Londoner’s know how to pose. Certain parts of the city’s inhabitants are naturals at nonchalance. Shoreditch natives and the herds of tourists it attracts need little in the way of art direction. Point a camera at them and they’ll do the rest.
Back in the day when fag breaks were fag breaks jobbing blog fodder was part of the deal making the set up easier. A point and a nod would suffice for communication purposes. Cool minimalists to the core.
Hats off to this young ‘un for unabashedly ticking all boxes in the rock canon wardrobe and getting away with it!
I like New York in June
How about you?
I like a Gershwin tune
How about you?
I was back in my all time favourite city for six sweltering days recently. It was as I’d always experienced it crazy, hot, and fizzing with magic. And inspiring. I walked and walked till my feet swelled up all third trimester like. I greedily sucked in all the energy and sights not knowing when I’d be back there. This series was taken headed uptown into Time Square at rush hour. It doesn’t get more hectic than that or more vibrant.
I have been busy with other projects lately one of which is having my hair cut. Sad as it my seem this does require a lot of me and usually involves endless research, equivocation and procrastination. The perm is gone and I am happily sporting a short sleek style with no trace of those troublesome curls. I will post pix in the near future. Promise!
I have also been doing some exploring and would like to share some style, attitude and inspiration from my travels.
This St Patrick’s day was celebrated in style at The Forum in Kentish Town. Irish superstar and style icon Imelda May and fashionista Aisling Conboy enjoy the backstage vibes after The Damien Dempsey show.
Italians do it better. I can’t argue with you on that one Madonna. Elegant solo diner snapped on a Venetian back street. March 2012.
I finally made it down to Brighton a couple of weeks ago and managed to pick the wettest day for it. The prom was alive with day-trippers and locals and made for a lively spectacle none the less.
To round of what has been something of a watershed year for myself I thought I’d share my
personal wardrobe highlights of 2011. This one comes in close to the top at number 3.
Cool abstract expressionist jacket. Why go to a gallery when you can be one? This arty item was my sartorial conversation starter for the year. Many the unlikely . character including a surprising amount of genuinely approving males stopped me to compliment me on this printed wonder. I loved it as it reminds my of Hundertwasser the Austrian artist. Clashes with almost everything!
Black velvet aladdin slippers. Toe curling treasures that sexily elongate my legs and had me staring at my feet for a good part of the summer. My hard wearing ways mean these are unlikely to get me through S/S 2012 so if anyone knows where I can find me a new pair please please tell!
70’s mini sundress (see main picture. Part Babs Windsor part psychedelic Laura Ashley. Flirty and demure at once in candy colours and synthetic lace. Asset flattering bargain courtesy of the lovely people at the Islington Salvation Army Charity shop
Leatherette Car Seat dress. An icon in the finding and named by good self. My copywritng career was waylayed back in the 90’s but the talents are still around. I have seen its lesser cousins in the high street already. Bought at a carboot and named after a car seat. Self professed style icons don’t get much classier do they?
Crazy mad bonkers print elasticated waist cut off pants. These should so not work but do. Bad in print but bad ass on. These hot pink and black floral printed bad boys were worn and worn and not just for the comfortable stretch in the waistband.
American Dentist blouse. Aptly titled by amusing muse eight year old Sara. Exquisitely modeled by the lovely Aisling Conboy.
Peach Vintage Radley cocktail dress. This sweet wrapper of stiff pastel organza made my birthday go pop!
Animal print mules Russell and Bromley. These are some grown up shoes just like the ones my first Barbie had.
Tangerine velvet waistcoat or as an American friend of mine describes it vest. I somehow feel like Bart Simpson in a vest and that to me is a good thing.
I don’t hanker after the high street much but I have been stalking a pair of boots online after seeing them on a girl in Crouch End. No 6. Shearling black on black clog boots I must have you. I have in all honesty been a very good girl this year and thus deserve the best footwear money can buy. So hurry your tardy ass along now Santa.
Just the one. The tragic loss of my beloved boucle wool blue Chanelalike jacket. Last seen when locking my bike distractedly to the railings outside Highgate Tube station. Perhaps the long lost and much loved whippet missing from the same area is sleeping soundly on it somewhere. The thought hardly eases the pain still deeply felt.