So for some time I’ve been wanting to bring this subject to light. My good friend Rachel brought this topic to my attention a few months back on a night out in Manchester and it was like a revelation. All she said was:
“Have you ever noticed how groups of girls tend to dress alike?”
Well… I hadn’t before then but now I can’t undo that thought.
This question was risen when we were in a sports bar and there were two girls wearing matching outfits: long black rock style ripped t-shirt dresses, thigh high suede boots, chokers and blonde hair.
Undoubtedly these girls are/were (depending on when you’re reading this) bang on trend. Up with the current fashion trend but why were two girls, who were clearly friends or even sisters, dressing the same?
I have my own theory. I know myself that I’m very unadventurous with what I wear. I’ve only in the last couple of years tried things completely out of my comfort zone like bold prints, short dresses, strappy tops, the list goes on… Let’s look at one possible scenario; if someone I work with comes into the office one day in something I really like, I’m more than likely going to go online and find something similar, ponder over this item for a while and then decide whether to buy it or not. In my opinion this isn’t copying. I would definitely say this backs up the theory that ‘imitation is the best form of flattery’. If someone did that to me I’d be chuffed to be honest.
I don’t think the carbon copy effect is intentional. I think it’s that one item/trend/make-up etc might be done by one of the group and it brings it to the attention of the others. And that it looked that good on the first one that the others want to copy. The most obvious thing I know I’ve done this with was lipstick. I’ve never worn lipstick before. Well, that’s a lie actually I used to wear it when I used to dress up as a child, but as an adult it’s generally been something I’ve avoided. Maybe because smoking got in the way and made reapplication a necessity. I didn’t really see it as being ‘trendy’. I’ve always had. Love hate relationship with lip gloss too. Then Rachel started working in our department. In she came like a bubbly holiday rep, ready to get everyone pumped to do some activities. The first thing I noticed was her lippy: dark and bold. Amazing! Loved it. “Why couldn’t I be that confident?”.
I remember talking to her about colors etc and then it because a thing. Now I don’t wear lipstick all the time. I tend to go for lip tints as they are more day-to-day friendly for me. My favorite one is from Lush – smells, tastes and looks amazing.
This is now something I do religiously and would have Rachel to thank for it, for the inspiration and also the confidence to pull it off.
So next time you see a group or girls together, whether it’s even just two of them, there are more than often signs of links within. Similar hair styles, similar clothes, similar make-up, similar jewelry… I could go on forever… I will also state that I’m not saying any of this is wrong. I think it’s great! It’s lovely to see the influences around us all no matter how big or how small.
I recently stayed in a hotel in central Barcelona – a modern chic hotel. It even had a rooftop bar and pool (not that I managed to take advantage of the pool due to the weather not being so good). So what is this post about I hear you thinking? A hotel bathroom, that’s what.
Lies, Lies, Lies?
So from my own experience, hotel bathroom mirrors lie…. I’ve never looked so tanned in my life as I do in a hotel bathroom. I’ve questioned this before and been advised that it’s most likely the lighting that affects how tanned we look. I’m pasty pale 90% of the year apart from the odd occasion I get in the sun for more than a couple of minutes and manages to turn a great shade of lobster.
In the lovely hotel I decided to go for a shower on my first night there. Despite arriving at the hotel around 8ish, and being starving, I wanted to freshen up. So I tied my hair up into one of those sexy rough top knots and walked into the modern dark tiled bathroom equipped with a full wall of mirror over the sink, toilet, bidet and huge walk in shower. “We’ve got a bloody party shower!!” I exclaimed in excitement. This didn’t last long I can assure you…
I got all of my restricted toiletries out ready for the ol’ clean down and proceeded to get into the shower. I did the usual 2 minutes of fathoming out how this fancy shower could possibly work. Well it had buttons…I’ve not experienced buttons on a normal shower, only an electric shower. This is where my confusion started. Then I noticed it was clearly asking me which shower I would like to turn on…. there was more that one?…. oh yeah… one large circular shower head over me mounted to the roof of the shower and a hand held one, pointed directly at my face. What could go wrong here? Nothing! I actually understand said shower buttons and managed to turn the right shower on at a normal temperature. Phew! crisis averted….
So, I let the showery fun begin. Got my lovely Lush Rockstar soap and started to lather up. I was having a good rub, head tilted back, eyes closed and then it happened….. I opened my eyes, just one of those quick glances (I’m not sure why we all do these glances. Maybe a natural instinct. Maybe it’s something instilled in us as we’re most vulnerable when we have our eyes closed. I dunno) and I caught my reflection in the mirror. GAH!!!!
The Hotel Bathroom Mirror
What was I looking at??!!?? It looked like me, facial expression was definitely resembling resting bitch face, which is what I’m known for. Everything seemed to be in the right place. I’d not suddenly lost an arm or grown a boob on my head in the few minutes I’d been in the bathroom. Maybe I’d gone over my limit of brain use in such a small time with the whole figuring out of the shower but I really couldn’t understand what was wrong…
Knowing that we were wanting to go out to explore the immediate vicinity of the hotel, I hurried up, despite the confusion. I did however keep my eyes closed to prevent anymore confusion and to also let my brain process what it had just seen. Rub, rub, rub, splash, splash, splash. I’m sure you know what happens in a shower…
I grabbed the towel that I’d placed over the towel rail, turned the shower off and wrapped it around myself in a typical style. Brain was now attempting to process…
The possibilities were:
Yes you’re really that bloody fat and ugly
The heat in the bathroom is playing with your eyes
There is something wrong with the mirror
I was just staring at myself. Long stares… Pulling and prodding at myself.
Now point 1 seemed the most logical. And before I get judged for being all “woe is me” and attempting to fish for compliments, that’s far from it. I’m quite accepting of the way I look and don’t need validation from others. Obviously I’d love to have the body of Demi Lovato but I got dealt the body I have and all the burgers, pizza, Chinese food and beer have helped me create the body I have today. I could accept that point 1 was the truth but it seemed odd that this wasn’t what I’d seen in my own mirror at home in both the bathroom and bedroom.
Considering point 2 I thought was unlikely. I’ve never heard of heat or steam affecting someone in the way that people start to see their own reflections like a scene from Shallow Hal.
And on to point 3. I stood in front of the mirror staring back at myself. I looked ok now. Normal to what I’m used to and would expect. That’s when it dawned on me… the bloody mirror had a join in it. So basically the wall along where the sink was had a mirror from the back of the sink up to the ceiling. But the wall to the left also had a mirror. What I’d seen when I was in the shower was my own reflection curving around the bathroom wall with a join in the middle. To describe what I saw was me but like 3 times as wide with a weird shaped chest and stomach.
Oh thank goodness!! It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. I still wasn’t the oil painting I would prefer to be but I wasn’t the monster I’d seen 5 minutes prior.
Yay!! I’m not a munter!! Oh wait. Then I was welcomed by “mr stupidly small shaving mirror that can only move backwards and forwards and is no real use for tall or short people” apart from showing EVERY. SINGLE. Spot, black head, stray hair, you name it… I now had the shock realization that my beauty mirror at home is exactly that, a mirror that makes me feel beautiful. Now I’m not saying it’s like the mirror from Snow White but it must be softer or something. Anyway, now I was stuck in a foreign country with no tweezers and none of my usual beauty products. (I’d decided to go au-natural and not bring any liquids, creams, hair products etc and I even left many straighteners at home) ??
What to do next
So now my only option was to try and resolve the situation, avoid the mirror like it was some guy I’d once snogged when beer goggles were definitely in effect, or go out and buy some supplies. I’m not the most beauty focused and knowledgeable person out there when it comes to things like that. I wear what make-up I want to, I clean it off when I want to and I know what works and what doesn’t with my skin. I really couldn’t be arsed giving way to the pressures of “the mirror” and going out to buy things. Right, that was it. Those few stray hairs around my eyebrows weren’t suddenly going to make Stephen repulsed. He’s usually got his eyes on his phone anyway, I hardly think he’ll have noticed.
I could deal with it. Bye bye mr mirror, back you go. I pushed it away with such sass and put him back in his place. (Not sure why I’m calling it and him but it right at the time)
And I managed it. I went 4 days, 3 nights without using tweezers, razor, moisturizer, cleanser etc. etc. etc. and guess what?! I look pretty much the same. So lesson learned. I probably don’t need to be that concerned about things yet. Actually I think I’m pretty lucky to not ‘need’ loads of products.
At the end of the day
So in reflection (excuse the really awfully timed pun), bathroom mirrors are arseholes! They are. Especially hotel ones but the truth is that we shouldn’t need to feel that we have to be the epitome of perfection on a daily basis. You’re allowed a day off. It’s fine. Let your skin have a break. Give yourself a break. Spend those 5 minutes you might spend shaving on a daily, weekly or however frequently you do basis, use that 5 minutes to kick back and relax. Lay back in the bath and appreciate your beauty for what it is.
This is probably one of my longest posts and I really could have summed this up in like a paragraph at the beginning but I felt that it was an important subject that we shouldn’t just brush over.
Oh and just a note. I’ll be uploading a diary from my Barcelona trip once I get round to it.
So after much debating, I decided that Saturday was the day for my new piercing – septum.
From my last post you can see that I was really torn between a medusa or septum. I decided that my septum would be the least hassle and decided to go for that…for now.
Preparation
Well. I’d totally planned on going into Sheffield to a place I’d been recommended but after waiting in for a delivery until 4ish on Saturday I knew my chances of getting in to Sheffield before closing time were slim. I’d already looked online the previous night and found a couple of alternatives if my schedule failed more local to me.
I’d already messaged a local place on Friday evening asking if I needed an appointment for a septum piercing. I received a reply first thing on Saturday morning saying that piercings were walk-ins.
I’d been psyching myself up all Saturday. At one point I was thinking “fuck it” but then I decided to grow some balls. The delivery still hadn’t arrived but I wasn’t willing to wait any longer. So I left Stephen at home and drove through to Wombwell. I completely over thought the parking situation and where the place even was and ended up walking around in the rain looking for an ATM that has rudely been moved. As the rain stopped I checked my phone and looked at the location through Facebook maps. I’d walked the wrong way down the High Street. GAH!!!!
After calming myself down and composing myself I found the place and walked in.
The experience
I was greeted by two very friendly girls on the front desk. I explained that I’d messaged the previous night and that I was there for my septum piercing. While one of them disappeared and went into the back, the other handed me the obligatory consent form that appeared to have 1001 questions relating to my health. Obviously I ticked ‘ok’ to everything and handed the form back.
I was lead upstairs to a tiny room and asked to sit on a bed. (I saw bed loosely as I’m not sure of the correct term for a massage style table)
The girl who was going to be piercing me was small and pink hairerd. Luckily she had a number of piercings and tattoos that kept me distracted. I tried not to focus too much on the needle and instruments but I did have to check that they looked cleaned and I was relieved. Everything came out of new packets apart from the clamp which she spent quite a few minutes testing how tight they would be. Now came to the mark up process. I have a number of lines drawn on my nose, had her fingers up there for a few seconds and then a good clean. I was petrified she was going to locate some small boogey or some thing. I kept holding my breath so that I didn’t breathe in her face. Probably not the best thing to do when you’re nervous and need your breath to try and calm yourself down.
I made sure I’d removed my side nostril piercing in preparation before she started.
“I’m going to use the small half ring as you’ve got a small nose,” she said. That felt lovely after being scarred most of my life after having my sister pick on me for having a big nose growing up.
I was ready!
My eyes were closed and I prepared myself.
The clamp went on…not too tight, thank god. Then she said “ready?”
“Yes,” I replied.
And there is was….OUCH!!!! OMG!OMG!OMG!OMG!
I couldn’t breathe, my eyes started streaming. JEEZ!!!
She was forcing the needle through. I kinda presumed it would be over in one fell swoop. Nope! Not at all. After a few seconds, of which felt like a lifetime, she stopped and started to put the ring through. YES!! I thought, it’s really over. Oh no! How I was wrong. The ring wouldn’t go through. She kept trying to force it through… The only way I can describe the pain was like after head butting a wall with your nose and then having someone pinch it and pull it really really hard.
“It’s not gone all the way through. I’m going to try again and put a bigger ring in.’
My heart dropped. I had to go through it again.
She started to force the needle back through again.
My eyes were streaming. It hurt so much. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was starting to feel faint,. Then she stopped. “I’m just going to put the ring in now.”
I was worrying that it would take a while to put the ball on the end as I know the struggle but because she was wearing latex gloves it took her no time.
PHEW!!!! I’ve never been more relieved. She let me compose myself and then said she was going to take some photos of it for her portfolio. I was wiping my eyes with my top and felt a little in shock. I got my breathing back to normal and started to feel ok. Then the general aftercare conversation started,.
The end results
This is what I ended up with.
From the pictures it looks pretty straight but I soon realized that it was wonky as hell. Before I panicked and even contemplated asking for it doing I reassured myself that it would more than likely settle straighter once it wasn’t as swollen or traumatized.
I paid up, got my aftercare sheet and walked to the car. Here’s a picture I took once I’d sat down.
There’s no filter on this. I was indeed quite pale. Still heavy breathing but I was pretty happy and starting to love it.
After 3 weeks it’s look better and I’ve realized that even if it isn’t straight, neither is my nose. It looks nice and I like it. It’s still sore and will be for a while so I don’t plan knocking it but I will admit that I never realized how much you actually tap the tip of your nose.
Aftercare and healing
I’ve had a couple of piercings in my time and I’ll admit that this has been the easiest to take care of. A cup of boiling water with a quarter-ish of a teaspoon of salt dissolved, left to cool so that I can bear it on my skin and then I sit with the end of my nose submerged in the water. I do this twice a day for a couple of minutes at a time. I don’t play with it or poke it. When I clean my nose I used cotton buds and doing it gently. 3 weeks on and I’m pretty much pain free apart from the odd knock.
Let’s see what I go for next…the medusa is still on the cards.
I do apologize for the lack of posts of the last couple of weeks. I was in the process of writing one about my new piercing. This one will be come soon once I finish it. I will also be making more of an effort to keep up with posting regularly regardless of what I’ve got going on around me.
I’ve been debating my next piercing for some time now. Recently I’ve been swaying towards the medusa.
I’ve already got my lobes pierced 3 times on each ear; the lower ones I’m in the process of stretching, my helix on my left ear, scaffold on my right ear, nose and bellybutton.
I had my scaffold done in June 2017. It’s getting there with the healing process but it is taking forever. It keeps having keloids. I seem to go through phases: it can be fine and painfree for ages and then suddenly – BOOM! – pain comes from no where! I’ve managed to get over the awkwardness of sleeping on it and I’ve manage to accommodate it subconsciously.
Maybe I’m falling into a false sense of security and maybe it will come back to bite me in the arse but I feel I’m now ready for the next one.
I was contemplating a tongue piercing. I’ve wanted this doing since before I had my nosed pierced (which was my first non-standard-ear piercing). I’ve done the research and I feel that, knowing my look, they’ll probably go straight through my vein and I’ll bleed to death. I know…I’m being dramatic. If you go to a reputable piercer it won’t be a problem but I’m a pussy.
I’ve seen many people with the medusa, also know as the philtrum. I think it looks really hot! I’m not tempted with a large blingy jewel. Something subtle is more my choice.
The piece of flesh where my nose stops and my lip begins is quite short. My lips are really shaped and quite pout and think it might be a nice addition.
The weekend before last I witnessed what I can only be described as an unnecessary and useless hairstyle.
What happened?
I went out into Barnsley with the significant other. We went to a place called the Grill Pit and indulged in way to much grilled and BBQ food washed down with a number of cocktails and numerous beers.
Afterwards we decided to head upstairs to Jock’s Cavern, which is a cool rock/indie bar where they often have live music.
We settled into the atmosphere and engaged in the drinking and unorganized swaying to covers of popular rock songs.
I love to people watch and spend most of my time squinting (as I barely go “out” with my glasses on). I spotted the regulars: roadies, young overly dressed 18 year olds way too over dressed for the venue, groups of guys on the pull, drunk 50 plus women and a birthday group.
It was all going well until a group of, what I can imagine, were early twenties, fashionable girls. There were four of them. One had long hair, just down. One had a top knot. One had her hair down with some of it clipped up off her face. And the other……… well!
Imagine a top knot but at the back of your head. Only taking the hair of a 4 inch square lower than the crown.
Something like this
In my head I asked the following questions:
Did she forget to take it out?
Was it that ridiculous that she thought she was setting some kind of trend?
Because it was at the back of her head did she not notice it was there?
Did someone play a joke on her?
Did it have a purpose that wasn’t obvious, like creating a surgery free face lift?The questions kept coming with no logical answer.
I decided I couldn’t be witnessing this so I decided I needed photographic evidence to write a post on here. Emily after a couple of pints/cocktails didn’t have her best judgement at hand…cue reaching for her phone and turning around to take a quick snap on her phone…
Wait…
No
No!
NOOOOOO!!!!
THE FLASH WAS ON!!!
ABORT, ABORT, ABORT MISSION!!
I panicked and as quick as I could swung my arm and made it (what I thought) look like I was taking a picture of the bar.
Phew catastrophe avoided! I think…
What’s this girl’s problem?
A lot of people who know me know that I may have struggled for some time to accept that the “top knot” is a thing. I struggled to come to terms with the fact that there was a tending hair style for men. Seemed strange at first. Then came women with top knots. Again it seems odd but I accepted it. I have no idea what this hair style would have even been called: The Back Knot? The No Point at all Knot Who knows?!
In conclusion
I learnt the following things:
Drunk Emily cannot and does not remember to turn her flash of when taking photos of unsuspecting targets
I will definitely THINK and CHECK before I ever attempt to do this again
I have real issues with hairstyles that aren’t practical or look good
I can deal with different variations of “top knot” but not a bloody “back knot”
I’m a general lover of documentaries so whilst perusing the choice available on BBC Three I found Brainwashing Stacey – Anti Abortion Camp.
I’ve watched many of Stacey’s documentaries and I really enjoy them despite their generally hard-hitting topics.
What Happened
Stacey went to a 2 week summer camp in San Bernadino in USA.
She was attending a summer camp run and attended by those calling themselves the Survivors, a quite heavily religious group who believe abortion is murder and that life begins at conception.
She s[ends the 2 weeks staying with camp going to protests and generally trying to be converted to their beliefs.
My Opinion
I am quite an opinionated person. I am definitely pro-choice but I wouldn’t get mad or have any animosity towards anyone with a conflicting opinion.
The reason I found this documentary interesting was that fact that this group we incredibly opposed to the option that Stacey could be speaking any truth and because of her knowledge and experiences in the past with women who have been affected by this topic she had more of an educated opinion in comparison to the 11 to 16 year olds that were there spouting off opinions that almost didn’t appear to be their own.
I believe that pro-choice does include considering the values and opinions of those that believe in pro-life. Each situation where a woman goes into considering an abortion won’t be done lightly.
I agree that is every individuals right to believe what they want to but I don’t agree with people forcing their extreme opinions down other people’s throats, targeting women who are already in a vulnerable state and making their situation even more traumatic.
My jaw nearly hit the flaw when he described that from the date that the USA legalized abortion was the start of a type of genocide!
The Verdict
Overall I really enjoyed the documentary. I always think comment like that seem strange as I don’t want people to think I like enjoyed the graphic images of aborted fetuses or anyway agree with the main topic of the show but I thought the way the topic was handled was done with dignity and really gave both sides of the argument a platform to speak. Stacey is obviously passionate about this topic and I give her credit for actually willing herself to be surrounded with such biased views without wanting to grab most of them and shake them.
The thing that really scared me though was how radicalized these teenagers were becoming. I know this term is used a lot in today’s media in reference to terrorism but the way these “children”, and I say “children” through gritted teeth, were saying that they would be willing to give up their own life for the cause was shocking.
I’d really recommend giving this a watch. Whichever stance you have, I think this documentary manages to put both sides of the opinion across in a very insightful way.
This is a question that came up in a conversation with a friend of mine last weekend. The conversation started about make-up and products and inevitably ended up on that subject a lot of women take very seriously.
Now, go back 5 years… I don’t remember ever thinking “holy crap, I looked washed out today, oh yeah it’s because I forgot to put my eyebrows on”. Now this is a thing. It’s actually a thing! I refuse to leave the house without my eyebrows done or mascara. Why? It’s not like someone is going to walk up to me and go “what the hell have you done? You can’t come out today without fully coloured in brows!”
Believe me, I’m not the only one that feels this way.
I’m not a beautician or will ever profess to be one but I can completely see the difference. Having my eyebrows coloured in makes my eyes look “better”. I don’t know how else to describe it.
I’ve just spent 10 minutes trying to find a picture of myself pre-eyebrows and i can’t. Must have been the whole “selfie” generation came in just around that time. Coincidence? I think not!!
The first time…
I first had my eyebrows done for a mother and daughter photoshoot. As you can see I didn’t end up with “slugs” or a scouse brow. Far from it. It looks pretty natural. Before you start to judge me by thinking “that photo is totally photoshopped”, and you would be right. I’ve never looked that flawless in real life. EVER!
I struggle to be advernturous with make-up in general as I never know what to wear or how to apply. Add that with the fact I have got two different coloured eyes and then it blows my mind.
What do I use?
I prefer using products that are animal cruelty free. This is something I’ve decided to follow in the last year or so as I’ve started relying on make-up more and more. I prefer Barry M. Not because I have particular standards or anything but it works for me.
Keeping the standard up…
So this is what I keep my eyebrows like now and hope to do for a while until some other trend comes along.
I can assure you now though, I will never shave them off. Did that once before… that story is for another day!
It’s come to that time where I’m experiencing an automotive conundrum.
My car, a Citroen DS3, has caused my more problems over the past 4 years of having it that I’m ready to say bye.
In the beginning…
In 2013, after starting my current job, I knew that my car at the time (an old Ford KA) wouldn’t be able to cope with the commute. It had issues with the engine warning light constantly towards the end. I knew it was time to part ways. So bye bye it went in part exchange for this shiny 6 month old Citroen DS3 Sport Plus.
I will add at this point that I didn’t want the top spec model but I didn’t really have a choice. If I was getting a car, I was getting the best version of that car.
I did my research on other cars but I had my heart set on this one and there she was, all clean and gleaming at Evans Halshaw (don’t get me started in those cowboys!). I was very excited (and also terrified) of owning such an expensive piece of property. Literally this was the only thing I owned until we got our mortgage.
It all seemed so good…
I’d had Bitzy for just over 2 months when on a normal commute to work, a guy in a white transit van failed to notice the large queue of traffic in front of him and he went straight in to the back of me. In a state of shock and panic, and also confusion at my car ringing the emergency services itself resembling a scene from Nightrider, I only got this guys phone number. Cutting this whole scenario short, he basically had no intention of complying with me or my insurers to get my car sorted. Despite there being hardly any visible damage, the whole rear bar of the car was bent in half and cracked.
Luckily (and I say luckily as my insurance went up!!!) he ended up complying when the police got involved. Weird thing was that he came up on my Facebook suggested friends feed. Undoubtedly because I had his phone number and the algorithms Facebook use to automatically sync your phone contacts and potential Facebook friends.
He was filled away with the other many “not likely” friends on Facebook!
And back to Bitzy…
From that incident she’s never been the same. Reverse parking sensors never work properly. Either they just scream like a possessed turtle, randomly sense nothing or don’t work at all. Perry’s couldn’t seem to find I fault. I think it’s just her way of keeping me entertained and on my toes. I’m really good at parking now thanks to the fact that I’ve got something screaming at me everytime I do.
It wasn’t long after the accident that she was in the garage for weeks at a time with various problems and it’s been a re-occurring thing over the last 4 years.
This most recent incident with the water pump going is the final straw though. It’s never a £50 fix, it’s always something excessive.
In my sadness I’ve just calculated that I’ve spent roughly 2088 hours with this car. I’ve spent more time with her that I have with most people I know! It’s going to be sad to see her go but I’m hoping her next owner will love her as much as I have!
In to the future…
Today I went to have a look at cars. I’ve been considering for a while what I’d like. from Mercedes A Class to VW Sirocco, Audi A1 to A3. I had a sit in the S1, S3 and TT and I’m honestly swaying towards the TT.
So by this picture, you can see that Molly and Jack look very different despite being Jack Russells.
We knew Molly was potentially a mix breed but we started to think the same about Jack too.
We’ve debated for years what they could possibly be made up from. Christmas 2015 we were going to get them ancestory kits as presents but we didn’t manage to get round to it but last Christmas we did.
Four weeks ago we actually got round to doing the dog ancestry test. Two envelopes containing swab brushes and a self-addressed envelope. Two swabs needed to be done of each of their mouths. Followed the instructions, entered the package details on the website and posted them off.
Last week Stephen got a notification email saying they were ready. EXCITING!!! Finally we were going to get the answers we had wondered about for many years.
What came back was slightly confusing…
Firstly we opened Jack’s results.
Parents: Jack Russells
Grandparents: Jack Russells
Great Grandparents: Jack Russells
Great Great Grandparents: Jack Russells and one Chihuahua
Ok…….
Then Molly’s results:
Parents: Jack Russells
Grandparents: Jack Russells
Great Grandparents: Jack Russells
Great Great Grandparents: Jack Russells and one…wait for it…Old English Sheepdog
*CONFUSED FACE*
I’ve been saying for a while that I reckoned Molly could have Chihuahua in her so we think the results were mixed up. That way would make much more sense.
So from it we’re taking it that Molly has a little Chihuahua in her and Jack has a little Old English Sheepdog in him (makes sense with him always getting covered in paint when I decorate).
Click the button to go to the site that we used to have the Dog Ancestry tests done.
Disclaimer: I am not being paid to advertise the services offered by Wisdom Panel