Winter Wonderingland

The approach of winter seems to have brought up some style conundrums. How do I do 'layering' without looking like I've put on a few extra pounds? Can I wear these sandals with black opaque tights?  How do you carry a shoulder bag when you're wearing a cape?  And is wearing a hat worth it if it totally flattens your hair?  Last year I had a cute knitted teal-coloured beret which also made me look like I had a lobotomy scar when I took it off due to the elastic digging into my forehead.  But the things I've mainly been wondering about is all about gloves (yes, stuff Europe's collapsing economy and the uprisings in the Middle East, WHAT ABOUT THE GLOVES?)

The delectable Dita in fetish-style evening gloves

The ladylike Crawley sisters

Several trends this season, such as 'Ladylike' and 'Fetish' have gloves as an outfit-making accessory.  My beloved Downton Abbey's heroines wear gloves to all elegant events.  But nowadays, apart from keeping our hands warm when it gets brass monkeys outside, can gloves be worn all the time, like jewellery?  This week's LOOK Magazine suggests "swapping last season's stacked bangles for a pair of coloured leather gloves".  But are civilians like me wearing them indoors?  Can I sit at my computer at work in the elbow-length black gauntlets I've bought but not yet worn, without my colleagues asking me if I've got a bad case of eczema or channelling Dr No?   Could I go down the pub or out to dinner still wearing my gloves?  Thing is, it's not just a trend thing; I'm a big fan of their elegance.  I had a pair of Edwardian style crochet white gloves from the V&A shop which I wore to a wedding a few years ago (but came a cropper with some fake blood from my Halloween 'Murdered Victorian Prostitute' costume on their second outing), and I felt so refined and possibly even dainty.  I've worn long gloves to fancy dress events but the thing is, eating, holding a glass, going to the loo, finding stuff in my bag, and well, pretty much everything have all proved far less effective.  And don't even get me started on operating an iPhone's touch screen.  It seems that despite the attempt to bring chic accessories to everyday life, their inpracticality means they can only be used for special occasions.  Or if you're just really really cold.  Or playing football.  I'd really like to try to wear them more though, and am going to keep my eyes out for fellow fashionistas willing to take a risk.  And if it's good enough for glamorous icons like Lady Mary Crawley and Miss Piggy, it's worth it.

Me on a previous (rare) glove-wearing occasion

So I don't seem to have come up with any ground breaking theories or answers, but I got through a whole post without making any glove-based puns, which for me is a great achievement.  Believe me, this post came very close to being called 'What's Gloves Got To Do With It?'.  Ugh.

Tart Deco

It was my birthday last week and so to say goodbye to my 20s, what better way to celebrate than in the decadent style of the 1920s? Cocktails, glamour, dancing and general fabulousness...OKAY, there was a bit of stretching the truth there, I confess I actually left my 20s behind three years ago.  AHEM.  Know what though, I’m going to stop lying about my age now.  I might even put a few years ON and then people will be really impressed with my youthfulness.  [“I’m 45 you know – and I owe it all to moisturiser!”].

But anyway, back to the 1920s, that part was true.  My friends and I attended the fantastic Prohibition club which takes place every few months speakeasy style at a secret location, set up by the people from Bourne & Hollingsworth, who have a great retro bar in Fitzrovia and are also responsible for Blitz Party, SS Atlantica and Belle Epoque parties (40s, 30s and turn of the century respectively).  Authentic detail is paramount, with live music, cocktails in teacups, casino and dressing up being de rigeur.  And EVERYBODY makes an effort.

Your Blogger

I’ve got a thing for the 1920s and Art deco in particular, partially thanks to The Shoe Queen by Anna Davis, Claridge's and the Ritz Bar, and even the decor of my own living room, so I really wanted my costume to be as authentic as possible.  I decided to take my inspiration from bits I already had in my wardrobe, most importantly an awesome peacock feather cape I bought from Topshop several months ago and hadn’t had the opportunity to wear yet (when I bought it, HB’s first comment was “Um, Danny La Rue called.  He wants his stage costume back.”). 

Channelling one part Tallulah from Bugsy Malone, one part Erté print, and with a little help from the trusty internet I built my look.  The evening wear of a typical flapper seems to have been a drop-waisted, tasselled or beaded dress.  However I had to keep it plain, what with all that feathery action, plus all the dresses I have aren't cut for the flat-chested, boyish hipped bodies of the 20s girls.  I didn’t want to have to spend much on something I knew wasn’t going to be particularly flattering, so I found an £8 knee-length slip in Primark which would do nicely [and could be worn under stuff when it gets colder – dear God, I really am showing my real age!]  I got it in a size 16-18 so it would be loose, but I probably could have gone even bigger as it was still fairly clingy (I swear I didn’t have that much birthday cake, honest).  Primark came up trumps again for some tights with faux stocking tops and a pair of turquoise patent mary jane shoes for £10. TEN POUNDS!  I try not to think about the sweatshop issues, and instead think how these would also go with this season’s 60s trend and look a little bit Prada.

Shoes, Primark. Cankles, Model's Own

A fascinator I made a couple of years ago out of a £1.99 alice band, UHU and 3 peacock feathers left over from my wedding invitations went perfectly.  I was supposed to transform my hair into a finger-waved faux bob after watching a couple of great tutorials on YouTube using GHDs and Kirby grips.  Of course, nothing is as simple as it seems and 15 mins before the taxi arrived I looked like Wurzel Gummidge and decided instead to improvise by slicking my hair down and pinning it into a low bun, and with a little help from my beautiful best friend (who was already looking like she’d stepped out of The Great Gatsby), draped a necklace across my forehead and pinned it at the sides. Voila! Instant deco chic.

Again, a bit of internet research helped me get the makeup right, with kohl-rimmed eyes, dark defined brows, and a dark red cupids-bow lip.  Even my perfume was 1920s style - Penhaligon's Juniper Sling (my favourite birthday present) which smells rather like gin. (Very apt for me).  Lastly, long black gloves (from my fancy-dress box) and a long string of pearls completed the look, with a black sequinned evening bag.  And lashings of champagne of course!

Meanwhile I made sure HB was evoking Kevin Costner in the Untouchables rather than Al Capone (although he was Bugsy Malone in his school play, so has previous 20s style experience).  He looked pretty yummy in a pinstriped brown and grey suit, waistcoat, slicked centre parted hair and a rather dapper trilby, which we picked up for £6 at the fancy dress shop.  In fact, all the men looked great, it was definitely a decade for gentlemanly style. Swoooon.

So we all had a 'swell' time, plus coincidentally I noticed that during the last few weeks, 1920s/Art deco style is one of the themes emerging for SS 2012 (Etro, Gucci, Roberto Cavalli).  Keep an eye on Prohibition’s website www.prohibition1920s.com for announcement of the next event, and maybe we’ll Charleston together on the dance floor...  Meanwhile, let's check out some more Bugsy Malone eh?

Happy New Year!

I’ve always thought of September as New Year, much more than January.  The end of the Summer, the significant change in the seasons, the new school/university year, and for September birthday people like me, another year older.  January’s just the same as December really, only less festive and more depressing.  September is a time for new beginnings...and new clothes, yay!  I’ve already put away the summer clothes I only wore once (yes you, lemon-print skirt), put my pasty legs back in the opaque tights and browsed through the lovely thick September issues of the glossy mags, working out what I would like to be wearing this season (and then probably just buying a jumper dress from H&M and wearing it until March, as I seem to do every year).  Of course, now I have this blog, it would probably be useful to actually talk about the trends for A/W 11 and maybe even investigate them, rather than just throwing a cardi over what I already have.  So let’s briefly discuss a few of them...


Trend: Polka dots; Stars

As seen at Marc Jacobs and Stella McCartney, and Dolce & Gabbana. Feminine and fun, right?  Not all over or both at the same time though, lest you look like an escapee from Zippo’s Circus.

Will I wear it?: Yes!  Am actually wearing spots today; and have loved stars since they were all over my childhood bedroom ceiling.  WANT.


Trend: Jewel box                                                                                                                               

                                       Bright gem colours, wine shades, metallics, paillettes (big sequins in fash-speak)

Will I wear it?: Oh heck yes.  So me!  I'm a magpie. (Wine is also very me.)


Trend: 70s

Knee-high suede platforms, floppy hats, afghan coats, snake print, disco, russets and mustards – all very autumnal.  Studio 54 meets Margo Leadbetter.

Will I wear it?: Possibly.  I’m still trying to work out the bow bit on a pussy-bow blouse without looking like Margaret Thatcher, and how practical a big floppy hat would be on the tube. 

Trend: 60s

Mod style Shift dresses, go-go boots, chunky heeled courts, tunics over trousers, cocoon coats. 

Will I wear it?: Maybe not.  This trend was mainly designed for boyish figures like Twiggy, which I do not have.  Plus I’ve been phasing miniskirts out of my wardrobe.  Flashing my pants is no longer fun for anyone.  Which brings me on to...

Trend: Fetish

Not gimp suits and ball gags, but more Miss Whiplash dominatrix; leather, rubber, lace up boots, sheer, big knickers, peaked caps, waist cinching belts. Yes, Mistress!

Will I wear it?: I would love to but I don’t think a rubber skirt and leather bra top would quite work in the office...plus I’d be terrified of attracting pervy old men on the street asking how much they could pay to lick my shoes.  Might be able to do a prudish version though with a pencil skirt and a sheer-ish blouse though.  On your knees, worms! *wsssht-crack!* [that's supposed to be a whip sound. Or "whuppah!' according to Chandler Bing]

Trend: Androgyny

Flat shoes, blazers, trousers, shirts buttoned all the way up. Yuck!

Will I wear it? No!  Again, this is not a boyish physique, and you probably know how I feel about brogues.  Even if I did try it, a crisp white shirt would last about 30 seconds before I spilled tea on it.

Trend:  Heritage

Tweed, tartan, midi skirts, riding boots, heeled loafers, fur tippets; eccentric English country lady.

Will I wear it?: OMG Penelope Keith in To the Manor Born! YES!

Trend: Folk

                                                           

Ponchos? Crochet blankets? Fringing? MY EYES!

Will I wear it?: No folking way.

So - The Verdict: Hmmm.   Well, there are some things I like, and some I haaaate.  But I’m sure the High Street will provide me with the odd piece I can drop in here and there to maybe ‘nod’ to the new season without going full Anna Della Russo nutty (or spending a fortune on Net-a-Porter). I'm sure you'll be able to hear the whimpers from the changing room and smell the melting of my credit card from wherever you are. Or maybe just watch this space!

Does my bum look big in this?

Women’s bums are huge right now (popularity-speaking).  Beyonce, Kim Kardashian, Nicki Minaj – all these women are revered for flaunting their non-flat booties with pride.  Pippa Middleton sparked a frenzy when she bent down in that bias-cut white dress to pick up her sister’s wedding train (and hers isn’t even very big) and men and women the world over drooled at her shapely derriere.  

Major, not Minaj

 Couldn't resist this pic of the inimitable Coco,
AKA Mrs Ice-T            

      Kim doing what she does best                   

Now I hope this post doesn’t come across as conceited, but I want to try and get across a message here.  From previously obsessing about it I’m now accepting, and even embracing my shape.  I’ve finally realised what I should have realised all along – that my own curvy rear is actually an asset. (You could say it was an ASSet!  Boom boom)  On one hand, I could do with toning up, but then again, I’m no means a big girl, so as long as I get the proportions right, I can get away with it.  Okay, so I look a bit wrong in skinny jeans, but pour me into a stretchy pencil dress and I’m Jessica Rabbit.  Over the years and various wardrobe challenges, victories and fails I have learned to make the most of what my dad's side of the family, and pasta (to paraphrase Sophia Loren) gave me.  If you’ve got it, flaunt it (just not too much, eh Coco?)  My black leather jeans (what? it was the 90s!) were apparently carte blanche for strangers to spank me as they walked past.  “I couldn’t help it, it was just so shiny and round!” a woman helpfully protested after I’d yelped in pain and indignation.  Fortunately I’ve pushed the trauma (and bum clinging trousers) to one side and discovered that my love of retro styles and womanly clothing, and what’s available out there right now fit in well with my shape. 

My current favourite clothing label is Diva Catwalk, which on first look, is quite WAGgy, in fact its celebrity clientele currently includes Amy Childs from The Only Way Is Essex and professional mistress Imogen Thomas.  But you’ve got to admit these ladies look good – the clingy dresses show off their bangin’ bods without showing off lots of flesh, (“I’m a serious actress/presenter/whatever”) and are spot on with the colour-block trend.  And looking a little closer, aren’t they similar to the Roland Mouret and Victoria Beckham styles, but a tenth of the price? 

I’ve never felt more slinky than I do in their aptly-named black ‘Va Va Voom’ dress (and peplums are so next season)  [centre, green] And my bright yellow ‘Mandy’ dress [3rd from left] was a hit at my friend’s wedding the other week.  I’ve managed to track down a couple of other dresses at more bargainous prices on eBay, including the red ‘Georgina’ [3rd from right, turquoise] which has incredibly flattering pleating across the tummy and cute cap sleeves.  They’re not as scary as they look – and if you’re not afraid to be bootylicious, check them out! www.divacatwalk.co.uk

Altogether now: "I like big butts and I cannot lie..."

Sensible Shoes and Sensibility

I seem to have a reputation for buying shoes.  I cannot lie, I do love shoes and seem to have a fair few pairs, but I generally always buy stuff that’s reasonably priced or on sale, honest!  I think the psychological reason for this so-called addiction must be because I have been cursed with size 41 feet (a man-sized 42 in some shops, weep), and to combat this, I need to buy shoes that make my feet feel beautiful.  (Did that sound convincing?)

However, this seemingly frivolous story has now taken on a tragic chapter. My friends, I have developed bunions, particularly on my left foot.  Clearly, it wasn’t enough that I look like I’ve got extra joints in my prehensile monkey toes, now the big toe joints want to move out sideways as well.  Not fair! Yes, I love high heels, but I don’t wear them all the time; I don’t like and have never worn pointy shoes; I often wear comfortable shoes for distance and change when at my destination...but even flat shoes hurt me now.  Am I going to have to choose between orthopaedic shoes or a wheelchair?

And there’s no such thing as a pair of shoes which are comfortable AND beautiful, trust me.  A recent trip to Clarks had me practically retching at the sensible granny sandals.

Vs.

A few months ago I bought the heels above for my best friend’s wedding – I’m one of the ‘Wing Women’ and part of our dress code is red shoes.  Although they concerned me with their height (I’m over 5 foot 8 and these babies were pushing me up to drag queen proportions), they felt fine in their nice soft suede and elegant 50s pin-up shape.  But it now appears that my feet have literally mutated, and at an alarming rate.  With 2 weeks until the big day, last night I began the breaking-in process by wearing them around the flat with thick socks on. After a couple of hours my foot joints were actually throbbing.  How am I going to last a whole day in them, let alone lead a wedding disco conga?  I think I may have to replace them. Typical that this is way out of the 28 day returns policy and they’ve now gone down in the sale!

I think I’ve found an alternative- the red version of the LK Bennett shoes Kate Middleton wore a few weeks ago.  They’re still elegant and soft suede, but closer to the ground therefore in theory helping realign my balance onto my foot. But then again Kate wouldn’t baulk at the still pricey sale price of £125, especially as I’ve already spent £70 on the other pair. SIGH.  Otherwise I think I’ve tried nearly every red shoe available in the UK on and they’re either too casual, too uncomfortable or too ugly and cankle-y.  There’s nothing else for it.  After I’ve forked out for those, the others (and many of their neighbours unfortunately) are going on eBay. Then I’m saving up for a foot operation...

Cut it out

In these sleazy tabloid times, I have a confession to make: I read the Daily Mail website. DON'T JUDGE ME. I may not have adopted their self righteous right-wing attitudes (yet...!) but I do enjoy their vapid celeb articles.  [This is as old as the hills but still makes me laugh: The Daily Mail-o-matic headline generator - sample: 'Have Benefit Claimants Made British Swans Obese?]  Anyway, I noticed there seems to be endless 'news' articles about celebs wearing bikinis, either 'showing off her stunning figure' (or 'flaunting her curves' if she's considered a bit fat).

I usually skim over these, as my retinas had only just about recovered from the assault of Toni Terry's slutsuit, when another WAG type unleashed ('leash' being an apt word) this stupid thing:

I have no idea who this woman is but she is dating a footballer with a name I can't spell

Now you might think it's not that bad.  But look closer.  What are those stupid tape measure-like straps and rivet holes?  What's the point?  I think that the trend for cut-out swimsuits or monokinis or whatever seems to be getting more extreme.  Designers must be wondering where else they can add superfluous straps to and cut holes from (eek!).  Obviously they’re not particularly good for swimming in or comfortable (Toni’s wedgie still makes me wince) but the thing that bugs me the most is how ridiculous the tan marks must be.  The main purpose of these cozzies is obviously for posing and sunbathing in, but the wearer must have to slap on a very high factor sun cream and spend most of their time in the shade or covered up, which would defeat the object surely? I have a bad enough time trying to avoid strapmarks. Can you imagine what you’d look like underneath if you spent too long in the sun in these?

The Christmas tree torso effect

Your belly would be as patchy as my picture layout skills

Plus only a very small proportion of the population would actually be able to wear these things.  If you had any hint of love handles they'd ooze out of all the holes.  But I guess that's the idea, isn't it?  It's for these celebs to show that they are not built like ordinary people and are rich enough to afford less fabric.  Fine, okay, I'm not bitter but just remember, there's a fine line between sultry and porny. Or this...

"I like!"

Handbags and Glad Blags

Hello again and profuse apologies for going quiet on you.  I’ve had a bit of distracting stuff going on over the last couple of weeks, but am back to being shallow and talking about buying material things once more, don’t worry! 


So then, the sales have been on for a while but have generally failed to impress me with their ‘up to 50% off’ claims. Pah - 70% is where the real magic happens: such as this leather lovely I got yesterday from Episode at House of Fraser, £40.50 down from £135!

Ooo, ladylike boxy shape! Chain handle! Laser cutting! I did briefly consider one of those amaaaazing Christopher Kane neon laser cut clutches, but I had a feeling that as soon as I parted with my much needed £295, Primark would bring out their own bargainous version (still waiting; those kids in the sweatshops just aren’t cutting fast enough!). Plus I wanted one in each of the 4 colours.  So I figured that this tasteful taupe bag would bean alternative which would transcend seasonal trends and help me on my quest to look more grown up and polished.

(Speaking of polished, I discovered a company who claim to be able to restore leather handbags, and after a bit of negotiation, am hoping they’ll return my magenta Mulberry Mabel to at least a useable condition and give it a clean and a new coat of polish for £35.  It would certainly be brilliant if I could get it back out of the wardrobe and back onto my shoulder, because that was also a dearly beloved sale bargain and I could fit my entire WORLD into that bag.  I shall keep you updated if Mabel looks young and beautiful once more!)

Okaaay, I have to admit tasteful taupe wasn't quite enough to appease me...the retail therapy continued with a £25 impulse buy from ASOS (above).  This disco hottie could possibly pass for an Anya Hindmarch (ish) (below). Except I haven’t even used it yet and I’ve got glitter all over my desk, my bedroom, my face...I wonder if the glue is ten times better on the £250 version?

Glamping

It’s that time of year where it seems every women’s magazine has the same articles in every one: “Pre-Holiday Boot Camp”, “Bikinis to Suit Your Shape!” and “Festival Fashion”.  Whilst I usually skip over the first two with an Almond Magnum and a strategically-tied sarong, the third one makes me laugh a little bit.  When I see strappy gladiator sandals and jumpsuits suggested as a suitable ensemble for a UK festival, it makes me wonder whether the writers have ever actually been to a festival without staying in a luxury lockable caravan with its own wardrobe, toilet, shower, cleaner and electrical socket for the hair straighteners.  We’re not all Alexa Chung in the VIP area.

Are those SUEDE HEELS? Should've gone for those Wedge Wellies that were on Dragons' Den

I confess I’ve not actually been to that many festivals; despite the fact that I adore live music, I DETEST camping and hassle.  When I was a teen, my parents were adamant that I was too young for festivals and there would be bad people and bad drugs.  By the time I was deemed old enough, it was the year of trench foot at Glastonbury, and looking at the weather forecast I opted to go to my 6^th Form ball.  Some of my friends went though and had their tent broken into and their stuff nicked, and had to wear bin bags with elastic bands over their wellies in an attempt to traverse the rivers of mud and sewage.  But regardless of the unpredictable British weather, now it’s all about looking good – and like the look is 'effortless' (oh the irony) insouciance ('What this? Oh just a little vintage thing I threw on...') as opposed to the practical.

That's more like it

Okay, so the weather was good at Hard Rock Calling in Hyde Park last year (10 mins from home with my own shower and bed, yay!) but the queue for the ladies’ portaloos went on for EVER, probably due to the number of dolly birds wearing playsuits.  When you’re in a stinky box hovering gingerly over a mound of other people’s waste, the last thing you want to do is be unbuttoning and climbing out of your ENTIRE OUTFIT, surely?  Hold breath, dash in, wee, jump out, gag and try to forget about the horrors you’ve just witnessed.  And is that beer that's seeping through your flip flop, or something more sinister...? 

This week’s Grazia even had a page of “Festival Fragrances”, which included a bottle of perfume which cost £120.  As if you’d weigh your rucksack down with that rather than a jumbo bottle of vodka and a can of Impulse!  Maybe I should go along and rob some tents whilst everyone’s bopping to The Saturdays; I’d love a Marc Jacobs bag and a pair of Jimmy Choo Hunter boots...

I thought THIS was what festival fashion was really all about (just say 'No' to drugs, kids!):

Wish You Were Here!

Apologies for the delay in this post (the subject now being several days old), I was in shock after hearing Hugh Hefner and his fiancée had split.  But it was true love!  (Maybe she actually read the terms of the Pre-Nup?) And on the subject of perfect couples...

Just as yet another Premier League footballer hits the headlines for his seedy infidelity, John Terry and his wife Toni are on holiday showing us just how in love they are.  Aww, look at them, how sweet that there just happened to be a photographer nearby to catch them unawares as they discreetly show their affection for one another.  Why, just a year ago, he was the one in the headlines and now here they are, more in love than ever.  All Toni had to do was stop wearing her ring for a couple of weeks and John had given up his numerous [alleged] infidelities and whisk her away on a few romantic holidays.  Of course, they’re a private, modest couple so they wanted to play this down, especially at this sensitive time for the family of the philanderer currently in the news.  Therefore Toni’s wearing a conservative one-piece bathing costume so nobody recognises them – also to observe the strict decency laws in the United Arab Emirates.  Well, regular tan lines are just so poor people.  Bless them and their heartwarming marriage.  What an inspiration.

Nigella's Burq-kini this ain't

Oh and look, Peter Crouch and Abbey Clancey are on holiday and just happen to have been caught smooching by a photographer too!  And Wayne and Colleen!  Looks like those hookers have been forgotten about!  Damn those paparazzi, ruining their intimate private time.  I wonder if Mr and Mrs Giggs are planning a romantic holiday anytime soon?  Wouldn’t we all be shocked if we saw how much in love they are when they’re alone together?  That would show the cynics!
[Font:  Sarcastic Sans].

I wish when HB and I were on holiday we had a photographer following us around.  We have mostly wonky drunk ones taken with a bad flash.  They could’ve just given us the cue and we could’ve sucked our stomachs in and smooched photogenically in the sea, rather than set the timer and desperately scrambled into position or tried to take a headshot at arm’s length and ended up with double chins and red eyes...

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

This Stinks

I thought Chanel No.5's Nicole Kidman "I'm a dancer! I love to dance!" advert was the most cringey perfume ad ever, but I've been reading one of my favourite beauty blogs Kiss and Make Up today and have seen not one but two dreadful perfume commercials, and unsurprisingly, they're celebrity ones.

Up first is Justin Bieber's Someday:

*Sniiiiiffff*...However I suspect it's not aimed at women like me who are actually old enought to be his mother (weep!) and the 11 year olds are already "ZMOG I wish that was me HE IZ SO FIT LOL!!!!!!!".  Urgh.  And how much of a rip off of Marc Jacobs' Lola is that bottle?

But if that wasn't enough to put you off your lunch, check out Unbreakable, a unisex fragrance By Khloe Kardashian and her husband Lamar. Hurl!  It's so cheesy, I now imagine the perfume smells like a mature roquefort.  Nice touch with the twinkly wedding rings.  I give them 6 months.

And lastly, I found a couple of gems in print form: the terrible cheap photoshop of Mariah Carey's Lollipop Bling collection:

 

And I Love Myself and You Are All Gullible Scum (oh, my mistake, it's Siren) by the ever-modest Paris Hilton.  If anything makes me want to dash my brains out against the rocks like a sailor driven mad by the mythological siren, it's her facial expression and the fact that she now has 10 (TEN!) fragrances on the market. 

And I thought Outrageous by Kerry Katona was bad.  At least she couldn't afford to advertise it! 

Rabbiting On

Now I sang the praises of the 1950s style Gil Elfgren pin-ups the other day, and I'm all for retro but I just cannot make my mind up about how I feel about the opening of the Playboy Club in London.  Is it cheeky kitsch charm?  After all, it's far more innocent than boobs(and worse)-in-your-face lap dancing clubs.  Or is it a bit more sinister than that?  Is it saying that things haven't changed for women since the 60s and we're all going backwards?  And what about Hef? Until recently, the Viagra-addled miniature octogenarian had 3 twenty-something identikit girlfriends who were happy to share him; now he's marrying a 25 year old.  Is he an old fashioned gentleman?  Is it true love? Or are basically, men driven by young girls with big tits and women driven by money and lifestyle?  That seems to be what the Playboy brand is saying.

I read an interview today with Hugh Hefner and he said:

We live in a post-feminist society where a lot of women have grown  up watching things like the popular reality show that was set in the Playboy mansion. The majority of viewers of that show were young women. I’m on Twitter and get fan messages, a lot from young women, who love Playboy and love the bunny.
Why do they say they like it?
It means different things to different people but for me it means personal, economic and political freedom. Maybe young women love the lifestyle represented in the TV show.
Other than the money, why do some women want to become Playboy models?
It’s a form of sexual emancipation. The very thing some feminists consider exploitation represents, for a great many other women, a form of sexual celebration.

Read more: http://www.metro.co.uk/lifestyle/865460-hugh-hefner-i-get-female-fans-on-twitter-saying-they-love-playboy#ixzz1OaYcaU42

I don't claim to be a very good feminist but when Hefner, and his Playboy girls claim it's 'sexual emancipation' and  'empowering', I have to laugh.  The women are dressed to serve, and please the men.  They're not there for their waitressing or croupier skills.  They're making money from their face and bodies.  And yes, perhaps for a great many women, being looked at and told you're sexy or gorgeous is the ultimate achievement.  And the money helps.  But if my [hypothetical] daughter said it was her life's ambition to be a Bunny Girl, I'd wonder where I went wrong - where women's rights have gone wrong over the last few decades.

I've been in the consumer's position; I went to a hen party where we had a Butler in the Buff.  He looked good, and he was there to serve us.  We checked out his buns.  We giggled and leered.  His mojito making skills left a lot to be desired; however, if a chubby plain guy had turned up, we'd have kicked up a fuss, right?  But he wasn't doing the job to be 'empowered' by bending over in front of a gang of leering cougars, he was paying his way through university.  So when the Bunnies or their creator dress it up as post-feminist, I just don't get it.  We all like to look at good-looking things.  We'll pay for that pleasure.  Some people like money more than being respected.  Is that it?  Or have I misunderstood everything?

Mmm, now I fancy a mojito...

Stay Classy

Went out on Saturday, looking and feeling very sophisticated.  I rejected the flesh-flashing minidress for a midi length prom dress from Peacocks with nude suede sandals.
Here's a model looking better in it than my photographic skills would allow:

Peacocks by Design prom dress, £38

Husband [HB] (wearing the Hugo Boss shoes I got for him at the sample sale and looking very suave) and I glided to the Mandarin Oriental Bar for champagne to meet our friends, another couple.  The onto the tres chic Zuma.  There were cocktails. More champagne. Warm sake.  When Zuma kicked out we were still having a great time so we went to the Wellington Club (very 'Made in Chelsea').  I remember rum, shots of Jagermeister and grinding up on HB to Rihanna's S&M (cringe).  It's all gettting a bit blurry now. I know there was also swigging from a bottle of rum in the back of the taxi home.  I fell asleep facedown in full makeup.  Woke up about 4pm.  Demure, schmemure!

Wonky Glamour Icons

 A Near Miss (Right on Target) 1964

I love Gil Elvgren's Pin-Up paintings.  We've got a page-a-day calendar at home and every day there is a beautiful retro lady all immaculately dressed up...and then oops! her skirt's got all hitched up and she's flashing her stocking tops!  Oh no!  It's so cheesy and innocent, and they are all so gorgeous and old fashioned and feminine (those 50s pointy boobs!).  To be loved with a hint of irony of course, and a groan at the terrible puns in the painting's name.

The Wrong Nail

"Ouch! I was only trying to hang a picture in my underwear and heels (as you do) and I banged my thumb! And oopsy, my robe fell open.  If only there was a big strong man around to help me! Oh hello Darling, thank goodness you're home..."  

Pervert lobster assaults waitress. (AKA Fresh Lobster)

My favourite - That Low-Down Feeling (Who Me?) What a stunner.

More here: http://coca-cola-art.com/2008/10/08/gil-elvgren/ 

Lose some, Win some

I was going to swing into Summer with a lovely pale yellow 50s style prom dress from Tara Starlet which I haven't worn yet.  I was waiting until I had a bit of a tan to show it off.  Well, my recent holiday gave me that tan, but unfortunately it also gave me a layer of rum and burger fat!  I went to try it on last night and couldn't get it zipped up as easily as when I first got it.  Gave it another tug but the zip wasn't ready for this jelly and busted half way up, leaving me stuck in the dress.  After several minutes of swearing and struggling I had to interrupt Husband from playing LA Noire [which is very retro stylish by the way] and get him to help. This took quite a long embarrassing time until he finally managed to yank the now back to front broken dress off via my head.  Rest in Peace my pretty, I never really knew you.  Maybe my Mum can replace the zip, but for now it's a duff and I have to go back to the soup diet.

So today I needed to boost my wilted ego with something fabulous.  I dug out a dress from before my pre-holiday weightloss in bright red and my 'Lady Dragon' shoes, which are curvy, rubber, smell of bubblegum and have a massive plastic heart on the front!  Instantly feel better. 

Vivienne Westwood for Melissa 'Lady Dragon' heels

Plus I keep looking at my nails and smiling - this week they are painted in a shimmering bright olivey colour called - I kid you not -'It's Not Rocket Science'!  This is from the Orly Cosmic FX collection (which I don't think is available anymore but I got mine from eBay). The photo just doesn't do the polish justice, it's so sparkly in real life!
 

Orly 'It's Not Rocket Science'

Apologies if the photos/layout/links/content/everything of this blog are basic and a bit rubbishy, I'm still trying stuff out. It's not rocket science (see what I did there? GROAN) but I'll learn eventually...

Oh and one dress may be over for now, but this lunchtime I discovered a Hugo Boss Sample Sale just up the road from my work and picked myself up something lovely...and tomorrow there's a French Connection sample sale!  (Should anyone else be in the Camden area, the sales are at 19 Mandela Street NW1 until Sunday, and open from 10am to 8pm I think.) Silver lining!