Let's Twist Again

The humble knot has been given some major fashion kudos this season. Twists and flourishes are appearing on everything, especially shoes, and I'm going H-A-M for them. It all kicked off (see what I did there) with Ports 1961 incred slip-ons. Four hundred quid though? Ain't nobody got time for that. (Apart from that bloke who just won the lottery). ASOS then jumped in with these cuties (naturally I've been through the whole of ASOS with a fine tooth comb and I can't find them). Just leaping back into high-end momentarily, Joshua Sanders has hit us with these babes. (Better buy a scratch card ASAP). Coming back down the scale slightly, there is this insane dupe for the Ports babies. (I actually want errrrything from LOÉIL, shipping and duty I hate you). Pleasingly, French Connection have also come forth with some hotties too, as have Kurt Geiger. And then there's my lil' kicks which will have to do until my credit limit gets raised. You feeling the hype? Let me know x PS Apologies for the appalling mahogany state of my feet. I shot this on fake tan day. Lesson learned.

Shoes- H&M//Knitted Pants- Zara

Pink Obsession

I'm not quite sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line I became obsessed with pink. Maybe it was Acne's signature carrier bag what did it. Maybe it was Aesop's incredible Resurrection Hand Balm that made me fall. Or maybe it was just something in the fashion air. (Having done a scoot round Other Stories and Cos at the weekend I can confirm that there was certainly more than a hint of pink on show in both). So what have I actually purchased so far to feed my rapidly growing rosé addiction? First up was this fluffy sweatshirt from Topshop. It's literally like being hugged by a teddy bear, which is no bad thing. Then in came this beaut of watch from Klarf. How pretty is it? (And yes, the eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed that I've actually attached the strap the wrong way round. I've remedied that now, shame I'm too dopey to have not realised until after I took these frames). I've also leapt on some socks from both ASOS and Cos (not pictured, but check IG for some future appearances). I'm also deffo lusting after a pink bomber jacket. The ASOS one still hasn't dropped, and the Stradivarius one sold out super-quick. (Sidenote: I'm silly excited for the Stradivarius shop to open on Oxford Street). Are you loving pink this season? Tell all babes x

Watch- *Klarf//Jumper- Topshop

Jeans- H&M//Book- Love, Style, Life by Garance Doré

The Single Life

As we rapidly approach February the 14th AKA The Worst Day In The World for singletons, I've been starting to do something very unlike me and that's be.....positive. Yes, Pollyanna here is actually really quite glad that she doesn't have a boyfriend. No, honestly. Truly. (I know I know- I never believe anyone when they say that either). But I've decided that there are some very good things about not having An Other Half. (Who even thought of that 'Other Half' phrase? Please have them sent out and beasted). So let's examine those very things right here and now.

The Bed's Too Big Without You

Actually, no, no it's not. I get to sleep on whichever side of the bed I so choose. I can even go diagonal and hog as many covers as I want.

Let's Play Charades

Vally Day is one big faux luv-in, is it not? A charade if you will. And a very expensive one at that.

Amazon Prime & Relax

Imagine wanting to watch your fave programme and then having to have sex instead. File that right under 'Piss off'.

Love Handles

Boyfriends make you fat. This is #barefax. They eat so much and expect you to keep up with them. 'Are you the push-a-salad-round-the-plate type?' first-daters inquire. Yes, I fucking am.

Text Stress

You never know where boyfriends are. In the manner of Lord Disick. Out getting drunk probably. Conveniently forgetting they've got a girlfriend. Ignoring your polite texts. Balls to that.

Forget Me Not

They tend to- also conveniently- not remember your birthday. And if they do somehow make a vague gesture towards celebrating this milestone event it'll be with something purchased from the BP station on the way home. Or with a really repulsive perfume that smells of cats. 

So there we have it. A few reminders that singing 'All By Myself' at the top of your lungs on Sunday might be just the ticket. (Soz to all the loved-up chicas out there with nice boys in their lives.....have they got any brothers at all, at all?)

Print- White Obsession//Make-Up- Chanel

Things That Instagram Need To Change

Delayed Deletion

So, there you are, all set to post. You've got your killer shot, you've filtered the hell out of it, you've chosen fifteen excellent and highly pertinent tags and finally, then you can hit share. But. Oh. Bollocking. Hell. You hate the picture. It looks wrong. Too dark. Not cool enough. And you want it gone. Like, now. Does Instagram allow you to end your misery promptly and efficiently? Does it balls. No. You've deleted, but Someone Up There In Silcone Valley wants to prolong your agony. They like you to suffer the embarrassment of thousands of people seeing an in-limbo-not-likeable image just sitting there, mockingly, for what seems like hours. How difficult would it be for them to make deletion instant? Not very, I'd wager.

Porn

It is everywhere on IG. Absolutely fucking everywhere. Under every tag, even the most seemingly innocuous. And I do not want to see it. At all. Ever. Please someone take it away FFS. I can't imagine what it's doing to children's little brains. (Hashtag: Won'tSomebodyThinkOfTheChildren). And does it ever piss me off when I go on, say, the Adidas Originals tag and I see my sneakers next to a pair of Russian boobs. I imagine there's some sort of hit squad at IG HQ deleting porn as fast as it appears, but, basically, they're just not doing it quick enough. #notsquadgoals

Blurred Lines

I've mentioned this before, and to a few gal-pals on IG as well, but it seriously grinds my gears. Essentially, you can have a perfectly sharp image that you've posted, only to then have it become catastrophically blurred. Sometimes after two minutes, sometimes after two hours, but eventually all images on Instagram seem to become hazy and rubbish. And I've got 16 million pixies in my camera! Why does this need to happen? I reckon it doesn't.

Hacked Off

Hacking seems to be happening increasingly on IG, particularly to 'big' accounts. Your usually once serene, minimalist fashion blogger all of a sudden starts randomly holding iPhone giveaway competitions, and often loads of followers seem to fall for it. Or they have a brand new whizz-bang emoji keyboard they want you to download. It must be awful for the girls trying to wrestle their accounts back from the hackers clutches. If that happened to me I wouldn't have a clue where to start. Again, please pretty please get on it IG.

What irritates you about Instagram company policy? Lemmie know x 

PS Check out my MNZ Robertas!! Not really (obvs), they're just the Mango dupes, but aren't they sick? I must stop buying granny shoes (but I can't). PPS Thank-you to Look magazine who put my granny-shoed feet on Page 24 of last week's issue. Seeing them there was a very weird experience fo' shure.

Jeans- Topshop//Jumper- Zara//Shoes- Mango

Oh You Pretty Thing

I once asked my Dad whether he was a Mod or a Rocker in the 60s. He just laughed and replied "Both". They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and accordingly, I'm just as much of a style schitz as he ever was. I may like to think I'm a minimalist, a tomboy, a lover of all things pared-down and sparse. But am I really that Scandi? I have to confess to loving pretty things just as much. Soaring Gianvito Rossi heels, Dolce & Gabbana decorative maximalism and Prada colour-clashing all press my fashion-buttons. So, when bralettes started springing up all over Instagram I felt myself falling. I was searching hither and thither for one that was less than twenty quid (or thereabouts), when I stumbled upon Isabel Works. The style I went for is the highly seductive ''Fringed Bralette", which is so delicate it actually has a tie-back. And when I saw the packaging I was smitten too- it has utilitarianism and more than a hint of lavishness- all rolled into one. So, thank-you Isabel for fulfilling my style schizophrenia in one fell swoop, and thank-you Dad for making me a very confused version of you : ) Are you jumping on the bralette hype? Do you yo-yo sartorially on the regz like me? Tell all chicas x

Bralette- Isabel Works//Jumper- H&M