Shopping Centres

If god created purgatory it is to be found here on earth in the form of; the shopping centre. A place that’s not quite heaven and not quite hell, but once you're in it, there’s no escape, or it’s just a waiting game until someone plucks you out. Shopping centres have become so large these days they are like cities within themselves, you could literally live in them and sometimes I feel like giving up and doing just that when I can’t find the exit. It’s probably a marketing trick; make the layout of the place so complex that people will be forced to spend hours in there until they find a way out. Like is it really necessary not to put the up and down escalator together for example? Once you think you’ve found the glory hole that will take you down a level you approach it only to find it’s a one way street, the only way in this place is up until you get to the roof and decide to jump off after losing the will to live. It’s a jungle in there seriously. With its own tribes people too. Gatherings of teenagers walk together like hunters in the Amazon, vying each other up to see who’s crew is hotter, who has the newest and shiniest brands and they laugh extraordinarily loudly. Then there’s the pram pushers who think it’s a fine day to take baby out amongst the hoards and chaos (yes, babies love new clothes). The air conditioning allows you to breathe but just not quite enough to feel like you’re receiving the right amount of oxygen. You begin to feel light headed which eventually leads to believing a new pair of light up Reeboks is essential. Your growing thirst can only be refreshed by a nuclear reactive bubble tea served to you by a girl with fingernails long enough to be second arms. They ought to put warning signs on the entrance; Enter at Own Risk of Teenagers, too Few Bathrooms, Babies and Bubble Tea. Utterly. Terrifying.


The fatal flower is the perverted shy girl, the one you wouldn’t suspect. Under a soft exterior lies a complex being with an unyielding wildness, anchored to the earth by her humble nature and inexplicable dry humour. She is the femme of now, the modern woman who’s thoughts transcend through cultures and time.

Over the coming months let ‘La Fleur Fatale’ be your guide to the hidden insights and stories of a watchful woman’s eye navigating through the ‘European’ way of life. Struggles and mishaps ensue as life is embraced and the thorny introvert femme clammers for life’s answers. All possible subjects are covered from death to Kim Kardashian and from sisterhood to the perfect strawberry frappe.

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