célestine x earworm: flower crown diy

Is it a bit cliché for a blogger to meet another one to make flower crowns? Well if it is, I truly don't care because I spent the loveliest of afternoons last week with the beautiful célestine (go check her blog, it's enchanting like a baby unicorn on top of a creamy cupcake) in her lust-worthy flat, chatting and crafting floral headpieces.

We bought fake flowers, a thick green wire and a very thin one.

With the thicker one, we shaped the base of the crown on our heads and tied to it the intertwined stems of the flowers and leaves with the thin wire. Alternatively, you could use a headband and glue.

We didn't have any at the time, but I think a nice addition would be a ribbon, to hide all the little wires sticking out.

 the fake flowers before the chopping + a summer drink my hostess made with grenadine, redcurrant and blueberries - yum!

then it was time to start, célestine went for the 'light' version...

... while I went a bit OTT - hi!

I couldn't make a post about flower crowns without mentioning the charismatic Tavi Gevinson and her Rookie magazine that are now almost synonyms with the infamous head ornament. But not only. I am part of the creepy old fellow club who read the webzine aimed at teenagers. I would have loved to have something like that when I was going through those 'shaping' years. A worldwide community of young people who share the same interests and support one another. Though, it does feel strange to me that those teenagers are basing their dreamscape on an ideal version of the nineties, looking back to the very same decade that I was trying myself to get away from when I was a teen! But I like seeing those years through their eyes, it is refreshing. I stumbled upon this article about my demographic (twenty-something - hello euphemism) reading Rookie and the reasons behind. I totally recognize myself in this extract:

So is Rookie for us? An early review in the New Republic sniped that women like me see the magazine as a “representation of the values and aesthetic of their formative years,” that we’re using Gevinson as a “last chance to grasp at youth.” But my pal’s love of Rookie doesn't feel like nostalgia so much as it does regret. Outlets like Rookie give us a chance to relive our teen years, not because we loved them, but because we hated them.