plait attack

my very talented, very artistic mother is shit at doing hair. in primary school i had all these grandiose ambitions involving coils of plaits and cascades of ringlets but all i got was a sad ageing rocker meets Jeremy Kyle guest lanky pony tail. well i am reliving my wasted hair youth by embracing the plait. specifically an across the head scruffy braid. makes me think i should be skipping across a meadow, in a long white dress, virginal and sexy all at once.
Point of reference this Narciso Rodriguez ad:
i cant remember who this picture is by but i snapped it in the louvre as plait inspiration....
so my very talented personal hair stylist lisa bonnici (picture editor by day, hair stylist by 6pm), has been plaiting my hair on request for the last few months. here she is admiring her work....
here it is again (but basically this is just an excuse to put this pic up as i kind of love it, bonnici is multi talented - we were on Primrose Hill celebrating Fletch's birthday)....
Lisa upped her game and created a very intricate plait on Friday, will try to find a pic. Rein me in if it ever turns into cornrows though.

feeling blue

Missing my loved ones all over the place...

a beautiful blog

thomasgiddings.blogspot.com

the worst window display in london

i dont know about you but dismembered and decapitated mannequins do nothing to sell me a summer wardrobe...

taking my mind off global warming

To take her mind off global warming and probable extinction Polly the Polar Bear likes to kick back and relax with a glass of rose. She also enjoys reading 'Look' and making lasagne for friends.

Polly photographed by Fleur F.

michael

maybe it is because the sun is shining and i am wearing floral westwood and i finally get to see my darling sister in less than a month but i feel ready to burst with love today. traaaa la la la.... got me to thinking about one of my best friends in the world, the obscenely funny, infuriatingly elusive at times and ridiculously handsome michael and all our many adventures last year. catwalking around the pool with dustbin shields, outside the french house, stalling my car, angus steak house, trike, fur coat, laughing, crying, crying with laughter.



this was the day we went to the wolseley for breakfast and then strolled through green park down to the south bank where we had an impromptu photoshoot... (i was too short to get on the wall)


see you at the usual spot. love you and our many adventures xx

the loveliest man in london

chirel in pret on st martins lane. so sweet.

getting married in lanvin

everyone loves the mini matches...

my best friend since babies when all i would wear is pink, jesse may, striking a pose striking a mini match...


after this we saw a man shouting and kicking the shit out of a tree trunk lying on neal st. he seemed to think it was his brother. or that his brother was in the tree. i am not entirely sure, but suffice to say there was some connection between his brother and the tree. he said he had just been released from prison ('Broadmoor' i whispered to Jess, 'Broadmoor' he announced proudly with a manic grin). and then he told us he was from Portsmouth. Aaaaaah, arent we all.....

3.58am

'U awake?'
if you're going to text me that at 4am and expect me to not only respond but also to be complicit in a touch of phone sex i think you'll find that spelling 'you' properly would go a long way. Plus a kiss at the end wouldn't harm. But not an emoticon.

needs to be reined in

people who say LOL and men over 30 using emoticons. especially in emails/texts which are supposed to be somewhat sexual or even mildly flirty.
so wrong.
learn to spell.
LOL ;-)

two is company...

our pretty intern and i are coincidentally coordinated today. i feel pretty powerful as a duo. reminded me of this...


and the time michael and i both wore identical margaret howell gingham shirts, black trousers and patent shoes . and gin in a can in hand.
there's something fun about being a pair... double trouble

it's the small things

i love these lilliputian matches. so cute, just like animals in clothes.

just hanging and pouting in the double toilet.

Nacho Jenga - credit crunch game. get the cheesy ones from under the stack without disturbing the healthy crap, you know like salsa and guacomole.

the brains behind the game and worthy winner, lisa bonbon.

Just minding my own business and enjoying this mauve jacket. want my hair to match. i love a good jacket, even more than i love double toilets and lilliputian matches but probably not as much as i love animals in costume.

sage advice

DONT 'settle down on the Bicester side of the M40 - it's a social desert' and if in GL6 you had better not 'join the anti-hunting lobby. Jilly Cooper and the Princess Royal would make sure you were sent to social Siberia'.
those are some fucking wise words from Tatler (Oct 08) if ever i heard some. you have been warned.

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

balenciagaaaaaaaaah

AAAaaaaah Balenciaga, i love you. To rip off and butcher some famous Nabokov words, 'My sin, my soul. Ba-len-ci-a-ga: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of five steps down the palate to tap, at five, on the teeth. Ba. Len. Ci. A. Ga'. Well perhaps not my soul exactly and definitely not my only sin but i have maintained an unwavering lust for all things Balenciaga since i bought a bizarre yet beautiful white puff sleeved jacket aged 17. Think sci-fi Tudor in Paris.
I have a ridiculous crush on this shaggy, dreadlocked A/W02 jacket right now. Nicolas Ghesquiere + extreme fringing = aaaaah bliss.

obviously not got enough to do....

just turned around to see my friend holding a ruler up to her head. She was measuring her hair. 1'4" apparently.

*EDIT* betty bullshitter! fleur's hair is only 15inches long. i measured. dont trust a writer wielding a ruler.

*EDIT* mine is 18inches. i always thought if i was a man i would have a huge penis and this kind of confirms it, no??

i want these

Much to my Dear Old Ma's chagrin, domesticity and i dont really get along. However, i am trying; last night i roasted some vegetables and i just bought five halogen bulbs on my lunch break (granted it was an over indulgent weekend and pitch black bedroom which forced these moves but still) . In order to keep the momentum going i feel the need to reconcile my pre- and post-rehab selves. And these are the answer. Since i saw these charmigly naughty David Shrigley (www.davidshrigley.com) salt and pepper shakers i cant stop thinking about them. I need them in my life. I find myself wishing for an MDMA sugar bowl. Maybe I need to be reined in and £70 is too much for a broke kitchen phobe to spend on salt and pepper shakers. But you cant put a price on making your Dear Old Ma proud.

my friend jen's dating mantra for spring....

shit or get off the pot.

bleak

This is why we dont live in Chichester any more. this is how our Easter Saturday ended up, crouched in a carpark trying to find a taxi somewhere between a Premier Inn and a KFC. dont be jealous, i'm used to this shit. Who knew it was Chichester Fashion Week? Catwalk of the Bleak. x (Jess looking hot as always though)