French fancies






No reason for this post other than to add to my stock of style eye candy. Rather disconcertingly they seem to be getting younger every day. I finally bought the spring/summer Self Service mag (mag? It’s more of a book now in its ridiculous hard cover format) after months of baulking at the price (“£16! I’ll buy it next week…”) and inside spotted the fabbest shoot featuring French girl band Plastiscines. Check out the video for Loser at www.plastiscines-music.com.

Style.com’s blog has a post on the new wave of cool French punk-inspired bands including Second Sex. Haven’t checked out their music yet but it transpires they’re part of a group of French bands playing at The Dirty Water Club in Tufnell Park on September 7th.I’m so there…

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London loves Luella





The Luella store is now open! It opened on Monday (cor they kept that quiet) and it’s looking rather good. In my five-minute recce I spied lots of dark wood (including reclaimed floorboards from the 17th century I’m told), painted carved horses heads, the obligatory freebie stickers and badges (um, I presume they’re free, I certainly nabbed a handful) and some gorgeous Luella-tastic clothes.

My favourites: pink cashmere knits, ‘Love, love, love’ T-shirts, bib-front shirts, metallic heart purses and – of course – handbags aplenty.

The shop is next to Jo Malone on Brook Street (off New Bond Street) but you really can’t miss it, it has a giant lit-up heart in the window.

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"I’m not wearing that"



On the whole I love fashion although I’m more interested in the psychology of fashion and the aesthetic beauty of clothes than simply what’s in and what’s out and what some overexposed celebrity is wearing. But it has to be said, sometimes I despair at what designers expect us to wear. I know I don’t have to wear it but if everyone else wears it I do have to look at it. So I hereby present my top 5 ‘”Euwww, I’m not wearing that” list.

Number one: Chloe’s orthopaedic clown shoes.
Come on Paolo Melim Andersson you surely jest. This smacks of trying too hard and being ‘extra’ – ie shocking for the sake of it. Call me boring but I’m stubbornly sticking to my stack heeled boots.

Number two: Dolce & Gabbana’s metallic mini dresses
Ow my eyes! These foil frocks are the epoitome of Dolce & Gabbana’s vulgar, trashy style. Tacky tacky tacky. That’s all.

Number three: Versace’s body-con dresses
These were naff in the eighties and they’re naff now. There I’ve said it, so hate me.

Number two: Giles’ out-there knits
Am I the only one who doesn’t *get* Giles? I can see the boy has talent but he seems so hamfisted with all his collections. He clearly has ideas but I don’t think he executes them with finesse, he seems too keen to shock. I am really hating these comedy cardigans. They seem to serve no purpose other than to offend me. And what the hell is that poor girl wearing on her feet?

Number one: Prada’s entire collection
The plastic-y suits in vomit colours, the footless socks that flatter no-one and the teddy-fur outsize coats. Don’t even talk to me about the plastered-down hair! Emperor’s new clothes anyone?

Pics: www.vogue.co.uk

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