Sunday, 22 August 2010

Some getting used to

I’m not much of a jewellery person. In fact, I’m not much of an accessories person either. My general rule of style is ‘less is more’, unless of course I’m faced with an item of clothing that has to be adorned with jewels and gems and the kitchen sink. What was it that Coco Chanel famously said? Always take off the last thing you put on? Yes, something to that extent. I applaud you Mademoiselle Coco. You’re damn right.

Perhaps my weariness of over-doing-it stems from the days when I wanted to be a ‘sk8r chic’ and Avril Lavigne was my style icon. Thankfully that phase lasted only a short while during the holidays one summer. I look back through the photos of 2002 and cringe at the multiple ear piercings and jelly bangles I thought looked cool.

Anyway, back to my main point. Now, in 2010, I’m not much of a jewellery person. I wear the same pieces day in day out because they a) mean something to me – like the necklaces and earings I was given for my 21st, b) they’re simple and I like them – thus complying with Coco’s principles of style and fashion, c) I just don’t suit being overloaded and weighed down by it all. Or maybe I’m boring?


Except, if I think about it and look at my jewellery stand, I actually have quite a lot of the stuff lying around. Necklaces, earings, bangles and bracelets, even headbands. But the one thing that appears to be missing is a sever lack of rings. Sure, I still have my Pocahontas mood ring my BFF got me for my 7th birthday, but other than that my poor fingers must be feeling left out. Sooooo…the other day I bought a ring. A lovely little silver charm ring – it has a star hanging off of it. It’s cute. I like it. It’s just going to take some getting used to.

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

History of history

Ok, so I know I’ve not painted the best portrait of Father Dearest in the past, having described his sense of style as remarkably similar to a 14th century Pagan or something to that extent, but what can I say…he’s obviously been paying attention in recent months. I had a phone call from him yesterday morning to say that while on his way to work he had passed a charity shop with the most interesting jacket in its window and that he had popped in and put it on hold for me. Now, when anyone, myself included, uses the word ‘interesting’ to describe an item of clothing it’s usually not in a positive light. I pushed it a little further, “what do you mean by interesting?”, I asked. “Well, its vintage Frank Usher, covered in gold and brown sequins, medium length sleeves, blah blah blah”. I had stopped listening at ‘Frank Usher’. To cut a long story short, I can reveal to you now avid readers, that I am now the proud owner of the most beautiful, exquisite, dashing jacket in the history of history.

Wednesday, 11 August 2010

A work of art

Great Scott! By Joe! Zara, how you tease me so! Why is it that every store of yours I visit you flaunt the most perfect dress in front of me: so beautifully it sits perched on a hanger just waiting to be bought. Alas – it’s not meant to be, covered in feathers its design rewrites the fairytale and turns this swan into an ugly duckling. Perhaps I should buy it anyway and hang it on my wall in a frame so I can appreciate it as a work of art.

Thursday, 5 August 2010

Oh dear

T: Minus forty eight hundred hours

Mission: Project Hen Party

Objective: Find a dress

Notes: Oxford Street apparently is not the place to go.

Despite being Europe’s busiest shopping street, with an amazing 548 shops (I wikipedia’d that, obvs) and a worldwide reputation for being THE high-street shopping destination, period, you would think that finding a dress would be as easy as A, B, C.

Evidently not.

Even a hop on the Piccadilly Line to Harrods and Harvey Nichols didn’t make much of a difference. In fact if anything, doing so made me confused. The dress I had in mind was black, made from material and be acceptable to wear in public. The shop windows were encouraging me to wear a dress made of clothes pegs, lengthen my legs so I’d appear as tall as the Eiffel Tower or construct an outfit made of hardbacks.

Oh dear.