Daisy Lowe‘s body positivity and refusal to bow to fashion industry pressures have cemented her place as one of Britain’s hottest exports.

From international catwalks to Pirelli calendars, the 27-year-old’s career in front of the camera has gone from strength to strength - all because she’s unapologetically herself.

To celebrate her latest endeavour - a partnership with lingerie brand Triumph UK - the model sat down with The Huffington Post UK to let us in on her secrets.

What does having a positive body image mean to you?

Being comfortable in your own skin, embracing all your flaws and accepting that you are who you are.

Being individual is a beautiful thing.

Where does your confidence come from?

It’s definitely something any person living in today’s society has to learn and grow up to achieve. I’m still working on it on a daily basis.

Everything that I put into my body makes a difference. How much I work out makes a difference. Surrounding myself with people I can laugh a lot with and around whom I can be 100% myself.

What advice would you give to those struggling with self-image?

Love the parts of you that you don’t enjoy so much and be kind to yourself - that’s something that I have to constantly remind myself to do. Go and do something that inspires you or makes you happy.

How do you banish self doubt on bad days?

Meditation and mindfulness helps. Having a check-in with yourself and trying really hard to be present.

We can look outside ourselves and think about what other people are doing, -especially with social media - but if you can try your best in the exact moment that’s all that matters, because that’s all that really exists.

What would you like to see change in the fashion industry?

There’s a lot more room for variation as far as models go - we should be promoting that all shapes, sizes and ethnicities are beautiful.

It would be lovely for plus size models not to be called ‘plus size’ - they’re being used for the same jobs. We’re all just models - wearing beautiful clothes that make people feel good about themselves and helping designers to sell their creations. I’d love to see more ‘in-between’ size models too.

How do you decide what to wear in the morning?

The darker and greyer the world is outside, the more I wear bright colours - as long as you’re sunny in yourself! I’m such a creature of comfort – I’m a huge fan of pulling on a pair of stretchy comfy jeans (Lowe swears by high-waisted styles by Paige, Frame and J Brand) and I love a bit of cashmere.

Jewellery wise, I always wear Crystal necklaces or chains by Loquet. I’m also a fan of a cute tea dress and ballet shoes. I love that Brigitte Bardot/Jane Birkin 60s/70s vibe mixed up with a bit of 90s grunge.

What are your favourite shopping spots?

Lark Vintage in Somerset is amazing, and in London I love Mairead Lewin Vintage. Those are top secret - I never usually tell anyone those.

Brand wise, I love James Perse, Cocoa Cashmere, Erdem, Simone Rocha and Ganni - I have a leather jacket from there I haven’t taken off for a year. I also have a troubling Saint Laurent addiction.

Talk me through your daily skincare routine.

I love the P50 W Lotion by Biologique Recherche, it’s done absolute wonders for my skin and makes it much more clear.

I also swear by the Crème de la Mer Genaissance de la Mer serum, moisturising soft cream and eye concentrate.

For my body, I use Aesop A Rose By Any Other Name cleanser and Balance Me for their luxurious moisturisers and body oils made with natural ingredients.

What are your makeup bag staples?

Tom Ford is a go-to. I use the Traceless Perfecting Foundation, which has SPF, and the concealing pen around my nose and eyes.

I like to keep my makeup really simple, so I’ll use the Laura Mercier Paint Wash liquid lip colour in petal pink on both my lips and cheeks.

For eyes, I swear by Tom Ford Waterproof Extreme Mascara and Kevin Aucoin eyelash curlers.

What’s the best tip you’ve picked up from a makeup artist?

My makeup artist would **** me if I ever slept in my makeup. Another great tip is to make sure you conceal around your nose. If your nose is red it makes your whole complexion look uneven.

Also, always apply lipstick all the way into the corners of your mouth to continue the line.

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve done in the name of beauty?

When I was younger I used to make these weird DIY face masks with my friends. We made one with mashed banana, avocado, honey and peanut butter. Peanut butter on active teenage skin was not the best idea.

Any other beauty secrets you can let us in on?

My facialist Arezoo Kaviani is amazing. She’s a real healer at heart. She does a deep cleansing ****** with extraction and LED light therapy.

I also tried a collagen wave ****** recently, which was great.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses

-Opening-

Some things are part of you
And yet you have no control.
Certain memories and habits are -
And my sister was just so.

On the morning of the funeral
Mum gave me a mint, a polo
I ****** it for a while
And felt the ‘o’
Dissolving into a thin hoop
Of mint on my tongue.

And somewhere in there was the memory
Of other moments spent
******* the ‘o’s of meditation
Years, sometimes decades ago.

There was no narrative to these memories
Save me
And during those moments that narrative
Could not see itself,
Or the relative position of its parts,
But moments do not need narrative
To be complete
Like Bryony,
I’ve found life to be
Oftentimes bad for me,
Like confectionary
And cut flowers
Short and sweet.

-1-

Bryony is now a rose,
But once upon a time
She was a mischievous
Kink in a hose.

At Kingswood Drive,
Ben and Bry on the same side:
“Daniel – help us out! The water’s stopped-
Look down the end and check that it’s not blocked.”

At last! A chance to be of use!
The baby bursts with pride -
Just as the hose unkinks
And sprays him in the eye.

-2-

Bryony ran away from home
To join the circus known as Camden Town
A world of orphans with piercings
Selling t-shirts to clowns.

I didn’t understand it,
Neither did mum and dad.
But we went to visit once, me and mum,
I must have been about six,
Can’t remember much,
But it must have been a good night –
Always is –
When you end up in high heels and a dress.
I was her little manniken
In a whole world of fashion.

-3-

“Dan? Pass my bag there with the moisturising lotion.”
I do so, and by return of post –
A vague memory of a smoky blond from photos.
I always thought she would be a model
When we were growing up.

I didn’t tell her until recently
When she’d acquired the cheekbones for it
But now her skin rippled
With dry amusement
At the notion.

-4-

At the hospice they admired
Her strong will and determination
To join the dots
Of visitors
With a shaky stubborn line
From declining throne
To the swing seat
In the garden.

“They’re lovely here.” She said.
They were not trying to change her,
They were helping her accept.


-Ending-

An ending fitting for a start
A rhyme she made me
Learn by heart
My earliest memory of her
Playing pattercake
And saying:

Make up, make up
Never, never break up.
Make up, make up
Never, never break up.

when reading spinoza i find that:
  the mere word god is the best lubricant
to utilise when structuring language -
since god: remains in the domain
of language, and this language is
bound to thought, rather than
lunatic procrastination of prayer -
thought is not a duty: it's a leisure...
which is why i find atheists so pedantic
and pseudo-atheists even more
pedantic demand a genital sphere
of god - a word, or rather, a noun
that gives origin to all other nouns...
and if i were to truly make a "******"
distinction, after the difficulties or reading
two or three germans,
    this dutch jew is like what a woman
might think when moisturising
a baby's *** with ointments or
powder...
                  all i have is a rod -
and my child is in the crevice of a grave,
and if it ever has a womb to
insist upon, it's my mind -
the womb of man is his mind which
extends into the grave -
  and from the grave the child
answers...
which is why i have no affiliation
with living authors, none...
        reading spinoza after having
finished reading heidegger is like finding
the most unimaginable ease -
to read heidegger or kant
you have to be an atlas -
but when spinoza writes:
   it's like watching an autumnal leaf
tornado down to the ground -
spiralling in a ballerina poise -
    only when the truly difficult has
been carried, is the apparently
  "hellishly" difficult all the more
easier to be carried across the valley
of shadow, grit grime and gangrene...
   yet if we do share genitals as
what they are intended for:
  then man also possesses a womb:
the mind...
  the mind in man is the equivalent
of the womb in womb...
yet the difference is:
each of man's children is born of
death - a still born excited by
a dancing partner of your ego engaging
with it, lost, abandoned, hushed:
dusted over...
  never will these children
     feel the touch of oils upon their
buttocks, only haemorrhoids from
sitting on cold gravestone marble...
   and can you just imagine as to how:
the birth of man takes so much longer
than the biological birth of man
via woman?
                sometimes it takes a near
estimate of 2000 years to give birth of
man,
  or it takes 2000 or so years to finally
cut off the umbilical chord feeding
the *******, given archaeological findings
in egypt, and abort this ******* child...
to spare: the good man, joseph.
      yet the ease with which spinoza
nonchalantly uses the word god,
  un-found in modern atheists,
  who constantly barrage the word with
hurdles, obstructions,
   the mere mention of the word
without a suggestion of a being / non-being
ever being made convincing -
  it's simply a word that glides across all others,
obstructing the mere use of the word
suggests a belief in a being,
  rather than a fluidity of the language -
i'm actually surprised why atheists
do not consist of merely stutterers...
      a word among words does not
just happen to convince me to imagine -
yet if all casualness of the word is
curbed, and we are dealing with people who
actually use the word to imply:
   some concrete, aren't we really dealing
with atheistic hysterics?
                just a few aphorisms of
spinoza and you start to walk on water...
i think in the inverted circumstance of
not possessing a womb,
   but sharing opposite genitals to a woman,
hence i must possess the opposite
of a womb... i too must accommodate
a fetus of some sort...
    sure, it's dead, but with each dead
fetus in the womb of my mind -
  i bring about a morphing of the dead into
living, like frankenstein (mary shelley,
probably the only woman that i respect) -
i revive it, it morphs, i die, someone else
picks it up, morphs it...
   abortions are not as bad as when you
think about it masculine terms:
how people are ridiculed, defamed,
             misinterpreted -
e.g. heidegger being a ****...
        that sort of **** breeds my fancy
had i the wealth of my childhood uttering
the words: imagine impregnating a woman
with wolf *****...
   i'm pretty sure i said that...
                 or male ***** with
a chimpanzee...
                       auschwitz seems pale by
comparison...
                         but god almighty,
spinoza is dancing in my head -
   he's punching, kicking like a woman
would say when the fetus is near maturity -
obviously a man's version of the womb
does not breed in situ amphibians precursors
of mammal,
but then we're less the missed
connection of the ape, and more?
  A ******* WHALE!
                     whales are mammals...
and are we not the titans of this world?
    and does not this neurosis of using
the word god not begin with:
curbing the enthusiasm of giving oaths?
that the now apparent desert plains were
once great mountain ranges?
what, they're ******* with the big bang,
i'm ******* with geology...
   the great mountain range of Gobi -
the Saharayas (sahara,
  like the Himalayas, once upon a time) -
and so the ancient egyptians "thought":
****! mountains used to be here!
  let's build a nostalgic piece of architecture!
wa'h la'h! you got the ******* pyramids of giza!
they're were write about something,
their dreams reconstructed a very, very
ancient piece of fact:
there was no reason to build
mountain like structures in a desert,
unless they had been faxed by their ancestors
the intuitive speculation that the deserts
were once mountain ranges, eroded by:
millions and millions of years...
                         welcome to porta stella.

Having stormed the 2015 catwalks, the 1970s trend is now tilting its felt beret towards our make-up bags. Good news for the party season, when a red lip and a metallic wash on the lids are ideal for anyone who struggles beyond the realms of a slick of foundation, bronzer and mascara.

Because while the era's make-up is rich in glamour, colour and confidence, it's also easy to emulate. So channel Jerry Hall and Diana Ross, and let Alex Babsky, UK make-up ambassador for Lancôme, show you how to get the look with a contemporary update.

Take one (above)

"Choose one element of the glam look - a shimmery or emerald eyeshadow, for example - and temper it with a subtle approach to the rest of your make-up. Think a nod to the 1970s, not Studio 54 pastiche," advises Babsky.

Here, he layered powder over cream shadow, in just one colour, "for more oomph" - using Stargazer Eye Dust in 17 (£4) and Anthony Vaccarello for Lancôme Hypnôse Eyeshadow Palette in Green Fever (£38). The strong eyes are balanced by "soft, liquid bronzer fusing into light, illuminating foundation, with a non-clumpy mascara [Lancôme Hypnôse Volume-à-Porter, £22.50] and natural brow".

Glow show

"The basis for all these looks is a perfected, but barely powdered, slightly sheeny skin finish," says Babsky. Look for an illuminating foundation, such as Lancôme Miracle Cushion (£29.50), which Babsky used here, or apply liquid illuminator underneath your foundation; tryLaura Mercier Foundation Primer - Radiance (£29) or Lancôme La Base Pro Hydra Glow (£28.50). "Leaving your skin with a reflective, 'real' finish allows you to incorporate bold make-up accents without it becoming overdone," says Babsky.

Shining Star

The sticky gloss of the 1970s has been superseded by a new generation of high-shine lip lacquers. "They almost roll on for a super-glistening finish. You don't need to blot, and they are a lot more comfortable on the lips," explains Babsky, who here used Lancôme Rouge In Love lipstick in 185N (£22).

Lighten up

"These are all quite 'made up' party looks, with a shine reminiscent of the glossy 1970s, but with a new lightness," says Babsky. Where 1970s make-up textures were often thick and gloopy, the 2015 version is all about taking advantage of today's finer, more languid textures. "A real must is a cream or liquid bronzer to give winter skin a much-needed moisturising glow," he says.

Here, Babsky used Giorgio Armani Maestro Liquid Summer Bronzer(£39.50) with a fine layer of Lancôme Belle de Teint (£35) over the top.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-melbourne

Wow what a night we have had, with your **** on show
I'm partial to your lovely cheeks, but that I think you know
It didn't really take too long, I'm glad we crossed that line
The bottom of the stairs is great, but anywhere is fine

You turned me on with your nice ***, there wasn't any Doubt
Such an exciting decision, when you got your great **** out
Leant on the stairs was lovely, I knew that we would jell
We got as far as the front door, before our clothing fell

Wow what a night we have had, I enjoyed squeezing your ****
I'm glad it is quite ample, and nice and big and sparse
It's good that we got naked, I hadn't been there long
To get undressed as soon as we can, is definitely not wrong

I loved the feeling that we had, it doesn't matter where
Whether it is on a bed, or bent down on a stair
We could try it in a field, or behind a wall
You can do anything you like, with no limits at all

Wow what a night we have had, with our inhibitions shed
It's just as good going upstairs, and continuing on the bed
We both got so excited, cos we knew what we would get
A different position felt so nice, when both of us got wet

What a lovely feeling, when our legs were in a tangle
When we layed down and our bodies, were at a different angle
I didn't really want to stop, because the feeling was amazing
We got so hot forget the heating, and the double glazing

Wow what a night we have had, and still it wasn't over
Your **** is just fantastic, you came like a super nova
We went downstairs for a while, and had a little rest
The sofa was the next place, where we did what we do best

I love to feel your moisture, I fingered you until you came
You were even wetter, and I know that I'm to blame
But I wanted your body, and I just can't get enough
Biting and scratching I don't mind, or being a bit rough

Wow what a night we have had, it is such a fantasy
If I had the choice it's where, I would like to be
It was so enjoyable, and I would do it all again
My mind is always thinking, of what night and where or when

I know it can be slippy, and it can be quite surprising
Especially when it's very damp, because we have been moisturising
Five times is achievable, your glistening body's a nice sight
A Pity it had to finish, but boy Wow What A Night

Stormy nights are music to my ears
like stair rods, piercing my fears
comfort of the pitter patter
heavens crying tune
watering my garden lit by the moon.
The rupture of a cloud
a crack creating light
moisturising air
creating such delight.
My mind eases into sleep
knowing peace has come
the heavy rain beating
like a musical drum.
Cosy, warm and dry
as wet pavements sigh
quenching leaves on trees
and wetting passers-by.
No longer hear the sounds
of thunderous yawns
from flowers that have drowned
on a dewy dawn.
But smiles as sunshine rises
clearing pollen air
my curtain hides surprises
time to leave my chair.
The storm has now gone
as animals leave their lair
a new day has begun
another day to share.

Grief,
The shine of eyes must be brief.

We went to a gate,
Seeing all of it fade.

How can i reach out a throne,
Feeling the chocks of a drawn
future Smiles that shall all be gone,
Will make it till dawn,
A feeling of a broken bone,
It’s a process of grown.

Fine by my side,
The wasted of tears cried,
I think we lied,
Wasn’t the easiest of a ride.

Do you feel
tears?
Moisturising the
gears?
Downfalls of
peers?
Different voices of
cheers?

In falls
Felt like waterfalls,
Little voices of crawls,
The movement of dolls,
Down beside the shores.

Happiness of fake,
Doing the take
Of a heart that never break.

You weren’t one of a kind,
Not even hard to find.

That’s a shiny blade,
What a bad trait

To stab from behind,
A person wanted to grind,
What makes mistakes light ‘n’ giant?

The morals of a soul,
carrying missiles that’s short ‘n’ tall,
To throw while they fall.

Let’s make it hard to prone,
Scared of lightning with no tone.

Shattered in the smallest of pieces,
For whoever pleases.

Now it’s all done,
Reload your gun,
Let me escape’n’ run,
Say your goodbyes with fun,
It will forever be gone.