I will fucking sit down properly at my computer some point tomorrow morning (NY time...) and post properly because it is appalling that I'm a) posting once a day and b) not even posting anything of substance. My eyeballs are falling out but I will try my best...
Yesterday required serious stomping around Manhattan (I keep swiping that credit card in the taxis but forget how much they mount up...) so out came my new acquisition - deadstock creeper boots from 2 Cheshire Street off Brick Lane. Comfy, heavy and they go STOMP STOMP STOMP. I'm liking the fact I look like an overaccessorised pregnant midget here... Phil who took my pic is quite embarrassed that he keeps on placing me in cliched New York settings but literally this is his Bushwick surroundings. I sort of like the cliched quality.
Some of you may have been reading my mo-blogs on Dazed Digital but here are further ramblings, some of which will get expanded upon in further detail later on...
-Have noticed that when I list out things to streetstyle photographers of what I'm wearing, their eyes start glazing over because I have to list so many things and struggle to remember where I got things from. Oh dear... FYI (Reem necklace, Insideout mohair print top, Tim Ryan skirt, Wolford Tights,vintage hat, coat and Mulberry x Gap bag...)
-I have seen the light and it is coming from Jeremy Laing's use of marble print, coated sheepskin and just general "I die, I die, I die" ness (stolen from Tommy Ton's exaggerated expression of coveting something...
-New York gals seem to have the most pristine coats I've ever seen...they're not beaten up, rained on or battered at all but more like Princess coats that have been gently lifted out of boxes wrapped in tissue paper.
-Have been meaning to do a post about the art of lifting things out of context and at Betsey Johnson's FUN FUN FUN presentation (mini burgers, strawberry twizzlers, beer and a bucket load of kitsch), I spied so many things that I'd love to un-Betsify just a smidge...
-YAY! I have readers in New York! I apologise for sounding so flustered and awkward when people come up to me. I'm a hardcore geek who can't communicate with real human beings.
-And finally how could I not mention some Marc-age? So the MJ show started FOUR minutes early with about 50 seats still empty and sixty girls trooped out in sonic speed. I was blinded by the lights but sold on the colours...
