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40 squids in Topshop
40 squids from Lipsy
6 Great British Pounds from Camden Market
1 euro and 50 shillings from Pennys Couture
i already have a leather jacket. i only recently acquired a new pair of ankle boots (worn twice to date). i paid 2000e for laser eye surgery about 4 years ago to banish the heinous spectacles from my life and i think i own about 10 pairs of sunglasses. but i must i must i must. some of the goods were bought at sale price like. that makes it ok right?
was thinking about getting a fringe over the past week. totally impractical and unattainable. a frizzy, flyaway bonce replete with cows lick and kiss curls is not conducive to sleek, heavy, rock-chick fringes. i know this in my heart of hearts but it does not stop me yearning for the inimitable cool of the fringe. it hides a multitude of sins, suggests drama and mystery and looks sexy as hell. however i would have to weigh mine down with mini-dumbells, straighten the bejaysus out of it every time i left the house and more often than not, would have an accidentally-asymmetrical hairline. so im rooting for wigs to make a comeback. without having to undertake any drastic styling to the head, wigs afford a whole world of personalities and looks. straight to curly, flat to bouffant, mousy to mysterious, prude to porn star etcetc no more slaving over styling products, hair-fixing tics or frizz drama. the only thing to be wary of is flammability i guess. Katsuya Kamo – a milliner based in Tokyo – had it right at the Karl Lagerfeld Chanel couture show for SS09. the head-gear made as much of an entrance as the beguiling romantic snowstorm Lagerfeld created in his designs.
charlie le mindu has always been the queen of high wiggery – some of his creations defy belief. the hair is undoubtedly the focus of the look – everything else pales into the background.
and while we’re at it – what about a face mask? it is the next logical step afterall: the hair is sorted: wig = minimum effort, maximum impact. a bodysuit/ face mask = minimum effort, maximum impact. no more layering on the slap, no more questionable tan lines, no more comparative analysis. all that simmering anxiety boxed off in a stylish face mask with accompanying bodysuit? the idea was showcased at Petrou Man’s SS 10 show. mainly for the fashionable male, but quite transferable i should think.
lady gaga, being the fashion buccaneer that she is, already piloted both of these accessories. and with aplomb one might add. so put me down for one lacy face mask, one fluoro body suit and one lantern-shaped wig.
was supposed to be writing about my indecent london shop-a-thon but… just…too…excited. why is that? two words. BUM BAGS. i can’t explain how much i am all over the new fannypack. trashy, flashy, they are the hip to the hop, the b to the bop, sheer tacky brilliance. i mean they are practical – no one can deny them that. the original reason for being – guard your passport, your monies and your keys – are still very valid reasons in the lawless, feckless underbelly of Irish Socialising. i regularly drop (fling) my wallet/scarf/keys/hat/coat/kitchen sink/identity/jewellery/sweeties at various stages of a night out. sometimes even in my own home. imagine the unadulterated freedom of knowing that everything you needed was safely ensconced in a sturdy, hip-hugging, bum-tugging hold-all? and now the fact that they have been tarted up to the high heavens, the possibilities are endless. please see rihanna, always ahead of the curve, (designers whispering sweet nothings into her ear), donning a louis vuitton beauty back at christmas. vuitton then pimped them all out over the catwalk for S/S 10, with designer Marc Jacobs presenting his own sporty little numbers for his show. Ashish have built the bum bag into jogging pants (my 2nd most favourite thing in the world) and trotted out some spiky, studded beauties, of which, im sure we’ll see replicas on the high street shortly. American Apparel have a variety for both men and women, being the outré fashion leaders that they are. but it is hats off to Yana who have thoroughly smacked that ass with a series of superbly trashy, quilted bum bags.
between the mc-hammer pants, the bodysuits, the knuckledusters and now the fannypack, i was clearly queen of the 80s. no scrap that, i AM the 80’s.
oh she knows it. rihanna stamp of approval
vuitton – understanding the impact of double bum-bags
marc jacobs – if you like pastel matchy-matchy
ashish doing dominatrix studded style
more ashish studs, this time with tie-dye balloons
yana: i want i want i want
sunny bum-bag brilliance. gonna rock that on me holliers
Imagine my delight at seeing my musings confirmed in this article in the Guardian Style section. . I was in the great Topshop Almighty in Oxford Circus at the weekend and I was Not Loving It. The sisters wanted to have a gander – fair enough, it is the flagship – so I went along to be polite. And all my suspicions were confirmed. Heaving with identikit females who subscribe wholeheartedly to the fashion-by-numbers system that Topshop proudly nurtures, it was horrible. The place is packed to the rafters with people, clothes, hormones and stress and the sheer size of the place is overwhelming. After one floor, you’re ready to call it quits, but with 5 more to go, you feel obliged to see it through to the bitter end. Shoes, sales, sweets, wigs, make-up, new trends, old trends, designers young and bold, personal shopping, dog walking…the possibilities are endless. But the probability is that you will leave empty-handed, confused and upset. How did this happen Topshop? A combination of market greed and blanket styling has resulted in a dying fashion behemoth that is no longer exciting. Although I won’t lie – I did manage to purchase the most amazing pair of boots. I love them so much, I might just have to buy a second pair to look at.
Had a whirlwind trip over to London and briefly took leave of my senses. Despite having no money to my name (and currently residing in debt-shaped hole the size of next months wages) I somehow managed to come back laden down with obscure and unnecessary trinkets. London does that to you. It is the SuperMassiveBlackHole of the Fashion World, where anything goes and everything’s in. The place vibrates with fashion energy, nurturing everything from the beautiful and the sublime to the ugly and the damned. The city literally beseeches you to experiment and play, and a stroll through any part of the sprawling metropolis is a lesson in fashion liberation. Anyway, ode-to-London aside, I went a little bit bonkers and bought up a few items – fueled entirely by the excitement of seeing so much fashion – on people, in shops…just wafting through the air. I’ll bring ‘em to Show ‘N Tell tomorrow when I have the pics uploaded. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Where once I could have gone months without applying so much as a coat of clear polish, I now have reached the stage whereby I feel naked if I leave the house without painting my talons.
Recently I feel fashion is being a bit of a yawn-fest. The catwalks are mildly exciting (not as exciting as I thought A/W ‘09 was) but two things have struck me in recent weeks…
One of them is that micro-trends are like flash-in-the-pan moments in history nowadays, rather than being fads that manage to last an entire season (anyone remember jade nails being super on trend for about 47 minutes last September?). But that is an topic for another day.
Second of all… as with hair trends this season, anything goes. (Which is a bit of a cop out, no?) Where nail colour is concerned, no one can really agree on what shade is in. Supposedly matte colours have overshadowed their more sparkly counterparts. Then again, gold and silver is still very big in 2010. It all depends on who you want to listen to.
The deadly thing is though, that you don’t have to listen to anyone and go and do what ever the darn-diddly you want to!
My favourite colour of the summer last year was ‘One Perfect Coral’ by Revlon. Over the winter it evolved into a seasonal and very fun red – ‘Double Decker’ by Rimmel. Also, last spring and summer I was obsessed with Chanel’s oh-so-very rock chick navy shade of ‘Blue Satin’. When we headed into the winter months (and in keeping with matte trend), that evolved into ‘Smoke Signal’ by Boots 17. Also I think you can never go wrong with a spot of hot pink, so my choice for the last few years has been ‘Pink Punk’ by Models Own.
Now, out of all these brands, I have to say my favourite all rounder has been the Rimmel nail varnishes. The brush is fantastic so application is a doddle and the consistency of the polish has been fantastic meaning it didnt turn goopy even towards the end of the bottle. When I bought the Chanel varnish, the sales assistant told me that Chanel nail varnish will never go off so long as you keep it away from sunlight and heat. Even before I had a chance to road test its longevity, it had disappointed me on its brush inadequacy. Almost a year later, I find fault with said SA’s claim. It’s quite thick now in consistency and I find myself wondering should I be adding in a drop of nail varnish remover to try and get it more fluid again. In saying that, the shade rocks. There were many imitators, but the original Blue Satin was the ultimate almost-black-but-not-black colour.
I should also add that I have shocking nails. They are the flimsiest of anybody’s I know. They chip, they peel, they split. They do everything that would wreck someone’s head. Because they’re in such bad condition, even the most bulletproof polish on the market would chip on my nails within a few hours.
This has its advantages though. It means I can purchase the cheapest polishes on the market. Seeing as a long-lasting finish isn’t the priority (because that will never happen), it means all I have to do is base my choice on what colour I like best. (I’d never go as cheap as the Miss Sporty bottles though. They’re beyond crap. Avoid!)
So since we’re here, I may as well tell you that the nearest thing to a nail colour trend that will carry you up to the summer months is that of the matte and mute. Essie are doing a range that go from bridal pink to a mushroom brown colour. And hot on their heels is Chanel with their offering.
Whether you follow the trends or flout them with a profane sense of meh, all that’s left to ask is… how do you eat yours?
ok so this post isn’t technically about fashion, just more of a ranting post if you will. some might say i am just being prudish and i should be more liberal to this sort of thing. i say no – i will never be ok about this. yesterday i decided to use my local pool for some easy exercise to help get rid of the inevitable christmas pounds i have acquired over the last few weeks. all grand, do my laps and go to get changed. but WAIT there is a least 10 naked women chatting amongst each other, showering and some appearing to just be standing there taking full advantage of being in the nip. am i the only one that feels a tad uncomfortable in these situations? what is the proper etiquette in nude changing room situations? we should go back to the days of the 1920’s when it was considered an outrage to be seen in anything less than a full length swimsuit! but for now i will keep eyes to the floor and get changed in under 2 minutes while avoiding all conversation starters.
here’s a tip. cycling shorts are back. with a vengeance. last seen in bananarama videos and at mother redcaps flea market in 1988 (also a regular feature on the tour de france circuit), cycling shorts are going to be busting a move all over spring/summer 2010. and you know what? i think i’m in. i’ll tell you why. people automatically recoil in horror at the mere thoughts of fluoro, shiny, skin-tight shorts and i concur. but people, we gotta remember, these historical cycling shorts are a) historical, b) historically paraded about as a key fashion statement and c) historically used for power walking (the sport of the 80’s). the crucial difference with the modern incarnation is that they are accessory and not focus. they can go under skirts, under shorts, under dresses. they shall preserve a bit of modesty, whilst flashing some leg (tights neglect to do this). they come lacey, they come floral, they come in subtle nude tones. they are altogether more subserviant in the greater fashion scheme of things. louis vuitton, prada, louise goldin, DKNY and topshop unique have all given their blessing. and the leggings joke was starting to wear a bit thin non?
Prada
Prada
Louis Vuitton
Afro optional. I’d say optional.
Louis Vuitton
Topshop Unique
Louise Goldin
Louise Goldin
DKNY
with the din of new years eve still ringing in my ears, there are a few things i am coming to terms with in my life. one is that i am a jewellery fetishist. no chain too dangly, no bracelet too jangly and no ring too sparkly…the proverbial magpie. and nothing too discreet. no siree not for me. if coco chanel said always take one item off before you leave the house, i say put at least 3 more on. and the bigger the better. i really embrace costume jewellery, so titled because of its place on the stage, and pat butcher is an idol. for example, i am wearing not one, but four necklaces today. how much jewellery is too much jewellery? when you lose the need for actual clothing, but not a diamond before that.
A sampling of my jewels
my other realisation is that i will never be a teenager again. some might think that a slow dawning, or at odds with my outwardly mature persona, but i really feel, somewhere deep down, time stopped for me at 17. not that it was a particularly great year or a particularly great period (not that it was particularly bad either) but for some reason my mental clock got trapped on the eve of my 17th birthday – i mean i still don’t know what to do when i grow up. i have the same amount of rage and angst and emotion; i’ve just learned to control it in a socially acceptable manner. i still sulk around my parents (they just don’t understand me) and i totally identify with all the cast of twilight.
but since i can’t stomp around scowling and composing verbose soliloquies about the injustice of life, i can channel my inner teenage goth and work some ostentatious jewellery at the same time. check out these bad boys: designer Pamela Love (New York jewellery designer) embraces a darkly macabre theme to her work. skulls, snakes, detailed beating hearts, crows, discarded teeth…the whole gamut of everything that is weird, eccentric and deviant. nothing says angst-ridden like a graphically detailed heart medallion, ventricles and all. so my new years resolution is to wear more jewellery that taps into my inner teenage demons.
tis my first day back in work and something is Not Quite Right. i can’t specify, other than to delete by process of elimination. it’s not that the office is baltic cold and you need thermal underwear to brace the bathroom. it’s not that the holiday period was simply too short and that i feel more stressed than rested. it’s not that my to-do list is already 50 lines long (that’s just my personal one) and i have no diary. it’s something else. something far more sinister. it’s that i have not done any sales shopping. to some, this might seem ridiculous, but to others (me) sales shopping represents the (my) single great revolt against the overwhelming machinations of the fashion industry. for it is here that i duck and dive, pounce and plunder, ripping the beating heart from the giant sartorial monster. i like to sniff out all the clothing pieces paraded around only weeks before at inflated prices and brandish them proudly like a well-heeled robin hood with their slashed tags of 30, 50 and sometimes even 75%. i like to size up the pieces that will work well next year, laughing my way into next season with a bounty of goods. take that Big Fashion Empire, i have outsmarted you once again.
except this time, i haven’t. a combination of festive factors resulted in this sales-free-scenario – not enough time, not enough money, not enough sobriety. and so, here i sit, at work, empty handed, all alone. with my high-speed broadband internet access and a rising feeling of panic, i flick through sites rapidly, only breezily contemplating the discount, the value, the price-per-wear. as we speak, i am trying to convince myself that i need these Ash Brown Thelma Buckle Ankle Boots – reduced from £135 to £94. despite the fact (1) they are not practical for my 20-min walk to work, (2) i just bought a pair of ankle boots and (3) they cost more than i might pay for non-sale shoes, i must have them. do i need the gold lurex bandeau bikini? it is D&G Dolce and Gabbana and i don’t have a D&G bikini, and in fact i don’t have a gold bikini. does it really matter that i have no sun holidays booked? or that when i do, they generally require being covered up in a wetsuit? or what about the Matthew Williamson dress? i don’t really like Matthew Williamson but the Guardian fashion section recommends it as a sales bargain. and it is £397.50 (from £795). and then, those mustard tights in Topshop are only a snip at £1, and those gold bunny ears – £5.00 down from £18.00. what would i do with them? who cares? im beating the system aren’t i? or am i? my sense of perspective has been distorted because i didn’t get my actual january sales hit and now i am contemplating gold lamé bunny ears. there is a moral in there somewhere right?
the Apocalypse is coming, shoes will be the next great bartering tool
Everyone must have a gold lamé bikini, musn't they?
If I have this dress, I will look like her
Mustard tights are nice. Mustard tights are nice. Repeat 10 times
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