Honestly, if I didn't cull my photos, I would literally have a photo for every day of the year. What this means or accomplishes, I have no idea. I have given up trying to understand why I reflexively take a photo of something. Is this the diarist in me, but by photos instead? Possibly.
So a year ago today I was in Auckland city. It wasn't an all-nighter and that I had just seemingly emerged from the Forte bar at 10am- I was just passing through a deserted alley-way on a Sunday morning to get to Queen Street.
Had a browse at Louis Vuitton because why not? High-end shops are the epitome of perfect customer service even if you're not buying anything. The whole point it seems of someone actually interested in explaining to you how an expensive product is made is to show you that what you're paying for is actually worth it.
And apparently I also went to Prada which was even friendlier and more accommodating than Louis Vuitton.
And this was dinner which was fried camembert and some other stuff.