So Leafy

just another blog of stuff somebody likes


Ask me anything   Submit
Reblogged from sam42

I remember the first morning trying to open my starched collar with a nail file so I could breathe. I was crippled by a kind of beauty, which was hell for me, and I got a lot of wrong responses.

I had blondish, long hair, and in a school full of boys that is the nearest thing to a girl you can get. It makes you very self-conscious. I watched other pretty boys do better than me.

I remember walking around holding my mouth differently, and out-staring people, and I cut my hair and poked at my face with a pin, and tried to infect the wound with dirt.

The older boys could send junior boys on errands, and I was sent by one of the top members of my house to take a message to a boy in another house. And when I got there, after a few minutes, I was aware that I had been sent for other reasons, and I began to retreat. He said: ‘I want a picture of you, that’s all.’ But I felt threatened by him, and frightened by the fact I had been set up by the boy in my house.

Jeremy Brett, on his time at Eton (via sam42)

Is it wrong that this is totally hot?

(Source: independent.co.uk, via frilton)

Notes

  1. zorekryk reblogged this from frilton
  2. frilton reblogged this from lyviathan
  3. gamerchick02 reblogged this from sam42
  4. lyviathan reblogged this from sam42
  5. enjolrastopheles reblogged this from sam42
  6. sam42 posted this