.

.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

What Your Winter Coat says About You



1. The Cape: Holy vestments cool girl, look at you in your KAPOW ensemble, oh you thought you were going for the lady of the manor look? No, everyone is looking at you and  thinking urban crime fighter. 



2 The Poncho: The Man With No Name stole your heart at  thirteen and has yet to give it back, take a puff on that cheroot for me.


3 The Parka: Shackleton chic, make sure you eat before your vertiginous High St expedition , we don’t want another case of ‘tastes like chicken” cannibalism on our hands.



4 The Camel Hair: You Patrician snob, shaving sheep isn’t enough for you, it gives you the hump, you demand  that the finest ships of the desert dock for your fashion edification.


5  The Duffle: Don’t cry or get your toggles in a twist, but I’m afraid  Paddington wasn’t real. 


6. The Cocoon: Only for the willowy, these voluminous carapaces will make mere mortals look like cobras who have just chowed down a pig.


7 The  Double Breasted: Oh look at you with your au courant minimal  embonpoint, your evening look is Le Smoking slashed to the waist, you are peaking in this season’s hottest look -  vertical cleavage 
Laura Bailey in Shrimps - all the rage at the moment here.

8. Faux Fur: You may spark when you walk unless you are suitably grounded by rubber soled boots but at least know no one can ever call you Cruella.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Wolf Whistle.

MaxMara and Hermes melange.Coat: here Jumping Boots (brown) : here 

No wonder the law of contemporary  etiquette states to older women: cover thy knees, thy gnarly crone. (my dress isn't that short, it had ridden up) Stunned by my snub nosed patella, I said to my other half, that's utterly  hideous, take another one: 


Which  made me realise that the sweet bird  of youth has well and truly flown the coop. 
After scoffing my pretzel and bemoaning my lost pulchritude, 
I walked out of Pret only to see a   newly blonde  Naomi Wolf  walking along  the street, yes that Naomi Wolf,  feminist, academic and  author of some of my favourite books, The Beauty Myth and  Vagina: a  new biography. I went from startled Hallowe'en cat to rampant fan girl in less than ten seconds and headed off like a greyhound out of  a trap in hot pursuit of her, all whilst having this inner dialogue with myself, "What are you going to say? Is this daft? No on you go,  just do it.  What if she thinks you're  a stalker? You utter fool, stop this now." When I finally caught up  with her after crying, "Miss Wolf" across Buchanan St, she was quite quite lovely and very chatty, charm personified, even though my eyes were as wide as saucers and I looked as if I had just snorted Ketamine.  I was dying to ask if I could take her photograph but I didn't want to be too intrusive, she was over  here to talk at a pro Independence rally in George Square. There's nothing like a brush with  literary stardom to illuminate a dull Sunday afternoon.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Hi Ho Hi Ho


I took this photo, in M&S, as I know that everyone loves to see an outfit pic, however prosaic, so as I strolled through, I spotted  a mirror and thought, "that will do", fished into my pocket for my phone and in full view of  Morningside matrons,  snapped away. People looked at me as if I was insane - believe me, I would have been the first person to sneer but I kept my blogger blinkers on and walked staunchly  ahead, switching my eyes on to glazed and indifferent mode, of course I was cringing inside.

And then I read this in the Times.


Oh and yes, my jeans are too long when worn with flats, I've got Norah Batty  rumply ankles going on there.
Loafers: Tod's
Coat: Amanda Wakeley - it reminds me of step cuts and the Chrysler building, (alas I can no longer fasten the belt around my burgeoning waistline.)



 This is one of my daily walks to work just now, well one of them, I also work in Glasgow. My morning meander around Stockbridge 
is a gloriously magical stony path set amongst a pedestrian day.

(Dani, head to Brora keep walking down that road, turn left at the church - ta da!) 

Glasgow and Edinburgh, separated by 50 miles, are historically at loggerheads with each other.

1. Chips: Edinburgh serves salt and sauce (brown sauce mixed with vinegar) Glasgow serves salt and vinegar - I haven't eaten chips for 30 years but always had mine plain - with a  battered black pudding.

2. Glasgow is the more creative and arty metropolis despite Edinburgh hosting the world's largest arts festival every August.

3. Glaswegians from all walks of life are just funnier and more adventurous, many have relatives whose very last words were:
WATCH THIS!

4. Edinburgh has successfully banished Neds to the fringes of the city while Glasgow has generously given them the  run of the city centre. (A "Ned" for those outwith the UK is an aggressive character with behavioural issues, usually skinny and liable to speak with a high pitched nasal whine. ) 

5. It has often been said that Edinburgers spend their money on property and education while Glaswegians spend their money in Armani and Versace. 



There's something dank and verdantly mysterious  about this gate which always reminds me of the book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.





Mews houses in Circus Lane.










Great local bookshop, so rare these days.