Thursday, 25 February 2010


Just had the best night! Front row fashion show seats, goodie bags, lovely company, oodles of gorgeous clothes and jewellery, including some of the most beautiful vintage dresses and 50's handbags - Ossie Clarke, Zandra Rhodes, Jack Byran, yummy - plus a freeeeee bar in the Waldorf Hotel afterwards. Reminds me why London is the best city in the world! (Although now I can't walk due to my ridiculous 6-inch platforms. And I inexplicitly managed to my mobile phone into German on the way home...)

Pics coming soon.



Phew, what a day. I'm e.x.h.a.u.s.t.e.d. But fun times ahead now. Going to London Fashion Weekend tonight (thank you, Jemma!) and then homeward bound to the countryside with my lovely boy on the weekend. Happy days!

Wednesday, 24 February 2010


Sometimes I look at these pictures and forget it was me that took them; me that is in them. Life's too short not to embrace every single day and chase that beauty that can so easily be forgotten as our working lives take over. As amazing as life is at the moment, I can't wait until I can go travelling again.

[Pics from Thailand 2007 and my trip to India last year with my lovely, lovely boyfriend]


London Fashion Week is almost over, but what DELIGHT it was from start to finish. Here's Mary-Kate at Burberry looking fierce in black...

[Olsens anonymous]

Monday, 22 February 2010

Blonde {ambition}

I may not be blonde, but I can sure as hell appreciate honey tone locks.

[Publication: LOVE, Issue: #3 Spring/Summer 2010, Title: Wash Your Face In My Sink, Photographer: Angelo Pannetta, Models: Lily Donaldson, Natasha Poly, Kasia, Pixie Geldoff & Raquel Zimmermann, Fashion Editors: Victoria Young, Sally Lyndley & Pheobe Arnold, {Photo Source: TFS via Alice's Wardrobe Wonderland} ]

Betty Jackson A/W 2010/11

Opening the third day, a bright but freezing Sunday morning, Betty Jackson gave our chills a reason to be happy with her feminine, cosy-than-thou collection. It was a move away from the romantic dresses in ditsy blooms of rose pink, baby blue and lavender we know her for, striking through instead with guilded metallics, burnt terracotta, slate, olive, tangerine and mahogany – shades taken from dappled autumnal woodland. But vintage belles and boho princesses needn’t worry; it was divine.

English Rose models with teased, flowing hair took to the catwalk in covetably snugly knits, calf-length coats and lightweight cotton separates that were perfect to accessorise with woolly tights, lace-up boots, and, of course, the ubiquitous Dutchie bike. It was a collection made with real women in mind. A slate and pepper fair-isle knit chunky jumper with oversized roll neck was worn with city shorts that stopped flatteringly just below the knee, a boxy waist bringing a chic, modern twist. While a bronze-gold full length jumpsuit with peephole front and the oh-so-popular tapered trouser leg looked deliciously comfortable and stylish – and would look fierce with cascades of chains and glossy noir nails for the evening.

Delicate, feminine tailoring with nipped-in waists created a soft, hourglass silhouette for the modern woman. The detail, too, was infectious. Multi-layering in a swathe of different textures – wool, leather, cotton, ruffles and silk – added to the sumptuous charm. While the colour combinations – midnight and bronze, tangerine and alabaster – were equally striking.

All-in all, a beautiful collection for those inevitably icy winter days.

[Images: Elle]

Punk & studs

It’s now day 15 on my quest to find a new dwelling and it’s not going well. Safe to say, this moving house malarkey is becoming the bain of my life. A MONSTER in the otherwise carefree, giggle-filled existence I have taken to love quite muchly. I’m tired, stressed, hopeless and feel illogically angry at people for not moving out of their pretty houses so we can live there instead, feeling like I’ve spent every last evening and weekend of my life trudging round estate agents to visit crumbling, mould-infested flats that are to small to even hold my wardrobe – let alone my bed and shoe collection.

We’ve got a viewing at Dalston tonight then two in Stokey tomorrow… Fingers crossed we find something lovely, liveable and cheap as chips.



Ps. Moschino ’s A/W collection will really make you smile. Gimme a punk-luxe howl…

[Images: FASH ON]

Saturday, 20 February 2010

Bora Aksu A/W 2010/11

Although inspired by folklore, fairytales and fantasy, there was nothing elusive about Bora Aksu’s Autumn/Winter ’10 collection. Romantic and haunting, the catwalk flowed with an enchanting array of his signature texture-laden creations. Futuristic dresses with full hips gave way to structured shouldered blazers, billowing trouser suits and underwired tops in a swathe of textures.

There was detail and architectural interest everywhere you looked. Flirty mini dresses were adorned with delicate bow necks, ruffled shoulders, exposed zips, cut-out holes and giant pockets – one dress even had a voluminous pocket puffed out the front made from complimenting satin fabric. Woollen rope twisted and looped its way around dresses made of soft gauze – perhaps alluding to deadened roots creeping up to constrict their prey – while delicate capes and lightweight blouses bounced in the air. It was a collection of contrasts, which became even more evident when the sweetest pieces – such as the raspberry sweetheart neckline prom dress – were paired with buckled, punk-luxe leggings in tough black.

The palette was just as interesting. In muted tones of lilac, rose, oyster, mahogany and jet he gave an eerie twist to Spring/Summer’s love affair with sorbet shades, while metallic shocks of gold – in the form of lame trouser suits and puffball mini dresses – punched through with alarming force. All in all, a fairytale fantasy.

[Images: Zimbio]

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

My favourite shoe

In a wardrobe littered with vintage heels, peep-toed courts, platforms and ballet flats, my Converse All-Stars stick out by a mile. Dirty, holey and on the brink of death, they’re the scruffiest shoes I own – and the ones I love the most. I remember the first pair I ever brought. Growing up on a farm I was desperately uncool as a kid – dungarees, woolly ‘animal scene’ jumpers and matching t-shirts and leggings being the sum of my wardrobe. But that soon changed (thank GOD).

As an angst-ridden teenager of the 1990’s, I idolised grunge bands like Nirvana and Incubus and hankered after their wardrobe of dishevelled jeans, plaid shirts and, of course, the ubiquitous All-Star trainer. Chuck Taylor may have given it superstar status way back in 1917 – before it rose to cooler than thou fame again in the rockability 1950’s and punk era of the 1970’s – but to me, as the shoe of my youth, those moody days of the late nineties was where my love affair started. When I slipped my feet into my very first pair – black high tops with gleaming white laces – they felt so amazing I practically bounced on paving stones made of clouds all the way home. They were comfy, lightweight, and without doubt, the coolest things I owned.

All-Stars have been a barometer of happy memories throughout my life. First gigs, first dates, first days at college... I even fell in love with my boyfriend over a pair. But perhaps one of the greatest things about them is their versatility. Anyone can own a pair of Converse All-Stars. They transcend age, gender and wealth, and there’s not one snoot of snobbery about wearing this sports trainer as a shoe in its own right – unlike sister athletic brands of say Adidas or Nike. They’re in a league of their own and their style potential is boundless. Equally great teamed with a floral tea dress and some pop socks than a lumberjack shirt and skinny jeans, they’re the perfect finishing touch to an outfit come summer, winter, rain or shine. You could even go all Florence Welch and team yours with a pair of glittery gold hot pants and a lace bolero.

And there are just so many styles to choose from you’ll never get stuck in a fashion rut. A never-ending rainbow of candyfloss pink, metallic gold, mint green, sunshine yellow, stripes, stars, spots – even ones emblazoned with colourful cartoons. Converse All-Stars; they’re their very own walk of fame.

Ring ding-a-ling

I went and did it! After lusting after beautiful rings like this for what seemed like IONS...

... I sneaked into a wonderful vintage shop in Stokey while out househunting this morning and brought a clatter of pretty, bright and pearlescent rings to scatter over my fingers like an old cat lady.

Ali G, take that!

[Image: Fashion Canvas]


Call me old fashioned, but isn’t anyone bored of Herve Leger bandage dresses yet? Yes they’re sleek, glamourous and enough to get any man’s eyes bulging out of his head like the “awooooga” dog in The Mask (if so inclined). But come on. They make anyone who doesn’t have a figure like Bar Refaeli look like a human tire stack on legs. And they may claim to be the high-end version of Spanx, but last time I checked, if you have tubby bits it doesn’t just go away if you squeeze something tight over it; it gets bulged out of some other unforgiving part of your body. And a muffin-top back or roly-poly knees isn't a good look for anybody.

And aren’t they just a bit boring? Strips of lycra sewn together to create, in essence, a human-shaped inner tube. Yawn. I’ll admit the designs have recently become more creative, moving on in terms of colour and print and even experimenting with texture – a streak of sequins here, a plume of chiffon there. And Rachel Bilson looked adorable when she teamed her caramel design with boho hair and a vintage clutch. But she’s the exception to the rule. For the rest of us they’re fundamentally an elasticated cylinder you squeeze into before spending the rest of the evening sucking your tummy in and hoping to God you don’t get wind.

To add to my infurity, the body con dress is so overdone. Victoria Beckham’s worn one, Lindsey Lohan’s worn one – hell, even Beth Ditto’s pulled and tugged her voluminous curves into a flurry of rainbow bright designs. And away from the starry lights of celebrity land it’s the uniform of the chav. Just look how many cheap, knock-off designs are slicked upon ex Big Brother housemates in Whisky Mist and you see my point.

Herve Leger bandage dresses, I implore you. You’ve been around for 25 years. That’s long enough for anyone; most of all me. So bow down gracefully (careful not to pop a seam) and let some other sucker have a go.