As Happy as a Clam

(Via Go Fug Yourself)

Dude, I am so happy that Bjork is back!

Jean Genie

Thank you to the attendees of Coachella for reminding me how much I hate denim short-shorts/hotpants/cut-offs, which ever your preferred moniker.



Whatever you call them they're hideous.



I really hope this is not a sign of festival fashion for the rest of the summer.



Honestly, I just don't think I could take it.
















(Via Elle UK)

Brown as a (Glaston)Berry

(Image via The Guardian)

Did you hear Snoop refer to it as "Glastonberry"? That tickled me. As does his god awful knuckle duster ring. He looks like he could slice processed pork products on that and no mucking about.



Anyhoo, here are some choice Glasto outfits. Liking Sienna's jewellery.



And Pixie's skirt and belt and top combo. Not so sure about the hair.



And just love everything about Miss Laverne.



And Kate's dress.



And Jameela's oufit but hate the shoes.



And the opposite for Corinne.


(Images via Glamour)

And Alexa just looks cool and comfortable and not trying too hard which I appreciate.


(Image via The Guardian)

The less said and Kate Moss's torn fishnets the better though, no?

FestivHELL

(Image via Zimbio)

I couldn't agree MORE. Why anyone would want to go and camp in a field when there are chairs to be sat on in sunny back gardens with working facilities and an IPOD on shuffle, I have no idea. The Head and I recently had this conversationi:

"Hey! There's a fabulous festival on in Brighton this summer, do you wanna go?"
"No."
"Fat Boy Slim is playing" (plus eager grin and encouraging head nodding.)
"Just kill me now then, and go alone. Please."

I've got to say, festivals aren't kind to burlesque girls are they? Much better that they stay at home with us and drink pink fizz next to some flowering bougainvillea and lament the skinking of heels into freshly mown lawns being out biggest woe and let the Chloe's and Mischa's get on with it, shall we? Rather!

Al Fresco Fashion

I received an e-newsletter today attempting to sell me clothing for when I attend any number of festivals this summer.

For one thing, festivals really aren't my cup of tea anymore. It seems to me the worst combination of all the privations of the countryside and thousands and thousands of people, who you might usually hope to avoid on leaving the city.

But maybe I am just an old grouch. The suggestion that festivals are a source of particular sartorial high points is also lost on me.