tali ho!

When I first met Tali Lennox (her model name: her dad is Israeli film and record producer Uli Fruchtman, and her mom is Annie Lennox, so she goes by both), it was at a fashion week, and I took her photos and she liked them so much she used them as her facebook profile, so we became facebook friends.

I didn't know who she was, just thought she was really nice.



Now she's like, everywhere: Burberry campaign, blah blah blah, but the thing is, she's still really, really nice. Normal: a real girl's girl. The other thing about her is she is an absolute chameleon: she looks totally different all the time. So you might think you don't know her, but you do, trust me.

I saw her at Vogue's Fashion Night Out last Thursday night, at the private Juicy Couture party: she was guest DJing, along with a guy who seemed to be an actual DJ. (I have just been informed by Elise @Juicy Couture: that regular DJ was Johnny Borrell, lead singer of Razorlight. KICKING MYSELF for being such an idiot, ignoring him, not taking his photo, and so on, but I was too busy chatting with Tali).







'Do you have to learn how to do this?' I asked. 'Not really,', said Tali, as she kind of wiggled the thingys on the board around, to show me how easy it is. Not rocket science, clearly.






Champagne and killer Cornish frozen yogurt in rose or elderflower, by HedgeRow: as Sabine said, those Juicy girls really know how to throw a party.

polka dot's guide to being the perfect princess

Even back in January or February, when I was swimming in a pool in Palm Beach County, Florida, someone, when he realised we lived in London, asked if I was going to the wedding. My automatic response, of course, was 'which wedding' (assuming he thought I was someone else and he was talking about, you know, a relative I was not related to).

Growing up on Long Island, I can't tell you how many times one of my friends would say about another, behind her back 'she's such a princess' (and, I have no idea how many times it was said about me).





In light of the fact that my American friends are all now asking me wedding questions (and none of my British friends are) - and I just realised, two of my friends - sisters - are actual, bona fide princesses, and are probably actually going to That wedding - I've decided to provide for you my own Polka Dot Guide to being the Perfect Princess. The reason being, my Australian friend, while drinking Long Island Iced Tea from bone china gold rimmed tea cups, swore blind that one of the waiters from that event was the same waiter who was 'giving me the eye' at the Juicy event. Comparing photos now, I'm pretty sure they're different.



Rule Number One:
Mind your manners. Not just superficial please and thank you: respect other people's time. Don't keep people waiting, and if, for example, your coach is stuck in traffic, have a footman deliver an apology note. Failing that, call, or at last resort, text.




Rule Number Two:
Send Thank You notes. If someone does you a kindness, return that kindness.

Three: Behave, at all times, with Dignity. At least, in public. And if you can't, for Goodness Sake, don't tweet pic or post the evidence on facebook. Remember: discetion is a Potential Princesses Best Friend.




Four: CHOOSE YOUR PRINCE WISELY. It's all well and good, those stories about kissing frogs, but let's face it: they're not called Fairy Tales for nothing. Once a toad, always a toad, as mother would say. Not to mention, toads are.. slimey.

Five: Once you've set your sights on your Prince, you've got to catch - and keep - his attention. A see thru dress is a nice modern day equivalent of a glass slipper, but either way, make sure you're toned, and/or have had a pedicure on the day.



Six: Princesses can not afford a bad hair day: invest in some good shampoo. And remember the three rules: condition, condition, condition.

Seven: Just be forewarned: there are bound to be bumps in the road on the way to the altar. When he needs his space, do your own thing. Preferably with a cute young man.

Rule Number Eight: Provided you have done all the above successfully, and have snagged your prince, you're bound to have also attracted a few metaphorical Ugly Stepsisters along the way. It's gonna hurt, but try to take their envy as a compliment, and rise above it. Remember: living well is the best revenge.





Photos by me, from the Juicy Couture Press Day (see 'Juicy Couturier' for the story - it's Sir Norman Hartnell's original suite) and also at - conversely - the recent Converse Press Day, apart from the shots OF me, which were taken at our friends' wedding, years ago, Somewhere in Connecticut.

by appointment to her majesty

As before: at Sir Norman Hartwell's suite, now HQ for Juicy Couture, London.

juicy

This is the wildest coincidence: I first met Hayley with her friend Josie and another girl while I was running into the tube for a press event. I didn't give them a card, didn't pose them - just shot them as they were, with a crappy background (unstylish people etc) and ran off. As I left I heard them kind of squeal with girlish glee.

Hayley was the one who tracked me down and we emailed a few times. I never did post the shots, nor send them to her. THEN, this Monday, I passed two stylish girls and as they approached I was about to ask to shoot them and realised: it was Hayley and Josie!



But wait: on WEDNESDAY of this week - two days later - I was hanging out with Natayla on 'our couch' @ Cafe Nero, and we were just walking out when who did I see: the stylish duo once again! I'm saving the best bit of the story, tho, for another post: we don't want too much of a good thing in one day.



Hayley's fab leopard print velour hoodie by 'Juicy', as she called them (Juicy Couture). I was just thinking that very day, that the ubiquitous leopard print seemed to have fallen off Planet Fashion, when some style mag ran a piece about it, Natayla wore a great variation (post to come) and then, lo and behold, Hayley, rocking the look.

I didn't even ask about the rest: isn't it just amazing. Isn't SHE just amazing.

I can't thank you enough for your comments on Jazzy's post last night ('best face forward'). Please read them if you haven't already: I'd love to hear your thoughts. Your support - our collective support of each other - just blows me away. THIS IS SO NOT WHAT I EXPECTED from the 'fashion community.' This is really turning that whole Devil Wears Prada concept on its pretty little head.

re source full: alexandra

You might recall this recent post of Alexandra, who goes to school (college) near where we live. I'm posting this again because I'm so impressed with her sense of style, and her sources aren't simply designer or high street. In her own words:

"My coat is from Juicy Couture (sadly many buttons have fallen off though), I picked up the scarf a few years ago on holiday in Kenya, and the trousers are actually part of a playsuit I found at the vintage store beyond retro... I live in Notting Hill and many of my clothes are collected from my home ground of Portabello Market."

And her shoes, as before, are French sole. Stay tuned: I'm hoping to shoot her again from time to time, and l looking forward to seeing what other looks she can cook up.