Tablet – Lenovo Yoga. Envelope pouch – Smythson. Heels – Bally. Headphones – Bower Wilkins.

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London Fashion Week SS15: A visual diary

Hyundai i20

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Hunter SS15

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Charlie May SS15 eyewear

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Mary Katrantzou final walk

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Max Factor Skin Illuminator Foundation & Colour Corrector Stick

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Topshop Unique SS15

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Topshop Unique SS15

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Food on instagram because proper photos on DSLR? Ain’t nobody got time fo that.

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Wearing: Top – COS. Trousers – Zara. Bag – Marni. Shoes – Tibi. Watch – Larsson & Jennings. Rings – Monica Vinader.

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… etc. This led to my poor mother having to shovel us into the car 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 plate of scrambled eggs in the car while deciding on an outfit, and every day there’s a new pile of clothing spilling out the passenger door pocket. At the end of Day One I get 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 taught. 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 always manage to make a split-second eye-contact just when my head is halfway through a sweater… Thankfully 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 a ‘5 more minutes, mum’ partnership, please forgive me for any coco puffs between the seats.

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Jumpsuit – Topshop. Heels – Zara. Rose-gold star necklace – MyFlashTrash. Sunglasses & Bag – c/o Couronne. Watch – Sekonda. Gold bangles – ASOS. Friendship Bracelet – DIY (similar here). Belt - Marni (via the Outnet); Ring – Michelle Oh; Thank you Charlie for helping with the photos.

Let this be my humble attempt at inquiring what ze heck is up with this weather by going into the boiler room with a wrench. Apparently, according to practice, the most appropriate attire to such assignment is either a boiler suit or a beer company t-shirt + paint-stained khakis combo, and since I’m off beer for, like, THE REST OF MY LIFE after spilling it all over my laptop the other day, I’m going with the jumpsuit option. It’s surprisingly comfortable! But I won’t speak for the poor man who missed his chance to overtake me in a narrow street and could not help but to witness the series of wedgie un-doing.  As for the weather, I’m really not too sure what’s wrong – my theory is that the thermostat plastic melted onto a permanent state of 32°C (90°F). The manuals were clear though, on claiming I am just one ungrateful bastard for complaining about this beautiful summer weather. I do apologize. Alas, I did do some good banging around with the wrench (The stud-embossed Couronne bag does a fantastic tool-bag make) and now there’s a thunderstorm outside, which means I may have either fixed it or broken it further. We shall see.

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Polo-neck – Uniqlo heattech. Peg trousers – ASOS White. Bag - 3.1 Phillip Lim Pashli satchel. Belt - Marni via the Outnet. Coat – Mango. Shoes – Topshop. Snood – DIY; Thank you Kit for helping with the pics!

Nearly seven years and I still feel like I’m not part of this relationship. This ongoing, abusive at times, although occasionally enthralling relationship with London. I guess the one good thing about it is that it’s an open one so I can make out with Paris, NY, Warsaw without the fear entering into a nasty divorce where I lose half my assets (nectar points at Sainsbury’s mostly), although perhaps there lies the problem…? I’ve been punched around by inefficient performance in banking, transport and OH MY GOODNESS the weather, but sometimes it reveals such hidden beauty I fall right back head-over-heels in love. Like when it does this, or the Notting Hill area par example, which I’d completely forgotten about living in the other side of town. It’s like swapping sleeping sides and suddenly realizing he/she’s pretty sexy from this side of the bed. Of course, the weather thing still makes London essentially an asshole because believe it or not, these photos were taken back in November 2012 when Winter was just arriving and guess what, I just stuck my hand out the window and it’s exactly the same temperature. IT’S NEARLY APRIL, AND STOP LEAVING YOUR SOCKS AROUND THE HOUSE WILL YOU.

Although clearly I’m the man in the relationship judging by how I dress.

Cable-braid turtleneckCargo trousers

Cable boatneck1969 legging cordsFairisle socks

Wool military coat. Dot skinnies. Leather toteFairisle scarfIvory epaulette shirt

Above: Khaki shirtdress – GapFairisle cardigan – Gap. Bag - 3.1 Phillip Lim via Monnier Freres. Shoes - Miista; Thank you Kit for helping with the photos!

In lieu of what I wrote the other day, about how my life is spectacularly extra, extra ordinary, and that dressing is dressing up, this post comes at good time. I’m not going to pretend and say this is what I wear when I’m, for example, at home eating a perfectly-cut bowl of fruit or reaching for a CD from the top shelf. Who uses CD’s anymore, anyway? (Wait, I don’t get dressed for Spotify either.) My floordrobe consists of pieces that specifically weren’t made for my gender (brother’s old sweatshirt, hubby’s cardigan…etc), which shuffles slightly depending on what time of the month it is and whether I want to smell of smeared chocolate or not. Gap asked for my favourite winter basics from their current season to be edited into a Christmas wishlist, and I thought it might be fun to shoot a few scenarios and what I wish I were wearing, had I been blessed with diligence, or common hygiene.

Disclaimer: This is not a sponsored post, believe it or not.

Dolce & Gabbana, 70% off

Matthew Williamson at ~£250


Prada perspex sandals; Bally boots

Burberry classics (around ~£200 mark)

Church’s brogues; Aquascutum red trenchcoat

Not my bags…

ASUS Transformer tablet with Kindle App

Mulberry envelope receipt holder for £35

Sweater – Gmarket, Shirt – Uniqlo, Jeans – Radcliffe Jeans, Shoes – Pierre Hardy for GAP, Watch – ASOS, Bag – Vehla Tote Bag NIV-E
, Sunglasses -Jeepers Peepers

This was such a gorgeous day, with one of those exotic weathers that London is yet to call back… I took a day off for a trip up to Bicester Village (designer outlet village just outside Oxford) with Kit, my usual honeymoon partner, with the invitation of lovely Laura of Chic Outlet. Rosy feelings aside, I must confess that while I was putting this post together I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment in myself…

This blog has been steadily growing in my life to a point that it now amounts to a considerable portion of my polyjuice potion (me in a bottle) Truthfully, I don’t remember when was the last time I had a pep-talk with dear old self and looked back for self improvement. I can’t help but notice that this lack of reflective thinking and letting diem be Carpe‘d while I enjoy the scenery on autopilot have somehow led me to a rather unfamiliar territory. To this day I have never considered packing a bag and arranging travel to a destination with the sole purpose of shopping, possibly for the same reason there’s very little body revealing in this blog. I don’t mean to disdain – I too like shopping – but this time I feel like I’ve gone too far and tickled the Materialism beast. I know I had plenty fun that day, but on hindsight I don’t know what road this blog is taking me and to be honest I’m rather nervous.

To Bicester Village’s defence, the pricetags are digestible and the landscape is immaculate, and if your kidney needs a Dolce & Gabbana bejewelled boots then you know where to go. Alas, the beauty of this blog is that now it has a mind of its own and despite what I write here, if a visitor is inclined to skip the reading, then my reflection on virtue & yadda yadd will simply be dissolved into bytes, but ah, c’est la pee pee.