



1. Tea and Sympathy Please hot-water bottle, Velevt Brighton
2. Velvet longline brassier, Topshop
3. Pearl Necklace, Accessorize
4. D&G L'Imperatrice perfume, Debenhams
“Fashion is not something that exists in dresses only. Fashion is in the sky, in the street, fashion has to do with ideas, the way we live, what is happening.” - Coco Chanel
‘I love this record baby but I can’t see straight anymore’ I scream towards no-one imparticular. Drinking straws fly in all directions as I violently thrust in my make shift Gaga-esq dress constructed from drinking paraphernalia. As tonight is Halloween, I thought it only appropriate I pay homage to the woman who provides the soundtrack to my life.
Her lyrics cut close to home. We all want to be Beautiful, Dirty, Rich ‘Our hair is perfect while were all getting shit wrecked’. Tonight my hair isn’t so perfect. The platinum wig makes me look like I have an afghan puppy attached to my scalp, and it starts to slide off as I jiggle to the beat. However all woe’s are forgotten as Poker Face is pumped through the speakers. With a microphone in one hand and a lavender teacup in the other I begin swinging both objects haphazardly above my head.
Then something dawns on me. I turn to my friends Michael Jackson and Princes Leah. ‘I hate to end a night like this but, where are my keys I’ve lost my phone?’
This is a short descriptive piece which was derived from a visit to Harvey Nicks...Let me know what you think!
‘It’s ok that you haven’t….you know’, I blushed at the thought. ‘It just means you’re a late starter’, my friends tried to reassure me, but I knew they were secretly pleased they had ‘done it’.
I didn’t plan to ‘loose it’ the way I did. I’d been expecting so much more, a thrilling, exciting experience - I might even talk to them afterwards. But as with most first times, it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
I was ashamed to admit it then, but I was a celeb-spotter virgin.
My first time was with Gok Wan. It didn’t last more than a few minutes on the mens floor of Harvey Nicks. He was trying on a coat, and I, overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of the fashion-fixer, began yelping in fits of giggles before scurrying into the nearest lift.
I realised then that I placed way too much importance on my first time – what an anti-climax.
Have you ever wanted to know a bit more about the clothes you put on your back? Here is a a fashion moment i wrote on the stiletto.
Swathed in white satin and velvet, Catherine De Medici floated down the aisle towards her husband - the future king of France - in 1533. Bejeweled in a rose bodice the French court was captivated by the Italian bride who wanted to make an impression on her counterparts, and therefore wore the first ever-documented stiletto.
Derived from the Latin word ‘Stilis’ which translates as ‘slender dagger’, the stiletto is a spiked heel - which when worn, elongates the legs, elevates the bust and protrudes the derriere. The stiletto is the ultimate optical illusion in achieving a smaller foot. It has similar ideology to the old Chinese practice know as the ‘golden lotus’. This is where the foot is bound causing severe deformities but is perceived to be beautiful, as it is only 4 to 6 inches long. Projecting societies belief that small is desirable.
Erotica and fetishism are part of the stiletto’s appeal. With masochism and sadism as the stilettos parents; the shoe becomes a material manifestation of psychological power, emulating feminism, confidence and authority.
After fading into obscurity between the ages, the modern stiletto made a re-appearance in the 1950s. The post-war years saw a collaboration between innovative designer Christian Dior and Roger Vivier who together re-defined the future of the heel. Decorated in elaborate pearls and beads, or constructed in fine silk, Vivier created the stiletto revolution.
The 60’s saw Hugh Hefner make the shoe a staple in his bunnies wardrobe, and used a standardized 4inch heel as regular attire in his infamous Playboy magazine. The stiletto was henceforth adopted by working girls and featured in the punk-rock rebellion of the seventies.
More recently the rise of specialist shoe designers like Christian Louboutin, Manalo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo have contributed to the rising popularity of the ‘statement shoe’. With the demise of arm candy ‘it’ bags, exotically designed heel-art is now de rigueur, and spiked-heeled creations are seen periodically on the catwalks. Miuccia Prada commented ‘The obsession with handbags has finished a little now. It feels over. It’s about shoes.’
carvela £130, www.kurtgeiger.com
Kick about in Shoreditch
‘Another one of those mokito things pleeeease’ I slur at the barman. He get’s me a mojito without correcting. Kick, a bar located in Shoreditch, has none of the pretentiousness the E1 area code provokes. An hour in this place can easily turn into two or three – especially if you turn up during happy hour.
From the outset, Kick is a reggae playing, football loving, continental haven. Bottles of beer clink together as chaps and chapesses crowd around foosball tables, laughing and jostling over the score. On match nights it’s worse. Cocktail conversation is marked by football trivialities as friends converse with randoms.
Within the hour, your attention will be drawn to the nibble’s menu. Kick’s selection of organic munchies and yummy platters add to the Mediterranean themed experience. As does the unique décor; international flag pennants drape across the ceiling and Cuban cigar plaques hang along the walls. Like a club in Monaco Kick is on European time, ruled by tequila shots and chat.
Ok so there is no jaw-dropping extravagance, or weird 3-D wall hangings. It’s not particularly ‘trendy’ for Shoreditch and it’s not full of art-gallery-owners. However an hour can easily pass in the company of good food and friends. This week make Kick your ‘essential hour’ after work.