Tuesday, 18 November 2008



Some Like It Fashion

Stylish regards


Wednesday, 10 September 2008

The Spanish harem

Whilst frequenting the towns and beaches of the Andalusia, I noticed that the tourists there seemed to have developed a particular fondness for harem pants. They were everywhere. Wandering on the steep precipices of Ronda, lay idle on the beach at Sanlucar, loitering by orange trees in Seville, drinking amber coloured wine and gorging on free tapas in Granada, watching a shoot out in the wild west in the Almeria desert (yes really) and finally meandering between brightly coloured parasols in Nerja.

Before you cast aspersions and accuse me of wearing harem pants in all of these places, I must firstly assure you that t'was not I, then *waggle* my finger disapprovingly at you.

I first registered this foreign fad after seeing a spate of the said garment in Ronda. It seemed like a good idea (for professional research purposes of course) to keep track of how many I encountered on my journey. During a particularly lovely glass of vino rosado in the Albaicin region of Granada (all work and no play makes Edith a very dull fashionista indeed) I lost count somewhere after 20.

This of course got me musing somewhat incoherently. Few items of clothes are able to divide public opinion so venemently as the harem pant. So why has the harem pant become a hit with holidaymakers? NY, London, Milan and Paris are arguably the fashion capitals of the world and far more trend forward. And yet very few people are seriously seen rocking them on their streets. This, despite the major design houses pushing the look down the runways season after season, a flurry of bloggers discussing their merits month after month and fashion students promoting them in their graduate collections year on year. Thus far the slouchy, dropped crotch trouser that is the harem pant has eluded us, remaining inconspicuous in the street style stakes and failing to be adopted in any mainstream way.

It is obvious to most sane people (please note, I myself to not claim to be sane) why this is. As an item of clothing the harem pant is not flattering. Not in the slightest (mind you, that doesn't always matter - the skinny jean movement it proof of that). At best you look stumpy and possibly flabby, and at worst like a dwarf with elephantiasis. The harem pant isn't all-bad though. After all, they are definitely the prolapse friendly trouser. If your intestine happens to fall out of your arse you are definitely going to want to own a pair of these bad boys (along with a inflatable rubber ring).

However, I don't believe that all of the holidaymakers I saw in Spain have had the displeasure of a vital organ slipping out of place. So by golly there must be another reason for this unfathomable craze!

Another 2 glasses of vino rosad0 I realised there is... And it's simple! The joy of a vacation is that it's a break from your everyday life. You don't have to go to work, clean your house or eat your 5 a day. And that dear Watson is the crucial element to the harem pants winning formula. You see, very few people could wear this style of trouser to work and not feel self-conscious or worse, inappropriately dressed. But once abroad the harem trouser fulfills almost every holiday specification you could ever have. They are a stark contradiction to the normal working wardrobe, they are light and comfortable, and finally they couldn't possibly make you look any worse if they crease in transit. DO. YOU. SEE. THE. PURE. SWEET. FRICKIN. GENIUS. OF. THEM. NOW?

This frankly startling realisation combined with the wise words of Queen Michelle from Kingdom of Style about the harem pant has me convinced that they truely are fashion greatness personified!

"whenever I see ladies rocking these 'difficult' trousers I am simply filled with awe and admiration at their balls for laughing in the face of conventional ideas of 'sexy' and doing their own thing."
I'm now absolutely convinced that I need a pair! These ones from Topshop fit the bill perfectly; they're a bargainous £22. Obviously I won't be wearing them to pound the streets of London just yet, I'll save their first outing until my next trip abroad. But until then I am strangely comforted by the knowledge that should I manage to accidentally dislodge an organ from inside my body in the mean time, I'll be suitably attired to deal with the situation. Edgy with medical benefits? No wonder harem pants are all the rage.


Thursday, 4 September 2008

Autumn/Winter 08/09 Trends

Want to update your wardrobe, but not sure where to start? Need help figuring out which autumn trends are for you? Look no further! Some Like it Fashion is here to help! This questionnaire will help you identify your key looks for the season; because as we all know the many complex problems of the universe can be solved with a simple and clichéd survey:

Which of the following quotes do you most identify with?

  1. Work is like a sport. It's hard and we all want to win. (Harold Tillman)
  2. Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can, No need for greed or hunger, A brotherhood of man. (John Lennon)
  3. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. (Proverbs 31)
  4. I never leave underwear at a guys place because I never see it again. (Samantha Jones, SATC)
  5. I fear being a completely acceptable sheep in society (Marylin Manson)
What is your favourite colour?
  1. The colour of money.
  2. Brown, the shade of the earth.
  3. Traditional warm shades of red and green.
  4. Anything that brings attention to my tits.
  5. Black. Dark black.
What do you have on your i-pod?
  1. A mixture of stuff. Classical, power ballads, soft rock. I'm very eclectic. And clever.
  2. I-pod? Dude, you've gotta get it on vinyl!
  3. What's an i-pod? Do you mean music? I have a Cliff Richard album on cassette. Mistletoe and Wine is a tuuuuune!
  4. Cheesey pop, stuff I can reaaaaally dance to. Britney, Xtina, Girls aloud, Beyonce, they're all on there.
  5. Bauhaus, The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees. I like bands that have black album covers.

What is your theme tune?

  1. Eye of the tiger, Survivor.
  2. Born to be wild, Steppen Wolf
  3. A spoonful of sugar, Mary Poppins
  4. I touch myself, The Divinyls
  5. Ignore the machine, Alien Sex Fiend
What is your favourite part of the body?
  1. My mind. The body is over sexualised by the media. I want to be appreciated for my intelligence and wit. There is more to me than my breasts.
  2. Whoaaah, heavy question dude. I guess my hands. Without them, how would I smoke?
  3. The womb. It gives the greatest gift. That of life.
  4. The schlong. Yum.
  5. Hair. It can be died black.
If you had to watch a Demi Moore film ,which would you chose?
  1. G.I. Jane
  2. One Crazy Summer
  3. Ghost
  4. Disclosure
  5. The Seventh Sign. (It is dark film. Dark is like black.)
If you were an animal you'd be...
  1. A crocodile. They're adaptable survivors. They see what they want and they get it.
  2. A bird. They are free of the politics of our society. They can fly and roam as they please.
  3. A dog. They are loyal, loving and reliable. Just like me.
  4. A monkey. They can masturbate in public and nobody judges them.
  5. A bat. They are black and they like blackness.
If you were a bear you'd be...
  1. A spectacled bear. I want to be taken seriously.
  2. A sloth. Chillax, man.
  3. A polar bear. They are the cutest by far.
  4. A panda. When I have sex it's newsworthy.
  5. An American black bear. Because they're black.


Prepare to be dazzled (and a little freaked out at how spookily accurate I am) . If you answered mostly:

1: Ambitious, driven and tenacious. That's you that is. You work hard and you are going places. Daaaam straight. Your wardrobe reflects your desire to be taken seriously by your peers. You want to look successful yet intimidating. And riiiiich. The super-structured tailoring and sculptural trends are perfect for you. Look to YSL, Balenciaga and Jil Sander for inspiration.

2: Although you may not know it yet, deep, deep, deep, deep down you are a kaftan wearing, incense lighting, peace loving, hairy armpitted, stinky hippy. Yup. Embrace your inner tree hugger this season with Gucci, Hermes and Dries Van Noten. They will let you indulge your wandering Indian spirit with their interpretations of folk (fringing, paisley and embroidery) and tunics and trousers trends.

3: Hear that? Listen quietly. Yes, that. It´s your ovaries throbbing. You see family is your main focus. Either the one you have or the desire in your womb to have one ASAP. Clothes are secondary to this (a very important secondary mind you). This season you´ll need washable items in colours and prints that don't show chocolate hand prints and baby vomit. Tartan is ideal for this, as is the heritage trend with its practical fabrics. Dolce and Gabanna, Vivienne Westwood and Paul Smith should be your starting points.

4: Oh you doity, doity, doity, dooooog. You loved to get dressed up, for well, any occasion. But not to the detriment of your body mind you (you side stepped that whole sack dress debacle unlike the rest of us). You'll love this season's peek-a-boo (sheer fabrics such as chiffons) and tomato red trends. They're ideal for the gorgeous exhibitionist in you. Check out Dior, Giles and La Perla.

5: Black. You love it. You wear it not because you feel safe in it like most people, you choose black because you feel it differentiates you from the masses. You wear it with an edge. If you weren't a goth a school you almost certainly secretly fancied one. Channel your black passion using the lace and soft goth trends this season. Prada, Givency and Chanel will be right up your dark street.


Wednesday, 27 August 2008


I am now out of the blogosphere rocking my Panama hat in sunny Spain until September the 10th 2008.

I will deal with all emails and comments as soon as I can be arsed on my return. If your query is urgent please check back as I have scheduled a post for next week. Alternatively you can sign up to my RSS feed or subscribe in an email below.

Stylish regards


Thursday, 21 August 2008

The allure of the peep-toe boot

One of 'fashion's' greatest strengths is its ability to make us covet things that sometimes at best can only be described as ridiculous. For example, I stumbled across these 'vintage 80s neon leotard bandage onesie shorts' (the sellers words - not mine) on ebay, which are evil for so many reasons. And yet I find that I desire them. I long to touch the stretchiness of this obscure playsuit. It's absurd. But I feel myself drawn to them like a moth to a flame. Excited yet scared by the styling quandary they create. I can remember feeling like this 15 years ago. I was 11 and it was school sports day. I kept thinking that I needed to wee. It was actually nerves and adrenalin rather than a weak bladder. If I win... how will I work a gold badge / Lycra jumpsuit seamlessly into my existing wardrobe?

I feel the same way about the peep-toe boot as I do about the stretch clown suit from ebay. I first noticed peep-toe boots when they began to emerge on the catwalks last winter, I was temporarily distracted by a rather fetching boyfriend blazer though so didn't have time to give them any serious thought. However, I've since refocused my mind because they're starting to surface in stores and have been the topic of many a conversation at work. I have to admit, I want a pair so bad that I am considering going into Browns and licking this Marni pair in the vain hope that the sales assistant will take pity on the mad lady and and just comp me a pair.

Highly unlikely, I think you'll agree (not the licking obviously, the getting a pair for free). So, as I can't afford to buy so much as a button right now (I bid big on the neon onesie) I'm going to use this post as a form of therapy to help me through my shoe grief. It is after all a very wise action indeed for me not to purchase these divine Tory Burch boots from Net-a-Porter.
First and foremost, lets discuss practicality (blasphemous in fashion I know). Boots with holes in! Ha! HAHAHAHAHAHA! That's just asking for trouble given that the worlds population of 2 billion cows have decided to avenge us for eating them the only way they know how, by farting. They release so much methane that they have assured the destruction of the planet by accelerating global warming (it's definitely the cows fault, not ours). This has caused us to be plagued by rain even in August, never mind in the traditional boot wearing season! Feet that have prolonged exposure to cold, damp conditions get trench foot! I know! I'm willing to risk developing a hump back by dragging my enormous and over filled handbag around town; but a stinky fungal infection is quite a different kettle of fish. My vintage clothes hum-ding bad enough as it is, I really don't want to add another layer of smell to the situation. Oh, and don't even get me started on the aesthetics of these boots. The proportions are, well, plain strange. Clumpy and cumbersome.

Lastly, there is a strong chance that the peep-toe boot will be a flash in the fashion pan (like those pixie flats that turned up at the toe - remember those?). Next year everyone will snigger at them and be like "soooooooo 2008". Hmmm? Actually, thinking about it, maybe they will smile and be like "sooooooo 2008" in a good way? Because they are iconic. You know? Instantly recognisable for their sheer brilliance, like the Balenciga floral meets American football collection. And the proportions do sorta work really, dontcha think? A bit like a screwball icecream, odd yet delightful with a weird surprise at the end.

Oh, who am I kidding? I love them. I neeeeed them! I'm not ashamed! MY NAME IS EDITH PURDY AND I LOVE PEEP-TOE BOOTS! Godammit, they look good and I can wear them with my vintage 80s neon leotard bandage onesie shorts so they are practical after all! ARE. YOU. WITH. ME?!


OK, fine. I can live with that. The cheese stands alone. Just promise me that when I'm still wearing them next year and you say "they are soooooo 2008", that you'll say it with a smile and pretend not to notice the smell.


Wednesday, 13 August 2008


Some things make me irrationally angry. Like press releases. I often write this rage off though, because at the time of scanning them I am usually hungry/stupidly busy/plain arsey.

I got the below press release on Monday (it was sent to me at work, not via Some Like It Fashion). On reading it I was incensed. But I attributed that to the fact that it was 1:30pm, the rain was hammering down and I'd just spent the last 30 minutes on the phone to a woman who couldn't grasp that I was not Mary Portas, nor was I in anyway connected with her.


Paris Hilton drops 5 pounds with the help of Pomegranate Power!

Paris Hilton recently caused controversy with her recent weight gain due to smoking pot and eating too much -they say that "Paris gets stoned all the time" and eats like crazy. She supposedly started noticing that her clothes were tight and decided that she needed to give up the herb if she didn't want to buy a new wardrobe. Paris became concerned recently because her clothes have been growing tight and she knew she was gaining weight.…when Paris couldn’t get into certain dresses she loved recently, she decided to give up smoking pot. She has taken to giving up pot and training back at the gym & taking the wonder supplement Pomegranate Power (from LA) to detox & get herself back in shape!


Holy Shoite, I think that may be the crappiest press release I have EVER had the misfortune to read. Even if I weren't hungry/stupidly busy/plain arsey I would still sentence the author to be put up against a wall and shot with shit. The pomegranate link is tenuous, the repeated mention of pot tacky and on top of that it's beyond badly written.

Well, another day another poor PR pitch. I'm off to get a chocolate croissant from Pret before today's onslaught on my in-box begins...


The image shown did not accompany the press release. I used it for illustrative purposes.

Wednesday, 6 August 2008

Return of the crop, once again

Ants always fall over on their right side when intoxicated. Fact. Madonna has no loo roll holder in her bathroom in London. She just stacks her toilet tissue on the floor. FACT. The crop top is back. FACT.

I'll start this session by responding to each of your rebuttals in order.

Yes, they really do always fall on their right side. Google says so - it must be true! And, I agree. Someone as rich as Madge really should have a toilet roll holder. If I had her money I would hire a small dancing monkey to hold my bog roll. I would call this monkey Geoff. Geoff would do a little dance every time I went into the bathroom. Finally, the crop top is back. With vengeance. Actually, not with vengeance. I just like the way that sounds.

You are right to be scared by this last fact by the way. There aren't many things scarier in this world than crop tops. Except maybe clowns. Clowns wearing crop tops.

The reason the crop top is able to induce such panic in us boils down to our perceptions of body image. A nasty side effect of this particular garment is that it emphasises our tummies. Very few people have a stomach that they are proud of. And even fewer of them have a belly that the rest of us would be happy to see habitually. It must be a very bad thing indeed that the crop top is having a resurgence. Right?

Wrong! And I shall tell you for why!

The crop top actually encourages us all to cover up our muffin tops!

How so? That is an excellent question, dear reader. I'm so glad you asked.

The average human being has no problem with wearing jeans that are slightly too tight. They don't tend to worry about a t-shirt that is just a bit too small. This results in many millions of people involuntarily yet frequently exposing their tummy region as they go about their day-to-day business.

I am one of these 'humans'. I wear jeans that create a small, soft (soft sounds better than flabby) overhang (overhang sounds marginally better than spare-tyre). My t-shirts are shit (shit sounds better than cheap) and ride up. This means that at random times during the day my belly just pops out. *POP* Much like a 5 year old child. Although I cringe and acknowledge that this must be very grim for my colleagues, it doesn't prompt me to buy new clothes in order to prevent this happening. For one, I am delusional enough to think that I will lose those few pounds (by doing no form of exercise) that cause this to occur.

And this is where the crop top really comes into it's own. While I can convince myself that no-one notices me constantly yanking my t-shirt down over my gut and that this behaviour is acceptable, I could never, ever, ever make my peace with having my 'soft' stomach on constant parade in the way it would be if I wore a crop top.

But I do intend to rock the crop top look. Oh yessum indeedio!

If the noughties taught us anything about fashion, it's that layering is 'key'. And to make the crop top work, layer it we must! Kingdom of Style has some quirky ideas on how to do this (see the image above) that are definitely worth test-driving. If however you are looking for something a little less controversial (and with less potential for a wardrobe malfunction) then you have a couple of options. A cropped, fitted top looks contemporary over a long t-shirt and a skirt that is slightly longer in length at the hem. Wear with 'fierce' shoes. Team a loose, cropped piece of fine knitwear with a shirt, some high-waisted wide leg trousers and bold jewellery for a sophisticated Marni-esque look. And, if all else fails just throw one on with your skinny jeans and whatever clean top you have to hand. Just make sure it's long enough to cover your belly.


Friday, 1 August 2008

Posts of Note

I do love a distraction from the trend mill that is fashion meedja. Sometimes these distractions come in the form of youtube and a search for 'funny kittens' or 'cute puppies'. Occasionally they are found by chasing small children with sticks. But more often than not they come from reading fashion blogs under the guise of 'work'. Enjoy:


Friday, 25 July 2008

A history lesson in trends

History has taught me so many things about fashion. Black is a constant, nautical and safari are always ‘key’ in spring summer, and hems rise and fall with the economy (this last revelation is particularly apt this autumn as austere calf-length garments that chime with the current talk of recession dominated the season’s catwalks).

One of the most annoying things I have learnt about 'fashion' though, only occurred to me recently. It was while I was in Faith last weekend trying to spend a £50 gift voucher. What I realised is that I am not only a terrible judge of people, but I am also an appalling judge of trends.

Let me break it down for you. Many a time I have met someone that I thought was absolutely fabulous. I spent every moment I could with them. They made me laugh, I made them laugh - I was a funnier, more intelligent, more attractive person when I was around them. However, it too quickly dawned on me that these people were actually crazy, high maintenance, exhausting and self obsessed. My infatuation quickly diminished.

On the opposite end of the scale, I have often met people who seem nice, kind, and genuine but kinda meh. They seem pleasant enough but my sheer laziness and rude nature meant I made little or no effort to develop a relationship. Embarrassingly these people have turned out to be amazing, interesting, beautiful and over time they eventually become some of my best friends (who now mock me endlessly for my initial cold and bitchy demeanour).

These examples quite accurately describe my relationship with fashion trends.

For instance, I find myself acknowledging what turns out to be the 'winner' of the trend bunch. It looks terribly nice and sturdy and classy I think. But I will dismiss it for reasons that are beyond fathoming right now and then proceed to back the donkey of the herd. The best example of this is skinny jeans.

When skinny jeans first arrived on the scene in 2002 I thought to myself "Oh my, aren't they pretty? Wouldn't they look great with this? Oh, and that! And those! They will fit right into my existing wardrobe. I must purrr-chase immediately!".

I was grabbing my coat and purse and running out the door when an evil fashion monkey appeared from no-where and whispered into my ear "No! Wait! Hang fire! Edith - don't spend your money on those! It will be a waste, a one-season 'flash in the pan' fad. Skinny jeans will never go the distance. This is not the 80s. You'll HATE yourself next season if you buy them. Step away. Skinny jeans are DEAD to you!"

And so with sadness I did step away. And now it is 2008 and the fucking skinny jean refuses to die. Kate Moss is STILL wearing them. And of course I had to concede eventually and start wearing them because for a while they were the only style of jean that was available to buy ANYWHERE. And now I am bitter because I could have invested in a pair from the outset and been a 'style leader' or 'early adopter' at the very least. But instead I ended up as a damn sheep! Baaaaaaaaa!

Erm, aaaaanyway. So. I'm in Faith with this £50 gift voucher; I've tried on 8 pairs of shoes and dismissed every pair for being too big, too small, too cold, too hot, blah blah blah. Finally I settle on these:

And yes, you guessed it. That is when I had my 'epiphany'. *Boof*

Way back in 2005 when the gladiator sandal made its first appearance on the spring catwalks, I was worryingly obsessed with having a pair. I scoured the globe (read London) trying to find some, but alas it was not to be. When they eventually dripped down to the high street in 2006 they were being described as 'ugly' by the meedja. Clearly this meant that they were never going to be a must-have! I should NOT invest. I bid them a fond goodbye and wished them well on their journey to fashion oblivion.


Oh, that was me mashing my head into the keyboard by the way. Because once again I completely mis-judged a trend, and lost out on years of good fashion time as a consequence.

I am determined that this will NOT happen again.

And so I got to thinking about Autumn 2008. I thought I'd make a list of potential trends that I don't think will capture the public imagination. That will just not take off! Nuh-huh. Then I will take this list and I will BUY EVERY DAMN THING ON IT. Here is the typed up version of the list...

Trends to ignor
e (errrr, I mean run out and buy into immediately):

Lace: My immediate reaction is that this is going to be sooooo huge in this one season that is can't possibly go the distance. It's the 'new' ballet pump (which as we know did NOT take off). Clearly a 100-meter sprinter rather than a marathon runner. In a few months time it will look dated.

Peek-a-boo: In winter? People will be cold! Transparent fabrics and revealing garments just won't cut the mustard in the wind and rain. Practicality is a paramount concern to any fashionista so this is doomed to fail.

Heritage and Military: Two words. Over exposed. There is a limit to how many brass buttons I can stand the sight of. And over the knee boots - I don't even need to make a snide comment about pantomimes for you to see why they are destined for the sale rack.

So, race you to the shops?


Friday, 18 July 2008

The Modern Eyebrow

Before I get onto the subject of eyebrows, I'd like to start by saying I am really stupid. You see the London College of Fashion Magazine launch I posted about a few weeks ago was nothing of the sort. It was a complete con! A fabulous con complete with canapés and cocktails but a con non-the-less. It turns out that 'magazine' was actually code for 'prospectus' and I was the only person at the party that didn't psychically interpret that from the invite. Hurumpf. Anyway, the reason I'm embarrassing myself by telling you this, is that while at this event I had a defining moment in my search for the perfect eyebrow.

For some time now I have been in pursuit of the perfect 'modern' eyebrow. An eyebrow that is straight and thick and full. The journey originally begun last summer when I accepted a new job, I still had the harsh words of a make-up artist I was on a shoot with echoing round my head 'you have very old fashioned eyebrows'. Gawd dammit! I don't have old fashioned anything if I can help it! So, I let my eyebrows grow for 3 weeks whilst on holiday and had them threaded two days before I started the position. "New job, new shape" was my rationale. The look satisfied me for some time, they were a marked improvement on the dramatic brows that predated them (for which I blame Cosmo and my mam by the way. Both encouraged me to pluck far too young. I lacked experience, style and enough sense to know what I was doing was going to affect my looks for years to come. What resulted was a very Gothic architectural inspired shape that made me look permanently surprised). Eventually though the novelty of my reshaped eyebrows wore off, they were nice enough but they were still no Natalia.

Fast forward a little to the 'magazine' launch. I'm having fun, guzzling the free cocktails and sneering at the hoxtonites. No one would guess that I was in the middle of my very own browgate. I was over 6 weeks in. I was growing out my 'old-fashioned' shape to make way for the 'modern' eyebrow. If you were to sweep my fringe aside you would see the full horror of my situation. I looked (and still look) like I fell asleep in a play-school and was attacked by several million children armed with marker pens and an unusual affinity with Frida Kahlo.

Anyway, it was here while stroking the very in elusive and very long hair on my chin that I had a series of awful thoughts that went something like this - why won't my eyebrows grow as strong and as quickly as the hair that insists on inhabiting my face? What if they never grow in properly? My eyebrows STILL have baldy patches 6 weeks in! It's so unfair! I have alopecia of the eyebrow! As I get older I have less hair in the places I want and much, much more everywhere else. Does it simply serve to amuse Jebus that I have now have hairs in random places like my big toes? (Did I just grim you out there? I grimed myself out a little).

The panic settled in. I tried to disguise it by eating mini toad in the holes but that didn't work because some fucking genius decided to put horseradish on them. HORSERADISH ON PORK? Heathens. Panic was swiftly replaced by nausea and I was forced to put my thinking cap on just to distract myself. What should I do? What should I do to remedy this pickle I had found myself in?

And so I came up with a plan of action complete with contingencies if the unspeakable should happen and my eyebrows *gulp* remain sparse. Firstly, I set a deadline. I would give my eyebrows until just before my birthday to right themselves and if nothing had changed then I would have them threaded to as thick a shape as possible and move onto plan B. Eyebrow thickening products. If they won't grow, I'll just buy the hairy beasts!

My birthday is now less than three weeks away. And in case I need to resort to emergency action I've been trying as many products as possible i.e. as many as my job will allow me to call in without being fired. They range from the very cheap to the inordinately expensive. And being a kind, generous, helpful person I am sharing the best 3 with you:

Lancôme high precision eyebrow pencil: The colour lasts all day and is surprisingly natural. Many eyebrow pencils (Chantecaille's included!) can give your eyebrow an orange tinge and Lancôme manage to avoid that landmine.

Shavata heart shaped tweezers: Tweezing your eyebrows into a strong shape can make them look thicker. These tweezers are part of a mini kit that includes a mirror with 5 x magnification. Perfect for plucking! What I really love is the compact size and the kitsch design. The squeals my friends make when I pull this out of my handbag are unreal. My only gripe is that trying to get the tweezers out of the compact can be a bit fiddly.

Talika eyebrow extender: This is my favourite product by far. You sweep the head along your brow, it leaves fibres that mimic your eyebrow and create the illusion of thickness. Aye carumba! It's quite addictive, that's the only problem. Like pringles. Once you pop you can't stop. And if you apply too much your eyebrows become hard and glossy. A great product if you can show restraint!

So there you go. I have shared my knowledge. If I can save just one person from going through what I have experienced, my pain will all be worth it. *Wipes tear from eye*


Friday, 4 July 2008

Cult style

Two of my very good friends are getting married this year. I am excited about this for two reasons. Firstly, the idea of wearing an Isabella Blow worthy hat. And secondly, the thought of experiencing the joyous moment of seeing people I care about declare their love and commitment to one another in front of family and friends (wow that was a long sentence). But it's mainly the hat thing.

When my friends announced their engagement I always knew I would be donning a hat on the big day. The 21st century really doesn't afford me with enough occasions to wear anything other than a beret on my napper you see. So the plan was to get a massive fuck off hat and sob uncontrollably at the front of the registry office. For many months I have been scouring the globe (OK London) searching for the perfect head adornment. There will certainly be none of this token John Lewis feather fascinator malarkey going on my head! (I would quite like to channel some sort of bird or animal a la Carrie Bradshaw FYI).

However, over the past few weeks I found that this need to wear a huuuuugGGGEeee hat (although still there) has become secondary to sporting a rather fabulous and awe-inspiring hairstyle. A vintage homage to Katherine Hepburn if you will. Picture a thick glossy mane coiled into a croissant shape that boggles the mind with its sheer defiance of the laws of physics! The hat while still important, would not fight for attention with the bouffant, but would compliment it by perching on top perfectly. Of course a trip to the hairdressers will be necessary, but that's OK because it signifies that I truly am a grown up. (I remember when I was a child and attended weddings with my mother, that on the morning of such an occasion the 'ladies' went to the hairdressers had their hair pinned up while I busied myself smoking candy cigarettes)

And then this morning I read this. And it suddenly occurred to me where this hairstyle that I envision so vividly, that has slowly come to fruition in my mind over the past few months, had unconsciously been sparked from. The Polygamic cult in America! GAH!

Is this how it starts? First I like the hair? Then I start buying the clothes they sell on-line? And before you know it I've moved to Texas bought me a bible and become a fully blown member of a cult?!

Unsurprisingly, this is not how I see my life going (who wants to dress in polyester and have only one tenth of a husband?). So it has come to pass that the hat will after all be victorious over the hair (which will be left au naturelle). This however, brings up a very different problem that has nothing to do with God. Where does one find a beautiful hat that every high-street department store hasn't done a knocked off version of? Ebay is the obvious choice, but frustrated after hours of trawling their site and being outbid at the last minute *shakes fist* has lead me to decide that I want to splash out and treat myself.

So, after spending far to many work hours on the internet clicking endlessly on links and looking at some horrendous eyesores, I finally hit gold. Rachel Trevor Morgan has an amazing selection of hats, fascinators and hairpieces that suit all ages and styles. Young, old, conservative, exhibitionist... We are all catered for! And while this is not what I envisioned wearing to my friends wedding, I am particularly fond of this black number that is reminiscent of Dior's New Look. Because if I can't have the hair of that era without looking like a bible-bashing cult member at least I can have the hat.


Both hats shown are from Rachel Trevor Morgan.

Tuesday, 1 July 2008

Shop it to me!

Have you ever done that thing? You know that thing! Where you are wandering aimlessly around a shop just killing time until you have to either return to work or meet a friend, and then suddenly you see it. The dress/skirt/trousers/top/jacket/shoes/bag (delete as appropriate) of your dreams! That item that you know you were meant to be with!

You become breathless, your palms are clammy and your heart is racing. Your forehead starts to bead with sweat as you grasp for it. In the deep, dark depths of the piece of coal that is your fashion heart you know that you are meant to be together as one. United you will fight crimes against style!

Already deep into day-dream mode, you are picturing your long and happy future together, how you will introduce it to your fashion friends and family, and by golly how your daughter will squeal with delight when you can pass it down to her (not that you have a daughter yet mind you). Oh, you are so sure of this love that you feel ready for serious life long commitment.

Then while reaching for your purse and running towards the till you happen to glance at the ticket. And that is when the most awful thing happens. It stops you dead in your tracks. Chills your blood. You are screaming on the inside “WHY JEBUS WHY? I AM GOOD PEOPLE! WHY MUST YOU TAUNT ME SO? WHY PRICE THE REALLY GOOD STUFF OUT OF MY HUMBLE REACH?”

A quick mental run through leaves you with the following options:

  1. Nick it (you aren’t a very good runner though, especially in today’s shoes and you simply CAN’T GO BACK INSIDE AGAIN)
  2. Sell a non vital organ like one of your kidneys (but you suspect that by the time you’d organised this the store will have sold out)
  3. Sell a member of your family (however your klan are a sensitive bunch and so you anticipate that they may be a bit mad at you).
Deflated and defeated, feeling isolated and alone, you meander from the store in a haze. You have a lump in your throat and your insides are knotted. You were sure that dress/skirt/trousers/top/jacket/shoes/bag (again delete as appropriate) was the one. All the magazines say that when you meet your soul mate you just know because you feeeeeeeel it inside. You finally understood what that meant. It wasn't supposed to end that way. *Sniff*

Oh, it’s a real pisser when that happens, isn’t it?

Well, this shall be no more! No, no no no no no no NO! And it’s all because of the very clever people from Shop it to me.

Shop It To Me is a free service that tells you when the stuff you love goes on sale. All you have to do is register (which only takes a few moments) and involves you picking your favorite brands (there are more than 500 to chose from including Prada, Banana Republic, Tory Burch, Marc Jacobs…), and inputting your size preferences. Finally you select the frequency that you want to be alerted (daily, weekly or monthly). Shop It To Me then emails you when a label you like goes on sale in your size. And fret not non USA citizens! There's even the option to only select retailers that ship to your country. HUZZAH!

So now there is nothing more for be to do, but sit and wait and check my email obsessively. Because I know that I shall be rewarded for my patience. My soul mate is coming. Good people, start making way for the glorious Alexander McQueen blazer! Halle fricken lujah!


Monday, 23 June 2008

No ears and no tails!

Today I am a big (5'2" is big in the grand scale of things, OK?) ball of lub. Lub lub lub.

You see my sister has just gone into labour. Her husband called to say the plug had 'come out' (I'm not sure what this 'plug' is but I have a feeling I really don't want to know. Sounds icky). So, with the arrival of my first niece imminent, obviously anything fashion related in proportions small enough for a sprog is getting me whipped up into a right ole frenzy. Tis the bringing together of two of my greatest lubs. Lubs lubs lubs.

So, as you can imagine, I was especially excited when a lovely box containing this landed on my desk this evening:

Anything that isn't an anti-aging product (frankly, I'm starting to find it insulting. Are people trying to tell me something?) or boring press release about bikinis is a very welcome change. But a sample relating to bambinas, well, what with sis about to explode, it's guaranteed to get me all riled up (in a good way of course). Ohhhh, the squeal of delight I made when opening the box and discovering this 'orange' hat was audible all around the building.

Now, a friend of mine once said to me that her friend (I promise you this story isn't going to end in an urban myth type tale where everybody dies and the killer licks your foot whilst pretending to be your pet dog and then writes a chilling message on your wall) had a rule about clothing for her children. Nothing with ears or tails was permitted. Now, I think this is a RIDICULOUS rule. Where is the fun in your friends and family having children if you can't put them in comedy outfits and convince them they are the very animals that they are dressed as? I have very fond memories of a friend's kid who on being presented with suitable attire became convinced that he was a monkey. He proceeded to howl in such a manner for over a week, even whilst at school. It was comedy gold.

Anyway, in the event that my sister decides to adopt this 'no ears and tail' rule, it's no biggie. I can be down with that thanks to the good people of Cob Web Knits. Now, these hats could be perceived as a leetle bit freaky in a cabbage patch doll kinda way, but they are also veh veh cute. I can already envisage my niece rocking the lemon hat (yellow is sooooo this season dontcha know) this summer. And it is something delightfully different to present to my sister that isn't the standard gift-voucher, baby grow or a bib (that says something hilarious and equivalent to 'I'm a boob man'). Buying one of these is securing my place in the baby's memorable gift hall of fame. And isn't that what we all secretly want? To gain/buy the unquestionable love and admiration of another's child so that we can teach them naughty words and gestures and in doing so annoy the shit out of their parents? HELL. YEAH.


Cob Web Knits is a family run business based in rural Dorset, which means that they get the Some Like It Fashion sustainable seal of approval!

Monday, 16 June 2008

A trend for all seasons

Fashion has a reputation for being ‘fast’. For swallowing up trends and spitting them out. We’re constantly being reminded that frivolous fashion-orientated consumer spending is destroying the world. Yet in spite of this, the seasons ‘looks’ have become oddly predictable. While some trends become fads destined only for revival every few years, others have longevity and become fail-safe wardrobe staples.

This is great news, because in these such uncertain times when no-one can decide whether we're in recession or not, this offers some hope of spending a little and wearing a lot. So, as the title of this post suggests, lets take a look at the guaranteed trends, one for every season of the year:

  • Spring = Nautical
  • Summer = Safari
  • Autumn = English country
  • Winter = Sequins
If these only seem vaguely familiar, it's probably because every year meedja fashionistas' love to give these 'classics' a different name. It's an attempt to trick you into thinking you are wearing something completely different to last year. For example, nautical has had various incarnations over the years, riviera style, sailor chic, regatta promenades and naval style. Safari also answers to military or utility. English country translates to heritage, tweed, weekend retreat, highland fling and (my personal favourite used in 2004) good wool hunting. Finally, sequins are also known under the aliases shimmer, metallic or glitzy glamour. Trueeeeeee fact.

While the fashion message may stay the same over the years, the way we deliver it does not though. Yes, we wear the same four looks annually, but each time we style them in a way that makes them fresh, timely and contemporary. For example, in spring we wore our nautical stripes and sailor trousers with simple, bright clashing coloured accessories (preferably yellow, orange and purple). This season's safari is all about soft layering using chiffon and silks to offset the traditional heavy cotton fabrics. When the leaves fall from the trees and the autumn arrives this year we will be wearing our tweed and tartan at calf length and contrasting it with lace. And when winter eventually draws in and the sequins come out, we'll be layering them with a variety of different fabrics to create interesting textures.

So, if history teaches us anything, it's that for the foreseeable future these four looks will still be dominating the catwalks and our wardrobes. Do you ever wonder why this is though? I think that Jess Cartner-Morley may have hit the nail on the head when she said this about the safari trend:
"The longevity of safari as a look is due to the fact that it has nothing whatsoever to do with dust tracks or looking at animals through binoculars, and absolutely everything to do with looking as if you are on a very posh holiday".

YEAAAAHHHHH! Money talks, baby. All of these trends represent cash. And, well while grunge is transient, wealth is enduring. Fashion, being the caring, considerate industry it is has (perhaps) surprisingly become the modern day Robin Hood. Taking from the rich and giving to the poor! Obviously in the form of achievable trends that represent an aspirational lifestyle rather than chests of gold of course. But still, I applaud the effort. Are you managing to follow my mad rambling train of thought? You see, if I wear nautical inspired apparel it means I have my own yacht. Yah! If I clothe myself safari style this means I take exotic expensive holidays. Tally ho! Wearing tweed means I have a country manor retreat for weekends away shooting clays and entertaining aristocracy. Rah! And well, sequins mean I can afford to buy all that glitters! Gold, diamonds, rubies, emeralds. Jolly well spiffing chaps!

So, while Vogue may be trying to confuse me with their talk of pale denim, painterly prints, and Americano this season, I ain’t buying it. It will become redundant so very quickly. And in these financially worrying times, that won’t do at all. I’m going to stick to what I know will serve me well; money. And for summer fashion that translates to 'big game'. Sure, I can’t afford to go on an actual African Safari, but I can don a safari jacket and stalk the streets of London. The national park of Kruger actually has more in common with the UK than you might think. Both have thousands of wildebeest loitering at watering holes. Sly hyenas on the look out for an opportunity to snatch a prize, groups of baboons making arses of themselves. And of course, both have shed loads of 4 x 4s driven by the rich.


By the way...

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