shacked up at the chateau

Random Wednesday

2010-05-12T12:59:00.001-07:00

Feet don’t fail me now

2010-05-11T16:52:00.001-07:00

What the hell is wrong with my brain? I just purchased these freak shows from jessicasimpsoncollection.com. OK, so I know, I know. Don’t say it out loud because I don’t wanna hear it. I tell myself that they are by Charles Anastase or Marni…anything in fact other than the dreaded Simpson. But, you see, I just had to have them. They fit my personal style too well to pass up. My family and friends keep telling me I was born out of time because I am obsessed with just about every style fad from the roaring 20’s to the hippy dippy 70’s. Nothing after. I don’t do “modern” well at all. I am not comfortable. Geeky, goofball women with an addiction to uproarious belly laughter and pulling silly faces and mischievous pranks seldom do modern well. This is what I tell myself anyway. It helps. Anyway, back to the shoes. So I bought them because I been having night sweats over the Charles Anastase ones which I couldn’t bring myself to buy and these Dany platforms are the closest I could find in shape and height without the circus factor. I can’t wait to wear with knee high socks and shorts! OMG just thinking about it is giving me the damn DT’s. Seriously, the postman better hurry up if he knows what's good for him!

I got them in the Black Intense Nappa. Needing a second opinion before hitting the “buy” button, I found strength enough to relinquish the mouse and put my hand on my phone and I called my husband. You might as well know it now; dude is like my best girl friend and I don’t mean it in any emasculating way at all, living with him is definitely the same thrill I’d get if I were living with my best friend. We go shopping all the time and discuss shapes and colour and print etc etc and its so much fun. Just to set the record straight, he was not always like that you dig me. He was more the cheap beer jeans ‘n’ shirt type but ya know mama changed that in a jiffy! So anyway, he gave me the green light. I was like “should I get em? Should I? What do you think?” And all the while doing that weird crazy-boggle-eyed woman insane laughter thing. Yeah, you’re out there and you know I m am not alone. Pleeeease hurry up Mr. Postman. Puhlease.

In case you haven’t as yet heard, these were the stupid heights at which heels soared last season. Check out the Charles Anastase ones which I passed up because they really are ridiculous. Not sure how tall the heels are but I would guess somewhere around 8 inches whereas the Dany ones are a little over 5 inches. BTW there is a picture of Pixie Geldof totally eating tarmac in a pair of his creations!

And for the rest of it because if you know me, then you know that I just can’t buy a pair of shoes without getting a new outfit to go with them. So here is my shopping for today. Time well spent I think. Internet I could kiss you!

First up is this adorable washed silk romper by Geren Ford at Shopbop.com

Next up is the Tatiana Jumpsuit by Indah which I think is the perfect outfit for long haul flights this summer.

Another romper (am I obsessed?) by Free People, this time a floral cutie that seems to have that “thrifted” vibe written all over it.

I am over the romper thing now.

My Hubby Surprised Me With This

2010-05-05T15:45:00.000-07:00

Last Friday evening there came the familiar sound of male shoes running up wooden stairs, stairs which wind their way outside and lead to the front door of our apartment home. I have become so accustomed to his footsteps which are always quick, light and sure no matter what kind of shoes he wears. I believe wholeheartedly that if you were to blindfold me and make me listen to a thousand recorded footsteps, I could differentiate his from the multitudes. He reminds me of an elf!

In he came and found me painting at my easel, next to the big window, the one which lets in the best and most splendid light even on a rainy day. "Put your hand in my right pocket" he commanded. I looked at him for a moment thinking this has got to be waaay too early for what he has in mind and by an open window no less! So I sat there and rolled my eyes and gave him a kiss on the cheek instead. "Was your day that awful?" I asked. "It was good" he said "But I need you to put your hand in my right pocket and take out what's there". So sure that he was up to tricks again, I decided to play along but to be cautious. Well, I never expected it. My fingers rested on metal and when I fished it out I saw this delightful gold bracelet! It is so sweet and has three charms on it: a gun, a shoe and a key. My darling dearest, took my wrist even though it was covered in oil paint and turpentine and gently placed the bracelet on me. "Why?" I asked. "Just because" he said and then he kissed me.

Do you like it? I do, very much.

Diane Kruger

2010-05-05T13:07:00.001-07:00

This outfit is so sweet it hurts my teeth! I want it.

Diane Kruger in a Valentino dress and Isabel Marant faux fur coat, at the Golden Camera Awards in Berlin.
Divine!!!

I Am Loathed To Admit It But…

2010-05-05T12:35:00.001-07:00

I reaaally reaaally like the short shag hairdo that Victoria Beckham sported last year. This woman, urghhh irritates me. I never completely “got” her. She seems too uptight for my tastes and I firmly believe that fashion should be fun and comfortable subsequently I have always found her to be a-lot-a-bit of a try hard. Severity in anything especially fashion puts me right off! Anywhoo, for some reason that I haven’t quite worked out the “why’” of yet, the hairstyle below actually makes her look good. Not jus good but sexy, young and casual. Even with those stupid stilettos that are permanently glued to her feet. Kinda get the feeling though that if she had chosen to wear anything other than the vest top and grey skinnies, I may not have liked this look at all. But she did and I do. I like it a little too much. Now, where are my scissors…?

Alexa wears Tuxedo by 3.1 Phillip Lim Fall 2010 at the META Gala

2010-05-04T16:56:00.001-07:00

So I know everyone is blogging about this outfit that Alexa Chung wore recently to the MET Institute Costume Gala and the general consensus is that she pulled it off. I agree, and how! The tuxedo and sequin blouse I believe, belongs to the 2010 Fall collection of 3.1 Phillip Lim and the shoes I think are Louboutin.

I really don’t know where to start with breaking down this outfit. Theoretically all the pieces together including the ribbon neck tie should look like a Coco The Clown special but it doesn’t on her at all. If anyone else were to wear this they certainly would look part of the circus. So do I like the look? Well, yes and no.

Here at least, Alexa is doing what Alexa does best which is sticking to the style she is most comfortable with, only dressed up a little bit more. For some ladies the comfort zone is a velour tracksuit for Miss Chung it has to be a witty, edgy, 1960’s insouciant mess!Her style is very tongue-in-cheek. I personally love the trousers and jacket combo but not so much with the shirt. The sequins just push it over the top for me. Perhaps if it was silk , lighter and plain it may have looked better. But, saying that, she still looks damn good to me. Don’t you just adore the way she wore the jacket draped on her shoulders? Very gansta! I would definitely notice her in the crowd dressed like this, the look stands out in a sea of frou frou dresses and if I didn't’ know who she was, I would certainly be more than a little intimidated of a woman who has the balls to wear this and be comfortable. Yes, I would remember her for a long time after.

The hair is still messy but shiny. The eyes are smudgy, golden bronze and black khol rimmed. Gone is the cat eye corner flick for this look. The lips though are probably what surprised me the most. We seldom see her in bright lipstick, she normally favours none or a pale pink. I love the fact that the red is dark. I found it to be very vampy and I think it suits her complexion well. Has anyone else noticed the tan she is sporting recently? I quite like it. Alexa is normally a pale girl but I think the soft gold skin really makes her blue/green eyes pop!

New York living is most definitely having an effect on her. She is becoming more polished. I guess we have to wait and see what effect this has on her street style.

Selling buttery soft leather over-the-knee nude coloured vintage boots

2010-04-30T14:37:00.001-07:00

These size 6 US (4 UK, 37 European) boots are ah-ma-zing! Circa 1972, they are in excellent vintage condition. The leather is sturdy but pliable meaning that when you put them on they won’t slouch or fail to keep their form. They hold up and come to just over the knee. If you choose to however, you can slouch them. The colour is a very soft caramel nude, almost a beige. If you are into wearing nude this season (or at all) then these darling vintage boots will slide nicely into your wardrobe, lifting the look of skinny jeans, shorts worn with thigh length socks or even just bare legs. They really are lovely and do get a lot of compliments.
Selling for $120. Or make me an offer I cannot refuse!
Will post worldwide. Paypal only.
See HERE for more detailed images.

Pretty Special

2010-04-29T14:11:00.001-07:00

I stumbled on these gorgeous ed’s from Fashioncopious’ blog and was so overwhelmed by the prettiness that I just had to share. I am suddenly inspired to pick wildflowers and run through a field of wheat and poppies in a wispy dress of finest silk gauze.
Morning Flowers
Vogue Nippon June 2010
Shot by: Andreas Sjödin
Model: Frida Gustavsson

Alexa Chung. Let us all try to get along, shall we?

2010-04-27T11:12:00.001-07:00

I dig Alexa Chung. I really do. From her face to her lanky legs to her skinny frame and her penchant for quirky mismatched clothes. This girl epitomises true London style in all its eccentric devil-may-care tongue-in-cheek glory.

I have been lucky enough in the past to have been invited to some of the fashionable events and parties where Miss Chung was also in attendance (it’s not what you know dear but who you know, ahem) and I can tell you unequivocally that she really is that pretty in real life. The girl is a knock-out. Simple fact. Refusing to believe differently does not change this fact. And if that were not enough she is also possessed of a very funny British sense of humour which I believe in part hails from her pin sharp witticism and observances that she likes to…share out loud.

But of late there has been a lot of negativity aimed at her and maybe this has something in part to do with her rise in popularity and therefore her subsequent rise on the fashion radar which has seen her move up the ranks to the point where she has become an icon and muse du jour to many a fashionista.

I’m interested in breaking this hate-fest down. I want to put my own spin, if I may, on why certain girls and women feel the need to dislike her and others of the same type. I think it is important to do so. I don’t just want to sum it up as jealousy even though this is what it amounts to in the end, for that would be far too easy a dismissal. I want to understand a lot more than that. Please stop reading here if you are easily offended.

For instance, the women who claim to hate her (face) are normally very short of stature, toping 5’ 2” at the very most. With short stumpy stocky legs that lack any true definition between thigh, calf and ankle. They are probably also carrying love handles on the sides of their short torsos. Their necks are short and their faces are flat, wide and featureless like their noses. These women can find beauty only in others who look exactly like them. Women who define beauty by wearing long tresses of wavy mermaid hair placed just so over the shoulders. Coloured contact lenses are also de rigour. I am talking about the kind of look glorified by such magazines as ViVi who employ half-pint “models” such as Sara Mary, Jun and Rinka to be the pin-ups of the short disgruntled women I am talking about today.

Yes I placed the word “model” in inverted commas because lets face it, while it is true every country has its own definition of beauty, the real money making powerhouse of fashion resides in the West, in Europe and America. It would be impossible for a girl like Sara Mary to scrape her hair off her face into a tight severe pony tail , not I hasten to add into a cutesy puffy, tendril falling, face framing top knot! And wash her face free of makeup, wear the simple models uniform of skinny jeans with a plain white or black t-shirt and some heels and expect to have any luck what-so-ever on a go-see when in competition with a 5’ 11” chiselled creature with cheekbones so sharp it could cut glass! It wouldn't happen, not in this universe anyway.

Perhaps you haven’t heard of ViVi or these models of which I speak but it is quite easy to find if you browse the international section of any decent magazine store.

But, here is the kicker. These same women secretly love and therefore begrudge the very features which they claim to hate in others. Don’t believe me? Just take a look at the men they date and marry. These men are nearly always their exact opposite. Tall while the women are short. Thin and lanky while the women are stumpy, stocky and petite (petite is not the same as skinny. Skinny is bony whilst petite can encompass anything that is tiny). A sharply defined chiselled face whilst the women's are flat, broad and devoid of contours. Classically handsome opposing the not so. Even the skin tone more often than not is different. What does all this mean? Opposites do attract! And the good news is, this is great for the gene pool.

And if you are out there and happen to be reading this and experiencing that sick feeling in your stomach because deep inside you know this post applies to you, well, I want you to understand something quite important: we can all see it quite easily when you are out together with your man. The world is not blind! Really doesn’t matter how you try to disguise it and fix your mermaid hair or make-up or what clothes cover your body or indeed the way you always pose for photographs favouring a semi profile shot with chin either tucked down or sticking right up and out and lips that are extended and pouted ( a trick used so often by the non photogenic and insecure).

These women I speak of go for men who are their direct opposites because they can appreciate and understand this kind of beauty in a man. In a man, it is non threatening. For females who see every other woman as competition (even after they are married), the world of tall, skinny, contoured and beautiful is a very daunting and scary place. So it makes perfect sense that they build armour by pretending to be indifferent and by creating a private world which protects and nurtures only the type of “beauty” which they can easily attain and therefore understand. For my two cents, I think it is a very small world they live in where reality is warped to suit a required belief.

I don’t like it at all. True, we all need to feel better about ourselves but surely it should not be at the cost of reality! Or is reality nothing more than ones perspective of the truth? I leave it to you to answer.
The jig is up ladies. Hatred is a horrible thing. Let us have no more of it.

OK. Enough, I’ve said my piece and I am satisfied. Let’s have a girl crush moment and perv on a few Alexa Chung pictures.

Beauty SS 2010

2010-04-26T10:28:00.001-07:00

At the Spring/Summer 2010 shows we saw a welcome return to smoky eyes, bright eye shadows guaranteed to make any eye colour pop and lips in searing hot acid magenta, corals and oranges…

It's a small thing, nothing but a detail really but boy am I in love with Chanel's 505 Particuliere! A very strange taupe like grey colour. Odd and interesting.

Hotness

2010-04-25T15:27:00.001-07:00

OMFG!!! I was browsing Zara online just now and was hit between the eyes with this picture. I can’t believe…dude looks like my HUSBAND! Same face, body…even the stance. Except the hairstyle, he wears his longer.
Dude below could be a freakin’ doppelganger or something. Crazy.

Naughty But Nice

2010-04-21T18:14:00.001-07:00

OK. Today I want to discuss underwear. Not so much the trend that has been going around as of late (and will not die) of wearing underwear as outerwear but underwear that has the ability to be pretty, feminine, good quality and lets face it, seductive. Even if there is no one in particular to seduce it is just so nice and empowering I think to feel sexy under clothing. Its a confidence thing I think. Whenever I have nice lingerie on I instantly feel better, my head is up, my shoulders thrown back and there’s a lengthy leggy stride to my normally quick walk.
For years, in fact ever since they opened their first branch in Soho London, I have been a fan of Agent Provocateur. From the second you walk in and are greeted by the delicious 40’s inspired red lipstick wearing sales assistants in their sexy button down nurse uniform and the plush satin and velvet surroundings. It is just sooo plush. A little guilty pleasure. I remember one time I was shopping in there and Kylie Minogue was looking through some bra’s. Terrific! I can’t remember what she bought I couldn’t stop looking at her and thinking how pretty she is.
Myla is another good brand and La Perla and so is Fleur Of England, these suit my personality and form well.
I don’t normally wear a bra, in fact I hardly ever do. I much prefer the way t-shirts and blouses and sweaters look without one on me, more…natural. But when I do wear one I like it to match my knickers (panties). I like matching underwear and I like it to have a theme, whether 50’s inspired or all black or animal print or all lace. It just has to match and follow through to what I am wearing over it.

All Over Breton

2010-04-20T16:26:00.001-07:00

Some things just are. Like Breton Stripes. Everybody loves this classic Fishermans style. Simple, elegant and understated. Dress it up or down, doesn't matter one bit. It is the perfect little number to adopt and remake in your own style. My very first flirtation with Breton Stripes was at the tender age of five and I clearly remember a sweatshirt with three little buttons on the left shoulder and I practically lived in it until it fell apart at the seams. Stripes have been my favourite go to pattern ever since.

Eye Candy Galore!

2010-04-20T09:38:00.001-07:00

Some editorials have the power to catch our eye and remain planted in our memories. This can happen for many many different reasons. For me, personally I can be moved by the simple beauty of a sharply contoured face, a whimsical setting, and I have a particular penchant for hazy photography. But most of the time I am drawn by the clothes. I like nothing more than to trawl through magazines (hard copy and online) and get inspiration for my own closet. Here are some images that inspire the way I dress myself on almost a daily basis. From this you can tell I practically live in skinny jeans, black leggings and tiny jean shorts teamed with loose fit t-shirts and yes, my hair is normally pulled back away from my face. I guess I would say my style is casual, tight/body conscious (I’m very thin and shaped like a pole so I play that up. My legs I would say are my main body feature so I expose them the way some women prefer to play up a large cleavage (which I don’t have). My clothes are not very colourful because I like black too much). What type of photographs are you drawn to most and why?

Pretty Little Something's

2010-04-13T18:23:00.001-07:00

There are some things a girl just can’t live without. Like oxygen and… Marni 5.5 inch wedges! My hit-list as of now consists of said wedges and Foley & Corinna bags, a huge kiss-my-knuckle statement ring by Delphine-Charlotte Parmentier, a Stella McCartney zebra print tank top. She’s also done a to-die-for jumpsuit that I can see myself living inside of. And finally but not least for I shall be posting some other “wants” soon…a sweet little striped jacket by Tory Burch. I do wish the stripes were a little thinner and closer together, a bit more like breton stripes perhaps but I shall still go and try and it on anyway.

Shakuhachi

2010-04-13T15:50:00.001-07:00

I am so excited to share with you a new fashion label I found. Well, It’s new to me but it has been around in Australia since 2007. Shakuhachi is the brain child of Jessie White.

The brand whose name means 'bamboo flute' in Japanese was launched four years ago. Shakuhachi has developed a look that is directional but also accessible through its choice of fabrics and colour palette. The current collection has a youthful feel with its acid-wash denim, casual trousers, and fringed detailed dresses and tops.

Having eschewed formal fashion training, Jessie White's career as a designer was born eight years ago out of instinct, necessity, and a strong desire to create.

Using original artwork, Jessie White brings a sophisticated blend of modern, somewhat geometrical and vintage-inspired components to her work – a distinctive style developed through creative experimentation and natural curiosity. Using her own innate sense of style to inform her design, White has ensured that the Shakuhachi label is consistently inspiring to loyal followers and newcomers alike.

Recent Shakuhachi collections have seen the label mature, its primary focus being beautifully tailored garments with clever detailing and distinctive prints. Silhouettes are both functional and feminine, and the recognisable but evolutionary aesthetic of Shakuhachi is now stronger then ever.

Most recently, Shakuhachi made a solo runway debut at Rosemount Australian Fashion Week. The spring/summer 2007/08 collection titled “My Life In Pink”, presented a fresh and youthful collection of sporty, utilitarian shapes that was impressively mature and highly polished.

Shakuhachi is a top pick for fashion magazines and celebrities – alike admittedly a red-carpet favourite of sister rock duo, The Veronicas.

Shakuhachi is available internationally throughout Asia, New Zealanad, the UK and the USA and is stocked in a range of exclusive boutiques and department stores nationally including Tuchuzy, Capital L and David Jones.

Some of my fav pieces are being sold online at Urban Outfitters. Take a look...

Channelling Olivia Hussey

2010-04-07T14:12:00.001-07:00

If you have only ever seen the recent Romeo and Juliet film, the one featuring Clare Danes, then shame on you. Scroll back a few years to Franco Zeffirelli 1968 version and you’ll immediately know why this is considered one of the most hauntingly beautiful adaptation of a Shakespearian classic. The female lead, played by Olivia Hussey was and still is in my opinion, unsurpassed. Perhaps not so much for the acting, which was rather good and believable, but for the simple truth in the fact that Hussey epitomised the Juliet that is in the mind of any imaginative person who simply must put a face to a character in order to enjoy a good book. A beauty that is raw and fresh as early dawn itself. Youth in full bloom. Innocence born not yet lost. From the perfect oval of the face to the huge soul searing almond shaped eyes to the abundant dark mahogany tresses, Olivia Hussey’s Juliet will, for me, stand out for all time.

Maybe it is the first bloom of spring with new green on branches and blossoms galore that has me in this romantic, wistful mood but lately I have found myself channelling this charming creature. I have been wearing my freshly darkened baby-fine hair, long straight and centre parted. I am to be for the coming summer a hippie princess. Glowing skin from a new beauty routine courtesy of a few natural Hungarian beauty products which have been working madly on my skin and now I can honestly say “yes, my skin is even better without foundation and powder”. Now when I leave the house it is with one quick brush of clear mascara on my eyelashes and a touch up on my rather unruly brows to keep them in place and a slick of rose scented lip balm and a dab of Moroccan attar on my décolleté – and that’s it. I can’t tell you how happy I am that I can wake up, shower, dress and be out the house in les than twenty minutes! High fashion is fun but it is also high maintenance, no?

Mini Anden

2010-03-25T11:38:00.000-07:00

I have followed the career of this beautiful, beautiful Swedish woman since from oh, the early 90's and she has become more beautiful with age. I particularly love the contours of her face, the strong square set jaw, the tall forehead, the width of her face and those a-ma-zing eyes of blue. She has perfect symetry and wonderful bone structure. In the end it always comes down to the bones and underlying muscle, doesn't it? I mean, it matters little how we fix our hair, apply makeup or what clothes we wear. Mini is now 31 years old and whilst her modelling career might be slowing down, her career as an actress is taking off. Good luck Mini. J'adore.

Here is Mini Anden in one of my all time favourite editorials with Tasha Tilberg. Le monde d`hermes s/s 2007.

A few more from various editorials...

L'Amant (The Lover) by Marguerite Duras

2010-03-19T18:15:00.000-07:00

Marguerite Duras called “preposterous, self-obsessed, eloquent, unstoppable” (New York Times Review of Books), was one of the most widely read French writers of the postwar era. She authored 34 novels from 1943–1993, including her autobiographical L’Amant (The Lover), winner of France’s distinguished literary Prix Goncourt. She also penned the celebrated film Hiroshima, Mon Amour. Disliking others’ adaptations of her work, in the 1960s she began to direct—16 films in all. Her work is characterized by its self-reflexive nature; she often moved one story, or elements of a story, through genres: novel, film, play—even film to film. In her obituary, the New York Times lauded “her simple, terse writing style, as if language itself were merely a vehicle for conveying passion and desire, pain and despair.”

I speak of Madame Duras because quite recently I watched the film The Lover (L'Amant) with my hubby. Surprisingly he had neither seen or heard of the film or the book which I had read salaciously in Portugal by the hotel pool - my summer reading and my summer romance with the mind of Marguerite Duras was born then and continues to this day. The same as any young girl, exploring sensuality and sexuality I was greedy for the context of the pages and the words which all but spilled themes of forbidden love, longing, sex in foreign lands with strange men, strange scents and even stranger customs. L'Amant is a heart breaking novel and frankly one of the best romance books I have ever read. Of course, I am not an avid reader of romance novels so this in itself is no great compliment but still, this detail should not detract from the point that the book is damned good and should be read at least once in a life time.

The film version which aired in 1992 was scandalous. I remember watching it back then and listening to the furor it caused. It was a sensation. I read in some newspaper that Princess Diana, after having watched it at the cinema said something along the lines of feeling uncomfortable as though she were actually spying on two lovers in full throttle. The scandal centred around Jane March who played the Young Girl because people were speculating whether or not the two actors actually did have real intercourse on screen, it was therefore quite a back lash for March who at 18 having just made her first film debut, found herself the recipient of nasty name calling. One of those names stuck and unfortunately remains to this day - The Sinner from Pinner. For those who are confused, Pinner a suburb in the London Borough of Harrow in Greater London, England was the town in which she lived with her family. However, with all the dirt flinging that was going on, it is remarkable that none of it touched the pristine white suit of the films lead man Tony Leung Ka Fai. The film director Jean-Jacques Annaud did nothing at all to quash the rumours and March suffered a nervous breakdown. She did not speak to Annaud for ten years until he issued an apology. I believe she could have grown to be a good actress if the scandal had been addressed, if she had been better protected by those who readily used her innocence, youth and beauty for their own gain.

Today I wore my own version of the "hat". A pale antique fedora, the colour of washed tan with a broad grosgrain black ribbon. It is in fact near identical to the one worn in the film and is still one of my most prized vintage shop finds. I don't wear it as often as I used to, but whenever I do I cannot help but smile, remembering the youthful summer spent in Portugal so many years ago.

Models Au Naturale

2010-03-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

We have become so accustomed to seeing models in full hair and make up, contorting their bodies for photoshoots which in the end are more often than not digitally enhanced, that we forget that they too have their flaws. If like me you are one of the thousands of women who look in the mirror and fret over what is reflected, wishing certain features were smaller, bigger, sharper, rounder, more pronounced...whatever...whatever the 'perfect' unatainable beauty is that we alone see in our minds eye, then consider this post junk food for your vanity. Some of the industries finest walked for Louis Vuitton FW2010. Here they are sans makeup and hair.

Help Me Find Shoes Like These

2010-03-18T18:15:00.000-07:00

Chloe Silverado Ankle Boots.

And I can't believe I missed out on the Pierre Hardy for Gap line. What the hell was I doing?

Magda moment

2010-03-18T13:57:00.000-07:00

Magdalena Frackowiak. The woman with square symetry. This face by all the rules of conventional beauty should not work. But it does. And how! Utterly gorgeous on second take, on first take impossibly captivating. I remember watching Fashion TV a few years ago, curled up on my sofa miserable at the rain for choosing to spoil my Sunday afternoon plans and...There she was on my screen. I was riveted as much by her face as her poise and natural ability to model. Those who are under the misguided notion that modelling is easy, well, you obviously have not tried it. Her body, her silhouette, her face, was made for this.

Kenzo Backstage 2010

MaxMara Backstage 2010

Louis Vuitton catalogue

Shootthebreeze

Karl Lagerfeld backstage 2010

Chloe backstage 2010

Hand Me Down

2010-03-17T10:35:00.000-07:00

I found the most ah-maz-ing second hand shop about 15 minutes from my home. When I was a teenager, around 14 going on 15, buying thrift shop stuff was not considered cool at all and you could really buy a lot of clothes for under £1, that would be something like 25-50 cents. We didn't even call it thrift shop or vintage, it was just old clothes or second hand. Back then the Portobello Road in London was my mecca, so was the market on Petticoat Lane. I've got some great stuff that I still have and wear from those days and will probably never part with. Ossie Clark jackets, 1930's silk bias cut slips, Biba trousers and dresses...

Anyway, this shop I found was nicely priced too, had some great bargains and I don't think I will have to sew any of it in, which is rare for me.

1970's suede jacket with cutout detail and tie front $12.00

Teamed with bandeau bikini top by Rosa Chá and denim skirt by Miss Sixty

Jewellery vintage.

Shirt $7.50. 1980'S leather skirt $9.75

1960's floral dress $5.00

Sunglass $2.00

How Much Is Too Much?

2010-03-16T13:19:00.000-07:00

"I was dancin' with my darlin' to the Tennessee Waltz
When an old friend I happened to see
I introduced her to my loved one
And while they were dancin'
My friend stole my sweetheart from me" - Roy Acuff -

*Betsy's world came crashing down all around her like so many pieces of shattered glass falling from a mirrored ceiling. No one ever truly believes it when real life imitates art and so it was the case with my friend. One of her clients cancelled at the very last minute so, free from a day of reponsibility she sauntered home to her apartment which happens to be on the floor beneath mine. Her front door leads into a long hallway that despite it's sharp twist actually carries sound pretty well. Almost from the entrance she was able to hear female laughter. Thinking her boyfriend had left the TV on, she took off her heels, put her bag down and went to investigate. The TV was cold and right away she knew. The levity at which she had entered her apartment was gone and in its place was a perfectly formed stone, heavy and weighty in the pit of her stomach.

The bedroom door was unashamedly left ajar and she could see quite plainly two people moving in rhythm on her bed. It was the boyfriend and judging from the unmistakeable cut of the sharp brunette bob, the woman in flagrante delicto was the friend she had shared a room with in college.

So it was somewhere around quarter past three in the afternoon I heard my door bell ring and there stood *Betsy shaking and crying. I held her without words at the same time wondering how our thin sparrow like frames could be of any possible comfort to each other. With little coaxing I was able to guide her into the kitchen where she sat on the comfy overstuffed chair by the window that looks down to the street below. Having spent most of my life in England, the english ways are now mine so it was by automation that I put the kettle on and threw two teabags in the pot. Finally, I asked "What happened honey? What happened to you?"

She relayed the story to me, as I have relayed it here only her voice carried the echo of betrayal that I cannot sum up with paltry words. When my friends are hurt, I feel so helpless. I want to fix everything, make everyone smile again. But over time I have come to realise that patience and stillness are far more comforting attributes in times of crises. So I listened, over and over as she replayed details in the shocked manner of someone in a daze, unwilling to accept the truth as it stands before them.

The maddening thing is, she still loves him. When we have real love for another human being, that love doesn't go anywhere when it is hurt, it doesn't flee into hiding withdrawing the warmth of its flame. It takes time to cultivate love and therefore only time can heal and so we must endure and draw as much wisdom from our experiences as we can. So we spoke of many things that afternoon, *Betsy and I, over endless cups of tea and our conversation carried through to the evening. My understanding husband in that quiet way of his made dinner for all of us and did the washing up, leaving me free to talk to *Betsy all night and into the small hours of the morning.

During the course of that time the boyfriend had sent close to a hundred text messages since she had refused to take any of his calls. I read some, they sounded apologetic and guilty but really, how much sentiment can one convey through sms? It is my guess that he was more sorry at being caught red handed in the act than he was at actually doing the act. This was not one of those situations that he could deny, make up a story for and stick to it come hell or high water until she believed the lie.

So we spoke of many things. Of her love for him and the question of whether to take him back or not. I told her she must take care of her own love first. Care for it and cultivate it and give it direction and allow it to grow organically. A forced love for a person because they are good looking, well connected or in this particular case semi-famous and some of the latter cannot grow harmoniously, instead it remains stunted and stooped under the weight of its own labour. Love might be free but it never was intended to be thrown away I told her and quite clearly this man does not respect the love she has chosen to give him. If he places no value on it, he obviously does not place too high a value on her either. Actions speak louder than words.

*Betsy brought up the point that everyone makes mistakes and if we were all shot down everytime we made one there would not be any people left in the world. True, I said, but what of that small moment directly before the mistake is made? That moment when everything hangs in balance and we are presented with a choice? Surely it is at this precise moment that we make and re-make ourselves on a daily basis. Life is not static, it grows and we grow inside it and so too should our integrity, decency, honour, respect and love for ourselves and each other.

Love is built on faith, without it there is nothing. We must be able to let go of the illusion of control and have faith in the one that we love. Believe that their love for us will not allow them to harm us in any permanent way. Faith and trust are sisters in arms and one cannot exist without the other. So I asked *Betsy to search her heart and ask herself if she could ever truly trust him again now that suspicion has been replaced by proof. She did not answer me directly and neither could she meet my steady gaze.

This leads me to the question: How much is too much?

At what point do we pack up his tired suitcase and throw it out into the street with the rest of the garbage? How much exactly should we take before remembering our own self-worth? For some of us this scenario is an endless nightmare of concentric circles that leads to an even tighter spiral of love/hate, anger and violence. Love is easy enough to get into but hard as hell to get out of especially if we treat love as an investment. My advice to *Betsy: Let go of everything. Give your emotions permission to be free and remind yourself that although you had him, you never owned or controlled his actions. He did what he did and now she must do what she has to do. Unfortunately love does not always make us into better people. Only we can do that for ourselves.

IRO ss/2010

2010-03-12T15:51:00.000-08:00

Last years collection was incredible, no?

Paris to San Francisco Today

2010-03-11T09:57:00.000-08:00

In a few hours the taxi will pick *Alex and I up from our hotel where we are busy packing, or rather I am blogging and he is packing for both of us. What a truly wonderful sweet friend he is, anyway, he is much neater than I am and my clothes and new purchases hot off the runway will arrive uncreased and in perfect condition.

Unfortunately for me, Paris do things a little differently than London FW, they seem to be a lot stricter so *Alex was not able to blag me into the shows the same way he was able to in London "stick close to me, act nonchalent, act natural". However I did get to see Balmain, Isabel Marant, Chloe and Miu Miu and since these are amongst my favourites anyway, I really did not mind missing out on Chanel, Stella McCartney, John Galliano, Givenchy et al. It's OK, there will always be another time. Don't be sad for me. I am not sad at all. Really. Promise.

While *Alex was at the shows I got to re-introduce myself to the streets of Paris. Ah, Paris my darling how I missed you! I always miss London with a pain in my heart each and everytime I think of my home but I was not prepared for such feelings of nostalgia for a place I frequented only when there were sales on eurostar tickets. Just goes to show, you don't miss your water until your well has run dry. What's this? Two references to blues songs in the same paragraph! Oh my. Maybe I am little sad afterall.

I had a superb organic lunch at Breizh Café on 109 Rue Vieille du Temple in the middle of the bustling marais. They quite simply make the best crêpes and galettes I have ever tasted, clean and flavourful. They were very accomodating to me once I explained in my halting french about my strict vegan/low GI/gluten free diet. If museums are your past time of choice, as they are mine, then this area is terrifically loaded. From here, you can spit in any direction and hit one...so long as the wind is at your back. There is the Musee Picasso and the Musee de la Chasse et de la Nature where I browsed for ages loosing track of time and light. I enjoyed stopping and buying postcards to take back home and frame.

A La Petit Chaise at 36, rue de Grenelle has the distinction I believe of being the oldest restaurant in Paris. This is no small feat and their standards are reflective of this honour. The waiters are impeccably attired and very dashing. I allowed myself to swoon just once at afternoon tea. I am married afterall and like to save all my swooning for my gorgeous husband but sometimes, you know, the swoons they escape, little buggers have a mind of their own.

I cannot wait to get back home to my family. This is possibly the first time I have ever referred to the Unites States as my home...very strange...however, I feel my home could be the arctic circle so long as my son and my husband lived there. Oh, mercy, taxi time already! Must dash. This has been a most exciting trip for me and a very expensive one. I still cannot understand why designer clothes insist on being overly priced. Pictures to come soon.

Homeward bound. Onwards, driver.

Lilly Donaldson leaving Louis Vuitton, Paris Fashion Week 2010

Bianca Balti

The greatest. Miss Natasha Poly

Monika Jagaciak

A Face In The Crowd

2010-03-10T10:51:00.000-08:00

A Face In The Crowd by me. Mixed media oils/acrylic/pastel on canvas.

Leather Works

2010-03-10T08:59:00.000-08:00

If I had to keep but one item to use as a daily staple it would be a well fitting, soft-as-butter, vintage high waisted black mini skirt. This superhero can take you from day to night without missing a single beat.

Black Lace

2010-03-10T08:39:00.000-08:00

I have way too much black lace festering in the back of my wardrobe and drawers to keep a multitude of goths/pre-teen twilighters happy but miraculously there is always room for more.

Wild About Wild Fox

2010-03-10T08:19:00.000-08:00

Call it what you may but I have always had a secret love affair with slutty, trailer-trash chic. Mix and Match anyone?

http://www.wildfoxcouture.com/

Daphne Groeneveld - A Face To Watch

2010-03-09T17:03:00.000-08:00

I am very excited to see what the future has in store for this 15 year old Dutch beauty.

Antonio Marras F/W 10.11 Milan

Emporio Armani F/W 10.11 MILAN

Federico Sangalli F/W 10.11 Milan

Giorgio Armani F/W 10.11 Milan

Versus F/W 10.11 Milan

Mood Board

2010-03-09T12:52:00.000-08:00

I came across these beauties from Studded Hearts and I simply had to share.

From London To Paris, Fashion Week 2010. I Did It!

2010-03-08T18:03:00.000-08:00

My very first blog entry has a mention of my very best friend and photographer extraordinaire *Alex. Alex and I met several years ago on a photoshoot. Not mine of course, at the time I was accompanying a sweet friend who was sent by her mother agency Models 1 to get some tests done for her pitifully blank portfolio. She was nervous, the shoot had nothing to do with me, I was there for support so brazenly I rang the doorbell three times in a row. The window above opened and a voice poured out "just because you can ring the shit out of my doorbell doesn't mean I will get there any quicker". We giggled at his doorstep shivering slightly in the light rain that begun to spatter.

Well, to cut a long story short, the shoot went magnificently, why wouldn't it? After all the model I speak of has now several years later reached the top of her game, she's a big deal in the fashion industry and walks season after season for the most prestigious shows. She has been photographed countless times and is a bonafide glossy cover star. The most visited fashion forum on the internet has over 1000 pages dedicated to her all made by fans who post images and comments on a weekly basis. So with the shoot over, my friend had to race off to yet another appointment. I stayed behind to help clear up the props and offered to get us some sandwhiches. OK, *Alex was (and still is) a cutie. I really didn't think I had a chance since he was so accustomed to being around preternaturally beautiful women but crushes however silly, do fill us with giddy hope. So I stayed, lingering, making myself useful. We talked and laughed about this and that and pissed around, both of us realising that a friendship was forming but never for a second guessing the impact we would have on each others lives years to come. He is still the person I go to when I need a shoulder to cry on and when good advice is thin on the ground *Alex always has surplus, sans the bullshit of fake friends who only tell you what they think you want to hear. I was dissapointed when he said he wanted his boyfriend to meet me but I guess I always knew somewhere inside that he is gay, *Alex is just too damn cool and too damn knowledgeable and too damn passionate about fashion and too damn gorg than most women I know to ever be straight.

He has also given me the best compliment I have ever recieved in my life. Being a photographer, it was not long before he picked up his camera and started shooting me. I was young and not nearly as camera shy as I am now. I remember to this day, the solemn look he gave when for a moment he stopped clicking and looked me square in the face and said "honey, you know something? You really are a strikingly beautiful girl. Not pretty. No one could ever call you that and nor should they. You are stunning and exotic and only a blessed bone structure can seperate the stunnings from the pretties." To get a compliment like that from a total stranger, without an angle or agenda, from a professional photographer who works with the top names! I love my husband dearly but I rank this compliment as my #1. I still have the prints from that day and they nestle nicely on top of my flea market find french table, right next to baby pictures of my darling son and my wedding day. Funnily enough, those pictures helped to secure me my own agency deal and whilst not nearly tall enough for the catwalk, I nevertheless earned good money from catalogues and beauty editorials. Ah, another life. Another time.

So, *Alex covered London Fashion Week which went off like a sky rocket on February 19th and like the good friend he is, allowed me to tag along. We took the red eye from JFK airport to London Heathrow. It is always electric to set foot on British soil. I love travelling and I love living abroad but London is and always will be my home sweet home.

The cocophony of noise that surrounds the shows, which start way before the audience are even seated, with throngs of people waiting outside dressed in black and talking short and sharp on Blackberries is nothing if not amazing. One has to be there to know of the fever of which I speak. It's insane. The shows which I enjoyed the most were:

(1)Sass & Bide who did gorgeous embellished pieces showcasing black and gold and white and gold - some of my favourite combinations.

(2) Paul Costelloe who dressed men for winter the way I see them in my minds eye: chiselled 1940's street glamour. Pomade slicked hair worn short and neat. Woollen coats that are both roomy and tailored at the same time, generously cut trousers tucked into workday boots. Smashing! I bought this one piece as a "just because" present for my husband:

(3) Maria Grachvogel whom I have long admired for her graceful eloquence, wit and panache. High class syle and unapologetic glamour are her stock and trade. She cuts beautifully with a firm understanding of the female figure, not as it is, but rather as it should be which allows even the most imperfect figure to look and feel its best. Always running the gamut with new and intriguing materials and print, Maria Grachvogel never dissapoints her loyal followers. I loved her entire show, especially these pieces which I long to see hanging in my own closet:

(4) Mulberry. I had love for them this season because they gave us a taste of the 60's with Bardotesqe romance in rich warm fabrics. Hemlines were kept short and sassy.

(5) Antonio Beradi for the use of structure and form, paired down glamour with a minimalist twist that cleverly incorporated peekaboo lace inserts and deep necklines. The show was breathtaking.

(6) Amanda Wakeley for her drapery and sweet use of silky flowy fabrics and unashamed use of fur. Worn with thick opaque tights and peep toe ankle boots, it was very easy to imagine wearing these pieces before 6pm. The models hair was left looking self-styled and lush. It was all very natural and organic.

(7) Burberry Prorsum was hands down my favourite LF show. I knew I would fall in love again and again as each model paraded perfectly formed, perfectly fitted sheepskin aviator style jackets and they were thick too, lush and so warm looking I felt snug just gazing! I collect Burberry distinctively as I know each piece will long outlast me and if cared for will become staples in my grand daughters wardrobe. I cried with glee as I saw how they channeled my most cherished 1960's style - short hemlines, hip length thick coats, OTK boots. Heaven IS Burberry Prorsum.

Currently, I am in Paris and the shows have been Très Magnifique! As soon as pictures are available I will update this post. It has been quite an experience and a whole lot of fun and now I cannot wait to do it all over again. Not everyone I met were pretentious as I had first anticipated, of course there will always be the try-hards and the poseur assholes who attempt to stand aloof with a failed air of self importance but hey, the music, parties and rain of champagne more than made up for them. Due to fly home to Frisco on Thursday 11th and as much as I have enjoyed myself, I miss my family terribly and can't wait to give out the presents so thoughtfully picked out. I do so hope they will like them and find them useful. For now, here is the schedule list:

Tuesday, March 2010, the 2nd

6:00 pm ANTHONY VACCARELLO

Joyce Palais Royal - 168/173 galerie de Valois - Paris 1er

7:00 pm NICOLAS ANDREAS TARALIS

Palais de Tokyo - 13 avenue du Président Wilson - Paris 16e

8:00 pm QUENTIN VERON

Culée du Pont Alexandre III - Paris 7e

9:00 pm FATIMA LOPES

BETC EURO RSCG - 85-87 rue du Faubourg Saint-Martin - Paris 10e

Wednesday, March 2010, the 3rd

10:00 pm DÉVASTÉE

BETC EURO RSCG - 85-87 rue du Faubourg Saint Martin - Paris 10e

11:00 pm MOON YOUNG HEE

Garage Turenne - 66 rue de Turenne - Paris 3e

12:00 pm TIM VAN STEENBERGEN

Door Studio - 9/9bis rue de Lesdiguières - Paris 4e

1:00 pm ANNE VALÉRIE HASH

Espace Commines - 17 rue Commines - Paris 3e

2:00 pm LIMI FEU Garage Turenne - 66 rue de Turenne - Paris 3e

3:00 pm DRIES VAN NOTEN See invitation

4:00 pm FELIPE OLIVEIRA BAPTISTA Lycée Turgot - 69 rue de Turbigo - Paris 3e

5:00 pm ROCHAS

7 place Vendôme - Paris 1er

6:00 pm GARETH PUGH

Palais de Tokyo - 13 avenue du Président Wilson - Paris 16e

7:00 pm PEACHOO+KREJBERG

Garage Turenne - 66 rue de Turenne - Paris 3e

8:00 pm RUE DU MAIL (by Martine Sitbon) 5 rue du Mail - Paris 2e

9:00 pm DAMIR DOMA Lycée Henri IV - 1 rue Clotilde - Paris 5e

Thursday, March 2010, the 4th

10:00 am

BALENCIAGA See invitation

11:00 am LIE SANG BONG Hôtel Westin - 3 rue de Castiglione - Paris 1er

12:00 pm HIROKO KOSHINO Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Soufflot*

1:00 pm MANISH ARORA Lycée Henri IV - 1 rue Clotilde - Paris 5e

2:00 pm SHARON WAUCHOB Les Beaux-Arts de Paris - salle Mélpomène - 13 quai Malaquais - Paris 6e

3:00 pm BALMAIN Intercontinental Paris le Grand - 2 rue Scribe - Paris 9e

4:00 pm BARBARA BUI Le Showcase - Pont Alexandre III - Paris 8e

5:00 pm RICK OWENS Palais de Chaillot - 1 place du Trocadéro - Paris 16e

6:00 pm LUTZ Garage Turenne - 66 rue de Turenne - Paris 3e

7:00 pm AF VANDEVORST Les Beaux-Arts de Paris - salle Mélpomène - 13 quai Malaquais - Paris 6e

8:00 pm NINA RICCI See invitation

9:00 pm BLESS Loft Sévigné - 46 rue de Sévigné - Paris 3e

Friday, March 2010, the 5th

10:00 am

RM BY THE DESIGNER ROLAND MOURET

Gymnase Japy - 2 rue Japy - Paris 11e

11:00 am ISSEY MIYAKE

Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Le Nôtre

12:00 pm GASPARD YURKIEVICH Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Soufflot*

1:00 pm BERNHARD WILLHELM Palais Brongniart - place de la Bourse - Paris 2e

2:30 pm CHRISTIAN DIOR Espace Ephémère Tuileries - Jardin des Tuileries – Paris 1er

3:30 pm ISABEL MARANT Couvent des Cordeliers - 15 rue de l'Ecole de Médecine - Paris 6e

4:30 pm VIVIENNE WESTWOOD Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

5:30 pm LANVIN Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

6:30 pm MAISON MARTIN MARGIELA Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

7:30 pm VÉRONIQUE LEROY Garage Turenne - 66 rue de Turenne - Paris 3e

8:30 pm YOHJI YAMAMOTO Lycée Carnot - 145 boulevard Malesherbes - Paris 17e

Saturday, March 2010, the 6th

9:30 am

JUNYA WATANABE See invitation

10:30 am

HAIDER ACKERMANN Les Beaux-Arts de Paris - salle Mélpomène - 13 quai Malaquais - Paris 6e

11:30 am

TSUMORI CHISATO Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Soufflot*

12:30 pm CHAPURIN Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Le Nôtre*

1:30 pm VIKTOR & ROLF

Espace Ephémère Tuileries - Jardin des Tuileries – Paris 1er

2:30 pm CACHAREL 7 place Vendôme - Paris 1er

3:30 pm SOPHIA KOKOSALAKI Hôtel Westin - 3 rue de Castiglione - Paris 1er

4:30 pm ANN DEMEULEMEESTER Couvent des Cordeliers - 15 rue de l'Ecole de Médecine - Paris 6e

5:30 pm COMME DES GARCONS See invitation

7:00 pm JEAN PAUL GAULTIER 325 rue Saint-Martin - Paris 3e

8:00 pm LOEWE Ecole de Médecine - 12 rue de l'Ecole de Médecine - Paris 6e

Sunday, March 2009, the 7th

10:00 am

KARL LAGERFELD Espace Ephémère Tuileries - Jardin des Tuileries - Paris 1er

11:00 am

ANDREW GN Les Beaux-Arts de Paris - salle Mélpomène - 13 quai Malaquais - Paris 6e

12:00 pm AKRIS Palais de Chaillot - 1 place du Trocadéro - Paris 16e

1:00 pm CÉLINE See invitation

2:00 pm COSTUME NATIONAL Ecole de Médecine - 45 rue des Saints-Pères - Paris 6e

3:00 pm HUSSEIN CHALAYAN Couvent des Cordeliers - 15 rue de l'Ecole de Médecine - Paris 6e

4:00 pm SONIA RYKIEL Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

5:00 pm

JOHN GALLIANO Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

6:00 pm MARTIN GRANT Chapelle des Petits Augustins - Les Beaux-Arts de Paris - 14 rue Bonaparte - Paris 6e

8:30 pm GIVENCHY Voir invitation

Monday, March 2010, the 8th

10:00 am

STELLA MCCARTNEY See invitation

11:00 am

EMANUEL UNGARO Hôtel Westin - 3 rue de Castiglione - Paris 1er

12:00 pm LÉONARD Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Le Nôtre*

1:00 pm GUY LAROCHE Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Soufflot*

2:00 pm GIAMBATTISTA VALLI 7 place Vendôme - Paris 1er

3:00 pm ZUCCA Couvent des Cordeliers - 15 rue de l'Ecole de Médecine - Paris 6e

4:00 pm KENZO Espace Ephémère Tuileries - Jardin des Tuileries - Paris 1er

5:00 pm COMMUUN Palais de la Découverte - avenue Franklin Roosevelt - Paris 8e

6:00 pm VANESSA BRUNO Palais de Chaillot - 1 place du Trocadéro - Paris 16e

8:00 pm YVES SAINT LAURENT Grand Palais - entrée avenue Winston Churchill - Paris 8e

Tuesday, March 2010, the 9th

9:30 am

MARIE BISHARA Ambassade d'Egypte - 56 avenue d'Iéna - Paris 16e

10:30 am CHANEL Grand Palais - avenue du Général Eisenhower - Paris 8e

11:30 am

THIERRY MUGLER Palais de Tokyo - 13 avenue du Président Wilson - Paris 16e

12:30 pm JEAN-CHARLES DE CASTELBAJAC Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Le Nôtre*

1:30 pm INGRID VLASOV Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Soufflot*

2:30 pm CHLOÉ Espace Ephémère Tuileries - Jardin des Tuileries - Paris 1er

3:30 pm JUNKO SHIMADA Hôtel Westin - 3 rue de Castiglione - Paris 1er

5:00 pm VALENTINO Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

6:00 pm MARITHÉ & FRANCOIS GIRBAUD Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

7:00 pm

SHIATZY CHEN Les Beaux-Arts de Paris - salle Mélpomène - 13 quai Malaquais - Paris 6e

Wednesday, March 2010, the 10th

9:30 am TALBOT RUNHOF Hôtel Westin - 3 rue de Castiglione - Paris 1er

10:30 am ELIE SAAB Espace Ephémère Tuileries - Jardin des Tuileries - Paris 1er

11:30 am

WUNDERKIND Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Soufflot*

12:30 pm VALENTIN YUDASHKIN Le Carrousel du Louvre - Salle Le Nôtre*

2:30 pm LOUIS VUITTON See invitation

3:30 pm PAUL & JOE Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

4:30 pm HERMÈS Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

5:30 pm CERRUTI Halle Freyssinet - 55 boulevard Vincent Auriol - Paris 13e

7:00 pm MIU MIU See invitation

* Le Carrousel du Louvre, 99, rue de Rivoli, 75001 Paris

Dior Wedge Shoe 2010

2010-03-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

If I don't get my feet into these perfect little beauties soon I fear I might explode! I am currently on the waiting list for the black pair, priced at $1,150.00.

Dior has excelled himself with the 2010 footwear collection. These wedges are sensational. I always tend to favour a tall (4.5 - 5 inch) stack heel over any other type of heel, be it conical, stilleto, kitten whatever. However I am very particular about the shape of the stack. It must must must be all the same width, absolutely no tapering anywhere. Like a solid tall rectangle. Like a skyscraper true. If anyone out there shares my passion for such heels, you will undoubtedly share in my misery over the scarcity. Sometimes Chanel will do one, like the black patent leather cut-out booties much favoured by style maverick and raving beauty Alexa Chung. I narrowly missed out on these boots and have been kicking myself everyday. Of course, I would have much preferred this Dior version without the wedge in the middle, a hidden platform would have finished off the job nicely and created a truly classic lasting shoe. Still, I cannot wait to get mine and just like the model in the picture I shall be wearing them all over the place with ankle socks.

The big move, new friends and a knitting circle.

2010-03-05T12:17:00.000-08:00

The move from the City of Angels to San Francisco came swiftly and thus it was readily accepted and welcomed without worry and pomp. You see, my ever so brilliant husband was relocated due to work. We had a choice between NY and Frisco and whilst my bestest friend (he's my Jane and I am his Betty) resides in bohemian splendour amongst heaps of velvet patchwork, antique black lace curtains and vintage brass knick-knacks in trendy Williamsburg, I myself, was not quite in the mood for the upbeat constant flow of people and non stop information that is New York city. However, we may yet end up there. The option is not all together lost to us.

I found our new apartment almost at once, which never happens to me. I don't have good luck with property hunting. I take the best of what I find and normally what I find is never the gem I long for in my minds eye. This time was different. The move came with its own luck and I was able to find a wonderful old brick building that used to be a warehouse that was transformed into 15 seperate HUGE apartments. Everything in it is giantesque from the windows which cover floor to ceiling and are strategically placed one on practically every wall. The light I tell you, the light is glorious! The ceilings are high and the floor is refurbished wood of some sort, I don't quite know which species of tree but the hue is dark and rich and positively reverberates old world decadent charm through its numerous layers of thick varnish. I enjoy filling space with things, many, many things so I shall enjoy the challenge of turning this loft space into a cavern of bohemian rhaspsody. The furniture we shipped from our old cottage on the West Side hardly makes a dent in all this space and looks rather forlorn in one little corner by the window. I lived in England for the longest time and anyone who has ever dwelt there can appreciate how all this space is literally blowing my mind.

My teenage son has settled nicely into his new school and already, four months on has a new best buddy he cannot live or play Halo without. He's a good kid with a constant 3.5 GPA. He seldom answers back, argues with me or throws tantrums but he is still a teenager and his job therefore is to piss me off which he manages to do with some wit and style so I don't mind at all. In fact I enjoy musing at his behaviour, all the things he gets into which are new to him at present but have all been tried and tested by practically all teenagers everywhere throughout modern history. I was still so very young when he was born, barely a child myself, the consequence of which is felt today when we stroll arm in arm through the foray of choice that is China Town and people call me his sister or girlfriend. He doesn't mind the first but the latter he says makes his stomach go queasy. Gee, thanks son.

This blog was not born of my mind. I mean to say, it was not planned or schemed and mused over as most things of this nature normally are. I never felt myself interesting although I can say with some modesty that I have thus far lived a tres interesting life. Yes, there has been travel to exotic locations, parties on yachts, lovers galore and dare I admit it --- debauchery! Scandalous liasons backstage and in chauffered bodygaurded cars, trists in 5 Star hotels that once saw me running stark naked and giggling at three in the morning though hallways being chased by a drunken rockstar hellbent on finishing what he started in his dressing room; my hair flying out behind wildly, madly like a tangled flag teasing an already heated bull. More on this later, but suffice to say I have lived my youth fully not an ounce of its preciousness was ever wasted in dull boring class rooms and on even duller teachers. With a finger flip to the endless sky I cry "life is my teacher, to hell with maths skills". Awfully wonderful stroke of luck then that my husband has a degree in mathematics and can balance my check book for me. See? Isn't life genius! My mother, bless her, did not have any reason to worry after all.

It was my neighbour and new friend *Minnie who set up this blog for me after making me swear solemnly that I will at least try to jot something down weekly. Here is an account of how we met... One morning my husband and I had a little tiff. He charged out our apartment and as he was half way down the stairwell at the point where it begins to turn, I took off my quilted French Sole ballet flat and hurled it at his head. He ducked, pertinently turned and blew me a big smacker of a kiss. Unable to make any intelligible response fast enough, I think I may have throat screamed. I heard him whistling satisfactorily all the way down the stairs and through the main door. Nothing, I repeat nothing is more infuriating than trying to pick a fight with someone who does not have the decency to fight back! My husband knows how to handle me better than any man I have ever met. In this way, in his inimittable style, most of our arguments are resolved, dissolved, rendered useless on the spot. How in truth can I stay mad at an angel? I think here, I should explain something: my husband is ridiculously intelligent in that bookish academic way. It is scary that he can use that much of his brain all at once. But he has another arsenal, one far more potent and dangerous to me - he is unbelievably, uncategorically good looking. I don't mean attractive in the healthy athletic sense or even the classic all-american chiselled jaw college type. I just mean, plainly put, beautiful. Like Michelangelo's David, he is timeless. I don't know how else to exlain it. Perhaps if you were to breed a hybrid of Cary Grant, Rory Calhoun, John Gavin and Christopher Reeve with the delicacy of a few elfin features here and there in particular the mountainous cheekbones and elongated green eyes and the pursed softness of full pillowy bee stung lips, you may get something closely resembling my husband. But I digress, while all this hullabaloo was going on my dear friend and new confidante *Minnie, opened her door and proclaimed in that booming husky voice of hers "you are fabulous my dear!" Fabulous, me? I didn't for one minute believe so and I had to blink several times in that way I have that lets others know I am indeed thinking. "I love your look darling, it's the perfect look for an argument with a gorgeous man" she continued, smiling and gesturing with her cigarette. I looked down at myself. One shoe on, one shoe waiting to be collected at the foot of the stairs, child's vintage 70's tank top, panties and oh yes, bright red lips courtesy of Yves Saint Laurent Rouge Pur Opium Red. In retrospect, yes, I suppose anyone who applies red lipstick for the sole purpose of shouting at her husband should be deemed fabulous.

I invited *Minnie inside for morning coffee and homemade (by me) frangipane filled croissants. Thus a strong new friendship was forged over boy talk and pastries. Darling *Minnie inro'd me to the other ladies in our building, all I must say just as eccentric and barking mad as myself so it is no small wonder that we clicked at once. Their names are *Sophia, *Betsy and *Leigh. So far we have met for many brunches, lunches and dinners. We sneak off to have guilty smokes on the rooftop terrace like a gaggle of miscreant teenage girls bunking off school. By far the best thing we have done, to my mind anyway, was to create a knitting circle. It made perfect sense since all of us are artistic and creative. *Minnie is a fashion stylist, *Betsy is a supreme hair stylist/colorist and Leigh like me is a painter/fine artist although she she is more inclined towards illustrations. To date we have had something like twenty-one knit-meets and it's all a rollicking good laugh. I play The Inkspots, Ella Fitzgerald, Julie London and Monica Zetterlund on my gramaphone. Sometimes the mood will call for Carla Bruni, Madeleine Peyroux and Édith Piaf but always there is Irish Coffee (very laced), Red Wine, Caipirinha's and tons and tons of tea. Earl Grey, Oolong and Green Jasmine in particular. We sit, we knit, we talk about life, love and fashion. Slowly, I noticed more and more that I was voted as the one to come to for crises and affairs of the heart. Whenever my girlfriends have a problem with their men, it is me they call without regard for the hour. *Sophia, who never gives out compliments unless they are dished out on her first actually called me wise. As I reflect on this word, rolling it around in my mouth like a gumball, I can't quite see how it fits with the woman I see in the mirror. Alas, none of us are to ourselves the way we appear to others so I must trust in my friends. They think it clever that I should share this apparent insight I have with...strangers. It's OK I say, as long as no one really listens to me. Being held accountable has never really been my thing.

Best Thing I read This Week

Piers: 'Kate Moss kicked me'.
The newspaper editor-turned-TV personality strutted his stuff down the runway of a Haiti fashion benefit last month alongside Naomi Campbell, who organised the bash to aid victims of the country's devastating earthquake in January. And after Morgan stepped off the catwalk to make way for Dame Shirley Bassey, he felt something hit his leg - and found an hysterical Moss on the floor behind him. He wrote in Live magazine: "I suddenly felt a large thudding pain in my leg. 'Ouch!' I yelled, in genuine agony, 'What the hell...?' "I turned to see Kate Moss scrunched up into a cackling ball of laughter, looking like something straight out of The Witches of Eastwick. She'd just run up and kicked me as hard as she could in the upper calf."

Words alone are not enough to express how much I adore this woman. She does exactly what she feels, the way she feels it. Although I suspect she is a deeply retrospective thinker. No one can possess the soulful eyes she has, with all that worldy experience and not be a thinker. Her diesel is emotion and thats all this model runs on. Mossy, you are a bad bad bitch!