Posts from June 2015

“beauty in distress is much the most affecting beauty.” // e. burke

when i was sixteen there was nothing, but nothing that was more de rigueur than looking as if you inhabited the darkest of alleyways — a street urchin with well polished doc martens. it was the age of singles, of nevermind, and of looking as if bathing was optional.

you’ve probably sussed out by now that grunge-chic wasn’t really my thing – i was neat and tidy, with a short skirt and a proper fred perry, and okay fine, well-polished doc martens.

however, had you been looking for a properly mangled pair of jeans, and wanted none of the terrible boot-cut versions that were absolutely everywhere at that time; you would’ve headed directly to kensington market, prepared thyself for the deluge of patchouli stink and climbed the steps into the second-(third, fourth & maybe fifth)-hand shops that dotted the streets between the butchers and fruit stalls.

there you would find the well-worn gussets of other peoples’ shredded jeans, your uncle’s plaids from the 70s and your gran’s flannels. my mother would turn up her nose, not allow anything else to be washed along with any item i would bring home; and then i would try and never-ever think about the strange many bottoms that had shared the seats of those jeans.

those were good times/disgusting times?

now, you can still buy vintage, but the prices seem oddly on par to a slew of newly minted garments that are only made to look like they’ve been weathered and worn; of course, the benefit of these items is that yours will be the first arse to be wedged into them.

my question is, will they too be ruined the moment the spin cycle starts?






➝ source : kristensen du nord asymmetric distressed cardigan via farfetch

➝ source : doris distressed tank top via iro

➝ source : jeans via r13

➝ source : striped shirt dress via sea

“my clothes are for the international jet set. they are very much for the red carpet.” // g. valli

aren’t we all just members of the international jet-set?

don’t we all just fly off somewhere gorgeous, sipping on champagne, silk scarves tied about our dos, our convertibles red, as shiny as slick paint –

wait, wait, wait – sorry. the only place we’re flying off to this monday is the supermarket to pick up apples for snacks, and the dry cleaner for our long forgotten clean shirts. it’s a lovely little trip, the one we take whilst sipping on coffee in our cubicles, scanning the latest gossip, whilst feasting on the latest from styledotcom. i mean, there’s no harm in taking a look; that valentino number would be perfect for the next PTA meeting, right?









[all photos via]

➝ source : karen walker

➝ source : marc jacobs

➝ source : msgm

➝ source : valentino

“what is chic is just to be perfect, like magical, no?” // c. roitfeld

i looked across my enormous bowl of pasta in search of a piece of bread the other day, to instead be caught by the view of one of my most favourite people – she of mixed patterns, and deep-sea blue blouses with one shoulder an arabesque of fabric, and sparkled ferragamos; and realized she is the very definition of a word that is oft used, but rarely properly dispensed.

the meaning sullied, it’s the very reason i don’t use the word chic very often – and when i do, it’s usually doled out to be rather tongue-in-cheek. i called her that the other day and could hardly pronounce it, it sounded so foreign coming out of my mouth, but i meant it in earnest.

and then it dawned on me – it’s not about fashion is it? style rarely is; being chic is about a certain kind of magic. an alchemy of fearlessness, a certain joy, and a spirit that can see past the clothes and embody a person.

and that? that is the definition of chic.



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➝ source : flat clutch via clare vivier

➝ source : chinti & parker striped organic tee via net-a-porter

➝ source : adele skirt via vivetta

➝ source : chloé lauren scalloped-edged flats via matches

“living in the past is a dull and lonely business; looking back strains the neck muscles, causing you to bump into people not going your way.” // e. ferber

i had a vision once – and i know how farfetched it’ll seem – but, i saw some version of myself, with a long strand of pearls, being torn away from my neck. loose little baubles on stone, falling away from me. i must’ve been hungover, or still booze-soaked, but i remember it vividly.

though i’m prone to discussing astrology with a permanent roll of the eyes, i can’t deny what they say about my sign. we’re headstrong, we enjoy the finer things in life, we don’t mind a good meal, (more often than we should), and we’re rather protective of our necks.

and then, there was that time – (oh, who am i kidding, i’ve had it done twice), when energy-readers from far-flung soviet provinces were sent in to read my aura. during both occasions, my eyes almost got stuck from rolling so far back into my head, until they both sternly mentioned that i should continue to be protective of my neck.

and so i am. in the prettiest way i know how.

i know i wear too many at one time, but its function over fashion on this one thing – as i’d rather be safe than sorry.





➝ source : stvdio brooklyn margarete pendant via bibelot & token

➝ source : fringed necklace via iosselliani

➝ source : triton necklace via odette

➝ source : nadir necklace via another feather

people take pictures of the summer, just in case someone thought they had missed it, and to proved that it really existed. // r. davies

for the next 93 days, (the length of time until the next equinox), there will not be one day that passes that i will not whinge at the first sight of the weather forecast.

i wouldn’t dare do it out loud, i’m not the most annoying person on earth – but inwardly, inwardly i will be a seething mass of hair that cannot contain its displeasure; soft folds of skin that beg for a cool october, a pleasant gust of november chill – and if all else fails me, the constant hum of A/C.

i read recently in the new york times and in the atlantic, that it’s not only the colder months that can skew your emotional state – summer, can also lead one into sadness and agitation; and it finally confirmed that in this at least, i was not going out of my mind. if there was any one word that better defined my demeanor when the temperatures rise above 22°C, agitated would be it.

steeped in this new info, the only thing i can do is fortify myself and take comfort in the fact that i am not on my own in this summer melancholy.

i can also take comfort in wearing nothing but muslin, and epoxy all exposed parts of me that shape-shift with the weather.

i wish you luck.














➝ source : ever-matte poreless priming perfector via becca

➝ source : 151 frequency dress via a.f. vandervorst

➝ source : double-strap espadrilles via proenza schouler

➝ source : frizz humidity shield via living proof


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