cord and confessions

For some time now I've been ignoring an irksome niggle at the back of my head but it's become too loud and I'm having to come out of the closet and confront who I really am. I don't like shopping. I don't know how this happened to me but I really truly don't. Maybe this should be confined to 'high street shopping' where I feel overwhelmed and self conscious and overheated. Meandering though the rails in a second hand shop to a soundtrack most likely to consist of Waterloo Sunset by the Kinks (over time I've noticed it seems to be a Generic Vintage Shop Favourite) really isn't so bad and if you throw into the equation an undercrowded shopfloor and maybe a couple of fellow customers in inspiring get-ups and strategically placed coffee/cake breaks it can be a very joyful experience but otherwise I'd sooner stay at home and do it online with a plate of cheese on toast at my elbow.

I would wonder what was going through my mind when I thought a visit to the Arndale centre on a Saturday for a spot of lunchtime shopping a good idea but clearly my 'hate shopping' policy wasn't cemented when I woke up today. Although I was unsuccessful in finding the Navy 420 New Balance trainers I'd been after, I must award recognition to Topshop as I came across this gem of a button down cord skirt in a rusty colour which acted as the silver lining to the whole experience. 

Note the slightly eery low-light pictures of said skirt which I took while babysitting earlier. Yes, I am 19 and I still babysit. I have run this by friends to check that it's still legit. The conversation usually follows this template: 'Guys, is there an age in which it will be unacceptable for me to babysit? Or did it pass when I turned 15 and no one was polite enough to say?' The general consensus is usually 'dude, hold onto that biscuit tin and tv remote rourine for as long as possible, I'm jealous.' and I must admit that I love babysitting and in a Peter Pan way hope I never grow up just so I may continue. Luckily some friends of my Dad live in Manchester so I may watch Robin Hood (the Disney version with it's soundtrack to end all Disney soundtracks) with their 4 year old and leaf through the books in their cosy house. And escape grubby student kitchens for a few precious hours. Bliss.

And now to Edwyn Collins who has filled my brain with this tune all day:

that's what she said

picture scanned by gossiping on TFS.

I don't know why it came as a surprise to hear these words come from Alexa Chung's mouth, as if she is some sub-human species whose life is void of wardrobe crises, but well, it did. 

On how she gets dressed: Sometimes I've seen someone rad in the street or I try to assemble my version of their outfit. Or I'll have watched a movie that inspired me, usually from the 1960s. Sometimes it's just what's clean and available.

Oh jeez Louise, she's just like us. She comes across very well (again, hardly a surprise is it?) interviewed by the brilliant Avril Mair in the November issue of UK ELLE, more grown up and content, less of the self deprecation but still plenty of enthusiasm for pony skin floppy hats and Barbour jackets.

fruit loops

While it is said that 'all good things must come to an end', I would like to argue that a year off simply does the trick for the better things in life. Michael Eavis gives the Glastonbury fields a year off out of every five to allow them some R&R and February 29th parties so hard each leap year that it takes 3 years of chilltime just to get back on track. But before I get carried away with statistics and tenuous links it gives me much pleasure to predict that 2011 will be the year in which florals can finally enjoy some downtime, packed away on a high shelf somewhere for a summer sabatical. And filling the pattern void will instead be fruits. Stella McCartney's Spring 2011 citrus prints provided some relief resembling no-nonsense Fruitella sweet wrappers which in my mind signify long car journeys and are quite the opposite of the fizzy florals we've seen in every high street shop for at least 4 years straight. Compared to these bold and leafy watermelon prints the itsy-bitsy florals feel a little silly and simply won't cut it for another summer. I'm looking forward to scouting some big banana prints ala that old See by Chloe top donned by Moss in the picture or attaching a couple of pineapple fridge magnets to a turban headband for some Carmen Miranda style beach headwear. But to be worn in an incredibly austere way, you must understand. Black capri pants and hardy leather sandals and maybe even a slightly inappropriate-for-summer mohair jumper. Think Wednesday Adams, Carmen Miranda and Betty Draper and you're someway there..

olympia and camille

A little snap of supercool!superfrench! stylist Camille Bidault-Waddington mid lookbook shoot for Olympia Le-Tan, the Queen of handbags dressed as hearty books. You should most certainly check out Olympia's blog for a look at bookshelves scattered with Moomin memorabilia and general bespectabled Gallic coquettish fun.

open your heart, open your purse

'flowers in the attic' tee by Sophomore and an oh-so-pretty pink nail varnish in 'kiss and tell' by Topshop.

d-r-e-a-m-y.

utilising pockets

Yesterday afternoon I spent an hour or so lying with Jim on the grassy bank that lies between each of our halls of residence. With the knowledge that my first wet and windy North West winter is just around the corner, it would be rude not to venture out and enjoy the crisp October sunshine which Manchester has been blessed with this week. We talked about a few things, the fact that the aloof games girls and boys play with each other are tedious but gloriously tantalising too. And our thoughts on Manchester a month after moving here. And tomato ketchup and grated cheddar as a lazy pasta sauce (I was eating it at the time.) And also pockets.

Jim spoke about how over the past year he's been wearing shirts more and more and that he loves the practicality of having a chest pocket. When he traveled last year he would use it to store his tobacco and a notebook and any little essentials he needed to keep close by. But he feels like too much of a twat to repeat this little storage system when it comes to University, fearing the pretentious 'look, I smoke and I think' image that a notebook in a chest pocket gives off. During the course of this conversation I realised how much I really do love pockets and I suppose that this post has little purpose except to reiterate this. Lovely deep warm pockets big enough to store treasures or frosty fingers in wintertime. This photograph, taken by the brilliant Maya of Turned Out of the Spring 2011 Karen Walker collection only cements this pocket appreciation. Deep and pleasingly square they invite you to leave your handbag at home and carry those few essentials. As somebody who has admitted to having a bit of a Mary Poppins bag complex (see the 'Baggage Analysis' post below) I'm going to take a leaf out of Jim's book and utilise my pockets.

uk vogue november 2010

 

images, tfs.

I want to spend my weekends nonchalantly reading reference books beside vases of peonies or bundled up in a leopard print jacket sipping juice or with a grin as wide as lara stone's. but what's secretly even nicer is lazing around with a piping hot cup of tea and the new issue of vogue and instead simply daydreaming about doing these things without having to move.

sevigny saturday

Just thinking aloud here but still now, months down the line after she chopped her hair, I'm still marvelling at how wonderful Chloe Sevigny looks with shorter locks. It's just the sort of hair cut (but naturally it's also very much down to the woman) that makes me want to blindly follow, lop a couple of inches of my own hair and dip it all into peroxide. Easy, now..

These are some photographs to accompany the behind-the-scenes video of the Bean Pole x Band Of Outsiders collaboration shoot.

If like me, you're impartial to watching a favourite style icon in action alongside a Kinks soundtrack then I recommend you skip to 6.20 into the video. and that fuzzy yellow hood!

source credit to chloe-sevigny.org.

baggage analysis

ah, lovely lovely carefree bags.. from delightlyfully purpose-friendly Baggu's to Elisabeth's Margaret Howell number.

To me bag shopping is a task that will never cease to be difficult. It's just as relentless as it was in that frantic last week of August when I was at school and faced with finding that oxymoronic 'cool school bag' in time for the new term. 

I always lump bag shopping in the same category as jeans shopping (though thankfully am yet to find myself crying in a fitting room over something to carry my crap in..) but I can never quite understand why. Why is it that I am so sure of how I wish to look when it comes to clothes and yet so indesivive and clueless when it comes to something in which to carry my everyday loot. There is the issue of flashiness; I find it hard to find a bag on the High Street that doesn't come with completely unnecessary embellishment. Then there is practicality-I would quite happily carry a fabric tote around on my shoulder until the end of time if it wasn't for the rain factor. I spent last winter inflicting misery onto myself by carrying one out of complete laziness and fear of embarking on a bag quest. I would not wish such a lot of fuss onto anybody else as there are only so many times you can wear your bag inside your coat to protect your treasures being soaked through a non-waterproof fabric before you go insane. After a good couple of years of using fabric tote bags (and shoving everything into their one and only sections) you also start to completely appreciate the notion of pockets. They become a luxury. 'Three pockets!? Think of the opportunity for organisation! Pens here, a small tin of vaseline there! And oh look, I can zip my keys into here!'

I've also got to the stage of accepting that I find it difficult to minimise on baggage. I fall into that Mary Poppins category and a peek into my bag reveals I'm one of those 'what if..?' people who would rather haul a heavy camera, moleskin, countless pens, waterbottles and books than risk going without for a day. It's for this reason that a big bag suitable for shoving has become my go-to, I can think about the state of my shoulders when I'm through to the other side of life that prioritise revolves chiropractor fees over student loans. In reaction to all of this bag-alysis I'm having a bit of a moment of leaning towards simple bags that are well, personality free. The more simple and industrial looking, the better. A Chinese laundry bag, a similar plastic model that my Granny picked up in a Dutch department store, my Topshop Unique tote (hey, I'm not quite ready to let go of totes yet..) and an old black LeSportsac bag (the holy grail in sporty, simple, fuss free bags) are all on delicious rotation while I hold out for that perfect pocketed number.. 

topshop unique

the topshop unique ss11 show in five pictures:

I've got to say this season's Topshop Unique show left me more than a little baffled. I'm all in favour of a brand that marches to the beat of it's own drum during a week when collections can merge and blur into the a seamless look but the apparent footballers-wives-meets-70s-vegas-trashstar reference point was lost on me. There was however a rather spectacular woolen plum leotard that caught my eye and as usual the show was fun in itself especially as this year the Blogger turnout seemed to be unbelieveable with a whole load of familiar faces taking up a cosy corner beside the runway. Susie,  Miggy, Laetitia, Lisa Corneliusson, Coco, Disney Roller Girl, Shini, Liberty London Girl and Emma Sells from Elle UK were sitting all around, snapping away on cameras with Laetitia's gorgeous two-tone hair catching the eye of all. I also had a strange exchange with a famished Tim Blanks while we patiently waited in a queue for the pre-show scandinavian fishy appetisers. He was fishing (literally) bits of salmon from the bin at the elbow of the servers with murmurs of 'nothing wrong with this bit!' and 'well, while I wait.. it's not like it's off..' much to the amusement of those standing around him. The change in location from the usual Topshop Space just off Baker Street to the old Eurostar terminal at Waterloo Station was also a great talking point; the great windows and views of a drab 70s office block made a wonderful backdrop for the models's glittering clothes, even if I wasn't so keen on what they wore..