nerds' night out

We were hanging out with Alex (formerly Bingo), at our friends' Emma and Andrew's house, this really cool tall house in the middle of Hastings Old Town: five stories, white wood painted halls and stairs (we did that too, before we knew they did - probably around the same time). Andrew had made this great salsa and they ran out of corn chips, so I went outside to get more chips, and beer. It was twilight, early Saturday night in Hastings, and the style on the street... it looked like a Diane Arbus photo album, really atmospheric and moody.



So I came back, with the beer and the chips, got my camera, went back out, and ran into this lot. I asked Maria (above) why she and her friends were wearing over the knee socks - was it a coincidence - and she said 'we're having a nerds night out!' That's when I realised: they all had glasses on, which is bizarre for me in itself, considering that this week, in a 24 hour period, I was contacted by three unrelated people and brands - invited to do all kinds of interesting things to do with eyewear.

Anyway, it soon became clear I was not going to get that moody, Diane Arbus vibe, but hey, that's okay: what I love about life is, you absolutely cannot plan ahead. Just gotta go with the flow.













As I waved them goodbye, I didn't have any cards on me, so I just said 'google streetstyle London, you'll find me' and Maria said 'I really hope we can remember' which - I can't explain, it was the way she said it - was hilarious. So.. earnest. I really hope she does.

After the guys went to sleep, Emma and I were up, chatting, til 5:30, when Honey, the dog, decided she wanted to play catch up the top of the hill, above the town. I have never laughed so hard, not in a long time: Honey was relentless. She's in training, apparently, for some kind of 'fly ball' dog show in Bexhill. That is one ambitious dog.



Totally knackered now. I am too old to stay up all night. How was your weekend?

which wellies

And I am absolutely paralysed with indecision.

While friends in NY are reporting that it is a heatwave (98 and sunny) the skies have opened here in London: pitch black, the mews quaking with thunder and lightening and pouring rain. I was just about to go out, and I have the right rain gear for my head and torso (beige all weather hooded jacket) but no wellies (that's Wellington boots, rubber rain boots, to those who reside outside the UK, or who have recently arrived from another planet).

Here's my dilemma:

A while back, you might recall, I was invited to a party at Selfridges, to launch the new Havaianas Wellies line. As a thank you, I was to be gifted a pair, and these really nice girls took my shoe size and my order. I chose a nice fun brown paisley, but then, in the cold light of day I realised, I really can't do patterns. Not on Wellies.

That was even before I read that Daisy Lowe, when asked for festival style essentials, said wellies but only black or green, NO PATTERNS. I got in touch with Russell, who invited me, and asked to be switched to black. There's a lot more to the story which I won't bore you with the details - poor sweet Roxanne, at Yellow Door, has been up to her eyeballs with complaints with delayed deliveries, running out of colours (talk about beggars being choosers) and I was delivered the pair in the middle, which, while fine for some people, will simply not do for a woman of my age:



Now, what I'd really like are the shiny black pair, but that's not part of the new line (don't they look great, worn in, on the girl at Hay in the red jacket?)



These are my choices:



Interesting about the word, dilemma, by the way. (Well, interesting to me, as I sit it out with the cat inside while waiting for this torrential rain storm to stop). According to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dilemma, A dilemma (Greek: δί-λημμα "double proposition") is a problem offering at least two possibilities, neither of which is practically acceptable. One in this position has been traditionally described as "being on the horns of a dilemma", neither horn being comfortable, "between Scylla and Charybdis"; or "being between a rock and a hard place", since both objects or metaphorical choices are rough.

Now, while I like the brown paisley, I can't get Daisy's words out of my head. And I don't know if hot pink or bright blue are too.. bright. So I'm kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The black isn't really black - Roxanne said it's a dark grey. And while I love shiny black with hot pink, I'm not sure about grey. I am spending WAAAAAY too much time on this decision - and I really need to be writing - so I am posing it to you, Reader. Please. Help. Sway. My. Vote.

hay, sophie!

When I first met Sophie, at the Hay Festival, we were both rushing to or from events (I was actually rushing to the loo queue) so I snapped her quickly on the green walkway between tents, told her my name, and rushed to the loos wishing I'd had more time to ask her questions.



Then when I got to the loos - and I love the serendipity of this, because either of us could have gone to the ones in the other direction - I heard a voice say 'I love what you're wearing, too.' It was Sophie! 'I guess you have to dress stylish' (i.e., my blog). Actually, I forget what I was wearing that day, but she was really kind to say I had nice style. And she's just really lovely - and I truly felt she was the star of the festival! I wish I could have seen her another day - she was visiting her mom (she's American, but her mom lives in England) so maybe she was just there the one day.



I then tried to shoot her near the loos, against the white background of a tent, but the light was so harsh. She was being really patient, posing calmly, and said her boyfriend, Tor, is a photographer, so she's used, I guess, to being his muse. She's a nutritionist, and we got into a little chat about how we are what we eat, and I wish we could have talked longer, because she's absolutely lovely. I think she's back home now, in Portland, Oregon, but she's definitely someone I want to stay in touch with. Isn't she such a star?