Sunday, 24 July 2011


I have been whisked away to celebrate one year anniversary in beautiful-but-currently-rainy Venice.

So am holed up in hotel room waiting for the skies to clear.

I haven't been here in about ten years and had completely forgotten how magical this city is.

Walked around for hours crossing canals and getting lost in picture-perfect streets lined with art galleries and Venetian masks.

As much as I assumed a gondola ride would be a total cliche, when I took one yesterday, it was so romantic I suspended disbelief long enough to pretend I was Angelina and husband was Johnny Depp in The Tourist....

Until 'Johnny' gave me a present.

Unwrapping with glee, I wondered excitedly what could it be... an LV scarf? a lace blouse? La Perla lingerie?


An apron....

He bought it at the souvenir stand, apparently.

When I asked what on earth possessed him to purchase such a 'thoughtful' gift, he said it combines his two favourite things in life - food and naked ladies.

He's so modern, my man.

P.S I did also get an amaze pair of snakeskin gladiator flats to go with... So it's not all bad. 

And now I can walk around confidently wearing a body like Angelina's without doing any exercise...

Bring on the carbs, I have my  miracle apron!

Wednesday, 13 July 2011


Bionda Castana is my new obssession.

Not just because it's the brainchild of one of my favourite people, the sublime Natalia Barbieri. Cos it is. And not just because I have a shoe named after me. Cos I do.

But also because these designs are like no other. Swear to god.

When you are fed up with your twenty-five million inch patent platforms and in the mood for ladylike, elegant, stylish, timeless beautifully-made heels, these are the babies for you.

They are like stand-alone pieces that you work your outfit around.

I get like a gazillion compliments everytime I wear a pair and am about to receive my leopard-print wedges. BEYOND excitement.

And when I saw images of the new campaign, I just HAD to share. Stun.

Check more out at

Tuesday, 12 July 2011


I admit I am lagging on the blogging.

I have an amazing ability to start thing with great enthusiasm and then. Stop. Is this human nature, pure laziness or ADD?

I once saw a fortune teller who told me I am someone who starts projects and then delegates and that I should be proud to do so.

Admittedly, this was at a nightclub in Las Vegas so it's entirely possible she said something else completely.

Anyhoo, with less than two weeks to go before my holiday, I am back on my Dukan diet.

So after food replaced fashion for a while, fashion now is replacing food again.

It's not so much that I am hungry. It's more that after planning my life around meal times, snack times, binge times and booze times, there suddenly seems like an awful lot of time.

Thank goodness for Couture week.

There are only three shows, in my opinion, worth boring you with. No1 is by far and away my favourite - Elie Saab.

To quote the weirdo in Pretty Woman, 'everyone who comes to Hollywood has a dream, what's your dream?'

My dream is to own an Elie Saab Couture gown.

No one actually knows how much these works of art cost. A friend of mine went to visit the Paris boutique and was told the most simple of wedding dresses starts at $50,000.

One can only imagine the horror of the price tag for an intricately beaded dress.

But I am a believer in the motto 'ask and ye shall receive' so I'm hanging in there (and have bought a lottery ticket every week since the jackpot was announced at around £36m, that should be enough for a dress or two.)

So, look at the goods and tell me you are not up for auctioning off your soul to the highest bidder in exchange for an Elie Saab.


No2 is Givenchy, have new respect for Riccardo Tisci and hope, hope, hope he is the new man at Dior when they announce a successor in September.

And finally, my favourite dresses at Valentino.

Monday, 11 July 2011


My lovely mummy is in town and took me shopping over the weekend. Love her.

In Jimmy Choo, I tried on a pair of nude patent super-high platform peep-toes:

Me: Do you like them?
Mother: Yes.
Me: Don't they look slutty though?
Mother: Yes.
Me: Great, I'll take them!

Sunday, 10 July 2011


Gucci girl

A taste of the wardrobe of Rosie Huntington-Whiteley. See it and weep. Weep hard.
Armani candy

In Michael Kors

This is an Alaia!

Saturday, 9 July 2011


I was having drinks with a friend of mine the other day when he paused to 'admire' a woman walking down the street.

The reason I put admire in quotes is cos he was blatantly staring at this girl like she was the Second Coming.

'I love sundresses', he said, drooling over his watermelon Martini.

Another reason why I hate summer. The sundress.

Ok, let's say for a second that you are blessed with the body of a Victoria's Secret model.

A sundress in London? Pur-lease.

One day last week, I walked out of the house in my ballerina flats and almost melted in the blistering heat. The next day, determined not to be caught in the same predicament, I wore a pair of tan gladiator sandals to meet my friends for lunch. It rained. They looked down at my feet pityingly, like I couldn't afford proper shoes.

So let's not even start with the perils of a bloody sundress. Oh, alrighty, lets.

No1: work appropriate?! I don't think so. The day I saw my friend for drinks was a Tuesday, why was this woman not coming from the office? What was she doing wondering around in a sundress on a weekday. Clearly, she's an idiot.

No2 When a gust of wind blows, which it inevitably will, you will reveal a flash of Spanx, Bridge-Jones style underwear, or your ass. None of which are acceptable. Unless you are Marilyn Monroe, and let's face it, it's unlikely that you are.

No3 When it rains, which it will, you will look stupid and who wants to look stupid?

No4 Just when you think it is ok, like at a barbecue, at a private house, where you will spend minimal amount of time, things happen, like you have to sit on the floor.

It's uncomofortable, un-lady like, bugs crawl all over you and then you stand up with grass marks all over your legs or sweat patches on your brand new sundress that you just had to buy cos your moronic friend told you to.

Now let's remember that you don't have the body of a supermodel and you never lost the weight you thought you would lose by now. The problems have only just begun.

The sundress. The porn of fashion. Invented by men, for men.

Friday, 8 July 2011


Ok, so she divides opinion.

There is the 'she dresses like my aunt' camp.

And the 'what exactly does she do camp?' and finally the, 'I love her hair' camp.

Well I am in the 'she-can't-put-a-foot-wrong' camp.

She is very pretty but not ostracisingly beautiful, elegant but not trendy, charming but not an extrovert.

I love that she is normal.

And that she wears sheer tights. I thought my mother was the only person in the world who did that.

Mostly though, I love that I look at a low espadrille wedge in a whole new light now.

And she plays it safe exactly the way a British Royal should. Sensible. Beige. Muted. Like the Queen.

Which, during the nauseating era of Lady Gaga, wags and reality TV stars, is refreshingly reassuring.

Here are some of Kate's great wardrobe choices (Oh and happy birthday to Diana who would have been 50 today and very proud of her two boys *sniff snifff*):