Wednesday, 28 September 2011


Sorry for the ridiculous delay, I had to go to Rome.

But in case anyone still remembers, still cares etc, I DID get a seat at the Burberry show.

But tbh it didn't make all that much difference, I barely noticed the clothes, I was too busy being mesmerised by Anna Wintour.

The woman is fascinating.

She must be some kind of vodoo queen because in a room full of high fashion, supermodels and celebrities, she was the only thing I could concentrate on.

And then she smiled and I nearly fell of my allocated chair.

But forget all that, let's talk about me for a second.

Well more specifically me and Hermes.

I was browsing at the Selfridges branch and by browsing I mean squealing at everything while husband pretended not to know me (it's as if he thinks by being as quiet and invisible as possible he will counter my presence anywhere - as if).

Anyway so let me tell you about the Andre Leon Talley type dude that works there.

Impeccably dresssed and super cool, I wish I had taken a pic.

I was asking if a particular throw came in grey and he said 'do you mean the one in sex and the city'?

And I said, er, no, what one in Sex and the City?

(Apparently there is an Hermes throw in Sex and the City that I don't know about. Oh the shame.)

And he rather dramatically said - looking dapper with a silk scarf tied around his neck - 'You know, in the scene where Carrie is crying in Charlotte's apartment after Big dumps her at the altar - she is wrapped up in it.'

Now, I ask you, where else in the world can you get such encyclopedic fashion knowledge?

Monday, 19 September 2011


I went to the Emilia Wickstead show at my new favourite hotel the Connaught on Friday and today I am attending Burberry in Hyde Park (rumour has it I even have a seat).

On Saturday, I stepped out of my flat to hail a cab to Sommerset House and fell violenty ill on the spot, relinquishing all my tickets for the day.

I see a pattern emerging here and now think I should name rename my blog K & C (and a bit of W1) girl.

Everything you could ever want in life from Manolos to macaroons is located in Kensington & Chelsea, including my office.

And there's even that Saatchi gallery on the King's Road for when you want a bit of culture, though let's be honest, how often does that happen?

I will follow up with my thoughts on Burberry later tonight and let you know if I did indeed get a seat.

I would also like to start a petition to bring Fashion Week back to the Natural History Museum where it belongs. To stop people from falling ill and such things.

P.S Thank you Tats for the beautiful Vogue covers book! It looks super in my living room. Even though currently fighting husband who thinks Syrian Architecture would be a better option. Than Vogue??!!! Don't. Be. Ridiculous.

Friday, 9 September 2011


So I know I just said the 90's are back but do you remember Back to the Future Part II?

Arguably the best Back to the Future of them all. Purely because of all dem cool gadgets...

Well I was screechy excited when I discovered Nike are releasing 1,500 pairs of the trainers worn by Marty McFly in 2015.

Slightly disappointed they are being sold on eBay at auction (ie can't afford) but proceeds are being donated to the Michael J Fox Foundation for Parkinson's disease research, all for a good cause etc..

Tres disappointed the shoes do not lace themselves like they did in the film but whatever they light up, and like most things in fashion, they look good so that's enough for me!

Bids are currently at $5,000ish so get in there....

Now the question is, when's the hoverboard coming out?

P.S Roads...where we're going we don't need roads...

P.P.S Isabel Marant has been causing a stir with her own version. Message is loud and clear. High-tops are in. Heavy. Did I mention the 90s are back?


The definition of regret?

Telling your friend you can't be bothered to join her only to find out she spent hours chatting to male models, designers, X Factor judges and Hollywood stars.

Yesterday was Vogue's Fashion's Night Out, an evening of shopping, champagne and exclusive events at stores in London and yours truly decided not to go.

Why? I wish I even had a lame excuse, like I had to help husband pack for his Miami trip (he's much better at packing than I am). Or I was feeling unwell (does a throat hangover from too many cigarettes last weekend count?)

But no, I decided it wasn't worth being out in the cold (it was warm) the rain (it didn't rain) and the masses (celebrities) to stay in and watch an episode of my favourite Danish crime show, the Killing.

Yes, I'm a geek. Sue me.

Anyway, I was totally comfortable with my decision to opt out until around seven o ' clock when Tweets started coming in thick and fast - Did you see the Dior taxi? The Mulberry pugs? The Burberry band? The Hermes Bangle Bowling Alley?

By eleven, I was literally weeping into my pillow when my friend messaged me.

I expected the usual 'you didn't miss much'. Instead I got 'It was a laugh'.

Ok, a laugh, that's fine. I can handle that.

Wait, what's a laugh?

'It was all very mature' she said 'If you know what I mean.'

No, I don't know what you mean.

'I chatted to Mary Katranzou most of the night' (she's like a way important designer I'm obsessed with)

Really? what else?

'Then I hit Coach, chatted to Tulisa (you know, the new X Factor judge?) Saw Gwynnie, she is so pretty (and skinny and skinny!) but ultimately Mr Gandy was dragging me around - which was cool!
(Gandy, like David Gandy, like D&G model, like OMG)


'You really should have come babe. Such a shame you weren't there'

I turned to husband, wailing that I'm a disgrace to fashion, 'Looook at meeeee! Not even my pyjamas are trendy!'

'Then take them off.'

Eugh. Useless.

P.S How cute is Victoria Beckham's baby girl?? One does wonder though how someone so thin could produce something so chubby.

P.PS The 90s are back. More later. I have yet to discover how I feel about it.

Wednesday, 7 September 2011


I am back from Paris trip after having a great time - with everything in tact but my morale.

But I have picked up some pointers that I think might be useful for anyone travelling there:

1) Expect to be treated like total crap everywhere you. No exceptions.

2) Avoid being in a group of eight girls, people will stare at you like you are aliens from that 'bizarre' place England.

3) Do not wear a mini dress. A female tramp will yell out 'where is your skirt, whore?' outside your hotel.

4) If you are unhappy with your table at dinner, don't ask to move - it won't happen, even if the restaurant is half empty.

5) Booking a table in advance, knowing a hooked-up man in Paris and having the manager on your BBM does not guarantee you entry into a nightclub.

6) No matter how thin or hot you think you are, everyone else is thinner and hotter. Even the transvestites. Especially the transvestites.

7) At the most happening restaurant, don't expect anyone, especially a waitress, to  know the difference between penne and spaghetti. To the French, it's all 'just pasta'. Don't expect soya sauce with your sushi and above all, do not expect that your starters will come before your mains. I have since discovered the reason for this is that 'trendy' Parisians don't eat, so no one has ever complained about the food.

8) You can however expect the bill to arrive within ten seconds of asking for it. Ditto for the credit card machine.

9) If it's raining and you need a taxi - just forget it.

10)  If you do happen to find a taxi, it's highly probable you will get thrown out or shouted abuse at, often for no reason at all.