I.love.Vogue

During an 8 hour shift at All Saints one is given a mere 1 hour lunch break. Yesterday I spent the majority of that hour flicking through the March 2010 edition of Vogue, cliche as it may sound as an aspirational fashionista, but I was pleasantly suprised by what I came across.

My fashion palette was tickled by the numerous ad campaigns I saw, ranging from Mulberry to Orla Kelly, Pepe Jeans to Vivienne Westwood, some being composed of only 1 photograph, but even that 1 image is enough to encapsulate the viewer.

And even 1 image is enough to shock the viewer too, as Tom Ford knows all too well. His new Spring/Summer 10 eyewear ad campaign is one that made me look twice, and even stuck in my brain enough for me to sit and spend a little time researching the designer, the products and most of all his previous ad campaigns. I won't spend time babbling about his fashion past and achievements, but I will talk about these photographs.

After visiting the official Tom Ford site and browsing through his past aw/ ss eyewear ad campaigns, all of the shoots have similar elements; nudity, sexuality, pure flawless beauty, simplicity. All of these elements draw in the viewer, and as shocking as they may first seem, once the initial gasps have faded, the viewer's attention is simply focused on the glasses, something which Ford has very cleverly achieved, by dismissing any fuss or detail or distractions; simple naked forms combined with playful scenes and themes, tickling the viewer while making sure the main visual focus is the product; a very clever way of promoting his brand.
Brilliant.

Oh, and I also stumbled across Ford's fragrance campaign, cheeky to say the least.

press.pass

So over the past few days my head has been pretty busy with hundreds and hundreds of thoughts, from tiny topics of whether to have a bacon sandwich or crunchy nut for by 1.30 breakfast/brunch, to dreams of seeing John Mayer in May (not quite dreams as I do have tickets :) ). From contemplating how to post my e-bay items to panicking over whether I will in fact be working at the up and coming London Fashion Week; everything is up in the air to say the least. 

However, Tuesday night just happened to provide a little clarity in my dazed&confused mind. As well as my tedious 16 hours a week in retail, I am also working for a video website called Winkball. Tuesday night, me and my fellow reporter were sent to cover the long anticipated return of Hot Chip at Rough Trade, Brick Lane. It was the bands first gig in over a year, and also the first live play of their new album. Usually as reporters wearing our bright yellow polo tops and blue blazers (very north london private- school- esque and totally breaking any fashion rules I may have once had) , we stand little chance of getting into a gig unless it is pre-arranged. However, thanks to our flimsy little press passes and a flutter of the eyelashes, we managed to blag our way a spot at the front of the intimate gig. 

I have never seen the band live, and I have to say, I don't know why; I absolutely loved them. From the second the music started, my head was bobbing and my feet were tapping, everyone around me seemed to be as captivated as I was, eyes fixated on the stage, whilst their minds were totally absorbed by the music. And for that 45 minutes, every high speed thought in my mind completely vanished. Bliss. 

And to top this daze-like, music enriched frame of my mind, we were lucky enough to meet Al and Alexis from the band. Al dressed quite plainly in a white t-shirt after shedding his shirt earlier in the night, while Alexis combined a pair of mustard yellow trousers with a bright orange patent pair of brogues, and as un-co-ordinated as it may sound, he actually looked pretty cool, breaking all the colour faux pas rules and doing it pretty darn well. 

Hot Chip, welcome back with your alley cats and colour comibinations.

Click here link to Wall

diamonds are the fans

Okay, so my first impression of this gal, was that she was pretty much trying to copy Flo,  who's drumming song and dog days rank pretty high in my top 25 most played, I wasn't a fan of Marina to say the least; from the composition of her stage name, to the somewhat bizarre lyrical subject matter, everything about her reminded me of Florence and her machine.

Even when my boyfriend got on his I.know.everything.high.horse and informed me that the 'Diamonds' part of the name was actually talking about her fans rather than the band she performs with, I still just couldn't warm to her.

And then he showed me this. And for some reason, my opinion completely switched, remarkably after all my opposition, I actually quite like her. 

Maybe it's because she looks pretty in the video. Maybe it's due to my fascination at how she creates the diamond. Or maybe it's her rambling about crackers. Who knows.

In our house made of paper

I am a little too obsessed with this video.

Ellie Goulding- under the sheets. I adore the song, but it's the video I seem to keep refreshing.

An American Apparel hoody combined with a sparkle covered top, it shouldn't work, but it does.

Pulsating lights of all different shapes and wattages, perfectly in time with the music.

As simple as it may seem in comparison to the high-price and complicated videos produced in this day and age, I think its simplicity allows one to really appreciate the art direction, an absolute beaut.

0.54- 1.24 is by far my favourite part.

Enjoy

p.s embedding disabled on youtube so I'm gonna have to just post the url, lame

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Navl4fYI-Zk

DM love

Doctor Marten: The British Boot, ironically created by a German ( well, we were all nearly the same race).

I remember when I first really noticed and appreciated the Bouncing Soles; it was last year, perhaps the year before, and whilst aimlessly flicking through a magazine, glazing over the typical trends of the time, a photograph of Daisy Lowe caught my eye. She was dressed like your average london living girl, printed tee accompanied by a grey cardigan and not forgetting the black skinnies, no glamour, no glitz, a scruffy bun and minimal make-up, but what really caught my eye was the glistening pair of patent pink DM's she was sporting, they were the outfit maker. These 2 little boots, perfectly polished and gleaming, had the ability to totally change the message of her look, from ' the model who couldn't quite be bothered to make the effort for tonight's event' to ' Daisy Lowe and THOSE boots'.  

They are a fine example of a fashion breakthrough, one of few pieces within fashion that will never lose their spark, the moment you see them, it's just love, the kind of love a mother has for a child some might say.

I was reminded of their beauty today, a good friend of mine was sporting a gleaming white pair in a photograph, and as soon as I saw them, there it was, that adoration I had felt for such a long time before realizing I could not afford them in my life; and I came to the conclusion, I need a pair in my life. No arguments or questions, I must have them.

My birthday is 70 days away, if you love me enough to get me the best present ever, I will be the biggest grinning cheshire cat. And if not, it will be £115 of my slaving retail money well spent.

Move over Daisy, they're mine.

motherly love

I did have something productive to post today

HOWEVER

it is going to have to wait

My room is in the loft, I have an en suite, and in that en suite there is a toilet, a sink and a shower.

At this moment in time, my toilet is being an absolute rectum (no pun intended), and has decided to break, very inconvenient as I am feeling rather slobbish recently, and making my way downstairs every time my bladder feels partially full, is an effort. You are probably wondering what point I am trying to make. 

Well here it is. My mum has decided to remove any roll/few sheets of toilet paper from my en suite, and what I am wondering is WHY?

If i happen to forget that my toilet is temporarily out of service, how in any way is having no toilet roll going to help me? Especially as I am one floor above everyone else, and the first floor usually being the preferred hang out for my family, therefore meaning I would have to call down 2 flights of stairs for help, what possible logic is there in this mother?

My conclusion: She is using it as punishment. And these are the exact words I expect to hear should I ever find myself in such a dire position of sitting on the loo with no toilet paper, shouting for hours for someone to help..

'Well, that'll teach you, I told you not to use it', whoever said motherly love didn't exist.

2am SNOW-TIME