50 shades of wool

So today was hotter than I was expecting, hence all the damn wool. Anyway I spent my day with the lovely Roary today (with Guest appearance in the shape of Mandy). We spent a day doing his art project and by we i mean I, it's sewing you see, and when it comes to textiles I'm am to fabric what ghostbusters are to phantoms. Who you gonna call ? ME.

Anyway we had time for a quick shoot, and Roary, being his artistic self insisted of "leaning-against-the-wall-with-a-sombre-expression" sort of look. And me being as self obsessed as I am, complied... enjoy.

Skirt- Home sewn

Jacket- thrifted

Shirt- GAP (mans shirt)

Socks- Marks and Spencer

Black Back pack- gift

If there's one thing I love its a knee high sock... their great I feel girly whislt simultaneously not having shaved my legs- wonderful.

I love this look cause its Smart caj, that thing i usually cannot do. 

little advise though- do not wear when it's 24 degrees

thanks for reading x

Grand dogs

A couple of weeks ago I went round Mary's to complete part 2 of our ongoing seeing bee. As usual her house was blessed with the expected enthusiastic relative. Luckily for me this week we were blessed with a long list friend of the family living in New Zealand and currently mid way around her 2 month tour of Europe.

"Ooh" she says "Venice was absolutely lovely, all the rivers and such" 

Wonderful I thought this is perfect for my blog.

She proceeded to coo over Lizzie, Mary's jack russell, "oh" she said tearing up a bit "he reminds me of my...... My... My little grand dogs" 

Mary's mum is obviously confused at this statement, and rightly so, "it's a she" she interjects "and um ..... " poor Mary's mum reddens with embarrassment for this brazen women before her "what's a grand dog?"

"Oh, well you know, my daughters dogs...." To reiterate her point "she doesn't  have children" shock.

This brazen women's name escapes me so I'll call her Sandra, she looked like a Sandra. 

"Here, in enlgand,  we don't have grand dogs" possibly the most wonderful sentence ever to have escaped anyone lips.... This from Mary's mum.

The conversations developed further until a rather fascinating story involving a mild stroke and Facebook was relayed. It transpired that Sandra's husband had had a mild stroke (though she had no way of knowing it was mild at the time) whilst they were out in a wildlife reserve. As the paramedics arrived, Sandra withdrew her IPhone and began snapping pictures of her semi paralysed husband as he was carried away on a stretcher. "Excuse me ma'am, bit you can't take photos of casualties" the paramedic had rightly reminded her.

Her response was delivered to the room in which sat her husband, Mary's mum, Mary and myself with that sort if laughter supported speech that causes the speaker to speak each word as if they are a beginning a new sentence "And..... Then.... I.... Said ..... It's..... Ok.... He's.....My ..... Husband"

Rightly so the paramedic was slightly taken aback, frantically trying to recall wether spousal relations was tackled on that day he missed 'civilian relations training'. He let her continue "in just tKing photos to remember this day ..... And put it on Facebook" this brazen red faced women exclaimed. The paramedic turns away, he has no time for this shit. 

The insinuations here is that it is ok to take photos of a dying man, as he is whisked away to hospital, to post of social media.... As long as that man is your husband. 

 As I sat listening to Sandra honk with laughter I couldn't help bit wonder, is it really the youth with which modern technology can not be entrusted, or is it infact just middle aged New Zealanders who we should restrict? I ask you.

Thanks for reading x

 

All Tartaned up

Sorry forts of all for my lack of post on Wednesday, I have been in Edinburgh for the past week and as anyone of you who has previously been, will have experienced, it got a little distracted. No matter. 

First things first I am thrilled this week after getting my GCSE results and getting 11A*'s yay (while everyone politely ignores the fact that GCSE's are a pointless qualification). Anyway I've also been swanning round Edinburgh with my good friend Remi. It's been all romantic meals out, comedy stand up and trying to get served. 

Here's a couple of examples at my attempt to respect the local culture, tartaned up:

Here's me first in the national museum taking a break from sweaty comedians. Pairing the tartan with a white shirt and pink platforms as well as my yellow mac (one can never be safe in Scotland)

Shirt: Jeff banks 

Mac: Hobbs 

Skirt: homesewn

Platforms: schuh 

Lipstick: MAC in "rebel"

Tights: new look

Bag: gift 

Earrings: topshop 

A little lore tartan, this time in full length form, warm and modest. Here I'm in the botanical gardens.

This time paired with a yellow batwing jumper and a pair of comfy brogues (not that they can be seen) 

Jumper: topshop

Skirt: homesewn

Lipstick: MAC in "vivaglam1" 

Thanks for reading x 

Black and blue: an affair in monochrome

London bound once again today, this time to drop Laura off at St Pancreas.

Last night we stayed at Amy's, drinking beer, discussing fashion do's and don'ts.

Enormous bags were lugged up and down tubes, then we did the oxford/ regents street circuit. Stopping off in the apple store to chat to a distractinly good looking Genius. 

So this week- my affair with monochrome, set off with a dash of YSL fushia and my beloved powder blue Chelsea boots.

Posing in front of the live wall in Anthropologie, after mewing after the to-die-for, crockery.

Black jeans: Zara

Jacket: Zara 

Boots: Wonder

Bag: Clarks 

Shirt: modified (cropped) Jeff Banks 

Lipstick: Yeves Saint Laurent 

More on Wednesday 

Thanks for reading x

Lusting after the 60's

So the sixties are everywhere at the moment, vogue keeps banging on about them and then Asos joined in the chorus so finally I gave in (hard as it was) and thought I'd go back in time this week.

At the same time my friend Laura from Belgium is still residing with us, and I felt it only polite to offer her a spot on the very valuable platform that is the internet. 

Here's the both of us me in sixties get up and her painfully 2014 look, in boyfriends and a cropped Breton looking impeccably European chique.

This look demands neutral lips and statement eyes blue is preferable with thick kohl and the iconic sixties flick. 

Dress- home sewn 

Shoes (granted are not terribly sixties) Clarks

Bag- thrifted 

Earrings- V&A gift shop 

Nail colour- topshop 

  

Jeans- Zara 

Heels- new look

Top- Urban Outfitters

Sunglasses- Ray Bans 

Nail varnish- topshop matte 

Thanks for reading more on Wednesday 

X

The chihuahua, the señorita and the hombre

At the bottom of our wonderfully un-middle class road, there lies a semi detached house. And within that semi detached house there resides a chihuahua , an hombre and a señorita. 

The chihuahua  is clearly master of his abode, by day he looks out from his perch at the window and out onto the world beyond it, his wise expression contemplating the very meanings of existence. Only when he is so told by the almighty powers will he sagely cock his head in order to observe a new perspective. 

His interaction with the outside world consist only of his daily walks. At these times the chihuahua allows himself to shed his steely exterior and once again join his wordly peers in manner. 

Now the problem is that chihuahua  has two worldly manners and which one is resumed upon leaving the house depends on who is walking him. With the señorita chihuahua  is grumpy, stubborn and miserable looking, pulling on his lead with piteously feel me strength. He dislikes the señorita or worse she is embarrassing to him. Here he is the mighty chihuahua, macho and respected lead like a.... Like a dog!! By this señorita! leggings and Uggs and fag and all. How humiliating for such an honourable beast, thus he walks with his tail between his legs dragged across road and field, looking idly back across the way they have come, whilst the señorita enthusiastically throws some yellow fuzzy thing. She tries at least, he thinks sorrowfully.

Now when he is with the hombre, that's different. That's where he belongs, this macho hombre who let's chihuahua lead the way, as it should be. Thankfully chihuahua doesn't notice the bred embarrassed expression on the hombres face, doesn't see him sheepishly lowerng his head as he is dragged along by this over eager little lap dog. Chihuahua doesnt hear the silent argument as the hombre begs the señorita not to make him a laughing stock again. 

But chihuahua is happy with his hombre and hopefully he will never know about the destain felt toward him, and hopefully the señorita will never know about the distain felt toward her. 

The end.

There's a little fable for you kids, can you find the moral ?  

Thanks for reading, more on Sunday 

The kingdom of IKEA

Went to IKEA  with the madre last weekend to buy myself a Billy (Bookcase).  It got me to recognise the ridiculousness of this shopping experience: imagine the boardroom conversations... 

"Right, so basically it's a furniture store" (whatever that is in sweedish" 

Silence.

"But it's all laid out like hundreds of little houses, and customers have to follow  his winding arrow road to get round the whole shop"

Silence.

And you have to mark down the number of what you want... Then find it in a gigantic warehouse underneath the store"

Silence.

"Except, and this is where it gets interesting, there's like.... Meatballs as well" 

At which point of course the entire boardroom erupted in raucous applause... Oh the genius. 

To be honest it sounds like the sort of thing one might come up with at that certain point of  drunkeness.

Looking around me I wondered what these millennia of advancements of human civilisation had accomplished, but I have not lost my faith inhumanity, quite the opposite. What a wonderful world where we do not all concentrate on our oncoming demise but rather go out and buy a flat pack chest of drawers.

3014, the world we know is dead, like the people of Pompeii our civilisation lies in ruins, cities turned to rumble or burried under laters of ash from nuclear explosions. A single man digs into the scorched earth with a primitive looking shovel.... A flash of yellow.... Then of blue

"Hey guys" he'll say in whatever universal language has been adopted, he squints as he brushes away the dust "I" he reads out loud. "I..... Think it's a letter.. TELL PETER WE'VE FOUND SOMETHING!!" 

Whole teams of men are rounded up and after weeks of digging a whole frighteningly yellow word appears "IKEA".

Further months of digging reveals whole colonies of people seemingly hudled around structures of charcoled kitchen cabinets, pint sized beds and strangely large shopping trolleys. 

And even more oddly, this giant cuboid of a garish blue building encloses  preserved families, crystallised forks midair and at the end of those forks.... "Peter it's so weird, we have so much to learn about who we were, I mean what are they all doing in that ... Box?!? It's much more complicated that I ever could have imagined" 

Peter looks bored

"They were all eating what looks like fossilised  .... Meatballs !!"

At this Peter sits back in his chair, all those years in the future, he shakes his head, takes off his glasses... "Meatballs ?!?" He mutters

"That's  genius" 

This is what I imagine as I watch legging clad limbs, we cannot choose how we will be remembered, as an individual or as a people, but I ,for one, hope against all hope that's it's for meatballs.

Thanks for reading 

X 

More on Sunday 

Sunny side up

My best friend form Congo arrived yesterday.... From Belgium. Without wishing any further complications on the matter here's a quick breakdown: 

I lived in the "democratic" republic of  Congo for 6 years 

DRC was previously a Belgium colony this there were many Belgium expats living out there 

I met Laura, whose dad worked out there 

I moved back to England in 2006

She moved back to Brussels 3 days later 

We meet up every summer for a fortnight either I go to Belgium or she comes here.

So she arrived at St Pancreas yesterday and after having hauled her gigantic case into mothers car, we made the most of the afternoon to get in some much needed retail therapy.  

So here's my little Urban Outfitters purchase.... I'm going with crazy pattern clash... With purple platforms to keep it edgy.

Jacket- Urban Outfitters

Trousers- Zara 

Platforms- Schuh

Belt and vest - H&M

Ring- River Island 

Musings on Wednesday

Thanks for reading X