There Ought To Be More Dancing

BAG LADY

2012-01-11T22:37:00.005Z

I couldn't bear to part with these trousers as the fabric is too incredible. Floral AND cord? Sweet heaven.

So I had a go at making a tote bag. First project with the sewing machine bought for me at Christmas, presumably because my Mum had paled at my giving my sister a hand decorated trench coat for her birthday a few months earlier. I admit it took a bloody long time.

I had to go for a slightly smaller size than A4 to use the best bits of the fabric; this is good though, as I wanted it to be for 'everyday' but not for carrying work or anything like that. Managed to salvage one of the pockets too, so I fixed that on one of the seams left from the original cut. The waistband made a really simple strap and I positioned it diagonally so the bag will sit more flush against my body - a must when you're cycling around and don't want it dangling at your elbow.

Bro

2012-01-11T19:41:00.003Z

About three years ago, when I was only just learning to knit, I designed and made my brother a mobile phone case. It was black and red and simply said 'Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha' all over it, at his request. (He was very keen on the latest Batman movie at the time.) A mere three months later - despite his current phone being still box fresh - he purchased a new one he liked better. As teenagers are prone to do. One that was a completely different size.

The case became a relic.

Ever since, he has dropped hints not even at all subtly that he would like the case re-knitted in a bigger size.

Well... I didn't find it that fun to knit in the first place. Sorry! Selfish of me, I know. But these projects take time, even if just a few hours. I have to feel that they're worthwhile.

At least another phone later, he owns an Apple one and had complained the plastic case was dull and slipped regularly out of his hand. He's in university at the moment and attends a lot of fancy dress parties, if his Facebook photos serve me well. Hence I decided to make a case that incorporate this interest. Basing it on the Pixel People available here, I made a cross stitch that resembles me and him together at one of those parties, who we would most likely pretend to be. I then glued it into a plastic case with a whole heap of grip to the sides. No more throwing your phone across crowded bars, little bro!

Last Christmas post, I PROMISE. I did make a small reindeer hat for a child but it's cool, you can just imagine. Go ahead.

Get chuffed, Dad!

2012-01-04T15:42:00.004Z

My Mum asked me to knit my dad a tank top for Christmas whilst simultaneously trying to convince him any time he perused them in stores that he couldn't possibly want to own one.

Luckily, it paid off.

Deck The Halls

2011-12-19T12:07:00.006Z

I daren't have tried persuading my boy to go halves on a tree (he calls upon his Jewishness particularly hard at this time of year...) but I also couldn't resist decorating just slightly.

So, I knit fourteen of these little blighters and strung them together. I already had lots of red wool left over from other projects (this one included.)

Darren referred to them as 'The Mitten Parade' after I'd tacked them up. I liked that.

MY FAVOURITE OUTFIT

2011-11-30T16:44:00.001Z

No, not some contrived photograph of me standing around in a quirky ensemble that proves I know how to clash colours and patterns adequately. Instead, this is my friend's band and their really rather good single. Me and my favourite person and some other folk we kinda now all lent our faces to the video.

OUTFIT - Two Islands from Versus on Vimeo.

What sound do bunnies make?

2011-11-26T22:38:00.002Z

For information, slippers seem silent.

I made these from this pattern but I should have felted them a little longer, I fear. Felt first timer. They're perfect, but not as rigid as the pattern photographs suggest they should be. I'm taking this as an excuse to another pair for my mother in white.

Good Plaid

2011-09-16T12:47:00.003+01:00

I guess there ought to be more dancing, but lately I've mainly been writing on this new blog amongst friends. Let me know what you think, you little lovelies.

My Boyfriend's always telling me to get my ass out the window.

2011-08-04T11:35:00.004+01:00

It's not that I purposefully put it there, but I will wander around near enough starkers without a second thought for closing curtains. Perhaps he knows better than I do what perverts are capable of, but I just highly doubt someone's gonna keep a keen eye up at the window in case a tush comes into view for a second or two.

I once showed a teen my tits a few years back but I hardly think it ruined a day.

SEQUIN GRAFFITI

2011-08-04T10:57:00.004+01:00

Has there ever been a finer concept?

These pieces call Reykjavik, Iceland home - which is just another reason I'd like to go there when my current lusting for a spanking by the sunshine is sedated. Where the heck's our Summer, hey? Now, back to business:

Found these here, which is coincidentally one of my new favourite finds blog-wise.

Update: Vintage sequin collection? Oh sheesh, a new obsession.

Freddy Fruitcake

2011-08-03T10:28:00.012+01:00

You'd think I'd never seen a baby in a bin before.

For the record, I jumped out of my skin with a heart beating faster than Zach Hill on excessive e-numbers as I had only recently seen Psychoville for the first time. I was also alone in an alley. Anything could have happened (I stand by this.)

So I said "Oh, what the math!?" out loud and leapt left before realising, you know, I'd probably be okay. Not my proudest moment...

Mac and cheese, please.

2011-07-27T10:29:00.004+01:00

I've had a Macaroni Cheese craving for about six months now but can never usually warrant eating so much full-fat milk and cheese. I'm usually about as many vegetables as I can cram into my body in one little sit-down. But last night I used three types of cheese, some french mustard and sturdy pasta to stodge out my insides and podge out my belly.

I FEEL GREAT!

2011-07-27T10:00:00.000+01:00

‎'In the Hollywood of the late 1940s, it was a fad to listen to someone talk seriously about something, and then say "Oh, shit" in a normal conversational tone without changing your expression.'

- Noted within The Girl Who Walked Home Alone by Charlotte Chandler

Forget Wugazi

2011-07-14T10:30:00.002+01:00

This is Boogazi.

There will never be a nicer thing.

2011-07-11T16:46:00.001+01:00

SUNDAY SLOTHERY

2011-07-11T13:50:00.004+01:00

I was only out of my pyjamas for two hours yesterday and spent the day reading papers /knitting sweaters. I had both of the above made for me and consumed every single calorie.

Thank you for my fried breakfast and my halloumi honey oat bread with three bean soup, homey.

Tree of Triple Dates and Tears

2011-07-11T10:31:00.004+01:00

Badlands will forever be one of the most evocative representations of that cusp between being merely a kid and longing to have your emotions taken seriously. I occasionally feel like I'm still stuck there now. So, we had to go see Tree of Life as soon as it came out, as a rare Malik-flavoured treat to the eyes. It certainly was that. No matter what Marmite effect this movie has produced in viewers, it is unarguable that the cinematography is second-to-none. The wealth of footage he then cultivates each narrative moment from (particularly in the first few moments where your emotions are tinkered with like the tinkling score of the debut I so much adore) illustrates that whilst he may take his time to produce each item in his filmography, he's hardly one for slacking. I felt slightly cheated only when the occasional beautifully constructed woodland scene was marred yb inclusion of CGI dinosaurs (largely unnecessary, in my opinion - although one particular encounter between a pair of them illustrated the Grace vs. Nature argument eloquently)

Jessica Chastain was beyond elegant, almost as if a Wendy to the Lost Boys of her children. And as for her dresses, well...

Two other couples we knew were heading into the same screening, us unintentionally triple dating. I suppose it qualifies why you're friends if you all think entirely the same as to your Friday evening plans. Hopefully the other boyfriend's didn't get wasabi pea in their eye (latest excuse for teary peepholes; the last was "that tear came off your face and onto mine")

I would say it wasn't as excellent an idea as we'd hoped because the level of engagement needed meant I fell asleep as soon as we got back home to our couch and had to be undressed for bed by boyfriend. That, and it was kind of like heading to Starbucks for a coffee and going with the tallest one available, hoping there'd be more to it but ultimately ending up with a syrup you can take or leave once the initial froth has dissipated.

The Office

2011-07-07T13:19:00.004+01:00

Yesterday, my boss began incorrectly using the phrase "I'm just wazzing* this out there" on a far too frequent basis. Today, a colleague seig heiled during a team meeting.

This is my life.

*To 'have a wazz' is slang for urinating, just so you're in the know.

SLICE WHERE YOU LIVE LIKE PIE

2011-07-06T16:10:00.003+01:00

We're contemplating moving again. I'm scared of how many things there will be to find boxes for (temporarily) and new homes for (permanently). How much can I get for my materialism on eBay? Or is the market saturated with the stuff during this financial climate?

Image was found whilst browsing here.

Everything I Have, 2008 By Simon Evans. (Pen, paper, scotch tape, white out60 1/4 X 40 1/8 inches)

FIELD OF DREAMS

2011-07-06T14:43:00.004+01:00

If only someone had enough time to create a fake sweater on Photoshop that wasn't real and then break the heart of an innocent young girl on the internet who finds it - not knowing straight away that magic hasn't happened - and is all "MY DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE." ...Oh, they do?!

I broke my heart for a second, here.

Today I am wearing:

2011-07-05T15:09:00.004+01:00

A red calf-length satin pencil skirt from Hobbs and an athletic blue t-shirt from American Apparel.

So, yes, I have accidentally come to work looking like I fashioned my outfit from Superman's costume.

I hope Seinfeld's got my back because rolling my sleeves up slightly to reveal "my guns" is fooling nobody.

MY FAVOURITE TV DADS

2011-06-23T11:40:00.004+01:00

are the ones most like my own.

Everyday Clothes

2011-06-22T15:41:00.003+01:00

I used to make clothes for my Barbie dolls out of scraps of material I salvaged; I particularly recall altering a Quints* sleeping bag into a super tight pencil skirt because my doll had a fashion show in a matter of minutes and times were tough.

The below put me to shame.

These items look beautifully intricate before you even consider they're actually quarter scale replicas. In the post-war period, such a practice was occasionally used with couture garments to save on costs from materials and for transit (as these smaller mock-ups used less fabric and thus weighed less for shipping).

All the details were there for the buyer - who would probably have been wholesale companies - to view, hand-stitched elegantly. I love the idea of the dainty replica fastenings (those buttons!) and that ultra tiny pleating. You could have the best dressed midgets in the mansion.

Information on the images:

1. Cocktail dress and jacket in fine wool with polka dot silk
Christian Dior (1905-57)
V&A: T.18:1, 2-2007

2. Day dress in pleated silk tussah
Jacques Fath (1912-54)
V&A: T.19-2007

3. Dress

Jean Desses

4. Evening dress in silk jersey
Madame Grès (1903-93)
V&A: T.20:1-2007

Found these: here although I also believe they may still be on show at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London.

*Upon discovery of this website, I have become hysterical.

I appear to now be summarising said 'road trip' thus:

2011-06-15T16:15:00.005+01:00

"I'd hoped we'd see loadsa deer dicking about amongst the trees but instead we just shared a venison burger and counted up the roadkill."

First road trip of the summer.

2011-06-14T21:22:00.006+01:00

Last weekend, we went to RockNess at Loch Ness and found out we were nesh*.

Reason for not reporting on any of the festival? It was really rather pants; much preferred the drive. Shall secretly rename it CockMess.

*Whilst we walked around in beanies, fur collars, sweaters, the locals proceeded to not only not wear any pants but pee in places where I certainly wouldn't risk being crackers to the wind. Toilet queue for me.

THIS GUY

2011-06-08T11:54:00.002+01:00

Up until relatively recently, I'd walk past this fellow every day on my route home. He was right opposite my house thus almost signalling the end of my journey, but I think there's more to the fact that I entirely adored him than that.

Hey, you!

Pretty inspirational, eh?

2011-06-06T19:54:00.003+01:00

A friend of mine is taking a year off work to cycle from London to Cape Town to raise money and awareness for street children. It's entirely self funded so every penny raised goes to charity. Bloody amazing.

You can donate here, should you wish. You can also join them on the first leg of their journey to Brighton and there's far more info on their website.

YOU BEAUTY

2011-06-03T10:46:00.006+01:00

Coveted Lace, in varying degrees of unaffordability.

If anyone happens to have the funds/inclination, I first say 'you lucky fuck' and then disclose that the pieces are (from top) Imitation Molly Maxi Creme Dress available at Bona Drag, ASOS Salon Lace Shift Dress from ASOS, 3.1 Phillip Lim Hand-embroidered hairpin-lace top from Net-a-porter and Erdem Margot Lace Dress also drooled over at Net-a-porter's location.

I wish we would never sit still.

2011-06-01T13:41:00.001+01:00

Inspiration for whilst we're all so lively and won't pipe down. I wish this could be my holiday.

Rapha Continental – The Movie from RAPHA on Vimeo.

Found on their website, which gives lots of information about how awesome they really are.

I wish we could stay in one place.

2011-06-01T13:32:00.003+01:00

If I knew I'd never have to move home again, this is what I'd do.

The Library from Sergey Stefanovich on Vimeo.

Found here.

2011-05-30T14:28:00.002+01:00

Today, I turned Bon Iver tickets into vintage Chanel shoes with the help of my glamorous assistant, eBay. Anxiously waiting both the latter's delivery and any subsequent challenge to my powers that Jesus wishes to bring. I'm ready for you, our lord. Hit me.

Noticing a trend...

2011-05-27T23:25:00.005+01:00

NOT VERY POLITE, BOYFRIEND

2011-05-27T00:14:00.000+01:00

The corridor slunk between the rooms feeling used, merely a point from A to B, never a friend. Barely decorated, rarely considered, sparely cluttered and fairly alone. The kid in class that lumbers between conversations laughing on the edges and trying desperately to join in despite suggested invisibility. Rooms form relationships, their walls get knocked through. The corridor - as ever - stands aside.

Perfect Need And Perfect Completion

2011-05-26T22:05:00.004+01:00

The weather certainly doesn't realise it's May so I feel little oddness in admitting to making these two in the last month or so. I mean, I've had to dredge my winter coat out from the 'still requiring dry cleaning' pile and wear it around in its crumpled "I spilt tea on this, didn't I?" beauty.

The deep pink of the scarf is one of my utmost favourite colours and it's in a moss knit that lends it a lovely texture. And as for the mohair mittens: I've just always wanted a pair.

In other news, I saw Sufjan Stevens a week ago today and still can't stop daydreaming about angel wings and trippy visuals. Lucky bastard having both those following him around.

Fringe Benetwit.

2011-05-25T10:14:00.003+01:00

As someone who accidentally gave myself a miniature fringe a week before a good friend's wedding, the incident is luckily raw enough to persuade me out of giving a tape trim a try.

Found this beauty, here.

Crumbs.

2011-05-24T14:16:00.004+01:00

There's been too much worrying lately. I don't know where I'm going and my boyfriend has known he's been heading towards the most busy weekend of his wee life. So, once we'd made it through that one, it seemed only fitting he come home to a giant Oreo I'd made whilst he was away for three days.

It's double stuffed, too. Tastes just like the real thing. Pride tastes like Oreo.

Memorial

2011-05-17T19:38:00.003+01:00

We held a remembrance ceremony for my colleague today because his funeral had been held pretty far away. There was so much laughter amongst people's sadness so it was entirely appropriate for a man thought of so fondly for his witty manner. My favourite anecdote was when the lift doors unexpectedly closed on him mid-conversation with another man; gentleman continued on with his work, and then suddenly (after the [now deceased] man had travelled up a floor and back down again) the doors opened for him to resume right from where he'd left off in his characteristically laconic fashion.

He also apparently thought up ridiculous proverbs which he'd then transfer into latin, the most memorable of which meaning: "An owl in a sack harms no-one."

Hot Wire My Heart

2011-05-05T20:11:00.005+01:00

I didn't really get Alexa Chung... I appreciate a girl being able to dress stupendously well but I like it to be coupled with a little more (humour/humility) which isn't really demonstrated when someone's enviably skinny frame is plastered across magazines mutely present at endless fashion frivolities.

And then she said in this month's Vogue:

"I saw a picture of myself at a Mulberry event last year in LA. I had a really deep tan and long, slightly blonde hair. And I just wondered: who are you? Terry Nutkins?"

Which not only made me burst out laughing, but also reminded me of the time I had a 'Really Wild Show' leaflet folded up at playtime when playing The X Files, forming an FBI badge with Terry's face in the picture slot.

Just as I hadn't thought I'd ever hear the words, "That's not David Duchovny, that's Terry Nutkins", Chung has proved equally surprising. I love when that happens.

Finding things you'd forgot

2011-05-05T16:41:00.005+01:00

I didn't remember having made this card for the boy on our first anniversary but that's because it was a long, lonnnng time ago (to be read like I'm an old lady looking back)...

It turned up the other day amidst every note I've ever left him. Hoarder.

2011-04-26T13:21:00.006+01:00

Someone with a real dry sense of humour and lovely temperament passed away this weekend; I had to take the call today when his brother let us know. Completely coincidentally, I found photos of the above exhibition online a few hours later, about memory and memorialising.

I now want to cover his office entirely in crochet cobwebs.

R.I.P. D.O.

"And this one goes out to all the Moms out there."

2011-04-20T16:46:00.006+01:00

There's been no babe in my vagina but I can relate.

Tina Fey's Prayer For Her Daughter

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

(Source)

Pop Quiz

2011-04-19T15:43:00.003+01:00

Sometimes I wonder why it is that I'm socially awkward...

Other times, I seem to know.

2011-04-18T16:36:00.004+01:00

"Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence."
Richard Yates

Workshop for Potential Literature

2011-04-14T13:03:00.005+01:00

I've been reading a lot about the Oulipo lately; a literary group who impose rigidly invented structures on writing. Almost imposing a box for themselves to them to not so much think outside of but stretch themselves outside in.

Some favourite ideas...

Poems written with syllables that spell out your dog's name, reader unaware (so that the pup's interest is picqued when the right word following another sounds the same as his given monikker).

Beautiful outlaw (belle absente) : A poem which may not include the letters from your loved one's name, for whom it is written.

A novel called X20 (more thoroughly explained here) where cigarette cravings and chapters co-habit.

Now I'm finishing up 'Jealousy' by Alain Robbe-Grillet where the 'absent' narrator occupies every scene without making much of a mark or reference to himself, but watchfully and enviously suspects(and thus notes) that his wife seems to be falling in love with someone else. It's fascinatingly done.

Barriers in the way of writing no longer seem like a wholly negative notion. Perhaps they will eventually encourage the imagination to sprout.

HOME IS WHERE THE HAIRLINE CRACKS ARE

2011-03-28T16:01:00.006+01:00

Everything's been so dull lately, hence my not writing.

Well, exciting for me - just not particularly translatable. But it's involved lots of moving in and interior design, both of which I feel any infrequent reader of this rubbish little blog would find a waste of their eyes. And I'm no Kevin McCloud so I'm sure you wouldn't want me to witter on in writing about loft living. When it's more homely, I will put up a couple of pictures to satisfy that urge and then we can all move on with our lives, eh?

Meanwhile, a Miffy obsession festered last week after I read an interview with her creator, Dick Bruna. I'm a sucker for genuinely humble and delicately talented individuals. This video shows the process of making each deceptively simple image:

Oh, hooray!

2011-03-28T15:28:00.006+01:00

A pay day.

Plus, new high street rip-off the Louis Vuitton shoe I'm (still) coveting.

I like seeing what's struck me as particularly glamorous successfully achieved on a lower budget/greater scale. That slender, slightly pointed front and block heel combo could easily have looked hideous throughout every parred-down attempt. Hence my obsession that it has become otherwise.

Bad Boyfriend Bunting

2011-03-10T16:25:00.003Z

As a little "Surprise! You're in trouble" when he gets home.

'Rad Boyfriend' Bunting, on reverse.

Kid.

2011-03-02T14:47:00.001Z

I only just found out about this documentary soon to be released about New York Times street photographer Bill Cunningham! Unbelievably excited.

Humble, talented, rides around on a Schwinn and calls everyone 'Kid'. What a dreamboat.

Diagnosis

2011-03-01T15:15:00.005Z

A chronic case of 'the shys'.

To be treated by alcohol beverages before all social gatherings (must be administered on an empty stomach)

Blanket Brigade

2011-02-21T17:09:00.004Z

I keep meaning to post a photo of the blanket I made for Christmas (or indeed any posts of quality at all - apologies, reader).

Well, here's a start anyway.

The colours fade from dark brown to light brown, then onto golden and orange, right up to red. I thought it'd be more like leaves but it's instead like fire.

Lately, I'm like this.

2011-02-21T17:03:00.006Z

"I'm haunted a little this evening by feelings that have no vocabulary and events that should be explained in dimensions of lint rather than words.

I've been examining half-scraps of my childhood. They are pieces of distant life that have no form or meaning. They are things that just happened like lint."

Lovely words above are 'Lint' by Richard Brautigan.
'Obsession' is by me (or Calvin Klein, depending on what you're referring to).

The Curve of Forgotten Things

2011-02-08T13:29:00.003Z

Elle Fanning: Rodarte's Muse on Nowness.com.

Rodarte clothing, Richard Brautigan influenced titles and Terrence Malick influenced footage? My heart just skipped a beat.

Incredible showcase of the Spring 2011 collection by Todd Cole.

Family Familiarity

2011-02-02T14:06:00.010Z

My sister and I have little in common apart from mutual respect. She's the definition of 'meek and mild' which, in many's eyes, makes me purely wild.

Dreamt the over day that we were hanging out together in a stilted fashion - me knitting, her flicking through a magazine. All normal. I informed her that 'this wool isn't quite what the pattern suggested so it's a bit of an experiment to see if it would work.' She was interested, she nodded. We continued.

Then, the mitten was completed. Slipped it over my hand. It was huge, an oven glove for a giantess. "Whoops, didn't quite work!" I said light-heartedly. "Aaah, no it didn't" she responded.

"WELL, YOU'VE NEVER TRIED TO KNIT A MITTEN" I, of course, then blasted with the voice of a demonic being. Of course. The perfect end.

...Might be a bit more going on there than it let on, eh?

Things I've found out this week:

2011-01-28T13:50:00.004Z

The Charlston works pretty well with a little Dafting up.

I want to be proposed to in a really socially inept manner over toast. 'Propoast'.

I'm homeless from my Birthday. (Rectifiable.)

Go ahead, make my day.

2011-01-24T12:54:00.002Z

I've entered an Elle competition to win an internship and - having just asked my friends to vote for me and turned a delightful shade of beetroot - I thought I may as well throw it open to THE INTERNET as well.

My entry is here.

Worth a shot, eh?

Now's The Only Time I Know

2011-01-24T10:35:00.000Z

Carven's Summer 2011 collection is definitely the best I've spied yet and I've had my eye on this rucksacks since November (as a useful everyday bag more so than a beautiful dress is within my current 'needs')

But I alas cannot wait any longer for it to hit stores. Carrying all my belongings around in flimsy canvas totes has long since dulled me right off.

So, I've asked for the below Collina Strada beauty for my Birthday... which is two months away, but my Mum always buys early. Real early.

It's not got any of the tan suede/leather qualities I was mostly lusting after but is instead a versatile plaid - being dark and not too overpowering in pattern - with leather 'wing' like elements that remind me of Vivienne Westwood/Melissa shoes I coveted last year. The straps can be used for rucksack usage or pulled through the top so you can sling it across your body (I LOVE this.)

For a girl who does her bags in until breaking point, this one especially appeals because I think worn-in edges, slight fraying, home made repairs will simply add to its character.

Fingers crossed...

Win some / lose some.

2011-01-21T23:54:00.003Z

The overwhelming smoothness of my Wolford tights resulted in disaster a few days ago when, whilst rushing down the stairs after being promised a cheese toastie, I slipped and smashed the two ceramic mugs I'd been carrying. That weren't mine, that were my boyfriend's Mum's. Tea: everywhere.

I headed to M&S to replace them today before she returns from a cruise (for the record, I had to settle for something similar rather than a replica so am still fearing wrath).

Noticed as I passed the shoe aisle that they've very successfully replicated Louis Vuitton heels from last season in a wearable/affordable fashion... so I'll let them off.

There's The Beef

2011-01-14T15:18:00.001Z

I didn't know about this until now and I'm always interested in knowing where the beef is.

IT'S OVER

2011-01-06T10:59:00.002Z

Oh so sad as I managed to finish my sweater in time but am still so psyched about how well it turned out that I wish I could keep on wearing it. Already planning to recreate in a more all year round colour to cushion the back-on-the-hanger-you-go blow.

Nb. Please ignore my bizarre grimace in this photo. I couldn't have been less ready.

Babe, I'm on fire.

2010-12-21T11:11:00.004Z

I dreamt that after knitting Darren's blanket in full, raising it up above my head with weakened arms, it was handed over to him only to resemble little more than a crop top.

I declared myself saddened at having misjudged his height and he said "Oh, it covers my nipples and that's all I need."

Current

2010-12-17T14:29:00.004Z

Favourite thing to look forward to in Spring:

TBA ensembles like this, please.

Favourite newspaper story:

Drug felon uses religious belief in Seinfeld's 'Festivus' to procure meals twice the price/standard of average. Voila.

Favourite Dance:

Special mention to The Bad Seeds in the 'Do You Love Me?' video Darren's newly obsessed with.

Favourite poem:

Please note these are all only valid for this week due to fickle natures.

KNITTING WITH FIRE

2010-12-15T13:54:00.010Z

I put my long-planned Christmas jumper on hold to work on a blanket for boyfriend, all six foot four inches of him. It's taken a while, not least because the pattern recommended a discontinued wool dyed in Chile that was nigh-on impossible to find. I ended up having to import various balls from across the United States. It's in varying shades of browns up to golden oranges through to red. Not in stripes, but with each colour gradually brought in. (I shall photograph it properly, once it's done.) Knitting from underneath it, I'm beginning to feel like I'm being burnt alive.

It's making me want to buy some of these to go with it.

I'd phone him up and start my conversation with "I speak to thee from beneath the bonfire."

A New Low.

2010-12-15T10:34:00.001Z

Saying "light saber" when I meant 'life safer'.

Second Hand News

2010-12-07T14:09:00.005Z

Susie at Style Bubble has posted about an ASOS Salon range due in Spring / Summer and inspired by vintage threads and exquisite detailing. My tastebuds are salivating.

Fingers crossed it will be like a treasure trove of affordable Prada, if there could ever be such a thing.

I Want The Quiet Moments Of A Party Girl

2010-12-06T18:33:00.010Z

I'd fallen out of love with nearby charity shops lately. I used to wander round them far more often during my lunch hour but whether due to a shift in what people considered donate-able or poor luck on my part, I hadn't parted with any pennies on such jaunts in a while.

All that thankfully changed this weekend and thus I present to you:

The perfect plaid calf-length skirt. Elegant with angora and woolens all Winter; bit teachery until you lap on the red lipstick.

Drawn 'The Goonies' poster in mint condition

'Rumours' on vinyl which I have for some reason never owned (except for the entire cassette re-recording of it Lowana and I made on a Fisher Price tape player last Summer)

I'm patting myself on the back as we speak / I type and yes, I shall be using that as an excuse for any typos. I sang along - badly, for I can't sing - to Rumours this morning, advising Darren before switching to side two that the 'Grand Prix' portion of The Chain was his cue to rev up and get up outta bed.

Loaf to love you, baby.

2010-12-03T14:57:00.006Z

My Grandma gave me her bread maker a while back and - as my parents are coming to visit this weekend - I thought this would be a prime time to trial it. After kneading the dough, I was ready to slot it in to cook at optimum temperature like an incredible microwave of sorts and only realised upon checking the manual at this point (not at the start, you understand: only now) that I could have just bung all the ingredients in straight off. I could have had it easy.

So of course, out of BLIND ANGER I then baked it in the oven. That will show the break maker that I could do this without his help, THANKS.

The distinctly average result tasted fine with the last bowl of homemade sweetcorn chowder.

Wasabi peas and cups of tea.

2010-12-01T14:47:00.004Z

My current favourite ways to stay warm.

I have also been wondering if burqas come in fantasy fur.

WE USED TO WAIT

2010-11-29T15:11:00.007Z

I like pretending the Arcade Fire song is about eBay purchases... that anxious longing for them to finally arrive, to be utterly as you've hoped.

Current cause:

Cruisin'

2010-11-28T15:47:00.004Z

Found this very detailed plan in a bar on Friday and my jaw dropped to the floor.

What bars to visit, in what order, and how long to stay.... and best remind yourself to go home after it all, eh champ?

It's wall-ward amongst my gig tickets and cinema stubs for ever more.

Stains

2010-11-28T13:58:00.002Z

Stained fingertips from all you've dipped into mark you like beetroot.
Set up a ruse that you're bruised,
although I've never seen a more resilient vegetable
stand with blunt knife in hand offering to sacrifice itself for the homemade lasagne.

Pillow beneath my eyelashes strewn with with remnants like limbs torn from insects.

How is yours always a swept dance floor of solid scuff, scrape and solace?
Tear a clump of hair from scalp each evening as sleeps render me speechless
and I'll hold that in hands unaware as your torso tiptoes from me,
across the carpet, out into the hall.
Like a child asleep in a parked car, I'll stay fastened in dreams
defying stationary vehicles with the wildest thoughts.
You wipe the missed toothpaste off my mouth easy
but the lies on yours will leave a mark,

they'll fade back in over the course of the morning.

Bad Dads

2010-11-26T16:00:00.007Z

Even though I long ago established I couldn't afford these (and most have since sold out), I do keep going back to Spoke's Bad Dad collection and breaking my heart a little. Such a lovely notion, art around all your favourite movies and worst fathers.

I don't care that it breaks no boundaries. It makes me want to pick up pencils, break leads instead.

Edit: They re-released the middle print in a limited second run and I snapped one up. Hooray!

ANGORA ALL AUTUMN

2010-11-26T12:55:00.005Z

I'm behind the times here as I only managed to watch A Single Man last night. Thwarted in all previous attempts to get my eyes in front of it, I was anticipating I'd be underwhelmed after all my waiting.

It was elegant. Strikingly so. But even more than that, it put men in angora.

That scene on the lawn made this pair look devastatingly attractive and my eye was already on the sweater. Little did I know he would wear it throughout the movie (nudity aside).

God bless you, Tom Ford.

Unsurprisingly, I now more than feel the need to make this sweater. There is no "hmm" about it; it needs to be achieved, trawling the internet this morning for a similar pattern. I always love angora sweaters in Autumn anyhow... but the boat neck, blush tone, manly cut of this one has me entirely in rapture. And set off by that check shirt too! I'll hush up, now.

Today I wear a gingham blouse under a v-neck angora as an act of homage.

AT MY WEAKEST MOMENTS

2010-11-25T15:24:00.005Z

I try to do too much so as not to falter, burning the onions with tears in my eyes for reasons aside.

Tonight, instead, I'm going to do nothing at all rather than everything I can. Laundry, you may stagnate. People, we'll talk another day. Life, please wait on hold. I've reached my destination, and my destination is Tired.

Show her some beauty

2010-11-25T10:52:00.003Z

I'd temporarily forgotten how wonderful Spike Jonze is until I watched Arcade Fire's 'The Suburbs' video:

The short movie 'Scenes from the Suburbs' that it's taken from is (apparently) out on December 20th. I feel it will be perfect for Boxing Day disenchantments.

Meanwhile, I've cheered myself up before my next meeting by watching Spike Jonze start a fight in one. I'M PUMPED, I'M READY.

Killing Time

2010-11-19T15:15:00.004Z

Obviously blogging and shopping are far more than just filling moments because they record them, but during dull-as-dishwater days, they certainly help to pass the time. I've been liking Vice's 'Love Blogging' series lately. This is mainly because I like seeing other people's wardrobes now that mine is tidy. (It felt rather inferior until I scooped everything off floors, out drawers and hung it up two weeks ago. Now I like to open those four doors each morning.)

This is my favourite of the series so far because the influences are more 'me' than the others have been.

Today, I'm also getting to grips with Google's new Boutiques project. A place to build up wish lists and inspirational attire archives from behind this bland old desk: welcomed.

Thinking of the future

2010-11-12T14:51:00.012Z

I'm pretty sure when I have a kid, she'll be something like this.

For now though, I just wish to dress like one. Current covets include this dress and these mittens, from TBA and labour of love respectively.

In addition, when I'm avec Sprog, they shall certainly be wearing trousers by these guys. Absolutely incredible cut. They look like me wearing my boyfriend's clothes.

Rain, dear.

2010-11-09T13:47:00.004Z

There's been a lot of it lately so I've been working on this.

It will either be fully fledged, a sweater vest, or a bib by Christmas Day.

I shall wear it whatever way.

I remember when you shrugged into another's skin

2010-11-08T15:54:00.015Z

taking it out for a smoke.

Clogging your lungs like cheese sauce gropes cauliflower;

cloaking those wild thoughts that minds birth and stomachs harbour.

Leather slicker than your surface or the hair beneath your running palm,

it was more yours than the face you'd showed the mirror,

sucking in your cheeks lightly and holding pout like a mantle piece.

You'd barely gotten downstairs when the actual owner came collect

and I expressed myself like only a sunken potato can,

cloakroom duty to dobb you in.

You slunk up, shoulders too small for what fitted perfectly before

and cocky complacency like snow now melted

on your cuffs and collar and forehead creases.

I think of this when they say you hadn't been yourself lately.

"I always wanted to be a Tenenbaum." - Eli Cash

2010-11-03T13:51:00.008Z

"Me too, me too." - Royal Tenenbaum.

So Nicole Richie amazingly dressed as Margot Tenenbaum for Halloween...

She must have been inspired by Chanel Autumn/Winter adverts, non?

C3PO Mark II

2010-11-01T14:16:00.002Z

I'm either what he looks like when he takes his helmet off or I'm rather half arsed.

Pumpkin Party

2010-10-31T15:57:00.001Z

Do we have enough? Enough.

Campaign

2010-10-26T13:42:00.002+01:00

She's my favourite. Not because I think it's right to masturbate on your friend's sofa and cut all your hair off when the babysitter's not looking but because she's striving for the best way to react and personally mature rather than following in a vacant mother's footsteps. I wish we'd been pals in the playground.*

*For the record, my own mum's awesome.

I found this little beauty here.

COVER ART

2010-10-22T15:47:00.002+01:00

I spied these here and sometimes simple certainly works best.

Female Malady

2010-10-19T14:20:00.002+01:00

Guilt for what we've done or didn't do - or at least not well enough. Investing too much energy on not wanting to hurt feelings. Fearing self belief makes us appear like we're better than everyone else when it is in fact not a competition at all.

Ladies, I've grown a pair: I know how to use them, and I advise you to do the same.

The Things You Forget

2010-10-12T10:10:00.003+01:00

I don't know how this fell out my mind yesterday whilst daydreaming of the art I'd stepped into or in front of over the weekend.

Pathway through a room of ribbons by the Biennial; photograph by Christopher Brake.

The Things You Notice

2010-10-11T14:28:00.008+01:00

My favourites from what I've seen of the Liverpool Biennial so far are certainly Sam Knowles' beautiful binding of the galactic with found novels and wormholes through the words there, and Tehching Hsieh's One Year Performance which was staggeringly diligent.

I accidentally 'met' Tehching on a side street before the opening and as my friend was speaking to him it became clear he was incredibly well natured and with all humility intact. An inspiration all round, then.

My next stop will be to see more of the exhibitions at the CUC before November's end but - racing around before closing - it's clear that the predominately video art installation within their basement has some bloody lovely ideas.

As a closer to the weekend and in ultimately unrelated news, when did I turn into such a black widow? Was my change in hair colour the precursor or the full stop?

COINED

2010-10-08T15:00:00.002+01:00

Cunt clams n.
1. Persons who ensnare innocent others within their inappropriate or inconsiderate behaviour, often referring to boreish drunks or senior management.
2. Also, an exclamation of irritation i.e. "Oh, cunt clams."

Beautiful, beautiful black hair.

2010-10-06T15:31:00.004+01:00

Lifted her hair from her happy heart-shaped face...
Listening to a whole host of Nick Cave always makes me want to dye my hair black.
So, last night I did.

Let's give up everything to be bombshells.

2010-10-01T15:47:00.007+01:00

We'll sell our creativity off on etsy
and our quirky clothes we'll divide between Oxfam and eBay.
A kid with a 50p in her purse will cling hold to your humour
so hard at a bootfair
that you'll sell it to her for next to nothing.
And then we'll be alone
with our bare bodies and lacquered pouting
and no one will talk of anything else except our asses.

I couldn't tell your haircut in the crowd.

2010-09-30T16:52:00.001+01:00

A child not knowing my own phone number or address
waiting for you to turn your head.
Breakfast was between us this morning,
and now the ketchup scabs on the ceramic back at the house.
You pass the lawns of others' homes and there I stand
underneath the elm,
roadside at my lemonade stand,
picketing the removal of our picket fences.

VERSES IN VERSUS

2010-09-30T16:17:00.005+01:00

A friend put a poem of mine in his brand new zine without telling me. (Muthafucker.)

It is called Versus which shouldn't remind me of Christopher Kane/Versace dresses. But being both well designed and bloody lovely, I guess they at least have something in common other than a name.

If you're local, you should head on down to Bold Street Coffee and pick up an issue. (It's available elsewhere but I like BSC best.)

The woman that ran to work to start off the day.

2010-09-30T15:10:00.006+01:00

The bus was passing her now and there she was running in the same way as every this-time-of-day. What was it about her children that never let her leave five minutes beforehand? And it was of course a presumption that she even owned any, albeit one based on the weight her limbs carried behind her. A mother is forever walking towards a fan blowing back towards home.

Don't mistake the dark for depth.

2010-09-27T17:50:00.009+01:00

The sky’s greyer than a smudged pencil
and it’s erased your face with the ease
of an experienced error maker.
Routinely overcast,
shadowed regularity ridding welcome familiarities
from the expression you carry in your mouth's corners;
until I can't tell if that smile's because
I'm so wrong or so very tragically right.
You may be my clouded judgment or just your own,
but whatever the weather the weather man seems a con artist.
Can you at least sit upon that leather masquerade of
a sunken tangerine sold weeks ago
and tell me if you wear dark's mask willingly?
I preferred it when it was simply
a relic on a wall from a Halloween.
If it's to blame for shackling itself to you
clinging like a shadow to an ankle,
I'll devote my days to restoration projects
until you're back to the way your doors opened.
I've always known I could make a chapel out of you.
Thinking about last summer,
you're struggling to remember why we
wrapped it carefully for the bin when through,
as told to do on gum wrapper illustrations.
I wouldn't rather it have trailed the tread of our sneaker soles
entering every home we’ve left since.
Are you not as keen on staying clean?
"My heels aren't dragging, they're caught in the carpet"
would be awfully silly last words.
Barely noticed nor thought of
that rug in your room beside the records
but now here I am on a Monday in September
wondering what you trod in beneath its tassled edges.
Tell me, are you still chewing that old gum for fun
when it’s lost all flavour?

The only history you have with these girls is of an internet variety.

2010-09-27T15:16:00.001+01:00

Flicking through their holiday photos doesn't make them your friend, and the closest thing to a secret shared is that they don't know you exist.

COLLEGE BEARDS ABANDONED FOR CAREERS

2010-09-21T15:08:00.005+01:00

Show me that a man can't have everything and I'll offer you Cohen as my argument.

Perhaps loneliness is an asset afterall.

Hey, have you got secrets too?

2010-09-03T15:59:00.010+01:00

I smoke cigarettes when you're away
dragging the time and tar
like it's merely
the lint and dust
on the tail of a too long dress
that was a bargain on eBay.

Pretend you can't taste it
under the toothpaste on your return.

Sweets for my sweet, woollens for my honey.

2010-08-23T11:41:00.007+01:00

I like making a briefly held thought shared once nine months ago a stonking great reality on the sly.

Hence I secretly spent months knitting the rest of a rainbow of hats for a best boy who'd already been given a green one, with name labels (because he's forgetful) and given in a totally handsome 7'' case (because he's needed one a while).

TIN OF YARNDINES, PLEASE

2010-07-27T15:00:00.006+01:00

I really wish I'd known about this when I visited home at the weekend: an entire exhibition dedicated to food made from yarn, 'Come Dine With Kate' by Kate Jenkins.

At least at my Dad's Birthday party, I got the bit of cake with his face.

Parties in the USA

2010-07-27T10:50:00.005+01:00

It was worth every penny.

EMPIRE STATE OF MIND

2010-06-23T14:15:00.009+01:00

T-minus two days until I'm NYC bound. I've quit fretting and started slacking. Not done no work for ten whole minutes, and I'm saying that with a swagger or at least a failed attempt at one.

Instead of packing last night, I attached Cath Kidston fabric to my soon to be ever present camera strap lest I don't stick out enough amongst the natives. You know, God forbid I fit in.

SUNLIGHT BATHES OUR HOME

2010-06-14T18:25:00.003+01:00

Buried under make up, I found a list from two weeks ago that sums up what I've listened to most for the last six months.

This month so far, it's been mainly Trans Am, Clinic and Lightning Bolt: things that sound good amongst heavy traffic on the home run.