I have had this huge urge to stick Aaron's stupid head down a public toilet all day. I'm thinking New York's tabloids will be thanking me for the stacks of newspapers they'd sell if I brought myself to do exactly that.



--



These two weeks have been such a massive headache. Dear mother decided to cut short her screaming matches with Aaron to focus on organising the "Annual Delights Charity Ball". I think I preferred the angry, temperamental mum to a stressed one. Man is she scary when you walk into the room and she's looking for someone, anyone to yell at. I honestly tried to avoid her, but she seems to be cropping up everywhere, to the point where I thought I was hallucinating. So in conclusion, I seem to be the main target of her pent-up rage and stress. Unpleasant.

In addition to the rage I have to deal with, tedious chores have also been forced upon me. In the next week, I have to; call up the relatives (cringe), yell at the interior decor team to get their asses moving, organise the catering and quoting mother, 'pick out a half-decent outfit Lyna, I don't want you embarassing me'. Harsh yes, but what can I do? She's my mother, and scarier than a knife-wielding serial murderer.

Calling up the relos?
-Ringring-
Cousin Brittany: Stop bothering me Jack! It's like O-V-E-R!
Me: Uhm ... hello?
B: Like what the like hell?! Why do you like sound like a girl Jack?
Me: Uh hi Brittany, is your mum home?
B: No, what the like hell, you're like into my like mum now Jack?! THAT'S LIKE SO LIKE EW!
-Dial tone-
Me: ...

It really is difficult.

xlyna

Labels: Lee

Wow, I haven't written in a diary since like, fourth grade! Oh well, I guess I can find some time once in a while to write some crap in here, diary dear, you're my sole confidante now, so whoever is reading this and is NOT SIERRA CORDACE. fuck off kindly. Thankyou very much. mwa.

- - -

I don’t understand, really, I don’t. I’m going to be 18 soon, pretty much an adult really. I mean, those 18 year olds in Australia are counted as mature, fully grown human beings so why can't we be? Stupid America, get with the times already. This is the reason why my mother dearest just waved a big fat happy letter from Oxford stating that I have reassurance that my future is fully secured with their facilities. Freaking hell, she probably had some personal favors she could pull with the head of Oxford or some crazy shit like that. Knowing her, I wouldn’t put it past it. I can’t believe America let some crazy mental crackhead like my mother, the infamous Gemma Rose to look after an (almost) 18-year-old teenager. Just my luck. But why Oxford? Why some gloomy stick up their ass posh school like Oxford? This is crazy. Just because she’s got saggy boobs and her new boy toy husband seems to like me better. Serves her right for marrying a kid who can totally be her son. Wow, my own mom is a cougar. That’s just so disturbing. God.

I still can’t believe I’m going to Oxford when I graduate Woodley. Like, I’ll have to totally get a Rolls Royce now, instead of my beautiful customized ballet pink hummer. And I’ll have to start wearing those god-awful trench coats that Burberry makes, even if Emma Watson totally looks adorable in them. But that’s just so British. So not me. Not Sierra. Totally NOT. Anyways, that playboy Aaron Lee got his fat ass splashed all over the tabloid covers again. That guy needs to learn to get some sense, what was it again? Something about getting together with little miss can do no wrong Swifty and then doing her best friend Miley Cyrus behind her back? Haven’t seen those girls in so long, all of them stuck up in happy L.A doing their crazy Mickey Mouse shit. I'm a little bit jealous of them actually. At least their moms keep their fake noses outta their shit, why cant my mum do the same?

God, i just wanna HURT her so much right now. Pfft, well she can do her thing on me after I had my fun with her visa black. Hello Manolos, here I come.


xxSi.

Labels: Cordace

How should I start?
Hmmmm ... I suppose dear diary would suffice.

I find myself stuck in the smothering atmosphere of New York again. Sometimes I don't even know why I return ... I mean Aaron loves this godforsaken place and honestly I thought dear mummy and daddy would be happy with just him. Apparently I was very wrong. You can hear them shouting at him through the double brick of our way-too-large-for-its-own-good mansion. I could swear passers-by stand in front of our gate amusing themselves with the progress of these screaming matches. I for one am THOROUGHLY sick of mum's unnaturally ear-splitting resemblance of a shriek, which is why I escaped to Canada for a couple of snow-filled moments of bliss. Now that little vacation is over and it's back to routine. I'm even considering a soundproof door, not that mumsy would approve.

The only thing that dear little woman approves of are those fake little bitches of the upper class. "Lyna, you should learn to be more like them, respect your elders and stop running off to the ends of the world." It's clear to me that her generation of people don't seem to possess the ability to see through the superficial smiling masks of society's daughters.

If I hear the word 'Manolo' again, I'm going to SCREAM.

xlyna

Labels: Lee

There were once delicate china teacups, gilded boxes filled with shimmering jewels and elegant ladies in extravagant dresses held tight with the help of the dreaded corset. Polite small talk were exchanged, dainty glances were thrown across a crowded ballroom beneath smoky lashes and intricate calling cards coupled with a certain type of flower for each day of the week signified the interest of a certain male. Life was a whirlwind of constant high class gatherings and walks in the garden. Tea parties were in; secret smiles hidden behind the flutterings of a plumed fan and "taking a walk" in the garden was the only way any couple could have any real intimacy away from the prying eyes of society. There were certain sets of rules a young lady have to follow to ensure status. One cannot be outspoken, or god forbid do anything to garnish her family name. Revealed ankles were almost as unacceptable as public nudity and the man's word was law.

…

Excuse me, that was centuries ago.

I'm a sexy dominatrix bitch, and when i've got something to say, y' all better listen up.

Who needs puffy dresses unless you’re Taylor Swift in her Love Story MV? Hello, did someone say old fashioned, much? They may be awesome for like, a costume party but please. Think of all those layers the guy has to strip you out of before he actually gets to the good part! I mean, come on. Who'd still be wanting to do the dirty after all the hard work? And to think of all those marks the corset will make on your body. I heard ribs were crushed because of those evil things. shiver. Well, I'm certainly glad I'm not from the dark ages but I am getting a little off topic. Have I mentioned where we actually are?

The year is 2010, location: London? Check. New York? Uh-huh. Paris? J’adore, thank you very much. Milan? A destination must have. And Tokyo city, home to the legendary quirky Harajuku fashion, and home to the many crazy nightclubs that me and my manolos have trodden into. Life for the privileged and wealthy simply do not do garden parties anymore. The world's at our feet whenever we want it- private jets, limousines, luxury yachts. Baby you name it and we have it, and this is what I call the highlife.



Introducing you to a world you've probably all heard of, but let me take you for a ride.



inside it.

Labels: intro

I have had this huge urge to stick Aaron's stupid head down a public toilet all day. I'm thinking New York's tabloids will be thanking me for the stacks of newspapers they'd sell if I brought myself to do exactly that.



--



These two weeks have been such a massive headache. Dear mother decided to cut short her screaming matches with Aaron to focus on organising the "Annual Delights Charity Ball". I think I preferred the angry, temperamental mum to a stressed one. Man is she scary when you walk into the room and she's looking for someone, anyone to yell at. I honestly tried to avoid her, but she seems to be cropping up everywhere, to the point where I thought I was hallucinating. So in conclusion, I seem to be the main target of her pent-up rage and stress. Unpleasant.

In addition to the rage I have to deal with, tedious chores have also been forced upon me. In the next week, I have to; call up the relatives (cringe), yell at the interior decor team to get their asses moving, organise the catering and quoting mother, 'pick out a half-decent outfit Lyna, I don't want you embarassing me'. Harsh yes, but what can I do? She's my mother, and scarier than a knife-wielding serial murderer.

Calling up the relos?
-Ringring-
Cousin Brittany: Stop bothering me Jack! It's like O-V-E-R!
Me: Uhm ... hello?
B: Like what the like hell?! Why do you like sound like a girl Jack?
Me: Uh hi Brittany, is your mum home?
B: No, what the like hell, you're like into my like mum now Jack?! THAT'S LIKE SO LIKE EW!
-Dial tone-
Me: ...

It really is difficult.

xlyna

Labels: Lee

Wow, I haven't written in a diary since like, fourth grade! Oh well, I guess I can find some time once in a while to write some crap in here, diary dear, you're my sole confidante now, so whoever is reading this and is NOT SIERRA CORDACE. fuck off kindly. Thankyou very much. mwa.

- - -

I don’t understand, really, I don’t. I’m going to be 18 soon, pretty much an adult really. I mean, those 18 year olds in Australia are counted as mature, fully grown human beings so why can't we be? Stupid America, get with the times already. This is the reason why my mother dearest just waved a big fat happy letter from Oxford stating that I have reassurance that my future is fully secured with their facilities. Freaking hell, she probably had some personal favors she could pull with the head of Oxford or some crazy shit like that. Knowing her, I wouldn’t put it past it. I can’t believe America let some crazy mental crackhead like my mother, the infamous Gemma Rose to look after an (almost) 18-year-old teenager. Just my luck. But why Oxford? Why some gloomy stick up their ass posh school like Oxford? This is crazy. Just because she’s got saggy boobs and her new boy toy husband seems to like me better. Serves her right for marrying a kid who can totally be her son. Wow, my own mom is a cougar. That’s just so disturbing. God.

I still can’t believe I’m going to Oxford when I graduate Woodley. Like, I’ll have to totally get a Rolls Royce now, instead of my beautiful customized ballet pink hummer. And I’ll have to start wearing those god-awful trench coats that Burberry makes, even if Emma Watson totally looks adorable in them. But that’s just so British. So not me. Not Sierra. Totally NOT. Anyways, that playboy Aaron Lee got his fat ass splashed all over the tabloid covers again. That guy needs to learn to get some sense, what was it again? Something about getting together with little miss can do no wrong Swifty and then doing her best friend Miley Cyrus behind her back? Haven’t seen those girls in so long, all of them stuck up in happy L.A doing their crazy Mickey Mouse shit. I'm a little bit jealous of them actually. At least their moms keep their fake noses outta their shit, why cant my mum do the same?

God, i just wanna HURT her so much right now. Pfft, well she can do her thing on me after I had my fun with her visa black. Hello Manolos, here I come.


xxSi.

Labels: Cordace

How should I start?
Hmmmm ... I suppose dear diary would suffice.

I find myself stuck in the smothering atmosphere of New York again. Sometimes I don't even know why I return ... I mean Aaron loves this godforsaken place and honestly I thought dear mummy and daddy would be happy with just him. Apparently I was very wrong. You can hear them shouting at him through the double brick of our way-too-large-for-its-own-good mansion. I could swear passers-by stand in front of our gate amusing themselves with the progress of these screaming matches. I for one am THOROUGHLY sick of mum's unnaturally ear-splitting resemblance of a shriek, which is why I escaped to Canada for a couple of snow-filled moments of bliss. Now that little vacation is over and it's back to routine. I'm even considering a soundproof door, not that mumsy would approve.

The only thing that dear little woman approves of are those fake little bitches of the upper class. "Lyna, you should learn to be more like them, respect your elders and stop running off to the ends of the world." It's clear to me that her generation of people don't seem to possess the ability to see through the superficial smiling masks of society's daughters.

If I hear the word 'Manolo' again, I'm going to SCREAM.

xlyna

Labels: Lee

There were once delicate china teacups, gilded boxes filled with shimmering jewels and elegant ladies in extravagant dresses held tight with the help of the dreaded corset. Polite small talk were exchanged, dainty glances were thrown across a crowded ballroom beneath smoky lashes and intricate calling cards coupled with a certain type of flower for each day of the week signified the interest of a certain male. Life was a whirlwind of constant high class gatherings and walks in the garden. Tea parties were in; secret smiles hidden behind the flutterings of a plumed fan and "taking a walk" in the garden was the only way any couple could have any real intimacy away from the prying eyes of society. There were certain sets of rules a young lady have to follow to ensure status. One cannot be outspoken, or god forbid do anything to garnish her family name. Revealed ankles were almost as unacceptable as public nudity and the man's word was law.

…

Excuse me, that was centuries ago.

I'm a sexy dominatrix bitch, and when i've got something to say, y' all better listen up.

Who needs puffy dresses unless you’re Taylor Swift in her Love Story MV? Hello, did someone say old fashioned, much? They may be awesome for like, a costume party but please. Think of all those layers the guy has to strip you out of before he actually gets to the good part! I mean, come on. Who'd still be wanting to do the dirty after all the hard work? And to think of all those marks the corset will make on your body. I heard ribs were crushed because of those evil things. shiver. Well, I'm certainly glad I'm not from the dark ages but I am getting a little off topic. Have I mentioned where we actually are?

The year is 2010, location: London? Check. New York? Uh-huh. Paris? J’adore, thank you very much. Milan? A destination must have. And Tokyo city, home to the legendary quirky Harajuku fashion, and home to the many crazy nightclubs that me and my manolos have trodden into. Life for the privileged and wealthy simply do not do garden parties anymore. The world's at our feet whenever we want it- private jets, limousines, luxury yachts. Baby you name it and we have it, and this is what I call the highlife.



Introducing you to a world you've probably all heard of, but let me take you for a ride.



inside it.

Labels: intro

sierra
drop that beat honey
history

18 years ago British supermodel Gemma Rose Darling met top tier photographer Nathaniel Cordacé at a Milan fashion week afterparty. She was a mere 19 years old, and he, 27. Both were successful in their respective industries, and an innocent love bloomed between the two. They were married on impulse on a beautiful sunny day in a quaint little Italian town where Nathan was born and they were happy for a year or two, a lifetime in the fashion industry. But soon enough the inevitable spoils of the high life took its toil on the couple. They divorced two years later and each went their own respective ways, albeit not on friendly terms.


The product of this union was a little girl born during one of the happier moments in their marriage. On the 11th of March, 1992, Sierra Cordacé came into the world. She was a sunny child, but she grew up way too fast. After her divorce with Nathaniel, Gemma Rose went back into the fashion industry and recreated her image as a catwalk siren. Through the course of 16 years, she remarried seven times- all to men with one thing in common: impossibly large bank accounts. Somehow or rather, the relationships always fizzled out with a messy divorce, leaving Gemma Rose with a solid chunk of her ex-husband's grand fortune and more than enough to satisfy her expensive tastes and leaving enough to fill up her own bank account nicely without the additional income of her modeling.


So in this manner Sierra grew up. Alternating between all that is glamorous in NYC and the quintessential high life in Italy, she took everything life threw at her in her stride. Currently, she is studying for her senior year at the prestigious Woodley East highschool in New York between constant parties and events, and boys. Of course.

adelyna
sweet little girl
history

The 17 year old heiress of international company, Delights. Founded in 1888 by Elizabeth Ilene Wenshawe, the first store opened on Lexington Avenue New York. The confectionary store was an instant hit with the locals. It soon expanded across America and when technological advances permitted, the store took root in Europe, Australia, South America, and Asia. Delights has over 5000 specialty boutiques worldwide and many high-profile, licensed distributors.

Adelyna Lee was born in Sydney Australia, December 1st 1992 while her parents were on a business trip down under. Sydney still remains one of her favourite places in the world. Her mother, Isabelle Lee (neé Wenshawe) inherited the entire Delights Empire at the tender age of fifteen when Grandfather Charlie died of a sudden heart attack. Within the next five years, she graduated high school, finished her undergraduate studies at Boston University, took over the entire family business and married Matthew Lee, a successful businessman. Adelyna, or Lyna became the product of American and Chinese-Japanese backgrounds. She received her primary education in Asia, travelling between Shanghai and Kyoto. She attended high school in Australia for three years to strengthen her English before completing her secondary schooling in New York. She plans to attend university at some stage in the near future.

Layout: Nicole
Colors: Html Color Codes
Stripes: Stripe Generator
Pattern: Fivepointsapart
Inspiration: InDreamsMaybe ; x_empty



February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 January 2011 February 2011 April 2011


and it begins the night the day beyond confused juicy. i'm going to kill that asshole ... perhaps whore memorable night out the morning... or night, after. fine weather