Vest – Coach 1941 PreFall16. Bag – Coach ‘Rogue’. Suede top – Gestuz. Skirt – Kenzo. Shoes – Kurt Geiger.

All – Coach 1941 PreFall16

All – Coach 1941 PreFall16

V-Sweater – Coach AW15. Leather wrap-skirt- ASOS. Front-slit trousers – Cheap Monday. Heels – Kurt Geiger (similar). Backpack – Coach Mount Plaid collection. Turtleneck – Zara.

Sweater – StyleNanda. Leather trousers – ASOS. Wallet – Coach Mount Plaid collection.

In light of recent events that left the world sick to its guts (save for pockets inhabited by human degenerates chanting under the same banner), I had contemplated whether pushing yet another, self-infused, colour-clad story was the appropriate stance for a Monday morning. I had spent the weekend mourning for a city I loved, for the friends (from Beirut, Paris, Ankara and further) I cherish like family, and a humanity that proclaims to be under God yet Godless in action. There were moments of utter disbelief, powerlessness, of loathing; but this morning I woke up to a London enveloped in milky fog and odd silence, and decided to get on with things, with zeal – if not more. To love life and celebrate light, because if pre-school taught anything, it’s that thriving in your current disposition is the only effective way to deal with bullies. So dear readers, keep calm, and carry on – and rejoice in the fact that with this, we raise a middle finger to those who envy and terrorize freedom, love and peace. And here, an oufit post to raise the stakes – choke on that, bully.

With that said, my heart goes out to those affected in the attacks, regardless of resolution. I hope you find rest in knowing the world breathes at the same tempo today.

Place Charles de Gaulle: the deathtrap of a roundabout in central Paris where twelve straight avenues cross intersect in a star-formation – a place where I have sworn I will eventually die no matter what mode of transport I’m in/how veteran of a driver may be commanding the wheel/handlebar – is possibly the best I can do to explain Fashion Month to those outside the industry. It’s that noise, the lack of traffic lanes of any sort, the uncomfortable closeness to fellow comrades marching around the roundabout, and having to manoeuvre through the full circuit without crashing into, say, a scooter, or a blithe pedestrian (most possibly a tourist – even in the metaphor) (how many a German tour group experienced a Lion King-esque streetstyle photographer stampede towards Kendall, I do wonder) trying to jay-walk his way across to the Arc de Triomphe and wreaking havoc to any conceived order in this chaos. That is Fashion Month, for me.

In this equation, London is a relative comfort zone only due to the fact that the bed is familiar and the husband is baffled IRL (instead of ‘Y U DO DIS’ goodnight messages on WhatsApp), but the chaos is as thick. Tickets are missing, Simon – my source of enthusiasm in all this – ever scrambling in pursuit of some order in chaos (an impossible feat), and of course, the new Soho venue is simply a ‘hilarity’. Between all that, the fresh, new collections are the only clear sound in the commotion, that and the Apartment – a sanctuary known to digital somebody’s in the same plight. It may hustle and bustle, but anywhere that’s stocked with burgers, nap-pods, emergency Kurt Geiger, and infinite charge-stations is a clear win in this roundabout of death. In fact it’s like taking residence in the Arc de Triomphe, which coincidentally is also one of the best vantage points of the city (Alice knows).

Here’s a scribble and a song, on the past season in London. More a scribble, because even after three weeks of supposed R&R my ears are still ringing of shell-shock. But I suppose that’s just me, getting closer to my 30’s and the bottomless barrel of excuses that come with. Call us a cab, BECAUSE I’M 30 AND WALKING IS DIFFICULT. Heck, I can’t wait to be 50.

GTG, husband’s just texted me a ‘Y U DO DIS’ from the other room.

09:10 Japanese Breakfast at Koya Bar

10:01 Soho traffic is actual comedy

10:16 Stripes = YAS. At J.JS.Lee

12:20 Picnic-chic at Mother of Pearl: Season’s Favourite

Wool-piqué top
Mother of Pearl

Twist Lock Bag
Louis Vuitton

Love Chords Bracelet
Park & Cube for X Jewellery

Platform Sandals
Kurt Geiger

Platform Sandals
Kurt Geiger

L Der Watch
Larsson & Jennings

Platform Heels
Kurt Geiger

Top – Zara. Skirt – Louis Vuitton. Trousers – Finders Keepers. Shoes – Kurt Geiger

Burberry SS16

Blazer – Each x Other. Blouse – Raquel Allegra. Bag – Baraboux

Dress, bag & Shoes – Louis Vuitton. Trousers – Zara. Sunnies – Dior.

I feel like a big part of the process of becoming an adult, is the ability to brutally edit down some very broad choices in life to an easily digestible-yet-not-so-round number of three. How many little pigs? Three. Musketeers? Three (not sure if those particular ones are life choices…). How many people in a priest, a minister and a rabbi joke? My point is, three is a catchy number, and that’s the number of takeaways I can find in my past 7-days Deliveroo log, and number of words in one of my favourite phrases: Just get naked. (Or I’m lovin’ it)

I’ve spent most of my 20’s leasing space in the beauty pouch to what would now be collectively a sizeable lipstick assortment, which, if laid side-by-side and compared, would simply divide into three categories: the everyday, classic red, and the pizazz. As shown above. The dark purple gothy glittery number doesn’t even make it into the bag.

So this is a story we shot during PFW, celebrating Bobbi Brown’s new Luxe Lip collection as one of the digital ambassadors, and also an semi-official dubbing of the three colour categories that I’ve nailed down and can now move onto my next ‘three favourites’, in the grand path of becoming an adult.

In collaboration with Bobbi Brown & Shopstyle.

this is a photo Diary(ish) of a twenty-something year-old taking on seven days in new york city for fashion week, one hot minute a time. watch as she steps into a puddle of trash juice and denies the whole thing happened, then does a marylin monroe over subway fart in front of a gaggle of construction workers. it’s ok, she is proud about it all.

I can never go back, can i.

Dress – 2nd DAY. Skirt – ASOS (similar). Hat & Bag – Kurt Geiger. Watch – Larsson & Jennings. Bracelet – X Jewellery.

As usual, the effect of New York to this European-to-the-core is that of whiplash, whatever medal I mentally award myself for packing semi-appropriately for the weather (contrary to the numerous occasions in the past in which I had completely missed the memo about either blood-stopping cold or biohazard heat). The minute you get in that Uber at JFK, it’s Keep your hands in at all times, and better secure those sunglasses because they will fly off on the next loop. If a New York minute is to Johnny Carson, the interval between a Manhattan traffic light turning green and the guy behind you honking his horn, to me it’s that (ever so slightly dejecting) micro-moment when the tax gets added onto a bill. One minute you have the exact change, the next minute you’re splitting your $100 note and getting a Robin Hood sack of change in coins. My point is, seven days in New York is but a blink of an eye, and at the end of it all, you’re just in sheer amazement of how much you managed to take in such beautiful grandness, smelly, screaming awesomeness, in that split second of a minute. Well here’s me trying to explain in photos.

And of course, it’s just too bad a London Minute is essentially the customer ahead of me in the Royal Mail Post Office checkout line, which means I’m looking forward to being in New York again in about TWO BILLION YEARS.

Bag – Kurt Geiger

Dress – Coach. Culottes – Finders Keepers. Bag – Coach. Boots – Kurt Geiger. Watch – Larsson & Jennings. Bracelet – X Jewellery.

Shoes – Kurt Geiger. Trousers – Filippa K. Top – Carven.