Before I left for holiday, I went to see my favourite hairdresser, Collette, at my favourite salon in the world, Windle, on Shorts Gardens in Covent Garden. Besides that she's a brilliant haircutter who really listens to what you want and gives you what you had in mind, but better, she's also got great personal style. Her hair, clothes, overall look is her own unique blend of Parisian coquette (she's English), slightly punk, with a hint of ironic roaring twenties 'shopgirl'.
The day I was in, her vintage-looking grey dress echoed that 'I'm just a shop girl' feel, and as you know, I'm loving that pale dove grey with pale skin and platinum hair, which is so this season. (I've been thinking a lot about the history of grey recently: Kristin Dunst was wearing it in the opening scenes of Maria Antionette, which I saw with my mom last night on DVD. And there was a lot of grey in Hollywood in the 20s, 30s, and 40s, because of course, film was shot in black and white, and if you wore grey you'd know what you were getting - colours could go either way. Even in the sixties, I was reading about how Jackie Kennedy, America's Icon, would get specific about tones of grey, especially a colour she called 'griege' - a cross between grey, and beige.)
This is me looking slightly catatonic and severe, as I try to hold still and record my haircut (we chopped a lot off, which is good, as I was so happy with my last haircut from her that I went months before coming back. It just lasted so long. That happens to her a lot, apparently).
Collette's shoes. She got them 'somewhere, no place special'.
And as a final footnote, a shot of my shoes (Topshop, last season), because I wanted you to see the cool stone floor of the basement where we get our hair washed: one of the most relaxing scalp massages in town. I want to put this floor into our bathroom when we re-do the place.
And on another grey note on a perfect summer day: with my brother & niece back in town, and my husband not arriving til Thursday, it's just me & my mom, having a blast on the end of Long Island. My sister said it's a slippery slope to Grey Gardens. Just call me Little Edie.
Off to the beach now for the two Edies: just a long walk down grey weathered stairs to the stone beach below, which look like grey versions of the black Windle stairs. Thus bringing my little story full circle.