Knowing how to travel

Step 1: Using handbag as a weapon in lines; bad idea.
Step 2: Pashminas on planes? Good for the over-powered Air Con, and for binding the legs of that kid behing you.
Step 3: Why are you even on a plane? Ultimate travel using *the* methods-

Private Jet
Private Yacht
(Private) Train
Big Boat... what Titanic? Who said Titanic? Leonardo Dicaprio is an idiot. If they'd both got on at the same time from different sides, we would have been spared a decade of breathy acting and sobbing females.

Step 4: Perfect your pose

(taken by Edward Steichen in 1928)

Now, view my practical traveling essentials:

Some comfortable heels! Manolos'll do. Ruby, to match your lips! Sigerson Morrison if your ankles are really boring...


A Roberta Di Camerino bag to rival that of Mary Poppins, to fit all of those pesky passports, duty free cigarettes, and vast amounts of cosmetics from that are needed to be carried through the airports and terminals of the world.


Courtesy of topshop, a blouse to be worn strictly by those who can't remember their last peak of fashion.


MxMJ Flannel trousers

A headband? A hat? Got to have something to cover the hair, whether by air or sea! There's something about travelling that (UO us and uk)




A sizzling jewel tone dress from SIS by Spijkers en Spijkers @ UO uk The zip makes it easy to get on.... and off. Changes in the miniature loos that you can't be sure of touching anyone?

Comfy Cardi? Alexander Wang melds his model style with grandpa's attic, invariably allowing you to....snuggle. Or smuggle, if that's your thing.

Now, one would hope that this is pretty foolproof, although I cannot claim protection against vehement Stewards that are forced to wear multicoloured I-can't-believe-it's-not-linen.

(As Alice Tinker would say, "I can't believe that the stuff that I can't believe is not linen is not I can't believe its not linen and I really can't believe that both I can't believe it's not linen and the stuff that is not I can't believe is not I can't believe it's not linen is not actually linen. And I believe that they are both, in fact, linen.")

Queen of paints? Whip your gun out.

Such an emotional little princess as I throws oneself completely and utterly into their art; in fact managing to get very covered in oil paint in the process. I have begun to be inspired by my AS Level's military theme, soley because I have recently discovered just how many colours of oil paint it takes to make khaki, let alone camouflage (thank god that painting's over..oh...damn...yeah...I have another to paint). Darlings, you should have heard the conversations during the photography of a still life for my theme... such choice phrases as... "Where's the sword Daddy?" "Oh, that sword? behind the mirror in my Dressing room." "Are the pistols on the drum next to -'s baby picture?" "the bugle...and that pipey thingy by the bayonet in the rock...."

I think it's safe to assume that our new neighbors think we're armed, dangerous and curiously dressed. My insistence on refusing to drop habits seems to help the situation along. The things you pick up in New York... they seem to have profound effects in small english places....gormless, I tell you darlings. Really, I'm just injecting a little eccentricity into the mix.

Alas, I feel that joining the infantry is a step to far, but I'm perfectly content with smacking plebians and gentleman alike with paint balls. Not that anyone would dare hit me, for fear of being smacked over the head with an army boot. Afterwards, win or loss, I find it entertaining to wear down the other team by enjoying rose and violet creams from Prestat... impecably dressed and without a speck on me, naturally. Preferably the chocolate gorging (daintily!) is accompanied by some form of cordial, which makes my tongue turn interesting colours and brings no end to witty 'banter'.


(Photo BraNewbs at Flickr)

In continuation of this theme, I present to you the French designer Robert Normand, whose dainty designs would mean that no boy could accuse you of having paint spilled on you. As an aside, the people over at Style.com have, apparently, been a tad slow on the uptake and forgotten to visit his shows. Tut Tut Vogue, if anything that's your one advantage.

He even lets you blend in with the rose bushes for camoflage with this structured number:


I fancy that even the most dilligent among you would eventually tire of prettifying ugly people by covering their mugs in pain(t), and therefore present another solution from Monsieur Normand. One must immerse oneself in jewel bright colours and imitate the (fit) girl in "Celine and Julie go boating/Celine et Julie vont en bateau" by lounging in a cafe, updating her clothes by adding Jewel-toned satin to the feather boas. You too can become trapped in your own New wave movie within a movie, watching a movie with a magic sweet. This is not, I repeat not, an order to imitate the "rough one that epitomises everything ugly that ever met the seventies, and then went and shagged Chuckie from Rugrats to produce demon spawn" [I quote a friend, who may exaggerate slightly....]

Check out the website for the rest of his collections. It's in english, for those of you that were about to experience a hemorrhage.

Now can't you just imagine the fun that would bring your wardrobe?

If your complexion is a trash and wouldn't agree with multicolours, then we can take the theme in a different direction nd watch it spin into something completely uncontrollable... like that song from the snowman that is played constantly at christmas and reminds me of being five. (the poor boy who sang that is now a middle aged man with really, really, annoying fans, poor sod. The snowman is awesome though.)


A cross between Military Russia, bohemian Prague and the Italian
Rennaisance? Check- Alexandre Herchovitch Fall 06:



Spring 08? Ditched the historic references and kept the buttons. More the military ball-


Perhaps Balenciaga 05's your take on it?


Feel you should be getting the look? The structure means it's better on short and small frames. And Boys, Up until recent memory a british guardsmen wasn't allowed up to London without a bowler hat (Locks, clearly), an umbrella (never to be opened, taxis only, no public transport), full suit and stiff collar. Why do we get rid of these rules? Anyway, the subtleties... structure, random unneccesary silverware, sharp tailoring, belts, shiny shoes, boots, leather, unnecesary restraints and short bursts of blue, red or green.

click on pictures for site.

just in case you're too haggard to remember "the snowman"... video

Bianco/nero

Ecco il lavoro di Paolo Roversi. Spero di vederlo veramente più spesso... Nato a Ravenna nel 1947, Paolo Roversi si accese il suo interesse per la fotografia durante una vacanza in famiglia in Spagna nel 1964. Possa dire che la maggioranza delle sue fotografie
è realizzata in monocromatico, ma un effetto etereo è attuale nelle immagini. Per esempio, vedete il suo lavoro per Vogue Italia:


[scandito da leggy e11e a TFS]

O, in altro esempio, da un'esibizione del "national Portrait Gallery" in Inghilterra

[arts london-lccnews]

Written in my rusty italian ;)

The general gist: Don't you just love the etherealness of Roversi's black and white shots?

Just check out Freja Beha Erichsen and Natalia Vodianova, shot in 2007 and 2002 respectively. And now the rest of the editorial from Vogue Italia...

Thou shalt not have sinful proportions. Or thou shalt not be clothed.

There's something so awesome about laziness- especially in clothing, where we call it "effortless", when really it's so plasing because it reminds us of not having to do stuff. Naturally, it is the hardest thing to pull of because you have to appear to be charismatic and stylish whilst looking not bothered...

WHY IS IT THAT EVERyONE EXCEPT ME HAS FOUND THEIR LEATHER JACKET?

If it's true that we gauge a person's happiness by their quality of life, then these models are screwed. I however, prefer to think that my happiness is more superficial and therefore less prone to...injury. In which case....give me their clothes. Most people are not something one thinks about in terms of dressing, for it can hurt the eye so to look upon an ugly visage (go watch sex and the city. Designer clothes mixed with....). It appears now that certain designers, Alexander Wang a notable amongst them, have decided to forgo the Wendies [see-common people] all together and design with the aim of attaining models off-duty as their custom. Call it elitist..call it marketing (just think of all the aspirers) or call it sense, you know you see it happening. The term Supermodel might not be bandied around as much, but models are certainly invading our collective subconcious and closet size.

I guess it's lucky I'm tall.
And know of a good place that stocks vintage alaia.


look at the slouch....it's like Wang burnt confectioners sugar and wrapped it around her to make a cocoon.
[Alexander wang]



Whoever by now hasn't worked out that dresses are best met with laziness has forgone my respect. ONE PIECE OF CLOTHING! (two if you're not scottish)
[3.1 Phillip Lim]


[3.1 Phillip Lim]


[Vivienne Westwood]


[Vivienne Westwood]


Just add a cigarette and a macbook/intellectual book/sketchbook....you see it don't you?
[alexander wang]


[Alexander Wang]


[Victor & Rolf]


[3.1 Phillip Lim]

Them clothes peeeeeerdy.

Thirties Languor

As the infamous Ladytron said "He took her to a movie, but so did I". Alas, my cover has not been blown, although I certainly seem to be stepping back in time with the documentary-esque collections of Costello Tagliapietra, Ann Demeulemeester, and Vena Cava. I am an Invalid at the moment, so my hallucinations have caused me to bemoan lost times that I've been reading about during my flushes of sense and sensibility. Although, you couldn't really argue that these decades need to be reconstructed.


There is something about the Twenties and Thirties that seems to appeal to young designers, and that's undeniable. There's a mystique in the clothes, that let the weares have fun whilst making them intangible like swans. Carefully executed, the clothes are the sort that you want to hand in dust bags, coated with tissue paper and unfold to the magical crackling sound and satisfying crunch of tissue on slk. (does anyone else love that feeling?) Thirties' polish shines through many collections and the pretty modernity that is associated with it seems to refresh your mind against, well, this:
How is it that they managed to drink, smoke and party whilst...showering? It mystifies me. Anyone who's read 'The Great Gatsby' can tell you that debauchery was hardly supressed and that notoriety was still valued as much as fame, yet the women of the 30s managed to retain a hint of "babylon glamour". Limpid, flowing tea dresses with drop waists, Crepe de chine trousers, Duchesse satin capes, Languid pleating- the architecture of the clothing between the wars could have been classical in origin- anyone up for sacking rome?
The construction was what worked.

In my sickness, I bring to you the modern hallucinogens that seem to be inducing my nostalgic fervour:

(requiem)

(Costello Tagliapietra)

(aquascutum)


(Vena Cava)


(aquascutum)


(3.1 Phillip Lim)


(3.1 Phillip Lim)


(A.F. Vandevorst)


Benjamin Cho


(Benjamin Cho)



(the winners of the swiss textile awards (via style bubble) Sandrina Fasoli and Michael Marson)

Runway Pictures via style.com

Is it ethical to let this picture be seen?

I feel sick. Viruses are shitty. The natural reaction of my body to this was to try and induce me to drink straight Gin and smoke out of a cigarette holder, possibly due to the fact that Cary Grant has joined the rampage in my...empty...room. So naturally, my sudden change in impulse, upon seeing this picture, whence my objective became to stab Shazza here with a fork (although, due to her cunning disguise of feathers, leather thighs, fur and...is that bird crap on her head? I could get away with a cruelty to animals indictment) should be able to be dismissed by my brain which will convince me that I am seeing things. Alas, I cannot. Let loose the Vegans.