I bore myself saying it so I certainly must be boring you by now but I am busy. Buuuuusssy. Did I tell you I was busy? How am I? I’m busy. I don’t have much time for many of life’s luxuries like washing or sleeping right now but through the wonders of modern technology I allowed myself an indulgent five minutes to read this new post by Gala Darling today. Cyber-blogging-lifestye-lusting-consumerism or whatever the proper term is, is alive and well in me it seems as within about seven minutes I had bought myself a new Filofax. Well what’s the point in working all hours if you can’t spend your hard earned cash on something nice that you really want? I mean I really did want it. For like a whole two minutes before I bought it. It’s agony wanting something for so long I tell you.
Pretty aint she? And in my favourite midnight/royal blue hue. Aaaaaand I found it for 50% off here…Click!… it was meant to be I tell you. Aaaaaaaaand, oh crikey I suppose I should put in a disclaimer here after all my hand wringing over the last year about not wearing leather shoes due to being a veggie: Well folks I’m eating meat again temporarily. Basically I needed the energy and iron while I was doing Whole 30 because I felt mighty weak the last time I tried doing the program without. It won’t be a long term thing and I feel bloody awful about it but I am also a pragmatist, so I figured I couldn’t have any major moral objections about buying a leather organiser when I have four steaks sitting in my fridge at the moment.
I can’t wait to get my mitts on it and get all ‘New Year organised’. Lists, goals, plans for the year ahead! That and highlighting the bumper edition of the Radio Times the best part of Christmas!!! Right guys!? Guys??? Ahem…
Anyway, I now have to stop myself from endlessly staring at crafty ways to personalise my organiser on Pinterest because guess what? I don’t have time!
Lifey life, life life. Ever changing, ever unexpected. At least mine seems to be. For those of you who are lovely enough to check in here on a regular basis you may have noticed that I haven’t posted in a little while. Not ages or anything, I haven’t left the blog home alone with just a dish of water and some kibble (whatever that is) while I swan off to Lanzarote for two weeks. No, it’s just been a bit longer than I feel happy with. I usually try to post about three times a week when regular service is in operation, once a week when things get busy. But recently things have been very, very busy.
I have started new job which is very fun, exciting and loosely history related but in quite a different way. I’m not trying to be purposefully elusive but I’m just not really allowed to say much, especially on such a public platform. Suffice it to say, I’m spending a few months working with some great people on a great job, which I’ll be able to discuss more in the future. I also decided to keep my job at the Imperial War Museum because well, frankly I like it there and didn’t want to leave. Whilst having two great jobs that you enjoy is in no way a burden it does mean that I am working seven days a week until about March next year. The first week was a bit of an adjustment where I was trying to figure out my routine and how to fit a life around 11 hour workdays, and squeezing in writing two PhD proposals just to spice things up further. This week however I feel very much in my stride. To be honest I hate twiddling my thumbs. I’m used to being busy and I run at my best when I’m slightly overstretched. Just slightly, let’s not go crazy now. I am also currently doing the Whole 30 again this month, which I last completed in June and I think it is really helping with my energy levels. If I was to do what I usually do when I’m busy, which is basically just living off of coffee and cereal, I wouldn’t be able to make it through the day without a cat nap in the car. It seems then that I may have to Whole 30-it for the foreseeable – with a small but crucial interlude of Christmas naturally – I’m not a frickin masochist!
Really, the thing I’m worried about more than anything is keeping this place healthy. I don’t want it to get forgotten in amongst all of the hecticness. So, to nip any pangs of abandonment anxiety in the bud right away, this place is getting a dose of good old fashioned – ‘life at home shots’.
We always seem to have a stack of pictures to hang piled somewhere in the house, to the point that they have become a little art instalation in their own right now. T dumpred this Christmas wreath in our umbrella stand after last year and it looks so pretty it’s stayed there.
Collection of dried flowers I have hanging in the living room, some are from friends wedding bouquets, some are roses I’ve recieved, I just keep adding to it and it grows ever prettier.
These sorts of pictures are generally my favourite posts on the blogs I read. Maybe it’s because I’m a nosey so-and-so but I like to think it goes a little deeper as well. I guess I really just like seeing people happy, with a place to call home full of warmth and things and people that they love. It’s the reason I like walking home at this time of year because people invariably forget to close their curtains and you can peep into their cosy, cinnamon scented worlds for a moment of mundane peace – making dinner, watching television, playing with the dog on the rug. These are the moments that matter really, above and beyond the dressing up in pretty outfits and going somewhere opulent (although don’t get me wrong, that’s a pretty fabulous thread in the fabric of life too). But day to day life is often infinitely better; someone bringing you an apple from the café at lunchtime, not because you asked for one but just because they saw it and know you like them and they love you. Your mum making a two hour round trip to see you for fifteen minutes on your tea break because that’s the only time you had spare all week. Or your cat, who is normally a bit squirmy, sitting in your arms for a full two minutes and purring because you’ve been out of the house so much recently and she misses you. All of these things made up my week, and these are the things that sustain me, that make me. These moments are what make our days, our lives and us and I like to think that’s why I like looking in people’s windows. Also I am pretty bloody nosey.
Happy Bonefire’s Night Everyone!
I hope you are all full of toffee apples and smell like sparklers.
So if my calculations are correct most people should be on their way home from school or work and about to crack open that face paint and fake blood? Am I right?
I hope so, I think the getting ready is one of the best parts of Halloween night, especially as a child. As such, in what is becoming something of an annual tradition, I’ve made a playlist of spooky tunes to get you all in the mood for whatever you are up to tonight.
Happy Halloween goulies!
I had an urge to watch Tim Burton’s Dark Shadows a little while ago. If truth be known I wasn’t really blown away the first time I saw it, but a second viewing really made me fall in love with it, particularly the costumes which had slightly passed me by before. They. Are. Amazing. I’ve been through numerous clothing phases in my life, influenced by different eras and references, and now feel that I’m just some mix of all of them. But one constant throughout most looks has always been what I like to refer to (in the eloquent words of Nancy Spungen) as ‘fuckin’ Stevie Knicks in hippie clothes’. This was confirmed to me by my dear friend when we were deconstructing our personal styles to each other the other day (because that’s what real friends do people), and she said that to her I’d always been some Wednesday Addamsy-witchy-20s-bohmeianny-60s-hippy-Kate-Bushy-kind of thing. Or something to that effect, which I placed firmly in my ego engine and skipped along on my way with.
It’s quite true. I have always been influenced by 60s and 70s psychedelia fashions in some way, even if I didn’t know that’s what it was. As an 11 year old this was manifest in my impressive collection of long tie-dye crinkle skirts that my mother had to lovingly twist out over the bath in order for them for retain their alluring rumpled ridges. At about twenty-odd, I fell in love with the Pre-Raphaelites and tried in vain to grow my hair as long as a Waterhouse sea nymph. Then it was all about the 1910s-20s bohemia, with lots of velvet, lace and beading, which to my mind is a predecessor of the embellished swathes of fabric and tassels synonymous with the late 60s and early 70s. One of my greatest purchases at this time was a purple sequin kaftan that I acquired from the CND shop on the Holloway Road for five of the Queen’s pounds and subsequently wore to most social events I was invited to between 2005-2008. This also, perhaps not inconsequently ties in with the time in my life when people kept telling me I looked like Kate Bush. Anyway, I’m not sure where all of this is going really but suffice it to say that that whole velvet drenched, kaftan bedecked, occult obsessed style has in some form or another influenced me, either in its own right or via its precursors and I’m quite happy that I’m identified with it by those closest to me.
Soooooooooooo, who wants to look at some wonderful gothically psychedelic clothes? Yes me too. Let us have some music whilst we browse…
Burton’s film is obviously an adaptation the cult TV series which aired in the late 60s -early 70s. So it is only right that we take a look at some moments from that production too….
Darks Shaddows.20 looks a touch more HD.
I also kinda fell in love with Dr. Hoffman in all of her drunken glory – and that hair! Fabulous!
Angelique, played by Eva Green, boasts some enviable retro tailoring which I heartily approve of, I do so love an executive witch.
And look at little Vicky Winters, super cute in her preppy 70s threads.
However I think the belle of the Halloween ball has to be Elizabeth Collins, I want everything she wears, inlcuding the hair pieces. So, so good…
If you are as seduced by this look as I am, here are a few good online resouces for repro or inspired pieces…
Free People – good for flares and kaftans.
Sugar High Love Stoned – Reproduction Woodstock finest
Girl on a Vine – Unreal kaftans in a range of beautiful fabrics
So, let’s finish off with a few more shots from this period that I just love…
I wanted to let you know about a few great programmes currently available on the BBC IPlayer because, well what else are we supposed to do now that the clocks are going back and it’s as black as pitch by four o’clock? I try my hardest not to leave the house unless a roast dinner or Trick or Treating is involved during this time of year. Instead, I like hunkering down, tea-ing up and getting friendly with all of the great TV on offer. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone. There’s a reason TV scheduler-types put all of their best stuff on in the Autumn you know folks. I should know, I used to be one.
So, in this run up to Halloween the good old Beeb have come up trumps again with a whole raft of programming focussing on the gothic and the macabre. However, because it’s Auntie, it is all nicely wrapped up with an informative docu-dramatization bow. Huzzah!
So first off, we have Dan Cruickshank taking us through the story of the Scott family who, over three generations, were fundamental in the rise of the British Gothic style of the 19th century, all with a tasty dollop of personal tragedy naturally. Click!
Next is a very theatrical yet informative programme tracking the Gothic Revival in Britain within art, literature and wider Culture. Click!
To get us in the mood for Bonfire’s night which is only a few short days away (mittens at the ready folks), here is a nice dramatic reconstruction of the Gunpowder Plot. It is a bit patchy in parts and seems to skip over some events pretty swiftly, however, it’s a broad-brush recap of the political motivations and alliances that bore the plot in to fruition, if not execution. Click!
Although it was first aired a few years ago, Mark Gaitiss’ (he of Sherlock genius) walk through European Horror Cinema got a repeat outing a few days ago, so that too is currently up on the IPlayer. Catch it if you haven’t already! Click!
Finally, Dracula is available in all of its Hammer Horror glory. Peter Cushings cushing about and Christopher Lee being all imposing in glorious Technicolor – stick a toffee apple on a stick and call it a night folks. Boo!
Sweet nightmares kittens
On Monday I got lost. I was somewhat ok with this because I knew it was going to happen. Despite living in London for more years than I care to mention there are still some parts of it that remain pretty alien to me. In such a huge city I think we generally tend to stick to well-worn routes, or turfs that we recognises and feel at home in. These are usually the areas we work in, the places we have rented flats or just those locales we visit often for shopping or nights out. We get so familiar in these patterns that it sometimes comes as a bit of a shock when someone suggests to meet in Putney and you realise that you’ve never actually been there before, as happened to me last week (to the TFL journey planner!)
As much as I can tell you the quickest route from Forbidden Planet to the Big Topshop, there are definitely parts of the old girl that I just can’t fathom. One of these black holes is the City. Now this may come as something of a shock to you dear reader but I have never worked in the City. I’ve never inhabited an office called Jenkins and Stead, required the services of a ‘sandwich man’ or worked anywhere with a dress code any more taxing than ‘no ripped jeans’. I’ve worked in offices, but they have always been relaxed televisiony offices somewhere in West London where people wear whatever is newest on the ASOS website and eat cereal at their desks for lunch. Frankly, the City proper I find a bit otherworldly and weird. It seems to be endless wide and empty streets lined with glass and chrome with the occasional mock folksy 1800s pub front rammed into the bottom of a shiny building that was built circa 2001. Invariably these places are called some pseudo Medieval tosh like the Chime and Barrel or Golden Horn and serve what are essentially Weatherspoon’s meals but at three times the price so that the people in suits can gather together and discuss businessy business things with each other without feeling cheap. I know this to be true because I had to pop in to one on Monday when I couldn’t find a McDonalds to use for its primary function (public toilet) and instead darted through a space bedecked like Bilbo’s house full of red-faced men downing pints at 12.15pm. The only time I ever really seem to frequent the City is when I get on the wrong night bus and end up at three in the morning on some street that sounds like it was named by sodding Merlin, like Hob Knuckle Lane or Kings Guild Walk, and I’m the only thing with a pulse within a quarter of a mile radius and there’s nowhere to get any chips.
So as you can see, I was planning on getting lost at some point on Monday when I had a spare hour and decided to go and see the poppies at the Tower of London. Like some areas of London that have completely slipped me by over the years, so have many large tourist attractions. I hang my head in shame as a history graduate and also human being with a head that I have never been to the Tower of London. It’s ridiculous. I’ve been to the British Museum so many times I’m thinking of asking for a spare key but I’ve never been to the Tower of London once in all my years on this earth. Well I suppose it is a bit pricey and is all the way across town in the City….
Anyway, I have still never been inside but I thought I would go and see the poppies because they look beautiful and they are finishing soon. I am also still trying to get used to the idea of having free time for the first time in about six years after uni has finished. I’m trying to embrace this by doing the things I always mean to do but never have time for.
The poppies were beautiful. I was surprised by how close you could get without tickets, queues, or any of the things that can make living in Britain particularly frustrating at times. There was lots of room to navigate the Tower and everyone was nice, calm and not at all elbowy, which given the reason we were all there was heartening. It is of course a simple idea, and like many simple ideas, beautiful in that simplicity. Officially, this installation is called Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red by the artist Paul Cummins, but everyone has just started calling it ‘the poppies’, which I find terribly sweet. Although not numerically accurate, each poppy represents a life lost in the First World War and I think even the least empathetic person on earth could hardly fail to realise the poignancy of the work when confronted with it. Silent and all the same, cloaked in red and standing tall in a space designed for defence. As I said beautiful in its simplicity.
After the poppies, I got lost. I was trying to find Bank Station but I must have wandered too far and instead ended up by Mansion House. When I saw the (in more ways than one) motherly form of St Paul’s I made a beeline for that instead as I knew I could pick up, what I like to think of as the arterial vein of London, the Central Line from there. On the way, I spotted some very sweet graffiti by the Thames and took some shots of the moody looking river. It was wonderful to be a tourist in my own town for a while. I took some time to think about my life over the last year. Although in some ways taking the plunge to leave work and study was scary, particularly now that it is over and I’m trying to forge a life from my studies, it was one of the best things I’ve ever done. I’ve never really cared about where I apparently should be in life compared to my contemporaries. All I’ve ever wanted was a life I could be happy in. A life that when I’m a little elderly Miss Marple I can say I owned rather than rented. That ideology can sometimes be lost, especially in this town. It can be swept up with visiting the newest pop-up something, going Glamping, and managing to maintain a monthly cut and colour schedule. Apparently, these are the things people my age do, but I never have. I think these activities sound lovely, and I would probably enjoy them if I had the opportunity to. However, I have so much freedom just at the moment. I can take an hour in the middle of a Monday to wander the streets of London, lost and daydreaming, people watching and happy. As much as my future right now is in flux and unknown, standing beside the windy choppy brown river, looking at the clouds and the elderly couples holding hands I knew more than ever that I was in the right place and I wouldn’t change it, not for all the lunches at the Bell and Hog on earth.
Don’t ‘cha just love it when you have the perfect thing to wear to an event? I went to my sister’s birthday dinner at Brasserie Zedel last night, and what is one to wear to an art deco restaurant in the iddle of Autumn? A 1920s dress in butter-like brown velvet of course.
I have had this beauty for a few years, and like much of my genuine 20s stuff I try to only wear it for extra special outings. 20s pieces are just so delicate and fragile and much more prone to damage than my 40s and 50s garments. However this wee beauty is holding up quite nicely and I couldn’t resist a chance to wear her in such a perfect environment.
Camouflage can be a funny old thing, generally it will allow you to blend seamlessly in to your surroundings, i.e. for a woman in 2014 London, jeans, knee boots, dark coat. But sometimes on those very special occasions there is that rare and shocking phenomenon – dazzling camouflage. Dazzle camouflage is exemplified by Eddie Izzard’s ‘first battalion transvestite division’, blinding the opposition with their sheer glamour and well-put-togethery-ness. Well a common world view was clearly shared dear Eddie and Norman Wilkinson. ‘Who he?’ you say. He was a Lieutenant with the Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve and in 1917 had the cunning planning to paint British merchant ships with contrasting abstract patterns in order to confuse the enemy. It was thought that it would be difficult to determine the direction, turning and speed of the vessels because the common lines of the boat would be broken up and concealed by the pattern.
In homage to his frankly genius idea, which by the way seems to have been very effective, the Imperial War Museum has teamed up with Patternity to create a range of products inspired by the bold designs of Mr. Wilkinson, known as the Fleet of Dazzle.
I really like a black and white design scheme a the beI think. I particularly like the mug and tote bag, and a think a nice bold tea-towel can really brighten up a kitchen. Like a good rug in a living room, it really ties the room together man.
I’m already well under way with planning Christmas shopping ideas (I bought my first present the other day), and I can think of several people who may appreciate this range. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, you can’t beat a good museum gift shop for original present ideas.
Right, I’m off to find my own dazzle camouflage now because I’m going out for dinner tonight at my favourite London restaurant, the Wolseley, and frankly blending in is boring.
I’m a bit rubbish with sunglasses. I tend to either forget to being them out of the house with me, or completely underestimate a prolonged spell of sunshine and instead just keep telling myself ‘it will go cloudy any second’ rather than actually putting the glasses on my face. I don’t really spend much on them either. The only pair of expensive sunglasses I have ever purchased where some DKNY lovelies that I picked up in duty free on my way to New Zealand some years go and then promptly watched bob down a mountainside about two weeks later when I fell in a glacial stream. Never again, I muttered to myself as a wrung out my sodden jeans. Those soggy sentiments have remained pretty true for much of the last decade. I am currently sporting a very nice pair of 70s tortoiseshell frames that I found at my Grandma’s house after she passed away. I’m not sure if they were hers, my grandfathers or even my mother’s from her youth, but they are terribly flattering and go with everything.
I’m also guilty of associating sunglasses only with summer and forgetting those bright autumn and winter days when the sun glares from snow covered fields.
Well not this year. This year I’m embracing my sunnies year round and I see no reason not to do a post about fabulous sunglasses in the middle of October! Also, maybe it’s time I risked buying an investment pair of sunglasses, I mean it was a long time ago and there aren’t many mountain streams in London. Let it go Chloe, let it go.
Now, I know Dita’s exclusive eyewear line for Dita Eyewear launched a little while back but in amongst dissertation realness, I couldn’t give it the attention it deserved. Which has actually worked out rather nicely because I can’t think of a better collection of lenses for the coming vampy October days, walking your black cat through the crispy leaves, seeking out the dark forces and joining their hellish crusade (name that quote pop-pickers).
In the marketing blurb for this range Dita is quoted as saying that she avoids true vintage sunglasses as the proportions tend to be wrong for modern faces and can look ‘grandmotherly’. Well I’m sure we all have some opinions on that statement but you can’t deny that this range is a beautiful marrying of the glamourous and ghoulish B-movie aesthetic with luxe modern design. In Ms von Teese’s own words, “the way to capture the elegance and spirit of vintage style is to understand that it must be done with a contemporary twist to make it current and sexy. This is what this collection is about: sexy, wearable eyewear that conveys high-glamour and elegance.” I have to say that I agree. I’ve written in the past about what I’ve termed artistic vs authentic vintage and I will always be a fan of mixing and matching the pieces of the past that resonate with me to create my own identity. It may vary and fluctuate, but it will always be mine and not brass a rubbing of a woman who had her own beauty and voice.
There are 10 designs in the collection in varying colour ways. Below I’ve selected my favourite six, perhaps unsurprisingly all in their black incarnations. I do think classic black sunglasses can’t be beaten, also at this time of year the white or brighter designs would seem out of place. So, here are my top picks for this season.