Tuesday, July 29, 2008

A Bum Deal

I am notoriously bad with skirts. I am embarrassed to admit that when it comes to clothing my bottom half, my inner Geordie refuses to let me entertain anything that ends more than two inches below my knicker line. I like glorified belts and will concede that anything larger than a pelmet makes me feel like my 80+ year old nana. It's unfortunate and need I say 'tarty' but there is no accounting for taste. Especially not mine.
Hence, I feel that when it comes to making a good impression, I should steer clear of 'la jupe' - full stop. Unless I want to be mistaken for an entirely different genre of working girl as I stumble through the lobby.And so, it's going to have to be trousers - but with so many styles vying for my attention, I feel like I've been hurled headlong into a sartorial minefield.

The high waist shows no sign of losing momentum - and for obvious reasons. I remember vividly lusting after a pair of high-waisted, washed out jeans by Chloe, who kick started the trend seasons ahead of the rest of the fashion pack (S/S '04 to be precise). Eugenia Volodina was a vision of beauty perched precariously atop what appeared to be spindly stilts (but were in fact her seemingly endless legs). Such is the beauty of 'waisted' bottoms. They add inches (vertically) where in reality there may be none.
But, the waist has evolved and long gone are the days when retailers only stocked one waspish option. Now the rails are inundated with 'peg-tops' and 'corset waists' with cinching here and pleats there - no stone has been left unturned.

I must confess, that more recently I have been intrigued by the 'harem' versions that designers are touting. They're more than a bit MC Hammer but, in keeping with my making bad decisions, I'm struggling to see past them. Alas, however, I doubt that looking like an 80's rapper will go down any better than looking like a hooker, so I literally, 'can't touch this'.

Fortunately though (for me anyway) All Saints have played a blinder in the trouser department and when I moseyed around their Newcastle store recently I was bewildered by my options. Almost every pair of trousers had a masculine spin and one in particular even boasted a play on the 'harem/MC Hammer' thing - a 'baggy bottomed' but incredibly chic charcoal grey 'pantalon'. The look was sufficiently nonchalant and 'I borrowed these from my boyfriend' to be sexy, without being too overt. For the office, I would probably pair them with either an incredibly restrictive white shirt, or a good quality t-shirt in a sufficiently drapey fabric. (CC California and James Perse both do great 't-shirts' that are soft as butter and cut to 'fit'). Then, to prevent the overall look from being too severe, I'd add some shoulder grazing earrings, a pink blush and a teased out ponytail. I want to look like I mean business - but not like I'd chop your balls off and feed them to you. There's a happy medium.

The other pair that caught my attention were intimidatingly narrow and navy blue. Whilst I adore black, I do sometimes worry that it's a bit funereal - and come winter I know it'll be about the only colour in my wardrobe. Thus, I think navy offers a refreshing alternative whilst being just as flattering and a lot less bleak.
In fact, I've just bought a pair of dark blue 7/8ths (as that is what those-who-know insist on calling them) from Jigsaw - mainstay of the 'yummy mummy' brigade. Normally I would turn my nose up at the thought of even glancing in the window but my desperate need called for desperate measures and, I will concede that I was surprised enough to walk out the door with a bag bursting with tailored neutrals. Along with afore-mentioned trews, I also picked up a pair of 'hot shot' shorts (the demure alternative to 'hot pants') in a dense linen weave. They sit just above the knee and although not trousers, they've got enough of the androgynous factor to make them worlds better than the dreaded skirt. They tap into the nautical trend that arises every summer (because, of course, I'll skip out of the office and head straight to my yacht in St. Tropez - she's called 'In My Dreams') - but I'm definitely going to avoid the obvious stripe option and instead team them with a shell top, in either a sludgy green or ice blue (it's going to be the only colour to wear come autumn - apart from black). I'll slick on a coral lip (less obvious than red), 'Rouge Noir' nails and silver bangles. I think navy and gold can make one look too much like Captain Birdseye - although, clean shaven - hopefully.


My only other port of call is Reiss who I noticed are currently playing host to pair of skinny black 'ski pants' (Ski Pants_Dinnington 259025). I think the stirrups add an element of humour and make them slightly out of the ordinary. Ultimately, clothes should be fun and I feel that with these, Reiss have struck the right balance between smart and slightly tongue-in-'chic'. (Sorry, I couldn't resist). Check out these and others on their website http://www.reiss.co.uk/catwalk.

Happy Shopping!

Monday, July 28, 2008

The White Stuff

Office wear. Bleurgh! I start sneezing at the very thought. But, alas, there comes a point in most of our lives when blouses and skirt suits cease to be reserved for the specials board and swiftly become the only thing on the menu.

For me, this time is fast approaching and I'm losing my appetite. The thought of shrouding myself in matchy-matchy Maggie Thatcher-esque pin-stripes and blazers makes me feel giddy - (and not in a good 'I've had two glasses of wine and would quite like a third' way)!

And so, it is with more than a degree of trepidation that I begin to weigh up my options.
For starters, we need the basics. I want these to be my failsafe option for days when I try everything on twice, before deciding that I have nothing to wear, only to then pull this outfit on and feel fabulous with two minutes to spare. (I'll put my face on on the train - only to undoubtedly fall into work resembling a well dressed 'Joker').

To begin with I want a pristine white shirt. For me, nothing spells sophistication better than when a woman dresses with a masculine edge. "Pretty" doesn't really sit too well with me and so I'd take the 'drag' option every time. My 'vision' is Diane Keaton in Annie Hall - only ironed.

A pet peeve of mine is when white shirts get messed with. The only ingredients necessary are a great cut, long length and collar so sharp that when 'popped' it poses a health hazard. Say no to frills.

Daphne Guinness apparently got so tired of not being able to find what she wanted that she decided to launch her own collection of capsule items - Daphne - which includes a white shirt for every occassion. Personally, I would take them all but the more rational amongst you can choose for yourself at Dover Street Market. Another great thing about these shirts is that the designer price tag doesn't come hand in hand with designer maintenance. They are built for machine washing and in the words of Daphne herself "the more you wash them the nicer they'll get."

Another designer, making a name for himself at the moment is Todd Lynn - if money was no object I would stockpile this shirt. I know I said that shirts shouldn't be messed with but I'll make an exception with this beauty - Lynn does mess exceptionally well: http://www.matchesfashion.com/catalogue/productdetail/matches_ss08_ladies_tops_toddlynn_16_tl_0004_whi_521

For the more petite amongst you, GAP are always a cert when it comes to shirts and blouses, although if like me, you're long of torso then be sure to try before you buy. I frequently find that the "waist" sits somewhere between my chest and neck.

Alternatively, Brooks Brothers (a sort of T.M Lewin for our friends across the pond) now has a UK fanbase and has responded with an online shop http://www.brooksbrothers.com/uk. Oprah Winfrey (although a somewhat dubious style icon) sang the praises of their 'non-iron' range which features four shapes to flatter all figures. I would opt for the 'tailored fit' which is slim through the body with long shirt tails (ideal for tucking into high waisted bottoms). I admit I was sceptical about the grandiose 'non iron' claim, but I have witnessed first hand that these shirts do exactly what it says on the tin - from dryer to dinner without so much as a whiff of steam.

Or, coming soon to the internet, is Bank and Son - a newly established 'Ladies' and Gentlemen's outfitters' who offer a bespoke service with surprisingly bank friendly prices. These shirts are excellent quality and the joy is that you are able to dictate everything from collar to cuff. I have two and wear them to death. I'll keep you posted on the launch of the website!

...so, armed with the perfect top half, I should at least be able to make it to work looking pseudo presentable from the waist up. That's unless I manage to spill breakfast down me before I arrive - which sadly, is more than a possibility.


Next post: A Bum Deal

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Featuring Detroit


These two songs both not only feature an infamous mid-western city, but also acted as anthems at different points over the last two years. Although definitely not brand new, hopefully they are new to some of you:

Who's Afraid of Detroit?
- Claude VonStroke
Claude VonStroke MySpace


Put your Hands up for Detroit
- Fedde Le Grand
Fedde Le Grande Myspace

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Why I Don't Look at My Bank Statements.

I'm a great believer in 'must-have' items. But that's because I'm greedy and am genuinely convinced that I 'must-have' everything.
For example:
Voice of Reason: "But do you need another pair of textured 'pleather' leggings?"
Me (struggling to comprehend the question): "Why yes! I simply MUST have them!!"

I think, this could go part way to explaining why I am perpetually scraping the bottom of my overdraft and yet, have somehow acquired fourteen pairs of black court shoes (in varying styles obviously), enough 'leather-look' to fill a gimp's wardrobe and, somewhere in the region of thirty-three pairs of jeans.

Oh God. I am officially a monetary menace.

Oh well! At least I can declare myself bankrupt safe in the knowledge that my shoes fit the bill.

M'Orange

When it comes to beauty, I am incredibly unfaithful. I will buy anything that is thrust under my nose, use half the contents and then, succumb to the allure of something else, which does exactly the same job but smells of Jasmine instead of Gardenia.

If the words 'Limited Edition' are involved, then I'll probably take three - only to regret my panic buying when three months down the line, my five unused bottles of nail polish are fermenting in the bottom of my make-up bag - (maybe this is the future of fuel?)

So, upon discovering that orange was the colour on everyones lips this season, I scampered off to MAC to buy into this phenomenon. Admittedly, my primary motivation came in the form of Naomi Campbell looking not too dissimilar to my notion of heaven - all coral pout and tangerine flush - still, just because our skin tones differ by a shade or....fifty, I was determined that I could make this work. My belief was bolstered by the incredibly complimentary MAC ambassador, who assured me that you didn't need an outrageously bad temper nor an army of assistants, to embrace fashion's latest folly.

To his delight, I waltzed away £23 lighter and half a make-up counter heavier.

I am going to experiment with my scarily neon blusher and await the verdict of my two year old neice. If she cries, I'll chuck it along with the nail polish and potentially resolve the oil crisis. It definitely has more than a hint of the radioactive...

An Enigma on Bridge Street...

I am an huge admirer of figurative painters, largely because my own artistic abilities begin and end with bowls of fruit and the occasional stick dog/cat/rabbit (it's all in the ears).

Thus, I was immediately drawn to the latest exhibition at my local gallery which is currently playing host to Tristan Reid.

While not all of his paintings moved me, I was transfixed by the one entitled 'Nightingale' - A girl stands, toes turned in, hands clasped, wearing an almost indecipherable expression on her handsome face. Her stance closes her off from the spectator, as if she inhabits the canvas and holds there a secret she is unwilling to share. One feels as though one has stumbled across a doorway into another world, and the painting's sombre subject is an unwelcoming gatekeeper.

Dressed entirely in black (very A/W '08), she is in stark contrast to the ochre backdrop - and the effect is haunting. She is alone but for a Nightingale (a reference to 'The Nightingale and the Rose' - by Oscar Wilde) and the viewer is at a loss to interpret her troubled gaze. Sadness? Concern? Disappointment? Reid has succesfully captured a wealth of emotion with his studied brushstrokes and I only wish I had the wealth to take her home and study her at leisure.

To view more of Reid's paintings, visit his website: http://www.tristanreidpaintings.com/

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Confessions of a Psychiatrist: Cocaine in Crafts Corner

Dr Max had a patient who had had come to him with a number of woes, one of which was quite apparently ADD. Before he was able to prescribe her any medications, she informed him that she had a habit of snorting cocaine.

For many psychiatrists it is normal to come across patients who are self medicating; it is also no mystery to psychiatrists and chemists that cocaine has a very similar chemical structure to the commonly prescribed ADD medicine, Ritalin. Both amphetamines the effects of these chemicals can be compared, even though cocaine's extremely fast acting euphoric high is only the beginning of what makes it an infamous class A narcotic.

When home alone, she would snort her coke and keep her cross-stitching close by, her high activity of choice. She said it would help her relax being able to focus on her craft.

One can only imagine how furiously.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

In Case of Emergency...

On what was proving to be another typically blustery Northumbrian day, I awaited my seven year old nephew in the school yard (desperately hoping that I wasn't going to be mistaken for his mother - I would have been all of fourteen when he was born). It was while I was standing there willing myself younger and thinner, that my attention was caught by what appeared to be a faceless, trouserless pair of legs, that on further inspection emerged as a decidedly windswept mother.

Her comment as she hurtled past me was something along the lines of "Thank Christ I'm not wearing my old grey knickers with the frayed elastic!" - or at least that's what I translated it as - for before she could finish she disappeared once more under a froth of pink skirt hem, exposing what I deduced to be a very well chosen pair of Agent Provocateur smalls.

Which got me thinking - while it seems like a great idea to squeeze ourselves into some butt busting, stomach sucking, uplifting all-in-one; there could be nothing more mortifying than exposing your flesh coloured miracle worker in the unforgiving light of day.
I began frantically trying to remember which pants I'd grabbed from the drawer that morning, when it dawned on me - I put so much consideration into my outerwear (well, on the rare occasion that I can be bothered), and yet I consistently spend no time what-so-ever contemplating what lies beneath. What if I got hit by a bus? I would actually DIE if the Northumberland Fire Department had to whisk me off to A&E sporting my Christmas knickers.

Which is why I've currently set my sights on this newest offering from Myla -
Cost of one ridiculousy impractical set of underwear - £178
Smug satisfaction when your skirt blows over your head - priceless.




Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Extremely What?

Following on from the success of 'Everything is Illuminated' Jonathan Safran Foer's second literary foray is a tragi-comic work of genius. Narrated by the eternally inquisitive, marginally autistic Oskar Schell, the novel documents his extremes of emotion as he wrestles to come to terms with the death of his father in the attacks of 9/11.
Far from being your average nine year old boy, Oskar is a cynic, a pragmatist, a scientist - he fills his daybook 'Things That Happened To Me' with countless images snapped with his grandfather's camera. He scours the internet to find answers to his unending string of questions and writes letter after letter to his hero, Stephen Hawking.
And so it is, that following the accidental discovery of a mysterious key, Oskar, dressed only in white, embarks on a quest to discover which of New York's 162 million locks it unlocks - certain that success will somehow bring him closer to his absent father and help him to understand why he can't be where he is. However, during his travels through New York and the five boroughs it plays host to, Oskar finds that his mission takes him on a journey through much more than just districts...
'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close' handles the tragedy of September 11th with great sensitivity, and it's lead protagonist becomes a beacon of hope in the aftermath of disaster. Oskar wears 'heavy boots', he gives himself bruises and repeatedly meets with obstacles and yet, as he meanders through the streets of the story, his boots gradually become lighter, along with his heart.

'I moved over to Grandma's side of the limosuine and told Mom, "Why would I need a key to her apartment?" She could tell that I was zipping up the sleeping bag of myself, and I could tell that she didn't really love me. I knew the truth, which was that if she could have chosen, it would have been my funeral we were driving to. I looked up at the limosuine's sunroof, and I imagined the world before there were ceilings, which made me wonder; Does a cave have no ceiling, or is a cave all ceiling?'

Saturday, July 12, 2008

mY Style Legend

Trend whore, fashion victim... just a few of the 'affectionate' titles I've been honoured with over the years. Still, while I can accept that I have had a myriad of fashion disasters, I am a firm believer in the notion that sometimes, in order to get on the best dressed list, you have to prepare to end up on the worst. Hence my dalliance with a purple jumpsuit (very Barney the dinosaur), a monochrome animal print shirt (featuring leopard, zebra and snakeskin), and, in my earlier days, a well loved pair of acid orange dip dyed flares.

Still, these sartorial catastrophes have not deterred me in my quest to find the ugliest items I possibly can and attempt to pull them off with aplomb.
Hence, with Yves Saint Laurent endorsing black lipstick and bowl haircuts, I am already clamouring to get my hands on some midnight pout perfector and have been apprehended on several occasions, hazardously wielding a pair of pruning scissors with a pudding basin plonked determinedly on my head. Still, for those of you who are not quite as fearless (aka. stupid) as I, Stefano Pilati's latest collection for Yves has much to be admired - the kind of classic creations that can be worked into any wardrobe.

Black is once again, the new black and yet, far from being funereal, Pilati has fashioned an ensemble for every occasion. From beautifully tailored 'power' suits, through to the perfect winter coat, his pieces are structured but feminine - gone are the hardened 'warrior woman' silhouettes we've seen in previous seasons - this time around, it's all about wearing the trousers, but knowing it's okay to take them off.


A Lesson in Love


I watched the Julie Delpy film 'Two Days In Paris' last night and was astonished to discover that the character she plays is almost as irrational as me.

"It has always fascinated me how people go from loving you madly to nothing at all, nothing. It hurts so much. When I feel someone is going to leave me I have a tendency to break up first before I get to hear the whole thing. Here it is. One more, one less. Another wasted love story. I really love this one. When I think that it's over, that I'll never see him again like this...well yes, I'll bump into him, we'll meet our new boyfriend and girlfriend, act as if we had never been together, then we'll slowly think of each other less and less until we forget each other completely. Almost. Always the same for me. Break up, break down. Drunk up, fool around. Meet one guy, then another, fuck around. Forget the one and only. Then after a few months of total emptiness start again to look for true love, desperately look everywhere and after two years of loneliness meet a new love and swear it is the one, until that one is gone as well. There's a moment in life when you can't recover any more from another break-up. And even if this person bugs you sixty percent of the time, well you still can't live without him. Even if he wakes you up every day by sneezing right in your face, well you love his sneezes more than anyone else's kisses."

Friday, July 11, 2008

P.S.



These are what I am currently hankering after. They should tide me through to the autumn with a more than moderate dose of discomfort.

No pain. No gain.

Best Foot Forward

So, with the British summertime having been and gone in a matter of days, I couldn't help but get excited thinking about the season ahead. I've scarcely dared to look at a pair of flip-flops this year for fear of torrential rain, so what better way to while away the hours indoors than by planning what to wear when the collections are more weather appropriate? Cue: Givenchy, Calvin Klein and YSL. Or, in other words, Sartorial heaven.

All three of these big hitters featured looks I LOVED on their A/W '08 runways. From Annie Hall-esque masculine chic, to Morticia Adams meets Jane Austen, their silhouettes were diverse, injecting some much needed variation to the winter wardrobe. Strucutre is back, heralding the end of flitting around like a fairy in a dress printed with....fairies? (Prada, I love you, but you're bringing me down).

At Givenchy, models stalked down the catwalk looking pretty but petulant, clad almost entirely in black. Givenchy coupled skintight 'treggings' (I hate the term but what other word is there?) in both matt black leather and high gloss PVC, with elaborate black shirts or the merest suggestion of chiffon. The outline was top heavy, creating the illusion of endless legs and a bust where there otherwise may not be one (myself being a case in point). Just add a crucifix and an healthy dose of hedonism and you're good to go!




Next Post: Yves Saint Laurent...




Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Off Duty Da(y)te Wear

http://store.americanapparel.co.uk/rsapm302.html#i


The tulip came and conquered the catwalks a couple of seasons ago and, unlike it's contemporaries the cocoon and the cape, the tulip has endured the test of time and continues to make regular appearances on the catwalks. For Autumn/Winter '08, the tulip shape was seen in collections by Balenciaga, Stella McCartney and Giambattista Valli, to name just a few. The emphasis of the season being on shape and structure; in stark contrast to the ethereal romanticism we witnessed in the Spring/Summer collections.


To incorporate the tulip shape into your weekend wardrobe, a casual skirt such as this one from American Apparel, is the perfect item to work for both your day and evening looks. For day, dressed down with a loose-fitting t-shirt, tucked in and cinched with a wide waisted belt, this skirt can look casually nonchalant. For evening, up the stakes by coupling it with a skimpy vest or body and switching the flats for some killer statment heels. A cummerband in a contrasting colour could further enhance your fashion credentials - Jil Sander's collection was a blur of acid brights. Or, to be ahead of the trends, do a Madonna and pull on some black lace fingerless gloves. Lace is a key theme for the coming season.

My Latest Lust Object

Now, for those of you who know me, this will not come as a surprise. However, for those of you unfortunate enough to have never experienced me and my extensive collection of 'pleather' goods, this may not immediately strike you as a sartorial winner.

Let me highlight the benefits of this little number.
1) It's wipeable - so you don't need to panic if you spill anything on it.
2) It makes you feel like catwoman - who doesn't want to look like a character from a comic book?
3) It's 100% synthetic - the look of leather with no meaningless animal slaughter. Stella McCartney would be proud.
4) It's just cool.

Here you go. Now behold the joy of American Apparel at their best.

http://store.americanapparel.co.uk/rsac343.html#i

P.S. If any AA representative happens to stumble across this post, please advise your in house designers that a 'pleather' catsuit would go down a storm. Much obliged.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Active Resistance to Propaganda

Vivienne Westwood is a visionary...

Check out her manifesto at http://www.activeresistance.co.uk/index2.htm

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Tribute to the Sunsetpeople

If you are a fan of minimal techno, then you cannot beat M.A.N.D.Y. vs. Booka Shade:

New: Oh Superman (Tribute To Sunsetpeople)

Old: Body Language

Confessions of a Psychiatrist: The Swallower

There is an infamous patient in a hospital far away known to most of the staff as the Swallower. Our psychiatrist, Dr. Max, was called into the Swallower's hospital room on what could be considered an almost routine check to speak with the patient and ascertain exactly what they had eaten before coming to the emergency room this time.

It was protocol that the Swallower would have to remain in the hospital until whatever they had consumed was expelled. They had been known to ingest a variety of things (usually cutlery), but on this particular occasion they had swallowed a watch.

On his rounds after visiting the Swallower's hospital room, Dr Max turned to a resident on his right hand and casually asked, 'Why does this patient have to remain in the hospital?'

The resident paused while their brain flooded with possibilities, and the anxiety of being put on the spot took over, as it seemed doctors, students and nurses stared. He stammered.

Dr Max answered his own question, 'They are just passing time.'

Saturday, July 5, 2008

An Alcoholic's Wisdom

'Fake it till you make it.'

'[Chin up] One day at a time.'

'Let go and let God.'

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

June 28th

Leaving and Leaving You

When I leave your postcode and your commuting station,
When I left undone all the things we planned to do
You may feel you have been left by association
But there is leaving and leaving you.

When I leave your town and the club that you belong to,
When I leave without much warning or much regret,
Remember, there's doing wrong and there's doing wrong to
You, which I'll never do and I haven't yet,

And when I have gone, remember that in weighing
Everything up, from love to a cheaper rent,
You were all the reasons I thought of staying,
And none of the reasons why I went

And although I leave your sight and I leave your setting,
And our separation is soon to be a fact,
Though you stand beside what I'm leaving and forgetting,
I'm not leaving you, not if motive makes the act.

Sophie Hannah