game on

In light of the inspiring speech our President Obama just gave in Cairo urging us all towards world peace, and of a recent local conflict reported by Susie Bubble in her Hogg Roasted post, I'd like to take a stand against bullies of any kind, and that includes PR girls armed only with blackberries.
If there's gonna be a crackdown on photos taken on phones or cheap digital cameras in dressing rooms and then posted on one's own blogs, I am going to submit here, for anyone to see, a rather unflattering self portrait I took in Barcelona last year on a great weekend jaunt with a childhood friend, whilst in the dressing room at Zara. There's something about the angle against the mirror that makes me look like I'm a stripey lollipop in my third trimester, but that's not the point. Or maybe it is. This is just an experiment to see if one of my favourite all time global chains ever, Zara, will get on my case and shut me down. Or if anonymous strangers will tell me I look like crap. Either way, bring it on!

Update: Day two, and no word from Zara. I knew they were a cool brand!

meet the maddoffs

We were strolling thru the park and I noticed this couple - not, as you'd assume, because of the pattern of her top (I truly don't have a polka dot 'thing' - it's just a nickname) but because she was barefoot. I walk barefoot on the grass all the time but once I'm on Rotton Row, it's sandals back on.
So I asked to shoot them & they were cool about it, but when I asked where they were from, they just laughed mysteriously (they had those kind of foreign accents you hear in films: usually by British actors). So, this being England, I didn't want to pry.

As we walked off we couldn't help but speculate: is it an imigration issue? Witness protection program? Are they perhaps the Maddoffs, with a new identity? Did I say something that is very funny in their country? Or was something perhaps lost in translation?

my reincarnated hot pink plastic celebrity sandals

This just in: my new hot pink plastic celebrity sandals. Last week, my HPPCS broke for the 2nd time, and the Gorilla Glue wasn't holding. You might remember - if you've been reading my little bloggette as far back as early May, that when I was in Palm Beach women were going gaga for my cheap plastic sandals that I've been wearing for years. (story here). Well - call it divine intervention - last Thursday, when I was on a streetstyle shooting deadline (don't ask) and freezing, I stopped in for warmth, on a whim, to Next, on Oxford Street. There they were! About a dozen pair! My new ones are slightly different than their first incarnation: they've got a sparkly real diamond buckle and a kind of buckling effect on the soles which actually help the grip - so they're new & improved.
I was tempted to buy them all but told myself: no, Jill, only one per customer. EIGHT QUID. They're not online, or at least weren't when I checked.  You might have to hoof it over to your local branch. Today's only Wednesday, there's a chance there's a pair left, in your size. Provided, of course, your karma is good.