A little rain and some weather shifting really shouldn’t be a dampener on all those pool party plans you had. In fact it should be a catalyst.

Think of the nippy water swirling around your legs, causing heightened stimulation against your skin. The sporadic ripples tickling the small of your back and the swell lulling you into a state of floating satisfaction. Imagine the goose-bumps you cant fight as the swell accepts you into its fold. Take the plunge.

(Music) Festival season is fast approaching… cue the Hipsters. We’re about to enter a three month alternate reality that’s all about obscure head-gear and clichéd conversations about how ‘Lola and Bonaroo are so totally my scene for next year’.

Somewhere in all the fluff, everyone seems to have forgotten what music festivals are actually about… the music. It’s the music that should be the center of your every conversation, the sole reason for you to get high. It should overpower every other sense and render you in a cold-sweating heap of sensation. So do us all a favor, burn your flowered hairbands and fringe clothing and focus on the music instead.

Whatever happened to ink being personal? About it having a little bit of enigma to it and not being random fairies fluttering insidiously atop obvious body parts?

I like my ink in a place that incites a little mystery. I’d put it on a part of my body that is barely ever grazed by the sun. A place that has a scent of it’s own and where the skin is always just a little bit moist.

A part of my anatomy that some consider should be kept private but others lean towards provocatively.

If you are going to get in on a trend then commit to it. Really commit. Make it your own, make it an intrinsic part of who you are and the role you want to play.

Case in point, my fixation with animal-prints. I say fixation because, really, it started out innocent. It was a bit of a crush and then the more I sported it, the more complex it became. I don’t just wear animal-prints, I manifest them.