These boots were made for walking....just not on my feet

I don’t know what’s with me at the moment, but I only have eyes for boots right now, and though I do love my new Aldo’s I just can’t stop yearning for more; flat, platform, open toe, mesh – every I turn there are more boots begging me to buy them! Top of my lust-o-meter (my list of things which I love, but can’t afford or wear), scoring a stonking 9.5 are these beauties by Christopher Kane for Versus – aka. The boots which won’t love me back. Not only are they totally out of my price range at £900 (ouch!), but there’s also a waiting list (not that this really matters to me because of my first point, but thought it was worth mentioning)! The problem is I can’t move past them, and every time I go out to look for something to see me through the winter (and replace my rather battered and smelly Gap biker boots from last year which are currently soldiering on with the help of some Odour-Eaters – tres chic!), all I can think about is the perfect biker/ Chelsea combo, the soft soft shiny leather, and obviously that big old glistening rock! Nothing else even comes close. It’s like when you first fall in love all and can’t imagine ever feeling that way about anyone else again, ever. Sadly though my love costs a month and a half’s rent – rent which I can only just afford as it is. I’ve even tried justifying it at cost per wear. At £900, if I wear them every day from today all the way through to April (which let’s be honest is beyond unlikely), then they’ll still cost me £6 per wear, which isn’t really a bargain now is it?! So, it is with deep regret that I admit that this love is to remain unrequited. All I can hope now is that Toppers or ASOS feel the same as I do and create a boot ‘inspired’ by them in the next couple of weeks….I live in hope.

The Dalston doorstop

Wow, what a morning, it may be Saturday, but there’s no rest for the wicked…or the lazy for that matter! I did the Nike+/ Grazia 10k Human Race (or 5k in my case…well I showed willing!) this morning at the horribly uncivilised hour of 10.20am. Anyway, returned home to find my fabulous housemate Holly using her Nike hi-tops as a doorstop – LOVE IT! They’re actually men’s, and she rocks them with her skinny or boyfriend cut jeans. It’s all about the Swoosh today!

p.s. get ya own Nike Dalston doorstop at ASOS – or if you have a slightly larger budget check out these babies by UES.

Great film, shame about the premiere!

I went to the premiere of An Education last night. The film as it happens was really thoroughly enjoyable; it had a great pace, was well acted, funny and touching. Carey Mulligan was captivating as the lead Jenny, and reminded me of a young Katie Holmes – all dimples, eager eyes and naivety. The costumes were fantastic – and made me long for the demure glamour of the 1960’s, when sexy was a well fitting A-line dress and a kitten heel. The premiere itself however was absolutely ghastly. All in all I was stood around for over an hour. This time was divided between standing in Leicester Square (a place I try not even to pass through – let alone loiter in) waiting to be let onto the red carpet by a deep-fried doughnut of a bouncer, and standing in the lobby of the Vue (yuck yuck yuck) waiting for screen 7 to be ready! Why anyone chooses to have their premiere in that hell hole I’ll never know – it’s hard to imagine a place with less charm or character. The motley crew of staff looked like they’d wandered in to see a film one day, and just never worked out how to get out again. One of them wasn’t even wearing shoes. And sadly the guests weren’t much better. A mixed bunch of scantily-sequin-clad over-baked Northern lasses on a big night out in London; posh girls in ’90’s dresses looking like they’d come straight off the set of Four Weddings, and a handful arty film types with frizzy curls and boring shoes. There was even a woman in a floor-length crushed velvet coat – now when was the last time you saw one of those?!

In retrospect I really should have made the effort to go to the after party. With this lot by way of competition I could easily have begun the day as the new Miss Dominic Cooper!

The 'What in god's name are you wearing' Factor

Oh Cheryl Cheryl Cheryl, how I love thee (and what I’d do for your body), but even I as a fan, (not to mention a girl not unknown to take it that step “too far” in the fashion stakes), can’t think of any possible excuse for what I saw tonight. As a short girl I accepted a long time ago that there are certain things I just can’t wear; thigh-high boots (I look like puss-in), shoulder pads (I look like an American football player) and calf-length skirts (there are no words). It’s a sad day when you realise you’ll never be able to carry something off – being stubborn I usually insist on trying it out before eventually admitting defeat (I will admit here and now that I’m still persisting with the shoulder pads). However, before tonight I’d never even considered having to avoid split-to-the-thigh baggy pants, and neither should have Cheryl Cole! It wasn’t just the pants that were wrong though (or the strangely disturbing knees which kept playing peek-a-boo from behind them) – it was the whole bloody lot! The colossal shouldered cropped jacket; the hung too-low slashed-to-the-thigh trousers; the stumpy stompy ankle boots – even Christina Aguilera wouldn’t have tackled this combo! The good thing is there are a few lessons that we can all take-away from this unfortunate episode;

1. No matter how good your figure there are some things NO ONE can get away with.
2. Don’t wear too many trends at the same time – you’ll look like a victim (possibly not just of fashion)
3. There’s a fine line between fashion and fancy dress (hopefully most of you knew that already)

What I really don’t get is why she ever agreed to the slutty toy soldier get-up in the first place. Over the past few years Cheryl’s worked hard to break into the world of fashion and carve out her reputation as a style icon worthy of the cover of Vogue. All I can think is that with all the speculation as to her abilities as a singer, and whether or not she would be singing live, that her team cleverly persuaded her that it would be in her best interest to try and distract us with a fashion faux-pas so large that her singing was the last thing on our minds. Or at least I hope so!

p.s. for those who have no idea what i'm talking about (and those with strong stomachs who wish to see it again) - click here.

Mellow Yellows

Just couldn't resist snapping this pic on the bus this morning and sharing it with you – there’s just something about this image which makes me smile! I SO wish I had the legs for brightly coloured tights; next to white I think yellow has to be the least flattering colour tights you can get, so I was super jealous when I saw her rocking them this morning! Loving the patent brogues too - top fashion points all round!

New boots: Part one and Part two

Part one

So – originally I was just going to show off my lovely new boots (top). They’re from Aldo (£100), and I got them just this afternoon. I have to admit I’m rather smitten. They were one of those naughty lunchtime purchases – you know, when you pop out for a tuna mayo baguette, and come back looking sheepish with a shopping bag half dragging behind you hoping no-one will notice. Anyway, not only did I not mean to buy anything, but boot-wise I was planning to get a pair of DM’s this season. To cut a long story short I tried a pair on (short, black patent), and looked like an Eastern European shot putter with one too many Goulash’s under her belt (I was aiming for Alice Dellal – look-wise that is) – even the sales assistant looked embarrassed for me. Then, in a world of confusion, despair and self-doubt I wondered into Aldo and found these beauties! Now, I know they look a little slutty - I admit they have the potential to be a bit Pussycat doll if worn the wrong way, but I promise I don’t own a hot pant or a pair of leather chaps, so I think we’re alright. In fact, with a black opaque they blend into the leg rather flatteringly, and what with their heel and studs I feel all Suzi Quatro, which can only be a good thing.


Part two

One of the girls in the office told me that my lovely new boots borrowed heavily from a pair of Marc Jacobs boots she has. Me being me I set off on a mission to track down my Aldo booties well-bread cousins (couldn’t find them btw if anyone can help?). Instead (and to my horror) I stumbled across possibly the least likely celebrity fashion line ever; Carlos by Carlos Santana. Oh yes – my Aldo boots bear a striking resemblance to a pair of Carlos by Carlos Santana boots (bottom) which I found on the American Elle website, eek! Now I like a bit of rock/salsa/jazz fusion guitar as much as the next gal, but why on earth anyone (even his mama) would want to wear footwear designed by the man I have no idea!

My only regret is that I wore the buggers home so there’s no chance of a refund. Now every time I wear them it will be to the soundtrack of ‘Smooth’ looping round my head – fan-bloody-tastic!

Beret-ing!

There were two women wearing berets on my bus this morning – neither of them well. Forget harem pants, berets are the single hardest item to wear. The woman sat opposite me in the red beret looked like a glace cherry topped bakewell, whilst the other, sporting a beige beret (yes, it was as bad as it sounds) looked like she had some sort of growth protruding from the side of her head! I’d hazard a guess that these were not the looks either were going for – i’d suspect it was chic, eek! Anyway, the fact is berets are not one of those items which you can just ‘throw on’. You can’t just toss it on your head and hope for the best....unless;
a. You’re continental
b. You're inherently stylish[1]


Other clothes to avoid unless you are of continental origin or inherently stylish are;
a. Loafers (also, don’t even think about it if you are under 5’ 7”)
b. Corduroy in any form

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[1] Beret bus ladies were neither a. nor b.

The first post: Getting to know me

So, today I’m wearing a jumpsuit, hhmmm. It’s like i felt the fear, recognised the danger....and then gave them both the finger. Bad move. Now I’m not sure (20-something years of scrutinising myself in the mirror may have led to mild body dysmorphia), but I believe I look like a cross between some sort of upholstered easy chair (small waist belt+ a bloat never = a good look), and a chubby ‘80’s wannabe (the latter being my neutral mode). Either way I’m stuck like this for the next 9 hours – wish me luck!