A rather fabulous party - Skate at Somerset House hosted by Tiffany

Yes, I know I have been M I A, and I promise a proper apology and explanation is forthcoming in another post. But right now I am feeling all squiffy and happy thanks to Somerset House and Tiffany and think it would be much nicer to tell you all about that instead.

I's not often that I get invited to many glamorous parties through work - architecture journalism really isn't that swanky - but there have been a few exceptions recently. One of those was being given my editor's invitation for the Skate at Somerset House launch party, hosted tonight by Tiffany. I took one of my old war (graduate training scheme) buddies R, who enjoys a free glass of champagne and watching attractive but annoying well-bred men fall on their bums probably even more than I do.

The event was very... well, it was just very. As well as copious amounts of champagne, there was also apple and cinnamon cocktails, hot chocolate in the form of steaming hot cups of full fat milk and cream and a whole stick of solid chocolate to melt in it to your taste and, of course, mulled wine.

We watched Paloma Faith, clad in deep green floor length velvet coat with fur trim and matching hat, sing Santa Baby and one of her own songs (I think it was hers - it was about the advantages of dating much older men) and then turn on the lights on the Somerset House/Tiffany christmas tree, which to be honest was a bit of an anti climax - they were too tasteful to be really impressive. The tree was nice, just slightly overshadowed by the surreal goings on around it.  

We got stuck in to the canapes including tiny pots of soup with cheese sticks, pate on teeny tiny bits of toast, similarly small blinis, small copper bowls of yummy beef stew with horseradish mash, prawn and crayfish cocktail and miniature christmas puddings that were almost like truffles. 

Then we watched a rather mad, but very enjoyable, performance by a man in a lycra jesters suit who white-boy rapped over a mixture of classic swing and hip hop and watched Henry Holland, Sarah Beeney, Jamie Winstone and editor of Elle (and my idol) Lorraine Candy and her very cute little girl skating round and round in circles for a while.

Sadly, I was unprepared and didn't have my camera with me. My phone battery was also dying, but I did attempt to grab some snaps for you. 

The tree - adorned with Tiffany's decorations worth the price of a flat in west London according to Paloma Faith. I think she was joking but can't be sure...

A man dressed as a jester, rapping and scatting to a hip hop version of King of the Swingers from the Jungle Book. Seriously. I'm probably betraying my complete lack of cultural awareness by being unable to identify him, but he was actually quite good although I can see the novelty wearing off pretty fast.

Lorraine Candy. Honestly.

That's Henry Holland on the left there. Have we firmly established that I don't have a career as a paparazzo waiting for me if the journalism thing goes awry yet? Jolly good.

After a few glasses of champagne, we did attempt to skate ourselves. R was intent on accidentally on purpose crashing into a good looking (and rich looking) young man, but chickened out at the last minute. 

I don't think I've ever seen such a well-dressed crowd of skaters in my life. It was all picture postcard fluffy fur hats, shearling trims and cashmere scarves. So many women in so many beautiful coats! There were also some pretty tragic examples of plastic surgery addiction on display - no-one needs to have their lips that full, even if he fillers do act as insulation from the cold.

As we left we were handed a Tiffany's gift bag containing a box of notecards and envelopes. No jewellery unfortunately, but you can't have it all.

I wish I had more photos to show you that aren't just blue blurry messes, but I'm sure there will be plenty populating the pages of our illustrious tabloid press tomorrow morning for you to enjoy...

The night of amazing shoes

So last night I was invited to the launch of Saatchi's new book at the Saatchi Gallery, whicc would, of course, not be attended by Saatchi.
I don't get invited to such glamorous events very often, and in fact was EDF's plus 1. She was invited by her friend F, who apparently has the most incredible accessories collection in the whole world. EDF has been talking about her for ages, but you know how sometimes you have to meet someone to really understand why your friends have been going on about them so much? F was lovely and totally lived up to the hype. PLus she had on an Opening Ceremony dress, a huge Chanel ring that nearly made me cry with jealousy, a great studded black biker jacket, the ultimate Chanel flap bag and these amazing Miu Miu clogs...

In fact it was, generally, a night of amazing shoes. EDF spotted a few pairs of Proenza Schoulers while wearing her not new, but new to her, Chloe boots of love.

There was also some serious Burberry action, courtesy of C who works at Burberry HQ, and F's sister's gorgeous ankle boots.

Plus these rather lovely Russel and Bromley's, which belong to F and were busy crippling her firend who had to give in and take them off.

I drank rather too much chamapagne. The glasses were HUGE and it's impossible to keep track when they keep topping them up before you've had a chance to finish the first glass. I have been suffering for it today. Afterwards F and her entourage took us out for a very lovely dinner, before the sensible among us, which sadly included me, made our way home to bed. Everyone else stumbled off to Bungalow 8.

It was one of those evenings which suddenly make you realise that London can actually be pretty damn glamorous and fun every day if you hang out with the right people. And that those people aren't all vacuous and terrifying.

Two exciting events

Well, they're exciting if you are me. The first takes place this weekend at the Kilburn car boot sale in north west London. I shall be getting up in the wee small hours of Saturday morning (my inner teenager is reminding me that I used to actually stay up til that time in the morning on a fairly regular basis), loading up my cousins car with enough clothes to fully furnsih two other people's wardrobes and then flogging it all off at bargain prices.
Please do come along. There will be cakes if you get there early, and alcohol if we get cold and bored.
Kilburn car boot is actually where I get most of the super-cheap second hand designer loveliness that I so often talk about on this blog, and there are an awful lot of bargains to be had if you don't mind a rummage. It opens to the general public at 11am, costs a measly 50p to get in, and is actually more like two car boot sales as it is split between two sites, one on Quex Road and one on Kilburn Park Road.
Among my goodies are a vintage camera, a full length pitch black satin strapless evening gown with tiny buttons up the back, dresses, hats, scarves, a LOT of jewellery and a basket full of fabrics and other craft and sewing bits and pieces. Mention you read my blog and I'll give you a hefty discount too.
The second exciting event is one I have told you about before, but the invitation has actually arrived now. Yes, it's the Margaret Howell sample sale. Be still my beating heart.

See that bit at the bottom where it says 'credit cards accepted'? That's the really dangerous bit. Or it would be if I was silly enough to allow myself a credit card.

Anyway, myself and Layers&Swathes will probably be there after we finish our respective jobs on the Thursday and will be grabbing a coffeee somewhere afterwards. Come and say hi and show us the practical-but-lovely things you've bought that we wanted but couldn't afford.

New Year's Resolutions

I have actually managed to fulfill pretty much all the New Year's resolutions I made last New Year's. This is wrong. New Year's Resolutions are meant to be things you will actually never do, aren't they?

Let's be honest, New Year's resolutions should have become declassee by now. Haven't we all had enough of setting ourself challenges that will make us feel guilty or inadequate for the next 12 months? 

Apparantly not, if the diet pages in Grazia are anything to go by.

My list from last year was quite ambitious but not massively exciting - pass driving test, learn a foreign language, write more outside of work and other boring things. So this year I am going to make things more interesting.

Resolution 1/ Take a photography course - let's be honest, my pictures for this blog could do with a bit of work. Plus my dad has lent me a Canon EOS to play with and it would be nice to be able to take it off automatic and have something more than a colourful blur to show for my efforts.

Resolution 2/ Own some Chanel (see previous post)

Resolution 3/ Eat less - self explanatory but hardest to achieve

Resolution 4/ Meet more designers

Resolution 5/ Stop being intimidated by fashion parties and try to go to more of them

There are others, private ambitions that I won't share here because then I will just feel like an idiot if they don't come to fruition. 

The past year has had its ups and downs for all of us. But the fashion industry has had a particularly rocky year and, I think, is also in need of some serious resolutions that will help it move forward...

Resolution 1/ Please stop describing anyone over a UK size 6 as 'curvy'. It's insulting and alienates large numbers of women whose wardrobes could really benefit from some industry input. 

Resolution 2/ Take business classes. I don't think I need to list the number of companies that have gone under thanks to this recession, but some of these could really have been avoided with some proper business management. 

Resolution 3/ Move on from the 80s already.

PLease feel free to add you own in the comments box below. Hope you all have a lovely evening tonight and a very fruitful, satisfying and well-dressed New Year. 

Inside the Prada party

So, last night I found myself in the Prada shop on Old Bond Street standing at the side and pretending to look very interested in the book they were launching  because I didn't know anyone and hadn't had enough champagne to talk to the scary people.
Of course, after a couple of glasses of champagne it transpired that some of the scary people were actually nice people who would talk to me like a human being even though I was ostensibly there representing an architecture newspaper (my day job) and not technically a fashion person.

However I was very pleased to be the one who recognised Christopher Kane before the very nice girl from Grazia did, even though she managed to identify a Jagger spawnling that I wouldn't have recognised in a million years.

People I saw/recognised that might mean something to you but I didn't speak to because the pan fried scallops on a bed of black rice seemed like a more sensible option;
- Bianca Jagger (the other Jagger spawn I didn't recognise was a daughter of Jade Jagger - surely too young to be partying already?)
- Various fashion editors and writers
- Christopher Kane
- The doyenne of west London vintage shops Virginia Bates
- Brett from Suede (what does he even do these days that means he gets invited to nice parties?)
- Tolula Adeyemi, model du jour and possesor of the amazing two and a half thousand pounds fur shorts - so expensive it needed words instead of numerals - plus some incredible legs...

People I spoke to;
- Amy Molyneaux and her date Alistair who claimed to also be a non-fashion person but, being a dj, was rather taken with the music selection provided by a girl in a deep blue velvet dress and perfect inky black bob behind the shiny black decks upstairs. Amy was nice even though she didn't have to be because I was patently not anyone of any importance at all, but quickly moved off to talk to someone who was.
- Joanna from Purple PR who was really lovely and friendly and normal.
- Jess from Vogue.com who was wearing an amazing shade of lipstick by Mac which I'm fairly sure was called Impassioned. Or something like that.
- Ashleigh from Grazia who was pretty awesome.

What we drank;
Champagne
Pear cocktails in short tumblers

What we ate;
Pan fried scallops on black rice in a small matt black bowl (black is still the new black)
Smoked Salmon arranged in elegant rounds on tiny squares of bread
Medium rare grilled beef with horseradish dip
Chicken on a stick. No really, it was a bit of chicken on a little bamboo stick.
Little edible chocolate bowls with chocolate and orange mousse
Large profiteroles with a crunchy caramel disc on the top

Here's some general pics;

So there you go. It was actually really fun. I had three glasses of champagne, which as anyone who knows me will attest, is far more than enough to make me tipsy.

Trundling off to the very unglamorous tube home, I passed by the window dresser for Dolce & Gabbana putting the finsihing touches to their Chirstmas displays for the New Bond Street store...

Suffice to say the entire tube journey home was spent thinking about those shoes, the second entry on this year's pointless Christmas wish list. Got home in a merry haze and ate a rather large amount of these before hitting the hay...