Time on my hands: none. My poor camera hasn't been out to play at all lately.
But I found a chic little navy and white Pierre Cardin handbag this weekend, hidden in the unlikely corners of a tiny second-hand stall at Offset Festival. I will photograph it shortly. I love Pierre Cardin. My favourite pair of jeans ever were Cardin, a hand-me-down from my cousin, five years older than me. I grew out of them when I was fourteen though. It is sad that my jeans ownership peaked at such an age, but perhaps it is for the best. The cult of denim is something that mystifies and depresses me a little.
Tonight I am trying on some likely very colourful Terry de Havilland heels which I am being loaned for a party tomorrow. I get first pick out of a suitcase full of vintage TdCs. This is not something that happens very often, or indeed ever. We're hosting a dizzyingly colourful, queeny party for a stylist, with a catwalk show, two very famous ladies hosting and performing, and some NYC djs playing 'bitch-house'. Our lovely bar supervisor has gamely agreed to don a vintage 70s high-cut black & gold swimsuit and gold lurex tights for the occasion [and she carries it off, too]. Me, I'm sticking to the safety of this Mango/Osman Yousefzada dress with geometric tights and the most startling rings of blue kohl I can come up with. There will be hairdressers, and they will give me Veronica Lake hair. Maybe.
It's going to be a glorious day.
4 comments:
Sounds like uber fun!
Yeesh! It was exhausting! A kind photographer has said I might be able to show a couple of his photos...if so, they shall follow. It was quite a night.
Hey Just to let you know... I love your blog lol!! Xoxo
thank you!
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