am fast discovering which suits can survive a wipe out and which really really can't. So far, so naked. The trick, my roommate tells me, is to "tie the shit out of 'em". Which is exactly what you have to do. But then I get a muffin top! Wah. Those days when you just can't win. So, I tie them up, and then loosen them when I emerge from the water, Bond girl like, I'm sure.

If any surfer girls out there have any tips on how to retain your dignity out on the water, I'd really appreciate it. The hostel I'm working in looks directly over the breaks I've been surfing. And they're fully equipped with binoculars.

Ninja, xx

Intimiss-ing something?

As I mentioned a few weeks ago I went to Italy for a week for my friends wedding. It was an absolutely wonderful week, like actually. I have been to two fantastic weddings this summer and I swear I'm never going to be able to get married: my wedding could hope to ever match theirs!

Anyway, as any lingerie junkie knows it is almost impossible to walk past a lingerie store without being pulled in like a magnet to a fridge door. So, the windows of lace and lust of Intimissimi called to me. And in I went. A particularly gorgeous white lace long line bra caught my eye. Reasonably priced at £28 I hunted for my size. Only numbers stared back at me from the labels. What on earth? Size 1? What is that? After much probing and a few terrible Italian vs. terrible English question and answers with a staff member I worked out that their sizing goes from 1 to 4. A size 1 'equates' to a 32A/B, a 2 a 34 A/B and so. So understandably when I asked for a 30F she looked at me like I'd asked her to take all her clothes off and do the Macarena.

She laughed, sort of, and said that some of their styles went, incredulously, up to a D cup. Wow. So that wiped out have the store. No new pretty Italian lingerie for me. But wait! Round the corner I found thier gorgeous collection of sleepwear. A consolation prize, sure, but a terribly pretty one nonetheless. So I went in for the pretty white lace long line bra, and I came out without it. But I did buy a grey marl jumper with PEARLS on and a cute pair of PJ shorts with lace peeking out the bottom. Cute.

Intimissimi isn't the only Italian brand with screwed up sizing. La Perla, the gold standard, is similarly bonkers. Although is has improved, the cups are almost always too sharp in the wire (too sharp a curve), and the elastic round the back tends to gives very quickly. But they're beautiful, and despite their faults the still make the ultimate boudoir bras.

Ninja, xx

Ariba aRIBA! Go Maggie's Go!

So, a few months or so ago now, I visited the Maggie Centre at Gartnavel to discuss post mastectomy bras and other underwear concerns breast cancer patients have. The meeting actually occured because a member of their press team found my first blogpost: the power of blogging! Anyway, I read yesterday that the centre had won a RIBA award. I can completely understand. Now, in terms of architectural knowledge, I am limited at best. But the Maggie Centre at Gartnavel is the most appropriate building I have ever been in.

'Appropriate', makes it sound boring and lack-lustre, which it most definitely isn't. So I'm going to explain. The Maggie Centre is a place where patients can go after or before treatment, or just because they need to get out of their own house. There are classes, on everything from scarf tying to cooking, talks and evening activities. There is no reception, or front desk; you enter and find yourself in the kitchen, like you would in a home, The kitchen has a huge table which could easily (and I'm sure on many occasions does) sit 12 and every tea you could dream of.

The building is set out as one big space that can be divided into smaller rooms where necessary. So if you want to go in and talk to a group of people about your treatment, you can. If you want to have a one-to-one with one of the centre staff, you can. The middle houses a sunny courtyard and the whole building just basks in natural light. It's a place to feel calm, to feel hope. I felt so comfortable here, so welcomed.

So yes, the building is perfectly appropriate, but it is so much more than that, too.

It deserves this award, more than I could ever convey.

Ninja, xx