Sweater, trousers – Charlie May. Shirt – Junya Watanabe. Sneakers – Coach.
By Boe
Miansai
Fleur du Mal
Y’s
Junya Watanabe
Maison Margiela
MySwears
Shirt – Junya Watanabe. Skirt – ASOS.
In collaboration with Farfetch
It’s that time of year again, when you’ve just done dusting Halloween sweets off your chin and immediately a school of reindeers materialize above you, harnessed by a string of fairy lights, attached to a (glittery, it has to be glittery) sleigh of some sort. You yell ‘STAHhhP’ and try to protest, but you can’t deny that the days are shorter, colder and that toffee nut latte is exactly the thing you need to replenish the calories lost shivering in your ill-heated office. You feel bad and dust the top with a bit of your husband’s banana-tasting protein powder, for which you later get yelled at for spilling all over his gym bag.
Yep, even I – the self-proclaimed Cynic – have taken to mentally dividing shops into gift categories (i.e bag of sweet potatoes at Tesco’s = Husband) and threatening for certain gifts – quite like the cheeky new Coach #GiveCoachorElse holiday campaign, where the Coach girl gets exactly what she asked for. I’m excited to share with my readers here first. See, it’s my kind of campaign, because 1) I, the cynic, have always wanted to punch Santa and 2) one really should be clearer about what they want unless they wanted a drugstore hairbrush for the holidays. This bag, husband, this bag. And vouchers for Five Guys.
In collaboration with Coach as the season’s digital ambassador.
If you happen to know me in real life, or follow along on Snapchat, you know my reaction to fresh-baked pizza, glistening spaghetti, or a steaming burrito wrap: “YAAaaaARS”. As loud as possible, and with a roll of eyes that would knock down a ten-pin bowling line-up. One bite of said burrito would send shivers down my spine and I’d feel an odd sense that I, am in love, with this food, would like to procreate with it, sit under the stars, read poems together about salted caramel, and roast garlic over open flame. #LongTechnicallyInacurrateSentenceDontCare. So, what do I consider sexy, you ask? A bowl of phô wearing Agent Provacateur.
On occasion of Zalando’s #SHAREYOURSEXY #UK campaign with Calvin Klein Underwear, fronted by ultrababe Joan Smalls, here are a few other things that I think sexy: Food, great sense of humour underlined by dirty jokes and sarcasm – sharp enough to make sashimi out of any serious/non-serious situation – and nerds. Talk to me ONLY using lines from LOTR and you can be Ron to my Hermione (also must be proficient in at least two FPS games and own a gaming mouse).
What’s your Sexy?
Alice inhales a bag of potato crisps between each motorway exits on the M4, West out of London. My hands are on the wheels (11-2, I swear, Brian) and concentrating on juggling the gearstick and the clutch. Due to an unexpected delay to our journey we, quite literally, are riding into a golden sunset, and I can’t help but sneakily press a button to peel the roof off the Jaguar F-TYPE and put on Sade’s ‘Smooth Operator’. Yeah, I’d like to think I’d have done well with the girls had I been a man.
It’s another escape, although this time more an escap-ade, with Alice Gao of Lingered Upon, to celebrate her first time in the UK. Like I said before, this is my preferred way of throwing parties: borrowing handsome (read: sexy) wheels and nipping out to the countryside. (It seriously is the best way to spend birthday money, given all requirements such as age/driving experience are met) Screw elaborate, expensive soirees where you end up frazzled by small-talk/up in a closet – borrow a car, grab a versatile camel coat (like this Max Mara beauty called Manuela from Selfridges) and honk from your friend’s doorstep. Roof down, of course.
Our destination? The road. And eventually, Bath – town set in the rolling South-West England, much better known for its natural hot springs and 18th Century Georgian structure. And home to Cereal Magazine, a visit to which is also on our agenda. In the meantime, a thick milky fog settles and we wade through – mostly with trepidation as the road gets narrower – but gabbing about everything and anything, music purring away gently with the car.