I like to make recommendations on this blog, and I would have happily endorsed this dress from Topshop. However, it shrank in the washing machine; the instructions said to wash at 40°C, I washed it at 30°C. This was a shame, as I loved the ruffles and the gold thread running through the fabric. The folks at Topshop refunded my money without question and apologised for the inconvenience. The dress is featured in their AW16 campaign and it’s already sold out. To anyone who owns this frock, I suggest hand-washing in tepid water with a delicate detergent.
There’s nothing quite like the pleasure of a finding bargain, this 70s vintage dress was £10 on Ebay and I’m thrilled with it. I like clothes that are just on the right side of frumpy; I love the pie-crust collar and the feather print. I’ve worn it with a pair of Mary Janes by Joanne Stoker.
I’ve been a fan of Self-Portrait since its launch in 2013; in three short years the label’s popularity has grown exponentially. Self-Portrait is now stocked at Selfridges, Net-a-Porter, Matches and ASOS, to name but a few. I’ve heard women who like Self-Portrait branded as ‘basic bitches’ by other people who work in fashion; I take umbrage with this assertion. ‘Basic bitch’ is a pejorative, sexist term which describes a female conformist who loves all things bland, including Ugg Boots, Taylor Swift and Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes. The ‘basic bitch’ is a girl who is dismissed and objectified because of her taste for the popular and generic. It’s an insidious phrase which has slipped in through the back door and become a part of contemporary lingo. Although it’s often used in light hearted banter, ‘basic’ is a horrible expression and should fall into obsolescence. It’s also dripping in unintentional irony, as […]
At the moment, I like wearing different shades of the same colour. I’ve always been a fan of a pleated skirt, and despite the fact that I have many, I couldn’t resist this olive green one from ASOS. I’ve styled it with my favourite jumper from Teatum Jones‘ AW16 collection; I love the ribbed tailoring, the extra long sleeves and the cut-out details at the elbow.
In recent years I’ve become less bothered about trends; I know what suits me and I stick to it. If my look happens to be fashionable, then fine, but I certainly don’t bend my style around a flippant, passing trend. That being said, leopard print is a key look this season, but it’s also is a perennial classic that I’ve loved for years. I’m rather fond of this top by Y.A.S, although my husband thinks it looks like part of a Cirque du Soleil costume. I see what he’s saying, but I like it and that’s what counts. I’ve styled it with an old skirt from Zara (similar here) and even older boots from Carvela (similar here).
Right now, I’m in the mood for red lipstick; not the bright coral-red I’d wear in the summer, but deep, berry hues that feel right for Autumn. I’ve been wearing a lot of Cruella by Nars and Red Volution by Bourjois. I often fit my outfit around my makeup, which sometimes leaves me over made-up and over dressed. I find applying makeup therapeutic but I sometimes get a little carried away, resulting in me showing up late with a full face, when a little tinted moisturiser and a slick of mascara will do. This dress from Zara seemed to compliment the lipstick, I’ve worn it with a pair of boots I bought last year from Kurt Geiger (similar here).
I was gutted when Prince died, not quite as sad as I was when David Bowie passed away, but still. Good music embeds itself in the soul and becomes an essential part of life’s journey. It has the power to to heal a broken heart and celebrate the good times. It’s as though the musician is singing directly to you, beaming straight into your emotional life. When the person who provided the music dies, you feel as though you’ve lost a friend. From Purple Rain to Kiss, Prince was the soundtrack of my teens and twenties. I bought this blouse in Dawn O’Porter’s brilliant vintage boutique, BOB. The colour and ruffles scream Prince, which pleases me greatly. It’s impossible to rock this little beauty without a spring in my step; I wore it out the other day with I Wanna be Your Lover cranked up high on my […]
I often like to dress like an old lady; pussy bows, long sleeved vintage dresses and demure skirts in loud colours are right up my street. I think that when I hit my golden years, my style will really come into its own. I love the brazen flamboyance of style mavens like Iris Apfel, and the other venerable birds of paradise featured on Advanced Style, which is one of my favourite blogs. The influence of Alessandro Michelle at Gucci means that Granny Chic is having a bit of a moment, but I’ll be wearing this look long after the trend dissipates. I bought the blouse from Reformation last year (similar here), the skirt is 50s vintage from Etsy, and my shoes are by Joanne Stoker.
Despite its slow start, this summer has been rather glorious. However, when the temperature goes above 28°C in London, the heat becomes uncomfortable; you feel simultaneously sticky and dusty. I shouldn’t complain about the weather, given that we get so little sunshine. But I can’t help looking forward to the new season, even though we’re likely to have a few more weeks of lovely warmth. This dress from Zara (similar here) is a good transitional piece as it’s light enough to wear now, but has a few nods to AW16. The shoes are old, also from Zara – similar here and here. My sunglasses are by Versace.
There are certain looks that I revisit time and time again and the 70s frock has become a stalwart in my wardrobe. I think the 70s was the last decade of truly beautiful clothes. The 80s was brash and sometimes interesting, but not beautiful. 90s grunge was cool, while the 00s was horrid. It was the decade of overly straightened hair, bejewelled denim and sparkly butterfly-shaped crop tops. To top if off, everyone was covered in a thick layer of orange fake tan. Britney Spears has a lot to answer for. My eternal style icons are Stevie Nicks and Kate Bush. I like to imagine myself wafting around a castle carpeted with dry ice, a chorus of backing singers chronicling the narrative of my tragic love story… Of course, if my fantasy were to become a reality, […]