Peer Pressure

 

"Ow, you hit me with the phone!"

 

 

"My mum and Dad are gonna be so mad at me..."

 

"Peer pressure. I'm far too sensitive."

"I'm feeling a little woozy here."

I'd like to think that this post signifies, "friends - I have given up."

I have stopped trying to blog, dress up, or just generally force the issue. When it comes it comes. So the first instinct I've had to whack something on the internet recently has been this highly-exciting purchase of a secondhand slouchy beige jumper (from Traid in Wood Green no less - back in my natural habitat), and to dive into this Nineties redux that - although we love it to death - has already been over-and-overdone.

With Scream, you were either a Stu or Billy girl. That was that. You could not be both. I remain a Stu fan. And his cream, chunky fisherman's knit has been stuck in my head for over 15 years, as much as those one liners from the brilliant closing scene.

Drew Barrymore puts in a good creamy-cottons showing as well in that film. For like ten minutes, obviously.

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Ugly Shoe Wishlist: updated

 

Pre-Fall: feels like a con, even though it's good for the brands, and fashion is good for the economy and frankly we're an insatiable bunch all things considered...But it still sends me limp. I just don't care. That is until I saw Celine this Pre-Fall (would say season, but it's only a season in the loosest of marketing terms) present my dream workwear look for 2013. 'Work wardrobe' for me has so far meant just wearing thicker tights, but my very-polished-friend Sarah says navy is the key atonement for a more corporate mentality. Ok Sarah I will try some navy, but only if I can wear some of these SHOES with it.

 

From top: Celine x 5ish, Acne (the ones where her bag looks like a chimpanzee clinging on - also a great contender for new bestest ugliest shoe) and at bottom Maison Margiela Couture.*

*Couture Week - though following Pre-Fall, clearly not a con but something I don't understand all the same.

 

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Three things to do in the event of your next migraine

 

 

 

 

 

 

From top: finally buy a Peter Pilotto for Kipling rucksack (this one used to be Daisy Lowe's and was found at Oxfam's second Rumble in the Jumble sale over the weekend), visit Death: A self-portrait at the Wellcome Collection and wear as much print and fringing as you can fit into one inappropriately-short-for-a-Sunday outfit. Colour will make it all better, I promise.

 

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The year ahead

 

It may be sporadic, it may be lacking in pretty outdoorsy pictures of me wearing a new hat or eating Dim Sum, but mark my words....It's 2013, and the blog will rise again!!

 

 

(Or at least, this is how you start to talk when someone does little illustrations of you, making your hair much sleeker than in real life and even painting your nails for you. N'awww, I'm liking doodle me more already!)

 

 

Illustrations by Megan McCormick. Ta Meg! X

 

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Odd stuff my Mum says that kinda works

When asked, "what rules do you live your life by?" (a question people often ask each other), I tend to quote direct from the book of Mum. It usually blows people's minds, the philosophical reasoning of my own mother. So if the start of 2013 has been a little flat thus far, then here's some lifting talk - as dispensed to me over the years....

 

"You're the gang!"

 

Mum translation: pretty literal actually - sod 'em all. To every "x said I look like Where's Wally in this hat" or "so-and-so thinks my eyebrows are taking over my temples," all I ever get back is,"meh, forget it, because YOU ARE the gang!"

 

"Boyfriends aren't for you, just like goat's cheese isn't for me."

 

Mum translation: sometimes society pressures you into doing things that you really don't want to do. Like eating certain foods to be polite, or one day moving in with someone you only really like from a certain angle when you squint (because it's time? Because they're there?) Why struggle, just so society gets its way all the time? Isn't the whole goat's cheese thing bad enough?

 

"If you're so original then tell me, where's your cape?"

 

Mum translation: people who have to constantly say they are unique/clever/successful/brilliant in one way or another usually aren't at all. Here is her litmus test for true innovation.

 

"You're just dipping your toes in the water!"

 

Mum translation: Context please. Unless you've ever given birth to another person, you don't know anything about anything just yet. You're just starting out, so don't sweat it.

 

 

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A bit of a singular issue

 

It started with this very dress but in all honestly, it was only a matter of time before SOMETHING set it off again...a crack in the pavement, perhaps? My 'grid' obsession has officially re-exploded. And this season no one is safe, especially not a little checks-weakling like myself.

Spring/Summer'13 - you've got me by the short and curlies:

 

Clockwise from top left: Marni skirt, Marni tote, Kenzo sweater, Forever 21 jumper, Acne dress, Topshop treggings (I see them brazenly poking fun at my thighs, but I still can't help myself!)

Yes, there was yet more on the SS13 caltwalk from the great arbiter of all things grid-like: Marni.

But alas....what's this? Armani's getting involved now? 

 

Well blow me down! If it isn't Chanel having a go too.

See, no one is safe!

So, grid-like checks (is there actually an official fashiony name for this? Over to you Elle....) Love? Hate? A blog post wasted?

A very middle class Christmas

I'm going to make you all feel uncomfortable for a moment. I'm going to talk about class, ladies and gentleman.

Here in Britain, we still talk about our peculiar legacy of 'class structure'. Though mostly, at nauseating middle class dinner parties where we - ok I - have had a few gins (note: Kettle Chips adored the land over, but scowls for bringing smooshy sausage rolls and anything overtly cheesy that doesn't come hand-baked.)

I was FURIOUS when I discovered at said dinner party that I was actually middle class. "But I went to a comprehensive!" I cried, shovelling rocket and sundried tomato salad into my mouth in enraged protest, "how dare you question...my roots."

But look. The pictures don't lie. Here I am, bearing witness to my family's first Christmas cheese board this week. With just the ONE variety of cheddar on offer:

First, we prep the board. It's a shaky start - do we leave the label there for cheese identification purposes? Is it ok to have a jar of Branston out?

Eventually, we find an arrangement that's suitably soothing. And then we DINE.

Mum's even got her ironic Burberry checks on look. I would hashtag this defining moment 'middle class problems' of course, but it was bloody lovely after all that initial anxiety subsided and we finally hit the cracker deck...

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