Oh What A Night!!

Last night saw the event that all my ladies have been waiting for!!! Anti-Cupid’s birthday (I call him this because he insists on hooking me up with whoever is single even if it’s the worst match ever). FYI Anti-Cupid, that single friend of yours that I was chatting to was a good potential but you made me drag everyone onto the dance floor and so ruined my opportunity!!!!! You’re sacked!!!

Anyway it was lush. I mean to the extreme. Not only did Anti-Cupid and his Misses manage to get an upgrade to the presidential suite at the Hilton, the buffet involved chicken curry, mini fish and chips and mini hamburgers. It was insane; we also didn’t pay for any drinks!!!! The absolute highlight was The Baby Giraffe’s and mine awesome singing and dancing to Mumford and Sons’ Little Lion Man.

My head is slightly suffering and my hair deffo is. Beehives are good on the night but the wildness I woke up with this morning was an actual nightmare.

I’m still sad about the late Lee McQueen. Kate Moss cried at LFW yesterday during the silence but I have to say I loved the hat she wore for Hasaan’s show. Westwood today!! Can’t wait to see what she does!!!

I’m going to pass out on the sofa now, maybe watch some more Wife Swap USA and stare at the absolute feast The Baby Giraffe has made herself!!

xoxo

Ok, shock revelation!!

Ok so I’ve had somewhat of an epiphany!! My blog was originally set up to showcase my little fashion experiments but that has not been the case so far. Sorry. Also it may never be the case as I tried to sew the buttons back on some trousers and they just fell straight back off so I’m guessing I’m not that good at all that kind of thing. AT ALL!!

Wow, can’t sew, can’t cook, doesn’t like to clean, and hates kids. Please form an orderly queue those wishing to marry me!! I also don’t really want to do that either!!!! No wonder I’m single. Oh and if anyone does want to join the queue I’m told by my girlies that my type is slightly dirty and homeless looking!!!

Anyway back to my point. I shall continue to blog because I love it but the content may vary from what I originally set out to write.

In other news; did anyone else cry when Alexander McQueen died?? I did!!! We have truly lost a great person!!! Fashion is never going to be the same, and Fashion Week will forever be tainted!!

On the other end of the spectrum Kelly Cutrone’s book finally arrived and it is just fabulous as is my copy of Love. Just divine!! I got the cover with Lara Stone. The Baby Giraffe was shocked by the amount of nakedness and bored to death of me talking about all the new campaigns that were in it.

Anyway I’m going to say goodnight. I have 3 meetings, a date and a 21st birthday party this week so I need to get a head start on outfits.

xoxo

The underbelly of the swinging 60's

I went to a Motown tribute thing tonight and it really made me think. But before I tell you what I thought let me tell you a little bit about it. The seats were great but I felt highly exposed, like if they were to pick someone from the crowd they would pick me because I’m in their direct eye line and wearing a bright orange shift dress with circles on it (my sub-conscious told me to dress for the event). The male singers were amazing, the women too but I like to focus on the important things in life, they had some major moves. My little cupcake could hardly contain herself.

So now to my point...

When someone says “the 60’s” I instantly envision Edie Sedgwick, Andy Warhol, Brigitte Bardot, The Beatles, The Stones, Jackie O, Pirate Radio, Twiggy, polyester, short skirts and shift dresses. I imagine a time where everyone joins together in peace and love listening to Cream and talking about their new flares with flowers in their hair. For some reason I would never consciously connect Motown to that decade.

I mean, do you see The Supremes hanging out with The Beatles??

Whilst the Teddy Boys were going crazy for the girls in short, short skirts and the Mods were cleaning their Vespers; Whilst Twiggy and Edie were sending shivers down the World’s spine and Bob Dylan was hanging out with Mick and Keith; Whilst Vivienne Westwood was setting up shop and fashion was experiencing its metamorphosis; Whilst populations were high off life (or Acid) there was a whole different movement happening. The movement was record label Motown.

So why do we forget to associate these greats with their decade? I mean I have yet to meet a woman that doesn’t melt at the sound of Marvin Gaye’s voice or hasn’t sung Baby Love into her hairbrush!!

My theory is that they weren’t controversial enough. They were the good kids that sat in the front of class whilst Woodstock (thank-you Mr. Lang and co.) at the back. Keith Richards and John Lennon were making paper aeroplanes and launching them at Smokey Robinson!! Nobody wants to know that Stevie Wonder went to church last Sunday when Mick Jagger got arrested on Saturday. Nobody cared that The Supremes were experiencing some problems when Edie and Andy were at war.

Still, like all things from the 60’s they survived the test of time.  Shame my Nana's clothes didn't, I could have rocked some lovely vintage!!

The Blogger or The Editor

So the latest scandal on the runways is not how thin the models are, or who fell over (whenever I write this I have thoughts of boys singing “who fell over” in a sort of football song chant. How annoying!!!) It’s that fact that Little Miss Tavi Gevinson blocked Paula Reeds view at the Dior Haute Couture!! Firstly, Tavi is 13 and therefore should have been in school not in Paris. Second of all I don’t really know how I feel about the situation. All I know is that the story is everywhere.

One half of me, the Angel or the Devil I have yet to decide, is on Team Editor. I mean its Haute Couture not Bendles. Paula lives and breathes in the Fashion Industry, she is older and therefore much wiser and has the maturity to talk about Couture (if you could see the inside of my head now, you will see that I view Haute Couture as this ancient ritual that helped shaped the world and Ready-to-wear is it’s Great Granddaughter-I don’t know what came in between them but that’s how it is in my noggin). Tavi has no need for Couture in her life so why was she even there. She lives in the Chicago suburbs and she could hardly wear a Galliano creation for 4th period maths now, could she? And the bow was a bit silly, even if it was Stephen Jones. Why should these people who have worked their butts of their whole life be placed second to people who just blog. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to be sent all colours of freebies and sit front row but I just wouldn’t feel right knowing I had stolen it from somebody who truly deserves it.

Now my other side. Social media is the new black (see told you I constantly think about PR) and with or without the special treatment from PR’s those pesky bloggers are just going to keep on blogging. HHmm, maybe if I blog really bad things about Vivienne Westwood she will find out and invite me to her offices and give me her entire collection for free. Or maybe she won’t. I’m not going to risk it. Anyway back to my point. Bloggers will keep on typing so why not keep them sweet so they only write good things. It’s a very effective way of keeping control over what’s written and totally eliminates negative press. But I do think that consideration should be taken into what events these bloggers go to. Haute Couture-not appropriate for Tavi. Met Ball-totally not appropriate for any blogger.

Another topic for debate is why guys don’t appreciate ice-cream the way us ladies do?? It can solve wars don’t you know!!!

The Queen has arrived

So Sarah Jessica Parka had taken her throne at Halston and if I’m totally honest with you I don’t like it. Yes, we all know that she played Carrie Bradshaw, had a wardrobe to die for and a totally amazingly cool apartment (Perry Street of Bleaker-it’s my Nirvana) but we do need to remember that that wasn’t actually her.

Carrie is styled by Patricia Field and when Sarah Jessica Parker is on the red carpet or at any type of event she is given the beautiful dresses she wears. Have you noticed that when she is just kicking about the Big Apple (Sigh) she doesn’t look so great? In fact she looks a bit drab!! Sorry SJP but I just don’t see how you qualify for such an awesome position.

Kate Moss on the other hand can do no wrong. Her Topshop range is just delicious and her new Longchamp bags are worth killing for. Where ever she goes she looks amazing (even drug addled) and us normal people bend over backwards to be like her (minus the drugs). One of my lovely ladies couldn’t even watch the show she did with James Brown because she wanted to keep the air of mystery around Kate Moss alive. Not once have I heard that reference being made about SJP, Carrie maybe but never SJP.

And whilst SJP is sitting pretty with her Este Lauder like perfumes, Kate Moss is rocking it up as Agent Provocateurs’ Miss X. I guess what I am trying to say is that SJP is just a bit boring and people seem to confuse her for Carrie (a bit like everyone fancying R-Patz when in actual fact they fancy Edward). Someone like Victoria Beckham or even Ashley Olsen would have made more sence!!

Serge-a-like Should Come With a Health Warning

In the future I think it best that I meet Serge-a-like in an open field, whilst wearing flats and 100% sober!! Seriously!! After the disaster of the stairs last week I thought that this week would be different. And considering he had already touched me I knew what to expect.

Well, I did not expect the sofa I came in contact with!! Yes that’s right the sofa...I fell over. The horrific thing was that I had already made eye contact and smiled when it happened so HE SAW!!! Honestly this guy must have a secret vendetta against me. Or maybe it was the very strong Mojitos (thank you Bailey), amaretto (thank you me) and sambucas (thank you me again) I was drinking that blinded me, causing me to not see a massive 3 seater which I proceeded to then fall over!!

Nope, defiantly the secret vendetta!!

I might lay low for a week or so. In fact make that lay low until Wednesday (Mojo is having a gig night).

In other news, Clive has discovered that the Baby Giraffe has been on his MySpace and company website (i.e. majorly stalking him). It’s ok though; she told him I went on them to see what bands he has work with. So now I’m a crazy drunk boy mad stalker!! Life just keeps getting better and better.

Thank God The Affordable Vintage fair is in town next weekend. I need some projects to take my mind and eyes off of the male species. I think I might make myself a hi-vis jacket to wear next time I'm out.

Note to self: never try and talk to Serge-a-like on or near a road. The consequences may be fatal.

It's worse when your sober

So after the Serge-a-like events of Saturday, you know when he touched me and I thought I was going to faint, I thought my life couldn’t get any more worse. BUT IT DID. And this time I was SOBER. IN THE GYM.

It was a normal Monday night, the Baby Giraffe and I watched Glee then went to the gym (I do realise 10pm is an odd time to go to such a place but we can barely get up for work in the mornings and our gym is in the opposite direction to Seal Street so all temptation to go out is lost...well almost). The gym was going ok despite the high concentration of men that happened to be there but we figured its Monday so everybody has good intensions.

Anyway, we finished all our cardio so you can imagine how attractive we look and we moved to another floor to start doing sit-ups and things like that. Upon entering this floor we spotted ARMS on the Elliptical and oh boy was he hot...think Abercrombie and Fitch hot. Then whilst I was on some inside leg toner thing and the Baby Giraffe was on some side abs toner thing, ARMS came and lay on the mat next to me and opposite the Baby Giraffe. Well the Baby Giraffe couldn’t even look and I got the giggles and had to move. AND NO JOKES HE MOVED TO THE MACHINE NEXT TO ME!! It was awful; he was tall, broad shoulders, arms that could throw you around some and a face you could stare all day long (and the night).

We left. We had no choice. I was in fits of very girlish giggles. We went to Tesco’s for some food.

THEY WERE IN THERE ASWEL. By the milk. The Baby Giraffe spun on the spot and hid in the “gluten free” isle and I hid behind a freezer, giggling. Worse of all he was with CELLPHONE GUY another fit bit that was at the gym last week and spent the entire time on the phone and working out!!

Why do bad things happen to good people!! The Baby Giraffe is currently sat on the sofa in depression unable to turn the TV on (I better not be missing anything good) and I have just inhaled a chocolate yoghurt with bits of Cadbury’s Flake in it.

I'm considering becoming a hermit!!!