Cupboard Love (And Loss)

My wardrobe isn't a very extensive one. None of it is old enough to be called vintage, but it does contain the odd item that dates back to when my age was still in the single digits, and which I still fit into (this doesn't mean I am skinny- far from it in fact, it just means that the young BFH wore a lot of oversized clothes), and of these, the one I loved most was a pink chiffon blouse* that fastened at the neck with a pink chiffon rose. The flower in question wasn't a necessary part of the garment, just a silly bit of frippery, but my nine-year-old, fifteen-year-old and twenty-one-year-old selves can all remember being impossibly in love with it, which might have also been partly due to the fact that the blouse was so delicate that it only got pulled out for Very Special occasions.
The football World Cup final in 2006 was the last of these, which I remember rather clearly because I slopped gin down a sleeve after Zidane headbutted Materazzi. It was also the last time I ever saw The Rose, which was unpinned from the neck in order to save it from the rough-and-tumble of a cleaning it didn't need. Six months later, when a party begged for The Rose to be worn with fuck-off boots and scruffy jeans, it was nowhere to be seen- despite the fact that I'd lovingly wrapped it in tissue paper and tucked it away in a box. Much searching of cupboards ensued, but nothing came of that, and even now I can't bring myself to wear the blouse again, despite the fact that it looks perfectly all right with nothing at the neck. It's still really pretty, though..
I'm rather curious about the sartorial loves and losses of my readers, too- whether via misplacement, destruction, getting given away or grown out of..do tell me about it, please?
*not too far off in shape from this one, only it was sheer, slimmer and had a higher neck. And of course, the one in the picture doesn't have The Rose.


Magical Unrealism

Untitled, 2004
Untitled, 2000
Untitled (LO270), 2004
If there were a single image that most clearly gives away just what occupies the blank space in my head, it would be the desktop background on my laptop, which, for the longest time, was the image at the very top of this post, for no other reason than that it was gorgeous, and I liked to wonder just how and why the dog got up the tree.
I suppose all I really want to say, is that Laura Owens's work is beautiful. There's a dreamlike quality to even her less obviously fantastic paintings that makes me think, rather vaguely, that this is something of what Gabriel Garcia Marquez's writings might look like if he used paint and paper instead of words, and yet that's not quite it- the flat edges of the figures are also a bit reminiscent of Japanese prints, and it's all weirdly moody without slipping over the edge into melancholy. The only thing I do know for sure is that I won't be deleting any of this lot from My Pictures anytime soon...and maybe this interview will be a better read than the post.
(I really don't intend to cheat on posts, but this was once posted to a blog that is no longer accessible to anyone but me, and not sharing the images would be a crime).
images from My Pictures (can't find the url of the original site), and artnet.


All White Rabbit-esque

Is what I have been for the last few days, and look set to be till at least the weekend (leaving home at 8.30 a.m. and returning at 9.45 p.m. does not make for a conducive blogging experience! Also, the old myth that law = pen-pushing desk job? NOT TRUE, at least not of law interns at any rate. Carrying cartloads of files in my arms using the upper body strength of an underweight hamster is more than a bit of a pain)..though the experience of seeing a rather spiffy old lawyer take a meeting wearing patterned braces on his trousers- rather a rarity these days, I wonder where he got them from- did make up for much of it. Also, I spotted pocket-watches in a couple of waistcoats in court yesterday (I like those plenty too, hence the White rabbit reference). Though for the most part, court rules that require lawyers to dress in black and white means they all look like penguins (and with their robes on, they look like bats- or a bit like people auditioning for roles as Hogwarts professors).


Happy Feet

...in painted shoes, that is. The only paint experiment I've witnessed in recent years was done by a classmate who painted her white Bata keds orange and then painted random words all over that in black (the finishing touch was the name of her ex-boyfriend on the sole of the right- or was it left?- shoe, for the express purpose of being stomped on). That was rather cool, and two years later the shoes still look awesome, but paint-splattered shoes in general (despite the fun potential of making and wearing them), are a mildly troublesome concept in places as dusty as the ones we live in, so finding Mathieu Missiaen, an actual shoe painter on Etsy, is more than a little interesting- his work reminds me more of graffiti than paint splatters, plus the shoes would probably never get boring. They're also astonishingly neatly done, and even if the dollar-to-rupee conversion makes the shoe-customising service sound like a silly idea for me ($200 if you send him your shoes), it's still quite something. Also, I like feeding my fun-shoe fetish- for that, if nothing else, the shop is well worth a look.
images from the NDEUR shop on Etsy.


Of Colours And Covers...

Modern fashion magazine covers, especially those of a more mainstream persuasion, tend to annoy me immensely via something I like to call text vomit. It's a syndrome that, curiously enough, is something I see chiefly- in fact I'd go so far as to say only- in fashion magazines (all that info on how to make ourselves stop looking like crap that we'd probably be too thick to find if it weren't spelled out in bold on the cover?). And it's worst when the fonts are in a colour that don't even vaguely mesh with the photograph. Which is why Nylon, which is a magazine I don't actually read that often, needs to be commended for
a) realising it's got a good thing going with its cover girls and not blocking off too much of the image- excellent image, too, I love the purply-bluey-pinkish patterns and whatnots going on in there, and that's even without their choice of covergirls (wonder if
Chloé- the brand that is, not the lady in the centre- has got something high-profile coming up soon? Fresh perfume push, maybe?). But I do love the styling on Chloë the girl and Clémence, especially the former- checked shirts have had dibs on my soft corner since I was fourteen, and it's rather a kick to see one on a cover..
b) Colour-coordinating the text to the girls' clothes. It's not often that brightness is actually harmonious, and methinks this cover is quite an achievement that way..



(WARNING: this post is only tangentially fashion-related, so anyone who doesn't like my rants or thinks they will have mean things to say when I'm done is free- no, encouraged- to click on the little 'x' on the top left-hand corner of your window/tab).
As I've mentioned ad infinitum, I'm crap at reportage. I didn't expect to score anything out of a visit to the India Fashion Week venue, other than a fair bit of person-watching (I got there a bit early, but in the two hours spent out on those grounds, the most interesting person from a style point of view turned out to be a lady in magenta tights, a shiny black, full-sleeved coat and her hair in three - I think- odango buns wrapped in stripy ribbon (the last feature, IMO, was the coolest). Given that temperatures here are set on 'slow bake' right now, I did wonder if she was moving around in a special air-conditioned bubble of her own or something. I probably cut before the Very Stylish started getting there, but it was hot and I was tired of the constant reminders of just how badly outfits can be botched- I've seen enough leggings-as-an-excuse-to-wear-too-short-dresses, not to mention too-tight jeans and too-skimpy tops, to scar me for a lifetime).
But the real kicker, the reason for the title of this post and my top reminder of just why I can positively detest Delhi at times, came not twenty minutes ago, as I was crossing a street in Connaught Place (CP to anyone who's ever been to it). It went as follows:
*BFH, walking along, minding her own business*
*cue shady-looking chap (henceforth referred to as Creep) in shiny striped shirt and jeans, walking along behind BFH*
Creep: Excuse me?
*BFH turns around*
Creep: Can you tell me your name? (note: I'm quoting verbatim)
Thoroughly freaked-out BFH: NO!
Creep: Why? I want to have friendship with you.
*starts walking along behind BFH, who has started walking away at top speed*
BFH, yelling now: BUGGER OFF, and if you dare come near me again I'll call the police! (not an empty threat, since BFH's father is actually in the police).
I hate this. I hate creeps with scuzzy facial hair and dung for brains, who think a girl on her own is a walking invitation for a pickup line, and I hate the stupid culture that breeds them in the first place. I also hate the fact that I seem to be a walking magnet for things like these, and my only option from now onwards will be to stay locked indoors. UGH.
A very pissed off
Blue Floppy Hat


Reportage, Of The Attempted Kind.

Junya Tashiro, AW08-09
So Japan Fashion Week AW08-09 is here at last (and not yet done, either- it doesn't get over till the sixteenth of this month), and the photographs so far are more than a bit interesting for me to look at- colour hasn't been completely eschewed and there's quite a lot of layering and some ruffles(and boots and head coverings and knee socks layered with tights, which makes perfect sense to anyone who believes in being well wrapped up), but monochrome and grey seem to be what's on show, for the most part. Which might be a natural followup to the Spring/Summer shows of last year- those were quite a lot brighter. And yet the monochrome manages to be cheerful in spots (quite an achievement, if you ask me- or is it just me who sees it that way?)- I'm also rather fond of the longer skirts on show at Junya Tashiro, though my true love is the outfit in the picture above.
I'm crap at reviewing things in half an hour, so it's highly recommended that people should just do as I did, and go look at the pictures, here.
Junya Tashiro, AW08-09 Everlasting Sprout, AW08-09
Ne- Net, AW 08-09
Hisui, AW08-09
Ele Tra AW08-09
Ylang Ylang, AW 08-09
Tiny Dinosaur, AW08-09


Oh, Dear.

It's been more than a little surprising to learn that Paolo Melim Andersson is leaving Chloé, after just three seasons on the job, and more surprising still because it really wasn't a badly done job at all, as far as these things go. Designers have been sacked in much shorter time spans earlier (Alessandra Facchinetti at Gucci, for starters), but this is slightly saddening because I actually liked his version of the Chloé girl- not nearly as sugary as the Philo version and a lot stompier, but still quite recognisably a girl. Now that Hannah McGibbon, a Philo-era team member, is going to take charge of the ship, I suppose we'll just have to wait and watch...and hope that no one else whose work I admire gets the fashion version of the pink slip...


Of Streetstyle Girl Crushes

I'm not exactly the first person in the blogosphere to have one, and I haven't shown half the dedication of Dreamecho or Fashion Nation when it came to sleuthing out the identities of theirs ( Rei Shito and Louise The Red-Haired Girl* respectively, whom I also have a giant style crush on)- also it's kind of unnecessary in this case, but I can never fail to love Yasmin Sewell**, not only for wearing her clothes so amazingly, but also (and more importantly) because she looks so bloody happy just to be there, being herself. Which is part of the point of clothes, really, if they help you do just that..

*at least that's what I call her. No surname=me inventing description.

**pictures above by the Sartorialist. Turns out she's left Brown's and is setting up a consultancy. It does sound good..


Leave Of Absence

Just a quick note to let the world at large know I won't be anywhere near a computer this weekend or Monday, and haven't had half the time I'd like to answer comments. Posting will hopefully resume on Tuesday, so I'll just be an absentee blogger till then.
Oh, and while I'm at it, I'd like to wish Style Bubble a very happy second birthday (a full day in advance, but it can't be helped- sorry Susie!).
A very tired
Blue Floppy Hat


Old Hat (Or Bow), But Still...

I wonder if I'm the only one who gets the impression that this:

looks a lot like this:

Or maybe it's just the dark dress and red bow (though methinks anime Kiki's red bow is cuter...and I'm also slightly stupefied to discover that Kirsten Dunst actually did the voiceover for Kiki in the Kiki's Delivery Service English dub!).
Images from Style Bubble and wikipedia .


In Which I Get All Sniffy

I've never been much of a girl for what I call 'done-upness'. Despite the fact that the name of my blog features them, I've never yet met a stiletto I liked, and pencil skirts can sometimes be a pain in the arse for anyone who, like me, likes to take her stairs two at a time without getting scared that something will rip*. However, my general apathy towards old-school beauty rituals is rather lost when it comes to perfume.
Nine perfumes out of ten (probably more, if I were to be honest), smell more or less the same. And it doesn't help anyone's case that they just get sold so much, to the point that they become more easily identifiable by their ad campaigns/endorsers, than their topnotes. One shiny glass bottle after another, it's so easy to get bored...except with a very tiny handful of perfumes that, for me, seemed to work just fine. The first among these was (no surprises, if you looked at the picture above)
Anaïs Anaïs. I got my first bottle when I was thirteen, when the kick of owning it came as much from the fact that this was one bit of frippery I could get away with wearing to school because it didn't count as makeup, as from the smell itself (which was amazing...I may just have a weird nose, because more often than not, Anaïs Anaïs smelled more than a little like wet dust to me- a pretty awesome smell if I say so myself), and the bottle- I loved its old-fashioned look. There's never been anything quite like it- it was my first experience with scent of any kind, and too many of the so-called 'fresh, floral' scents I sniff on occasion are just so...generic in comparison to it). I don't use perfume quite as often now (bad experiences with a broken bottle had something to do with that), though I did briefly try Miss Dior Chérie, which smelled like toffee pudding, and Lanvin's Vetyver (I didn't know it was a guy's perfume! But I do like vetiver..) but nothing quite matches up to it.

*this doesn't mean that I don't wear them. I just like my clothes with a bit of room to maneouevre around in, that's all.
Image from www.johnlewis.com


Wednesday Addams Might Have Approved.

Nightmares Sleeping Beauty Cover 19
Deep Sea Tickle Monster
On the surface of it, Camilla d'Errico's work is cute. In fact, it looks adorable, and my first thoughts on seeing it were of manga girls, with a hint of Cezanne, if Cezanne ever attempted to draw manga (which is not surprising, considering the fact that she's actually done the artwork for several comics). Her paintings are of girls, always cute ones, more often than not with an animal/monster friend in the frame- seemingly sweet things. But on a slightly closer look, the watercolour cuteness can turn out to be a little spooky, verging on grotesque at times, and I can't help feeling that if one of these were ever to hang on my wall, I'd have trouble taking my eyes off it- proof that cuteness can be compelling isn't something that one sees that often. It's a very far cry from the expected reactions that 'girly' art is supposed to evoke, and for that very reason I must say I'm rather hooked, and more than a little sorry that I won't get to go to any of her shows this year...lucky people living in California can go to her first solo show at the Copro Nason gallery in Santa Monica or to Comic-Con in San Diego this July.
If you feel like looking at more of Camilla's work, I'd suggest going to her site
or MySpace, as well as to her online store. And here's an interview with the artist about the experience of working on Nightmares and Fairytales.
All images from http://www.camilladerrico.com, used with the artist's permission and for illustrative purposes only.


"beautiful fish-eyed women who wear alta on the soles of their feet. "

At least that's what commentator #44 on this post over at The Sartorialist, thinks my city is full of*. (they can't have meant any offence, but cliché, much? And - fish-eyed? Again, I know they wouldn't have meant it that way, but I'm getting a slight fit of giggles remembering fish market trips)
I'm still a little stunned by the fact that The Sartorialist is actually going to be here, in this country, by the middle of this month, not to mention wondering what kinds of things are going to end up on the blog from the trip and where exactly he's going to be taking pictures (this might be narrow-minded of me, but I really don't want to see more images of 'exotic India', and certainly not on a blog as good as that one). And overall, it's one big w00t at the very idea...even if most of the things I see people wearing on the street here generally verge between nondescrepit and horrendous (someone get APC and Topshop over here, STAT).

And just for reference, alta is pigment- used, as the line says, to paint feet red. I'm not sure what it's made of exactly, but it is most definitely not a part of standard decoration for Bengali women. Not unless there's a major festival on, anyway.

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Fondest of upbeat music and brightly coloured sweets.