Friday, 28 February 2014
Wednesday, 26 February 2014
Hoarding with purpose...
I’m a little hoarder. I think we all are. We all form
attachments to things we love, found or wore simply because they have some form
of sentimental value attached to them. However, I’d like to think that I hoard
with purpose, with a sense of investment. I like to keep things that may
increase in value somewhere a long the period of my living or perhaps my
grandchildren’s. Nevertheless, my hoarding not only has meaning and sentiment
attached to it but also a sense of practicality and economical value.
I
strongly believe in upcycling or making new things out of old things or turning
boring things into interesting things. The transformation of anything from
scratch to a finished product is a thrilling process for me. And one of my biggest
hoarding habits is collecting magazines. I find it physically difficult to let
go of all these amazing images and photographs of fabulous things. Although I must
admit, even though I myself am a stylist, I often forget to look at the credits and simply treasure the image because I've fallen it love with it, and if I love it so much, I will
store it. I have an archive full of images ripped out of magazines that are
chaotically organised into sub categories; from beauty, style, art, fashion
icons to patterns, having created my own
little time capsule of what inspires me.
These images have a purpose, they always do, they often serve as a base
for art work, paintings, collages or simply making something old new and funky.
One of my most recent inventions was taking a simple
sketchbook and giving it a bit of me ie character:
A long haul of lots of little characteristic pages, littered bits from magazines and old articles are used to create something that makes it unique, identifiable and totally in tune with my character. #loveit
QUEEN OF STYLE, MISTRESS OF STITCH xoxo |
Thursday, 13 February 2014
Elegance with a dash of Darling...
Elegance with a dash of Darling by Bones&Heels
I'm nervous, almost fidgety, tapping my fingers, sipping on the glass of water, the waiter so nicely poured out for me earlier. I take a glance at my watch for the fifth time now perhaps and look up slyly keeping my eye on the long shiny black door, a few metres from where the entering guests are welcomed.
She's late. 'Typical' I don't think within the time that I have known her she has ever been on time. She has a bad habit of taking pleasure in the things she does that make her late, I am almost certain. I take another glance at my watch, this time frustratingly taking a large gulp of water to cool down my annoyance.
'How can she do this every time?' I Question myself for still sitting there waiting and why I'm annoyed at the same time. I finally decide to call the waiter over to replace the water with stronger liquids, perchance in the hopes to calm my nerves or release my genuine frustration.
Just as I take my first sip of the whiskey placed in front of me, I see a tall figure entering the large black door. The liquid feels like a warm glissade rush down my throat. Covered in a long black cape, she steps inside wearing confusion as her choice of facial expression. All of a sudden, its like pin drop silence and everything is in slow motion. I watch her from afar, eloquently making her way to the waiter who politely takes her coat from her, revealing her naked shoulders as she watches the coat slide off her body, thanking him politely, I assume. I watch as all eyes gaze upon her and she is so oblivious to it all. She is stunning, in a white dress, gleaming like a Goddess, from afar. Our eyes meet from afar, she looks at me with a cheeky glint in her eyes. She knows I'm mad but I think I just melted. She makes her way over, floating amongst the diners, my eyes never leaving hers. Her red stilettos arranging the perfect soundtrack to her march over to the table. Her grace and elegance enlightening the room, as she comes closer wearing a bold smile on her face.
'Hi there', she places a soft kiss on my cheek. Her sweet scent dispersing in the air.
'Hi', I reply.
'You look beautiful', the words leave my mouth before I get the chance to process them. Bollocks, I was meant to say 'You're late'.
It no longer mattered. She was here and we were here. The night followed with good food, great conversation and lots of laughs.
It was a night in heaven. She was mine and I was hers & nothing else existed.
I'm nervous, almost fidgety, tapping my fingers, sipping on the glass of water, the waiter so nicely poured out for me earlier. I take a glance at my watch for the fifth time now perhaps and look up slyly keeping my eye on the long shiny black door, a few metres from where the entering guests are welcomed.
She's late. 'Typical' I don't think within the time that I have known her she has ever been on time. She has a bad habit of taking pleasure in the things she does that make her late, I am almost certain. I take another glance at my watch, this time frustratingly taking a large gulp of water to cool down my annoyance.
'How can she do this every time?' I Question myself for still sitting there waiting and why I'm annoyed at the same time. I finally decide to call the waiter over to replace the water with stronger liquids, perchance in the hopes to calm my nerves or release my genuine frustration.
Just as I take my first sip of the whiskey placed in front of me, I see a tall figure entering the large black door. The liquid feels like a warm glissade rush down my throat. Covered in a long black cape, she steps inside wearing confusion as her choice of facial expression. All of a sudden, its like pin drop silence and everything is in slow motion. I watch her from afar, eloquently making her way to the waiter who politely takes her coat from her, revealing her naked shoulders as she watches the coat slide off her body, thanking him politely, I assume. I watch as all eyes gaze upon her and she is so oblivious to it all. She is stunning, in a white dress, gleaming like a Goddess, from afar. Our eyes meet from afar, she looks at me with a cheeky glint in her eyes. She knows I'm mad but I think I just melted. She makes her way over, floating amongst the diners, my eyes never leaving hers. Her red stilettos arranging the perfect soundtrack to her march over to the table. Her grace and elegance enlightening the room, as she comes closer wearing a bold smile on her face.
'Hi there', she places a soft kiss on my cheek. Her sweet scent dispersing in the air.
'Hi', I reply.
'You look beautiful', the words leave my mouth before I get the chance to process them. Bollocks, I was meant to say 'You're late'.
It no longer mattered. She was here and we were here. The night followed with good food, great conversation and lots of laughs.
It was a night in heaven. She was mine and I was hers & nothing else existed.
MSGM full a line skirt / Jeffrey Campbell red stiletto pumps / Kate Spade metallic clutch / M C L by Matthew Campbell Laurenza black spinel jewelry, $2,090 / Clinique powder blush, $34 / Bobbi Brown Cosmetics lip gloss makeup / Maybelline black gel eyeliner / Valentino edp perfume, $145 / Nail polish / Clinique nail polish / John Lewis red home accessory, $4.08 / Byredo hand made candle
Labels:
Bobbi Brown Cosmetics,
Bones&Heels,
Byredo,
Clinique,
Elegancedarling,
fashion,
Jeffrey Campbell,
John Lewis,
Kate Spade,
M.C.L by Matthew Campbell Laurenza,
Maybelline,
MSGM,
style,
Valentines,
Valentino
Friday, 7 February 2014
SWEET POISON
She's a dangerous woman, melting souls with the secrets behind her brown eyes, crushing hearts in the palms of her hands and always strutting by in cigarette stilettos so high. All you need is a glimpse of her to taste that sweet poison.
Oscar de la Renta black velvet dress / Christian Louboutin black high heel shoes / Mulberry top handle handbag / Kate spade necklace / Dsquared2 glove / Icon Brand Party Started Paper Wallet, $13 / Moisturizing lipstick / Urban Decay palette eyeshadow / Chantecaille thick eyeliner / MAC Cosmetics burgundy lipstick / Spray perfume
One of Fashions most iconic faces and the ultimate tough woman Miss. Campbell is certainly not one to be afraid to bare it all. With her latest nude cover for Interview magazine, Naomi just proved that age is nothing but a number, flaunting a perfectly untainted body at the age of 43, Naomi exudes just as much sexuality and prowess as she did when she first hit the scene. Check out some of Naomi's infamous Naked moments as we revisit the Naked Naomi Archive.
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"Naked Naomi" Collage by Bones&Heels |
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