Lonely Robot in a Wasteland resting in a lonely Harbour

Little makes me happier faster than a positive upbeat song. And that's the case with I Blame Coco's latest tune (see below). The chorus lifts me, despite it being a bit sad. I am a lonely robot.
I am seriously ready to escape and do something different, but doing so with very few close friends nearby, especially when escaping into the most cutthroat industry in the world, with the cynicism I have? THIS IS SPARTA.
This is also, apparently, not appropriate summerwear (as I was told at a small leaving do I went to tonight).
Why yes, I am wearing indigo jeans and leather biker boots (and three layers) in June. What of it? It's called a look? It's called not thinking a minidress that shows off (streaky bronzed) legs is work-appropriate? And it's called....oh just stuff off.
Ah well. It's hard to be sad when it's nearly the end of term (though it's bloody stressful trying to tidy away) and soon it will be high summer and I will be working where I can wear what I want. Ie. what I wear already. And get my pale legs out and not feel like some sort of leper. Seriously, I am surrounded by tanned people. I need to escape to a place with alternatives.
This top is a perfect one for me, as it's light enough for summer but sultry and dark enough for, well, me. Up close, you can see the tree detailing. I love trees.
I also love my new little ring that looks like an opal but is actually glass. I love my macro function on my camera that allows good pictures. See, there's plenty of good stuff.

The more I see them, the more I want them...

I just want them. How can I find them? I must go on a quest for them. There are my preciousssssss.........

Catching up with an old friend

Having spent all this time bopping around the internet looking at lovely designer-y stuff, I felt it was high time to check back in with one of my favourite designers, William Tempest. When on an interview last year for a research job at a lifestyle website, the interviewer asked who my favourite new designer was and my mind when blank. I said Peter Pilotto. Fail. I don't like Peter Pilotto.
I do, however, love the Tempest. Ever since Grazia ran a feature on him last year I've been smitten ever since. His first collection was the kind of spark of genius that prompts prizes in other fields (like first novels, for example).
With the premise of this amazing first collection fresh in my mind, I eagerly anticipated the web page to load showing his latest collection. But unlike the first, which was breakout, bold and beautiful, this one is neater, cleaner and safer. It's more of a grower. I miss the grandiose appeal of his first breakout collection, but this is still beautiful and bold, with the combination of dreamy light green and inky, oily black fabrics.
(Images from WilliamTempest.com)

Coco's back

I just love her. She's got such a wolfish gaze, enviable legs and her dad's voice. All good.
Lonely robot.....



Du du du du du. DA, du du du du-du. Does anyone remember that song by Darude? One of the great summer dance tracks. I went through a phase.
My current (well, day-long) phase is my allegiance to grey, that wonderful shade previously associated with Granddad's underpants, but thanks to our friend Alex(ander) Wang made a more upmarket option.
(Photos from Style.com) As seen recently on Robyn in the video for 'Dancing On My Own'.
(I do sound like a one-trick pony, but I'm not making it my mission to try every style. I'll try the ones I
think will suit my look and will suit me. And I like grey.)
There. Perfect. I like stuff with hoods, stuff with pockets, and short-sleeved cardigans and jackets; they're good for breaking up longline, simple outfits. This would probably have worked even better with my Topshop sporty wedges, or without the jeans. Perfect with a very pale face and dark lips and nails.
Or perhaps with some jewellery from Fashionology. My latest blogger find If You Seek Style just ordered a dead-ringer for the Low Luv crucifix pendant from there for 25 euros. Plus they have some great Pamela Love-a-likes.

Come back Christopher Kane, all is forgiven

You may be aware of my dislike of Christopher Kane. He's a great designer, but he's just too overexposed. I got annoyed. (I secretly really wanted one of his gorilla t-shirts.)
Then I saw his Resort collection.
It's almost better than his last one (with the clouds and nuclear explosion prints? Hal has something from that collection and she still hasn't worn it.) Oh I want it. I want it all. Except for the shoes. No-one needs fluffy shoes. Except cats. With bald feet.
(Photos from Grazia.)


The Birds

The Best Day Off School Ever

I have gotten a little (ok, a lot) lazy with my posts the last few days - combination of being quite busy, having a head all over the place (jobs, living, relationships, friendships, you name it) and there not being that much inspiration around at the moment. I've been reading all the magazines, trawling the websites...summer fashion makes for some very dull mid-range mag spreads. Girls in their underwear - check. Girls in bikinis and sarongs - check. Some of us aren't going away this summer. So I'll have to get my inspiration from conventional sources.
On Sunday, hereby declared 'the day where I put on comfy, messy clothes and thus don't do outfit posts', I had an epic wardrobe tidy. Now everything is back on hangers, and there's a bag or two ready for the charity shops.
As a result, I put on the perfect tidying accompaniment (mindless teen dramas - in this case The OC) and re-discovered one of the screen's many beautiful teenagers. Call her what you want now, but the younger Mischa Barton was a beauty.

Back when she had sunkissed surfer hair, an enviable (ok really thin) figure, and the face of an angel, she was the ultimate girl next door. Now she's fallen foul of, well, the world, and it's a sad thing.

But that seems to be the way. The beautiful teenagers have their time, and then they drop off the map. Case in point, Molly Ringwald.

Never quite as beautiful as Mischa, but with a far more successful teen run, dear little Molly was the 80s. Like Mischa's on-screen alter-ego, Molly's were all bratty, irritating and pouty, but she made her name doing just that.
But by far the most beautiful teen actress I've ever seen has to be Mia Sara. Ferris Bueller's Day Off is doing the rounds on Film4, and as a result I am treated to Mia's lovely face on regular occasions.
Someone's clearly just shown Matthew Broderick his future.
There's just something about the purity, childlike sweetness yet raw sensuality of Mia's beauty (which I think led to her casting as the Eve-type role of Lily in Legend - yes, I love everything about that film) that makes her stand out miles from anyone I've seen today. Strangely, the closest resemblance I can think of is the young Kate Moss, but with a more exotic quality. And those luscious, strike-envy-into-the-heart-of-Blair-Waldorf brunette locks.
AAAAAAARGH! Scary alien-loving man! RUUUUUUUUN!
Much better.
Even better. Jennifer Grey takes off her dancing shoes and her cute little girl act to play Ferris' surly sister Jeanie. I almost prefer in this to her iconic turn in Dirty Dancing; she pouts, snears and growls her way through the first hour and a half before a youthful Charlie Sheen in full John Bender mode turns her into the simpering girl we know and love.


Heat on the street

It was practically too hot to move today. But I had to (go into town to get a new phone sorted, wooo) so I wore as little as possible.
See, GYM LEGS! I slathered them in Factor 30, never fear. I'll be blinding you with my vampire legs for months to come (we hope).
Until about 11 hours ago these shorts were skinny jeans. Around this time last year, when I was about a size bigger than I am now (ie a GREAT white whale) I ordered several pairs of Asos jeans. The trouble with skinny jeans is that (and if anyone knows of any mid-price brands that DON'T do this, name!) they assume that you are just as big round the front as round the back, so now all the jeans I fitted into last summer have a little room at the front for a baby bump or a food baby. Unattractive, cheap-looking (as in 'cannot afford jeans that fit') gape-age. Ugh.
So that was another good reason to cut off a pair into shorts. I have some lovely light blue ones that are amazing, but also suffer from the 'missing belly' waistband gape. Sigh.
So yes, voila shorts! I may do some more customising of them at a later date, but today I was in a hurry and had just enough time to make them look relatively even all the way round.
Last Saturday night at work today before the long summer break - woo! True to form hardly any custom so I spent a lot of time clapping at Dr Who and dancing around to music tv. This was shot with Alejandro as the soundtrack. Good ol' Gaga.
Then on the bike ride home we had some of the Avatar soundtrack, which was quite fitting considering this sunset...
The camera doesn't do it justice but the sun was blood red. Y'know, neon blood. And then the moon rose orange. So it's been a colourful night. And now my room has actually got cold again so I'm going to take full advantage and sleep. Night!


Everybody cut footloose

Hellz yeah! I was boogie-ing on down to....well actually, to Kelly Rowland. Have you heard her new song? Killer. But dancing is dancing.
S'alright y'all, I'll be your commander. In my leopard-print shirt and the cutest little peep-toe boots ever. The laces and eyelets are so delicate. I've loved them from the moment I saw them and when they finally went on sale they were MINE. Mwahahaha. There is so much wonderful stuff around. I'm eyeing up Topshop's armour ring and their striped split-side maxi-dress, but so is the rest of the world and they're both sold out. Sigh. Ah well, I've got plenty of clothes 'til then.
It's strange thinking that I've only got a few days left at work before the long summer holiday. I spent so much time underground that I don't really notice the long sunny afternoons.
The evenings are nice though.

RAGE! Updated!

Another day in the ongoing campaign for natural beauty by RedHead, a bitter blow is struck.
Let's look at Exhibit A; the gorgeous, unique and quirky Kristen Stewart, beloved by RedHead, despised by legions of R-Patz fans (15-year-olds, bitchy gossip queens, menopausal women....).

Here she is at the LA premiere of the summer's biggest swoon-fest, Eclipse, in Ellie Saab. Hooray! Gone are the dodgy, ageing full-length dresses of premieres and awards gone by, and back is the young and fun dressing that we love K-Stew (and her model pins) for.

But could my dearly loved Grazia, queen of the high-end weekly, share my sentiment and shout hooray at the return of the young, hot Kristen?

Could it hell. Check their website here for the full verdict, but the sentence that really got my goat. 'Those pins of yours are shockingly pale! Oh, what we'd give to see the gal a bit bronzed up...'

Rage doesn't even come into it. Admittedly, I could count the number of times on one hand that they've shown a non-sunkissed celebrity on their cover, but from a magazine with eye-watering fashion pages and a genuine love of bringing us cutting-edge trends, the fact that they can't put their money where their Chanel-slicked mouths are and champion a natural woman who chooses to leave the fake tan at home and flaunt what God gave her as opposed to yet another California fake-baked identikit starlet, and thus indirectly telling me exactly what Company told me a few month's back - that my whole damn body is unnaceptable because it's pale - makes my blood boil. Get those legs out Kristen; they are fabulous, you are fabulous and I'll defend you to the last. Shame on you Grazia.

UPDATED - As you will see if you click on the link, Grazia has not only removed their own comment that got me so riled, but all comments by readers on the entry. A victory for free speech?

Further proof that the Superwoman exists and she is ginger

I previously published a post under that title featuring the divine Christina Hendricks. That face! That hair! That cleavage! I need to get the Mad Men boxset.
But I've got more proof for you here that the Superwoman is cut from an albaster and ginger cloth - the Louis Vuitton Fall '10 campaign. Watch Karen Elson work it beside her stoic co-stars (yes I know I'm speaking ill of the great Christy Turlington, and she does look beautiful too, as does the doe-eyed, Angela Hayes-a-like Nadia Vodianova, but Karen wins for me. While the other two are static, she is alive, vibrant and sensual.)

Just look at her.
(Yet note how she's never in the foreground.)
(Photos from Fashion Gone Rogue)


Racing for Pinks

I would like to showcase a look I like to call 'lesbian Friar Tuck on safari'.
Not that I've got anything against the lesbian/Friar Tuck take on a look. But it's such a letdown after yesterday. A haircut can make a difference in a bad way too.
This is a bad camera angle because I had to rely on hip-heigh steps. In actual fact, these trousers make my waist look really small but as a result make my hips look big (not helped by the creases from sitting down all day). Gok would disapprove. All the fashion editrixes would disapprove. Who cares? It's all meant to be about experimenting. Don't worry, I'll find a perfect way to wear these trousers. And I've mastered the catwalk belt-knotting trick.
Besides, I'm far too wired to be down. Finally watched Footloose tonight (no way near enough dancing) and am buzzing. SJP was such a cutie back then.

Tom Ford does it again. PHWOAR.

Tom Ford F/W '10 Eyewear Campaign (images from Fashion Gone Rogue) *gasp*. Warning - what you are about to see may generate in you an uncontrollable horn for a young man who first appeared on our screens with bad eyebrows, stupid hats and some 'cool' trainers.
And it also features the gorgeous Freja posing with some very cool Sabo-looking ravens.

Oh it's a wonderful day. Asos Magazine has Ashley Greene as their cover girl. And Kelly Rowland's Commander is on the tv. And I didn't have to watch any football. All is good.


Love is a Battlefield...wait Brick where'd you get a hand grenade?

Lolz. I'm in a humorous mood.
I shame myself by admitting the first time I heard that song was in 13 Going On 30. Oh the cheese factor. Oh it is still so wonderfully awful.
I have reinstalled Limewire so it's been an evening of classic cheesy rock and pop. I actually have '99 Red Balloons'. In German. I first heard that in Watchmen. See, I am far too cool.

Almost as cool as this guy. Rhys Ifans suddenly became cool when he chucked that disease centre Sienna Miller. Ugh. She's down there with Cheryl Cole in my list of people who've done great disservice to fashion.
But I'm here to bitch. I'm here to declare Gavin the King of Cool. I thought of him mainly because today I wore my most amazing flat shoes that I believe might be known as 'winklepickers', and whatever they're called, Gavin would love them.

I bet he would. As with yesterday, this look is actually a fusion of two looks from my pick of the Resorts. This time, two from Helmut Lang.

I'm not sure if he'd love my new hairdo, but I do. For more recent RedHead converts, I used to have an undercut a la Amelle from the Sugababes, but I got rid of it as I got sick of it and thought I looked too butch. Big mistake. A simple half-shaved head can do wonders for bad hair days. Flat hair is never a worry again; no hair looks flat when there's a bald bit to contrast. It gives me edge and sass. I think it's far sexier than what I had before. Maybe that's why I never pick men up...an article in the Mail talking about cheating men warned wives to beware of women with long hair. Yet the politician unveiled as a hypocritical cheat has a short-haired mistress, so that's a bunch of crap. My hair is my thing, and I love it short. One day, some B-lister will cut all hers short and the world will see sense. We've totally embraced trousers, yet we are still reluctant to embrace mens' hairstyles.
I could be here all night.


King of Pain

I couldn't comment on whether there was a little black spot on the sun today, as I spent most of it inside and underground. Looking forward to being in a workplace with windows.
I was the King of Pain today as I still can't walk down stairs properly due to my tight leg muscles and the fact that I have an epic, multi-layered blister on my foot. Wah wah wah. Silly shoes tomorrow I think.
Today's outfit, due to the heat, was rather minimal, and to make it really work I sense the need for many more layers and jewels. But it centred round a very specific pair of trousers.
These Topshop bad boys, first seen on Karen of Where Did U Get That. I actually saw these in the shop before I saw them on Karen. I even tried them on. They failed. I saw them on Karen. I concluded they were awesome and deserved a second go. I bought them a size bigger. Much better. I can hide things in them. Y'know, in theory.
I am MC Hammerin' away. See, they look fine when I go on tiptoe and do distracting poses! Hippy girls can wear harems!
Y'know, in theory. But they are fun, comfy and will probably look better with some attitude-packed sunglasses, a jacket and some extra cool shoes. Or boots. The possibilities are endless. After yesterday's love-in with blue and leopard print, I was so lazy today I just cut out the middle man. I have a lovely blue tiger-stripe scarf that I got recently in the Harvey Nichols sale. Did I tell you? I am just excited. Look, here it is.
Ahhhhh. Imagine that with the trousers. Madness. Or my leopard-print shirt with my zebra-print skinny jeans.....oh it will be wonderful. But let's stick to the leopard harems for now.
And actually, they are a neat fusion of two of my fave Resort looks.

You see? Coooooool. Though I want those Preen shorts. Or is it a skirt? I feel the need to make some cool stuff. Gok has filled me with this compulsion to stitch everything to everything else and put studs on it all.