Leather ‘Ryder’ bag – JOSEPH

Dress – JOSEPH. Shoes – Celine.

‘Ryder’ Bowling Bag – JOSEPH

Holy mother of gherkins, what is that thing you ask. Remember that moment when you near sprained your eyeball trying to see the unicorn in a Magic Eye? You know where you were on that day. Just like 911. We all know when we first ever ‘got’ Magic Eye. Coincidentally, for me it was at a McDonalds birthday bash where the air was laden with sugar dust and this nine-year-old was one orange Fanta away from sprouting propellers and flying (into a coin operated toy).

Man, the dreams I had that night.

That thing, my readers, is the Chapman Brothers for you – for Louis Vuitton’s 76sqm menswear pop-up in Selfridges – manifested in a 10-feet tall giraffe that definitely should not be fed, and Selfridge’s-exclusive bits from Artistic Director Kim Jones’ SS17 and pre-collection with Chapman Brothers’ illustrations of safari animals who look like they’ve also just ‘got’ Magic Eye. The space is a safari itself – inspired by Kim Jones’ childhood in Kenya and Botswana, with a sprinkle of London punk, on ever-emblematic savoir-faire of the Maison – wherein beasts lurk in monochromatic corners, or hide in plain sight. Depends how many Fantas you have before visiting.

In collaboration with Louis Vuitton. Exclusive leather goods only available until January 15th 2017.

Top: Shoes – Christian Louboutin. Luggage – Vintage via eBay.
Left: Glasses – Miu Miu via David Clulow. Earrings – Joumanna Jewellery. Bag – Louis Vuitton.

Dress – HariTHanD. Hat – Vintage.

Blazer & trousers – Filippa K. Shirt – Iris & Ink.

Glasses – Miu Miu via David Clulow. Jacket – HariTHanD. Skirt – Dagmar. Earrings – Joumanna.

Tux jacket & Trousers – Filippa K. Blouse – Iris & Ink. Bag – Vintage Louis Vuitton

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.