Dear Ms.Alexander,
Thank you for finally seeing me.
"Are you lonely in here?" you whimsically ask, in your NZ drawl.
I hope you had fun at the theatre last night.
"Yes," I reply in my faux-infantile voix. "I might start waltzing with the clothes soon." Oh, but... now you've gone! Was it something I said?
COME BACK HILARY!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Dear Ms. Alexander ctd,
...Still Day Two.
Still inactive.
Still loving the work of Erika Trotzig.
Her A/W10 aptly titled "A Poem Without a Hero" evokes such strong sense of sartorial understanding and depth. Rick Owens and Ann Demeulemeester spring to mind when taking in what is quintessentially a nouveau grunge-glam look. Oxford model, Laura Bailey is face du choix for this designers recent collection that oozes drama and sophistication for the cooler months ahead. Of course, all designers immediately opt for a darker palette as soon as they sense leaves dropping from autumnal trees, however there is someting very sincere about Trotzig's use of black, blues and greys that invites you in.
This is Parisienne chic via Comme's deconstructionist office in Japan and straight up from the heart of East London. And all courtesy of this 30-something Swede blondie. Loverrly.
The rather contemporary use of leathers, sheer sheer chiffons is a bit of a no-brainer nowadays, but once again there is something that smacks of "classic". She moves from tailored to slouchy effortlessly; from a royal blue A-line silk dress to baggy leather gilet in one fell swoop. And all with consistent matching armpit skimming leather gloves and black chiffon tights.
Seeing is believing such a collection shouldcouldwould, yet does, work. But I am unashamedly in love with a non-designer.
www.erikatrotzig.com
L x
...Still Day Two.
Still inactive.
Still loving the work of Erika Trotzig.
Her A/W10 aptly titled "A Poem Without a Hero" evokes such strong sense of sartorial understanding and depth. Rick Owens and Ann Demeulemeester spring to mind when taking in what is quintessentially a nouveau grunge-glam look. Oxford model, Laura Bailey is face du choix for this designers recent collection that oozes drama and sophistication for the cooler months ahead. Of course, all designers immediately opt for a darker palette as soon as they sense leaves dropping from autumnal trees, however there is someting very sincere about Trotzig's use of black, blues and greys that invites you in.
This is Parisienne chic via Comme's deconstructionist office in Japan and straight up from the heart of East London. And all courtesy of this 30-something Swede blondie. Loverrly.
The rather contemporary use of leathers, sheer sheer chiffons is a bit of a no-brainer nowadays, but once again there is something that smacks of "classic". She moves from tailored to slouchy effortlessly; from a royal blue A-line silk dress to baggy leather gilet in one fell swoop. And all with consistent matching armpit skimming leather gloves and black chiffon tights.
Seeing is believing such a collection shouldcouldwould, yet does, work. But I am unashamedly in love with a non-designer.
www.erikatrotzig.com
L x
Dear Ms.Alexander,
Day Two of Operation Inertia.
Today I am wearing a vintage full skirted black chiffon dress, a string of pearls x2 and my "Audrey" flats. You haven't even noticed. Perhaps because you are not here today. Or perhaps because I have once again been bunged into this fashion cupbaord/office to live out my long eight hour day in isolation. Boredome has yet to set in. Laregly because I have taken to doing something, erm, "productive", perhaps- in reading your article backlog.
This was my favourite.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/fashion/fashionnews/7572515/Ladies-Day-fashions-at-Aintree-Racecourse-2010.html
A veritable truth, you speak Hils. However, as Denis Harrison point out on April 10th 2010 at a quater to eleven in the morning:
"I noticed in your article you chose the most adventorous of fashion wearers and then basically made fun of them, all of the ladies at aintree put a huge amount of time and effort and enjoy their day, not everyone is overdressed and i have noticed that all the broadsheets tend to feature the most outrageous outfits and ridicule them but dont have any photos of the many beautifully dressed women. as for your comments i find interesting as i feel your own fashion sense is not the best judging by your own taste in clothes that do not suit you, your age, or your figure..."
Oops. A lesson learnt- never take on the North. Even if, oddly enough, you didn't take them on in the first place.
Yours, maybe one day,
L
Day Two of Operation Inertia.
Today I am wearing a vintage full skirted black chiffon dress, a string of pearls x2 and my "Audrey" flats. You haven't even noticed. Perhaps because you are not here today. Or perhaps because I have once again been bunged into this fashion cupbaord/office to live out my long eight hour day in isolation. Boredome has yet to set in. Laregly because I have taken to doing something, erm, "productive", perhaps- in reading your article backlog.
This was my favourite.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/fashion/fashionnews/7572515/Ladies-Day-fashions-at-Aintree-Racecourse-2010.html
A veritable truth, you speak Hils. However, as Denis Harrison point out on April 10th 2010 at a quater to eleven in the morning:
"I noticed in your article you chose the most adventorous of fashion wearers and then basically made fun of them, all of the ladies at aintree put a huge amount of time and effort and enjoy their day, not everyone is overdressed and i have noticed that all the broadsheets tend to feature the most outrageous outfits and ridicule them but dont have any photos of the many beautifully dressed women. as for your comments i find interesting as i feel your own fashion sense is not the best judging by your own taste in clothes that do not suit you, your age, or your figure..."
Oops. A lesson learnt- never take on the North. Even if, oddly enough, you didn't take them on in the first place.
Yours, maybe one day,
L
Monday, 19 April 2010
Dear Ms.Alexander,
I am currently sitting somewhat dejected in your fashion cupboard (which is no more a cupboard than I am a saint) alone, hopelessly bored and witlessly unstigmatised. And have been for the best part of 6 hours, aka the entire day.
Please give me a chore. I am at that fustrating stage where I will shine your sartorially unchallenged shoes. In short, I am bored out of my mind. Today I am wearing vintage Dior- you haven't even noticed. I feel like a rejected lover, shunned to live out my days in dire solitude with only the air con and Youtube for company.
Left alone to my thoughts, I have begun to do the one thing no wannabe fashion journo should ever have to do- think. Think about politics.
My main wrangle of the day is with regards to the maddening way in which people are abandonning the Conservative party after months, nay years, of their hard campaigning. Says my beloved Boris in this morning's Daily Telegraph: Is there something in the water? And I for one am inclined to agree. The politically unsavvy are flirting with what they shouldn't be- Liberal Democrat(ism). And it's showing. Liberalists out there may have come a cropper with their whimsical half-wit policies but question is when will they come down from the fence and start producing something realistic and of substance. It is interesting that no-one has yet picked up on the fact that Clegg's own policies are nothing more than watered down variations of a Cameron theme.
O, how the heart breaks.
Do these fools not realise that a vote for Lib dem is a vote for Brown.
A majority for LD is impossible given the, ahem, seating arrangement in the HoC. Hung Parliament alludes to more in its nameasake than the unintiated realise.
Hung Parliament, hangs democracy.
Hung Parliament, hangs progress.
Hung Parliament, hangs the sort of resolution needed to get Britian back to where it belongs.
The idea of Hung Parliament ought be tied in sailors knots before May 6th. Vote Tory.
I am currently sitting somewhat dejected in your fashion cupboard (which is no more a cupboard than I am a saint) alone, hopelessly bored and witlessly unstigmatised. And have been for the best part of 6 hours, aka the entire day.
Please give me a chore. I am at that fustrating stage where I will shine your sartorially unchallenged shoes. In short, I am bored out of my mind. Today I am wearing vintage Dior- you haven't even noticed. I feel like a rejected lover, shunned to live out my days in dire solitude with only the air con and Youtube for company.
Left alone to my thoughts, I have begun to do the one thing no wannabe fashion journo should ever have to do- think. Think about politics.
My main wrangle of the day is with regards to the maddening way in which people are abandonning the Conservative party after months, nay years, of their hard campaigning. Says my beloved Boris in this morning's Daily Telegraph: Is there something in the water? And I for one am inclined to agree. The politically unsavvy are flirting with what they shouldn't be- Liberal Democrat(ism). And it's showing. Liberalists out there may have come a cropper with their whimsical half-wit policies but question is when will they come down from the fence and start producing something realistic and of substance. It is interesting that no-one has yet picked up on the fact that Clegg's own policies are nothing more than watered down variations of a Cameron theme.
O, how the heart breaks.
Do these fools not realise that a vote for Lib dem is a vote for Brown.
A majority for LD is impossible given the, ahem, seating arrangement in the HoC. Hung Parliament alludes to more in its nameasake than the unintiated realise.
Hung Parliament, hangs democracy.
Hung Parliament, hangs progress.
Hung Parliament, hangs the sort of resolution needed to get Britian back to where it belongs.
The idea of Hung Parliament ought be tied in sailors knots before May 6th. Vote Tory.
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