xmas madness

It's been ages since I've blogged. Only one excuse for that. I've been working too damn hard. Lots of shopping this weekend and this week if I'm honest. Women spend over 200 hours of their life Christmas shopping, but I'm sure I've done more then that already.

Love the new Nicole Richie mugshot. If that's what vicodin looks like, I want some.

Casino Royale

Went to see Casino Royale last night with the bf. What can I say? Daniel Craig does not disappoint. He is one yummy yummy screw. Kudos to the design team and Lindy Hemming in particular. The costumes were fabulous. I guess it can't hurt that every status/prestige product is clamouring for placement in a Bond flick. They were certainly spoiled for choice. What I admired most, however, is the restraint shown in putting everything together. Every costume, every moment, looked fabulous. It might have been OTT but it worked, suiting the actor, the situation and the screen. Judi Dench might be a woman of a certain age, but I found myself coveting the quirky but beautiful diamond earrings she wore in her first scene with Bond. That said, it was the dress worn by Caterina Murino that really stole the show. Forget fuck-me shoes. This is the do-me dress. Muy caliente! Or, seeing as Murino is Italian, Ciao Bella!

Big Bags

Bags of Freedom or a Heavy Burden?| Tamara Kaminsky
Times Online, 15 November 2006

On the train this morning, I turned eagerly to the feature story in today's T2 but was soon disappointed. Looking at all the sad and tragic little stargirls carrying purses that could double as body bags for their mini frames, I realized that the vast-bag has had its moment. I don't care anymore. I want something small, stylish and light as air. No room for my shopping, my dog or my vitamins. Just keys, mobile and lipstick. Miuccia, please grant my wish.

Shuts Down Intermittently

I very nearly had a Denise Richards moment the other day. When I first start up my MacBook, it switches off. Usually, I can cope with this but today I was doing some field research and needed to make an urgent entry. No dice: switch on, switch off. Switch on, switch off. I very nearly hurled it over the paraphet until I realized that's what washed up Baywatch actresses do, not princesses. Finally, Apple has come up with a fix.

Perfection

Update: And now on her way to reading social and political history at King's this fall. Kudos.

Dove

Don't like the products, but I admire the team behind this campaign. Isn't it great when commercials get all adbustery? Isn't it nice how they've been able to shuck their past (does anyone remember the old ads, pitting mothers against daughters for a man's approbation?), and reinvent themselves as a friend of feminism. Dove soap sucks. It may have one-quarter moisturizing cream, but it leaves a stubborn scum on the bathroom tiles, which makes the maid's job even harder. So I switched to another soap just for her. And do you know why? Because she is worth it.

Have a fabulous day, kids.

Rate My Bra

Storm in a Royal D-cup | Rebecca Newman
The Telegraph, 25 October
The Queen gets her custom-made undies from Rigby & Peller. Camilla favours Marks & Spencer. So which is more deserving of the royal seal-of-approval?
Full Article

Best Idea Ever!

Cashless cappuccino as coffee shop introduces the pre-pay caffeine fix | Martin Hickman, Consumer Affairs Correspondent
The Independent, 19 October 2006

A café chain is launching a coffee card so customers can pay for their shot of caffeine without having to fumble for change at busy times.
Full Article

Mid-Season Sales Slump

Everywhere on the high street it's all about the mid season sale. I stopped in at my local Whistles (up to 50% off sale now on) but after making a desultory loop around the shop I walked out. The sun's shining and it's a beautiful day. I'd much rather spend my lunch hour sitting in the park.

Major agg this morning: the wrong paper was delivered. I was disgusted to find The Daily Express on the matt. Heather and Paul are still fighting apparently.

Aquascutum Spring 2007

Photo by Giovanni Giannoni, WWD

Aquascutum Spring 07

The reviews are mixed for Michael Herz and Graeme Fidler's spring collection. While previous collections had inspired countless high street knockoffs, this season's offering is said to lack coherence and focus. Comparisons with Britain's other purveryor of rainwear heritage brand Burberry continue. While the fashionistas may not be convinced, I think the collection translates the 80's influence for today, making it fresh and wearable.

SJP Gets No Love From Nirpal Dhaliwal

Ranking at number 29 in a recent celebrity poll, Times writer Nirpal Dhaliwal exposes the other ugly side of Sarah Jessica Parker. A brilliant piece. Straight men have always been impervious to Ms Parker's charms. I remember listening to my college friends debate the merits of SJP's character Carrie Bradshaw. My friend Wade sniped that she looked like a woman's idea of an attractive woman whereas one clever wag shot back that she was a gay man's idea of a hot chick. A silence fell over the group and the point was settled. Boys dig Charlotte but Carrie gets no love.

The Sunday Times | Celebrity: The Power 50 Part Two

She legitimised being a vapid, shoe-obsessed cretin, says Nirpal Dhaliwal

The only women who are uglier and more disgusting than models are those who aren’t but wish they were. Carrie Bradshaw — brought so vividly to life by SJP — epitomised these empty-headed klutzes and their desperation to conform to the junk middle-of-the-road lifestyle peddled in glossy magazines. Parading as hip metropolitan divas, they are, in fact, driven by the most mainstream and conservative preoccupations: fashion, diets and men.

Sex and the City began as a humdrum show about some whitebread squares trading stories about their boring yuppie lives. It soon evolved into what modern women want most: a reason to hate themselves. In the process, Parker played her part to the full. She got thinner, her outfits grew more expensive and glamorous and she became another strand in the web of self-loathing in which today’s women are entangled. She legitimised being a vapid, shoe-obsessed cretin for an entire generation. Posing as a kooky, self-deprecating slave to fashion, her character was, in fact, a narcissistic witch who flaunted her possessions with ruthless vigour.

Her bouncing self-confidence was flabbergasting. Her irrepressible zest and nitwit smile beamed out the message: “I’m thin and I’m blonde, and I’m all that!” But, apart from Matthew Broderick, guys aren’t hot for bony, big-nosed, big-chinned girls. And that mole! Couldn’t she have skipped on a few designer frocks and had it fixed? Carrie always questioned why her relationships never lasted, but the answer stared right back at her whenever she looked in the mirror.

Thanks to Parker/Bradshaw, I can’t go to any bar without hearing moronic, bellini-bingeing wannabes brag about blowing the peanuts they earn in PR/media/retail on the latest stupid accessory. Men have been robbed of sexy, interesting women. And SJP carries a big chunk of the blame.

A Grey Day for Fashion

The Times October 13, 2006
Women revolt over a grey fashion dilemma | By Nicola Woolcock


SHOPPERS have been turned off by a sea of grey clothing ranges and are shunning high street fashion chains, retail analysts said yesterday.
Full Article

Vogue touts grey as "the designers' shade of choice", describing it as: "restrained, chic, edgy - its subtleties allow for eclectic interpretation, whether sharp as steel in silk or soft in jersey knits".

And Would the Gentleman Like to See Something in a Glory Hour?

Last week while in bed with the bf, we did a little web surfing. Not porn, but shoes. I was feeling the agony of defeat after having spent the day, sans taxis, in high heels. We decided it was time I found something sensible so we looked on to that well-known purveyor of sensible shoes Clarks. I found a few lovely items in the lesbian bus driver range, but the men's section is where we struck gold.

The shoes are as nasty as your creepy uncle with wandering hands and have names like Hour, Month, Star, Year, Trip--all prefixed with the spangly sounding glory! Check out the Oliver Sweeney range if you dare. The man designs shoes like he wears a cup to breakfast. And by cup, I mean rugby box. Look at the lines of Trip or Sight and see if you don't get my meaning.

Stella McCartney New Show

I am loving the romper suit. Ms McCartney definitely has her mojo working this season. Look, love, want. The blue is great too. The shade feels very 80's to me but in the best possible way. What makes it fresh is its lightness. Matched with bare skin and minimal accessories the colour feels very now. Black or green would make it a costume.

My Mother, trendspotter

I'm home for a flying visit. Although I've been back for a few days, I am just getting over my jetlag. Wish Ambien wasn't so wickedly addictive; I really need some sleep. Yesterday, while I was looking for my runners in the closet, I came across a pair of Crocs. They're my mother's apparently, and she's been wearing them for yonks. She says they are perfect for gardening. Not everyone agrees though. I found this hilarious website today.

Premiere Week

I'm back in Americas and awfully excited that I'll be around for the Season Premieres of my two favourite shows, Desperate Housewives and Lost. Other than that I'm feeling hideously jetlagged.

Travel Restrictions

Major agg. I'm flying to the States on Sunday and am trying to sort out my hand luggage. The list of what's permissible is fairly clear. And, while I don't mind going without my make-up bag, it's going to be tough leaving my lip balm in the hold. Restrictions will be eased on Tuesday, which hopefully means all my fellow dry skin sufferers will be able to bring their lotions and potions on board.

This is, of course, a small price to pay for security and I am deeply grateful to everyone who helped foil the latest plot. I just get miserable when my lips crack.

Diet Doctors

I watched the diet doctors last night with the bf. It was truly horrific. The foot and mouth section was disgusting. Especially since the culprit in most cases was poor hygiene. Yes, how tedious, but drying between your toes and flossing your chompers does pay off.

The bf was pretty dismissive of the whole thing. He's much smarter than I am and kept questioning the scientific merit of their data. I don't have much to say about that, but I was slightly dubious of mackerel's merits as a cure-all.

New York Fashion Week

While flicking through celeb blogs yesterday, I came across this pic of Victoria Beckham at the Proenza Schouler show. What I love most about this pic, which I've shamelessly ripped off, is the blonde in the background. Although she's got her hand in front of her mouth, you can tell she is laughing her ass off at Vicky's get up. Priceless.

The slutty 12 year old in me loves this outfit, but I think it's one for the dress-up box not for going out. Poor Posh. Why can't we love her? She tries so hard.

Out of the Blue

Do you see me, my love. I am
flagging. Flagging.

I was moved to tears by Rufus Sewell's reading of Simon Armitage's poem. It was brilliant.

Nineties Nostalgia

Flipping through this month's fashion mags was enough to make me believe that Kurt Cobain was still alive, Courtney Love still had some shred of credibility and Billy Corgan might save rock 'n roll. (While the 80's and the 00's were all about fashion for me, the 90's will always be defined by the music.)

I am loving the boyfriend look, feeling slightly bemused to see starlets mixing vintage with billion dollar bags, and wondering if it's possible to do grunge the second time round. I've said no to leggings and sweater dresses, strictly because the memory of my 15 year old self strutting her stuff in footless tights and graphic prints is too painful to resurrect. As a woman of a certain age, I've always maintained it's important to draw a line under certain trends once one has had a go. That said, I don't think I'll be able to resist digging my dad's cardigan out of the closet, although I may not be wearing it with leggings this time round.

Mamasita

Why do I have babies on the brain? Maybe it's the pictures of SJP and son James published in this week's Grazia or the upcoming Suri-spread in Vanity Fair. After work today, I stopped off at my boyfriend's flat. In the courtyard, I ran into one of his neighbour's, a very hot new dad. He was watching his little girl carry a shopping bag in from the car. She was adorable, as was he. I know it's very sad, but I must confess that I've started checking out mums and kids at the shops, trying to gauge the age of the mothers to see if there's still time for me.

The bf let me watch "Supernanny" this evening. He loves it that I cry every damn time the mommy and daddy get their first apology and cuddle from the little hellions.

Tumi

As I am flying home soon, my thoughts have turned to luggage. I so want to upgrade my current set. Tumi is on my wishlist. I took a quick peek on the website at work today and liked what I saw. The women's travel section needs some work, but the technical specs and construction can't be beat.

Although I did plan to make the switch to Clarins last week, I unearthed a stash of Clinique in my closet. So I'll be working my way through that before making any skin care changes.

MAC

While on my way to work, I stumbled upon a new MAC concession, which is even closer to home. Hooray! To celebrate, I bought myself some sultry eyeshadow: Silver Ring. Tried to find a pink but was unsuccessful. The girl was so helpful, but everything looked too pearly or too chalky. I'm looking for a nice creamy pink with a touch of brown in it.

Dylan Hobo from Coach

The new Dylan hobo looks nice. I wish Coach offered better views on its website. I'd love to see the interior design of the bag. Will add this to the shopping list for my next Stateside visit.

Clarins

Big day today. I'm making the switch to Clarins. I've been a Clinique girl for years, but it's no longer right for my skin. I need to switch to something made for the European climate. Not loving the Gucci hobo, pictured, released for the house's 85th. It's a bit of a fashion travesty. Too much, to many references. I do, however, like the furry horsebit tote. And, yes, I know that's wrong.

Skinny Heel Bitch

You Are Skinny Heel Boots

You always look great - from your styled hair to your sleek boots.

What Kind of Boots Are You?

So three seasons ago but oddly sexy. Love the patent, but what can I say? I'm a sucker for reflective surfaces.

Rain

It's bucketing rain at the moment, which reminds me that I really need a new raincoat. Found this washed leather trench on net-a-porter. It's from Burberry Prorsum fall collection, and I like it very much.
Watching rain fall has always been a sensual experience. Strange. Perhaps it comes from a childhood spent in the arid deserts. One of the things I like most about my lovely boyfriend is that he always has a big umbrella close to hand on days like this. It makes the most delicious 'pop' when opened.

Pret

Lunch today is brought to us by the fine folks at Pret. Was feeling very 90's so I opted for the sushi. Also feeling greedy so I picked up a slice of their yummy carrot cake as well. Just visible in the background is my beloved leather tote, found in the States at ll bean of all places. It's perfect for weekends and casual days. Not only that, this capacious bag means I can take all my pieces with me wherever I go.

Speaking of bags, I've noticed a lot of people re-using 'prestige' carrier bags. For example, on my way to lunch today, I saw an orange and nasty girl, carrying a Chloe knockoff, also clutching an obviously battered orange and nasty Selfridges bag. And on the train platform last week, a corporate blonde was carrying an Asprey bag absolutely jammed with files. What is up with this? I'll admit that in the hinterland from whence the Shy Princess came it was a not uncommon to see women carrying their 'indoor' shoes in used plastic bags, admittedly from Wal-Mart, but I expected more from the men and women of London. Who cares that you once bought something on or near Bond Street. Get over it. And get your luggage under control.

Don't you just love my grotty desk. It's absolutely disgusting. Corporate headquarters is in a building that's not so much listed as listing. Character's nice, but I yearn for the clean comforts of a new build.

MHD

Taking a mental health day. Spent the morning trying on shoes. Feel restored.

Negotiations are underway for a trip to Venice. This is very good news. Venice rates much higher than Paris in terms of personal significance.

In other news, I have found the shoe for fall. Slightly kinky, ever so proper, yet wickedly sexy. All this for only £185 at Russel & Bromley. The boyfriend likes them too; however, he and I have different ideas about how they should be accessorized.

Lovely rainy day. Think we'll stay in and watch DVD's.

I want to get married. Up until 18 hours ago, I believed that my bastard of a boyfriend was planning to propose. It all started about a month ago when he asked me what apparently actually were a series of random questions about marriage and engagements. Then he suggested we go to Paris for the long weekend. Not incredibly sigificant in and of itself, but the wedding we were at this weekend began with a proposal in Paris.

Now everything is off. Paris is a no-go. Instead we're going to be spending the weekend with his sister and her family.

I am so mad I could cry.

I am in an absolutely foul mood. My feet are still in tatters after the weekend. We went to a wedding, which meant silly shoes. Unfortunately, I had to walk absolutely everywhere. Many nasty little bites on my legs. I'm not sure what devil insects breed in the swamps of Cambridge, but they're evil. Did a necessity shop at Tesco but couldn't find any anti-itch ointment.

The Times2 Fashion feature gladdened my heart this morning: lots of yummy products laid out in the centre spread. I went around, ticking off all the things I had or used. Luckily there's also a competition, so I may be able to lay my hands on everything! Much joy. I have never entered a draw, but I seem to remember there's a trick to it. Funny postcards and vibrant coloured ink are meant to be the key to success.

What I'd like most is the extra-large Mason Pearson hair brush. I have the small one, but I can't quite justify spending £61 on another hairbrush even if it is fabulous. Even my boyfriend likes to use it. In fact, he jokes about moving in together so he can use it whenever he wants!

Went for the chop earlier this week, now see that la Beckham has as well. I'm loving the short bob. It's much better in this heat.

Drank two full sugar cokes today and yesterday. Must stop. I'm turning into a Coca-Whale.

Coffee Republic feature in today's Business section caught my eye. Although I'm not surprised they're in trouble, I was interested to learn that founder Hashemi is credited with bringing the American coffee bar experience to the UK. Something seems to have been lost in translation.

I went into one last year for the first time. My usual first-choice Caffe Nero was too crowded. Although the interior of Coffee Republic ticked most of the Seattle boxes, something was not quite right. The track lighting bleached out the fixtures and threw the general mess and chaos into high relief. The clientele, despite the location's proximity to London, looked like a cross-section of Little Britain minus the laughs. What really set me off, however, were the multiple issues of The Daily Mail scattered about. While I'm no fan of Starbucks, at least they know how to layer a vibe. Rest in peace, Coffee Republic.

Am enjoying a lazy Sunday. I'm determined to finish Hester Browne's latest this afternoon!

The freeias I bought yesterday have opened up in the heat.

Not much on today. Was up ridiculously early (5.30) to catch a coach to nowhere. Am back now in the comfort of my boudoir. Have run a bath to wash off the heat and grime of the day.

Can anyone suggest a nice bath oil? I've tried almost everything on the shelves of the high street, but I'm still not satisfied. The more obscure and hard to find the better.

While reading the Times on the train this morning, I came across a rather appropriate article on shopping. times2 featured Judith Levine's new book Not Buying It about her year without shopping. It was harder then she thought, despite the fact that she considered herself a non-shopper. Levine recognizes that our society not only encourages but depends upon consumption.

I'm of two minds when it comes to shopping. The blog is meant to be fun, but I realize there is a dark side to shopping. At best it's a diversion, at worst it's an addition. But we use shopping to make ourselves happy too. As Levine writes, "Shopping defeats, or at least circumvents, boredom. But not only because it fills idle time. Consumption is an exercise in hope--hope for more happiness, more beauty, more status, more fun". Hope's a good thing, but we should be careful where we look for it. Kudos to Sarah Vine for another well written article.

So, what did I buy today? Not much . . .

morning: coffee and a muffin, £2.30
afternoon: food, flowers and wine, £13.90

p.s.

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(-.-)
(> <)

the rabbit rocks!!!

I thought I'd blog about stuff I love to buy and like to have around. Feel free to share your thoughts.

Enjoy!

Princess Shyness xx