Some things just need to be said

We are all guilty. I think I suffer from a kind of keyboard specific dyspraxia as well. 
This and other charming letterpress prints (I psrticularly enjoyed the one from the Trekkies to the Twilight fans and the stationery/stationary canvas bag) available from Sapling Press on Etsy

The Margaret Howell Sample Sale March/April 2011

I am not going to offer a lengthy explanation for my prolonged absence from this blog. All I will say is that I got a new, very demanding full-time job as a web editor (a real, proper editor which is a terribly grown up thing to be) and there was also some other stuff taking up all my spare brain space. Mostly I was spending my alone time in the evenings watching the same episodes of Family Guy over and over again because everything else felt like too much effort.
I didn't have the energy or inclination to spend hours reading pointless, repetitive articles on the fashion industry or reports on the latest fashion shows, most of which were boring anyway, and the blog began to feel like a weight around my neck rather than something satisfying and fun.
It's not as bad as it sounds, I promsie, I am just preternaturally lazy and couldn't handle being so busy. 
So anyway, now I am back. But not fully. I don't want this blog to feel like a burden again, so don't expect any consistancy in the posting regime. And it probably won't just be about clothes anymore, although I'm making no promises.
In the meantime, though, here's a gift from me to you - the Maragaret Howell sample sale invitation. This has become pretty much the only regular sample sale I frequent. It's not full of amazing bargains, but it is good for seriously useful things for your wardrobe that also make you feel like you've treated yourself.

How to dress for a protest

My family have always been politically minded, from my grandparents right-leaning zionist generation, to my parents CND/anti-apartheid/anti-nazi campaigning, right through to my own light dabblings in socialist ideology (very short-lived).
I've been going to protests since I was tiny, strapped onto my dad's back in a brown corduroy sling or holding mum's hand dressed in Osh Kosh dungarees, so it was lovely to see so many families with young kids at the protest in London on March 26.
However, protesting seems to have become more risky as police tactics have changed. When I was little it seemed like the police were there to protect us from any violence, so when a group of skin heads started throwing rocks at us on an Anti-Nazi league March they were swiftly dealt with and we carried on in peace. Perhaps as a child I was sheltered from any other nastiness, certainly old-school protestors I later met while working for another anti-racism organisation would suggest so. But these days the police are the people I am scared of. Not because they are bad people - but because I am terrified of being kettled. Kettling escalates an angry mood and catches innocent peaceful protestors up in the aggravated swirl of masked teenagers looking to cause damage and antagonise the police into doing something stupid. Being held for an indefinite amount of time is scary and also I don't like peeing in public.

Thus, my mother and I have, over the past few years, been considering a new sartorial approach to protest that we thought would help us avoid any trouble. On Saturday, we put it to the test. No more dungarees, definitely no corduroy (not that I have considered either of these a sensible choice for clothing since an unfortunate lilac denim-cut-off dungarees moment when I was 13) - no face paint, no jeans, no slogan t-shirts of any sort. In fact any clothes that make you look like you might possibly be a protestor are banned unless they can be easily removed and compacted into a handbag or covered with a shawl.
And thus it was that I went along to the cuts protest in polka dot high heels, matching red lipstick, an APC coat and a satin YSL pencil skirt (ebay's finest).

(taken by my mum in nice hotel toilets in Mayfair, five minutes after leaving the protest route)

No-one was anything but polite to me. One woman stopped me and said she admired my commitment, coming on a march in heels. A masked teenager, fresh from smashing the windows at Lloyds, actually stopped and apologised for crashing into me as he ran towards the Ritz. A riot policeman told me under his breath exactly what the next police move was going to be so that I could get out of the way and not get crushed. In fact every policeman either of us spoke to was nothing but friendly, helpful and polite despite the abuse being hurled at many of them. We even managed to walk straight off the march into a very nice hotel to use the loo without anyone batting an eyelid.
After five hours the heels did start to hurt a little. But I still managed to run with the riot police as they poured onto Piccadilly from Old Bond Street and take some decent pictures, although I had to hitch the pencil skirt up above my knees to keep up.

Yes, some people would say that there is an ideological conflict in wearing designer clothing to an anti-cuts protest (even if the entire outfit actually cost me under £50). Those are probably the same people who thought smashing the windows of the Ritz was a good idea. But I think their point is moot. The middle classes - a number of whom would take a trip to Fortnum and Masons for birthday ice creams or Christmas presents, or the Ritz for tea for Grandma's birthday, and who are collectively the biggest consumer group for fashion in the UK - are seriously affected by these cuts. Almost all of them rely in some way on a state-funded service, be it the NHS, state schooling, libraries, sport centres, child care or benefits. Very few of them have the money to pay off their children's university debts, let alone the new fees. Yes, this may seem trivial compared to the loss of a disability allowance or a newly-jobless single mother with no support (although being disabled or a single mother doesn't make you automatically working class or poor despite what some newspapers seem to think), but the point is that these cuts affect almost everyone. And even the more comfortable and straight-laced members of the middle classes are angry. They're just a bit too nice to throw eggs full of paint at the Royal Academy. For now.

Some other outfits from the protest:

And my favourite message of the day:

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...

Objects of desire: Stine Goya

Printed dresses don't often appeal to me - they tend to shout too loudly. A bold printed dress can only be worn a handful of times because it's usually just too memorable. It's too much of a commitment being the girl in that dress. But every now and then you see something that just makes you melt a little bit inside. Browsing the internet I stumbled across this rather lovely example by Danish designer Stine Goya.

Stine Goya - Moonprint dress - £264 - ninaandlola.com

Look you can even tuck it into a pair of high waisted trouser (although this would only work if you were terribly skinny I fear). And now I want it very, very badly but given I had to bid a sad farewell to the beautiful scoop neck, perfectly soft, triple ply cashmere coat/cardigan at the Tse sample sale last night, there's no way I can afford this, especially in cost-per-wear terms. 

Ever the glutton for punishment of course I had to go and visit Stine Goya's site to see what else was on offer this season and found the perfect bag.

Thunder bag - Stine Goya - 2000 DKK (approx. £235) - stinegoya.com 

Sigh.

Cashmere glorious cashmere - Uniqlo jumpers and the Tse sample sale

 This season's Tse collection - but last season's was good too

The nights are getting longer and colder and it feels like we've actually skipped autumn and headed straight into winter. But the change in seasons has its compensations and of course one of those is glorious, soft, warm cashmere and lots of it. Or at least I wish I had lots of it.
If, like me, you can never have enough cashmere (and I really can't on my budget) but you have more than a little (but not masses) of cash to spare and the time and inclination you should definitely hot foot it down to the Tse sample sale on October 27, 28 and 29 at the Camden Town Hall where the cashmere brand is offering up to 80% off its main, mens and diffusion lines. I'll be there late after work to mop up any remaining dregs from the bargain rail.

Tse, Tse Men and tsesay Sample sale

October 27(11 am to 8pm), 28 and 29 (10am to 8pm)

The Camden Centre

Bidborough Street

London WC1H 9AU

enquiries - 020 3227 1046 ext 0

nearest tube: Kings Cross

Otherwise may I recommend investing in a men's cashmere jumper from Uniqlo? They come in a vast range of colours and the knit is fine enough for you to tuck into a high waisted skirt or layer up in. They're cheap enough - although not so spectacularly as to make you severely doubt the quality of the wool - to just slouch about in too. They look great under a blazer and over a shirt with a sharp collar or tucked in to a pretty skirt and the cardigans are oversized enough to be thrown over the shoulders and not instantly fall off again. And I can't think of anything more comforting to wear underneath a duffle coat on bonfire night...

Cashmere v-neck cardigan in 32 Beige - Uniqlo - £129.99

Pure cashmere crew neck sweater in 03 grey - Uniqlo - £89.99

Or if you prefer something more fitted the latest Velvet and Uniqlo collaboration should be able to offer something more to your taste.

The £10 challenge - zebra/tiger print

I think it's fair to say that I'm fairly unlikely to ever wear these outside of my house. Or in fact ever again. But they do illustrate a point - some things just don't work when they're done on the high street. Slightly shiny zebra or tiger (depending on the background colour - these are a caramel colour so probably tiger and marginally more forgiving than the monochrome version) print peg legs are never going to look great really, unless you are very tall, quite thin or so brave that we all admire your tenacity and ignore the fact that it looks like you are wearing flammable pyjama bottoms.

Personally, I think even if these were pure silk and worth enough to put down a deposit on a small house, they still wouldn't be for me. Me and prints don't generally gel, let alone an animal print that also looks a little bit like an exaggerated wood grain. I can see that on someone else they could possibly look amazing.

However they do give me an excuse to show off my new shoe purchase - the Pierre Hardy for Gap wedges with which I am desperately in love. This morning I was wearing them to potter around the house in while still in my actual pyjamas (more grey marl than animal print) and every time I take them off I catch myself stroking them absent mindedly. I haven't felt this way about a pair of shoes in a long time. Inevitably JFK will hate them because they are wedges and men tend to dislike wedges, and the minute he says something they will lose a little of their lustre. I must admit I used to be a wedge hater, but now I have seen the light - as long as they are very high and not strappy sandals. Whoever said wedges were easier to walk in though hadn't met London pavements. Especially those special textured paving slabs that are meant to warn the visually impaired about road crossings but also serve as a mini obstacle course to any wedge wearer.

£10 challenge outfit;

Jumper - Mango -  car boot sale - £1.50

Trousers - Wallis - car boot sale - £3

Vest - Uniqlo - car boot sale - £1

Total - £5.50

Shoes;

Pierre Hardy Design Editions - Gap - £89.50