Monday, 24 May 2010


Everybody loves a good wedding. I was lucky enough to attend one this weekend just across the border in a quaint little town in England. The sun was shining spectacularly all day which made for beautiful photo opportunities set against the stunning scenery that surrounded the farm. So lush. So pretty. So country chic.

My friend and I had a ball: the venue was picturesque and atmospheric; the music was so danceable and enjoyable; the food was delicious and the bar was free. My favourite part of a wedding though (after getting caught up in the emotion and merriment) is to see what everyone is wearing – from the bride and groom, to the bridesmaids and ushers, family members and close friends - all that attend such an occasion go that extra step to glam up for the day which is celebration enough to blog about.

So here’s my commentary of the wedding outfits (well, from what I remember anyway…like I said, it was a free bar).

O. The bride wore an elegant, classic, beautiful lace dress. My eyes feasted on it all day long. Its train was just divine, trailing behind her perfectly as she walked up the isle and moving so effortlessly as it too enjoyed the couple’s first dance.

O. The groom looked dashingly hansom in his charcoal and black tail suit. His tie was pale pink and his waistcoat grey. As this was my first wedding not to take place in Scotland, it was a somewhat different, yet pleasant, experience to not see the groom in a kilt.

O. Groomsmen followed ‘suit’ (gettit?) whereas the bridesmaids funked it up a little: all four of them sported the same dress but paired off in teams of bright plum and regal purple.

O. Notable guests included a woman wearing a very lime-green dress with a wild, extravagant, lavish hat – multicoloured strands bounced from a black, mesh, circular base which sat to the side of the supporting hair-band. It scared me a little, but I liked it.

O. Another beautiful guest wore a coral dress which deliciously suited the summer season and made her stand out against the organic skyline. Turquoise heels stood out wonderfully and with her freshly dyed hair she looked like a babe.

O. Between the men there was a fantastic mix of the distinct English and Scottish style heritage. Tweed suits, tails, kilts and tartan trousers were in abundance making the day a true culture clash.

O. My outfit? I wore a bottle green, silk, strapless dress with a black cropped blazer and lace up shoe boots (I finally got a pair, hurrah). My mothers concern though, was that my nail-polish on my toes looked trashy compared to the rest of the outfit. A pink shade of coral would cheekily contrast yet compliment everything else but I was told that a green varnish would ‘coordinate’ more. Obviously I ignored Mother Dearest’s ‘fashion advice’ and received a great many praises on the ‘rebellion’.

Monday, 17 May 2010

I was heartbroken

I almost laughed in a girls face today. A sort of laugh-cough-spluttery noise left my mouth as I passed her in the street and then I continued to look at her, mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief. I don’t mean to sound amazingly bitchy but, really now, was she for real?

I know floral patterns are in this season, it is Spring/Summer after all (how original) but this girl had taken this trend to the extreme and accessorized like there was no tomorrow. Now I’m not saying I know everything about fashion and yes we all know I’ve had a few disasters in the past (read previous entries if you want a re-cap) but let me describe to you what she was wearing:

Floral patterned tights in a grey/orange colour combo. Faded, floral denim hotpants. Brown belt. White tee. Pearl necklace with flower corsage. Headband with flower corsage. Satchel. Brown shoes.

Maybe I’m just a bit sceptical about florals? When I was 14 I bough a skirt from Topshop for my dad’s birthday party. Pink, black and grey brushstrokes swooshed round in little circles that looked like flowers. It was cute. I liked it. Well, I liked it until one of my dad’s friends asked whose curtains I had stolen to make the skirt from? I was heartbroken.

Monday, 10 May 2010

Hence the '55'

Michael Macintyre has this joke where his wife wants to buy a new bag for a night out so she can carry around her essentials in style: the bag she would like is £500. The punch line is that he, being the faithful, devoted husband that he is, would much rather hire someone to walk around behind his wife and carry her stuff for her than buy her this really expensive bag. (Its really pretty funny, you should youtube it).

There’s a couple of bags on that I’m rather lusting over at the moment.

O: Pucci’s bean-shaped clutch bag is pretty glam. I don’t think I’d take it on a night out though, I’d just admire it every so often as it would sit on a shelf in my room.

O: Mulberry’s Antony leather cross-body bag. Mmmm, yes please. Thankfully Mother Dearest recently purchased this and I look forward to stealing it when her back is next turned. (Cue evil laugh)

O: THE Valentino Ricamo Shining Flower tote. It’s Valentino people. Valentino!

O: Balmain’s Swaovski clutch. It looks like it would be nice to stroke.

Ok, so maybe that’s more than a couple, but I figured I might have a rich fan out there who might like to buy me one (or more) of the above. Thanks in advanced.

P.S. Found out a fact that I really should have known years ago: Chanel’s famous 2.55 bag was named thus because a) it was being re-launched (hence the ‘2’) and b) it was re-launched in 1955 (hence the ‘55’).

Friday, 7 May 2010

What's cooking, good looking?

While watching ‘Julie and Julia’ today (one of the nicest, most pleasant films I’ve seen in a long time) I began to reminisce about my culinary experiences. This brought me back to one of the first times I wore my UGG boots. I was cooking Tapas (how very cultural of me) and I dropped a slice of courgette which was swimming so much in lemon juice it must have been doing the back-crawl. I watched in slow motion as it fell from my fork, down, down, down, overturning a few times before landing with a light thud on my left boot. Disaster. I could have cried. Thankfully though, as well as being a great cook, writer and joke teller, I’m quite domesticated and was able to remove most of the stain. So I learnt my lesson. Now I cook in slippers or socks with an apron sporting the motto: “What’s cooking, good looking?”

Wednesday, 5 May 2010

Don't express your inner whore too much

This morning when I was reading up on the news (God bless the BBC website), a headline caught my attention:

ASBO ban on showing pants in Bedford dropped: A teenager has avoided being given an anti-social behaviour order banning him from wearing low-slung trousers.

While I hate to see the male youth of today walking around with their jeans so low, sporting an attention grabbing studded belt and exposing way too much of their patterned boxers, they’re just following one of the biggest trends of the season: Underwear as Outerwear.

(Not on the above) It’s sexy, it’s sleek, it’s trashy in a vampish kind of way and its everywhere at the moment: bustiers, sheer bras, star shaped nipple coverings…JOKE, that trend was so over in 2004 courtesy of Janet Jackson.

Underwear is important, it’s the basis of all outfits and let’s not deny that its pretty fun to go shopping for.

The thing that I hate about this whole ‘leaving little to the imagination’ trend are those gigantic, granny pant bloomers. Really they do leave a lot to the imagination: what are you hiding in those, Marc Jocobs Model?

The trick is, you need to do this trend subtly. A white top and black bra combo is ok (although mother dearest wasn’t so convinced when I tried this out…apparently I looked too WAG-like), but leopard print and pink lace bras are a no-go. Similarly, sequin covered hot pants look good on the dancefloor if worn with a plain tee, but anything less and you’ll look like you’re working the streets of Amsterdam.

In the words of Sue Sylvester (Glee much?) embrace Madonna’s “self confidence, body image and sexual magnetism” just don’t express your inner whore too much.