I am addicted to black. I should go to Black Wardrobes Anonymous. I am the woman who buys black dye thrice yearly to ensure all my blacks are equally black and avoid the hell of ‘clashy black’, which looks crap at the best of times, but especially so in Summer. Only science understands the suffering we… Read More “I don’t always wear black, sometimes I wear nothing.”
Forty something evangelists piss me off. Not the sanctimonious shouty types that wave their arms around and claim that Jesus solves everything (He doesn’t. I accidentally smeared silly putty on my pashmina this morning and no matter how many times I shouted “CHRIST ALMIGHTY”, precisely nothing happened until I ran it under the hot tap… Read More “iPhone, iPhone, in my hand, can you get this bullshit banned?”
Fashion, my old friend, you and I need to have a serious chat. I love and respect your gleeful disregard for all that is practical and tasteful, aware that you squealed with abandon when H&M released those ludicrous collaborations with Alexander Wang and Kenzo. I forgive so much of this and more (see: Vetements), for… Read More FFS Fashion, don’t make me freeze my tits off too.
All the to-do surrounding gender neutral fashion and the associated catwalk shows filled with androgynous looking teenagers gazing into the middle distance doesn’t make a jot of fucking difference to me. I simply cannot do unisex.
I wish I could wear flat shoes. I own a glorious pair of Marc by Marc Jacobs Moccasins that are fur lined and feel like I’m walking on clouds. They’re nice for knocking around the house and hitting up the park with my small person, but I couldn’t go too far in them, despite the… Read More Never underestimate the power of a good five inches…