the have and the have nots

I have been adding to my wardrobe recently under the pretense of buying clothing for my three weeks in New York (I fly out in three weeks and two days bytheway).

Of course in an ideal world I would be buying from net-a-porter in bulk but sadly I am living in the real world so therefore have been trapsing around Manchester city centre/scouring the internet buying the various things that I need want. However, because I am a masochist I decided to inflict pain on myself by finding items online that resembeled the items I purchased which instantly resulted in me resenting the items I have and dreaming of the items I don't have.

The grass is always greener.

have

have not

In all honesty I am in love with everything I bought...promise! In particuluar I am pleased as punch that I managed to find copies of those Chloe boots I was desperate for a few weeks ago (and at a tenth of the price). I love them so much I have worn them everday since buying them which hasn't been so great gor my feet but has done wonders for my soul.

Have: Asos playsuit £35, H&M cuff £3.99, Zara jacket £79.99, Office boots £80, H&M leggings £14.99, Aldo boots £40 (in sale).

Have not: Etoile Isabel Marant playsuit £230, YSL cuff £365, Alexander McQueen jacket £9325, Chloe boots £850, Stella McCartney trousers £430, Isabel Marant boots £365.

is it chic thirty already?

The most concise LFW round up I have come across...

london fashion week, bitches

“You will be stood in the cold for 11 hours a day and you will probably be very bored, so are you still interested in working with the British Fashion Council?” - Dumb question.

Yes it’s true that by the end of the week I had developed a pretty severe cold and was deliriously singing “love machine” by Girls Aloud on repeat due to sleep depravation, but working at London Fashion Week was an experience like no other. It was an opportunity for me to make some amazing friends, see some incredible people from the fashion industry in their natural habitat and of course be part of an event that is usually only privy to fashion insiders. In my interview I was promised some pastel Levi’s jeans as part of my uniform, but due to alleged health and safety reasons myself and the rest of the team ended up wearing a rather hideous white lab coat so that we would stand out in a crowd of well dressed people (I was sweet talked into liking it when the devastatingly handsome head of marketing announced “they wear them at Margiela”). I was working as a ‘Wayfinder’ which meant I was essentially an encyclopaedia on all things LFW. I needed to know which designers were showing in the various exhibition rooms, when the next show was starting in the Courtyard show space and even where the nearest toilets were located and I needed to know it all off by heart just incase some self important fashionista got lost in one of the many identical corridors of Somerset House. We worked in shifts so that we didn’t get too bored if we were positioned in a quiet area or die of hyperthermia stood out in the courtyard or on the terrace, which meant we got to see all aspects of what goes into running an event of that size and importance. Working out in the courtyard was the best spot for people watching (and celeb spotting) but it meant I also witnessed some very strange sights. The majority of people were exceptionally well dressed and looked so impeccable that I wanted to crawl into a hole and set my lab coat on fire. There were however people wearing the clothing of nightmares for example a very interesting man in a yellow and flesh coloured PVC gimp suit accented with PVC red lips and inflatable yellow hair and of course matching yellow stilettos. The most desirable position, in my eyes anyway, was on the registration desk. There we were guaranteed to be rushed of our feet,  but it also meant that we held the power to hand out passes to the designer exhibitions to the thousands of buyers, bloggers and members of the press that strutted in and out of the registration hall in their fashion week best. I went a bit power mad to be honest. Along with the passes we were instructed to hand out goodie bags, which were made by Mulberry, to press and buyers but NO ONE else. I think the fact that by simply uttering the words “sorry, no you can’t have one” to the unlucky bloggers, visitors and exhibitors who were not permitted to have goodie bags suddenly turned them into fashion weeks’ most coveted item and at one point we actually caught a woman trying to stuff no less than six bags into her handbag. Safe to say I took a bag or two for myself; let’s call it one of the perks of the job.

on the street: london fashion week

London Fashion Week was a completely new experience for me this season. Having spent the Spring Summer shows working at the Topshop show, spening Autumn Winter with the British Fashion Council opened my eyes to the wider reach of fashion week. Spending one hour shifts dotted around various areas of Somerset house meant that the extent of some fashionistas 'personal style' had the potential to become overwhelming on the eyes. Most of the editors, bloggers and buyers that I was interacting with were so well dressed that I had to surpress the urge to ask them where every item they were wearing was from and I was overcome with delight when, on my day off, I found the exact pair of shoes a lady from Vogue was wearing and was even more overjoyed when I realised they were from Office. The street style ranged from bloggers that were so put together I doubt there was even a hair out of place, to a gentleman dressed in a PVC gimp suit and black stilletos carrying an Hermes Birkin bag. People would literally stand around in the courtyard (the only area where those without a pass to the exhibition or an invite to a show are allowed to go) for hours on end in the freezing cold just to get their photo taken in the hopes that they would appear in a magazine or style blog. Here's hoping these snaps will make someones day...
 

newgen

This has been playing pretty much on repeat on the big screen in Somerset House throughout London Fashion Week. For those of you who haven't seen it the film is a collaboration between Topshop, the NEWGEN designers they have worked with over the last decade and the wonderful photographer Nick Knight. It stars Karlie Kloss strutting her stuff in 10 years of Topshop NEWGEN designs. It is incredible how many of these once up and coming designers Topshop has boosted to fashion stardom.

lfw

Guess where I am working...

Excuse the horrible lab coat, it's part of my uniform.

On the red carpet: rihanna

I'll be honest, Rihanna has been annoying me recently. All those semi nude pictures she had been posting on twitter and her pseudo pornographic lyrics and videos are just starting to become a little bit boring in my opinion- but holy hell did she look amazing at the Grammys last night. She was the personification of sex and I (along with the male population of the world) was loving it. Her super slinky dress was a collaborative effort between her and Armani and she looked slammin'. Yes it was kind of hoochy with the low cut top, high cut slit and no back to it, but I thought it was perfect for her and the event. Cold shower anyone?

on the red carpet: emma watson

Emma Watson looked ravishing in red at a Lancome Pre-Bafta event last night. Emma looked the personfication of Valentines day in a flirty lace dress by Valentino and borderline dominatrix stilletos by Christian Louboutin, finishing off the look with a slick of red lipstick and black nail polish. She looked beautiful, and this is coming from someone who loathes the colour red. I love this look on Emma and it seems to be working as a winning formula for the Hogwarts alum as a lot of her most recent red carpet looks have stuck to this silhoutte. I love it, I really do, it is so chic and sexy whilst being age and event appropriate and although Emma doesn't necessarily take many fashion risks with her outfits, her simplicity and the modern way she (or maybe her stylist) puts looks together is always so pretty and polished. Just looking at her makes me wish I had a red hot date for Valentines day- bleak.

droppin' bombs

I am pleased and proud to announce two pieces of news today.

Firstly, I have been offered a job working with the British Fashion Council during London Fashion Week...AHHHH! Obviously I am so excited and I just had to share this news! Hopefully this means I can blog from the front line and bring some really fun bits of info straight from Somerset House to the blog, but most likely it means I will be sleep deprived for a week and have no time to eat let alone blog so forgive me in advance.

Secondly, I have also been offered an internship in New York City with the fabulous Topshop PR team. Told ya I'd be droppin' bombs peeps. So basically I have known about this internship for a while now but have been keeping it under wraps until all the little details were sorted so that I could SCREAM IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS. I could cry with excitement, New York is my dream and I cannot wait to live it.

How long til graduation?

comebacks

Does anyone have £850 they would care to donate to my cause? My cause being the desperate longing for beautiful shoes. Probably not the best thing to put your money towards really- if anything that £850 should go towards my treatment for retail addiction.

Chloe have brought back THE boots- you know the ones, black booties with gold studs and buckles galore. Of course you know the ones, these were the boots that half the front row were wearing a few seasons back for Christ's sake. Well they are back people and my feet are crying out for them.

The only trouble is, as mentioned before, they are a whopping £850. That's about £800 more than I can afford to spend on shoes due to my current financial state. 

For me these are the perfect boot. They have summer and winter potential which is perfect considering England is in a constant state of transitional weather. They would be perfect with a floral dress in the hotter months but equally as show stopping with black jeans and a killer jumper once the snow hits the ground/the rain starts pouring. Basically, I need them. My only hope is that I meet a kind benefactor/drug my Mum and take her credit card/Office or Topshop provide me with a cheap copycat.

It's times like these I despise my Dad for telling my bank to never give me a credit card of my own.

images courtesy of net-a-porter