Crazy world...

I don’t know if it’s my coming birthday, or the fact that a Brazilian cousin, which I remember as an 8-year-old boy, is coming to visit London on his first European backpacking tour, but I have been slightly freaked out about the speed of time. And it was exactly about this that I was thinking on my way to the shop to buy milk when a boy, which could not have been more than 10, screamed to me: “Nice butt”. Ok, I was wearing velour pants, which do make my butt look cute. Buuuuut, a 10-year-old boy should not have noticed it! What do you do in a situation like that? Give him a lecture or ask for his number and keep it safe until he is of legal age and you are officially old? I ended up just ignoring him and feeling puzzled all day…

On a different note, there is definitely something wrong with your pulling power when the last two times you were blatantly chatted up were by a 10-year-old boy and by the Tesco’s cashier (who told me I smelt nice). I suspect I am not really reaching my potential target audience.

Random angry questions about the endless winter

When is it going to end? After spring?

Why does the wind sound so loud on the 16th floor (seriously, I am constantly woken up by a uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu, uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu sound which does not, I assure you, come from anything human)

Is it ok to wear a variation on the same themes (skinny jeans-boots-hoodie for day; black tights-little skirt-black sweater for night)? Every single miserable winter day?

Am I the only one thinking that snow in March in London is an enormous lack of respect?

Does mulled wine taste the same after Christmas? Or should we all start hitting the Pimms as an act of civil disobedience?

street art and a dress

in between eating, drinking, and eating some more we did loads of walking around in barcelona and these are a few things that caught my attention...

back...or as they say...de vuelta

So Barcelona was great...sun, Gaudí and yummi foods did not disappoint. Shopping, on the other hand, was a bit on the lame side of things...after crossing the city in search of the Mango outlet (a sort of Disneyland for gals like me), I had the sad experience of finding out it was closed for refurbishment until the end of the month. My disappointed expression was probably very funny, thinking about it now. At the time, not funny at all!

Apart from that it was very romantic; especially considering it was my 6 year anniversary. Even when Gringowlindow had to hold my hair in the middle of a stomach bug attack (and yes, I did get married at 15...)

(soon uploading some cool Barcelona pics...)

Arriiiiiibaaaaaaaaaaaa

Off to Barcelona for a few days of…

Sun (seriously, the weather in London has been a joke even by London standards);
Gaudí;
Sangria, tapas and other jeans-tightening delicacies;
Well deserved holidays.

(and a sale at Zara also wouldn’t be bad)

About fashion...

I will have to reproduce some of Minette Marrin’s words from a Sunday Times Style article entitled “Why Fashion Matters”. She summarized so well what I feel…

“A woman who says she is tired of fashion is pretending, or else she is deceiving herself. A woman who really is tired of fashion is a woman who is tired of life. The way we look is an essential part of who we are and how we feel”

“However you look, you cannot help but give out powerful messages about yourself – some of them voluntary, some involuntary. Fashion is, quite literally, what you make of yourself, how you fashion yourself (including how you don’t bother to).”

And, my favourite part…

“But what the puritanical critics seem to miss is the joy of fashion. It is fun to try finding your way through all the wonderful and silly ideas when you feel like it – and when you have the money. It is okay to ignore it, too. But it is amusing to experiment with new ways of looking; it is entertaining to gaze at the most beautiful materials and colours and the zaniest or most classic shapes. There is something wonderful, if slightly guilt-inducing, about searching for just the right shoes, then buying a highly impractical pair that are too expensive but irresistible. There is something positively erotic about the whisper of tissue paper when you take those drop-dead gorgeous Vivienne Westwood ankle boots out of the box at home. Those are shoes you will remember, along with all the times you wore them.”



(Illustration from the Fashion Illustration Big Book, could not find the name of the artist, but hope you don’t mind me using it…you rock!)

Buses are gonna be so last season

Guess who will become a London cyclist??? Well, after she finds the perfect bike with the perfect price and get 1 or 10 chains and locks?
Once I find it and get it, I will conquer my fear of honking buses, mean drivers and couriers-that-wear-lycra-and-cycle-with-the-speed-of-sound and become one of those annoying people who just don’t do buses! Unless it is to go partying. Or to the airport. Or somewhere far far away. Anyways, you get the idea.

For my future life as a biker, I pledge to:

* Never ever wear lycra shorts, no matter how comfortable or aerodynamic they might be.
* Ditto with bum bags.
* Always wear a helmet, even if it makes me look like a rooster.
* Never talk on the mobile while cycling even if Brad Pitt calls wanting to make babies. Or Anna Wintour offering me a job.
* Never hit pedestrians, unless they are wearing something so hideous that I can’t control myself.