The Very Last Ten Things

So, I've been tagged by The Hostess Handbook and given a Kreativ Blogger award.  Ta very much for thinking of me!  Here's my ten facts.

1)  Although it's very nice to be thought of and tagged, and I really enjoy reading other people's posts, I hate these things.  Once you get them, you feel obliged to tag another ten people.  It's the blog equivalent of a chain mail and I find that I'm getting so many of them I'm eventually going to run out of facts about myself.  Although, I've been in an inspiration rut recently, I don't think that these make for the best posts. So, this is the last.  This must be the last.  Absolutely the last.  Final.  Full stop. Never again.  Cross my heart and hope to die be spanked until my bottom goes purple.

2)  At present there are three large men ripping up the tiles in my flat and installing a new boiler.  All I can say about that is - thank God for watertight tenancy agreements, if not boilers.

Source

3)  New celeb crush - by that I mean 'guy on TV who is cute', not an actual crush (that would be weird):  Dave Franco.  Funny, great smile, seems smart and looks a little bit like an ex-boyfriend, but not so much that I'm totally repulsed.  Yes, he's James Franco's younger brother.

Melodramatic enough for ya? (source)

4)  Last book read - The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber.  I was really excited to get this as an early birthday present (thank you Alan!) and it was excellent - up until the last hundred pages or so.  The TV adaptation currently running on the BBC also looks amazing and has a great cast.  Although I don't know how I feel about the prospect of a full frontal Chris O'Dowd.  Oh, I know he went to LAMDA and everything but he'll always be Roy from the IT Crowd to me.



5)  Can't.  Stop.  Listening.  To.  This.  Song.  Against my better judgement.  Ev'ry day I'm shufflin'.

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6)  My birthday is next week and a fluo Cambridge satchel is at the very top of the wishlist.  Add some Danielle Scutt for Topshop jewellery and I'm channeling my inner Man Repeller.  P.S.  I'd love one in leopard print.  Cambridge Satchel Company, if you're reading this...



7)  New film obsession - Paris is Burning, as seen at Style at Set last weekend.  I'd be foolish NOT to try vogueing on my next night out.

8) That Can Be My Next Tweet invents new tweets made from your old tweets.  Recycling is good for the environment.  But not for my imagination.  Ugh.  What a mental image.

9)  Speaking of which, I'm on facebook AND twitter AND Pinterest - so come say hello.  Validate me with your friendship!

10)  The last and most important point.  As I've said, there's been an inspiration drought sweeping the area lately, so I've set myself a challenge and I need YOUR help.  I've decided to write about any fashion/style-oriented topic that is put to me.  Every single one.  No matter how out there, or seemingly normal, I want to write about it.  Even if you don't think it's my cup of tea, I want to know.  You can give me a word, or a link, or a picture to bounce ideas off.  Leave any and all suggestions in the comments.  And thank you.

Is that a bandwagon I spy...

...because I feel like jumping on it.

I'm mightily interested in those 'what in your bag' posts that are popping up all over the place.  Part of the allure of blogs is the insight you get into other people's lives.  Now we get an insight into their accessories.



This is my bag.  It's a (genuine) vintage Dooney and Bourke bag in tan and black, accessoried with a leopard print Primark scarf.  I love it so.

I'm not a bag person.  I need to be strapped to my bag at all times, otherwise I'll wander off like Ralph from The Simpsons, off to the toilet or dancefloor without it, and never see it again.  Clutches are not my friend.  Backpacks make me look like an ant huffing a gigantic pile of rocks up a hill.  The mid size bag is a, uhm, happy medium.



For a medium bag, it holds a lot of stuff.  This week it's playing house for:

1. Travel itinaries and booking confirmations - going to Dublin for a few days to catch up with family, go to a few meetings, do a bit of work and hopefully buy a nice pair of pink trousers.
2. Wallet - a present from my aunt - it basically has my life in it.  A life with no money (so be warned, potential muggers).
3. Two of twelve billion Cork and Dublin bus tickets.
4. An iPod that has taken for too many knocks.
5. Coin purse - Marc by Marc Jacobs and was a Christmas present.  It holds coins.  And sometime lozenges (I'm such an old lady).
6. Passport - In case Enzo whisks me off to Milan at the last minute.  It is also helpful for getting into pubs.
7. Generic ibuprofen - because I'm too cheap to buy Nurofen.
8. Reporters notebook
9. Whatever book I'm reading at the moment - this one is a biography of Lee Miller.
10. A pencil - because someone took my pen!  My precious Bic!  I'll get you one day, pen thief...
11. A Nokia phone which is similar to a Blackberry, but nowhere near as fiddly.
12. Hand sanitiser - because you'd never know who has cooties.
13. A lolly.  Just 'cos.
14. Two bobby pins to whip back an unruly fringe.
15. Make up.  No. 7 Mascara, Bobbi Brown concealer, Mac eyeshadow in Bronze and Mac matte lipstick in Russian Red.
16. A pair of Ray Ban Clubmasters.  If I lost these, I would go hardcore baloobas.  My sunglasses are basically my ticket into the outside world.  If you've seen photos of me taken during the day, I'll have these on.  It's not because I'm an indie wanker (that's only about 75% of the reason).  I'm mildly photosensitive.  Direct sunlight hurts my eyes, makes them water and if I don't put my sunglasses on, I'll get a migraine after about twenty minutes or so.  Since Ireland is mostly overcast, this hasn't been too much of a problem.  It's just unfortunate that optimum weather conditions for taking photos are also those which make me want to run for the hills (or a darkened room).

What's in your bag?

Licentiate column 09/09/10

I was determined to get that bag. It was black and tan satchel (such a now combo, horrible historical implications notwithstanding) with a briefcase handle and boxy detailing. It lived in the front window of the charity shop I would often pass from my home on the walk to and from town. It taunted me from the window from it’s vintage covetability.

“Buy me”, it said. “I’m such a tart. I’ll go with all your outfits”. Totally ignoring the fact that a talking handbag was an unusual occurrence, I took its word for granted and went to the charity shop early, in order to be the first to get my mitts on it. Only to find a queue of like-minded women who had also been on speaking terms with my bag. Apparently it was a tart, after all.

There’s a common misconception that fashion obsession is some kind of fabulous disorder for people with impossibly glamourous lifestyles. In fact, fashion fans are as fanatical, cultish and partial to nerdish scrutiny and discussion as hardcore Star Wars fans or members of the Bieber Army and, with the popularisation of fashion blogs, spend more time in front of a computer screen than the average World of Warcraft gamer.

Take, for example, the recent announcement that revered fashion house Lanvin would be doing a collaboration with high street giant, H&M.

The lead up to this announcement included several teaser videos of a man and a woman, their faces hidden in shade like anonymous guests on The Jeremy Kyle Show, talking about the implications of style, a tactic which whipped fashion fans all over the world into a frenzy of hype. When it was finally revealed than the man and the women were not collaborators but red herrings, thrown into the mix to add to the mystique, H&M’s tactics were applauded (and rightly so) as genius.

Designer and high street stores alike have tapped into the love of fashion and social networking. if you generate enough hype with inventive advertising, exclusive collaborations and exciting design, then bloggers will do much of the online legwork by advertising through positive posting and public declarations on Facebook, Twitter, Stumbleupon, Networked Blogs or any other of the ocean of sharing sites that currently exists in the ether.

In a way the internet has not only democratised fashion and opened up a whole new world of information for those who see fashion as a serious interest and not just a way to get into debt. It has forced retailers to up their game. The high street must produce better designs for cheaper prices, or the consumer will go elsewhere. The cachet to clothing is its exclusivity, which is why vintage sellers are making out like bandits with overpriced goods, just because they might not be available anywhere else.

Likewise, high-street/designer collaborations inspire all night camp-outs and riot re-enactments that imagine what Altamont would have been like if populated entirely by post-pubescent girls and young women clubbing away with their clutch purses.

I bought the bag, by the way. The women in front of me baulked at the price tag and left. That's the problem with fashion obsession; you might get the bag that no-one else has, but there's a distinct possibility that you might end up living out of it.