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Archive for July, 2011

I know you don’t believe me, but I have about 5 posts I am ready to write. However, the photos continue to sit on my blackberry. I’m going to start to post them now. I’ll do one each week (I promise) So, I’m sure by October I’ll still be posting my summer outfits – oh well, it is England where you wear the same clothes all year round.

In the beginning of July, J and I went to the Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland.

We stayed with my friend Charles and his lovely, sparkly girlfriend – Anne-Sophie. Their home (in Lausanne) is amazing. They have a one-of-a-kind terrace that overlooks Lake Geneva. As you can see from the pics, we spent as much time as we could on the terrace which meant we ate our breakfasts and dinner out there. Perfection.

On arrival we had a nightcap on the terrace and this was the view (yes, this is the life!)

On Saturday morning, we breakfasted (again on the terrace) and then took the train to Montreux. Unlike the rest of my future posts, I actually got to wear some summery clothes as it was quite hot while we were there. We even got to go for a dip in the lake.

Breakfast on the Terrace

Here we are in technicolour on the train to Montreux

Montreux's Stately Hotel where B.B.King was staying.

We walked along the boardwalk. However, it was a slow stroll as we had to keep stopping to admire and take photos of the view.

Charles with his new camera in a light airy cotton top and shades

Charles had a new camera which was brilliant at capturing the views but also J’s new moustache (you have to click through).

There was also loads of food and drink at every turn. However, I would say not as much jazz as I would like, but with a postcard backdrop who can complain.  I have to admit Montreal’s Jazz Festival is far superior for the music, but Montreux’s location beats them all. I’m sure these photos will convince you.

Why didn't J tell me to suck in my stomach?

Anne-Sophie is wearing the cutest of dresses. It was a patchwork of many cool pieces of silk. I, on the other hand, was wearing my very very old white trousers with pink racing stripes from The People Have Spoken  that I have had FOREVER and a white tank. I paired it with some green Palladium shoes (not that they matched) which I bought last year in France (worn more appropriately here).

On Sunday, J and I made the short train ride back to Montreux again. It was another hot day, so I just threw on some jean shorts and an off the shoulder t-shirt bought on vente-privee last year. Interestingly or more appropriately scarily, I’ve had these shorts since university. I used to wear them over tights in the winter with boots and a crazy leather jacket (not much changes, does it?)

Artie shot of off-the-shoulder blue tee

My shoes

The View Again

Shemeia Copeland was brilliant

I have to shout out Shemekia Copeland who was brilliant. After an afternoon and early evening of outdoor music, J and I jumped on the train back to Lausanne and was welcomed by an amazing salmon dinner on the terrace. Awww. Thanks Charles and Anne-Sophie!

Dinner

We spent Monday at the lake splish splashing around

On Monday, we went to the lake (above). I had worn this white Dari Meya top belted over the jean shorts I wore on Sunday. However, I figured I would freeze on the plane. So, I threw on my jeans and my silver flats from Venise before heading back to London.

Heading home

The new buttons from La Drogerie in France

I changed the original buttons (see them here) to ones I found in Nice at  La Droguerie when visiting YYZ.

OK… how’s that for an update? Not much in the way in fashion, but at least you get a sense of one of our weekend’s away.

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This post is looooong overdue. I am suffering from a fairly serious bout of PTD, a syndrome identified by YVR when we returned from our ‘Round Europe Backpacking Extravaganza, lo these many moons ago. At the time, it was PED– Post-Europe Depression–  but as we (lucky ducks!) began to travel a bit more, it evolved to become Post-Trip Depression.

One of the symptoms of PTD is a tendency to wear only the clothes you wore on your trip (particularly horrifying when I consider the grubby t-shirts and the much-maligned Roots sweatshirt of the European Backpacking Extravaganza). Another symptom is the inability to look at one’s photos of the wonderful trip– it is just too depressing to revisit it, as doing so only reminds you of how fabulous the trip was and how pathetic and pale real life is, by comparison. It also reminds the traveller how fleeting the magnificent trip was, causing further depression.

My beautiful friend enjoys the sunset in West Bay.

BUT, while LHR and were walking the Dorset coast, amid being continually gobsmacked by the insanely gorgeous English countryside, we were thinking of you, Gentle Reader, and of this blog. The thing is, we were wearing the same darn thing, pretty well every day– not exactly inspiring, style-wise. Though, as you will see, LHR managed to avoid my “Sprouty Canadian Girl” look in favour of  a “Glamour First” approach to hiking. How, we wondered, could we bring you the sartorial splendour of our talking walking tour?
The beautiful English countryside provided us with the answer.


For those of you who have never done it, wandering the English countryside means spending a lot of time in farmers’ fields. Sometimes, there is livestock.

Sometimes, that livestock is aggressive.

"Horses very much in evidence."

Always, there are stiles.

How stile-ish!

And so, I bring you the Stile Council post, with apologies to Paul Weller and company.

Day 1 saw us leaving from West Bay,

taking the bus to Charmouth and walking up a very steep hill, once we had stocked up on biscuits and Turkish Delight from the caravan park tuck shop at the bottom of said hill.

Here I am, all ready to go, having already peeled off a layer in the unseasonable and very welcome heat of Easter weekend in the U.K.:

Yes, I know– call Vogue.

Several (hundred) stops to “admire the view” on the way up (ahem!) and we found ourselves at the top of the cliffs of the Dorset coast. Here is some of what we saw there:

Stopping to "admire the view," a.k.a. heave some air into our flabby lungs...

This was actually part of the Day 2 hike, but we did it on Day 1, I think (we were waiting for our bus-- we missed the first one and had to wait 2 hours...:) ). Note the insanely stylish sunnies on LHR!

Of course we made sure to sport only the loveliest of shoes. Here, we are on our way up to the Golden Cap.

I am wearing a T-shirt from H&M. LHR is wearing one from All Saints-- fancy!

LHR purchased herself a fancy sun hat at M&S in Weymouth on our way to West Bay. It was pretty clear from the get-go that we were going to be needing sun protection– I got the best tan of my life while walking the Dorset coast, as we had, quite literally, FOUR DROPS of rain in the entire 8 days of our walk.

Stile-in'.

Those are sailboats out in the ocean! On the way from Weymouth to Lulworth Cove.

More to come in another post- there are already way too many photos in this post, so I will divvy them up and post more later on.

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LHR: Squeaks and Bleeps

Last Friday J and I had a really nice night at the Vortex Jazz Club in Dalston. It was a last minute decision to go there, but it was a good decision.

That night, the line-up didn’t feature any  jazz. Rather,  it was all about squeaks and bleeps and dials and what appeared to be some home-made *instruments*. I’m sure there is an actual genre – perhaps transient? You know me, I’m not in the know (EVER). That being said, they were great. I particularly got in to the Hacker Farm guys who have the following on their website – broken music for a broken Britain.

Boxcutter was also amazing! He’s a one man show – a young Irish chap with the most adorable smile (and obviously creates the most spectacular sound)  While, not on purpose, at the end of his set the amps/transformer or whatever that dialy-bit is called blew up. It was quite a spectacle for a small intimate club like the Vortex.

Anyway, that was our night. Aren’t we the hipsters? We actually made it out on a Friday night past 9pm. Anyway, this is what I wore to work (with gold shoes) and then threw on the higher ones for the evening. As you can see – nothing new here. This dress has got to be over 12 years old or more. Oh dear. Is it time to retire it?

Discovering the gig in the Time Out

Need a jacket to keep warm in the evening

The flats I wore during the day make riding my bike to work a breeze

Switched to some chunky heels for the evening (not required of course)

What I wore?
Jacket: short sleeve, buck-skin and twill (YYZ? is that right), by Louis de Gama  (worn before here)
Dress: Black and Yellow Silk dress from Barbeau in Montreal (oh so many moons ago – worn last year here)
Tights: yup, I wore some mid-calf leggings to keep me warm
Shoes: gold office ballet flats for the day and chunky black wedges for evening
Earrings: vintage (no idea where they came from)
Bracelet: it’s actually my necklace, I bought on the streets of NY a few years back.

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LHR: Hello Dolly.

Today was a Dalston day. I actually plan to highlight much of what I did in an upcoming post or two on this blog or on my other one. However, right now I’ll just post what I wore when we went out this evening.

J, Nick (J’s cousin) and I had a nice BBQ in our back garden and then went to the new Arcola theatre. We saw Ibsen’s A Doll’s House.  As you can see from the shots here, the set was amazing. The whole production was wonderful – direction, acting, everything.

The poster gives you a flavour of the show

The set had hundreds of white tea cups and frames hanging from the ceiling

A Doll's House

Perhaps, knowing I was going to see A Doll’s House precipitated this child-like outfit. Judge for yourself.

End of the night ...

Shirt bought at a Boot-Sale with YYZ

After the play we stopped in at the Dalston Roof Park  for a drink high above the Dalston skyline. Actually, the view was pretty dam good. Evidently, they have movies up there sometimes too (Goonies is on July 27th). It wasn’t quite Shoreditch House with all the rich advertising and media people poising, but it was more our style. Plus unlike Shoreditch House where membership is costly and frankly unattainable, our membership was free.

A bit of the hall decor on the way up to the Rooftop

Nic and me on the rooftop at Dalston Roof Park

What I wore:

Hair: Black Flower from Aldo in SF (you can only see it in the photo with Nic and me)
Shirt: Salmon Coloured Zara Top (thanks to Boot-Sale in Dorset France (see this post for details) with YYZ)
Shorts: Black from Mango
Socks: bought at Vente-Privee
Shoes: Gold Ballet Flats from Office
Bracelet: Salmon Vintage Bracelet (bought from vintage fair in Prince Edward County)
Cardigan: Black ruffles from YYZ

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Well, hello. Yes, it is me. LHR. I’m back now and want to share an outfit that might give you a sense of where I’be been.

Turns out that today’s outfit was purchased on various business trips. I’ll let my clothes (and haircut) do the talking.

Souvenirs from my Business Travels

Yes, even the shoes were bought on a trip.

Only the earrings are vintage.

Where I picked up these babies?
Shoes: Black & Gray Stilettoes, purchased on trip to NYC in 2009. (first seen here), Steve Madden
Skirt: Zara (seen here), purchased in random European Airport. I think Munich around 5 years ago
Shirt: Mango, purchased in SFO airport last week
Earrings: Vintage
Haircut: Thanks to Robert at the Deva Chan Salon in NY (last week).

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YYZ: Princess Bride

Over the weekend, in my old haunt of Monaco (LOL!), there was a(nother) royal wedding. I haven’t heard much about it in the press here, but the European press is ALL OVER the story of Charlene Wittstock‘s alleged bid for escape: apparently, she disappeared from the palace early last week and was caught at the Nice airport and “persuaded” to return…. Hmm.

At any rate, she did show up to marry Prince Albert on Saturday, though the civil service was on Friday, I believe– her suit-gown hybrid for that one was positively matronly…

This one is, apparently, Karl Lagerfeld's fault. A hideous Karl Lagerfeld creation? What a HUGE surprise. Not.

Hard at the best of times to live up to a mother-in-law who was a style icon, but a matronly suit on a 33-year-old bride is not an auspicious start, the poor dear.

Here is what she wore for the religious ceremony.

It’s Armani.
I kind of like it, though I think it is too much train for a dress of that silhouette.
What do I know, though? I’m no Giorgio Armani. 😉

And here is the dress she wore to the reception. It’s another Armani.

Oh! How darling are those flower girls?!

Hmm. That is no Kate-and-Wills kiss, is it?

A bit better...?

I feel like wedding shoes should be a tad more fabulous, don't you?

There were also hats. But they were sort of, um, how do I put this…? They were sort of…. disappointing, frankly. You be the judge, Gentle Reader.

Fantastic! Regal, simple, gorgeous.

Another groovy one.

A good idea, somewhat poorly-executed. Looks like paper plates from a wedding shower, glued to a hairband.

Hmm. Another good idea gone bad-- looks like she is wearing an open handbag on her head.

It looks better on Giorgio Armani's niece, Roberta.

This is the wicker paper-plate holder for that girl above's paper plates. I like this one, though!

Oh, dear. All KINDS of wrong, all in one outfit...

That is Louis de Bourbon-- yep, as in "The Bourbon Kings" of France. His wife looks lovely, I think.

Wedding photos: Reuters.
Hat photos from here.

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I have been meaning to do this post for weeks, but keep forgetting to do it!
Now, when my daily outfit consists of grubby shorts and grubby tank top (did I mention we are reno-ing?), is the time; you do not want to see what I am wearing these days!

On my way home from Blighty (sob!) recently, I watched the most wonderful documentary about this incredible guy.
LHR and J, you MUST watch it– you would both love it! So would anyone, really. You don’t have to be into fashion or film (like LHR & J) to find this documentary interesting, I promise. But it is, sort of, related to fashion.

Bill Cunningham is the street fashion photographer for The New York Times. I listen to/watch his videos on Cathy Horyn’s influential fashion blog, so when I saw the film about him, I was delighted! (I hate it when there are no good movies on the flight, don’t you?)

Bill has lived in Carnegie Hall for decades– did you know people LIVED there???  {Probably– it’s the kind of thing everyone knows except me… 🙂 }He is facing (has faced?) eviction from his postage-stamp-sized home, but seems pretty philosophical about the trauma. He is, if this documentary gets it right, about the nicest, sweetest person you can imagine. He is humble and not at all impressed by fame or celebrity.  He is cheerful, though there is an underlying sadness in him.  He was a milliner (!) before taking up photography. In the 80s he was one of the people instrumental in the fantastic, ground-breakingDetailsmagazine. He goes everywhere on his bicycle and in foul weather wears a plastic rain cape, repaired with duct tape. He wears his signature “uniform” blue, many-pocketed work jacket in all weather. He goes to all the NYC society events. He knows and knew EVERYONE who was ever anyone in any New York scene for the past 60 years. (Brooke Astor invited him to her 100th birthday party– he was the only member of the media to be so honoured!) He is courted and flattered and loved by the rich, the famous, the fashionable–  and he is immune to it all. He refuses even to sip water at an event he is photographing. He is not young. He is, frankly, a truly amazing guy. I would love to meet him and have dinner with him one day (though he is not at all interested in food or dinner parties).

 In addition to documenting Bill’s life and work, the movie also evokes a lost New York– a time when the truly eccentric flocked there and found safe harbour when they would not have been accepted elsewhere in American society; it was a time when that was the only place where they would not be marginalized or isolated.  These people, and Bill himself, help to make this not just a film about fashion photography and society insiders; rather, it is a beautiful, wistful and poignant ode to New York and her role as haven for society’s outsiders. And it reminds us how valuable and crucial those people are to the richness of cultural life beyond the mainstream.

See this movie. You won’t be sorry.

(All images from the film’s website.)

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