Today I took my new god daughter out on our first outing together. Keen to be an excellent all round role model, I considered carefully the many cultural activities that we could enjoy together so that I can try and enrich her life in some small way. But, if I'm honest, it's best that she understands the real me more than any landmark, church or museum. So, I stuck to the culture that I know best and took her clothes shopping. There's no reason why she shouldn't be introduced to the merits of bargain hunting at an early age is there? It will only serve her well in future I thought.
So, we meandered through the cobbled streets of Windsor with a pair of shoes to buy and a voucher to spend (New Look, if you're wondering). To my despair, however, she slept through the entire experience. Off in the land of nod without a care in the world for retail and its infectious personna. She wasn't concerned at all about my New Look bargains (three in all) or my new Office sandals. She didn't even wake up to help me choose a mascara. Perhaps she's not going to be that into shopping...ummm, interesting. Or perhaps at under five months old, it really is too young. That's much more likley.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Sunday, 6 June 2010
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
The death of yellow independence
It will be a sad day on Friday when my favourite accessory and I part ways. It's been a three year partnership that has endured some stormy weather and the odd/frequent bump and scrape. Yes, the yellow mini has, sadly, seen its finest day. It's been hard to accept, I can say so now openly. I've been thinking for some time that the time has come but it's taken a while to hit home. The failed MOT was the nail in the coffin and a shiny new black car is winging its way to me come Friday.
It's become part of my style identity so I'm sure a tear will be shed as the little daffodil finds itself a new home and I have to face the stark reality that is sharing a 'grown-up' car with a boy. I'm sure I'll manage though...after all black is the new yellow.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
It's become part of my style identity so I'm sure a tear will be shed as the little daffodil finds itself a new home and I have to face the stark reality that is sharing a 'grown-up' car with a boy. I'm sure I'll manage though...after all black is the new yellow.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
When house trumped clothes...and I had to grow up
For the past twelve years my boyfriend (now husband) hasn't had to be that inventive when it comes to presents. I'm a Topshop girl through and through you see. Give me a voucher (or plastic card now times are a changing) and I'm happy. Simple pleasures and all that. Each May I look forward to a summer wardrobe spree, safe in the knowledge that my voucher is a 'birthday-must have'. But, gasp, 2010 marks a catastrophic change in this perfect order of birthday present affairs.
The husband's a grown up you see. He wants me to buy him a BBQ for his birthday, he informed me last week. Aghast, I knew that unless I wanted to be tarnished as a selfish being for eternity, it was only right to 'donate' my 2010 birthday gift to the house. Lucky house. So, Topshop vouchers have been banished and a piece of home wear will take their place. Not a swap that immediately filled me with a warm fuzzy feeling...
But, not easily disheartened, I'm pleased to announce that a mirror I've had my eye on for some time is now winging its way to me, disguised as a birthday present.
I've grown up. I feel good. I do. Honestly.
But, if those Topshop vouchers lose their way again come Christmas, I may not be so supportive of this adulthood business.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
The husband's a grown up you see. He wants me to buy him a BBQ for his birthday, he informed me last week. Aghast, I knew that unless I wanted to be tarnished as a selfish being for eternity, it was only right to 'donate' my 2010 birthday gift to the house. Lucky house. So, Topshop vouchers have been banished and a piece of home wear will take their place. Not a swap that immediately filled me with a warm fuzzy feeling...
But, not easily disheartened, I'm pleased to announce that a mirror I've had my eye on for some time is now winging its way to me, disguised as a birthday present.
I've grown up. I feel good. I do. Honestly.
But, if those Topshop vouchers lose their way again come Christmas, I may not be so supportive of this adulthood business.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Monday, 22 March 2010
When the colour of shoes doesn't matter...honestly
I'm vain. I am. I try not to be but I can't help it. I think about my clothes, I worry about my hair and I'm sad if I clash. Until this weekend I'd thought that there was no occasion when one's shoe colour was totally inconsequential. As I helped out at a friend's running shoes shop I began to realise that, when it comes to trainers that are fit for purpose, there's nothing more annoying than somebody who wants a pink pair!
Now, as previously mentioned, I'm all about the matching outfit but my past runner-persona took offense when a would-be sauntered in, feigning interest in the right type of shoe, only to be swayed speedily by a splash of colour that didn't suit the look! Now come on, running's not about fashion, it merely facilitates a better overall look.
Fear not, my commitment to colour co-ordination was merely on sabbatical - a frightening and unsettling two days I can assure you.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Now, as previously mentioned, I'm all about the matching outfit but my past runner-persona took offense when a would-be sauntered in, feigning interest in the right type of shoe, only to be swayed speedily by a splash of colour that didn't suit the look! Now come on, running's not about fashion, it merely facilitates a better overall look.
Fear not, my commitment to colour co-ordination was merely on sabbatical - a frightening and unsettling two days I can assure you.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Viva Las Vegas
After a busy 48 hours in Las Vegas, you'd think that I'd be able to conjur up much commenatary about the outfits I saw ( or lack there of) and the beautiful people out and about in a city that, very literally, never sleeps. I have many of those tales but it's my plane outfits that spring to mind as most newsworthy (if you can label it that) and concerning. To cut to the chase - leggings.
Yes, leggings are so comfy, they've become too comfy. Since becoming a staple of the female wardrobe over the past few years, I've finally realised / had to admit that they're making us ladies a bit lazy when it comes to style. No longer do we need to squeeze into our skinny jeans with relentless determination or stop eating cakes incase we have to buy a new pair. We've got the fall back of the stretchy, one size fits all leggings and we need to be careful. It won't be long before tailored trousers, fitted jeans and hotpants lose their appeal entirely and we become a nation of legging-wearing slobs. I'd be top of the guilty list.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Yes, leggings are so comfy, they've become too comfy. Since becoming a staple of the female wardrobe over the past few years, I've finally realised / had to admit that they're making us ladies a bit lazy when it comes to style. No longer do we need to squeeze into our skinny jeans with relentless determination or stop eating cakes incase we have to buy a new pair. We've got the fall back of the stretchy, one size fits all leggings and we need to be careful. It won't be long before tailored trousers, fitted jeans and hotpants lose their appeal entirely and we become a nation of legging-wearing slobs. I'd be top of the guilty list.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Sunday, 21 February 2010
Getting My Shopping Fix
I get a bit twitchy when a weekend's activities don't include some form of shopping. It doesn't happen often but, sadly, it can. Until this weekend I'd considered window shopping to be the least satisfying form but was proven wrong when wandering the lovely streets of Bath with somebody who had cash to spend as I save for an excessive amount of holidaying in 2010.
When that person happens to be male, you're also faced with boys clothes shops and, top of the boring tree, Millets. Honestly, I nearly nodded off in there. I get that it's purpose-driven clothing but come on, a little retail creativity wouldn't go a miss.
Anyway, with said shopping sadness well a truly behind me I can now focus my addictive attentions on London Fashion Weekend. I'm off to Somerset House on Thursday for some proper retail therapy. I may well take a break from holiday saving to satisfy any unavoidable temptations. What can a girl do?
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
When that person happens to be male, you're also faced with boys clothes shops and, top of the boring tree, Millets. Honestly, I nearly nodded off in there. I get that it's purpose-driven clothing but come on, a little retail creativity wouldn't go a miss.
Anyway, with said shopping sadness well a truly behind me I can now focus my addictive attentions on London Fashion Weekend. I'm off to Somerset House on Thursday for some proper retail therapy. I may well take a break from holiday saving to satisfy any unavoidable temptations. What can a girl do?
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Packing light. Very light...
I've written once before about my new calling as a biker chick. Baby steps thus far have seen me travel five miles for a Costa coffee on one round trip and then 20 miles for a ludicrously expensive hot chocolate on the second. My third expedition is due next weekend but it's somewhat longer than its predecessors. I'm off to Bath for the weekend and top of the worry-agenda is how on earth can two people pack adequate, non-offensive outfits into one measly rucksack. Nightmare!!
Adjectives to describe my normal packing etiquette would not include 'light'. In fact they are more likley to include synonyms of OTT, 'just in case' and ridiculous. So, what can I do? View it as a style challenge to overcome with pride is my only option besides catching the train. I'm going to go for leggings and a dress that folds very, very small. It's not helpful that, as previously mentioned in my blog, I'm six foot tall. Surely this would be an easier task for somebody more vertically challenged. Less material and all that.
Anyway, I'll be sure to update on my styleless weekend away with nothing but a rucksack that usually would house my make-up!!
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Adjectives to describe my normal packing etiquette would not include 'light'. In fact they are more likley to include synonyms of OTT, 'just in case' and ridiculous. So, what can I do? View it as a style challenge to overcome with pride is my only option besides catching the train. I'm going to go for leggings and a dress that folds very, very small. It's not helpful that, as previously mentioned in my blog, I'm six foot tall. Surely this would be an easier task for somebody more vertically challenged. Less material and all that.
Anyway, I'll be sure to update on my styleless weekend away with nothing but a rucksack that usually would house my make-up!!
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Monday, 8 February 2010
Monkey on My Back
Having a 'monkey on your back' is said to describe an addiction of sorts. Perhaps even a drug addiction. Well, when I use it to describe the pyjamas which I can't live without, the words take on both a metaphorical and quite literal meaning.
You see, my fluffy pink PJs have brown monkeys all over them and, frankly, they do not represent the most stylish of outfit. In fact, they represent the antithesis of style. But, I can't live without them, I really can't. I'm addicted you see.
No matter how many other pairs I eye-up admiringly in La Senza, nor how many I purchase, or have purchased for me, I can't shake the cosy, comforting familiarity that comes when I slide into my soft, worn, bobbled bedtime outfit. Bliss.
I've taken some slack for them too. They are regularly ridiculed and I fear that one day they’ll 'go missing' in some act of tomfoolery. That will be a sad day indeed. They've moved house with me...four times. They have seen many a hangover, slumber party and romantic liaison (well, I mean that in the loosest sense, seeing as they are actually beginning to act as a husband deterrent).
For somebody who takes clothes quite seriously, I am myself amazed by my choice of nightwear but, I will not apologise for them. In a world where glamour doesn’t always mean comfort, who needs lace negligees and skimpy slips? Not I! This monkey on the back is here to stay.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
You see, my fluffy pink PJs have brown monkeys all over them and, frankly, they do not represent the most stylish of outfit. In fact, they represent the antithesis of style. But, I can't live without them, I really can't. I'm addicted you see.
No matter how many other pairs I eye-up admiringly in La Senza, nor how many I purchase, or have purchased for me, I can't shake the cosy, comforting familiarity that comes when I slide into my soft, worn, bobbled bedtime outfit. Bliss.
I've taken some slack for them too. They are regularly ridiculed and I fear that one day they’ll 'go missing' in some act of tomfoolery. That will be a sad day indeed. They've moved house with me...four times. They have seen many a hangover, slumber party and romantic liaison (well, I mean that in the loosest sense, seeing as they are actually beginning to act as a husband deterrent).
For somebody who takes clothes quite seriously, I am myself amazed by my choice of nightwear but, I will not apologise for them. In a world where glamour doesn’t always mean comfort, who needs lace negligees and skimpy slips? Not I! This monkey on the back is here to stay.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Sunday, 31 January 2010
Blonde Ambition
I'm sorry. I am. To all you brunettes out there, I'm slowly, but surely moving over to the dark side...or should that be bright side.
A couple of light pieces in August has led to a progressively blonder barnet. Opinions are divided and, may I add, strong. My mum, not one to mince her words, has finally admitted that she 'hated me with dark hair'. Thanks Mum! My husband prefers the brunette look but alas, I've fallen to temptation and there's no doubt about it. It's addictive.
There are so many questions. Where's it all going to stop? How dry is my hair going to get and who in the hell's going to stop me before it's all too late and my silky brunette locks are gone forever. Well, not forever, but we've all experienced the agony of growing out roots. Only Kate Moss can make that carnage look stylish. I will just look gross.
Sitting in the hairdressers for three hours is nothing short of complete pleasure for me. Magazines galore, cups of tea on tap and friendly, funny chat. Perfect. So, with my love of hair salons apparent, it's no surprise that I end up getting excited with my changing look and asking for more each time.
Maybe 2010 is my blonde year and next year I'll go back to black....but first I've got to check out if blondes really do have more fun. I’ll let you know.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
A couple of light pieces in August has led to a progressively blonder barnet. Opinions are divided and, may I add, strong. My mum, not one to mince her words, has finally admitted that she 'hated me with dark hair'. Thanks Mum! My husband prefers the brunette look but alas, I've fallen to temptation and there's no doubt about it. It's addictive.
There are so many questions. Where's it all going to stop? How dry is my hair going to get and who in the hell's going to stop me before it's all too late and my silky brunette locks are gone forever. Well, not forever, but we've all experienced the agony of growing out roots. Only Kate Moss can make that carnage look stylish. I will just look gross.
Sitting in the hairdressers for three hours is nothing short of complete pleasure for me. Magazines galore, cups of tea on tap and friendly, funny chat. Perfect. So, with my love of hair salons apparent, it's no surprise that I end up getting excited with my changing look and asking for more each time.
Maybe 2010 is my blonde year and next year I'll go back to black....but first I've got to check out if blondes really do have more fun. I’ll let you know.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Sunday, 24 January 2010
Biker Chick (gulp!)
Now that I've finally managed to select the correct leather jacket - appropriately practical yet adequately stylish, I needed to put my 'helmet hair' fear aside and get on a moving motorbike.
Today I officially became a biker chick. True, I never thought I'd find myself perched on a bike, exposed to the elements without a safety screen or metal car shell to protect me but...I liked it.
There wasn't much scope for vanity when it came to choosing my clothes. Funny that. When it comes to life or death, one normally goes with the sensible option. So, black jeans, a woolly jumper and the biker gear were the (arguably) boring extent of it.
But let's not forget the truly stylish element of this scene. Without question, whizzing around the beautiful English countryside, with the crisp wind against my skin and noticing details of the journey that I never would in a car, was the style twist to my journey. Who knew trees were so beautiful? Well I guess I did, but my appreciation for a journey's scenery was heightened ten fold during my hour-long road trip.
Now, to the helmet hair. It was, as I'd feared, horrendous beyond compare. Dull, flat, lifeless. Cheryl Cole would've had L'Oreal advert fodder for a year if she'd caught a glimpse of me as I snuck into a coffee shop mid-journey for an excruciatingly over-priced hot beverage with my driver.
I'll have to give the hair planning a great deal more thought before my biking adventure to Paris for Valentines Day. It certainly wouldn't do to be seen in the world's fashion capital looking like I did today. I might not even get through passport control...
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Welsh Wardrobes
Packing for my weekend trip to West Wales on Thursday , I had more than what outfits to pick on my mind. I've got a secret you see. I can't go a week without clothes shopping and I was beginning to worry about where exactly I would attend to said addiction in the absolutely beautiful, yet alarmingly shopless (virtually) Llanarth and Newquay.
My husband once told me that if I bought one more candle, cushion or photo frame he'd...well he didn't know exactly what he'd do but I could tell it wouldn't be to compliment me for my commitment to the soft furnishing industry.
So, if home wear purchasing is paused, what for my wardrobe addictions in rural Wales?
Unfazed by the lack of high street names, I pride myself on my ability to hunt out a stylish bargain in the most unlikely of stores - Newquay's Second Gear store to be precise. Last summer I picked up a John Rocha dress for twelve small pounds and this time, I nabbed a beautiful, fitted M&S Autograph black coat. A steal at £40.
Add this to a £2 heart shaped, faux-crystal broach from Aberystwyth and I'm high on life. My mood visibly picked and a euphoria oozed happily through my shopaholic veins.
An amazing meal at Aberaeron's Harbour Master topped off a wonderfully Welsh weekend for me...safe in the knowledge that my shopping fix would remain dormant until next weekend. http://www.harbour-master.com/
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Sunday, 10 January 2010
sNOw Style
You can't turn on the TV or radio without hearing about the adverse weather! People are quite simply, mad for it. Everybody knows better than Michael Fish himself. Weather updates and incessant speculation are commonplace in offices across the country.
But, let's put aside the travel chaos for one moment (I beg) and consider the devastating impact said weather conditions have had on my fashion sense. The desperate situation reached a crescendo on a quick dash to the supermarket this week. I'd had leather boots on for work but, to my despair, they'd not provided the safest soles so I needed a quick change on route.
Making Bambi appear elegant, I slid into Sainsbury's, catching a quick glimpse of my reflection in the glass doors. A black dress, black tights, pink ankle socks and orange gym trainers. Good God, how had this happened?!
The snow does crazy things you see. The basic human need to be safe and warm can take over, even for the most fashion conscious among us. The consequences are somewhat horrific. Snow is glamorous on screen, beautiful in pictures and quite magical in our imagination but when it comes to my personal style, it's been on a snow break for a week....
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
But, let's put aside the travel chaos for one moment (I beg) and consider the devastating impact said weather conditions have had on my fashion sense. The desperate situation reached a crescendo on a quick dash to the supermarket this week. I'd had leather boots on for work but, to my despair, they'd not provided the safest soles so I needed a quick change on route.
Making Bambi appear elegant, I slid into Sainsbury's, catching a quick glimpse of my reflection in the glass doors. A black dress, black tights, pink ankle socks and orange gym trainers. Good God, how had this happened?!
The snow does crazy things you see. The basic human need to be safe and warm can take over, even for the most fashion conscious among us. The consequences are somewhat horrific. Snow is glamorous on screen, beautiful in pictures and quite magical in our imagination but when it comes to my personal style, it's been on a snow break for a week....
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
Saturday, 2 January 2010
The Long and the Short of It
It's every girls dream right? To be six foot tall with long legs, towering above the envious (and short) crowd. Yes, that's right, I've heard it a hundred times before. Wait; hold that, I've heard it at least a thousand times before. It can take any number of linguistic twists, but the word tall and a synonym for nice are usually there. Well, I've got a secret to share. I hate it, I really do.
On route to a meeting in London a few weeks back, I was dashing up Oxford Street searching for the right exit when an alarmingly tall gentleman stopped me. 'Gosh it's nice to see a woman of such length', he exclaimed, before bothering me for several more metres, asking if I did the high jump and where exactly I came from. It would not be ok to do that to somebody who was overweight or shorter than average, of that I’m sure!
I've been here before. If I'd allowed it, the next question would have come from the stockpile of Atrocious, Misguided Questions and Compliments for Tall People. 'Did your mother put you in a grow bag?' 'Have you always been tall?' or, let's crack out the originality, 'How tall are you exactly?'. No, sort of and six foot (six foot one if I'm honest but I wouldn't dare).
Welcome to the world of ankle flappers, ugly flat shoes and doing a lunge when somebody takes a group photo and you look like a BFG bookend. Let's start with the ankle flappers.....
Buying a pair of trousers is epic. Knowing you want to avoid Long Tall Sally at all costs (I’ve never been there because that would be admitting defeat), you have to shop carefully. Having trousers skirting your shin, unless that is overtly the intended style, is obscene no less.
With trouser bottoms dancing at the top of your shoes, you’re never going to look good. You’re always going to be a misfit. I’ve learned that hard way. When girls were first allowed to wear trousers to school (our own Suffragete moment), I got no further than the bus stop before I was ridiculed for my short slacks and pop socks. I was desperate to go home but I had to keep face. I survived the day but never again did I wear trousers despite my previous five year war for equality. Who wants equality when you look like a tool?
Topshop Tall is usually a safe bet but I literally need to try on seven or eight pairs to find something vaguely flattering.
Next for the flat shoes. Ignore what the magazines say. Flat shoes look rubbish with a posh frock so then you’re faced with a conundrum - how to find a medium heel that’s not committing any serious crime to your overall look. It’s tough I tell you. I make compromises on almost every pair of shoes I buy. It’s an infringement on my womanly rights I’m sure…to not have one pair that I truly adore! I look longingly into delicious shoes stores and feel really hard done buy. I’ve been dealt a duff hand.
And finally to the photo lunge. It’s appalling. When you’re at least 6 inches taller than most of your girlfriends, a photo is not a flattering opportunity. I know, deep down, that I’d never make it into a girl band (and not just because I can’t sing a note in tune). I’d be laughed off the stage.
I sense that this tall theme is going to be a blog regular so, rest assured, I’ll keep you posted.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
On route to a meeting in London a few weeks back, I was dashing up Oxford Street searching for the right exit when an alarmingly tall gentleman stopped me. 'Gosh it's nice to see a woman of such length', he exclaimed, before bothering me for several more metres, asking if I did the high jump and where exactly I came from. It would not be ok to do that to somebody who was overweight or shorter than average, of that I’m sure!
I've been here before. If I'd allowed it, the next question would have come from the stockpile of Atrocious, Misguided Questions and Compliments for Tall People. 'Did your mother put you in a grow bag?' 'Have you always been tall?' or, let's crack out the originality, 'How tall are you exactly?'. No, sort of and six foot (six foot one if I'm honest but I wouldn't dare).
Welcome to the world of ankle flappers, ugly flat shoes and doing a lunge when somebody takes a group photo and you look like a BFG bookend. Let's start with the ankle flappers.....
Buying a pair of trousers is epic. Knowing you want to avoid Long Tall Sally at all costs (I’ve never been there because that would be admitting defeat), you have to shop carefully. Having trousers skirting your shin, unless that is overtly the intended style, is obscene no less.
With trouser bottoms dancing at the top of your shoes, you’re never going to look good. You’re always going to be a misfit. I’ve learned that hard way. When girls were first allowed to wear trousers to school (our own Suffragete moment), I got no further than the bus stop before I was ridiculed for my short slacks and pop socks. I was desperate to go home but I had to keep face. I survived the day but never again did I wear trousers despite my previous five year war for equality. Who wants equality when you look like a tool?
Topshop Tall is usually a safe bet but I literally need to try on seven or eight pairs to find something vaguely flattering.
Next for the flat shoes. Ignore what the magazines say. Flat shoes look rubbish with a posh frock so then you’re faced with a conundrum - how to find a medium heel that’s not committing any serious crime to your overall look. It’s tough I tell you. I make compromises on almost every pair of shoes I buy. It’s an infringement on my womanly rights I’m sure…to not have one pair that I truly adore! I look longingly into delicious shoes stores and feel really hard done buy. I’ve been dealt a duff hand.
And finally to the photo lunge. It’s appalling. When you’re at least 6 inches taller than most of your girlfriends, a photo is not a flattering opportunity. I know, deep down, that I’d never make it into a girl band (and not just because I can’t sing a note in tune). I’d be laughed off the stage.
I sense that this tall theme is going to be a blog regular so, rest assured, I’ll keep you posted.
Style Twist - not even the most stylish person I know x
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