The Yard Sale

So on Saturday I stayed up until four in the morning eating cake batter, drinking Sainsbury's own house red which had a rather unusual hint of the white spirit about it, and watching zombie movies to stay awake.
This, it turns out, is a pretty good recipe for a hangover.
Luckily, it was all for a good cause - the very lovely Susie Bubble's Yard Sale. I turned up more than a little late - around midday - and feeling a bit fragile but with a wicker picnick basket full of cake and biscuits which seemed to go down well. Unfortunately I missed msot of the best clothes, but the presence of Ferry the Ferrett, some amazing chicken satay and meeting some of the UK's most interesting fashion bloggers was compensation enough. And it managed not to rain the entire time I was there, whcih was relief.
As ever, where there are fashion bloggers there are amazing outfits and also rather a lot of cameras so I'm sure this is just one of many picture posts, but never mind...

Susie's done a proper write up, which helps as I don't know who anyone was and she does.

The £10 challenge - silk maxi

I apologise for the slight delay in this, our second £10 challenge posting. It was due on Sunday, I know, and three days late isn't really that slight, but let's move swiftly on.
There will be some interesting guest challengers coming up soon, but in the meantime I'm afraid you're stuck with me. Here we're going to look at an item of clothing I wouldn't usually wear - the maxi dress.
This summer is supposed to have been all about the maxi dress. But the truth of it is that most maxi dresses make most women look bigger than they really are. Yes, maxi dresses have a nasty tendency to make you look fat.
I particularly enjoy it when people write in to magazine fashion advice columns saying they need a nice dress but are not a size ten and the woman writing the column tells them that a maxi dress is very forgiving and glamorous. They are lying.
My very forgiving and glamorous friend B tells me than her bias cut maxi dress is frankly lovely, but that the ones that stick out from an empire line are "fucking vile" and that all the cheap ones that get from New Look with the empire line waist with pouffy pleated skirts that you're supposed to wear on your holiday are going to make you look big, especially if you have boobs. I'm paraphrasing slightly here, but you get the gist.
Maxi skirts are a whole other prospect - easier to wear and less of a commitment. We may talk about this in another post.
The flattering maxi dress is a rare find. If you do find it, hang on to it, regardless of what the style mavens tell you about the longer length being in or out. A flattering maxi dress can do almost anything sartorially speaking.
Sadly the maxi dress I am wearing here is not one of those. This is mainly because it is actually two sizes too big for me. But it is beautiful and would look quite spectacular on the right woman.
It's by Hoss Intropia and is made of the lightest silk. It feels a little bit like wearing expensive air with a couple of fancy corsages attached. It even has the original price tag on it, but its former owner couldn't be bothered to remove a couple of small marks that she had mysteriously managed to sully it's silky loveliness with.
Please excuse the stupid poses, I have been drinking.

£10 challenge outfit;

Dress - Hoss Intropia - car boot sale - £3

Denim jacket - Gap - car boot sale - £2

Total - £5

Shoes;

 Studio TMLS - car boot sale - £5 

(I know shoes aren't technically included in the challenge but I am super pleased with these. They are the kind of shoes that men don't really understand - slight platform, black suede, gold studs on the heel and a ridiculous heel-less ankle bit with insane straps at the back. I'll give you a better view in another post soon.)

postscript: I will probably be selling the dress on ebay, but will let you know when I get around to that.

All change

I know we're only a few months in, but I have to say that 2010 has been resoundingly shit thus far. I don't usually swear, but here it seems appropriate.
Nearly everyone I know has had a tought three months - there have been family tragedies, collapsing finances, businesses in trouble, arguments and infections. Honestly, it's like the 90s all over again, and not just on the catwalk. In my family, the 90s was not a good period - messy parental separation and breakdown, the repercussions of which we are still dealing with, and the deaths of my much loved maternal grandparents who I still miss every day.
When life is a mess and at the beginning of every day you wake up scared of what might happen next, it's the little achievements that keep you going. A lovely dinner with JFK, deciding to get rid of lots of clutter and finding new homes for things you can't bear to sell to a stranger, getting rid of shoes you really don't wear anymore, meeting your work deadlines, getting through an evening without killing your mother. These are all things to feel pleased about.
And, inevitably, I find solace in fashion. The new injection of minimalism in fashion really does appeal right now. When your life is a mess, a few well cut, clean pieces can make you at least look like you're in control. It's also time to start wearing a little bit less black (que sharp intake of breath). When you're miserable, only wearing black doesn't help improve your mood.
To that end, recent aquisitions include a pair of men's Burberry trousers in a perfect pinky-sand hue, soft and worn and perfect for wearing low on the hips and rolled up to sit just above the ankle, rescued from a pile of mens trousers at the car boot sale; a soft, pale grey, long vest from Cos; nude coloured suede ankle boots with a chunky cone shaped crepe heel from the really-quite-good-this-season River Island; A khaki green Rag and Bone cardigan with elbow patches and pockets, another carboot sale find; the perfect, 'difficult' length, Celine-beige, high waisted A line skirt (50p. At the car boot sale again); sand coloured, high waisted, deep pocketed Ralph Lauren shorts (yes, car boot sale AGAIN).
I feel like I need to show you at least some of these, but having spilt tinned peach juice on my precious beloved laptop I no longer have the facilities to do so.

Margaret Howell and Coco De Mer - London sample sales

I am in wonderful, snow covered, open fire, big dinner Yorkshire having a lovely time. But if you are in London, my advice to you is to hotfoot it to the Coco de Mer sample sale tomorrow at 108 Draycott Avenue SW3, as it's the last day and there will be achingly lovely lingerie at up to 90% off. If you see any Stella McCartney in a 32d/medium and are feeling particularly generous, you know what to do. 

I, however, shall be saving my money by eating other people's food and waiting for the Margaret Howell sample sale in March which I just found out about today and is making me fidgety with anticipation. See you there?

(Margaret Howell sample sale, 25th and 26th March, The Music Rooms, 26 South Molton Lane, W1K)

Fashion week armour on a budget

So, it's the day before London Fashion Week kicks off and I am off work sick. When colleagues come into the office coughing and sneezing I know it's only a matter of time before I am as sick as a dog - whatever anyone has got I'll always get it worse. I think my colleagues think I'm a wimp, but I can't help it. It's all very frustrating, especially because it's been happening a lot recently, even more than usual.
I'm starting to feel more like a functioning human being this evening, but the skin around my nose is red and raw from sneezing, my eyes are watery and my face is puffy and spotty. Forget trying to wangle invitations to shows and parties - I'm more concerned with not looking like cack.
Being stuck at home wrapped up in blankets yet again, and with JFK on the other side organising an exhibition in Japan, I've been reviewing some recent purchases and planning my armour for the shows I've been invited to.
The chief weapon in my arsenal is a pair of ludicrously high dove grey suede, lace up platform ankle boots.  They were a complete bargain, drastically reduced in the sale (the black version was still full price), and will ensure I can see everything from the back row by making me about six foot tall.
I'm planning on dying them black after their first couple of outings, as the grey suede will get dirty in seconds. I've been wearing them while I've been lying on the sofa and pottering about the house to try and gauge how painful they're going to be after a few hours on my feet, and they are going to hurt. A lot. But I think it's worth it.

Carvela Skittle boots

I'll be wearing them with, among other things, a pair of black Acne pre A/W 09 Jasmine trousers - an ebay bargain - with a slouchy claret coloured oversized Nicole Farhi knitted jumper layered over a black silky Cos vest.

pic via Acne Studios

And to top it all off, my new trophy, a huge dark green silk vintage Chanel scarf, another bargain from the Cabbages and Frocks Saturday market in Marylebone.

This whole outfit cost me less than £100. This makes me feel good.

Chelsea Rebelle - bad name beautiful clothes

Today I braved the grey skies and freezing rain to visit my incredible cranial osteopath in Royal Oak/Bayswater. There are many things I like about going to the osteopath. First and foremost, he makes me feel good. After the half hour session you feel like you've had the most incredible massage except he's hardly touched you. He's done amazing things for my posture and helps me feel infinitely more capable of handling the stress of my job and life in general. At £60 a session it isn't cheap, but it's half the price of an Eve Lom facial and definitely better value for money.

He's also based right by one of the nicest areas for shopping in west London. Five minutes away from the practice are some really very good charity shops on Queensway and Westbourne Grove which boast vast selections of second hand designer and vintage clothing, guaranteed to make me happy. Today I came away with a BCBG Max Azria monochrome print wrap dress that fits like it was made for me. For £10.  

After hitting the charity shops I like to have a little wonder down Westbourne Grove to look at the lovely things in the windows of the lovely shops where things are so beyond my budget it's amazing I can even afford to breathe in them.

The newest of these shops is something quite special. Wolf & Badger at 46 Ledbury Road looks like it's been put together by a museum curator and is full of the kinds of fashion and jewelry finds you dream of. It's the perfect place to pick up up-and-coming designers, or, if you're me, add names to your when-I'm-rich wish list.

The shop has had a lot of press coverage for its unique approach - the husband and wife team behind the boutique rents shelf space to individual designers and will even help them to find manufacturers for their clothing to ensure the standards remain high. They keep the rent pretty low and stock 75 different designer, most of whom you will probably not have heard of yet. 

The shop is brilliant, white with big glass display cases that exhibit the jewelry like museum artifacts and small recessed hanging spaces for each designer. 

Two designers caught my eye in particular, but I'm keeping one jealously guarded secret for the moment. The one I will share with you is the ridiculously named Chelsea Rebelle. Honestly, the name sounds like it should be on red ruched lycra dresses in discount shmatter shops in Kilburn, but don't let that put you off because designer Sarah Brannon has pulled out some immensely covetable pieces. 

Just touching these two dresses made me feel quite happy (and deliriously lustful), despite being almost soaked to the skin by so-cold-it-should-have-been-snow drizzly rain;

And I wouldn't say no to this jumpsuit either

p.s. I'm not telling you who my wonderful Osteopath is because he's so popular it takes ages to get an appointment with him as it is. 

Naked rambling

Not really truly naked. More like fully clothed but really liking nude coloured things. I've been catching up on my reading and there's a naturist feeling emerging from the blogs and that hallowed of high street trend setters Topshop which is making me a bit dreamy. A dangerous condition for a person in my kind of financial straits.

It's early still but 2010 is looking like it might be the year where I break with all my traditions - the year I stop hating wedges, leave London and embrace nudes and pastels. Well, the pastels might have their limitations as I'm not sure that looking like an early 90s M&S mannequin is really a great look whatever some designers might want us to think. And I'll not be leaving London permanently. And wedges on boots or shoes, but definitely not for sandals.

I'm trying to think of something profoundly interesting to talk about here, but I'm finding it hard to get back into the swing of the blogging thing. I do have a story about throwing up in the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge with which I have been entertaining my friends, although it certainly didn't feel funny at the time. Especially when I thought I'd got a tiny bit of sick on my brand new reduced-from-£115-to-£22.50 black and white aztec knitted lambswool-angora-cashmere cardigan of smug snugness that I got from the back of the sale rack in Monsoon in Waterloo after a one hour round trip around some of London's most depressing tube stations trying to find a working passport photo machine.

Thankfully I had recovered by Sunday when we went for a huge family lunch at an Arabic restaurant on Edgware Road with my uncle, the twin cousins B&T (I campaigned for B&H or G&T when they were born but to no avail) and their older sister A who I used to babysit when I was 15 and love to pieces. We consumed a pathetically small amount of this rather large plate of meat, but in our defence we had already had a similar amount of humous, falafel, aubergine dip, yoghurt dip and tabouleh...

Afterwards Mum and I went for a walk through town. Ostensibly she was joining me to hunt for some winter boots to replace my only pair which were a 21st birthday present to my self and are, unsurprisingly, no longer in the prime of their lives.

We saw many, many, many things that inspired momentary lust and a few other things that inspired the kind of longing that in other writers would result in some great romantic novel in the vein of Wuthering Heights.

A pop into the St Christopher's Place branch of Whistles produced quite a few of the latter. Sadly, lack of money and visions of my mother saying the word overdraft prevented me from purchasing any of the lovely things and we ended up mainly shopping for things for Mum.

She did, however, introduce me to the rather incredible sale at Fenwicks on Bond Street, which, as LibertyLondonGirl has pointed out before, is like no other Fenwicks in the world and now forms the crucial third member of my holy department store trinity (the other two being Liberty and John Lewis). I bought an exceedingly virginal looking white lace lingerie set by Elle Macpherson for less than a the cost of a bra elsewhere, which pleased JFK.

I also tried on this incredible slip by Stella McCartney. Possibly the most incredible piece of inner wear I have ever laid eyes on, it fit in all the right places, was the perfect colour and made me feel a million dollars. Sadly, the two hundred and something pounds price tag meant it may as well have actually cost a million dollars. But it now haunts my dreams...

(Clara Whispering Chemise in Blush via net-a-porter - not the best picture of this lovely delicate whisp of prettyness but ypu get the idea)

Mum, who isn't exactly the most fashion conscious woman in the world, but does that wonderful I-could-be-an-art-teacher-from-Hampstead look that only suits certain women really quite well when she wants to, said - "When I first heard about Stella McCartney moving into fashion I thought she was just using her celebrity name. Who knew she would actually have talent." Quite.

Almost back...

Some frankly weird things have been happening during my break from blogging...

Jimmy Choo announced a collaboration with Ugg, which when you actually think about it probably won't result in a product any more horrible than those already created by both companies.

V launched its curvy issue, including a shoot by he-of-the-fatty-hatred Karl Lagerfeld.

Many of my favourite blogs went suspiciously quiet.

Among the less surprising but more depressing events are Primark reporting a 19% profit increase; my birthday and the abject failure of my family to do anything about it; the delay in my pay which means I've been living off two weeks salary since December 4th and have done precisely zero sales shopping despite wanting many things like this and this and oh so many other things; Cristiano Ronaldo taking off his clothes to pose in tiny pants again.

Some good things have also happened - JFK bought me a lovely piece of Alex Monroe, making himself very poor and me rather happy. Three of my favourite people in the whole world were at my self-organised and quite subdued birthday drinks even though two of them are rarely even in London and one of those was actually supposed to be working that night. The birthday dinner that EDF trekked across a snowy London to cook for me which entirely made up for my family being rubbish. I found a vintage Pierre Balmain polka dot skirt suit for £15 in a charity shop and discovered truffle salami on the same day.

This evening I will be finishing off my Masters application, which I will be taking in person to the University via a two hour train journey tomorrow to meet the deadline. Cutting it fine I know. After that things should return to some semblance of normalcy around here... thank you for bearing with me and a special thank you to two of my favourite bloggers who commented on my absence. It's nice to be missed.

More London sample sales today!

Yes, I'm slow, but I've only just realised that there is also the Preen, Nicole Farhi, Ghost and Rainbow Wave sample sales today thanks largely to Urban Junkies who are really very good at this.
I'm in work til 6 so this will require some very careful planning if I'm actually going to make it to any of them. This evening is going to be crazy. 

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.

And for my London readers who don't need to save their money for Christmas presents...

Sample sale spectacular!!!

I went to the Valentino sale today. It was a bit different to the usual scrum - very quiet, very expensive and very popular with Russians apparently.  Absolutely nothing there I could afford aside from a carrier bag. No, really.

The above is the edited highlights of the sample sale extravaganza that is hitting London. There's also an Anya Hindmarch sale going on today, tomorrow and Saturday. You can register for it here.

A good sample sale always makes me feel a little hot under the collar. They're really exciting, even though I rarely actually buy anything. Just the suggestion of an amazing bargain is enough to make me feel a bit flustered. The sample sale is like the diet coke man in my world.

I am most excited about the Osman and Christopher Kane sales... Sad to be missing the Peter Jensen though. Can someone report back for me?

Dear New York readers...

I know you exist, I can see it in my web stats which I am becoming increasingly obsessed with as my readership builds. This post is for you.

When I saw this I nearly wept because the other side of the world is definitely too far to go for a mark-down.

Yes it's an Acne pre-sale at Acne Studio in New York. There's also one at Opening Ceremony in LA. Sigh. (For those who have not been following the story, I am currently consumed with lust for everything Acne related. No, not the skin condition, the clothing label. Yes, I know it's an unfortunate name, but have you seen those wedges? And the pearl collar t-shirt. And the amazing collection of little black dresses... ok, I'll stop now.)

This week has been pretty amazing for new readers. There's more than 100 of you. And this week I have had new readers from as far afield as Vancouver, Brisbane, Goa and that most glamorous of all locations in the world, Nottingham. Hello lovely new readers!

A new discovery - Seconda Mano, 114 Upper Street

For a compulsive charity shop fan, ebay shopper and jumble sale connoisseur like me, regular wardrobe clear outs are very important. Many of my friends have reason to be thankful for this, because usually I like giving things away to people I know will enjoy them rather than faff around on ebay.
But in the last couple of years, as my fashion knowledge has evolved, I have become far stricter with my shopping habits and I have also begun buying things to sell to help cover my costs. This can be quite hit and miss. Ebay is a pain in the backside and can be unpredictable - some gorgeous designer clothing won't even sell, let alone sell for what it's worth.
The easiest way to sell designer clothing is via clothing exchanges, but many in London don't exactly offer a fair deal. The worst culprit is the clothing exchange in Notting Hill where they will offer you £30 for something they will sell for more than £100. Which sucks. And they won't take anything they deem too 'classic' or by niche designers.
But, if you don't mind waiting for your money, there are some who will sell your unwanted designer clothing and accessories on your behalf with a 50/50 split.
My new favourite, Seconda Mano, is on Upper Street in North London. The shop itself is hidden away under a Giovanni's hairdressers at number 14, but the window is filled with incredible finds including a hot pink Chanel suit jacket and a brand new swoon-worthy Chanel Cocoon bag.

Downstairs is a virtual treasure trove of lovely things, today overseen by a nice man called Adam who gets almost as excited as I do about Christopher Kane.

I have just added some of my own pieces to their stock, including a vintage 70's emerald green satin YSL cummerbund, pale blue perspex Stella McCartney Belt and a pair of gorgeous black silk wide legged Jasmine Di Milo trousers which are sadly too short for me but will look spectacular on the right person.
This is my new place to sell on my best pieces. And might also have to be my new place to go to treat myself when the sample sales, garage sales and jumbles let me down.
One day when I have my own house and don't have to have such regular clear outs, I'd quite like it if my basement looked a little bit like Seconda Mano.

Oh, and did I mention the shoes...