Friday, May 27, 2011


The illustrious Lucy and I strolled along to a Cabaret show the other day at Madam JoJos in Soho. Not before drinking vino in Soho Square out of paper coffee cups begged from Costas, of course. We be classy broads.

This is what I wore, for you folks watching at home:
Zara shirt, Vintage leopard skirt from Paris, mon cousin's G Star Boots.

And oh my lordy, cabaret is fun! It was so saucy and seated in this underground red velvet room, crammed full of chairs and tables and guttering candles, and soft cushions, it really felt like it captured some of that 1920s-playing-card-in-the-chest-pocket-of-a-war-hero-vibe. 
If you'd asked me my opinion of nipple tassles before, you probs would have gotten a sketchy raised eyebrow. 
Now? Probs to ya, lady. You got it going on.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

I have prowled my little flat, and trawled my stash of internets. I've snacked on yoghurt, and firmly put the crisps back in the cupboard unopened. The flowers sitting beside me are cloying, their water cloudy as they live and decay at the same time. Traffic is unending, and a British summer twilight is dragging out into the yellowing darkness of city lights and smog. My laptop is on 24% battery, and going to get the cord is annoying. I want to make tea, but really I want wine. Wine to unfold into myself a pleasant haze. But I don't. Impulses are like smudgy snails tonight, poking out slowly with suggestions of occupation and food, but not moving fast enough to take.

Perhaps it is the artificial quiet inside the flat, my headless reflection in the window in front of me, that makes me wonder if I've said anything at all spontaneous today.

It was my birthday yesterday, and I think that it is making me wonder whether I am living the life I should be living, or the one just next door to it. While I sit here with the flowers that live and die at the same time.


Gorgeous, no? Found via Dolce Vita.

Thursday, May 12, 2011


Just a little bit of wisdom from this great big heartbreaking and exhilarating city. x

Sunday, May 8, 2011


It's a cloudy Saturday, but kinda muggy and hot (man I am turning British, starting every conversation with the weather). I've just gotten back from the gym, and this is an enigmatic representation of my face:

Enigmatic being an entirely unnecessary word in this case.

In other, infinitely more interesting offerings from the internetz, this is way cute:

Thanks Paul for tweetin' such a damn cute thing.

Do you remember your first kiss? Mine was spin the bottle (ergh, vomit, cliche), one Saturday afternoon hiding with a group of kids in a bedroom while our parents had coffee in the next room. Thrilling huh? My main recollections of the probably three-second-experience go something like this:

'Oh-God-do-I-have-to? Ahhh-his-face-is-so-close. Am-I-supposed-to-shut-my-eyes? What-if-I-miss-his-face? Don't-miss! Lips-ok-ew-wet! EW! Tongue! Ok-enough. Gross. Weird. Ok. I survived.' 

Weird. And wet. Two inexperienced tongues, and very soft lips. Also, there was one boy in the room that I really really really (and seriously, add another 'really' in there. We were 12. Boy germs were a very real thing) did not want to kiss, so I spent most of the time stressing out about coming up with reasons to quit the game if my spin should land on him. Or his spin land on me. So I didn't really dwell on the moments as they were happening. You'll be relieved to know that I did escape dreaded germboy - pretty sure we got busted by parentals. 

But it did get me thinking about first kisses... do you know, I don't think I've ever had a first kiss sober? All my first kisses have been when I was drunkittydrunkdrunkdrunk. So any possible stomach churning could be put down to nerves, yes, or the seven vodka tonics slushing around my empty stomach. I'm actually properly sad that I haven't had a first sober kiss, I feel like I'm missing out on the build ups, the nerves, the anticipation. Actually, maybe no one has sober first kisses, because teens and adults cover nerves and anticipation in sweet sweet alcoholic nectar, tiding us over into that cooler, flirtier, probably slightly less classy version of ourselves. I'd settle for tipsy though. Just something less than the blind drunk that often leads to bad decisions, and the way both regret and hilarious stories can be covered with the 'I was just so drunk' comforter. Just enough liquid courage to look someone in the eye and know that I really really really want nothing more than to kiss them in that instant, as a choice, and not just something that oops-happened-ha-ha-ha-ha-shit-woops-oh-well.

Anyway, that's a rather self-indulgent tangent from a clip of two little cuties who know how to get a reaction out of their parents. 

And for the record, I have also had many lovely, non-drunk, amazing kisses (TMI? Sorry? Scroll back up and look at the tomato).

Friday, May 6, 2011

More Royal Wedding

Anyone who knows me on Twitter, or In Real Life, knows how excited I was about the Royal Wedding. I’m a sucker for all things England. Except for sports that is. Putting that as a definite disclaimer. And not because I’m patriotically Australian (which I am, don’t get me wrong), but because I don’t really do sports. Anyhooooo, back to my love of the motherland. Example: When I first got here I thought I was wandering around in a Tennyson poem, and could barely get past the Thames without having an Anne of Green Gables’ rendition of The Lady of Shalllot whispering away in my imagination, and half expecting a clanking man of iron to stroll through the woods towards me. So a whole day to celebrate English-ness? Phew!
And to all the haterz out there - What’s not to love about a day off, street parties, scones, champagne, and bunting? Especially bunting! I also think Wills is a major babe, but that’s beside the point (not really, it is the point. And here's the evidence).

Trying to figure out what to do on The Day was like planning NYE celebrations, but catering for an entire day and night. I wanted to watch the procession, be at a street party, dance around Hyde Park, be in front of Buckingham Palace for the kiss, and then go out to a few clubs in the evening. 

In the end, I had such an awesome weekend. I wore a dress that should only ever be termed a frock, and a lovely one at that (found at Rag & Bow vintage .More pics here.

I baked up a storm on Thursday night, completely covering the kitchen in flour, while making scones and brownies. Bizarrely I seem to be getting worse at cooking the more I do it. My scones were flat (nowhere near as towering and lofty as I remember my grandmother’s to be), and my brownies too sticky. But I can guarantee that they still tasted good. I met the lovely Lucy and Charlie at Hyde Park for peach champagne, coronation chicken pies and sausage rolls, and aforementioned scones. 
We gushed and aaawed, and called the Queen an old duck, in the most affectionate words possible. The atmosphere was … lovely. It wasn’t riotous, it wasn’t boisterous (can you tell I’m comparing impressions to large scale Australian events). It was just happy. There were families with little kids in crowns.

There were teenagers hanging out with their parents. There were groups of guys in suits, and groups of guys in shorts. There were girls in wedding dresses, and pretty dresses, and girls in jeans. Trust me, it did get boisterous later, but during the ceremony, I really loved seeing how people were appreciating that aside from all the pomp and hoohah, they were witnessing a wedding of two incredibly normal (considering the circumstances) and mature people.

In fact, my Notes thingy in my iphone has this decidedly drunken gushing ramble about the whole thing (edited to remove a mention of Robert Pattinson which I don’t quite get, and a whole bunch of typos)*:
‘It’s that with all the money and the power to break with tradition (which I believe they have even though they are royals) they still chose to swear to each other, with 300 of their closest friends and 2 billion other people, that they would honour each other before all others.’ 

Sandi Siegler wrote a brilliant bit on marriage, and why she chose to do it over here in her blog, and it's something that stuck with me:

"My point is, that for us, marriage only added to something already great and made it even better. And how or why that happened is something beyond a survey questionnaire or a logistical explanation – something shifted, slowly, and changed, slightly. Something about the way that we feel and the bond that we have and that something is between us – and us alone."

(And while you’re over that side of the world, definitely check out Onya Magazine. Sandi is Editor-in-Chief of this great little Australian mag that features everything from travel to fashion to comedy and entertainmen, it's brilliant.)

Anyhoo. I love marriage. I love other people’s weddings, and I damn well loved this one. 
SO! Post peach champagne, I caught up with the stunning Sarina over the other side of Hyde Park. And this is where the boisterous started. It was like a couple of thousand strangers were cutting loose like it was 2 am, instead of 2 pm. Dancing with complete strangers until my bosoms were well and truly heaving out of my dress, laughing at little kids jiving away, swigging wine out of the bottle (me, not the kids), and doing conga lines around picnic blankets – it was one giant park party.
There was even wedding cake!

*I remember the R-Pattz reference now. Lucy and I were totally convinced that we saw R-Pattz totes incognito in the crowd at Hyde Park. I did at least 3 walk-by’s in an attempt to confirm. Think the jury is still out. I also don’t appear to have been super impressed with the cowl necked part of an otherwise amazing McQueen bridesmaid gown. But beside the point.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Met Ball 2011

The Met Gala is my favourite red carpet event. This year it was in honour of McQueen, and the red carpet didn't disappoint. In no particular order... enjoy a few of my favourites.
 I'm surprised at how much I liked this look. I'm not usually a J-Lo fan. At all. But I think the flower detailed shrug moves it away from a booty hugging gown (aka like this infamous green dress) to an actual couture gown. Most of all I think it's the makeup, and most especially the lipstick
Leighton Meester in Louis Vuitton A/W11. I thought she looked absolutely fabulous, though not sure I'm a fan of those shoes with the length of the dress. I love the length of the dress, and the bondage in the detail. But the strapping on the shoes - it changes the look to one that says trussed. 
Mia Waskiowska, in Thakoon, was also beautiful. Cute hair, interesting hem, pouffy skirt.
Lily Donaldson, in Erdem. Oh lace. Oh collar. Oh demure and whimsy and pale mauve bluebells.
Emma Stone is one of my favourite actresses, because Easy A is the bomb. This gorgeous floral Erdem gown goes beautifully with her soft hair. And again, the makeup is flawless. 
Stunning stunning stunning. And Topshop! I love short hair on girls. I love how this dress accentuates her curves, and the shoes are plain sexy. It reminds me of something Leighton Meester would wear. 
Taylor Swift, whose music I unashamedly love, is always on the my style list. And here she doesn't fail in a gorgeous deconstructed J. Mendel gown. I'm going to sound like a broken record, but again, the makeup! Those dark lips and pale skin. 

Other notable mentions include Diane Kruger, who has killer pins, but didn't really shift from her goddess-like style. Zoe Saldana looked phenomenal in butter yellow. Also Nicole Richie (amazingly gothic details in the accesories for such a graceful gown), Liv Tyler (starbust yellow splash!), Doutzon Kroes (who might have wanted to avoid Gisele Bundchen because that's all-a-much too red for a red carpet),  and the top half of Christina Ricci's dress. Oh, I could go on and on and on. And I haven't even gotten to the disasters... I might do that tomorrow night. 

Dressed for a Royal Wedding

Wasn't quite McQueen, but this was what I wore for the Royal Wedding:

Sorry for the crappy photos. I really need to figure out the whole timer/tripod thing.
Act I dress thrifted from the amazing Rag&Bow pop up shop. I fell in love with it instantly - black velvet bodice, sweetheart neckline. Black gingham taffeta skirt that fell below the knee. And a giant black bow. Oh the bow! 
Black ribbon that once adorned a present.
Vintage earrings from the dress up box. 
Unseen, but worn with flat black boots from Paris.


No, I don't know what that title means in Morse Code. Do you? 
I can tell you that the below necklace spells out: Love (I think!)
 And this is Amore.

Isn't this is one of the cutest ideas for jewellery? 
You get to wear a secret message on your neck at all times. And the design is simple and sweet, and elegant. It's definitely in the vein of my Jordy Askill obsession heart ring obsession. I don't suit fine and delicate jewellery, being built more along the peasant lines when it comes to hands and feet, but that doesn't stop me wanting them. I also love how these are threaded onto thin silk, rather than a chain, or bits of leather (shudder). Just lovely, Coatts jewellery.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Time Telling

Still looking for the perfect watch. Think this first one qualifies.
It's modern, with its perspex band, and vintage in the face. Chunky, not too gold and blingin'. Just lovely. 

Then these two come close seconds:

All from the gorgeous ShopCuffs, which has some of the most interesting vintage fashion finds. I love the way they style their clothes, and that their pieces are vintage and one-off without the bad 80s throw back vibe that a lot of online stores have.  I bought the most amazing dress from ShopCuffs, but I daren't show it yet because I'm saving it to wear to a wedding. Ohhh lala, excitement.