A Lovely Little Poem, Possibly my Favourite

Ok so I do admit that I found this poem on another blog, but it is pretty fantastic. And straight to the point. Two qualities rarely found in poetry.

French Women Don’t Get Fat and Even if They Do They Still Look Nice

I took the Eurostar to Paris yesterday for a spot of shopping and perving on fine-boned French men. The usual trek around my favourite store in the world, Galeries Lafayette, was as wonderful as ever – I can confirm that their new(ish) shoe department really is a joy to behold. Apparently is it the largest in the world, and honestly ladies, nowhere else even comes close. The only gripe I have is the layout, which is a tad confusing for those not blessed with a natural GPS/any sort of spatial awareness – much like myself.

While foraging in Lafayette and Printemps I stumbled across a fantastic new label - The Kooples. Aiming to mix Parisian fashion with that cool London edge, it boasts a collection of mainly black separates for girls and boys. Beautiful tailoring, unusual fabrics and a bloody amazing brand image - this label is going places. I fell in love with the most sensationally tailored tux jacket, but then remembered that I am technically a pauper and cannot afford such things. One to watch for definite.

I also made the trip right across town to the Petit Palais to see the new YSL exhibition but the musee turned out to be closed due to it being the 8th of May. Being a good Catholic, I really should know what religious holiday this date corresponds to, but I don’t. I think the Virgin Mary was involved though.

Now, on the Metro I spied several women dressed in questionable fashion, usually with a decidedly shit choice of shoe. But somehow, and don’t ask me how, they pulled the whole look off, reeking of chic. At first, I blamed the dusky complexions, messy hair and skinniness but after a while I realised that even the heftier ladies looked great. Confidence appears to be the only common denominator. Confidence and the addition of a good printed scarf. There’s a lot to be said for covering up – a lesson for us all in the UK. No one wants to see a pale boob hanging out of top or a generous muffin top spilling over a jean edge. Some layering would do us all a world of good. And for God’s sake put away the pink feet and the sandals. It may be May in London but it’s only 10 degrees out there.

Stolen Purses and the Morals of the People of England

Now really.

Getting an iPhone stolen is bad enough, but to get your purse lifted out of your bag in the same fashion just a few weeks later is more than a coincidence. I really don't know what I've done to piss off the universe but seriously, it's bleeding me dry. I was merrily dancing away at Walkabout in Shepherd's Bush yesterday evening (yes, my social life swings between highly glamorous and the spit 'n' sawdust style £1-a-shot bars. I like to term it "partially classy") when it all went down. Opened my Chloe for a split second to pull out my coat ticket from my purse and in a matter of moments said purse was no longer there. God damn it.

To be honest I was more concerned about how I was going to purchase that lovely Chicken Legend I had set my sights on than cancelling my cards, but Mother Dearest stepped in and did all the dirty work for me remotely. And my lovely friends supplied the chicken. The thieves really threw a hard punch by picking possibly the only girl without a bank branch in London and on a bank holiday weekend. It was truly evil. And it certainly wouldn't happen in the homeland. Then again, neither do most things.

Things that make me happy this week...

Sunshine. And lots of it. Oh to wear pastels and not look ridiculous - sunshine is the only way forward. Also, I can confirm that sun goes very nicely with a bottle of Pinot.

Olives. That Mediterranean taste has me hooked. Reminiscent of warm nights and the promise of a fun filled holiday evening ahead. Not so much yum, just a bit foreign tasting, which is lovely now and again.

Uniqlo. Look beyond the (admittedly fantastic) leggings and all I used to see was a few good jeans and ill-fitting lumberjack shirts. I popped in last week and out I came armed with a clever long line printed tee and a dress for work. I could have bought rings around me. And cheap! What more can a girl want.

Starbucks Coffee Light Frappucinos. 90 calories. Can you believe it?! 90 calories for a little taste of heaven? Drinking coffee flavoured ice cream before 9am in the office has never been so acceptable.

Whole Foods. I'm a little bit obsessed with nutrition, so this place is a godsend. Unusual-sounding, European packaged foods had me at hello.

Fage Greek 0% Yogurt. Good Lord, I'm a bit mad on the old food front this week, but seriously, 52 calories per pot, mix with a little honey and a sliced banana or some granola and it's a breakfast fit for a sunny Swiss hillside. I feel fitter just eating the damn thing.

Mango. I love literally everything in here at the moment. The boho chic vibe is stronger than strong, and perfect for everything I'm trying to channel this summer. I have loved Mango for quite some time, but the summer range is just super-fantastic. I'm in love.

Damn Icelandic Ash and other Assorted Delights

Greetings today from a somewhat puffy-eyed and teary lady (all that retained salt water couldn't be good for beating the bloat anyway). Today, due to a horrid turn of events, UK airspace has shut down. Apparently a volcano erupted in Iceland causing clouds of volcanic ash to float into our skies - does this scream "beginning of the apocolypse" in anyone else's head? Now, apart from the word VOLCANO and ICELAND being somewhat odd sentence buddies to begin with, it has also resulted in all planes being grounded. Damn earth core bastards.

My main problem with this little inconvienience is that I was meant to fly to my old alma mater today for a huge black-tie outdoor ball, complete with A-list acts and lashings of alcohol. It's Europe's biggest private party. And I'm not going to be there.

The best I can do is manage to make it back via train and boat for 6am. By which stage the Ball will just have ended. Thus I have no choice but to knock back a glass of Pinot on the ferry and hope for an afterparty. Sorted.

In other news, Jared Leto popped into the office a little while ago. He just waltzed in one day, had a look round and a wee chat with us. Then proposed marriage.

Well, slight embellishment there but he did ask me if I was working hard, which everyone knows is actually code for some sort of pick-up line. He was looking very moviestar-ish - shades in the pouring rain etc. It was a nice little distraction...

Also, Jameela Jamil arrived in last week to pick out some items and I hate to disappoint ladies, but she really is as hot in the flesh as she is on-screen. And tall too...the most bitter-inducing trait of all. She was wearing a bra top under some short denim dungarees, tights and HUGE platforms. I hate her for it. But I love her too.

Also, party updates - the last few weeks have been a tad hectic what with press days and such so my party posts have been sadly lacking. A few weeks ago I went to the Pop-Up Store launch at Whiteleys in Bayswater. The famous shopping centre played host to a number of cool pop-up stores including FrostFrench (Sadie and the kids were all there, bless), Junkfood and Wildfox. Mini cheeseburgers and spinach parcels were served by 50's style waiters and free tequilla cocktails were on tap. After rocking up the red-carpet my companion and I spotted Kelly Osbourne (avec ever-so-subtle pink-grey hair: LOVE IT) looking, it has to be said, sensational, along with her beau. Some boy band were standing next to us, trying to catch our eye, but unfortunately I wasn't cool enough to either know or care who they were.

Towards the end of the evening, Alice Dellal's band Thrush Metal came on. We had no dea who they were (Alice and co. were dressed up as old men, complete with suit and plastic masks so it was difficult to tell whether they were boy or girls). Despite standing right at the front, I didn't feel a band called "Thrush" anything could ever be my sort of thing so we happily returned to the cocktail bar. A night well spent.

I also attended the launch party of the new restaurant and bar Coquine in Kensington. Right next door to Eclipse, it serves French style food upstairs, while downstairs plays music into the night. The decor is eclectic and unusual, with booths resembling picture frames in the bar, and carpet-lined light fixtures in the restaurant. Jerry Hall and Tyrone Wood (son of Ronnie) were spotted mingling with the crowd, while model-turned-DJ Ben Grimes played the tunes. With some fantastic and downright yummy cocktails accompanied by mini creme brulee pots, I was in heaven. After the party wound up, the faithfuls ended up in Boujis - my idea of wonderful. I don't know what it is about posh boys but I like it. And I like it even more when it's in Kensington - my spirtual home.

Anyway, I'm off to board a train and then a ferry (club class obviously, none of that foot passenger dirt for me)in an attempt to make it back to good ol' Trinners before the weekend is out. Wish me luck...

Thieves and Asian Fusion Cusine

So my iPhone was stolen on Saturday night. My iPhone which I paid for outright and decided not to insure. Ah, the wisdom. All my contacts are gone so there goes my career.

On another note, tonight a friend and I decided to try Inamo, the computerised Oriental Fusion restaurant. The ordering screen was on the table itself, and allowed diners to order food and drink at their own pace as well as a host of other options including "ChefCam" - a live camera to see the kitchen action, games and onward journey cab ordering. The entire evening was vastly entertaining and the food wasn't bad either. I went for the black cod - usually not my thing, but it came recommended by a friend, and it didn't disappoint. The restaurant would be a perfect date outing, with plenty to talk about if the conversation is less than sparkling. And with ambiance controls on the table, the light can be as flattering as the night requires. On a slightly less sophisticated note, the Hummingbird cupcake cafe is right across the street so if you fancy a post-dinner treat it's open till 8. I highly recommend the Rocky Road Cup. Just don't eat it all at once.

LFW Super-Amazing iPhone Photos

Seriously, I should take up photography on a professional basis. No really.