My Guy

The air smells wet. Like, it has that faint but decidedly moist whiff to it. That soggy sense clings to you, and you're acutely aware that it's November.
Bonfire night is one of my favourite calendar events of the year. It arrives in the most understated manner, without the expectations that come with New Years Eve, or the effort that Halloween demands, and it completely blows the non-event that is Easter out of the water. Strangely, I always find there's something quite cleansing about gazing into a great mountain of fire. Catharsis, and all that. Plus there's the technicolour treat of fireworks, that climb and fizzle and whistle and crackle and finally pop.

I had the rare opportunity to enjoy a day of 'solitude shopping' in Birmingham yesterday. However anti-social it may be, I always prefer to go shopping by myself rather than with a group of friends, as you're able to focus 100% on what you need to get. After sensible deliberation (mainly brought on by the fact that, much as I hate to admit it, I am not in possession of a limitless bank balance) I settled on a thick cerulean jersey jumper from Cos, and a black and white mohair-blend scarf from French Connection.

I only realised upon returning home and perusing their website that Cos is actually the far more dapper and cooler sibling of H&M - kept that one quiet, didn't you Cos? Their aesthetic is really comforting because it's all about taking items back to basics, but then enhancing them with little bits of detail, like the denim-wash effect that my jersey jumper has, which is barely noticeable unless you look closely on the sleeves. The simple template of all their designs really appeals to me, when so many things nowadays are covered in zips and patterns and pockets. The jersey jumper merely shrugs, 'I am jumper. You wear me.' Brilliant.
I know a lot of people find mohair a distracting son of an itch, but it never seems to give me much jip. It's one of those materials that you can't truly appreciate unless you give it a bit of a closer inspection; again, it's all about the detail. The scarf is a honeycomb web of warmth, and I can't wait to wear this and the jersey jumper together on Bonfire night.


The fact that a day of blissful Brumie browsing was bolstered by one of Starbucks' seasonal gingerbread latte's was just the cherry on top; liquid magic.

Man up

Following previous contemplation on whether the mlutch is a bold and beautiful move towards offering men more choice in the bag department, or if it's actually just a bit (whisper it) effeminate and sissy, I have found a solution: the mlutch should be held in the mouth. That's it, right between the gnashers. This revelation slapped me in the chops after a few vodka and lemonades on Saturday night.


See, manly.

A touch too mlutch?

It's not all that 'out there', if you think about it. Men have briefcases, satchels, man-bags in all shapes and sizes... The man clutch, or 'mlutch' if we wish to make it a bit snappier, was always in the pipeline. Nowadays, it's not simply a case of stuffing your wallet in your right-hand trouser pocket. You've got your mobile phone too (OK, OK, so that could go in the left-hand pocket...) But then what about your car keys? iPod? Epi-pen?! That last one is doomed to be just little pinhead me, but the concept of the mlutch isn't such a farcical notion if you consider it. The Father, with his stoic and unwaveringly traditional sensibilities, would no doubt tell me to "grow a pair".


3.1 Phillip Lim S/S 2010


Dolce & Gabbana S/S 2010


Salvatore Ferrangamo A/W 2010-11
All pictures are courtesy of GQ.

I think the trick is to keep it simple, sharp, straight-edged. A little like The Father. He'd be honoured. If you get it spot on, you might be lucky enough to look nearly as ice cool as Francesco Cominelli...


Slick bastard.

The forward-flying quiff

Absolutely flippin' typical. No sooner have I returned from the hairdresser's with my thick bush of a bog-brush (ahem) tamed, now sat resembling what can only be described as the "pin-head" look, than I stumble across the models from the Bottega Veneta AW10-11 show.

They are sporting gravity-defying, forward-flying quiffs! I feel like I've been stabbed in the eye! I. WANT.







All pictures are courtesy of GQ.

Please dial again

Something pretty exciting happens when you watch the music video for Lady Gaga's 'Telephone'. In fact, that entire sentence is so understated as to render it absolutely redundant. It's less a run-of-the-mill 'music video', and rather a 9 and a half minutes tour de force spectacular, a post-modern pastiche of what a promo clip should be. This clip is not observed; you become fully immersed in its idea of 'celebrity' - executed in such a way that its satire is anything but satirical - and the present landfill of product placement is acknowledged, trashed, spat back out, and recycled. 'Something pretty exciting happens' when you make a sandwich, doesn't it?

And that's not all. Its length hints back to a time when the release of a new video by a popstar was a big event; iconic promos such as Michael Jackson's 'Thriller', which displays artistry and ambition that is still lauded today. With our continuous crop of 'here-to...-oh-you've-already-gone' music acts, a video such as 'Telephone' stands out, with its synergy of pop artist and pop culture which can only truly occur when a thing is actually 'popular'.

Do I sound gaga? Maybe, but 'Telephone' proves that we want literal popstars, astronomically exaggerated human beings that have been shot out of the centre of the universe. I want someone wrapped in nothing but police tape whilst wearing a telephone on her head, thankyouverymuch!

The £56 million question

I could write a blog entry with some semblance of a thoughtful and articulate pondering, but instead I'm simply going to throw together several self-indulgent meanderings about, well... nice thingz.

Inspired by the couple who won £56 million last weekend, and tottering around Stoke-on-Trent asking its inhabitants the same question (getting "smashed" featured quite a lot), I considered what three items I would have to immediately go out and buy if I won that amount of cash.

1. Acne leopard print desert boots

Grrrr, I'm an animal. They've been out for a while, and goodness knows why I don't picture myself looking like Bette Lynch on speed, but these Acne desert boots have some kind of strange hold over me.

2. Rodarte crewneck

Now, I realise I could probably create something akin to this just by getting a battered-up old jumper and skewering it with a fork, and for a price of just under £1,800 (gulp!), I'd probably be wiser to. Again, in my ridiculous mind, I imagine I would look like a spindle-spider, adorned in my own cobwebs...

3. Quinny by Henrik Vibskov mad print rain poncho

I'D LOOK LIKE SOME SORT OF DEMI-GOD.

And I'd still have £55,997,803 to play with!

Bossy boots

Have you heard the saying that when getting dressed in the morning, you should start at the bottom and work your way up? Sounds exactly the same advice that's given about careers, doesn't it? Well, seeing as I'm tentatively testing the first rung of my 'career' ladder - a word I hate, but let's save that for another blog - it seems appropriate to spend some quality T.I.M.E on footwear.

I feel that shoes are often something of an after-thought for many people. They buy something black, that will go with everything... and then that's it.

But it's high time we all paid a little more heed to the shoe. Yep, the boot and the brogue need to get their boss back on, as what you throw on those little pinkies should dictate the rest of your life... oh wait, I mean outfit.

Irregular Choice is an example of a company that never put their feet up. Constantly creating some of the most inventive designs around, some of the stuff is a bit too unconventional even for me, but a great deal of what they have to offer is uniquely brilliant. Plus, each set of shoes has its own ridiculous nickname. So, without further ado, may I introduce you to Fabbydo and Justin-Bobby, amongst others...

http://www.irregularchoice.com/

Pyjama-rama

Apparantly it's not limited to a selective few oddballs. It's not even an act that is considered embarrassing. In fact, it's supposedly becoming a national phenomenon. I'm referring to Britain's movement towards a more pyjama proud populus - specifically in the aisles of our fruits and veg. Supermarkets have had to explicity state on signs outside their doors that customers must be wearing appropriate dress and footwear, i.e. not your slips and nightgown. Some customers have remarked that those who shop in their loungewear cause them to be "embarrassed" and "offended".

I can't decide what to make of this. On the one hand, the image of myself doing the weekly shop in my pyjama top and bottoms causes my face to screw up in dread and I can't suppress the instinctive reaction to snort in derision. But I also can't help but enjoy the fact that people feel comfortable enough with what they are wearing (albeit not much) to go out in public like this. To be honest, with the recent surge in popularity of those grey trackie bottoms that every man and his dog seem to be wearing, coupled with the resilience of the fuggin' ugg boot, it's not suprising that we're taking things back to basic. Emphasis on casual comfort and... wearing what you sleep in? Perhaps this is a new market the fashion industry can tap into a little more. It's the only item of clothing that's still not produced in any manner that can really be considered 'high fashion', isn't it? Hell, if Britain is known for its multi-culturalism, perhaps it can be known for its 'multi-couturism' too...?

Walk this way

I really will go to one of these someday.

As usual in times of panic (I have my first NCTJ exam tomorrow), I decide to turn to pretty things. There's been a buzz on the net over the recent Paris and Milan fashion weeks, so I thought I'd casually cast my critical eye over what the designers were offering up this time round.

In my extremely unprofessional view, three designers stood out: Prada, Rick Owens and Hermes. Prada showed in Milan, with a collection that possessed a classic masculinity, with sharp lines and defined silhouettes, that still sneaked in some mottled knitwear in jaded bubblegum and arctic blues. The short, quite feminine cut and fit of the knitwear worked really well with the tailored trousers and suit jackets. Following Burberry's lead, the outerwear also seemed to over-exaggerate the collar, with the snow white coat being my favourite.

In the opposite direction was Rick Owens' collection. A brave cross between mythical drapes and forward-thinking shapes and lines, the designer's showing was a simple palette of blacks and whites, with some fur and snakeskin thrown in to liven things up a bit. The beastial 'coat' and smooth minimalist black jacket with the belt over the top are eye-catching but understated. It's a look that might not be to everyone's taste, but it has some kind of dream-like hold over me everytime I glance at it. And check out those gloves!

And finally, Hermes presented a look that is, in contrast to Owens, very wearable and durable. There are flashes of flamboyancy with long scarves perfectly placed and sorbet red velvet trousers, but the basics remain quite simple. However, the fact that one model manages to wear a parka jacket and still retain his credibility deserves immediate applause. The metallic mac is also a winner.

What do you think? All pictures are courtesy of GQ.

Why I love fashion

Tanya Gold is a peculiar woman. On one hand, she can write witty little wisecracks about the the liberating pleasures of living by oneself (exhibit A - "I am a snoring, farting walrus/wildebeest-type creature, lying on melted chocolate buttons with a copy of Hello! scrunched between my thighs") and the difficulty of letting a man into this space (exhibit B - "Sleeping next to Man, I feel threatened. I have awoken to find myself punching people in the face"). And yet it appears she is also capable of throwing together some absolute tosh.

Case in point: a piece that was published in Thursday's copy of The Guardian, entitled 'Why I Hate Fashion' http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/jan/22/i-hate-fashion-tanya-gold (exhibit C).

To summarise, the points Miss Gold makes:
1) Fashion is elitist, unaccessible, and purely there for profit.
2) Fashion was responsible for the death of a 16-year-old girl in West Sussex.
3) Fashion made one 16-year-old model miserable.
4) Fashion decrys Tanya's new-found weight, and has kicked her out of its exclusive club.

There is a lot wrong with the fashion industry, but Tanya Gold must surely be the true definition of a 'fashion victim'. It annoys me how so many people are snobbish about an industry that is founded upon everyday life and a wealth of creativity.

The tale of the two girls is silly and short-sighted. The true beauty of fashion is that it is (secretly, it seems) anti-elitist, expressive and available for all bodies and builds. It might be there for profit, but at the end of the day so are all commodities, and when you're living in these items day-in and day-out, surely they must be seen as investments? Fashion is one of the most open clubs in town; it's your own fault if decide not to step through the door.

The best bit, however, in all of this is the picture.

I mean, OH MY. I wheezed.
Can you imagine the photographer? "What we've gone for here is a unique take on the Lily Allen 2006 look, teaming a khaki ocean with some very chic Primark trainers; it shall be called bag-lady. Right, now that's it, hunch over a little more. Let's try again, but can you look a little bit more shit darling...?"

(You may also notice Tanya look decidedly more glamorous for the contributor image on the Guardian's website...)

Those mannequins are brilliant however, filled with a venomous disgust of what has fallen before them. The only thing that can save Tanya Gold now is if one of the mannequins (or both, if they so wish) would do her the courtesy of stepping out of the window and providing her with a quick wallop about the face with a Chanel handbag, or a fast jab to the knee with a Wang heel.

Speckled hen

It's long been common knowledge that guys have always been far more limited than gals when it comes to clothing design. If you venture out to buy a top, you can guarantee it'll either be a plain colour, striped or checked. That or, heaven forbid, it'll have one of those soul-diminishing slogans that proudly reads "please return to the bar" (or something).

But my dear whipper-snappers, do not despair! For I have recently discovered a surge of what can only be described as 'speckled' items entering the marketplace. Subtle, and yet full of big old impact, I find this new style really interesting because of the effect it can have on an outfit as a whole. The effect is one of slap-dash "couldn't-care-less" attitude, with the pattern looking quite distressed and worn, and I think, if put together correctly, it can bring a really different feel to an outfit.

These are a few of my favourite pieces that I've spotted.

The problem with this 'speckled' design pattern is that the detail can be so minute that you may not be able to tell from the photo what I'm even spouting about...! These are in the Topman sale for only £25 (I snatched some up the other week) and they're from the shop's "Ltd" collection, which I suppose must hint at higher quality... The charcoal colour is pretty versatile, and even though they're dressed on the model with a shirt, I've been wearing them more as casual trousers, with hi-top trainers or big old brown leather boots. The trousers immediately smarten an outfit up, but because of the speckled print they still retain this casual, quickly-put-together image.

http://www.topman.co.uk/

Another piece currently at a reduced price (I found it in an Urban Outfitters store), but at over £100 it's still quite pricey. This woollen cardigan by APC is grey, but because of the multi-coloured speckled effect it has splashed across it, in navy blues and deep reds (amongst others), the colouring of it is unique. I even think it gives off a pink kind of hue. The mannequin wearing it on the website has the cardigan fitted with a pale blue shirt underneath, but if you're a slim shady character like me, then I think it works well if the cardigan is slightly over-sized.

http://www.oipolloi.com/