Hats Off To You

I never figured myself for a hat gal. Even in the freezing conditions of bonny Scotland, it's always been me and my napper against the world - no hats required. After a brief dabble in beanies recently - claiming in this photo on Instagram that 'hats are my thing now' - I reverted back to my hatless ways.

A chance trip to Tesco last weekend changed all that. While perusing the cheese counter (Mm, cheese.), a girl walked past - basket in one hand, phone in the other... and a chic looking fedora up top. I'm not sure what I found so mesmerizing about it - I must have been on a cheese high - but I continued down the same aisle to have another look. 

I found myself at a perfect hat creeping distance in the frozen aisle when suddenly, she turned round. Panicked, I reached for the closest freezer and pulled a grab of green beans, popped them in my basket and walked away. That was a close one.

Every time I go into my freezer and see those green beans, I can't help but think "Damn - I gotta get me a hat."

Asos

Aww, look how happy they are together!

That's it - I'm getting one.

Are you a mad hatter? Hook a sista up!

Last Thing You Did Tag!

When I hear the word 'tag', I usually associate it with the gut wrenching moments leading up to me seeing a less than flattering photo from a recent night out that has been unleashed to the unforgiving eyes of Facebook. 

Not anymore! I've decided to get involved in Tag posts because I think they're a fun thing to do between your more personal posts. I got this tag from Andreea :) Here goes!

1. Who did you last talk to? My friend Louise in work. We went to grab a coffee and I was telling her how I ate a big lunch yesterday in the hopes of having a smaller dinner at night… but ended up eating everything in my kitchen by 9pm. Woopsee.

2. What was the last outfit you wore? Ummmm, if now doesn’t count then yesterday I was wearing… black leggings, Asos ankle boots and a black and embellished dress from Forever 21!

3. What was the last thing you ate? Belvita biscuits for breakfast this morning. S’all about having that balanced diet eh?

4. What was the last thing you drank? Water. I’m really bad at drinking it (I struggle to have more than one glass of anything a day unless I remind myself to drink – cups of coffee excluded) so I keep a glass on my desk at all times!

5. Last sport you played? Personally, I see shopping as a sport… but I’m not sure how widespread that opinion is so I’d sayyy… last week when my boyfriend let me have a shot of his kickboxing gloves (I was shattered after 5 minutes!).

6. Who did you email last?  I emailed Helen over at www.thelovecatsinc.com to sort out some advertising space! J

7. Which one of your friends did you talk last?  My old flatmate about half an hour ago. He keeps misspelling words in his text messages and I’m winding him up about it :)

8. What was the last thing you watched on TV? Revenge last night – I know, I know! But it’s one of those shows that’s so bad, it’s good. Don't judge me.

9. Last blog you checked? The LittleMagpie – it’s one of my favourites and Amy has just posted her first YouTube video. Go watch it!

10. Last game you played? “Bagsy not cooking dinner” – that counts, right? A game I always win…

I tag YOU!

Keep, Toss, Maybe...

Now, I am no fashionista - I paint over cracked nails and probably wear too much makeup. I don’t live out my everyday life in heels, I don’t keep up with the couture fashion shows and I’m not one of those uber fashionable girls you see papped in the fashion magazines as ‘high street fashion girls’. I am none of these things…but dammit, I like to look good!

 Somewhere between Monday and Sunday I can be found weaving in and out of the likes of Topshop, H&M, Debenhams, Zara and whichever cutesy boutiques happen to get in my road along the way. On the rare occasions that I emerge from these havens with a purchase, I am quick to love it, wear it, and become bored of it. If I were to imagine that any of these items in my wardrobe had feelings I’d struggle to feel anything less than the worst human being in the world…and would almost definitely be reported to the royal society for the prevention of cruelty to clothes by a number of my friends.

Today was a hard day; a day that no girl likes to go through. It was clear out day in the wardrobe department. As I battled with myself over the worth of numerous dresses, shoes, tops and bags, I could feel them weeping in my arms…some admittedly still with tags on. Nowadays though, we don’t have to send our clothes to that great big wardrobe in the sky or, heaven forbid, charity shops (I’m sorry, they can have old board games and books galore, but I simply can’t hand over a Topshop ’11 leather blazer RRP’ing at £75 and watch it get shelved at £4.50). We have been saved by a boom of online fashion sites dedicated to our ‘pre-loved’ clothes where we can share and share alike; some allow you to simply swap your items, while others offer the space to sell. The very idea of selling all my unwanted clothes and getting back even a small percentage of what I spent on them leaves me nothing short of giddy.

 But wait, shortly after logging onto one of said websites I am surrounded by an entire nations cast-offs, not sure where to look first. Good god…this is just another massive, completely mismatched shop. And I LOVE it. The next few hours are spent sifting through hundreds of pictures; tops, dresses, jewellery, jackets….I’m like a kid in a sweetie shop.

Before long I’ve completely forgotten about the massive pile of clothes next to me waiting to be sent off to new owners and have squandered more money than I care to admit (it rhymes with nixty mounds) on complete strangers’ rejects. I worry about how my clothes will feel about the new arrivals, sitting pretty in the wardrobe so soon after so many of them were discarded. The worry turns into guilt, the guilt turns into sympathy, the sympathy takes over (yes, this is the extensive emotional process we must go through during a wardrobe clear out) and I succumb to the clothes…hanging each and every piece back up on the rail. Where it belongs. I know this time next week some new cigarette pants or printed blouses will have snuck their way in and within a month I’ll have to entertain the idea of  a clear out again, purely due to the issue of storage space. For now though, I appreciate every single item for what it is; mine.

You’ll have to excuse me….I’m off to cuddle my wardrobe.

Up All Night.

CLOTHES, CLOTHES AND MORE CLOTHES.

That's been my life lately. I've been immersing myself in all things New York Fashion Week, and I've loved it. What originally started as a mission to get a grip on the key trends for A/W, has turned into a big learning curve for me in terms of designers, events and fashion week veterans. LFW has already kicked off, and I'm ready to get stuck in all over again! Aside from eyeing up the street style, I've been hooked on the styling of the models. Without fail, every one of them perfectly put together - not a hair out of place, not a pose out of sync - until I spied this little livewire from the Rochas show...

They say a picture paints a thousand words. I couldn't possibly guess em all, but I would bet this photo includes the words tequila, dancing and hangover. After finding it online, I went looking for the rest of the collection - hoping to find some party girl runway show with models gettin' on down to Macklemore tunes - but the rest of the girls were decidedly more put together. Had I been there, I probably would have stormed the catwalk, offered this poor lass a cuddle, a cup of tea, and invited her on my next night out. Models seem like such graceful creatures - it had never occurred to me that they could be just as disgraceful as us after a few too many gins.

If there's one trend from fashion week that I hope will be surfacing in the new season - it's this 'haven't-been-home-yet-and-need-a-dominos ' look... after perfecting it for years, I knew the fashion folks would eventually catch on. Lets call it 'Gin Chic', yes?

Just a side note - Marsel Rochas abandoned his career in law to open his first maison du couture just so that he could afford to dress his wife in style. 

*Sigh*

They sure don't make em like Rochas anymore...

Sneaking in to Fashion Week.

Let me tell you a little something about fashion, folks. Fashion is hard. I say that like I’ve faced and conquered it… I have not. I know practically nothing about Fashion Week, but it’s still the most enticing event of the year for me. Whether it’s New York or London, S/S or A/W, I switch from a “well hey! It’s from three seasons ago, but it’s only £4 in the sale so I’m gonna buy it anyway” girl to the “Straight to the ‘New in’ section dahling, no exceptions” fashion follower, almost overnight. It’s quite a sight to behold, let me tell you. And I’m pretty sure my wardrobe has noticed a pattern – my clothes just seem to look sadder whenever Fashion Week comes around.

I take my hat off to the stylish aficionados pounding the pavement all week in their stiletto heels, dicing with death on the streets of New York (newsflash: even Victoria Beckham wears flats now – kick off them heels ladies!) in a bid to hurry themselves along to the next show. I’m pretty sure I’d be the odd ball walking around barefoot, hoping it’d pass off as kitsch and desperately endearing to forego shoes altogether… but would probably ending up looking like some sort of Diana Vickers wannabe. There are literally hundreds of shows to see and digest in such a short space of time. With the music, the models, the set and understanding the overall look of the collection – how much can we really capture?

Sounds pretty stressful, if you ask me. That’s why I’m glad I’m sitting here in the office, spending my lunch hour clicking through endless photos of shows, street style, features and interviews. Glad/bitter – potato potato. But yeah, secretly glad! Can any of those pesky New York show-goers say that they’re catching up on the latest fashion trends while sprawled out on the couch in joggers and a jumper eating nutella out of the jar with a spoon? I thought not. While the likes of me would probably be shunned from the venue, close to the venue that’s close to any of the NYFW shows – I’ve got a seat to every single collection and there’s nothing they can do about it.

Oh contraire, Anna banana. I’m right there next to ya. In fact – I’m almost on your bloomin’ lap! We’re living vicariously through these bloggers and reporters, enjoying an access all areas that we’ve never had before. Between Who What Wear, ManRepeller, The New York Times, Elle, Never Underdressed and numerous Instagram accounts, I can access exclusive content at any time of the day!

 Okay – my work ethic has decreased by about 82% and I’m much more conscious about my thighs – but I now know that after weeks of deliberation, it’s still safe to buy trainers. Because Marc by Marc Jacobs said so.

Are you getting a crash course in Fashion Week?

Seasons Change

Let’s talk Fashion week… and why I have no business being anywhere near it.

I’ve decided to do a week of posts that are all Fashion Week related.  The collections, the trends, the buzz, and the parties – it’s all up for my warped interpretation over the next few days. Please be aware before reading any further, that they will contain no credible fashion advice whatsoever, nor do I claim to have any idea what I'm talking about at any particular point of any post. Capeesh? Alright then!

Firstly, I want to talk seasons. I tend to have a bit of an identity crisis when it comes to dressing for them. We’ve got Spring/Summer and Autumn/Winter… easy, right? Led by the many blogs/magazines/picture agencies that I frequent on a daily basis, you'd think I’d have it all (Most? Some? A Little?) sussed out – but I don’t.

Living in Scotland, we need to use the term ‘summer’ loosely anyway, but there's enough of a shift in temperature for people to feel like they can walk around town in beach wear, if the season calls for it. I'm not sure if I favour A/W for all its layers and richer fabrics, or because I dig it’s darker, more sultry colours – but I'm always more excited about seeing what’s on offer later in the year. A little too excited, perhaps. Winter comes and goes and suddenly spring is upon us - but all I can think about is where I'm going to find my next favourite jumper in this vast sea of pastels and summer vests. This is nothing to do with body confidence, or the need to drown myself in layers, no, no! Because I guarantee, come the brisk chill of winter, I'll be putting my feelers out for everything from maxi skirts to pretty lace tops to ice cream cones (that’s not so much a summer thing, more of a I love ice cream thing…).

My point being, I'm pretty backwards when it comes to dressing for the season. I might start a new craze… Spring/Autumn, Summer/Winter.

Thoughts from the Frow?

Source: cinemagraphs.com/nyfw

Nailed it.

Where is home?

You can't see it - but I've got my serious face on today.

I think my obsession with the Cloon began in his ER days - that's right, before McDreamy we had Dr Doug. 

What up, doc?

That's not why we're here - well, probably not why you're here. The reason I've invited him along to the blog today is a specific quote from an interview he did recently, that inspired me to write on this specific subject. 

"Home is where my friends and family are. I spend 8 months a year in a one bedroom hotel room in a city I probably wouldn't vacation in. But no city... no space... fails to be a home if your family or friends can find the time to visit. I get desperately, desperately homesick if I can't find a way to be near the people that bring joy wherever they go. Home is humour, and love, and responsibility - and I get homesick when the people who know that best, and I, can't find time to be together."

George, you inspirational minx. 

Having lived away from home while at university, gone travelling through Europe and catching a flight to Australia last year - I'm not one to get too attached to places. I've noticed since moving for a new job that 'home' to me is not just the place that I'm in, it's the people who make it and the memories you share with them (that was beautiful - someone get Hallmark on the phone) that can make you feel so far away. Granted, George's 'one bedroom hotel room' is probably the size of my entire flat - but I see where the fella is coming from. 

I'm glad that at 23yrs old, I've been able to move around as much as I have, but I'm not finished yet. I hope someday to live in some of the biggest cities in the world - for love, money, work or to maybe the biggest mistake of my life. Who cares - it's all experience, right? Leaving home gives you a totally different perspective of what home really is. A perspective that proves helpful whenever you feel overwhelmed and are left wondering if you should just pack it all in and go back to where you came from. Home is where I am now. Home is where my friends and family come to visit me. Home is where I cram all of my clothes into the wardrobes that are never, ever big enough.

Where is home to you?

Throwing Noodles.

Asos shopping sits shamelessly high on my priority list. Whether it’s while I’m in work (ooh, naughty) or a lazy browse on a Sunday – I never stray too far. I don’t think there’s ever a visit that doesn’t end with adding to my ever expanding ‘Save for later’ list (whoever created that wonderful feature, by the way, deserves a promotion and a punch in the face, in equal measures). On my recent trip to Fash-land, I found myself having a peek at the sale shoes, and I just cannot hold my tongue.

Disclaimer: I’m fully aware that I am no fashionista. I’m also aware that my taste in shoes is pretty limited (seriously, what the hell did I wear on my feet before ankle boots came around?). I am in no way dissing the shoe tastes of others, or claiming that I know best. I just wanna talk shoes, yo.

First of all I’ll show you just how boring I am when it comes to shoes. Here are a few of my winners from the Shoe sale:

Dull, right? I told you.

While I do believe you can get away with the somewhat whackier shoes with the right balance of confidence and style, these guys absolutely baffled me. So without further ado, I give you the losers:

Where to start?! I’m just going to chuck one of my noodles at my computer screen and whichever one it lands on will kick us off… okay – the snakeskin leather boot. When I look at this shoe, it makes me think of Ross’ leather pants in Friends. And I feel like Chandler – desperate for someone else to react to the hideousness of it all. Anyone? Just me? What, pray tell, would these even be worn with? A horse and saddle, is all I came up with.

Okay – noodle number two (Don’t worry, I’m peelin’ em off the screen and eating them – no food goes to waste here!), the translucent platform. I’ll resist the temptation to make the obvious stripper reference here – although that alone should be reason not to buy them. What I love about these, is the practicality of the see-through heel. For those of us who have manoeuvring issues when we walk, the notorious heel blind spot has been taken care of! You now have full visibility down in that tiny irrelevant space by the ground – go conquer the world, stripper!

Our final noodle has landed on the bejewelled court. There’s embellishment, then too much embellishment, then these shoes. Not only would I be constantly stressed about losing a gem everytime I wore them, thus deeming the shoes unwearable, I would feel like I’d have to ditch my jewellery and cut my own eyelashes off for fear of over accessorising. Surprisingly, since spotting these beauties last night, they are now out of stock. It’s taking everything in my being not to obsess over who bought these shoes last night. What were they doing? What was their state of mind? Where do they plan on wearing them?

 Okay - my noodles are finished and these shoes are upsetting me.

Comment below if you have any of these shoes/want prices and links/hate them as much as I do/made the shoes and want an apology...

Ciao!