Sunday, 29 May 2011
This weekend I've been attempting a general spring clean/tidy up - a little sad when it's a bank holiday, but the weather isn't too great and I've had flu for the last week and a half. So far my tidying efforts have been distracted by rearranging my bookcase and digging out old magazines.
The 20th issue of POP (dear Katie Grand's last) is the one I've spend most of the last day and a half cradling in my lap. In my mind POP has never recovered from her departure. I still buy it on occasion, but I don't actually read it. I flick though, put it down and never pick it up again.... but then again the girl I long to be hasn't been on the cover since, and really could Dasha do it better? No.
Drew, Drew, I'm so in love with you.
Earlier this week I headed to the iconic 33 Portland Place for the QVC AW11 press event. Now I know what you're thinking, because I was thinking it too... 'QVC, like, the TV channel?'
In the past I'll admit I thought it was for lonely people stuck at home all day with nothing better to do then watch people flog birth stone jewellery in an over enthusiastic manner, but times have changed. With a mouth full of macaroons and a glass full of bubbles I made my way around the the gorgeous home, jewellery and fashion departments but it was the beauty area that really caught my eye. A banquet table stuffed with goodies from Bare Minerals, Nails Inc, OPI, L'Occitane, Bliss, Smashbox, Elemis, New CID..... the list is never ending and was about as far away from my perception of QVC as it's possible to get. Now perhaps I'm just really late here but I always assumed that what they were selling on the channel was what they had in stock... not so. Items appearing on TV are their 'today's special value'... Am I late to the party or what?
Sunday, 15 May 2011
Sunday, 8 May 2011
I hope you won't think I'm being over dramatic, but for me, a constant source of stress and sorrow in life has been the dreaded 'S' word... Summer.
At first glance there shouldn't be that much about light evenings, endless BBQs and picnics, and jugs of Pimms that render them immediately sinister - but for me there always is - it keeps me awake at night, and causes me to remove all items from my wardrobe and drawers, thus transforming my bedroom into a jumble sale, it's the age old problem of what to wear.
This year the seasons seem to be toying with inhabitants of the British Isles by forcing summer upon us well before we are ready for it, and besides, we haven't even had a proper spring!
My main gripe with summer is that it here in the UK the first mini heat-wave produces a temporary form of mental illness which seems to swoop across the length and breadth of this fair isle. Overweight men with hairy chests march proudly down Oxford Street, while in Marks and Spencers by the packet salad you're forced to jostle with masses of pasty cellulite covered legs or trip over the hems of 'ethnic print' maxi dresses as you reach for the baby-leaf and pea shoots.
Ok, so this sort of thing might be acceptable on some Greek Island, but you're not on a Greek Island are you? No, you're in London, and Boots in Camden Town is almost sold out of plasters because you've all cut your feet on your silly new sandals - and by the way, it's April.*
*Must at this point draw attention to the weirdos you see during heat-waves dressed for a blizzard. They alarm me also.
This troubles me summer after summer, the way in which otherwise sensible people chuck off their layers with gay abandon only to moan that the too-short-shorts they're wearing are chaffing, or that actually, it's a bit nippy, their fake tan is a little streaky and 'Oh no! I don't have a brolly'!!!! Because as we all know IT WILL RAIN.
No one ever learns, and more importantly, nor do I. The same faux pas, time after time.
During the winter I like to channel Alison Mosshart, spring and autumn it's Keira and Sienna in The Edge of Love, and now at long last I have a summer icon I can stick to. All floaty dresses, lace, leggings, big hair and eye-liner, right under my nose all this time...
Tonight Matthew, I'm going to be.... Kate Bush