The trouble with hosiery

As this bonkers weather continues here in London I am confronted daily with the following quandary: to don tights or not to don tights?

I’m not a big trouser wearer so when skirts are ones staple how does one cover the pins when one is unsure if the day will bring sunshine and glory or bitterly cold ‘freeze your bones’ wind. Its a hard one, I know.

I currently own 23 pairs of black opaque tights, 2 pairs of black wool/thermal tights, 3 pairs of grey, I cant even begin to count the ribbed varieties and lets not leave out the lonely cream pair featured here earlier in the month.

What really sucks is when mother nature tricks you into believing that finally you can leave the house in the am in a summer dress and bare legs to only find yourself in the pm bolting to the tube from the office before your legs turn a nice shade of ocean blue. I do truly believe she sits up there in her lovely garden, her thermostat set at a perfect temp of 21 degrees and gets a major amount of joy out of watching me sit in front of my tights drawer debating morning after morning. If that isnt enough fun for one day she then twists the knife when I’ve finally decided it's a bare leg day and swiftly turns her dial down and pumps some serious wind chill factor my way, she’s mean I tell you, the majority of women at the top of their field are. *

I figure the solution maybe to meet her half way – stockings (of which I once believed should only be seen on the legs of Jazz Ballet Dancers) could be the solution to all my woes, very popular with flight attendants and secretaries, readily available at Boots for emergency supplies and come in packs of 5 for a record £4.50. I’m high fiving myself to congratulate the brilliance and heading out to Boots to purchase a multi pack...and for those of you who have been stepin' out in sheer nylon for years - why wasn't I told about it?

* Please note my careful use of the word majority – I know a lot of really nice female heavy weights also.

Our Diggers

The use of medals in New Zealand designer Kate Sylvester’s SAFW show this morning has caused an up roar "This demeans the whole purpose of the commemoration of Anzac Day," the national secretary of the RSL, Derek Robson said this afternoon in the Sydney Morning Herald.

This is a tough one – fashion week personnel have retaliated that Sylvester would be “devastated if people said there was a lack of respect."

I’m as true blue as they can get and although I don’t find it particularly disrespectful I can see where our servicemen are coming from. I could imagine Kate would have spent under 30 seconds considering all of the above when putting her collection together and I took more of “An Officer and a Gentlemen” inspiration over a Gallipoli theme from the show. None the less she has caused a stir and so close to Anzac Day the timing is truly unfortunate.

Your Thoughts?

Hey There Delilah

I realised at a very young age that I was attracted to creativity and talent: At the tender age of 12 I stumbled across the grade 7 geek playing guitar in the music block and instantly developed a major first crush. Prior to discovering Jeremy’s hidden talent I simply saw him as that skinny dude, who didn't say much, had bad floppy hair and awkward stubble.

In the past I have been known to have celebrity crushes on the most average looking men, simply because they own an amplifier - I secretly believe these crushes stem from 2 things:

1) I’m a sucker for talent
2) I secretly find the whole “we trash hotel rooms, I don’t give a *&%$ attitude” a turn on

I therefore pose to you this question: Why do musicians/rock stars gain instant street style cred simply because they can strum a guitar or belt out a tune?

Let's be frank, their ability to coordinate an outfit is quite limited to a retro AC/DC shirt, some type of leather jacket, faded denim often of the skinny variety and their accessories restricted to a head full of out of control fuzz and a grubby 3 day growth. I often wonder whether these Indie Punk Rockers put a major amount of thought into this T-shirt and jeans combination or do they truly roll out of bed with a dirty hangover and throw on the first thing they see on their bedroom floor? I know they would like us to believe it’s the latter, (it works better with their laissez faire attitude) but I have my doubts.

Oh and I’ve also always had this stupid dream of being itched into musical history with my name appearing in the title of a hit song – how do you suppose Eleanor of the Rigby fame or Sally who apparently drove a Mustang got their names on the back of a record sleeve? Slept with the band maybe? Now that’s Rock and Roll (if not kind of dirty and uncouth).

Whose line is it anyway?

I figured there was no real point to a day by day break down of Australian Fashion Week (SAFW SS08/09) here on MOMTD for 2 reasons really:
1. By the time I have had the chance to cover a show my loyal Aussie fans will have seen (if you're one of the lucky ones) and read all about it 10 hours prior to it reaching me.
2. I haven’t lived there for nearly 2 years so my opinion is based solely on what I read on line, Australian Vogue when I can get my hands on it (a rare find) and what my Mum sends via care package (handy hint: can be risky, I advise to always give the mother a style code, they can’t go wrong this way).

What I’m really interested in though is the front row? Who’s in it? How they got there? And most importantly what they are wearing? Let’s hope those super impatient official photographers get right in there and send some inside scoop over to their expats here in the UK.

I do however wish all those involved the very best for what I’m sure will be yet another super successful week of home grown style and edge.

Let the show (& "constructive" criticism) begin....

Seek & you will find

Before I moved to London I didn't really ever have the need for a coat let alone spent any time considering coat specifics i.e. winter coat, spring coat, summer coat, in between coat, evening coat, water proof coat, easy to travel with/all seasons coat............... this is the stuff that migraines are made of I tell you.

Now that the London sun seems to be making a genuine effort to stick around longer than 5 minute intervals I have begun to think about the all important wardrobe essential known to us locals as 'The Transition Coat'. This indispensable piece of outerwear is required in between the very unpredictable seasons we experience here in Greater Britain.

The safe option is always the standard beige trench (safe, smart but also done) so in keeping with the Military/Nautical theme that I and the rest of London seemed to be a channelling of late I’m looking for the perfect Spring Pea Coat. Over the years I have purchased so many ‘just not right’ transition coats so SS08 will see me holding off until the prefect one makes itself available to me.

The fabric and colour are the most important elements when on the hunt for this seasonal specific item. I’m looking for a heavy drill, not too heavy as to encourage heat but not too light that it creases as soon I hit the underground. I’m thinking a nice Royal Blue over the popular Navy shade – just to shake it up (crazy I know) as Winter saw me donning quite a bit of Navy, ode to my sailor obsession.

The lovely Rhianna of Liebemarlene teased me with my dream pea coat a few weeks back, I was hoping and praying she would put it in her Ebay store, alas, she kept it for herself (a somewhat selfish but wise fashion decision on her behalf). The always over rated Alexa Chung also sported a sweet coat at the launch for The Elle Style Awards a couple of months back and then there are the Moschino “I can only dream” about coats, however, since they are RTW AW08-09 they seem to be a little heavy on the fabric & embellishment front. Note: the frills & bows - be still my beating heart.

I’m convincing myself patience is a virtue with this purchase I just hope the ever elusive transition season stays around long enough for me to seek, find and wear. Here’s hoping.

Just for the smell of it

Last night I wandered past Hoss on Regent Street, a very sweet, pretty, high street chain (one of two) I had no intention of purchasing but the smell of the store was just too hard to fight. From the dirty, polluted street path of Oxford Circus I was drawn in by the sweet aroma of what I can only describe as raspberries, cream and marshmallows. The combination of this yummy smell, the pretty display of art deco mirrors and the super lovely assistants who wore ribbons in their hair were just too much to resist on what was a glorious Thursday Spring evening.

All of a sudden, out of no where I was immediately overcome with an uncontrollable consumeristic (did I just make that word up?) urge, I just had to buy something, anything, what could I get my hands on? what could i have? I needed to take a piece of this loveliness home with me. I then spied a super cute navy and coral spotted cricket jumper, it was the deal breaker. It was surrounded by an array of what seemed like hundreds of other spotted combinations - racing red and yellow, grape and bottle green, dusty pink and chocolate it was just so beautiful and somewhat French - I was super chuffed with my find.

Although, when I returned home with my new purchase it all seemed to change, the jumper sucked, it was boring, nothing special and kind of plain - why? Maybe because its new home didn’t smell like raspberries, maybe because my room is kind of dusty, my wardrobe old (and only has 3 sides) my carpet an off shade of mustard and my duvet due for dry cleaning - cue ‘I hate London standards of living’ moment.

I got to thinking, why do items always seem more alluring in the shop? What is it about the retail environment that enhances our senses, draws us in, makes our hearts beat faster and injects us with the "I have to have it or I'll die serum”? Is it the trick lighting? The skinny mirrors? The often loud, terribly hip background music? or does the item simply look nicer when it is complemented by its mates? Or maybe its like dating - the thrill of the chase, once we have it in our hot little hands we lose interest and don’t want it anymore.

Needless to say the spotty cricket jumper is returning to its original home, where it belongs and where it will be happy amongst all the other spotty cricket jumpers - thank goodness return policies exist and our statutory rights are not being affected.

Hair To The Throne

Okay so it’s a bit extreme but oh god its so damn pretty.

Some seriously high dos were spotted in Milan during the AW08/09 show at Moschino earlier in the year and what I’m wondering today is: can this look be taken off the catwalk and placed in the streets of London?

It’s so soft and romantic and will accompany the pale pastel frills and florals that summer is insisting we wear this year perfectly. Big M used the curls to soften a harder, edgier approach with this collection and brought a feminine feel to the military look that made such a mega comeback and by the look of the high street doesn’t seem to be going anywhere either.

I believe the tools required to create this masterpiece are:

1) Hot Rollers (the old school 'belonged to your Mum when she was 19' heavy rollers are the best ones, they are illegally hot hot hot)

2) One large can of TRESemme Salon Finish Natural Hold

3) Some serious back combing skills

4) 40 slide/bobby pins

5) A kick a** ‘I’m Amazing’ attitude

.... and when the boyfriend says "what’s with the birds nest?" come back with "it’s all the rage in Milan" cause let’s be frank - it is.

Who Is Fashion? Us or Them?

Photo via The Couturist Records

I'm not into this "Model of The Week "/"Fall 08 Model of the Moment" bizzo simply because to me, these unbelievably tall women all tend to look the same after a while - really long appendages, a really low BMI and those ridiculously high cheek bones (I'm surprised some of them can actually see). I did, however, think this young lady was just lovely. Her name is Georgina Stojiljkovic, she's Serbian (all the good ones are) and is apparently seriously hot property. They also say she's quite the intellect - Not just a hat rack eh?

Those in the know tend to believe these catwalk models 'are' fashion but I'm not quite sure, all you have to do is take a quick peek at the sart and I think you will agree, 'we' the everyday fashionista is what fashion is really all about. Power to the everyday girl who wears a perfectly scuffed pair of cowboy boots and carries a fabulous over sized carry all, I say.

Photo via Frillr

The Commute

The commute can be a killer in this city, there's no way of beating it so you may as well just join it, as a result London Transport and I seem to have become quite good friends over the past couple of years. At one point I was so desperate to earn more pounds to buy more shoes that I took a job that required a tube an over land train and 3 buses, quite extreme I know. Although some Londoners consider gym shoes appropriate commuting foot attire (Oh Dear God - Don't Do It!) I choose to stylishly sashay the streets of London in an array of pretty and super practical ballet flats. I keep all my heels under my desk (much to the amusement of my male colleagues) and elegantly slip the 'bus flats' off and stand a good 4 inches taller for the 8 hour working day. Works for me.

This little collection of ‘bus flats’ makes my heart pitter patter and all can be found on your desk top at the wonderful wonderland that is Net-A-Porter.....

Go on click your way to comfort and style and NEVER wear gym shoes out of the gym. Period.

Does this come in Emerald Green?

Flatting in London is tough. Space is limited, hot water runs out (in winter), lights short circuit, doors fall off their hinges and land lords seriously suck. I currently live in the basement flat (which may have been the servant’s quarters in the yesteryear) of a lovely 1956 Mansion block. I live with 2 uber stylish Aussie girls in a terribly posh suburb of West London. Our flat is small, dark, underground, televisionless, sometimes damp & chilly but terribly hip. We love it and it’s kind of cheap- for London standards anyway.

Tink who has been a friend for more than 10 years lives in Bedroom Number 1 with yours truly residing in number 2 and Chloe in the quieter of the 3 rooms. Tink recently returned from yet another trip home to Australia to visit her lovely (also Australian) boyfriend – on her arrival back to London Town her suitcase seemed to burst in some kind of volcanic manner with all the colours of the rainbow. With an obvious summer frame of mind (wishful thinking) Tink went into over drive purchasing stacks of florals and sunny weather inspired prints. Her room seemed a sea of canary yellow, beautiful fuchsia pinks, the brightest of reds and lots of lots of yummy sorbet coloured greens.

Her closet looks so gorgeous now it’s all hung and somewhat organised, it reminds me of one of those quaint vintage stores that display all their clothes in actual bedroom furniture; however, Tink favours high end labels over the much loved, dusty, second hand garments that grace my coat hangers.

I've diagnosed Tink with a syndrome I like to call “Does this come in other colours?” you may be familiar with this condition and may even suffer from it yourself, an example of this follows:

When a pair of cute sandals recently presented themselves on an overseas holiday Tink initially picked them up in a lemony patent colour (perfect for Spring), however, also fancied the same shoe in electric blue, she simply, no questions asked, no reservations, parted with the cash for both pairs.

This has become quite a pattern for Tink and something that may need to be addressed when considering saving for ones future nest egg. Recently she returned from a spree at Charles and Keith at Singapore airport with a preppy pair of black patent Mary Jane’s with the cutest cream coloured piping, only to then stumble across the exact same pair in the reverse; cream with black piping – “I’ll have both thanks” a definite victim of the “DTCIOC” syndrome.

Tink has come from a long line of stylish women with a Nanny who hands down her antique diamonds and vintage Oroton glow mesh purses and a mother who wears full skirts with tulle petticoats and favours classic labels like Covers and Harry Who (huge hit with fashion savvy Australian Mothers). I think if reincarnation really did exist I would come back as the 4th generation Tink (A-Bell) Heiress – what a stylish life I would lead…... and I'd have 2 of everything.

The Boys Line Up

I seem to be gathering quite a high contingent of male readers - who would have thought?

A theme that seems to be popping up often is "Where can we go in London for Vintage one off items?" I have a few haunts up my sleeve, however, I wanted to open the poll and see if any of my ridiculously fashionable audience have any secret vintage/second hand spots they could throw my way?

Drop me a comment below or send me an email and I'll put together a top 5 list.

Reading in the bath

The boyfriend buys me books, lots of very cool, pretty covered, fashion related books. They are usually a surprise and he tends to present me with this fashionable reading material on Friday evenings when we meet for our after work cocktail ritual in the ever lovely Covent Garden.

My favourite was this gorgeous Vintage Fashion coffee table book - it talks about collecting and wearing and runs from the "Belle Epoque" 1900's - through to the unfortunate 1980's. My favourite part is the list in the back of the book, the author has compiled a who's who of vintage fashion museums and collections all over the world. Very Handy.

And this lovely pocket sized copy of The Fashion Book, it is so cute and in alphabetical order lists all the greats from designers to models to photographers and editors alike. The cover is a little wrinkled/water damaged because I read it cover to cover in the tub. Gael is very sweet and the most personal touch was where he drew an asterisk under the G section and added me as “Society Fashionista”. Very Cute. *

* Note the use of my real name - keep it under your Beret.

………and most recently when I mentioned that I wanted to “market” my blog a little more, I received this:

Interesting...