you think this has nothing to do with you: 12.12.12

Woke up this morning: the sky is bright, deep, cerulean blue. Like Anne Hathaway's jumper in The Devil Wears Prada. And I realised, it's 12.12.12. I love that stuff. It's not going to be 12.12.12. for another thousand years. And I want today to count.


And here's the irony: only six years on, and Anne's jumper - which was chosen because it was so deeply uncool - is now so bang on trend. It's like they've just discovered jumpers. And the fashion industry is all over themselves about the idea of blue: cobalt, electric. It's like the Emperor's New Clothes - but then again, that's what fashion is all about. And here's the funny thing: I'm loving it, too.

It's such an easy trend to wear, because we've all got a bit of blue in our wardrobe. Unlike many of the others - shoes, especially, because it's hard to just pull the latest trend in shoes out of the back of our wardrobes - most of us still have something bright, something blue. And especially in London: when it's grey outside, the tendency is to sink into nudes and soft shades of grey and beige, like nursing a nice cup of tea, all cosy (although that's when I most want to be bold: stark black and white) - but when the sun is out, what I reach for is my brightest blues.

And I've got the best coup of all: a genuine Perri Ellis knitted long cardigan - and midi skirt - in cobalt blue cotton. It cost me more than a months' rent, in my early 20s, and I saved it all these years just in case.. the only thing that dates it are the softest of shoulder pads: apart from that, it's a classic, classy, simple white buttoned take on an upper class knitted 1920s lady's suit.. gorgeous sillhouette. I wish I could show it to you, but my camera has died and I'm not quite up to speed with my other one just yet. Hence going back thru the virtual wardrobe of my photo files, and finally finding the shot I've been looking for for ages: this smashing girl in stars, below.

I wish someone would have left a comment on my post last night ('for Azza'). Maybe no one's read it. That's okay: I wrote it, from the heart, and that's all that matters.

And after I've done a bit of work, cold or no cold, I plan to go outside. In my Perri Ellis jumper, probably over tight black riding trousers and riding boots, maybe my Uniqlo heattech turtle neck jumper. Celebrate today. Because it's not gonna come around again for another thousand years.

cavorting in a field of blue bells on an english spring day, being chased by big black dogs (a true story)

We first found the field of blue bells in the rain and the twilight, last Saturday, after having a wonderful May Day in Oxford with Mr. & Mrs. Crusader, then a visit with friends in the countryside. On the way home, we made a wrong turn, and passed something that took our breath away. Blue bells, glowing luminescent lilac blue in the twilight, as far back as our eyes could see. Just a flash, as we passed.



There's something iconic, magic, mythical about wild blue bell fields in England. I can't explain. People go mental for it. We found this one, and were determined to go back Monday, and (this was Mr. Dot's idea!) do a photo shoot. With him taking the photos. Of me. In some of my borrowed American Apparel clothing.

So we did, on Monday. When we got to the spot where you can park, other cars were there. It was like a Close Encounters of the Third Kind moment: all these people, drawn to this spot... we saw a father shooting his young daughter in what had to be her favourite hot pink dress, being a model.. it was wonderful.



I had just climbed over the barbed wire fence, having traversed the mud terrine (covering my favourite black suede Topshop harlequin pom pom ballet pumps), when the people dispersed. A woman with a big black dog or two appeared (in my memory, she also had a shot gun, but this being England, it's unlikely) and a few of her friends. It's an institute of some sort, and she said it was private property, and we were trespassing.


So we left, being chased by big black barking dogs. And, despondent, metaphorical tail between our legs, regrouped to Marlow, to the safety of a cafe.

Mr. Dot is an Englishman, descended from country stock, with the spirit of Dunkirk and Colditz and the whole British Empire coursing in his veins. He was not going to let that woman stop us from our fashion shoot. So, fortified with bagels and excellent coffee, back we went. And did our shoot: even got a few changes of clothing in.



It's taken me this long to post cause I couldn't choose my favourite shots. This will be a series, I promise, but the blue bells season doesn't last long: two weeks, at best. So, for those of you with a car, in the greater London area:

It's about a half hour from London, on the A 4155, the 'Marlow Road' - between Marlow, and Henley on Thames. Coming from Henley to Marlow, you'll pass the TOAD HALL on your right, and it's on your left. There's a small spot to park. Oh and Mr. Dot asked me to tell you, don't worry about the dogs. He's grown up with dogs and said these are 'just Black Labs, and they're harmless.'

Looking forward to seeing your shots, Cupcakes. Have a lovely Saturday! xoxo

Oh btw: Lemony cream raincoat by Zara (several seasons back), same with the Topshop black suede mud covered harlequin pom pom ballet flats. Riding pants, this season, borrowed from American Apparel. Camel wool jumper, vintage Prada. Wood bangle, TU Sainsbury's. Nude and lavender grey scarf as belt, also vintage. Blue bells: mother nature. Cost: priceless.

London Fashion Week: Day 1

Hello Boys & Girls,
It's after 10 - past Mr. Dot's bedtime actually - we just got home (I met him @ his club on Pall Mall, we had a quick but lovely dinner @ Pain Quotadien near South Ken tube) and I can't properly got thru the hundred or so shots I took today - man oh man if MY feet ache with my little 3/4 inch heel, I can only imagine what everyone else (some men included) must be feeling right now.





So in no particular order I"m gonna just whack up a bunch of today's shots, unedited and unretouched. I will leave the editorialising for you to do in your head. Or, preferably, as comments. I cherish all your comments!





All I'm going to say is: I LOVE LONDON FASHION WEEK!! It's my first ever - my first day of my first fashion week - and I was so blown away by how nice everyone was, how much fun it was... all these years I stayed away from the fashion industry because I assumed it was all so Devil Wears Prada. How wrong I was. It's much more like Carrie in Sex & the City: or at least that was my experience. Recognise Susie Bubble? She was bigger than I'd expected. I pictured a wee little thing. Altho, like just about everyone but me and a few other photographers running around, her height WAS elevated about a foot, by her shoes.





In short: it's all about the shoes. The shoes were the absolute celebrities today. Mostly very high wedges heeled peep toe booties, in suede. Mostly in black, but the biggest hit were a pair of red suede booties that I've seen on at least two women who were tall to begin with (if I wasn't in such a rush, I'd source it: does anyone know please?)



This girl, by the way, was the first casualty of LFW: a true fashion victim, she actually broke her foot TWISTING ON HER HIGH HEELS!!!




There was also a lot of black. And gold studs. And a lot of people on cell phones.




Oh, and sequins. More sequins than I have room to post here, but trust me, post them I will. All in good time, my pretties, all in good time. I'm pretty sure that the two blondes shown here are both wearing the same jacket, and I bet my bottom dollar (or pound) that it's the Topshop Premium Sequin Blazer, currently available in midnight blue, but I had my eye on it in white, and this looks like their grey/silver model, don't you think? This was very much the uniform, sequin jacket, black leggings and heels, shown here on my new friend Amy. I'm not kidding, I met the NICEST people!

Actually, I'm wondering if this grey boyfriend jacket isn't Topshop also. If it's not, you could certainly create the look with the Premium Satin Longline Blazer which would just set you back 75 quid. (Have you figured out yet, I am SO a Topshop girl!!)





The sun was out, so mercifully that at times I had to take off my Topshop Sequin Motorcycle Jacket (yes, readers, I did get it eventually: we called it a birthday present) and I'm glad I wore bare legs (with black ankle socks & black oxfords from Barneys circa 1995), because at times, it was quite hot. If there were a pool, I'd have dived in. I met so many nice people, and this is only day one. I'm pooped. I'm not saying these are my best shots, they're just the ones I happened to click on.




So on that note, this is Polka Dot, female reporter, signing off. As Scarlett O'Hara put it so well: tomorrow is another day.

xoxo