All dressed up...

You may or may have not seen this post in its original form, entitled testing and at various stages of its existence featuring tiny photos, pixellated photos, and finally this. I am very proud, because I have finally figured out how to re-use pictures in my picasa web albums on my blog. SO economical - I have only used up 6% in almost so many months... well not quite, but you know...

However I suppose I have to be economical in one way, because in terms of completely unneeded evening wear, I am happy to splurge and acquire as many unsuitable dresses as possible. Almost a year ago I was willing to spend £50 on a dress (it was in sale!) for its sheer beauty and impracticality, as well as the fact that it reminded me of one of my favourite films. It doesn't matter that I haven't yet worn it; I am still loathe to spend a couple of pounds on some decent socks, which I wear every day.

Fortunately I have come to the decision that being all dressed up with nowhere to go is indeed a sorry state of affairs, and with nobody I know willing to go and get married so that I have somewhere to wear a posh frock, I am just going to have to accept that I will be grossly over-dressed and wear one of my posh frocks to the theatre. No you did not just misread my sentence, I did say one of my posh frocks; plural. Because not only do I own the evocative £50 bargain, but two other equally all dressed up dresses although these are slightly more excuseable since they were free courtesy of the old stock in my lovely aunt's dress shop. Nevertheless, I am faced with a problem. On average, I find myself with enough courage to take the plunge and go out 'grossly over-dressed' around once a year. But I have three options to choose.The first is the one I actually paid for, justifying my purchase with ideas about dressing it down with thick tights, a black top underneath and some chunky black boots (plus it comes with a detachable slip which ironically I've actually worn loads!). Yep, that failed. Still, there's a chance this dress could be saved from the realms of eveningwear and converted to extra-special daywear, on account of the slightly less dressy material..

The middle dress is the one I have had the longest, hence is the most neglected. It is also the single big-brand that features in my wardrobe, other than spectactles and nail-polish, which I don't think really count. It is... whisper... Burberry! I could also go around with the label sticking out, which would be quite nice too. On the downside, this one is the only one to have been worn out, in public, when I went to see a film 'grossly over-dressed'.

The last one is my most requent acquisition, which suggests that maybe she should get a quick airing, before she becomes stale. Don't ask why this is the only dress with a gender, perhap it's the fairy-like quality which makes me feel like she isn't quite right for the dirty and polluted city centre on a chilly winter's day.

So here I am, all dressed up and not quite nowhere to go, but not ENOUGH places to go. I think I'll just gaze at my pretty dresses a while longer and try to forget the misery. Maybe you could help me choose?

No Place Like Home Part II

I realised that if I don't write this now, I doubt I ever will, because I'm so absolutely terrible with intentions to write something. If I don't write it immediately, it will probably never get written and if I stop halfway, it will probably never get finished. Case in point. Nevertheless, I shall try to write it down.

The month which has just ended, August, was an unusual month in some ways. One thing which stood out is that in 30 days I slept in two big cities, one beach town, one seaside village and a countryside area.

When I was much younger, I used to dream about living in the countryside; being allowed 5 dogs and my own mini tractor to drive around the fields. Then I got a little older and since then I've always been determined that I'm an 'urban girl', most at home in a big city where there is plenty of fashion and a million and one things to do every night. But recently (and that's very recently, as in this past month) I've enjoyed swimming in the sea so much, and floating on boats in the night, and relaxing on the sand. Before my seaside holiday I hadn't been swimming in over a year, because I hate swimming pools so much.

And then I came back from my holidays and sat at home with nothing to do, so I rang my friend and we just went out into the city. We spent a whole day just doing all the things which London has to offer, and having a great time. I got home and thought that maybe the seaside and the countryside are just holiday pleasures and I am an 'urban girl' after all... oh how that phrase makes me cringe.

Liv has the answer...

Am I seeing double? One of these photos of Liv Tyler was taken in 1994. The other was taken 14 YEARS later in 2008. That's right, YEARS not days, or even months.

(I think jealousy of Ms Tyler might be more acceptable than of a doll..)

Spammering

I am ashamed to say that looking at my blog archive and seeing:

September (1)
August (25)
July (28)
June (33)
May (42)

I feel a sense of alarm, a disappointment in the lack of symmetry of it all. Of course, the whole thing can be justified; in May I was experiencing an acute attack of verbal diorrhea on starting this blog, realising I had a whole lot of ideas to write and a whole lot of revision to avoid. Then June and July, with relatively normal post counts, since I was always hoping to hit around the 30 mark. August's decline can be explained with my two week holiday, where posts were only scheduled for every other day. And September, well it's only the 2nd and this is my 2nd post. Nevertheless, I don't want there to be less posts this month and so I thought I might as well do a little spammering. I'm not even sure if that's a proper word but it basically means I'll take all the advertising requests I've had and put them up. I'm feeling virtuous. Besides, this may actually be useful to somebody, as well as making my blog archive count more 'beautiful'...

Lensshopper.com - a guide to contact lenses online. I think I might have received this one on account of this admittedly unusual post.

www.fanatiquefashion.com - Fanatique Fashion is a combination of a blog and an online magazine. A place for in-depth fashion writing and general creativity. The site is completely self funded and non profit. Embarrassingly, I haven't actually got round to checking it out yet but it could be interesting.

Abazias.com - a diamond shop. Probably as a result of one of my jewelry/jewellery posts. They probably forgot to read the bit where I mentioned that I'm not a huge fan of diamonds!

http://www.storeadore.com - Store Adore is a guide to
the best shopping boutiques in major US cities, complete with store profiles, customizable shopping maps, and discounts. Store Adore is described as ³Zagat meets Facebook²- a shoppers encyclopedia of top boutiques written by locally based authors from cities such as New York and LA. Store Adore is a girl¹s best friend when it comes to advice on boutique shopping, and a wonderful resource for travelers as well as locals.

212DRESSINGROOM.com and 212/BLOG an online boutique that creates an innovative merger of editorial content and online retail commerce. The 212/BLOG is written for the progressively minded fashion community, and was created to promote fashion and art from a New York perspective. Content is added through live feed daily highlighting industry news, reviews, and commentary with a glamorous edge. The 212DRESSINGROOM.com boutique will make its official launch in Fall 2008. In the meantime join the coterie of fashion eccentric contributors for the launch of the 212/BLOG .

Jealous of a Doll...

Today is my final day of freedom before going back to school. I know that as of tomorrow, I will have to start working properly if I want to do well. I hope that I will still have time to blog and comment as per usual at first, but it will probably take a while before the backlog of work which is sure to accumulate will start to go out of control but anyway...

So, on this last day of freedom I have decided that I will determinedly do nothing. This has allowed me time to think about my weekend trip and realise that perhaps a lack of mental stimulation has left me a little crazy; I am jealous of a doll.

Actually, two dolls: France and Marianne. These are the two dolls which I saw yesterday when in Windsor, visiting the Windsor Castle. If you want a full background of who they belonged to, why they were given to them etc etc and etc, you can find the history of France and Marianne here:

The Royal Collection

All I can say is that these two royal dolls have a more stylish wardrobe than anyone I have met in the flesh. Their jewelry is Cartier, and their clothes are made by couturiers including Lanvin, Louis Vuitton and Hermès. What most impressed/made me jealous was ensemble in particular, which was based around a leopard print fur coat. I have previously written of my desire for one of these, at least once. These damn dolls not only have a leopard print coat, but matching gloves, hat and a bag. I am only now beginning to realise the absurdity of my envy, but I shall try to justify it to you with the only pictures I could find of France and Marianne (not only are their wardrobes extremely covetable, they are also very exclusive).

The Golden Ticket

Today I am going on a last-minute trip one night/two days trip to Windsor. We have got tickets to Legoland and Windsor Castle; part of me is excited about Legoland because I loved it so much when I was younger, and part of me is also excited about Windsor Castle because I did love Buckingham Palace very much when I went last week, and they have to be sort of similar. I am also excited about using the gym and swimming pool at the hotel. All of this excitement illustrates the magic behind a ticket.

Tickets are often very ugly, plain and uninteresting (although the Buckingham Palace Summer Opening of The State Rooms ones are creatively adorned with a crown watermark...) but they always seem to provoke so much excitement. A few days ago I bought a ticket to a festival, which I will not receive for almost a year. Purchasing this ticket did not thrill me in the slightless; I was left uncertain and cold, because I'm not even sure if I'm going to go, or if I will sell said ticket. Maybe this is because I do not have a physical ticket to hold?

In my previous post I mentioned a couple of times a recent purchase I have made. It was a ticket! One of my greatest passions has always been the theatre; I could ramble for hours about the magic and the beauty of a theatre performance, which may even exceed the magic of a ticket. So you can imagine the magic that occurs when I get a ticket to the theatre, to see a thing of very great beauty.


I'm going to see Rain Man at the Apollo Theatre, and although I am sure it will be a very good play (Adam Godley is Olivier nominated you know) I have to say that the prospect of some theatre magic is not the only source of my excitement.

my, what lovely lips you have

A few days ago, my friends and I headed off to the hell that is Oxford Circus solely for the purpose of buying my birthday present; some lip cream from the beautiful beauty shop that is B never too busy to be beautiful, (is that a record for the number of mentions on 'beauty' in one post? i must be getting back on track...) formerly located on Carnaby St. We got there however, and it was gone! Shut down, for sale! I was devestated.

On the beautiful sunny day that is today, my fortunes took a turn for a better. I was with one of the previously mentioned friends and we found ourselves near Covent Garden (more on WHY later!!!!), and I had a vague notion that BNTBTBB is partnered with Lush and I knew there was a Lush there, so we made a deal that if she could sunbath in the park for an hour, we could go to Covent Garden.

And lo, we found the shop! We went downstairs and entered the most beautiful Aladdin's cave of cosmetics.

You see, I don't just love this shop for the top-quality, long lasting, stunningly coloured and moisturising lip cream. I love it for the decadent decor, the fantastic shop assistants (they're all so friendly) and most of all the charming, charming packaging.

My lovely gift resting on the Southbank.

The lip cream lasts forever so my lips are still prettily pink from the sample therefore I haven't yet opened it. But I know that when I do, I shall be faced with this delight (that's gold leaf, and yes my box is that colour!):It's the Pretty B Lip Cream, what an apt name! And the latest reviewer is also a fair-skinned redhead so I can rest safely assured that it will flatter my skin-tone. How happy can some lip-cream and a certain other purchase (not clothes related) make a person.

I promise, I wasn't paid to write this post. Although it would have helped after my recent little expenditure.

DELETE

NOTE: I've noticed that lately this blog has become a lot more general... I'm not sure if I like that or not and it hasn't been purposeful but I might purposefully try to move it more onto a material path. But it's always much more fun feeling like you're a little more profound than the regular person ;)

I'm keeping this post up because I'd still like reflections on the note, but I've taken the rest down because I've decided that I was in a contemplative mood and wrote some completely meaningless and badly expressed 'pretty ponderings'. It wasn't good quality writing, don't worry you haven't missed anything exciting!

Introduction to Austen

I have only read three out of Jane Austen's six completed novels; Emma, Pride & Prejudice and Sense & Sensibility so maybe I'm not really one to talk but anyway...

I have recently introduced my younger sister to the world of Austen through the 1995 P&P miniseries. Upon discovering that Wickham had become engaged to Miss Mary King, who had recently inherited £10,000, my sister exclaimed:

'But I thought Wickham was a respectable guy?'

Introduction to Austen, introduction to life = same thing?

No Place Like Home Part I

There are many well-known phrases to do with home. 'There's no place like home', the line immortalised by Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz; 'Home is where the heart is' or alternatively 'haart is where your home is' (haart is a UK estate agent); according to Ikea, 'Home is the most important place in the world'.

There were two things I wanted to explore when thinking about the home, so I decided to split them up into part I and part II. I have lived in the same city environment my whole life and I wanted to think about what my home is, is it my environment (city, countryside or seaside...), the country I am in, the people around me, or the actual physical house I am living in? This thought brought out so many ideas that I found it impossible to put them into one coherent post (I have always had this problem, I've never been stuck for an idea but often been stuck with how to articulate it, and then I have to leave out a lot of what I have to say...couldn't this be a whole new post in itself? Possibly). So in part II I'm going to write about all that. Now I'm going to focus on the one place which I am sure is 'home' and one of the main things I miss when I leave 'home'. My bedroom. The original idea for the docorating of this room was actually my mother's mine I've had a great time adapting it to fit the room's colour scheme and my own tastes. One wall is a dark red, the other three cream.

(a couple of these photos have already been posted on this blog)

clockwise, from top left: old photo of my bin and one of the three drawers under my desk crammed with STUFF. My wardrobe; I love it more than the clothes inside, it was an ebay bargain. Photo which has already appeared on here of my radio and a wasp, although the wasp is dead and the radio isn't plugged in because it's so fiddly I still keep it on my windowsill (the radio not the wasp). My cork noticeboard which is completely full. What you see here is my calendar which I NEVER use because it always falls off but I think it's quite pretty; it's posters from completely obscure films noir. A corner of a huge wall-hanging from India which takes up one wall. My beloved bed which is wrought-iron and painted white alongside my ballerina pillow, which indicates my secret and lifelong desire to be a ballerina. Floor-level shot of the world under my bed, full of shoes and slippers and ladders; you can also see the little wheels on my bed.

I am still a little surprised by the amount of reds, oranges and browns in my bedroom when they are least favourite colours to wear. But I suppose a grey, navy and black room wouldn't be very welcoming to sleep in. I see these warm colours as comforting. The other side (not literally) of my room is full of softer colours such as pink and purple, and plenty of crystals windchimes and candles as opposed to retro calenders and radios.
Again, clockwise from top left: my bedroom door, accessorised with a wooden hanger and a beautiful top which unfortunately looks terrible off the hanger and therefore is used for decorative purposes. The little alcove, which houses these cushions and also a huge pile of clothes etc which were cleared away for this photo, is that cheating? Photo I didn't post from a set I took of the dead wasp (RIP) hanging on a crystal which hangs from my window; I love the way it catches the light. A random chain of colourful birds which I think I got ages ago on holiday, because I loved the materials. A painting (is it a painting?) which although a little bit silly has a lot of sentimental value, hanging above my uncontrollably messy bookcase. a dreamcatcher/windchime from the days when the incense stalls at Camden Market were my favourite hang-out, and I had bad dreams which needed catching.

Maybe this is home?

PS I have to again ask you to please excuse the terrible quality of the photos; after temporarily upgrading from the awful point-and-click, I am now left with 3.2 megapixel camera phone. Life..