After the assessment that our friendship group didn’t do enough things collectively, brunch was made ‘our thing’. Whether I’m feeling delicate/ill/or plain obstinate attendance is mandatory and all e...
Last night as I was in bed, a sponge layer in a trifle of quilts and pillows, I took a moment to appreciate the complete silence of the country. Trite I know, but when you live on top of a never-endi...
I was always under the impression that spinning was for obsessive compulsive gym nuts or sadisitic psychos that enjoyed being verbally berated whilst sweating. The image of an overbearing meathead sc...
Made In Chelsea has started again and predictably I’m willingly giving up an hour each Monday to plummy drivel, Caggie’s infuriating Cabbage Patch pout and Mark Francis’s guffawing....
I can’t count or rationalise how many hours/days/weeks have been spent thinking about Alexander Wang’s Diego bucket bag. I could have penned at least a short story I’m sure. Price and waiting lists a...
Now I’m already zinging on the back this weather but wouldn’t wearing one of these make every day just gosh-darn-it fantastic? In terms of the statement necklace, Shourouk is The One. Cal...
At the weekend I went back to the Jazz Age. But it took some finding. Trawling the length of City Road for about 10 minutes, my iPhone and sense of direction missed the opening for this particular po...
As far as fashion trends go I usually stick to what I know. Sure a whimsical slipper here, a flash of neon there but when it comes to that kooky British eccentricity I play it pretty safe. Or so I th...
When the goop newsletter appeared in my inbox last night I felt like spring had officially sprung. I don’t really need to explain how Gwynnie’s ongoing collaboration with Net-a-Porter spe...
Giddy off a weekend of park life, sunshine and mojitos here’s a splash of everything that’s floating my proverbial boat at the moment. From the top: latest issue of Love Magazine / Zara’s paste...
I’d be lying if I said my ongoing preoccupation with being a Francophile has nothing to do with fashion. Chanel, Dior and Chloé are style nirvana that I’ll probably never reach so for now...
Mint Juleps for WELL WORN‘s birthday / The After Party & Pinot Noir / Scallops & Pork Belly with Pear Puree at The Fellow / Manuel in Marco Polo / Putney Bridge / Basil, Pea, Broad Bean...
One of my New Year’s resolutions was to prioritise how I spend my money. Less buying clothes I’ll wear a handful of times (coinciding nicely with my Topshop prohibition) and more investing in travel ...
I’ve resigned myself to the fact that New Year’s Eve and I aren’t the best of friends. So this year, to lessen the pressure of venue/dress/resolutions of this angst-fuelled day I’m ...
As I type this, totally hungover and bemusedly watching my Dad jive around the kitchen (at least one of us is feeling festive) I’m contemplating the meaning of Christmas. For me this boils down to so...
Apologies for the absence – Christmas, merriment, yada yada… I’ve been meaning to write about this for a while. As vices go this does not make me the coolest cat in town – I’v...
Aside from sweet nourishment and wood burners, one of my favourite reasons to go home is Lyme Regis. Although my parents dragged me there at the crack of dawn it was worth it for the early morning su...
A return to Dorset called for a bonfire in the garden, steak and courgettes on the barbecue and Prosecco. Winner.
Having put to bed the Christmas Gift Guide at work, a week of intensive photoshop (my hand now naturally forms a claw cocooning an invisible mouse) – what was the first thing I did when I got h...
Like most Saturdays it started with coffee. At Monmouth, in Bermondsy, where we’d been to investigate Borough Market usurper Maltby Street Market. Unlike the tourist hub of it’s nearby co...
It’s getting cold. This we know. And as ever I have reached late October with no knitwear to call my own. When knitwear should be those lasting, indulgent wardrobe essentials, my offerings have alway...
No one wants to accidentally flash someone (well some people do but that’s another subject). Taking a tumble stepping off the bus and displaying underwear that’s for your eyes only, to twenty o...
The fair Alexa…coltish limbs, seemingly fancy-free, constantly nailing her own brand of kooky-sixties-geek chic, not to mention that feline flick of eye liner (do you do leftie perfectly, then ...
There’s one breed of canine causing a stir at the moment: the pug. Their appearance in this autumn’s Louis Vuitton advert was confirmation that this dog had finally had it’s day. Sm...
I’m having a bit of a love affair with this necklace…it’s currently distracting me from work. My hankering for a horseshoe necklace began a while back, and I’ve dabbled with a couple R...
My eyesight is not what it used to be, although I’m not near verging on milk bottle lenses, my daily need is almost warranting contact lenses. This upsets me as I’ve always enjoyed being ...
It tickles me that such a fuddy-duddy item such as the slipper has been given the green light to be worn outside and updated with studs, spikes and pony skin. Topshop’s Vectra slippers are my p...
To know me, is to know my inability to stand on two feet. Squiffy or sober, my feet don’t like to walk one foot in front of t’other and behave as only good limbs should. After a particula...
So it’s sale time…the danger zone. With this in mind, a friend and I were discussing our retail rationalisations. We both agreed on the ‘If its still in my size when I get home then...
The thought of not having a holiday until November (!) made me pine for my trip to Italy earlier this year. The land where gelato is as ubiquitous as leather shoes, coffee is taken like a Friday nigh...
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