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.