straight men don't understand - part 1

(Yves Saint Laurent Autumn/Winter 2009 via style.com)

There are two types of women - those who dress for men and those who don't.

Well, actually that's a bit unfair. We all like to feel like we are attractive to men and that will affect the way we dress. But there is a dividing line, perfectly illustrated last night at the Hoxton Bar and Kitchen by the girls in too-tight super short body-con dresses with flippy hair and the girls in low cut sparkly things and skinny jeans and bleached blonde hair - a triumph of presentation over content.

These girls are really all about feeling good about themselves by dressing to attract men. I do not condemn this (much) but if it means that your skirt is so short that you have to keen tugging it down when you dance, perhaps you should have bought the next size up.

There are plenty of women who prefer a more subtle take on this and then there are those who dress for other women. For these creatures little is as satisfying as an honest complement on your outfit from another woman whose style you admire. And in fashion world this means wearing things that the majority straight men will never understand and often actively dislike.

Last night I wore one of these things - velvet, high waisted, vintage Mani peg legs that finish just on the ankle. JFK was unimpressed at dinner, but LMWAI and Miss Laura Trouble, who have a regular DJ slot at Hoxton Bar and Kitchen loved them.

(It might look like they're dancing and having a good time playing records, but they're actually just filled with excitement about my trousers.)

The trousers were a bit of a find - all those reconnaissance visits to Oxfam Gloucester Road finally paid off. They make me feel a bit Katherine Hepburn and, unlike most high waisted trousers or peg legs, don't make my bum look like it spreads over an area the size of the Sahara desert.

They're a bit difficult to photograph - black velvet is a bit of a light vacuum...

(Black velvety goodness)

I wore them paired with the perfect Margaret Howell Breton t shirt (an ebay bargain) and gold metal belt from the Topshop sale a couple of years ago plus my current favourite heels.

(More goodness)

We drank beer and tequila, the ultimate good time combo, but perhaps a little bit too much. Have spent most of today recovering. Ouff.

p.s. Watching The City. Perfect hangover viewing and cameos from Jane Aldridge of Sea of Shoes (who I slightly hate for being pretty and very young and in possession of an amazing wardrobe and getting to wear Chanel for the Crillon Ball. Seriously.) and Tommye Fitzpatrick of Fashionologie being shot for Elle. Lucky things.