Scarf – Nazanin Rose Matin

Park-n-Cube_Conrad-Maldives_Part2_003 Park-n-Cube_Conrad-Maldives_Part2_004

CoNrad maldives
Pt 2.
Rangali Island, maldives | | Part 1

It’s difficult to write an account of an experience in the Maldives without an introductory flailing of the arms and a bit of gurgling, followed by something that’s spelt a little bit like this. It’s all very professional, really. In fact, the world should celebrate that I’m not on Youtube because it all looks and sounds like Tom Hanks in Cast Away with a bit of spirit fingers sprinkled in the mix. (I am on Snapchat however, making the same noises at brownies and puppies on Broadway Market: Sparkncube) Even re-living the Maldives through these photos puts me on a high.

As mentioned in Part 1, the main attraction at Conrad Maldives – once you’ve gotten over (warning: this may take forever) the milky-white beach, azure skies and the most translucent water since bottled Fiji – is the sense of privacy and isolation. I’d fully embraced this inside my Water villa (with thumping rap music on the first night), with a tinge of suspicion that perhaps it was to be expected given the nature of architecture, but was promptly proven otherwise as we moved into a Deluxe Beach villa two nights later. In theory, your neighbours are close by, but the minute the gates click shut, you feel like a homeowner. And it’s a big home – larger in fact, than most of my previous London flats, and I don’t recall ever having an outdoors bath-pavilion (unless you count the one where water leaked from the ceiling). So there, yet another reason to move to the Indian Ocean.


Lingerie – Triangl. Serum – Estee Lauder. Sandals – Pour la Victoire. Watch – Daniel Wellington. Sunnies – Westweard Leaning




Romper – ASOS. Necklace – EFFRA



Speaking of reasons to move, add these too – ten restaurants where one is 5m (16 ft) under water, and another inside a wine cellar; an extensive list of DVDs and snacks that can be ordered through room service for rainy afternoons after lunch; and a spa that is set on stilts with glass floors so that you can drift off counting the stripes of a family of clownfish (“three”) while your back gets some much-needed TLC. So yes, I would jump ship and go Tom Hanks for/at Conrad Maldives any day, as long as Wilson can pour me some bubbly at pink sunset, I’d be happily cast away for ever.

Park & Cube was a guest of Conrad Maldives, all views and opinions are my own. Shots of me with the help of Mr Tripod.


Caudalie Beauty Elixir. Sabon Body Lotion. Estee Lauder Advanced Night Repair Cream. Skyn Eye cooling gel. Kiehls Avocado Eye cream. Pai Avocado & Jojoba Day cream



Watch – Daniel Wellington. Ring – Elizabeth & James





The over-water spa






Bag – Mansur Gavriel. Sunnies – Karen Walker. Swimsuit – ASOS.


Port Adriano
magalluf, mallorca, spain |

Now, let me just preface this by saying that when it comes to sailing, or any somesuch art of being at sea, I know jack-poop. There’s really no better way of putting it. I perhaps vaguely know what a boat is because it sounds like ‘butt’ and Nemo touched it, but other than that all sailing/watercraft terminology goes straight over my head. Regatta still sounds like cheese to me. What I do know however, is that summer on a boat – or simply at sea – is infinitely more fun than not. I mean, you’re basically riding a mobile beach that is most times stocked with food and drinks that mysteriously taste better than on solid ground. You’re also surrounded by what is essentially a colossal pool, where you can play Marco Polo until the captain fishes you out of the water with a rod out of sheer annoyance. And suure, your body is in a hilarious state of ‘what is actually going on with the floor’, but the sun and water combination is glorious, refreshing, even humbling.

Peasant Top - Mango. Sunnies – Karen Walker.




Triangl swimwear





For the better part of the past decade, Mallorca – the largest Spanish Balearic Island in the Mediterranean – had been a chip-as-chips destination, popular amongst the European hen/stag party crowd and bored pensioners, but gems like Port Adriano help shake off this notoriety. Designed by Philippe Starck, think of it as a parking-lot for floating Mustangs and Maserati’s. Think Grace Kelly, or Bond villain – at least those with private superyachts as extension to their evil lair. So, if there’s something you tick off this summer, make it sailing in Mallorca. If only for the excuse of going out to sea and then letting your instructor do all the work, or making friend with someone that happens to own a hot boat (butt?). Flights are still cheap, so it’s really the best of both worlds. Also, be sure to do Hotel Port Adriano for an early-morning spa appointment and then brunch on the terrace – exactly in that order. The view is so spectacular you’ll be digesting banana peels while counting faraway islands. Plus, the hotel runs on an adult-only concept so you may need to hand in your Gameboys at the door, like I had to.

Park & Cube was a guest of Port Adriano. As usual, views and opinion my own. Snaps of me with the help of Abimarvel.



Top – Topshop (similar). White trousers – Zara. Shoes – Birkenstock. Bag – Neri Karra.






Bag – Coccinelle


With every passing season it seems more and more apparent that I approach Fashion Week dressing exactly like how I prepared for my GCSE’s: Revise the crap out of the first exam on schedule (history), and then sob through the rest, cramming two years’ worth of curriculum every night before exams while simultaneously replacing water with Red Bull in my circulatory system. Fast forward about ten years later – same drill, different liquids. If ya know what I mean.

Here’s sort of a play-by-play:

All photo assistance by Simon Schmidt.

London fashion week
Day One
Confident. Prepared. Even bothered to wrestle with the printer to have the day’s itinerary at hand. Memorized the show schedule to the tune of Family Guy opening song. Three look changes neatly folded in the trunk with one to spare, we’re shooting a video throughout the day and the Hyundai Santa Fe is my changing room on wheels again. Windows not tinted dark enough but it’s Day One and I’m pumped.

Coat – Charlie May. Faux-fur stole – ASOS. Skirt – Joseph. Boots – Stuart Weitzman. Top – Zara.


London fashion week
Day Two
Early start, breakfast in the car. Make-up completion level: 8/10. Pret plastic spoon in one hand, eyeliner in another, someone’s eating granola with an eyeliner again today… Balancing on 4-inch heels and feeling like I’m up to some good. Promises self to go home and blog everything I’ve seen today.

Cropped-trench – Reiss. Jeans – Levi’s CT. Heels – Gianvito Rossi. Dress – Razan Alazzuoni. Bag – Louis Vuitton.



London fashion week
Day Three
Hummed tune to Family Guy over breakfast and only managed to sing ‘sex on TV’ bit correctly. No idea what’s happening today, fingers crossed assistant knows. Wearing trainers in case there’s some running involved. Ran to the loo in McDonald’s between Topshop and Paul Smith.

Sweater – Isabel Marant. Jeans – Topshop. Bag – Marni. Scarf – Acne ‘Canada’


London fashion week
Day Four
Stuck a hand inside the khaki side of the wardrobe and pulled out outfit at the peak of desperation. Figured you can never go wrong with khaki, except maybe looking like a farmer a little. Coccinelle bag surprisingly roomy and fits camera et al. Scooore.

Quilted Jacket – Barbour. Denim jacket – Levi’s. Belt – Vintage Louis Vuitton. Culottes – Topshop. Bag – Coccinelle. Fedora – Hoss Intropia
Top Handle, snakeskin effect


London fashion week
Day Five
Peeled out layers from the laundry basket, ended up looking (and smelling) like a college student. Not sure what fashion even is anymore. Tommy, can you smell me? Turns out wearing everyday clothes = higher productivity level. No actual work done, but somehow managed to deplete phone battery by noon. Added this skill into CV with remaining 1%.

Bag – Aspinal. Jeans – Levi’s CT CT. Top & Blazer – POLO Ralph Lauren.


White Shirt – ASOS. Jeans – G-Star RAW (tight)


Jeans – G-Star RAW (wide)


Tighter jeans, wider quarters.

If you happen follow me on my satellite rant-channels such as Twitter or Instagram you’ve been subject to the live stream moaning of all things related to the joy of moving homes. For this I apologise. If you don’t however, you 1) are making smart choices in life (or at least very refined taste in internet personalities) but also 2) missing out on a whole slew of embarrassing food choices that explain for mysterious stomach bulges that excite and disappoint my mother every other day around dinnertime. (“Kebab or baby?”)




For the past month I’ve been in nothing but jeans (these two G-Star RAW pairs, my current fav), occupying myself in packing, unpacking, and learning the art of leading a professional life in the most trashcan-like setting in the new house. But we have a marble fireplace so, we got that going for us, which is nice. So far we’ve managed to dig a path to and from the boxes containing beef jerky packets, and have sung a bit of Step in Time while vacuuming around the fireplace.

When it comes to moving uniform though, jeans all the way. Tight or wide, I just like knowing I can wipe my hands on my leg since I have no clue where we packed our towels. While I go look for some (it has now come to a point where a shower is definitely needed), you tell me whether you’re #TeamTight or Wide when it comes to jeans.

In collaboration with G-Star RAW #TightorWide. Editing P&C. Photo assistance by Simon Schmidt.


Silk scarf – MiH. Leather vest, trench, jeans - GStar RAW. Heels – Gianvito Rossi. Bag – Gucci. Watch – Karl Lagerfeld. Earcuff – CompletedWorks


Blouse & Bag – Chloe. Skirt – Karen Millen. Bracelet – Miansai. Watch – Larsson & Jennings


A video diary: the first day of London Fashion Week




Rewind, play.
A Shopstyle x Harrods video, produced by The Apartment

As you can see, I make a brilliant habit of dropping my cool like a hot potato whenever a camera is shoved in my face. I mean, slow-dancing with food and suggesting a celebrity threesome is, really, any old day in the life of this insane chipmunk, but no one’s ever successfully recorded it so… yes, let’s report this cool lost. (Although, I suppose one can argue that I never had any cool to begin with.)

Weeks before the ‘fashion’ baton was handed over to London, I sat down with team Apartment, Shopstyle, and Harrods, in the plans of animating a typical London Fashion Week day for me. Many a scenario we had mapped out: breakfasts, fittings, shows, re-sees, melt-downs on account of London traffic and even a spot of work (!). But me being me, famously sporting a rather potent gravitational field of tomfoolery, on the actual day of the shoot we ended up rewriting the agenda (on the back of a Pret bag, with old eyeliner found at the bottom of my bag), and indulged all kinds of tangents… like running into the nearest McDonalds to use the loo and coming out with a box of McNuggets. In Balmain. (Shhh don’t tell Harrods) In the end though, I do think it turned out to be a more natural rendition of what a LFW day looks like every season after season: the mad conflict of schedules vs. spontaneity, with snacks and gossip at the Apartment in between it all.


Jacket – Balmain.




Jacket – Chloe . Bag – Marni. Stole – ASOS. Trousers – Zara. Shoes – Gianvito Rossi.






Photos by Kris Atomic, Simon Schmidt and Shini Park. In Collaboration with Shopstyle.