The katie waissel effect

So like most of the UK, my social schedule has been cleared for Saturday night so that I can watch X-Factor.
Danni is defiantly winning this year on the fashion stakes, Cheryl is lagging sorely behind for me with some quite poor dress choices this season.
But the talk of the town is undeniably Katie Waissel.  The girl the UK loves to hate, I have defiantly perched myself on the hate side of the fence.  Katie herself I have no issue with, and although I don’t find her voice particularly pleasant I must admit I have enjoyed quite a few of her performances.
Her growing effect on the population’s hair styles is what I object to.  All of a sudden badly done blond dye jobs, with the accompanying black roots have become fashionable.
As have hair scarfs and increasingly alarming layers of hairspray. Boots must be raking it in with hairspray sales having gone through the roof.

Cool head scarf...NOT

Cool head scarf..NOT

All manner of strange hairbands have also started appearing on the shelves of Topshop and H&M, with hair side bows and sequins flowers gracing the heads of countless teenagers of a Saturday afternoon.
Madonna-esque lace gloves and leggings have also started to make more of an appearance, as have the excessive use of over the top false eyelashes.
Like most women I am partial to a good pair of false eyelashes, I draw the line however at looking as if a pair of oversized butterflies have taken nest on my eye area.  For this trend I can’t solely blame Katie however, as Cheryl and Cheryl have added a lot of fuel to this fire.

A Butterfly seems to have landed on my eye..

A Butterfly seems to have landed on my eye..

So it is with secret loathing that I will watch tonight’s X-factor..poised waiting for the next fashion disaster to emerge…


Matchy matchy matchy…

This is going to sound like a rant but it has really been annoying me of late!
Yes I got the lecture from my mother too, a lady always matches her shoes and her purse.
In fact despite working in fashion my mother to this day contines to bestow this mantra at me and often scolds me for not abiding by these basic fashion principles.
The thing is this particular rule went away with the dodo and certainly does not apply any more, unless you are making a statement or want that particular look for your outfit,
The problem of late however is not people matching shoes and handbags but all other various accessories and items of clothing.
For instance you should never EVER match your wellies to your scarf especially if they are both Burberry check..you know who you are.
Another strange combination is headbands to shoes, one that I often see but just will never understand?  I do remember doing this as an 8 year old girl but just like my taste in those days for sailor outfits it is something I grew out of.
I have seen all manner of these during the last week, sequin red headband and matching kitten heels, very strange on a lady in her forties.
My particular favorite misdememor has been todays spot on the train home.
Matching blue and crystal earings to gloves..I mean really what do you do once you are inside….
Having been such a bad blogger in the last week I promised myself I will post something every day for the next 10 days…2 days down and I am already ranting..must try harder!


Prima ballerina girl…

I guess that after my previous calf bashing post, both ballet and ballerinas in general must have been on my mind.
It must have been what inspired me to purchase a dress which had the word TUTU in its description.
My growing obsesssion with Betty from Mad men probably didnt help the situation either.
I have been an absent blogger for the last two weeks. Rather than devote my spare time to my blogging hobby, which I have grown to love, last week was spent dedicating serious hours into finding the perfect party dress.
My first big party of the holiday season (ALREADY) was looming and I simply needed a new dress.
As always at this time of year cost per wear had entered the equation.  With multiple parties to attend I needed to plan my outfits so I could have maximum wear from purchases why maintaining the air of new outfit mystique.
What other parties was I going to attend, could the outfit double for multiple wears?
Even with all these time-tested theories being calculated within my brain I was still drawn, uncontrollably drawn to the dress.
Baby Pink with a tutu, it still drew me, although highly inappropriate given my advancing years, it looked great with my sparkle stella shoes.  So authentic, it even made that swish sound as I rolled back the years on the dancefloor.
So maybe I was a little harsh with my previous post, because, oddly, in a real tutu, those over-devloped calf muscles somehow looked rather appropriate.

The ballerina dress

Ballerina dress


Ballet, boots and covetousness…

When you are younger you simply don’t realise the effect some actions will have on the rest of your life.

As a young girl, I was obsessed with ballet, dutifully my parents enrolled me in classes and did everything they could to nurture and provide for my obsession.

Looking back now, I realise that I never had any talent and had as much chance of becoming a ballet dancer as I did an astronaut.  What I did do, with the endless hours of practicing was overdevelop my already genetically disposed calf muscles.

Far too much ballet

Far too much ballet

Huge they are, over-ripped huge.   My tiny, size 3 feet, do not help the issue.  My shorter than average legs only compound the issue.

Knee high boots are infinitely an issue and as each Fall season comes upon us I look longingly upon those who can wear beautiful riding boots with an unmistakable pang of pure killer jealousy.

As with most things in life my overdeveloped calves have a nemesis – the mid calf boot.

A fashion piece that is supposed to be worn loose and relaxed (in a rock chic way) placed on my gigantour calves look like two strained leather tree trunks.  Unlike a wonky nose or undeveloped lady chest, to my knowledge, there is no current cure or plastic surgery option for my problem.  A trip to Harley Street will not help.  I will just have to continue to live in jealously throughout Fall and longingly wait for summer, and the return of the sandal.

my nemesis

my nemesis


A fox..you are joking right

Ok first an apology for going back to the silly hats thing..for the third time, but I came upon the following picture today and had to share.

really a fox

Really a fox?

At first I thought Halloween costume, but then if you look carefully you see the real horror, it is a serious outfit.
She is holding a beautiful suede clutch and is wearing what looks like a very lovely coat.  So the hat is clearly a fashion statement of some kind.
If you are wondering wear you can even happen on such an item, which has its own scarf attachment with very handy pockets then the great amazon is one of the sites that is to blame.

Foxy spirit?

Foxy spirit?

Apparently there is a demand to be dressed as all manner of woodland animals..and shamu the killer whale.
To far..its gone far too far…


The real fashion police…

One of my favorite blogs…The Fashion Police recently wrote a post about a story set in Italy about the fashion police (check out the story here http://www.thefashionpolice.net/2010/10/real-life-fashion-police-italian-town-bans-very-short-skirts-and-too-mcuh-cleavage.html).
The newspaper story, which I had read in Tuesdays metro (below), retells how a Mayor of a small town in Italy is passing laws to ban his towns residents from wearing articles of clothing he deems unsuitable.

TheRealFashionPolice

the real fashion police

Quite amusingly this article seems to have had the probably undesired affect of making
me day-dream about which Fashion items I would ban if I was appointed the real fashion police.
Overwhelmingly there is just too much choice.  From my all time favorite shoe hate – the croc to the evil that is lycra cycling shorts, some fashion items should simply have never come into existence.
For prosperitys sake I have decided to list my top five for official future banning below.
If I ever do then become major of a small town in Italy I shall have a head start on the first action of my manifesto!

Wearing Uggs in the summer with a dress
Crocs on anyone over the age of 5
Lycro cycling shorts
Parachute pants
The Peasant skirt

Parachute Pants

I hate them...Parachute pants

Peasant

Real peasant?


Fashion is my football…

“Can you not just wear a belt?”

That was the question asked of me by my significant other this morning.  I was, as always awkardly adjusting my skinny jeans while complaining how I will no doubt spend the entire day adjusting them.  His question was obviously met by my best dead stare which to me said everything but to him meant nothing.

“You don’t wear a belt with skinny jeans!”, I wanted to say.

He was, as always, confused by my silence and was now worried that he had said the wrong thing.

“But why wear them if they’re uncomfortable?”  he added.

I had several answers all of them relating back to F.A.S.H.I.O.N but ready as I was to jump full force into a 20 minute lecture it was then it dawned on me.

What was the point?  He would not understand!  He had as much chance of understanding as I did of ever grasping the offside rule in Football.

It dawned on me then that Fashion had become my football. I was a loyal supporter, I understood the rules and was willing to argue and rant them to whoever would listen over a glass of wine.

I could talk about Fashion and my latest obsession (whether a shearling jacket or YSL scarf) for hours in much the same way as Wayne Rooneys current form and pay rise no doubt echoed around many a public house over the weekend.  I was a devoted follower preferring some teams (labels) over others and ensured that I knew endless hours of facts and figures in the same way the results table could be recited on the spot.

Yes I was obsessed and how could I expect him to understand?

Hadn’t I berated him over the years about his obsession, while secretly habouring my own equal passion?

My answer? I smiled sweetly, hitched up my jeans (again) and replied.

“Perhaps I will buy a belt…”

After all he does understand, Fashion is just a whole other sport and I was looking forward to my next fixture.


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