Thursday, March 31, 2011

It was a Point-Toed, Flat-Heeled, Pleather Purple People Eater

My taste in shoes, as widely reported, leans heavily in favour of something with a significant heel and extraordinary powers of leg elongation. So it comes as no surprise that when confronted by this:

It can only be described as a punch in the throat to my sense of fashion, style, goodness and positive things in general. And while the point can be made that I couldn't think of any other verbs which could describe the shoes and left "people eater" at the end, I have no doubt that it could have eaten a person.

They looked hungry.

And mean.

The shoes in question had a slightly higher heel, a slightly longer point and they didn't have the white stitching but that's pretty much it down to the cheap faux leathery sheen. Worn with cropped pants leaving stockinged ankles on display it was a veritable disaster. 

Yes, I am aware that both Chloe and Christian Louboutin have produced a similar and obviously much higher quality and slightly more credible shoe but this does not mean that we should all go out and start investing in royal purple, pointy, patent, pleather flats nor does it excuse the fact that the offending shoes were awful looking, ill fitting and generally speaking, bad. Also anything, shoes included, which causes as much alliteration as that should be destroyed.

I'm just saying.

I have no explanation for the production of either of these shoes by designers who I hold in high esteem and can only assume that like the 'flatform' disaster that has flooded the runways of New York Fashion Week, the shoe powers that be are poking fun at us, they have given us something to confuse us while they sit back and chuckle at our confusion.

How do I know that this taunting of us by the shoe powers occurs I hear you ask? 

This is how:
Christian Louboutin Pigalle Flat
Christian Louboutin Pigalle 120 Patent Pump
That's right, Mr Louboutin was having a funny, he lopped off the 5 inch stiletto heels of these babies, sat back and watched us squirm. Sorry buddy but i've got your number!

I can't believe I just called Christian Louboutin buddy...i think I should take a time-out in the naughty corner to think about what i've done. A little light self-flagellation wouldn't go astray for that little piece of blasphemy.

Anyway, to restore your faith in footwear and for the sake of lollipops, hugs, rainbows, puppies and positive things in general...

THIS is how you do a purple shoe.
Nicholas Kirkwood X - Front Platforms
Charlotte Olympia Paloma
Dior Cutout Wedge Sandal
Balenciaga Suede and Stingray Platform Sandals
Charlotte Olympia Elvira
Brian Atwood Maniac Platform Pump
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Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Rhinococcalooza (Edward Norton Themed)

Having picked up some hybrid Rhinovirus, Streptococcus, Influenza - which shall be hendceforth known as Rhinococcalooza and incidentally sounds like much more fun that it actually is...

Edward Norton in 'Death to Smoochy'

It was named thus to trick it.

If it thinks that it is more fun than it is, maybe it will stop attacking my bodys already pathetic immune system and leave me alone.

It hasn't worked yet but i'll keep you posted.

I've blown my nose so many times already today that the makeup on and around my nose is gone. My skin underneath my makeup is a paler, slightly greener shade than my usual tan. I look like a sick, pale, blotchy and kind of leper-ish version of the Hulk...and possibly less muscular.

It's hot.

Given, I could have opted not to wear makeup at all but that would have been an even worse option. The pale Hulk-y green shade of my skin would have been on display for all to see.

I would like nothing more than to be at home, dying on the couch...or in Boyfriend Cakes inexplicably comfy armchair.

Like this.

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Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Online Sales of Doom

As we know, my time at my curent job is winding down, we have reached the final stretch...the last week. I will leave the comfort of my office and my boss/bestie and venture out into my new role.

The hardest thing about changing jobs, especially when jumping from a weekly to monthly pay arrangement is making your holiday payout stretch through until the first pay. Making sure that you have enough funds to cover rent, car payments, bills and food shopping. Never mind that you need to buy new appropriate corporate wear and shoes for your new role because, lets face it...having been in a fashion office for the past 2.5 years, I have slowly but systematically sold off all of my corporate clothing on eBay to fund the purchase of cute tops, leather jackets and shoes for the old job...which incetentally aren't really appropriate for the new job.


So while I lose sleep over whether I am going to be able to eat for the next month and whether I cna make my exceedingly limited (1) pair of suitable pants work for me until my first pay (its not looking good) I am bombarded with a barrage of SALE emails. What could be crueller?

The world "sale" used to fill me with joy at the anticipation of discounted fabulousness and that ever elusive urban shoe myth much like the Manolo Blahnik Mary Jane of SATC, which is found deep in the heart of the Vogue accessories closet and I actually don't fancy...and will probably be struck down by the shoe gods for admitting. But for us mere mortals who will never be behind the scenes at Vogue we dream, more simply of the two-for-one sales at a tiny boutique full of Parisian hand crafted, 5-inch perfection.

So fuck you ASOS, Victoria's Secret, Witchery, limited offer discounted magazine re-subscriptions, and all the private shopping sites which I am a member of (my fault I know. I'm kind of masochistic like that). How thoughtless of you to dangle the stylish yet affordable, to all those not on a hyper budget, carrot in front of my face. To show me in crystal clear, 17-inch screen glory all the things which I cannot afford. Sure, go ahead and repeatedly flash those reasonably priced studded platform d'Orsay pumps at me. Thanks.

No really!

I appreciate it.

Excuse me for a moment while I throw myself out a window.

I don't want to know about your free shipping or your further 20% off. I don't want to know that I can now shop in Australian Dollars or that you are giving away a free puppy with purcahse (I lie...noone is offering a free puppy and if they were you'd better believe that i'd buy whatever they are selling!)

Show me those ultra flattering black pants which would hug in the right places and give me Cameron Diaz's legs in an appropriately conservative and product enthusiasm enducing manner.

My apologies that my ranty post about budgets and sale emails wound up at Cameron's i'm not and neither are you.

I can't explain how relieved I am that none of the emails or shopping websites that have ben tortuing me have used Cameron Diaz as their 'face-of' model because whatever she is wearing, selling, doing...I want it.


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Sunday, March 27, 2011

A Little Bit of Louboutin

Source: Dossier Journal
The Style Issue of the New Yorker ran a profile, not long ago on a man. My man. THE MAN. Christian Louboutin.  Thus rendering the long post I had already drafted, outlining the thousand-and-one points of his work which justify my existence, moot.

To quote Lauren Collins; "With several swoops of his pen, Louboutin has managed to make Manolo Blahnik’s princessy slingbacks look as if they were meant for ladies who spend their days eating charity lunches of chicken salad and melon balls." 

If you have not already, follow the link on the first line to the original profile, it is beautifully written, clever and just perfect. I stumbled across the article when sitting down to write a homage to one of the Kings of Sole and was left feeling that witty and sharp phrases that I had been enthralled with only moments before were now stale, weak and lacking in the necessary je na sais quoi that a Louboutin post simply must have.

I had been bested. 

So rather than try and compete, because I was not able to interview him...clearly that is the only reason that Lauren Collins' article trumps my own, not that she is an accomplished writer who has been a staff writer at the New Yorker for 8 years or came to there from Vogue. 

Christian Louboutin by Felix Broede
So while I dwell on the incredible mediocrity of my own writing and lament the fact that I will probably (note the glimmer of hope) never get closer to the man than to be wearing his work, I give you Christian Louboutin's top 10 quotes, in his own words.

1. "I am not producing pills to cure people, so I feel that the whole system should be slightly joyful."

2. "I'll do shoes for the lady who lunches, but it would be, like, a really nasty lunch, talking about men."

3. "My favorite sound is definitely mules. If it was an instrument, it's really ping—the touch of the black keys of the piano." 

Victoria Beckham in Louboutin Double Platform Knotted Gressimo Mule Peep Toe for Glamour Magazine
4. "One thing I detest, I have to say, is when a shoe is too soft, and it's molding to the foot. This is quite disgusting. And I really, really hate incredibly long shoes, where the last is very pointy, almost like Aladdin."
5. "The shiny red color of the soles has no function other than to identify to the public that they are mine. I selected the color because it is engaging, flirtatious, memorable and the color of passion."

Rasmussen Photography - Christian Louboutin 'Henry' d'Orsay Pumps
6. "Yes, I wanted to be a shoe designer, but I never thought it could be a profession. But what was the alternative? Doctor? Too dirty! Air hostess? Maybe not! Then someone gave me a book on Roger Vivier and, cherie, instantly I knew that was it!"

7. "The core of my work is dedicated not to pleasing women but to pleasing men."
Piper-Heidsieck Champagne 'Le Rituele' Box Set
8. "I hate the concept of the clog! It's fake, it's ugly, and it's not even comfortable! And I hate the whole concept of comfort! It's like when people say, 'Well, we're not really in love, but we're in a comfortable relationship.' You're abandoning a lot of ideas when you are too into comfort. 'Comfy'—that's one of the worst words! I just picture a woman feeling bad, with a big bottle of alcohol, really puffy. It's really depressing, but she likes her life because she has comfortable clogs."

9. "The shoe is very much an X-ray of social comportment"

10. "When a woman buys a pair of shoes, she never looks at the shoe. She stands up and looks in the mirror, she looks at the breast, the ass, from the front, from the side, blah blah blah. If she likes herself, then she considers the shoe."

Cara Grogan for Agent Provocateur wearing Christian Louboutin
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Thursday, March 24, 2011

Elizabeth Taylor

The world has lost one of the greats. At 79 Elizabeth Taylor passed away. While I struggle for words to fully explain the contributions that she made in her life to cinema and charity, I leave you with this.

Dame Elizabeth Taylor, the world is a poorer place for having lost you.

National Velet 

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Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Yearning For More

Ink that is.

I go through stages with my desire for tattoos.I am always wanting more, this never changes, however the intensity differs, somewhat like an addiction

Generally these pangs of addiction strike as a result of seeing someone elses new tattoo or hearing that someone has booked in to have work done.

Tattoo envy is a bitch.

Today its particulary strong and without good reason. Noone in my immediate circle nor even anyone in my Facebook community has even mentioned tattooing today. Nonetheless I find myself in that dangerous place where I would love to be able to ignore the fact that the electricity bill is due and run over and see if my tattoo guy can fit me in straight from work and spend a whole bunch of money that I can't afford.

It'd be worth it except that we need electricity for TV and cooking and hot water and for all of those little things which lend themselves towards living in a post-1800's society.

So to get me through the afternoon and save my money and the continuity of our electricity supply I have this:
Freja Beha Erichsen for Jil Sander  Spring/Summer 2011
Catherine McNeil
Kate Moss for Interview
Megan Fox for Armani 2011
Erin Wasson for Zadig et Voltaire 2011
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Monday, March 21, 2011


I should have expected it. I should have seen it coming. It is inevitable that any relationship will hit a rough patch. And despite my many prayers to the contrary, this one is no exception.

I thought that it was just a once off, that I could ignore it and sweet it under the proverbial carpet in that overly common and marginally unhealthy manner that most people in a relationship will do at one stage or another. But when designer after designer sent models down the runway in flats and "flatforms" I knew that I could no longer stand idly by in silent acceptance of my lovers misdemeanour.

A relationship should be a two way street but while i'm giving you my love, interest and support, Fashion Week, you're giving me this?

Prada Patent Leather Platform $650
I do understand what Lanvin's Alber Elbaz meant when he told InStyle magazine that you should buy shoes that you're comfortable in. But Alber...i'm comfortable in 5 inch heels! I have been wearing them so long that the nerve endings in my toes and the balls of my feet have been conditioned such that I am impervious to any pain or discomfort that seems to plague the general public. I am often baffled by the scores of young women carrying their beautiful shoes and walking barefoot through the city after a big night out:

1. If you're going to buy them...suck it up and wear them.
2. Ew!

At the same time I don't abuse my stilettos such that the padding in the balls of my feet will be utterly destroyed by middle age because well...i'm still going to need feet in my 50's. I definitely understand that it put the models at ease, not having the inherent fear of being the first girl at Fashion Week to fall prey to the 6+ inch heels that stampede every runway and have physiotherapists and orthapedic surgeons the world over cringing to their core.

Believe it or not, I do have flats in my collection, my favourite? A pair of ever so cute Sigerson Morrison 9612 Nero Suede ballet flats which, when teamed with the right outfit are make for an impeccable and sparkly footwear choice. And even the most seasoned heel wearer is forced to admit that heels are not always appropriate for every occasion. Shock horror. And before you start screaming blasphemy, prodding me with pitchforks and dragging me to the stake to burn me for my herecy stop and wonder if perhaps those heels that you wore with that maxi dress for a casual summer rooftop partydidn't leave you looking mighty overdone amid the sea of sundresses and embellished leather flats.

Derek Lam
Anna Sui

So yes, I do understand that there is a time and place for flats and that you don't always need your legs to be elongated and your calves to be accentuated or to take advantage of the fact that no matter how tall your heels, unless you invest in a pair of stilts you will never be taller than your male counterpart (don't pretend that if you're going out with a short man, your shoe options aren't limited). I am the first to say that I am a fan of strappy flat Spring/Summer sandals perfect for afternoon picnics in the Botanical Gardens and such.

Michael Kors
Derek Lam
But I ask you. Flatforms?

Are you sure?

I have a feeling that I am the butt of some strange prank or that I am on the outer of an exclusive geisha-inspired inside joke concocted by Derek Lam, Karl Lagerfeld, Miuccia Prada and Phillip Lim just to fuck with me. Just for the record, guys. This shit isn't funny.

And last I checked, the Geneva Convention rules against cruel and unusual punishment.

I have just come to terms with but haven't taken part in the wooden clog craze that invaded the country last season and is still seemingly adorning the feet of every one that isn't me

I do also of course understand (aren't I very understanding in this post!) that you don't have to wear everything that trots down the runway at New York Fashion Week, partially because you would have to sell a kidney and probably part of your liver to pay for it and partially because it isn't necessarily for everyone. I'm sure that there are people out there on whom the flatform will look rather fetching, rather than something reminiscent of the Spice Girls in the 90's as I fear that I would.

I however will be sticking to what I know and if anyone says that pointy toed kitten heels are making a comeback, there will be blood.

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Sunday, March 20, 2011

Easy Like Sunday Morning

It was 11:56 when I started typing this so this post title is still valid. Although on further reflection, the rest of this post really isn't!

Sometimes there is nothing better than spending the morning alone in my apartment with a 600Gb external harddrive full of movies and TV shows and an endless supply of tea. Yes tea. Breaking the nicotine addiction also led to the breaking of my minimum twice daily Venti addiction, and has left me with a caffeine intolerance so low that a mere "Tall" skim latte from Starbucks renders me useless, my body enters uncontrollable spasms and my eyes begin slipping in and out of focus in a sort of dance, not unlike a traditional Eastern European dance, performed in a circle with linked hands, kicking, grapevine-ing feet, increasing so rapidly in pace that a rut is worn in the hardwood floors before the song is over. When the music ends, the spasming is over and my eyes slip slowly back into focus I am left on a serious come down. Wanting to curl myself into a ball, rock back and forth and shut out all natural light until the end of time. The problem being that most of the time I have had a coffee at work and am forced, for the rest of the day at never ending spreadsheets and hear the incessant clacking of of the keyboards around our open plan concrete floored, remarkably well acoustically designed and windowless office.

So yes, its now Sunday afternoon and i'm drinking tea, sitting in Boyfriends chair, while feeding my ongoing hunger for 90's TV shows and an oft shirtless and always dark and brooding David Boreanaz I am simultaneously filling in an introductory survey for a conference for my new job, my introduction to the new and already established team of which i am shortly to become a part. The problem is trying to think up answers which are true to myself and my beliefs but so serious that I come across as a humourless and bland which I like to think that I am the exact opposite of. I want to be witty and light calling on some of the greatest pop culture references which, being a child of the 80's are at my easy disposal. The questions is...will the other people get them. Will the new colleague with whom I have a scheduled phone call in half an hour get my references or will there be awkward minutes of telephone silence as he writes down my nonsensical answers with a complete lack of comprehension at my attempted humour.

The very future of my status within the new team relies on the implied awesomeness that I can purvey in the answers to survey. No pressure though.

The questions that i'm struggling with the most and one that I would LOVE to hear your answers to...3 people who inspire you and why?

To help you ponder the answer to this, I give you David Boreanaz in the poster sized photo (thank you teen magazine whose name I have now forgotten) that adorned the back of my bedroom door for some years during high school.

I don't know about you.

But I feel inspired.

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Friday, March 18, 2011

These Boots Were Made For Walking

So I have changed gyms recently. It was a tough decision and felt like a genuine break up. Oestracising myself from our happy little group and leaving the training studio for the last time was performed with a heavy heart and a sense of dreading that I would not have the motivation to push myself as hard as my trainer had. I was wondering if the new trainer would be able to work me as hard.

I am now paying for my doubt...after the second session with my new trainer two days ago my old nemesis DOMS has moved in and I am aching in the deepest darkest recesses of muscles that I clearly hadn't developed yet. My thighs are so tight that you could bounce a coin off them much like the sheets on a Marine's bunk. I am walking with awkwardly straight legs, not unlike a young Forrest Gump (before the corrective leg braces miraculously crumbled about his ankles and fell away, leaving him with such perfect alignment and muscle development that he was able to evade his would be agressors with ease). And because the ferocity of the spasms generated during a regular step forward are such that one could be forgiven for thinking that collapse is imminent.

I have thankfully found relief from my aching thighs in the form of a pair of beautiful, slouchy charcoal grey 5-inch hidden platform stiletto booties from Tony Bianco. These boots were introduced to my shoe family last winter as a placebo for the Louboutins that I had been lusting after. These babies have been on temporary hiatus; vacationing for a little R & R with my wonderful little European shoe repair man. He is a God. There is not shoe that he cant fix...not even me with my 7 pairs of stilettos which really only need the right heel tip replaced from a couple of years of favoring my left leg after previously mentioned incidents left me somewhat limpy, have stumped him.

Joy and rapture, they have returned and are of the optimal height, encompassing the perfect angle from the top of the heel to the platform in such a manner that all pressure is alleviated from my burning thighs.

Therapeutic, ergonomically designed and aesthetically pleasing. I may have found the perfect bootie.

Oh, and ignore those pesky, mildly alarming and scientifically researched articles which cite the dangers of the over use of high heels and listen to me.

5 inch heels make everything better.

They make you smile and swoon, they fill you happy feelings and their continued acquirement makes warm and fuzzy in your capitalist sensibility places. More importantly they turn you from a fictional ambulationally challenged southern boy whose older self will be played in Oscar winning perfection by Tom Hanks to a runway model...or at least someone with the shoes of one.

Buy shoes.

They fix shit.

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Thursday, March 17, 2011

Autumn/Winter 2011

For those of us who live in Melbourne, the reality is that no matter the season its probably a good idea to have both an umbrella and a jacket close at hand because frankly our weather is kind of a tempestuous bitch. A bitch? Yes. Melbourne weather is definitely a woman. Despite her inconsistent nature we love her.

We especially love her bitterly cold winters. Yes, bitter cold with biting winds doessn't traditionally call for a resounding YAY but it does call for winter clothes.

Coats and jackets and boots. Oh My!

The staples in my wardrobe...surprise surprise largely consist of leather jackets and boots a beautiful black trench and far as the eye can see.

Meet my babies:

Frye Engineer boots. Image: tiiutigerlily
French Connection Sammie Leather Jacket
Sergio Rossi over the knee flat leather boots
I know that for the girls out there who don't believe in pants that winter can be a tough time, one of my very best friends still struggles with the occasional and unavoidable necessity of wearing pants instead of a dress...a weekend at the snow was one such occasion. For you ladies, all I have is this, wear for leggings or stockings under your heavier fabric dresses.

But for the love of Lagerfeld COVER YOUR ASS! I'm sorry girls but leggings are not pants. The only time it is acceptable to wear them as such is to the gym, running, yoga...any excercise related event and no, running to catch your train does not count.

Buy some pants.

This is my winter.
Layers and textures...mix it up, pile it on.
Be warm.
Look hot.

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Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Ruby Tuesday

She would never say where she came from
Yesterday don't matter if it's gone
While the sun is bright
Or in the darkest night
No one knows
She comes and goes

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...

Don't question why she needs to be so free
She'll tell you it's the only way to be
She just can't be chained
To a life where nothing's gained
And nothing's lost
At such a cost

There's no time to lose, I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams
And you will lose your mind.
Ain't life unkind?

Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you...
       -Mick Jagger/ Keith Richards

Few things make me as happy as songs like this but realising that today is Tuesday and NOT Monday is up there.

Some random celebratory non-Monday love for you (also, as yesterday was a public holiday I am too busy today to write anything of substance. Don't hate me)

 Images courtesy of we heart it

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