Having finally recovered from the weekend, I have had some time to think properly about Vintage at Goodwood. I think that honestly its main problem was that it was overhyped, because I went expecting little and had a really good time while others went expecting a lot and came away dissapointed. A large portion of the blame for this probably lies with Goodwood's PR team - Freud - who have been less than corteous to number of bloggers and also went a bit overboard with the PR in the run up to the festival.
I know that quite a few of the peolpe involved with the event in its early days and even on the weekend itself are feeling a bit abused and disgruntled, but I can't really comment much on that as having been turned down for accreditation I went as a paying punter.
What I can say is that I doubt that they will have made any money and that, aside from the PRs, I was treated well by all of the organisers that I came into contact with.
I can also vouch for the fact that the festival obvioulsy had teething problems, although I can't think of any festival I've been to that hasn't. Yes, there were long queues in the morning for the toilets, of which there weren't enough, and showers and campsite changing rooms. But all of these were very well maintained, with the occasional blockages and water loss repaired relatively rapidly for this scale of event. And the very fact that there were proper flushing toilets with loo roll and soap, showers and changing rooms with lights, mirrors and plug sockets for hair appliances was really quite something. I'm more used to portaloos and washing my hair in a bucket. There weren't enough foodstalls of places to sit, again simple errors of judgement from inexperienced festival organisers.
Yes, there was mud. No one can control the weather. But far from being the quagmire we were expecting, the soil actually dried up pretty quickly and copiuos quantities of woodchip were deployed overnight to try and soak up the worst of it.
There has been a lot of criticism of the commercial nature of the event - that there was little there that was free to do, that it was focused very much on shopping and that there was too much fancy dress and not enough dedicated vinatge lifestyle stuff. I agree to a certain extent. But there was quite a bit to do with free workshops, fashion shows (although I must admit these were very oversubscribed and I didn't get to go to a single one), talks and events, they were just small and poorly advertised. The only progamme available was a large hard back annual for £12, which was both absurdly expensive and impractical.
The popularity of the music tents was underestimated while the popularity of the main stage headliners was overestimated. Large swathes of empty field around the outdoor stages were a stark contrast to the sprawling queues to get into the 1940s themed Tanquery Torch Lounge. Many people missed some of the best music and artists due to lack of space and the timing of the main acts was pretty awful. But we did see the wonderful Puppini Sisters, rock n roll punk bands, swing bands, burlesque and plenty of wonderful dancers. The curator of the Torch tent said that they hadn't expected it to be such a hit and that next time it would be much bigger.
The Chap Olympiad was a particular highlight. I know some people have pointed out that you could pay £15 to see that in London, but the truth is that many of the people who saw it at Goodwood have probably never heard of The Chap and were delighted by the discovery. The same can be said of the Twentieth Century Society, the Leigh Bowery seaside-style poke-you-head through photo gallery and the bevvy of friendly Lipstick and Curls girls. Little touches like a old-time shoeshine stand, tea tents and actors performing staged vignettes were also peppered around the site helping make it both fun and interesting.
But what really made the event a joy was the people. It was truly lovely to see men and women of all ages, shapes and sizes dressed up to the nines, as so many of them did. What's more, the mix between vintage lifestylers, dabblers and fancy dressers from all eras was actually quite refreshing.
Yes, I can see that for the ardent vintage lifestyler and all the car and scooter enthusiasts involved it may have not been ideal, but their presence was hugely appreciated by the rest of us. We all put in more effort and had a better time because of them and I hope that they return if there is another one. I also hope that the organisers recognise the value of having them there and smooth over some of the disputes and hurt feelings that have been talked about by other bloggers. I had a great time there, but with a bit more thought this festival could be quite amazing.
Boring review bit over, pictures in the next post...
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
The not-quite-£10 challenge - Vintage at Goodwood edition
Having returned exhausted from a weekend at Vintage at Goodwood and jumped straight back into work, my brain hasn't quite caught up with me enough to produce a proper review or even filter through the hundreds of photogrpahs that I took. For the moment lets just say that I had a really good time and was more than happy with my experience of the festival, although there were some obvious flaws with the organisation and planning of the whole event.
It seems to have really divided opinion among the blogging community, but thus far Susie Bubble's take on it is the one that comes closest to my own thoughts.
Another post with more pics and some proper opinions is forthcoming, but in the meantime here's a £10 challenge special.
I've always been a big fan of the land girl look so was more than happy to pull on a pair of wellies made necessary by the less-than-perfect weather. When I was younger I was a trifle obsessed with the 40s and early 50s. I loved the films, the dancing and, obviously, the clothes. I have dabbled a little with the more pursit side of things, taking swing dance lessons and attempting to wear authentic vintage outfits from head to toe, although this isn't quite possible with size 8 feet. But in every day life it's just not for me - I enjoy dabbnling with too many different things to ever commit to one era and there are days when the thought of putting on full make-up is just too much.
But the weekend was a lovely opportunity to dig out some of my favourite vintage pieces and mix them with some of my every-day pieces to create outfits I wouldn't usually feel confident, commited or comfortable enough to wear on the streets of London.
I have a confession to make though - this outfit comes to a little more than £10. I did put together something that came to less for the Sunday, but spectacularly failed to take any decent pictures of it. This dress, which is a little snug, was one of a big bundle that I shoved into a £20 bag at the first Angels warehouse sale last year and I can't remember how many things I had in the bag so I honestly can't tell you how much it cost, but it was almost certainly less than £5.
£10 challenge outfit;
1940's dress - maker unknown - Angels sale - less than £5
Cashmere cardigan - Max Mara - car boot sale - £3
Army cap (with badge removed) - ex-Soviet Army - Portobello market - £4
Sunglasses - Anne Klein - car boot sale - £3
Total - £15
Shoes;
Wellies - Dunlop - Kilburn Army Surplus store - £12
It seems to have really divided opinion among the blogging community, but thus far Susie Bubble's take on it is the one that comes closest to my own thoughts.
Another post with more pics and some proper opinions is forthcoming, but in the meantime here's a £10 challenge special.
I've always been a big fan of the land girl look so was more than happy to pull on a pair of wellies made necessary by the less-than-perfect weather. When I was younger I was a trifle obsessed with the 40s and early 50s. I loved the films, the dancing and, obviously, the clothes. I have dabbled a little with the more pursit side of things, taking swing dance lessons and attempting to wear authentic vintage outfits from head to toe, although this isn't quite possible with size 8 feet. But in every day life it's just not for me - I enjoy dabbnling with too many different things to ever commit to one era and there are days when the thought of putting on full make-up is just too much.
But the weekend was a lovely opportunity to dig out some of my favourite vintage pieces and mix them with some of my every-day pieces to create outfits I wouldn't usually feel confident, commited or comfortable enough to wear on the streets of London.
I have a confession to make though - this outfit comes to a little more than £10. I did put together something that came to less for the Sunday, but spectacularly failed to take any decent pictures of it. This dress, which is a little snug, was one of a big bundle that I shoved into a £20 bag at the first Angels warehouse sale last year and I can't remember how many things I had in the bag so I honestly can't tell you how much it cost, but it was almost certainly less than £5.
£10 challenge outfit;
1940's dress - maker unknown - Angels sale - less than £5
Cashmere cardigan - Max Mara - car boot sale - £3
Army cap (with badge removed) - ex-Soviet Army - Portobello market - £4
Sunglasses - Anne Klein - car boot sale - £3
Total - £15
Shoes;
Wellies - Dunlop - Kilburn Army Surplus store - £12
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
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.
postscript: I will probably be selling the dress on ebay, but will let you know when I get around to that.
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.
Friday, 6 August 2010
The double belt comission mission
"This outfit needs something a bit out there to ensure that people don’t mistake it for something someone who has opted out of fashion would end up in. But what? Statement necklaces are overdone. A jacket would look too trussed-up. A thin double belt would probably do the trick, but we didn’t have one to hand. And there’s a good reason for that: they’re hard to find, apart from Hermès’ £600 one." Lisa Armstrong in Saturday's Times on the perils of teaming classic trousers with a classic shirt... obviously not one of life's more serious issues, but then this is not one of the internet's more serious blogs.
I've already flagged up the dangers of the fashion classic appearing plain old boring. Armstrong's suggestion of a thin double belt is a rather good one, but they really are difficult to find.
Earlier this year I tried on my first double belt at a little boutique in Muswell Hill called Charli where my lovely friend Miss Laura Trouble works (you can also see her walking around the streets of London in the nude on MTV or youtube at the moment - I am in awe of her bravado).
The belt actually came with a hideously expensive silk shirt dress that was nice but nothing special. But that thin strip of burnt-caramel coloured leather that came with it turned it into one of the most desirable pieces in the shop. Suffice to say I couldn't have it, but it has been haunting my dreams ever since, in as much as a cured, dead bit of cow can.
There are a handful of double belts currently available to buy in your average outlets, although surpsingly few of them are any good. And they're exceedingly rare in the second-hand places I tend to haunt.
This one by Michael Kors is quite nice, but still pricey - $350 on the Saks website
These two, by French Connection (top, was £40 now £26) and ASOS (bottom, £15) and both available on the ASOS site, are just a bit too fussy
So I had one made just for me at the Stables Market in Camden, which was unexpectedly satisfying.
Moustys is a traditional style leatherworkers in the middle of the sprawl of the newly-refurbished Stables. I must confess that my brother was the first to discover them, for reasons we shall not go into here, but it is something of a find in London.
The friendly man who runs it will practically bend over backwards to help you and always has a smile despite being completely rushed off his feet with customers.
My request seemed rather tame compared to some of the more elaborate pieces he's been comissioned to make recently, including the wide dragon belts with glaring red eyes that feature on Moustys' website. He also regularly does wallets, bags and sword sheaths.
For me he made a camel coloured leather double belt with a plain square silver buckle and a silver loop at the back. He left it extra long at my behest so I can knot the end.
It's only been a few days, but the raw leather, much sturdier than the buttery soft versions you would get from a premium label, is already starting to break in and I plan to wear it for a very, very long time. And it was less than £30.
But perhaps the best thing about owning this particular belt was watching it being made. I walked up, asked for what I wanted, selected the skin and the belt was created in front of me using tools and methods that haven't changed much in hundreds of years. Far more satisfying than buying something ready made. Sadly, I could only afford to buy the one, but I can guarantee I will be returning for more one-off comissions at a later date...
I've already flagged up the dangers of the fashion classic appearing plain old boring. Armstrong's suggestion of a thin double belt is a rather good one, but they really are difficult to find.
Earlier this year I tried on my first double belt at a little boutique in Muswell Hill called Charli where my lovely friend Miss Laura Trouble works (you can also see her walking around the streets of London in the nude on MTV or youtube at the moment - I am in awe of her bravado).
The belt actually came with a hideously expensive silk shirt dress that was nice but nothing special. But that thin strip of burnt-caramel coloured leather that came with it turned it into one of the most desirable pieces in the shop. Suffice to say I couldn't have it, but it has been haunting my dreams ever since, in as much as a cured, dead bit of cow can.
There are a handful of double belts currently available to buy in your average outlets, although surpsingly few of them are any good. And they're exceedingly rare in the second-hand places I tend to haunt.
This one by Michael Kors is quite nice, but still pricey - $350 on the Saks website
These two, by French Connection (top, was £40 now £26) and ASOS (bottom, £15) and both available on the ASOS site, are just a bit too fussy
So I had one made just for me at the Stables Market in Camden, which was unexpectedly satisfying.
Moustys is a traditional style leatherworkers in the middle of the sprawl of the newly-refurbished Stables. I must confess that my brother was the first to discover them, for reasons we shall not go into here, but it is something of a find in London.
The friendly man who runs it will practically bend over backwards to help you and always has a smile despite being completely rushed off his feet with customers.
My request seemed rather tame compared to some of the more elaborate pieces he's been comissioned to make recently, including the wide dragon belts with glaring red eyes that feature on Moustys' website. He also regularly does wallets, bags and sword sheaths.
For me he made a camel coloured leather double belt with a plain square silver buckle and a silver loop at the back. He left it extra long at my behest so I can knot the end.
It's only been a few days, but the raw leather, much sturdier than the buttery soft versions you would get from a premium label, is already starting to break in and I plan to wear it for a very, very long time. And it was less than £30.
But perhaps the best thing about owning this particular belt was watching it being made. I walked up, asked for what I wanted, selected the skin and the belt was created in front of me using tools and methods that haven't changed much in hundreds of years. Far more satisfying than buying something ready made. Sadly, I could only afford to buy the one, but I can guarantee I will be returning for more one-off comissions at a later date...
(Wown with Margaret Howell skirt and T shirt at the office at an ungodly hour)
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
One to watch: CLaer
I know it's still summer, and therefore realistically far too early to be championing a knit-wear brand that specialises in cashmere, that most glorious of warm fabrics. But the magazines are all trumpeting on about how to get the next season's look and outside it is decidedly grey and rainy, so I feel vindicated.
CLaer isn't a typo, it's just another silly label name. But despite it's slightly odd branding (seriously, the twirly wirly typefce they're using isjust not right) CLaer's clothing is serious stuff. After all you don't get much more serious than a knitwear purist who used to be in charge of all things woolen at arch minimalist Jil Sander.
The label's name comes from that of its founder, Hamburg based designer Claudia Laermann, who was creative head anf designer for Jil Sander's knit and jersey collections for 18 years beofre launching her own line in 2009.
On her website, Laermann refers to Cashmere and Marino wool as "noble fibres" that "caress the body" and "contribute to the feel good attitutde of the wearer", which is rather nice.
She also talks about "feminine coolness" which seems like a rather euphemistic phrase better suited to one of those breezy advert about feminine care, but no matter. What's important here is the clothes, and this is cashmere as it's meant to be - stupidly expensive but versatile and covetable and hard to get hold of.
Most of the new collection, which includes a gorgeous fine knit cape and some very, very chuncky cable knits, woudl sit very happily alongside the key autumn winter pieces from Prada, Celine and Chloe, which judging by the September issues of all the fashion magazines, are what we should be wearing at the moment.
But, even I was financially healthy, I'd quite happily not spend all that money on any of those collections, and just buy one piece from CLaer.
Although even the promise of the rarest fibres harvested by hand from wild goats and tiny baby rabbits and then rolled into wool on the thighs of Christina Hendricks in a process overseen by the ghost of Chanel with assitance from Karl Lagerfeld would never get me into an Alpaca playsuit.
CLaer isn't a typo, it's just another silly label name. But despite it's slightly odd branding (seriously, the twirly wirly typefce they're using isjust not right) CLaer's clothing is serious stuff. After all you don't get much more serious than a knitwear purist who used to be in charge of all things woolen at arch minimalist Jil Sander.
The label's name comes from that of its founder, Hamburg based designer Claudia Laermann, who was creative head anf designer for Jil Sander's knit and jersey collections for 18 years beofre launching her own line in 2009.
On her website, Laermann refers to Cashmere and Marino wool as "noble fibres" that "caress the body" and "contribute to the feel good attitutde of the wearer", which is rather nice.
She also talks about "feminine coolness" which seems like a rather euphemistic phrase better suited to one of those breezy advert about feminine care, but no matter. What's important here is the clothes, and this is cashmere as it's meant to be - stupidly expensive but versatile and covetable and hard to get hold of.
Most of the new collection, which includes a gorgeous fine knit cape and some very, very chuncky cable knits, woudl sit very happily alongside the key autumn winter pieces from Prada, Celine and Chloe, which judging by the September issues of all the fashion magazines, are what we should be wearing at the moment.
But, even I was financially healthy, I'd quite happily not spend all that money on any of those collections, and just buy one piece from CLaer.
Although even the promise of the rarest fibres harvested by hand from wild goats and tiny baby rabbits and then rolled into wool on the thighs of Christina Hendricks in a process overseen by the ghost of Chanel with assitance from Karl Lagerfeld would never get me into an Alpaca playsuit.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
The £10 challenge - classics
Welcome friends to the first £10 challenge in which we will look at the fashion 'classic'.
Classic is a much touted word at the moment - fashion editors are practically wetting themselves over it. Why? Well, they'll say that it's because, finally, designers are making clothes that real women actually want to wear again. Beautifully simple, well cut clothes in quality fabrics that make you sigh a little bit and don't have to be kept for special occasions. They'll cite Celine and Chloe at you til they're blue in the face. But don't be fooled, the fashion classic look is just as difficult to master as all the more outre looks that have pounded down the catwalk over the last ten years. The main problem being that it's very easy to just look really, really boring.
And yes, it is quite a lot like 90s minimalism, although the fabrics are a bit nicer and the cuts are a bit more forgiving.
However, there is one major advantage to the revival of classic style. You probably already have the foundations in your wardrobe. And if you don't it's not too difficult to find a classic buried under a mountain of old tat at the car boot sale or at the back of a rail in a charity shop.
Mostly, all this stuff about classic clothes means that I'm allowed to get stupidly excited over this skirt, which is essentially just a large, rectangular, black woolen tube that folds over on itself. That fold is quite important, because classics have to have something that stops them from being boring and makes them a bit, and I hate to use this word, 'edgy'.
It's also the perfect length for the new season - also known as a difficult, slightly below the knee and generally rather unflattering unless worn with quite high heels length - and is by Nicole Farhi.
It was missing a belt when I bought it, and the belt is what actually holds the whole thing together and makes it into a skirt that sits high on the waist with a paper bag top instead of a weird circle of fabric in a pool around your feet. From my point of view the missing belt was a very good thing because it meant I only paid £2.50 for it at a car boot sale this weekend. And I love it.
I'm going to wear it in future with my new camel coloured thick leather double length belt, which I had made only today and which will feature in a forthcoming post. But here it's tied together with a chiffon tie appropriated from a tea dress.
£10 challenge outfit;
Sunglasses - Anne Klein - car boot sale - £3
Top - Uniqlo - car boot sale - £1
Skirt - Nicole Farhi - car boot sale - £2.50
Watch - Lorus - car boot sale - £3
Necklace and ring - Alex Monroe - gifts from JFK (quite a while ago now. I think I'm due another.)
Total - £9.50
Shoes;
You can't see them here, but I'm also wearing a pair of exceedingly beautiful and exceedingly uncomfortable black Vivienne Westwood for Melissa plastic peep toes. If you remember, shoes are generally not included in the £10 challenge because it's hard to find second hand shoes in my size. These ones were reduced to £35 though, which merits a mention I feel.
This is the first time I have ever attempted to take a self portrait, so apologies for the rubbishness of the photo. Hopefully, I'll get better at this. I hate almost every photo of me which doesn't help either as it meant I ended up taking an awful lot of pictures where I just look intensely uncomfortable. I also noticed, looking back through them, that my legs are a completely different colour to the rest of me and have now gone out and bought some of that Johnson's gradual tan stuff for pale skin to try and correct this.
Classic is a much touted word at the moment - fashion editors are practically wetting themselves over it. Why? Well, they'll say that it's because, finally, designers are making clothes that real women actually want to wear again. Beautifully simple, well cut clothes in quality fabrics that make you sigh a little bit and don't have to be kept for special occasions. They'll cite Celine and Chloe at you til they're blue in the face. But don't be fooled, the fashion classic look is just as difficult to master as all the more outre looks that have pounded down the catwalk over the last ten years. The main problem being that it's very easy to just look really, really boring.
And yes, it is quite a lot like 90s minimalism, although the fabrics are a bit nicer and the cuts are a bit more forgiving.
However, there is one major advantage to the revival of classic style. You probably already have the foundations in your wardrobe. And if you don't it's not too difficult to find a classic buried under a mountain of old tat at the car boot sale or at the back of a rail in a charity shop.
Mostly, all this stuff about classic clothes means that I'm allowed to get stupidly excited over this skirt, which is essentially just a large, rectangular, black woolen tube that folds over on itself. That fold is quite important, because classics have to have something that stops them from being boring and makes them a bit, and I hate to use this word, 'edgy'.
It's also the perfect length for the new season - also known as a difficult, slightly below the knee and generally rather unflattering unless worn with quite high heels length - and is by Nicole Farhi.
It was missing a belt when I bought it, and the belt is what actually holds the whole thing together and makes it into a skirt that sits high on the waist with a paper bag top instead of a weird circle of fabric in a pool around your feet. From my point of view the missing belt was a very good thing because it meant I only paid £2.50 for it at a car boot sale this weekend. And I love it.
I'm going to wear it in future with my new camel coloured thick leather double length belt, which I had made only today and which will feature in a forthcoming post. But here it's tied together with a chiffon tie appropriated from a tea dress.
£10 challenge outfit;
Sunglasses - Anne Klein - car boot sale - £3
Top - Uniqlo - car boot sale - £1
Skirt - Nicole Farhi - car boot sale - £2.50
Watch - Lorus - car boot sale - £3
Necklace and ring - Alex Monroe - gifts from JFK (quite a while ago now. I think I'm due another.)
Total - £9.50
Shoes;
You can't see them here, but I'm also wearing a pair of exceedingly beautiful and exceedingly uncomfortable black Vivienne Westwood for Melissa plastic peep toes. If you remember, shoes are generally not included in the £10 challenge because it's hard to find second hand shoes in my size. These ones were reduced to £35 though, which merits a mention I feel.
This is the first time I have ever attempted to take a self portrait, so apologies for the rubbishness of the photo. Hopefully, I'll get better at this. I hate almost every photo of me which doesn't help either as it meant I ended up taking an awful lot of pictures where I just look intensely uncomfortable. I also noticed, looking back through them, that my legs are a completely different colour to the rest of me and have now gone out and bought some of that Johnson's gradual tan stuff for pale skin to try and correct this.
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Guest starring Belgian Waffle and David Mitchell
Tonight I went to see something called Tall Tales at The Good Ship in Kilburn. The Good Ship harbours all sorts of memories for me, some awesome and some a little more uncomfortable, but it's a decent enough venue for an hour of hilarious story telling.
The readers were all brilliant - I haven't laughed so much for such a sustained period for a long time - and I heartily recommend you attend the next one which is apparently some time in September.
I went, I saw, I didn't exactly conquer, but I did summon up the courage to talk to four real life people who I had never met before. One of them was the very lovely Belgian Waffle, sort of my blog idol, who was incredibly gracious and friendly - despite my irritating social awkwardness which was made even worse by lack of alcohol which I'm not supposed to be drinking much at the moment. Honestly, sometimes I am so awkward it's amazing I have any friends let alone a moderately good career as a journalist. We're supposed to talk to people, put them at ease and get them to tell us their stories, but I'm much better at this on the phone I think. Or in emails.
I am trying to get better.
I also spoke to David Mitchell. In fact I sat next to him for the entire evening and spoke about seven words to him, but still. Is there anything as intimidating as sitting next to someone who is funnier and more successful than you and not knowing if you should talk to them? I tend to end up feeling that I'm sort of in the film about myself and I'm an awful female version of Woody Allen. I'm fine if there's someone else with me, but my bravado evaporates when I'm on my own unless I'm already feeling pretty bullish about life.
The walk home was also slightly strange and oddly entertaining. Walking up Kilburn High Road I was aggressively chirpsed. I'm not sure many people know what a "chirps" is, but my little cousin once patiently explained that it is fairly common slang for when a man tries to chat you up and get your phone number in the street. Quite often in Kilburn said man will either be standing outside a chicken cottage or a kebab shop looking like he's used the cold left-over by-products of fast food manufacture as both hair pomade and moisturiser. Or like he'd like to carry a gun and use his gangsta name to impress the ladeez, but lacks the sense of commitment this would take and probably raps about living the 'street life' in the NW6 ghetto while working on the tills at Pound Land and attempting to flog homemade CDs to pretty girls outside Marks & Spencers or WHSmith instead - still a little misguided but a much better approach to life in my opinion.
I'm not a huge fan of being chirpsed at the best of times, but having someone who is both faintly swarthy and exceedingly greasy follow you, even if it's only for a minute, making increasingly foul mouthed attempts to chat you up is both absurdly funny and also quite uncomfortable. I it's essentially harmless and I am used to it, but sometimes you really just wish they'd keep their thoughts to themselves.
Then, walking down from Kilburn towards Queen's Park, the transition from scummy to posh was perfectly marked by the dulcet tones of a jazz-lite cover of Procol Harum's Whiter Shade of Pale being played by one man and a piano in the expensive organic restaurant. I giggled the whole of the rest of the way home.
The readers were all brilliant - I haven't laughed so much for such a sustained period for a long time - and I heartily recommend you attend the next one which is apparently some time in September.
I went, I saw, I didn't exactly conquer, but I did summon up the courage to talk to four real life people who I had never met before. One of them was the very lovely Belgian Waffle, sort of my blog idol, who was incredibly gracious and friendly - despite my irritating social awkwardness which was made even worse by lack of alcohol which I'm not supposed to be drinking much at the moment. Honestly, sometimes I am so awkward it's amazing I have any friends let alone a moderately good career as a journalist. We're supposed to talk to people, put them at ease and get them to tell us their stories, but I'm much better at this on the phone I think. Or in emails.
I am trying to get better.
I also spoke to David Mitchell. In fact I sat next to him for the entire evening and spoke about seven words to him, but still. Is there anything as intimidating as sitting next to someone who is funnier and more successful than you and not knowing if you should talk to them? I tend to end up feeling that I'm sort of in the film about myself and I'm an awful female version of Woody Allen. I'm fine if there's someone else with me, but my bravado evaporates when I'm on my own unless I'm already feeling pretty bullish about life.
The walk home was also slightly strange and oddly entertaining. Walking up Kilburn High Road I was aggressively chirpsed. I'm not sure many people know what a "chirps" is, but my little cousin once patiently explained that it is fairly common slang for when a man tries to chat you up and get your phone number in the street. Quite often in Kilburn said man will either be standing outside a chicken cottage or a kebab shop looking like he's used the cold left-over by-products of fast food manufacture as both hair pomade and moisturiser. Or like he'd like to carry a gun and use his gangsta name to impress the ladeez, but lacks the sense of commitment this would take and probably raps about living the 'street life' in the NW6 ghetto while working on the tills at Pound Land and attempting to flog homemade CDs to pretty girls outside Marks & Spencers or WHSmith instead - still a little misguided but a much better approach to life in my opinion.
I'm not a huge fan of being chirpsed at the best of times, but having someone who is both faintly swarthy and exceedingly greasy follow you, even if it's only for a minute, making increasingly foul mouthed attempts to chat you up is both absurdly funny and also quite uncomfortable. I it's essentially harmless and I am used to it, but sometimes you really just wish they'd keep their thoughts to themselves.
Then, walking down from Kilburn towards Queen's Park, the transition from scummy to posh was perfectly marked by the dulcet tones of a jazz-lite cover of Procol Harum's Whiter Shade of Pale being played by one man and a piano in the expensive organic restaurant. I giggled the whole of the rest of the way home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)