Last winter I bummed this pair of fishnet tights that I chopped up and cut holes into, and fell head over heels in love with the 90's grunge aesthetic. With all this autumn winter 10/11 business rolling about I'm feeling more and more that I need to work out my winter wardrobe. Especially since I'll be selling a bunch of my old clothes off to fund the cold season's crop of new purchases. Today, well, actually, now, I'm sitting in starbucks writing this with my nylon magazine peeping from my bag. You all know I hate hipsters, I'm a massive hypocrite. So, I've decided that this winter my summer hipster-musings have to be binned.
Kim's already semi-shunned me for my betrayal, and so I need to fully commit to getting out of my rut. After seeing Telva's Michael Kor's spread (shot by one of my fav fashion photographers at the moment, Ruben Vega) I felt inspired to go back to grunge. If that bastion of american sportswear lux can grunge it up, I definitely can.
Vega's shoot with Tosca for Telva (try saying that fast, doesn't work) is pretty darn awesome. At first it can come off a little bland, but the longer you look at the garments, the more you're sucked into Vega's world. How did he get those pieces so.. angry? I'm not sure that's the right word, but there's an edge to the clothes that you don't usually see in Kors. An A-Line skirt and high necked white jumper shouldn't be that fierce, but here, I'm bumming it. I'd never wear it, but that's not the point.
Something terrible has happened.
I've realised that when I go back to cambridge, there will be no teapot accompanying me. With the rapid rise in leaf tea popularity at home, I am no longer monopoly share-holder on the old faithful teapot. This means I'll have to start hunting for a teapot to take up to Cambridge come October. While this may at first seem like a great opportunity to spend more money on frivolous things, it is actually one of the most daunting tasks I have been presented with for a while. While at first I was hypnotised by the exotic promises of ebay's East Asian Antiques section, I realised that while a 99p extravagant teapot might be all fine and dandy, but it doesn't count for crap in the cuppa department unless it pours well.
I've had too many dreadful experiences with poor pourers (geddit?) to fall foul of that mistake again.
So, tomorrow, armed only with a bottle of water, credit card and stubborn resilience to shop assistants saying "miss, you can't test out our pots", I'll begin the hunt for a good teapot.
Wish me luck.
For those of you that fell victim to my drunken texting last night (I checked my outbox. There were a lot of you, sorry), you'll understand why it is that this morning I'm not feeling too chirpy. If there's one thing that wakes me up properly and makes life worth living again post-big night, it's a really good pot of tea and some gentle comedy.
If I'm honest, it's not gentle comedy that I'd go to first of all, it'd be the crime drama's, but this morning alibi (best sky channel in the world) was only showing that episode of Diagnosis Murder where Barry Van Dyke is dating the serial killer rapist bitch. I've seen that one a billion times.
Fill the kettle, I'm having 5 cups at least, but I need to warm the pot first. Up to 6 we go. The kettle's full of limescale, but I'm sure that adds to the taste.. That's gross.
Lift open the lid just before boiling, the thermometer stops working then, and the water boils to super hot. Probably destroying my kettle's fuse, but it means the tea is piping hot. Yum, yum. I like the noise of the water splashing inside the kettle. I'm trying to imagine the warm water washing away my headache, but it's not working.
Warming the pot makes the tea taste better. I fill it half with warm water from the tap and half with boiling water from the kettle. Swill twice and pour it out, singing "I'm a little teapot, short and stout". I think I'm still a little drunk.
Earl Grey tea is the best tea. It smells like cool rain on my aching head. You know those nurofen adverts, where the nurofen speeds to the red target headache and gets rid of it? I have no nurofen, and I don't want to leave the safety of my home to get some. I look like crap. Anyhow, I imagine the sweet clearing smell of the tea is the nurofen and it's speeding to my head.
Three spoonfuls of the purpley tea leaves into the warm pot. Taking this photo was difficult. I nearly spilled the tealeaves everywhere. I don't have much left either, so that'd have been a disaster. Especially since I'm in no way fit to go get more from tesco. Then fill with hot water, I boiled it again to make sure it was super hot.
Stumble back into the living room, it's cosy and dark, and as much as I want to curl up under my blanket again and fall asleep, I've done that before. I always wake up 20 minutes later feeling even worse. Have to open the curtains and let daylight in, as much as it hurts. It feels like it's burning my frontal lobe, but once I stop being a drama queen, I feel slightly better being able to see stuff.
Turn on Frasier. It'd be Diagnosis Murder, but like I said, it's a repeat. I'll watch it until 10.40 when Cash in the Attic starts, that's brilliant hangover tv.
By now the tea should be brewed. I put the strainer on the cup and pour it out. Again, this photo was mad difficult to take, especially since I had my runway edit under the cup. I was so scared I was going to spill it on that holy publication that I set my camera on a timer.
That's a wonderful sight. That teamed with Niles' antics pursuing Daphne makes me feel much better.
This is a better sight. Oreos yum. I justify this by telling myself that I need to replenish my blood sugar. It's mad low at the moment.
Cash in the Attic's on now. I'm going to watch it.
The day before yesterday I had a lovely day with Anna (who has her own super cool blog, with an even superer cooler name - fynf.blogspot.com) at Somerset House, to have a spy around their exhibit celebrating the first fabulous twenty years of Maison Martin Margiela and the house's massive influence over modern fashion.
The LOVELY Anna in a TERRIBLE photo, sneaking through the exhibit
Walking around the exhibit, which was laid out in an undone-minimalist way, I felt seriously uneducated about the house and fashion in general, but after an hour of cautious peeking around curtains, corners and into boxes, I came out feeling pretty cultured and far more educated about a brand I previously only knew as "that bad-ass dude that made the blonde hair coat".
To get in, follow the Tabi Boot footprints
It was £5 for entry, but I'd say it's definitely worth it. Walking around, every inch of the space used matches the aesthetic that you see Margiela's shows, so even if you are, like me, a bit of a avant-garde fashion newbie, just gawking about the exhibit allows you to gain a better understanding of the brand's identity.
The exhibit opened with a massive screen showing a series of MMM's catwalk shows, with enormous 12ft models strutting their anonymous stuff towards us. The drama of the screen teamed with the sculptural jackets forming a type of front row to the show really set the scene for the rest of the exhibit.
The two coats that made Anna near enough fall over. I don't blame her.
All in all, I'd definitely recommend this exhibit to EVERYONE. Even if you're not a fan of the brand, the exhibit explains Margiela's concepts and ideas in such a way that you can't help feeling a deeper respect and understanding for the garments created by the house when you leave.
Me and Milly are selling LOADSA stuff this Sunday morning to raise money for our trip to Japan and generally to pull ourselves out of debt. Despite the generosity of La Tasca diners, I'm still broke. So if you feel like coming along to have a chat or to drop a few pounds into our empty pockets, head for Columbia Road Flower Market this Sunday from 9ish until 2ish. We'll be on nearby Ezra Street at some amazing sounding studio full of our old clothes, books and miscellainy. And my mum gave me a bunch of kids clothes from the mid 90's to try and shift as well. So if you are TINY and have a superfresh style, you'll def have to have a gander.
Exciting, non?
Also, that photo is misleading. It's the only one I could find of us together without a fingerprint over my face. And we don't always dress like extras from a cross between harry potter and grange hill. That was for a "Back to School" themed night, DON'T PANIC.
But if you did find yourself panicking, listen to this, Ed got me full on addicted to Gorillaz's latest album, I've had Rhinestone Eyes on repeat for DAYS:
Goldhawk Road is one of my favourite places in West London. Nowhere else will you find various members of Middle Earth out in plain view downing Special Brews with quite as much enthusiasm as you will on the corner of Shepherds Bush Market and Goldhawk Road, nor will you ever find an area with such a high concentration of SUV-like cars teamed with quite as high an unemployment rate as there is here.
Despite all this chat, I do love it for other, more valid reasons. I love that there are a billion buses that take you there, I love that its right around the corner from Westfields, and I LOVE the fabric shops. I love that whatever fabric you could ever want, in whatever length, in whatever colour, stretch stitch or weight, you'll find it there. However, I did think that there was one type of textile you wouldn't/couldn't find next door to the Middle Earth Men, that's anything by Liberty of London.
I got proved royally wrong today at Classic Textiles.
They had the most beautiful collection of Liberty silks and cotton prints. The prices start at £16 a metre, but they do have a selection of off cuts that you can buy for quilting or accessorising. Me and Alex had a wander and peered in the window for about 10 minutes, drooling over a flame red, coral and yellow peacock print silk, UNTIL we got inside.
When we got inside, the woman informed us that they were sold out of the orange colour, but she had just received some in a rich blue purple black wonderful amazing tint. She held it out for us to see, and I swear, my heart flew out of my chest, flung itself at the silk and just beat there against the crisp peacock feathers for a full 20 seconds. I was in love, but unfortunately, my credit card wasn't. Alex's however, was, and she bought two metres of it. God I'm jealous.
Also, apologies for the state of these photos, they were taken on my phone, and because of my hard-drive failing, I don't have photoshop to edit the colours.. Sorry!
Today was a REALLY good day. I spent it with good friends and in good(ish) weather, taking advantage of the amazing city that I live in.
Because Jen was down for a couple of days, I had a few days off work to travel around with her and really appreciate London. Yesterday we went to the British Museum to look at pretty much everything, but today was even better. Me, Jen and Katy spent the afternoon at the Tate Modern and wandering about the south end of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road, running away from overly enthusiastic album touts.
Miraslaw's Giant Box, photographed by Philip Jones.
At the moment, the tenth installment in the Unilever Series is Miroslaw Balka's "How It Is". His piece is an amazing grey steel structure housing a pitch black chamber measuring 13 metres high and 30 metres long. The entire inside is coated with a soft furry black velvet, a fabric that not only absorbs any light that hits it, but provides a reeally amazing and sensual feeling when you reach out and find you're at a wall.
I literally spent 10 seconds going "oh my god, it's SO SOFT"
The fact that inside the huge steel box you are deprived of any sight, any encounter you have with someone or something feels ten times as dynamic. Speech was piercingly amplified and seemed to come from a precise location and touch sent tiny fizzes down my fingertips. Needless to say, I'm still really excited about this massive box. I'd recommend a visit to EVERYONE. Although, pick a better day than we did for visiting, due to "industrial action" half of the Tate was closed!! Only the post Second World War pieces on the 3rd floor were still open, I was very very disappointed to be missing out on Jeff Koons' work on the 5th.
ME: I like lots of things but its shit to list that here. Read my blog, you'll get me eventually. I don't even know why this part of the blog exists, just cos its a template, and I dont know how to get rid of it. Might as well fill it with something
I don't update this blog as much as I should, apologies. I'm a 20 year old student living in London/Cambridge depending on the dates. I've just finished a difficult two years studying Japanese, and while I loved my culture/essay subjects, the grammar got to me, and I'm starting my final two years in History of Art in October! VERY exciting. This blog is both a diary for me and a collection of things within art, fashion and music that I find interesting.
