I've moved on...
...to a different domain. Why, what were you thinking? The truth is, I just woke up one day and decided it's time for a change—a metamorphosis, if you will; or, in layman's terms, if Britney can shave her head, then maybe so can I? Nevertheless, it's been a rather handsome 10 years of talking to you, and thank you for putting up with all my moodswings and terrible dad jokes. Fear not! The hormonal imbalance and jokes are more terrible on CUBICLE, see you there.

Pink lemonade, Pimms, fingerfood, champaigne, iced water, boys with 7/3 parted hair, pretty blonde… and why am I describing the photos?

Duke Meadows Tennis Club, W4

Oh the places I get to visit with this blog… I swear sooner or later I’ll be posting photos of a dog pound because, I don’t know, YSL decides to make collar tags out of melted Arty Oval Rings for animal hospice charity. Not that I’m complaining. Two sports I’ve always enjoyed playing since young were football (soccer) and tennis – now mere pockets of memory stored in butch thighs and arms, also all of which are now basically flubber. Now that the World Cup is entering real entertainment and Wimbledon’s just launched a few days ago, I can proudly raise this sign over my forehead in celebration of the double W.

Polo Ralph Lauren, the official outfitter of Wimbledon, outstretched their hands to a few (tennis, fashion) bloggers to sit in a live interactive virtual broadcast Tennis Clinic with Annabel Croft and Boris Becker. To be honest, I was intimidated by the atmosphere when I arrived in my crop-shirt and Fred Perry’s (invitation read ‘soft soled shoes’, frustrating demand for fashblogger), to find rich folks in summer blazers and smart day dresses. Even the kids were dressed as Ralphies. I gave my best shot at invisibility by seeming just too busy chomping down every piece of fingerfood to want to socialize.

I’d have requested an interview with Boris Becker, except, I am a fashion blogger and what would I ask, ‘What do you feel about your all-white combo today?’ Sorry for the disappointment.