It's a Feminist Issue

Doesn't everything seem to be a feminist issue? Fat, guns, climate change, gay rights and food are just a few of the things which a google search throws up as feminist issues. No wonder the idea of feminism has acquired such a stigma that women are reluctant to 'be feminists'; feminism is associated with bra-burning, ferocious, man-hating and bitter spinsters. A notion seems to have developed that you cannot be a feminist if you have chosen to be a mother, or enjoy hobbies which may be seen as frivolous: that sewing, cooking, even fashion cannot go hand in hand with feminism. That to be equal to men, you have to have a high powered career.

These ideas are only inaccurate, but in my eyes are the entire opposite of the true feminist ideal. To me, feminism implies a choice. It is the movement which started by demanding to have the same political rights as men, but is actually more important than being identical to a man in every way (after all, that would mean bra-burning, hairy legs and no dresses, wouldn't it?); it is the ability which a woman should be able to have to choose which path of life she wishes to take, and not have to factor into that decision the constraints of law (which thankfully has been achieved in the UK to a great extent), society and even each other. Despite the preat progession in women's rights, I don't think feminism is an archaic issue when a woman is unable to choose the path of parenthood without making great sacrifices for her career when for a man, this is a complete non-issue.

In the same way that I deem their beliefs inaccurate, I am sure that there are plenty of people who disagree with my milder approach. Take the book Jane Eyre, which upon publication caused an outrage for its 'strongly feminist stance'. Now, it is difficult to appreciate how ground-breaking it was from a feminist point of view. This does show how far feminism has progressed, but it is also a great way of highlighting what are to me, the core ideas of feminism, that the roles of men and woman should not be concrete; they should be fluid and flexible and reversed as the individual wishes.

'Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel...they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer'

Label Whore, Yes I Am

Most of my rantings and complaints are completely and utterly hypocritical. One thing I attempted to demonstrate in my Label Snob post is that if you like something, it shouldn't matter where it's from (as long as it's ethically made, affordably priced, of good quality etc etc etc). But you can never say that I've ever denied enjoying a gold ole bit of label whorery.

Imagine my delight when presented with this delightful shopping bag come Sunday morning. Glowing white, bright and labelerific.

The gift was fairly modest, but very much appreciated. You can see how quickly the paint was applied and dried on my delighted nails!

Now I fully appreciate that the level of pleasure I derived from the paper bag the present came in (still on my desk) is highly disproportionate. Does this make me a bad person? I don't think I care...

Not Just a Pretty Face

For all you guys who are still missing Style Bytes after its mysterious disappearance, Detective Pretty Face (who is obviously not just a Pretty Face.... and referring to herself in the 3rd person. Okay, that's weird) has some news for you.

Style Bytes' former writer, Agathe, has had a phiary for several months. That's a photo diary - word morphing, like Brangelina. Click here for Agathe updates.

Happy Birthday To Me

As I write this, it is in actual fact not yet my birthday; one hour and 26 minutes until I am one day older, and one year older at the same time. My parents aren't too big on surprises, spoiling me all year round but rarely failing to disappoint come Christmas or birthdays. Of course, I don't truly mind but as it is, I have already received my lovely birthday presents, which I myself chose.

One of these is the holy grail swimming costume, the elusive item to which I have referred to on this blog.

It's flattering, supportive, inexpensive, my favourite colour; so great that it is featured on the front of the speedo website. It even hides those stretchmarks that my not-so-pristinely-perfect anymore shea butter has as of yet failed to fade.

Which leads me to the point of this post (other than celebrating the anniversary of my blessed birth and introducing you to the holy grail of swimsuits of course). Stretchmarks. Well, not so much stretchmarks as the perceived ugliness of them. Their negative connotations. It appears to me that a stretchmark almost becomes acceptable on women who have been pregnant; seen as a souvenir of the time when they carried their child inside them. but for everyone else, for teenagers or men or anyone else, it is a mark which we should do our very best to eradicate, or at least fade, or at least hide out of sight. It is an unattractive disfigurement, supposedly a sign that you are either fat or used to be. I may not be perfectly happy with my body, but I know that I am not overweight and I know that my friends are not either, and almost every teenaged one of them shares these stretchmarks; maybe not in the same place, the same shade, the same severity but a quick google search shows that I am most definitely not alone.

A stretchmark is a scar. It occurs when the dermis tears due to skin stretching and I have extremely fragile skin which therefore tears more easily. Many other scars are far more accepted by society; in many films and movies the scars of characters are seen as a mark of individuality, even beauty. When you break your elbow and get a raised white scar to show for it, you don't hide it away in long sleeved shirts for the whole of your life, do you? Aren't bruises and scratches simply a way of telling the world about your cool rock n'n roll lifestyle? So why are stretchmarks so hated? I am not going to do a self-righteous turn here and go around baring mine, so why do I hate mine so much?

This post may be perceived as a rant; it probably is. I could go down all sorts of paths now that I've started; stretchmarks are only the beginning. When the whitest of white skin used to be the height of fashion, why do people rush for the fake tan or display such insecurity about baring their white legs without the moral support of a pair of leggings? Hair: since when has body hair become this unsightly thing which provokes such strong reactions of disgust when not waxed, veet'd, epilated, lasered, tweezed and shaved within a millimetre of its life. And of course, the most predictable one of all - weight. When exactly was it that women decided that thin was in and fat was out?

All these unspoken rules of beauty, which I willingly admit to obeying, or cheating (if I know I won't get caught). I will not step out of the house with hairy legs, or if I do, they will be hidden with tights or trousers. Thus, these rules of beauty and not dissimilar to the laws of the land. Why? - a question I'm not going to attempt to answer. So when? When exactly is it that we start following these rules? At what point must be take responsibility for our beauty? The government sets an age, I think it's 10, when a child can be prosecuted for offences such as stealing; any younger and they are not held responsible. Is there such a finite limit with beauty? All I know is that I reached that age a while ago and now I want to know the upper limit; at what age can I go out dressed in purple from top-to-toe (ignore that monochrome is 'in' right now...) and not give a shit what the Beauty Police think? I don't know, but I'm looking forward to it.

Laughter is the best medicine

Clichés normally get a bad rep, but in fact most of the time they're very true. One of my favourites is that 'laughter is the best medicine' and yesterday it was proved correct (in my eyes anyway) when I went with a bunch of friends to see Mamma Mia! It took a lot of persuading, because most of them are either highbrow Guardian readers or restrict their cinematic experiences to Kids AM due to skintness.

However I was determined and in the end most of them agreed 'because it's your birthday'. And we all (well, almost all) loved it, I laughed more than I've ever laughed in a cinema before (more than Dodgeball!) and I've been singing the tunes in my head all morning. As we were leaving the cinema, one of my lovely friends thanked me for making her go, such was the movie's geenral fabulousness. I'm planning on going again tomorrow.

Anyway, in order to persuade every single person who reads this that it is simply imperative that they go and watch Mammia Mia! The Movie as soon as is physically possible, here is this clip of the 'Lay all your love on me' (terrible quality but side-splittingly hilarious).



'Scuse my lack of eloquency this morning, I blame Mamma Mia, which despite all its wonderfulness is not an eloquent movie.

Qué noticias brillantes!

I've had a lovely day today! Gorgeous friends, scrumptious food, delectable movies and exciting plans for my birthday weekend! So what noticias brillantes (brilliant news in Italian, according to freetranslation) to log onto my blog and recieve the delightful news that enc at Observation Mode has deemed me a Brillante Weblog Premio-2008! I love you, enc! Have any of you noticed yet that my exclamation mark use goes into overdrive when I'm a teensy bit excited?!

The rules stipulate that in order to bestow upon others the same happiness that you have just experienced (well, I'm assuming that's the reason) you must choose seven other bloggers to receive this award. There are other little rules too but they're a little dull and obvious. But if you're, like, some huge rule lover, check out Observation Mode's helpful post. Now for the fun part: spreading the love!

Disney Roller Girl: for her genius words of the day.

Mettch: for being super cool.

Pamcasso: because I love her blog, comments , etsy finds and general Pamness.

WendyB: who scares me with her scary combination of beauty, talent, stylishness and mass of in-depth knowledge about inspirational people. Whilst being funny.

Francis Girard: my favourite vintage looks can be found on this beautiful blogger.

Jennine: has an adorable accent, super shop and professional posts of pulchritude on The Coveted.

Times of Glory: whilst boasting a ridiculously enviable wardrobe, she also looks like a super fun lady!

If any of you have already been tagged as brillante weblogs, well that's just a testament to your brillanteity!

Label Snob?

There is a huge number of brands and labels which over the years have been branded as tacky/ugly/unfashionable. There are those which have made a comeback; Burberry, Topshop, Jaeger to name just a few. Yet there are plenty more which remain lurking in the cesspits and reject piles of unstylishness and therefore remain undiscovered by the hordes of fashionistas who refuse to explore. There are even those who claim to be label-blind, shopping in musty vintage shops way before it was cool and braving an S&M shop all for the sake of fashion. However there are still labels and brands I doubt even these daring folk would entertain the idea of wearing, because they're just so uncool. Admittedly, me included. So I had the idea of doing a little bit of exploring, and see what I could come up with which may be able to prove that a label is just that, a little piece of fabric stitched onto the inside of a garment, a label.

I decided to start off with the hardest one I could think of, the notorious shop Jane Norman, famed more for flammable clothing and chavvy bags of this nature than anything a stylish blogger would be caught dead in:


But on further investigation, I discovered a selection of dresses which *shock horror* I actually liked. They have a very Hervé Léger vibe to them.

Next up is a similarly trashtastic label, Juicy Couture, famed as the chosen apparel of gym-going slebs and WAGs. Velour tracksuits anybody?


No? I didn't think so... well how about this stunning one shouldered dress then?


Designers such as Cavalli get a bad name for their ill-advised animal print and permatanned clientele:

But I've always adored their stunning snake inspired jewelry collections, which whilst always very similar are always equally dazzling.

(both Cavalli pieces are available on net-a-porter, you know which one I'd go for...)

What about those brands universally acknowledged as 'frumpy'? Surely they must have something to throw up. Take Phase Eight, more commonly known for mumsy ensembles such as this:

However dig a little deeper and you'll find some insanely over-priced but gorgeous pieces, such as this sparkly lot. Whodathunk it?

And if that lot's not enough to convince you that even the worst labels can house some fantastic treasures, then I bow to you and name you a true label snob.

Finding Beauty

As you may have gathered, the theme I am trying to use as a linking theme on here is beauty. I believe that beauty is something that is present in every nuance of life, and important to everybody including those who do not see themselves as 'interested in fashion'. However I am also writing an offline collection of musings (for want of a better word) which are all somehow related to beauty. I haven't actually given very much thought to how both the hard and online copy will continue to develop simultaneously; there will probably be plenty of overlaps, but on the whole I think the book will be more personal and less conversational.

Anyway, I thought I'd share the first poem in the book which I wrote a couple of nights ago, because it sort of sums up this blog (well I think it does) although might dip in every so often with some new additions.

It's not perfectly polished because I bashed it out pretty quickly and I concentrated on the structure of the poem. The sentences ending in the middle lines isn't me being pretentious (well it is a little bit), I wanted the lines to flow into each other so that although 'In the words of a love song' is what it says, 'In the pages of a love song' is also true. This sort of works for every line: in the lines of ancient buildings as well as intricate paintings, the uniqueness of a snowflake, but modern art too.

Those little deets.

About a week ago, I posted a 'sneak preview' of some post ideas I had. As it happened, life got crazy and in the short time slots I had to write, I was getting so many other ideas which I wanted to write down before they got forgotten. I have to do this; my mind is always full of ideas yet only a small percentage are in any way preserved. But now I have a little bit of time, so I thought I'd expand on this idea which I keep thinking about:

The little details.When we see an outfit, we notice the main features; the beautiful dress, bold hair colour, statement necklace. But I read somewhere that it's the little details which separate you. Healthy hair, neat and polished nails, clear skin, well-ironed shirts, the tiny buttons and pleats. I'd like to investigate this idea further, and see how it has been presented succesfully in different ways.

Let me explain: throughout the week, I keep on noticing creased clothes. There are the obvious suits, rumpled and scruffy in a way that is not one bit bohemian-poet-who-doesn't-have-time-for-such-chores-as-
ironing cool. Simply put, they look horribly unstylish. But I have also taken to noticing much smaller details; a jersey shirt which is wrinkled on the back or a pair of lined shorts. I have begun to wonder; is it just me, or do other people notice lack of attention to detail too?

As I said in the preview, I once read an article which claimed that the secret to looking chic is in those small details, but I'm not sure this is true. Take Jennifer Aniston, who follows all those rules: not a gleaming hair out of place, well-kept nails, nice and straight teeth. Yet I could never see her as stylish, or chic. Kate Moss, celebrated as the epitome of cool (hey, I'm not saying I agree) could never argue that she takes good care of those little details.

But somehow, when my nails are freshly cut and coloured, when my hair has just been washed (properly) by a hairdresser, when I'm wearing some perfectly matched - and hidden - socks, when my dress has a pretty lining and an edgy exposed zip which is naturally covered by my hair, I feel so much more fabulous.

Hello @ 21.22

I suppose I'm cheating a little bit this week, because I'm not quite off to bed yet, but I reckon that's better than missing another week. I'm not going to hve an opportunity to write this later.... so here are my general thoughts which are pretty jumbled anyway because I've just watched TV for almost 2 hours.

-Yes, I do possibly watch a little too much television/film. But I like to justify this by the fact that I stick to the good quality stuff. No Scrubs, soaps or Big Brother for me. Lots of House and pretentious movies. A little bit of CSI. I just watched the whole first series of The Book Group, a very funny little gem which is an extraordinary mixture of laugh-out-loud, depressing and surreal. I was drawn to it after noticing taht the star is Anne Dudek who is amayyyy-zing on House.

-I also think I've been saying amayyyy-zing a little bit too much recently. I've noticed this after spending a week working with someone who says amayyyy-zing a lot, and darling too (almost as much as me!). It's rubbed off on me in the same way that sometimes you adopt your close friends laughs or arguing techniques.

-My posts for the weekend are horribly text-heavy, no images at all. I scheduled a post for tomorrow which also has absolutely no images, thinking I could slot one in today, but I've had no time and now I'm not writing from my computer, soo.... Tomorrow's post, which is an expansion of one of the sneak preview ideas could have easily included some images but there were none crying out to be added. This led me to wonder: do people find pictures make text much easer to absorb? Almost in the same way that food can help soak up alcohol and prevent hangovers? I do know that I find very long articles much easier to read in a newspaper, where they are intersected with images, than online, where I usually give up about 3/4 of the ay through.

If you think is the case, I might add some images to tomorrow's post. But right now, I think I'm going to make myself some fantastic vanilla, apricot and honey flavoured instant tea. Called Dreamtime. Maybe that will send me early off to bed?