Tailored Coat – La Redoute x Carven. Trousers – Stylenanda. Heels & belt – Bally. Bag – Vintage. Scarf – La Redoute
Coat – J Lindeberg
Top – La Redoute. Flares & Coat – La Redoute x Carven. Blue cashmere tube-top – Mandkhai
To don a watch is to wear a miniature black-hole at your left, or right, sleeve – a cleverly disguised little weapon that brings a micro-second of chaos as the wearer, after having so deliberately employed her wrist and peeled back the sleeve of her Equipment blouse, DOES NOT REALLY REMEMBER THE TIME, and checks it again. My relationship with my watch is as such – made up of singular moments amidst a flurry of activity, as our faces mirror eachother’s, and our eyes meet, just as you would with your best friend in a house party of sorts, that micro-second that says nothing but tells everything. And perhaps the real purpose of consulting your watch for the time is not for the very data itself, but a nod to the smaller moments that go undetected.
The second hand glides around the jet-black lake of the Larsson & Jennings The Automatic, newest series to the family and an upgrade to the cult models that has been dominating the instaworlds on wrists of taste-conscious millennials. The watch is silent but packs a punch – even its refined, golden arms dance with intent, even in the smaller moments I’ve decided to photograph for this story.
The Automatic is the older sister I never had. The one that has a degree in political science, looks flawless at all times (#Iwokeuplikethis), and yet knows how to rock a tune at the family Christmas gathering. We found this amazing flat on Airbnb, and spent one day idling in corners where the soft winter light trickled through the blinds; occasionally looking at the Automatic, but never registering the time.
Exclusive to the series is also the deployment clasp, Swiss AR-coated crystal sapphire glass and the date calendar functionality of a 21 jewel ETA 2892.A2 mechanical movement. Available directly from Larsson & Jennings stores and a small number of selected partners.
“I love you a million cheese pizzas” is what I imagine my Valentine’s Day note would read, if I ever managed to live through this ‘holiday’ without wringing my eyeballs out. That message of course, represents everlasting, spell-binding, Disney-grade love. Because duh, pizza. Sprinkle in some love you a thousand glazed-donuts, tacos, cheese-fries…etc into the equation, and it means tonight we’re probably going to get it on. Alas, for the sake of professionalism we went for another line on this Valentine’s love-story we shot for Bally, but coincidentally one I hear every morning: Good morning, my love. (I however, cannot confirm whether my husband says this to his breakfast bowl or to me.)
Joking aside, this year my husband and I mark our tenth year together, and as much as we love to hate on the commercial holidays, when I look back it had really been a decade of very happy unValentine’s days, with nine Valentine’s days in the midst. The timing is perfect, even if the very notion of the ‘holiday’ induces a mini barf, and if there ever was a brand out there that I would work with to ‘celebrate’ the actual day, it’d be Bally. Nonpretentious, gluten-free, grown up sort of love. A modern relationship that is all about good design and functionality. And a few pink bags strewn around just for the fun of it all because you know, glazed-donuts. So here’s my Bally love story, produced and photog-assisted by the two favourite boys that make my life easier (Brian and Ben), and composed by yours truly.
Oh Mayfair. Home to old-school London opulence and playground to hedge fund boys; and reportedly – the scene to Prince Philip’s stag night, way back when. Dusty terracotta-orange bricks punctuate the neighbourhood, Victorian filigree curling around the frames. And the occasional Lamborghini, parked like boys’ bicycles on the curbs. Soon to add to the flags of the not-so-commonwealth along New Bond Street is Swiss brand Bally who, those of who will remember, my sister from another mister (in my dreams) – tucked in a corner at number 45, designed by none other than David Chipperfield Architects (of Hotel Cafe Royal, Valentino NY flagship…) In the lead-up to the store launch I worked with Bally on leading a new video series named #BallyMayfairWelcome, essentially doing what new neighbours do and knock on doors of their Mayfair neighbours, pie in hand. Of course, in some cases we ate the pies… Annabel’s chocolate cake at Mount Street Deli will change your life (TEAM CHOCOLATE) – you heard it here first. The videos are being released in the Bally blog, but do keep an eye out on their Twitter and Instagram as from the sneak peeks I’ve been seeing so far it looks a right stunner. Think leather shoe boxes lining the walls, mid-century furniture and stone stairwells…
I’m coming to realize that I never managed to share this news here, but I’ve been consulting for and managing the Bally social media accounts since July. (The amount of times I very nearly tweeted chocolate cravings and in-bus rages from that account… heart palpitations.) Do come by and say hi soon!
What do they say – Give a woman a house, she’ll make a home? Well, give a woman a Hyundai i20 over Fashion Week, and she’ll make a Death Star on four wheels and one 22-year old driver very, very uncomfortable. This, like many things in life – including adding soy sauce to everything – I blame my mother. Growing up, mornings were a battle of which sibling can out-stupid the other one, starting with putting shoes on before trousers, smearing toothpaste all over our faces and pretending to shave… you get the gist. This led to my poor mother having to shovel us into the car every morning along with 2 x cereal bowls, school outfits, homework, toothbrushes… (at one point I believe there was a pillow fort in the car), and she’d drive with one hand while the other ‘conditioned the air’. Fast forward to SS15 LFW, I inhale a plastic container of scrambled eggs in the car while deciding on an outfit, and with each day a new pile of clothing spilling out the passenger door. At the end of Day One I attend a makeup session at the Apartment with Max Factor discovering the new Skin Luminizer Foundation, and from that point on I use the tinted passenger window to accomplish the ‘dewy look’ in the ensuing mornings, just how Caroline Barnes instructed. My 22-year old driver awkwardly avoids using the rear-view mirror (apparently a touch worse than drink-driving) during my changing room sessions, but we somehow manage to make a split-second eye-contact just when my head is halfway through a sweater. Thankfully this Death Star is all about efficiency (close that hatch…) as we slice through morning traffic, and I arrive at the first show of the day with a Aquafresh breath and lotion behind my ears.
Stay tuned for some of my favourite collections so far!
Huge thanks to Hyundai UK for, gee wow, a car with my logo on it (!), and allowing ‘5 more minutes, mum…’ to happen. Please forgive me for any coco puffs found between the seats.