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.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
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?
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?
Thursday, March 20, 2008
street art and a dress
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
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...)
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...)
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
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)
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)
Friday, March 07, 2008
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!)
“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!)
Monday, March 03, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
This is the most brilliant idea I heard in a long time.
Take:
1 really, really bad film
+
2 comedians making live commentaries about it…
…and you have the Barbican Bad Film Club Screening of the Month.
This month’s film will be Glitter, with Mariah Carey.
Now, amazing voice aside, I find Mariah hilarious without even trying. Now, in a film? With live comedians? Starting now, I will probably laugh forever.
For those in London, the screening is on March 4th and I will be the crazy one laughing in the last row.
(hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha)
Take:
1 really, really bad film
+
2 comedians making live commentaries about it…
…and you have the Barbican Bad Film Club Screening of the Month.
This month’s film will be Glitter, with Mariah Carey.
Now, amazing voice aside, I find Mariah hilarious without even trying. Now, in a film? With live comedians? Starting now, I will probably laugh forever.
For those in London, the screening is on March 4th and I will be the crazy one laughing in the last row.
(hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha)
Monday, February 25, 2008
Black is the new black
Yesterday I was torn between staying awake to watch the Red Carpet coverage of the Oscar (which would mean sleeping incredibly late because of the time difference) and going to bed early (which would mean waking up rested with great glowing skin...or maybe just rested with ok skin, which in any case is much better than tired with horrible skin).
Going to bed won and boy am I glad!
Looking at the pictures this morning, I think the Red Carpet should be renamed the “Black Carpet”. Nothing against a great black dress, especially coming from someone who thinks cream makes a splash of colour…
But come on Red Carpet People, you didn’t even have the Golden Globes to dress up for, so I was hoping for a little bit more creativity.
Oh well, here are some dresses I loved for being colourful and breaking the rule. And, below, the Black Sea on the Red Carpet.
(PS, I did realize, after posting this, that some of the dresses are not black, but navy, like Penelope's, or brown. But it was early in the morning and I was suffering from temporary colour-blindness. Blame it on the Red Carpet People)
Going to bed won and boy am I glad!
Looking at the pictures this morning, I think the Red Carpet should be renamed the “Black Carpet”. Nothing against a great black dress, especially coming from someone who thinks cream makes a splash of colour…
But come on Red Carpet People, you didn’t even have the Golden Globes to dress up for, so I was hoping for a little bit more creativity.
Oh well, here are some dresses I loved for being colourful and breaking the rule. And, below, the Black Sea on the Red Carpet.
(PS, I did realize, after posting this, that some of the dresses are not black, but navy, like Penelope's, or brown. But it was early in the morning and I was suffering from temporary colour-blindness. Blame it on the Red Carpet People)
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Burberry dreams
Ok, so back to a certain level of pinkness…
I have this wedding to go to in Austria (also known as Gringowlindowland) and of course I am already thinking about my dress. Even though the wedding is only in the end of August. And even though I haven’t even received the invitation. Call me crazy (although I have a nagging feeling that my craziness won’t seem crazy at all to my fellow inhabitants of the female species).
The thing is, I am scarred for life because of this wedding I went a few years back in Madrid. It was a pretty fancy affair but my budget was not stretching very far. So I had the idea of wearing a dress I already owned, a long sleeveless black piece, and jazz it up with a fringed shale. Very Spanish, I thought. Of course it was 150 million degrees and the reception was outdoors. Black in the Spanish summer, what was I thinking? Plus, a friend, not realizing I was wearing black, remarked how “it was a faux pas to wear black at a wedding in Spain”.
To summarize, I spent the whole day hot and very self-conscious (at least until the champagne kicked in and I forgot I even had a dress on).
So since then I take great care to plan my (other people’s) wedding outfits.
I have already found the first contestant. Never mind is from Burberry Prorsum and therefore out of by budget by about 3 thousand pounds. A girl can always dream…
(the dress)
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
...
I know this blog is normally fluffy and cheerful and pink
But sometimes it’s hard not to feel just blue.
But sometimes it’s hard not to feel just blue.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Cashmere in need
I have always wanted to have a cashmere jumper. But they used to be quite expensive. And I used to be quite skint. Then they became cheaper and I bought myself one. Simple and black. From Uniqlo. I have been in love with it ever since and use it all the time, with everything. I even fought my huge aversion to hand-washing and hand-washed the baby as instructed by the label. Oh, my cashmere jumper. It is soft and snugly and comfortable. And now it is also full of little balls.
If anyone has a good tactic for getting rid of them, please email cashmereinneed.co.uk. Or just leave a comment...
If anyone has a good tactic for getting rid of them, please email cashmereinneed.co.uk. Or just leave a comment...
Friday, February 15, 2008
End of the week
A few considerations about my week at the fashion week:
* Vivienne Westwood rocks rocks rocks and I wanna be like her when I grow-up.
* Even though I walked the length of Fidel Castro’s speeches going from one show to the other (normally located on opposite sides of town), and even though I existed on a diet of coffee, red bulls and wasabi peas (what did I do before them?), my jeans are not even one little inch looser. On the contrary. Isn’t there any justice in the world?
* Without a good little camera it is pointless trying to photograph a show. I have a collection of lovely pictures of models backs. And another collection of lovely images of the backs of the heads of the people sitting in front of me. From which I will spare you.
*Some ideas to copy. Or can I be sued by anyone for saying that?!. Rephrasing:
Some ideas to pay homage to:
Transparent sandals with pompom socks, as seen on Ashish. By the way, anyone knows where to find pompom socks? Haven’t seen them since it was really appropriate for me to wear things with pompoms…
* Vivienne Westwood rocks rocks rocks and I wanna be like her when I grow-up.
* Even though I walked the length of Fidel Castro’s speeches going from one show to the other (normally located on opposite sides of town), and even though I existed on a diet of coffee, red bulls and wasabi peas (what did I do before them?), my jeans are not even one little inch looser. On the contrary. Isn’t there any justice in the world?
* Without a good little camera it is pointless trying to photograph a show. I have a collection of lovely pictures of models backs. And another collection of lovely images of the backs of the heads of the people sitting in front of me. From which I will spare you.
*Some ideas to copy. Or can I be sued by anyone for saying that?!. Rephrasing:
Some ideas to pay homage to:
Transparent sandals with pompom socks, as seen on Ashish. By the way, anyone knows where to find pompom socks? Haven’t seen them since it was really appropriate for me to wear things with pompoms…
Monday, February 11, 2008
Wanna trade a front-row ticket on a cool show for a standing ticket on a crappy one?
Or
Why a blog is the wonderful device that makes sure the annoying things that happen to you are not completely for nothing…
Second day of London Fashion Week…never too early for shenanigans.
So I thought I could go to show A at 16h15 (the crappy one) and still make it to show B at 17hs (the good one). Even though they were on opposite sides of town. And I don’t have a driver (obviously).
So of course show A was super late and when I left, at 17h15, I decided it was silly to go all the way to show B as I would not make it on time (ok, Gringowlindow’s text mentioning something about mashed potatoes for dinner also played its part).
So I am on the bus going home and decide to take another look at show B’s invitation. Hours earlier, I had been intrigued by the seating code on it: “Block C Row FIS”. I kept trying to understand what kind of row that was. Row F Standing…But what did the letter I stand for?
Back on the bus, all of a sudden it dawns on me: FIS = FIRST.
That’s what four seasons of standing or seating on row Z do to a poor soul.
So to summarize I went to crappy standing show A and didn’t make it to cool front-row show B. Which probably had a yummi goody bag, but now I am just torturing myself.
PS: I know I could have told the story above in half the space and double the clarity…but please bare with me…too much chiffon makes the brain go fuzzy. Or maybe it is the champagne.
Why a blog is the wonderful device that makes sure the annoying things that happen to you are not completely for nothing…
Second day of London Fashion Week…never too early for shenanigans.
So I thought I could go to show A at 16h15 (the crappy one) and still make it to show B at 17hs (the good one). Even though they were on opposite sides of town. And I don’t have a driver (obviously).
So of course show A was super late and when I left, at 17h15, I decided it was silly to go all the way to show B as I would not make it on time (ok, Gringowlindow’s text mentioning something about mashed potatoes for dinner also played its part).
So I am on the bus going home and decide to take another look at show B’s invitation. Hours earlier, I had been intrigued by the seating code on it: “Block C Row FIS”. I kept trying to understand what kind of row that was. Row F Standing…But what did the letter I stand for?
Back on the bus, all of a sudden it dawns on me: FIS = FIRST.
That’s what four seasons of standing or seating on row Z do to a poor soul.
So to summarize I went to crappy standing show A and didn’t make it to cool front-row show B. Which probably had a yummi goody bag, but now I am just torturing myself.
PS: I know I could have told the story above in half the space and double the clarity…but please bare with me…too much chiffon makes the brain go fuzzy. Or maybe it is the champagne.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Westwoodholics Anonymous
Forget the Chinese year of the rat…this is the definitely the year of the Vivienne. Ok, I know I am becoming a bit repetitive with my Westwood-related posts, but what can I do if the woman keeps giving?
So first it was the collaboration with Melissa that got me all excited. Then, yesterday, I am minding my own humble business when the post arrives with an invitation to her show at London Fashion Week. Of course it wasn’t out of the blue, like they one day woke up and thought: “Hummmm, let’s give an invitation to the needy”. I asked for it. But being sort of at the bottom of the fashion food chain as I am, I wasn’t expecting them to actually send me one. But they did. And as much as I want to be all blasé about it for the sake of looking really cool, the hell with it. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAI!
So I will have to do one more Westwood-related post after the show, it would be a crime not to. After that I promise I will go on a detox and talk about other things. At least until the sale… 
So first it was the collaboration with Melissa that got me all excited. Then, yesterday, I am minding my own humble business when the post arrives with an invitation to her show at London Fashion Week. Of course it wasn’t out of the blue, like they one day woke up and thought: “Hummmm, let’s give an invitation to the needy”. I asked for it. But being sort of at the bottom of the fashion food chain as I am, I wasn’t expecting them to actually send me one. But they did. And as much as I want to be all blasé about it for the sake of looking really cool, the hell with it. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAI!
So I will have to do one more Westwood-related post after the show, it would be a crime not to. After that I promise I will go on a detox and talk about other things. At least until the sale…
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Hat-hair
I am a big fan of beanies and other woolly hats. And it seems that the designers showing in NY at the moment will also be keen on protecting our ears from the freezing cold come next winter.
The only problem is how to avoid the famous hat-hair. I believe different girls get different types of hat-hair. Mine is the classical shape: all flat and nasty on the top of the head, with the rest flaring out uncontrollably. Kind of like a bell-bottom hair. Or "skinny-flared", as Topshop likes calling them now.
In any case, I digress. If anyone has a good recipe for avoiding hat-hair, please share with the rest of us! The only solution I have found so far is to tuck all the hair inside the hat, thus avoiding the flaring effect. But then I don't get that pretty hat+flowing hair thing going on. And I end up looking more like a giant condom. Oh boy, is there a solution to the hat-hair problem? And more important, don't I have anything more pressing things to do than worrying about this?
(Pictures: Narciso Rodriguez, Alexander Wang, DKNY, DKNY again, Doo.ri, Karen Walker)
The only problem is how to avoid the famous hat-hair. I believe different girls get different types of hat-hair. Mine is the classical shape: all flat and nasty on the top of the head, with the rest flaring out uncontrollably. Kind of like a bell-bottom hair. Or "skinny-flared", as Topshop likes calling them now.
In any case, I digress. If anyone has a good recipe for avoiding hat-hair, please share with the rest of us! The only solution I have found so far is to tuck all the hair inside the hat, thus avoiding the flaring effect. But then I don't get that pretty hat+flowing hair thing going on. And I end up looking more like a giant condom. Oh boy, is there a solution to the hat-hair problem? And more important, don't I have anything more pressing things to do than worrying about this?
(Pictures: Narciso Rodriguez, Alexander Wang, DKNY, DKNY again, Doo.ri, Karen Walker)
Monday, February 04, 2008
I want you!
I raved a while ago about the happy collaboration between Melissa (my favourite Brazilian shoe brand) and Vivienne Westwood (my favourite lots of things). But I was a little bit scared that the final product would be a bit disappointing, like if Shiloh Jolie Pitt would grow up to be, well, challenged in the aesthetic department.
But I am very pleased to announce that the shoes look great and are already on the number 1 position in my “I-want-it-so-bad-and-I-want-it-now” list…
(the objects of my desire)
The shoe comes out in the middle of the year…so dear Brazilian friends-that-became-readers (you know who you are), get ready to cue, kick and slap in order to buy me one (of a few) pair. Seriously, it is in times of need that friendships get tested and I know you won’t disappoint.
Alternatively, if anyone from Melissa happens to stumble upon this blog, and want to compensate my years and years of loyalty to jelly shoes, I am a size 39/40 and prefer basic colours such as black and cream.
(It’s always worth a try, me thinks)
But I am very pleased to announce that the shoes look great and are already on the number 1 position in my “I-want-it-so-bad-and-I-want-it-now” list…
(the objects of my desire)
The shoe comes out in the middle of the year…so dear Brazilian friends-that-became-readers (you know who you are), get ready to cue, kick and slap in order to buy me one (of a few) pair. Seriously, it is in times of need that friendships get tested and I know you won’t disappoint.
Alternatively, if anyone from Melissa happens to stumble upon this blog, and want to compensate my years and years of loyalty to jelly shoes, I am a size 39/40 and prefer basic colours such as black and cream.
(It’s always worth a try, me thinks)
Friday, February 01, 2008
You what???
Disclaimer: This story is 100% true, and it happened to me yesterday, 5pm, at the Royal Academy of Arts.
...
So there I was enjoying this great exhibition called “From Russia”, which shows amazing pieces from Russian museums and collections, from artists such as Matisse, Picasso and Gauguin.
It was then that I overheard a conversation between two very English, very proper, middle-aged gentlemen.
GENTLEMAN 1 – Oh my god, I have never seen such a massive bonner. (A bonner is a slang for what happens to a man’s…mmmm…manhood when he is happy to see you).
ME (thinking) – Oh my god, I can’t believe I just heard that.
ME (thinking again and never one to miss the action) – Mmmmm, I wonder in which of the paintings the bonner is. Those naughty Russians! Let’s investigate.
GENTLEMAN 2 – True, if I didn’t know it was a bonner I would not have recognized it.
ME (thinking, alarmed) – Oh my god! Where is this huuuuuuuuge bonner??
And it was then that I saw a very large painting. Lots of beautiful, strong colours. No bonner. Then I saw the name of the artist. Pierre. BONNARD.
(A Bonnard. Hihihi)
...
So there I was enjoying this great exhibition called “From Russia”, which shows amazing pieces from Russian museums and collections, from artists such as Matisse, Picasso and Gauguin.
It was then that I overheard a conversation between two very English, very proper, middle-aged gentlemen.
GENTLEMAN 1 – Oh my god, I have never seen such a massive bonner. (A bonner is a slang for what happens to a man’s…mmmm…manhood when he is happy to see you).
ME (thinking) – Oh my god, I can’t believe I just heard that.
ME (thinking again and never one to miss the action) – Mmmmm, I wonder in which of the paintings the bonner is. Those naughty Russians! Let’s investigate.
GENTLEMAN 2 – True, if I didn’t know it was a bonner I would not have recognized it.
ME (thinking, alarmed) – Oh my god! Where is this huuuuuuuuge bonner??
And it was then that I saw a very large painting. Lots of beautiful, strong colours. No bonner. Then I saw the name of the artist. Pierre. BONNARD.
(A Bonnard. Hihihi)
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Philosophy
So I was talking to my friend Lady L. the other day and realized that one of my drunken reminiscences had actually helped her come to terms with some truths within herself. It had helped in her soul-searching, to reach the depths of human existence. So I thought maybe it could help other lost souls that read this blog.
Next time you are buying the 45867 pair of earrings or the 4857483 bangle, instead of feeling guilty, repeat the mantra:
"I collect jewellery"
Like people collect stamps or match boxes or one night stands. We collect jewellery. So not only we never ever have to feel guilty about the ridiculous amount of metal and beads accumulated over the years, we can also use the mantra to silence our other halves in the few occasions they dare criticize our shopping habits.
PS: The mantra doesn't apply only to jewellery. Here are a few ideas of alternative uses:
"I collect shoes"
"I collect bags"
"I collect clothes"
And for the real shopaholics among us (...may Mastercard have mercy on their souls...):
"I collect anything made of fabric, metal, plastic or skin"
Next time you are buying the 45867 pair of earrings or the 4857483 bangle, instead of feeling guilty, repeat the mantra:
"I collect jewellery"
Like people collect stamps or match boxes or one night stands. We collect jewellery. So not only we never ever have to feel guilty about the ridiculous amount of metal and beads accumulated over the years, we can also use the mantra to silence our other halves in the few occasions they dare criticize our shopping habits.
PS: The mantra doesn't apply only to jewellery. Here are a few ideas of alternative uses:
"I collect shoes"
"I collect bags"
"I collect clothes"
And for the real shopaholics among us (...may Mastercard have mercy on their souls...):
"I collect anything made of fabric, metal, plastic or skin"
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Little balls in funny places...
Few things trigger my fancy to the extent that I seriously start doing imaginary bank-robbery plans. Ok, maybe a bit more than just a few things. But I still get all flustered and excited as if I was a 13 year old shoe-virgin when I see such beauties as these Dior shoes, brought to my attention by fellow blog Glam & Tonic.
The colours are delicious. They have studs and little balls in funny places. They have platforms and are amazingly high. What’s not to love?
My inner Drag Queen (who has been asleep lately, knocked-out by my current preference for little dresses in muted colours) has awakened with a jump singing “It’s Raining Men” to the top of her feather-covered lungs.
The colours are delicious. They have studs and little balls in funny places. They have platforms and are amazingly high. What’s not to love?
My inner Drag Queen (who has been asleep lately, knocked-out by my current preference for little dresses in muted colours) has awakened with a jump singing “It’s Raining Men” to the top of her feather-covered lungs.
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