As we launched ourselves at full speed towards the last day of LFW’s AW 2017 season in our carefully-selected-for-comfort mismatched velvet brogues, this rookie fashion writer was inspired, excited, and very very knackered. [Read more…]
Fashion Week brings up all sorts of existential questions. If no one takes a photo of your outfit, did you really wear it? Is the average length of a queue the same as the median length of a piece of string? Do things start to relax by Sunday at LFW, or do they just get more surreal? In some respects, by Day 3 we’d all settled into a routine – we knew what shows we were going to, we were well aware that if one designer ran late we might miss the next, and we’d started to recognise people in the queue. All my tickets were organised by time and I already had an idea which ones I was most excited about.
I could find my way to Freemasons with my eyes closed by Sunday, so if you enjoy irony, it was fitting that my first show was somewhere else. [Read more…]
You might know that I was at LFW with Plus Minus Magazine a few weeks ago, because it’s been pretty much my main talking point ever since. Yes, I am a one trick pony. If you’ve been following this series – or just read yesterday’s post – then you’ll have a bit of an insight into how clueless I was coming into this. I’m not a fashion blogger. I don’t dress like a fashion blogger. My “look” is a little maniacal 80s cartoon baddie meets Rainbow Brite, a little vintage Jem & the Holograms.
I’ve never been the type of person to let a little thing like having absolutely no idea what I’m doing stop me, which is maybe how I started blogging. I have a strange habit of jumping into situations head first, and it’s led to some of the best things in my life. Adopting a dog. Changing career. Opening an art gallery. I’ve wanted to go to LFW for so long, so when the opportunity came along, it really didn’t matter that I wasn’t sure how to dress or what I would write. Sometimes you just need to wing it. [Read more…]
A few weeks ago, I found myself on a train to London. At least once every few months I make that same five hour trip for work, to visit friends, or to eat my way across the city with dogged determination. This was different. This was the one thing I’d brought up in conversation with every friend, acquaintance and cab driver since I got the news. I was going to London Fashion Week.
It started with a post on a Facebook group back in January; PlusMinus Magazine were looking for writers to cover LFW, and I thought I’d try to land one of the places. I genuinely did not expect to be picked. My blog is tiny, I’m a relative newbie, and most importantly, I am NOT A FASHION BLOGGER. I have written a grand whopping total of three outfit posts in the two years since I started blogging, and in one of them I dressed up like a unicorn and made Long Suffering Employee of the Year Rhory take photos of me prancing around my gallery. I am not dignified. I don’t embody casual elegance. My aesthetic is more what the result of My Little Pony’s one-night-stand with a Victorian sailor in a box of Crayolas would look like. [Read more…]
I remember my very first peel-off mask, a slime green gel which smelled distinctly of cucumbers that my mum *let* me buy. I snuck it into her basket alongside her packs of tissues and vitamins, and I rushed home to smear that green goo all over my pre-teen face. I had a weird fascination with spreading that mask on my skin and peeling it off like PVA glue. Once a weirdo, always a weirdo.
I don’t know where I first heard about the skincare company JorgObé, but somehow their Black Peel Off Mask made it onto my radar. It sounded incredible. I have a weird, gross fascination with the gunk in my pores. I still love peeling that sticky, rubbery substance off my skin like some fancy Elmer’s glue. Suck it out of my face, mask. It’s just so satisfying. I’ve not used a peelable mask in years, and *apparently* it’s not the done thing to smear glue all over your face as a beauty treatment when you’re an adult. [Read more…]
Fuck this shit.
How many of us sat in a high school History class, silently judging the people of Nazi Germany? Why didn’t they do something? Why did no one help? We considered them complicit. We would have acted differently; we would have been louder, or stronger, or braver. We would have done something…right?
Maybe it’s complacency. In the half century or so since the end of WWII, with the memory of the atrocities of Hitler and co still somewhat fresh in our minds, Nazi sympathisers and neo-Nazis laid low. There were people still alive who remembered the war. Holocaust survivors with crude tattoos still etched on their skin, children and grandchildren asking what the numbers meant. People were still hurting. People still remembered. [Read more…]
Veganuary. It’s a funny word isn’t it? Looks much better written down than it sounds, that time of year vegans can get excited about the influx of newbies ready to give up meat and milk for the month of January. Will they stick at it? Will they go back to their omni ways? Will they whinge about cheese?
Veganuary deals in Edinburgh tend to be offers from chain restaurants, which are…ok. Not spectacular. I wanted to try something new. Something more exciting than a vegan burger or a pizza. This January I had big plans to show my omni friends how delicious vegan food can be, and so this had to be impressive. These are die-hard chicken eaters I’m dealing with, you see. These friends have *shudder* pepperoni on their pizzas. They order *ugh* sweet and sour chicken from the Chinese takeaway. They *I can’t believe I’m saying this* have meatballs with their pasta. No, an average vegan meal just would not do here. I was planning to bring out the big guns. [Read more…]
“Try new things”, they said.
“It’ll be fun”, they promised.
“The weather’s too shitty to spend outside anyways”.
This is how an artist (Kara), an aspiring architect (Leanne), a Food & Drink writer (Emily) and an interior designer (moi) wandered into Summerhall with pencils and sketchbooks and some very rusty illustration skills. This is how, somehow, we ended up at a life drawing class. Not just any life drawing class either, but one with a Mediaeval Queen as our model. [Read more…]
Another year, another outfit post. Today’s theme is CANADA.
I just got back from a fabulous fortnight in the motherland, and I miss it already. I sometimes wonder if I’d stayed, would I be as obnoxiously Canadian as I am now? A maple syrup chugging, beaver hugging, hockey watching fan of moose and geese? Would my favourite tartan be lumberjack? Would my favourite leaf be the maple? Would I still pine for poutine? Who even am I?! [Read more…]
I don’t do resolutions. As we barrel full pelt into 2017 I’m fighting off a cold, snuggled up to my beloved dog and drinking ginger and lemon tea. I spent the first few days of the year catching up with good friends and stuffing my face. Fuck productivity. Today is my first full day back and I am somewhat unimpressed that I’ve being made to work on my puppy’s birthday. How rude.
I didn’t want to make a list of goals I’d like to accomplish this year, or vices I think I should give up. Things change in my life at such a rapid rate that they’d probably be redundant by March, so instead I thought I’d share a few thoughts on what I reckon we should leave in 2016. [Read more…]