Slip Sliding Away

Oh SERIOUS! I know. I am so over them. An usually so in advisably worn too. Yikes. Yesterday I was mentally scarred by walking behind a woman actually wearing her hose as a legging. I could make out the exact print of her underwear though them. I mean, this needs to stop surely?

(Images via tightsarenotpants.com)

I stumbled across this earlier. I might print off a few copies and start handing them out. I mean it!

Slippery When Wet

(Image via American Apparel)

O'phishully bored now. Uh-huh, 'kay?

J'adore l'armoire!

(Images via Fab Sugar)

Aha! Now. A few ladies were wearing those bloody rotten shoes at that do. Aren't they just revolting? It's the ball on the heel that just kills me every time. It exists solely to add insult to injury.

I too loathe that heel shape. Madonna sported a (less) curvular heel at last years Cannes - clearly it was a warning sign of the state of things to come. It reminds me of overly curlicued furniture. Sort of like, LOOK! It's the Madonna-as-armoire era! No!

(Image via House to Home)

I do LOVE Vicky's hue though. I am intending to get myself that shade of mahogany in time to head to the hen party tomorrow. I am hoping that extreme colouration will detract from the textural issues that affect my bottom area (there is a hot tub you see, so swimwear will be involved and I didn't find out in enough time to lay off the cheese and wine and improve matters. Damn it!) I shall be locking myself in the salle de bains tonight with as many cans of Ambre Solaire as it takes. I have unlimited patience when it comes to textural emergencies.

Head Over Heels

Except I'm not. In love I mean. Well, not with those shoes at any road. Please, please, please tell me that those hideously shaped heels are not coming back in fashion. We all know how Miss. B likes to be on top of the trends. And I saw some meeedja type in Soho wearing them yesterday.

Please tell me it's not a sign of what is to come. I don't think I could bear it. They remind me of the time when I was about 13 when I persuaded my mother that I would commit social suicide if my feet were not immediately housed in a pair of high heels. Foolishly she agreed (and we all know what sort of trouble that has lead to in the recent years) and she was duly dragged to Dolcis, the height of sophistication don't you know, in some two horse town where I tried on every pair of black high heels that they were willing to bring out to me. Although you know the surly types who worked in Dolcis of a weekend, so it probably wasn't that many.

I forced my parents to sit there while I tottered about like a young fawn um-ing and ah-ing in front of the mirror. One of the pairs had heels like that. If ever there was something that had its time and its place then it was those heels (and even that was probably pushing it) so the thought that their popularity might be on the rise fills me with DREAD!

Fortunately I had the foresight not to buy those and instead to buy the highest, least practical ones ever that I happily walked around in for the next couple of years, probably with that bent kneed, jutting chin, bottom out walked so perfected by all 13 year olds who have no idea what they are doing with 4 inches. (My how things have changed!) So I was saved the ignominy of ever having had something so ugly on my feet.

I do wish that Vicky could say the same.

American Tan

Do you know, I have been umming and ahhing over this little number for the last week. I just....er.....well! One minute I love it, but then I start to hate it again. It's the strangeness of the sleeve that has got me. That weird nude effect fabric always makes me feel a little unnerved. It's the hemmy bits that I find a bit distasteful. They make me think of scrunched up, used, American Tan pop socks, and if there's one thing I don't want to think about right now, it's THOSE.

Ice skaters are forever in that nudey stuff. And they even have nudey tights that extend over their boots which just freak me the HELL out. Look at Samantha Mumba and Sarah Greene below. I mean, Sarah! She at least should know better. They look so pleased with themselves. Oddness!

So, yeah. I hate it. But I like it at the same time. I like the zip in particular. It's just the floaty arm things and the opp sock neck that don't do it for me. SHE looks fabulousness itself though. What amazing legs!

Liv-ing La Vida Loca

(Image via Handbag.com)

Damn, Miss Tyler. You have pulled it out of the bag. All. The. Way. Out. Yowza!

I Should Coco

I am not sure what I am more excited by. This Coco Chanel film that is coming out.

Or seeing all the delectable outfits that Audrey is trotting out for the promotion of said film.

Leave of (Ab)sense

Oh! I am so very late in posting today. I have been very busy watching the You Tubed opening credits of 'Blossom' on repeat for like, the last two hours. I find them bizarrely comforting. Anyway! That's not what I'm here for. We need to discuss your holiday wear. Hmmm.

The need for things with zips and laces and bought from shops called things like 'Itchy Feet' alarms me precious one And that is why for my little holiday I have made sure that I will be spending my time sitting at pavement cafes and sampling the local Tuscan vino, people watching and not very much more. My dress code for next week is Eurotrash all the way. I'm breaking out the gold sandals and the coral and the overly pink nail. I'm going to channel Donatella. You just watch me. I have posted lovely Antoine in honor. Hi Antoine! What are you doing hanging off that mannequin? What's that?....just looking all louche and insouciant? Oh! Well, super. Carry on!

You can wear your layers of variously textured garments safe in the knowledge that when we return you are BOUND to have a much better calf than me though. And we can put on frocks and show it off and get you rehabilitated. And that (almost) makes it worth it.

These Boots Are Made for Walkin'

This is going to be my uniform for the next two weeks. And while I have done my damndest to buy all the proper technical clothes in all the right technical fabrics in the very prettiest shades available I am slightly concerned for my mental wellbeing. Trousers that zip off into shorts? Fleeces? Sensible shoes??!

Have I made a terrible mistake?

I might bring on some kind of meltdown...

(Images via Itchy Feet)

It'll be nice to be on holiday, though, won't it?

Hooooo!

Well how divine dearest! Bravo! I guess you really can wash 'n' go now hmm?

I, on the other hand look like the chap above. Are you familiar with Lion-O? I was convinced he was called Lionel when I was a child. And as a result I can't now look at Lionel Blair without shouting Thunder, Thunder THUNDERCATS HOOOOO in my head. To be fair, they are both bouffed within an inch of their lives.

The wind is also causing me problems. Walking by the river on Sunday with The Head I was attacked by a malevolent gust and my hair went Out Of Control. Cousin It was mentioned. Yeah, I mean, it's THAT bad.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

It has happened. The hair is gone. And in tribute to Jean I am wearing almost exactly this outfit. It is probably immodest to say so, but I look adorable!

A Glass Half Full

First of all, can I just say how queasy Elt's specs make me every time I look at them? I am keen to get them as far down the page as possible. Bleaugh.

OK, so they're both utterly charming and I imagine the ones you really like are too. I think prescription sunnies are a very good idea in theory but not for me. My myopia means that the lenses actually end up costing about as much as a two door run around before I even get to the frames so it's just not financially viable. But it's going to be a hot sunny summer apparently so why not? The you can wear yours and I can wear my cheapo ones and be as blind as a bat and you can guide me about like a troublesome elderly aunt wearing your posho ones. Nice!

Whilst we're here shall we discuss the half tints. Now it's not often I don't like something that An Olsen wears but I'm not mega mega about them. Although she does look quite lovely in that picture. But you know, in general. But whilst looking for a pic of those I found this. Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!

You've got to hand it to Mr Lagerfeld. He has taken a simple school dinner tray with the compartments for vegetables, main and pudding and taken it to a whole other briefcase level. I LOVE! Your glasses would SO be safe in there dude.

(Images via tbc)

Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me

Tee, hee! Just as I am writing this the sun is breaking through the clouds. Nice work Reg!


As delicious as his outfit undoubtedly is what I have actually come to discuss is sunglasses. More specifically designer sunglasses. I am the kind of girl who balks at spending much more than £15 on a pair, because I have a tendency to leave them scattered around the country. Or surrender them to the torture that is the bottom of my bag with nary a cloth baglet for protection and then get annoyed when the are scratched to oblivion.

So spending over £100 alarms me slightly. Except that I found the most perfect pair in Alexander McQueen and I am considering it. Maybe I could even get them prescriptioned up to ensure that I have to look after them and so I can, you know, see.

I have a sneaking suspicion you might tell me that I should get down to some cheap boutique and part with my £15 and stop being so dashed foolish.

(Images via Alexander McQueen)

Neither of these pairs are the ones I like, but cute all the same.

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.