Just coasting

Bicester Village used to be a rare treat, but now it is 10 minutes away, I haven't visited since the Summer of last year.  Snow restricting travel, I thought the parking and restaurants might be bearable last week.
There, I rediscovered a brand that I had always worn in my plumper days; Coast.  I have been walking past without pausing, anxious about memories of squeezing into size 16s (and the sizing is generous at Coast).  But that ghost is resting and I decided to go in, afterall, if Coast can produce simple clothes that flatter a larger size, may be they can work on my new frame.  It was this train of thought, combined with the last chance saloon signs screaming, '90% off', that enticed me across the threshold.  And it was not disappointing, Bicester can often host a 'flash sale' sale second to none, I picked up corset tops, skirts and dresses all black and neutral duchesse satin and silk chiffon ranging from £5-£20.

The sage green wouldn't be a colour I would pick at first, but my skin has green hues and this tone will look a little Alberta Ferretti with a tan.  The cut reminded me of this ad, it just needs a little work, slightly shorter and the fabric used to create 'off the shoulder' sleeves.

I spotted this beautiful french blue skirt, it really does me no favours at all, but I just love the colour.  It will need quite a lot of remodelling, and the results will be seen soon, my inspiration will come from these old Chloe ads.

Finally I picked up this fantastic evening dress

With a little work, I am hoping to end up with something more like...

Champagne at the Savoy

Life has been eventful over the last few days, many have passed in a drunken haze with nights fuelled by alcohol and giggles, starting on Saturday night at the newly refurbished Savoy.
The cynical part of me wanted to find fault with the results of a £220 million overhaul, but walking into the atrium I did have that magical moment that is difficult to define.  This place was at once classic, modern, interesting and beautiful, there is a lot to see and I know it will offer a good time.  Just like Marilyn at the Savoy first time around....

The shops in the atrium were inviting and there was a lot that I wanted to photograph, I had every intention of limiting my alcohol intake so that I could capture some of the beauty, plus my shoes are tricky at the best of times...

The dress is by Lungta de Fancy, a new London label, prices are reasonable, and the collection is modern and youthful but wearable. The dress was perfect for the Beaufort bar, which demands an outfit to live up to its opulence.

Unfortunately the road to hideous hangovers is paved with good intentions (and a number of cocktails and bottles of champagne)

And by the end of the evening, everything was looking like this, so I tottered to find a taxi.

Holiday booked

This is the walkway into heaven.  When I see this stretch of wooden pathway, I know that my holiday has begun.  Each year we wait with baited breath to see if our reservation confirms.  Accommodation at Club 55 in St Tropez is like a secret sect and any sort of misbehaviour, however unintentional could result in a polite but firm 'Non'.
The cabinons are situated in a hidden location behind the beach, they offer the best of all worlds, the serenity of waves lapping the shore in the early morning, the madness and the buzz of celebrities and the beautiful crowd from 10-7 and peace and quiet in the evening.  Best of all, two weeks of barefoot living and no requirement to get anywhere near the gridlocked roads.

It may not be until July, but our fax has arrived and just to know we are going is enough.

 This is the morning before the boats arrive.

This is an example of last year's 'office bottom'. Cellulite and wider than my hips, I shall keep looking at this to keep on the straight and narrow with the gym routine.

Our favourite evening restaurant, just a stroll along the beach.


I can't wait!

Spa Day at the Mandarin Oriental

I have to confess that I am not a big fan of the really large London hotels, I find them impersonal and characterless.  Moreover I always get a little anxiety attack, that a lone female can only be there on business (and not the kind that requires smart suits and laptops) and so I scuttle through the foyer trying not to attract any attention.

The Mandarin Oriental, located opposite Harvey Nichols on Knightsbridge is such a hotel.  It's best feature is the view from the back which overlooks Hyde Park, an oasis in the heart of the city.

I had images of a spa that maximised the potential of the park views and combined the close to nature and indulgent spa luxury that the French do so well.  Instead, it was the standard underground/ oriental style afterthought with extortionate prices due to the Knightsbridge location.

 When I arrived I was given a cleansing tea and a locker which contained towels and a robe.  I had 40 minutes to enjoy the water experience which was really just a large jacuzzi with jets that rotated on a timer.

This Zen design is very calming, sensory stimulation is reduced (ie there's not much to look at), but the downside, when you are lurking in the same place for 40 minutes, is that you start to notice every little detail of wear and tear.

There were some nice touches like sewing, shaving and dental kits and any toiletries that might be required.
The treatments were lovely and the therapist was the perfect combination of friendly and kind, without feeling any requirement to chat about summer holidays in the 2 hour session.  The full body massage was well executed and she instinctively identified areas where I am tense (around my shoulders and jaw line).
The facial was Aromatherapy Associates, I liked the interchange between temperatures and textures and my skin felt like it was glowing by the end.  The relaxation room was particularly drab so I just drank my tea, ate a little fruit and then went back into the spa area, which was warmer and felt less like God's waiting room.

All in all, it was a pleasant way to spend a Sunday morning on a cold, snowy day. But for anyone looking for a really special (expensive!) spa experience, I don't think that this would be top of their list.

The anatomy of desire

I love a bit of fantasy in my fashion and have always adored this image of Manolos on a country walk.  It is the juxtaposition and the complete impracticality that apppeals to me.  I am not sure to which era these shoes belong, but I have a feeling that it was when I started appreciating the beauty of a perfectly executed photographic fashion story and realised that really good editorial could be on a par with the fine art of old. It shouldn't just be considered as a shopping guide, some things are just beautiful and that is enough.
Whilst searching for this picture, I came across these on sale in a US second hand designer store...

They are indeed the very same, and they are my size, it must be fate.
My heart skipped a beat and I knew I had to had them.
Not long ago I would have bought them without hesitation, but with my more limited budget and time to think, they made me consider brands, marketing and the premiums that we place on some items (particularly luxury goods).
The desire to own these shoes did not stem from having the perfect outfit or event to which to wear them, rather it was about possession pure and simple. If I'm honest I can't really ever envisage actually wearing them.
For me, in a similar way to how (some!) modern art can bypass reason and appeal to the senses, these shoes appealed directly to a part of me that had been locked away and was long forgotten.  They represent a zeitgeist that I can't specifically recall, but I know it was positive and pleasant and made me smile.
I have friends who have worked in PR, but find it very difficult to quantify the value that they add to the marketing of products.  And I think that my reaction to these shoes probably sums up the essence of successful PR; if you can make something part of a moment in time through its editorial coverage that brand or item becomes part of the fabric of our history and experience of life and its appeal will be longer lasting than any advertising campaign can ever achieve.
And so I am still debating the purchase of the shoes, I will make an offer but if the offer is not accepted, I will whip out some silk foliage and an old pair of flip flops and endeavour to make my own!  Afterall not all desires should be fulfilled all of the time.

Snow Fairy

Throughout the afternoon I watched them there,
Snow-fairies falling, falling from the sky,
Whirling fantastic in the misty air,
Contending fierce for space supremacy.
And they flew down a mightier force at night,
As though in heaven there was revolt and riot,
And they, frail things had taken panic flight
Down to the calm earth seeking peace and quiet.
I went to bed and rose at early dawn
To see them huddled together in a heap,
Each merged into the other upon the lawn,
Worn out by the sharp struggle, fast asleep.
The sun shone brightly on them half the day,
By night they stealthily had stol'n away.

 Claude McKay was born in Jamaica, he was educated by his older brother, who owned a handful of books, he went to the United States where he used poetry to record the injustices of black life in America.
This is one of my favourite pieces of writing about the snow, may be it takes a West Indies climate to appreciate the beauty and the sadness of it.

This weekend I was in the town and country and the scenery was equally beautiful in both.

The a sprinkling of snow is the perfect finishing touch to white London town houses, which always remind me of perfectly iced cakes.

Can a fat girl slim?

Until the age of 25, I was fat, gargantuan, over six feet tall in heels with a cup size that flowed over an E cup and into an F and beyond.  At 15 stone, I tried every diet over a decade; the Cambrige Diet, Slim Fast, Cabbage Soup, the Palm Beach Diet, the French Stick diet, the Jockey Diet, Herbalife, the Carrot Diet, the Eat Your Fill Toffees (pure Harry Potter, eat two magic toffees and you will be unable to eat your meal).  The list goes on and on.
These diets all shared a similar pattern; a couple of days success because of that illusive promise of magical weightloss, a couple of days of youthful determination overcoming the hunger pains, a couple of days of maintenance as the intitial water and muscle loss showed on the scales.  And then by the end of the week, disaster, and a ravenous hunger that overtook all reason so that in 30 minutes flat I could eat everything in the fridge/bread bin/ biscuit tin.
By my twenties life was more interesting and food lost its mystique, I ate very little and exercised daily, but my weight stuck resolutely around 11 stone.
In my 30s  I ate more, better quality food, stopped the exercise and my weight maintained a range of 10- 10 and a half stone.
In my forties my life has changed completely and I have both the time and inclination to focus on getting into the best possible shape.  It has been an interesting learning experience and to date fairly successful.
I started by building up a proper, structured fitness routine; Monday-Friday work outs a mix of weights, aerobic, stretch, core training, tennis and swimming.  I do a mix of these for a minimum of one hour each day and if possible at least twice a week two hours.
Initially my muscles were exhausted after years of inactivity and the only way that it was maintainable was by alternating aerobic/muscle building days with stretch days.
This has completely changed my body shape, in my twenties, when I did exercise, I had bulky legs and shoulders, a thick waist and fat on my torso regardless of the hours and hours that I put in on the aerobics floor. By focusing on the stretch as well as the strength training I have a longer waist, less body fat and less bulk around my back and shoulders.
I have lost around a stone and a half without feeling any deprivation or hunger.  My jeans are getting looser, although the scales are starting to go up, but I am not really interested in the weight other than as a general guide.  My diet it quite specific, but this is going on a bit so more later.

Some celebs who you could never imagine getting fat.....


Michelle Pfeiffer is still beautiful, that bone structure....

Spot the Dior...

Do you remember the first few collections that John Galliano did for Dior?  He created some of the most beautiful couture gowns that I have ever seen.  From the mid 2000s the collections started to get a little more surreal and then there was the public fall from grace.  These early dresses weren't just beautiful, they were also completely wearable.  I wonder if Amanda Harlech had more influence than anyone ever credited her for.
My budget has never stretched to couture, but I did buy a couple of pieces from the ready to wear collections and the detailing almost raises them  to a couture level.

Spot which of the blue jackets was the original Dior,a friend had it copied in Thailand for me as the very wide pockets were sometimes a little unwearable for every day (answer below).  I was going to sell some of these bits on ebay, but after looking around the boutiques at the offering for SS12, there is nothing that compares with the quality and the workmanship.

(answer the one on right is Dior)

country couture

Country interiors can be tricky to get right.  The more relaxed pace of country living often invites an abode to become a dumping ground for unwanted bits and pieces from elsewhere so that the style is a higgeldy piggeldy mix of everyone's cast offs.
I have always preferred a simple chalky white look, maintaining as much of the original as possible but combining it with modern touches.  There must be light, heat and hot water at the touch of a button.  So many Brits are still happy living in draughty mausoleums relying on their dogs and layers of dust for warmth.  They wear their fortitude as a badge of honour and see central heating as a weakness of the feeble in body and spirit.

The puritanical style that I have adopted has remained unchallenged until I saw this beautiful table cloth for sale at a local shop.  It is antique French linen and the embroidery has been done a lady who lives a few cottages away from me.
She embroiders for the love of it, and a piece is only finished when it is perfect.  She does not labour to get the best price for her work, rather it is the love of creating beauty that drives her.
She has no idea how many hours of work goes into each one, but each is given as long as is required for it to be ready to leave her.  Whatever your personal style, how can you not love this?

The photos simply do not do it justice.  I paid the princely sum of £50.

Each time I look at it it I find different details to love, it just lifts my spirits.

spa demons

Melania Trump is my secret crush, just when I think that nobody could be more vacuous, she reveals hidden shallows, despite this, I am hopelessly fascinated by her.  Possibly it is because I do not envy the lifestyle in any way; all that gold leaf, fake louis XIV and all that Donald Trump.  But we love a Cinderella story and Melania certainly fits the paradigm.  I applaud anyone who can live their life with total conviction.  My life is a daily dither, questioning every tiny detail of everything that I do.  But Melania is very clear about her goals and aspirations and is 100% sure of every choice she makes. Her Youtube appearances chatting about her hideous (although my 8 year-old-magpie-eyed inner self secretly would wear the diamonte and turquoise inspired by Versailles) jewellery range are quite something to behold.  Her comments about New York, Palm Beach and Paris being the only places in the world, pretty much says it all.
This picture is shot at the Ritz spa in Paris, it is how I aspire to look on a spa day, relaxed, happy and relishing all that pampering.
I have never been a good spa goer, I have perservered, but have succeeded in a grand total of two facials and three manicures in my life. I once had a massage but left half way through as the therapist said she could feel me getting tenser as the minutes ticked by.  It is the time to think, my mind whirrs and all I can think about is getting out to make a start on whatever plan I have hatched.  As for the manicures, the first coat was like torture and the prospect of a second one too much to bear.
And so as part of my new regime of slowing down and savouring life, I have a few spa days booked with friends in order to overcome my bete noir.
I have invested in some suitable attire, namely an orange one piece (I am taking no risks on getting any of this wrong), which was tougher to track down than would be imagined. I found one, it was a size 14, and the size snob in me wanted to send it back, but actually it fits like a glove.  These are before and after shots of my fake tanning, there is trickery with the light since it is am and pm, but it does show the tan quite well.  I look a little more two weeks in the Caribbean than a weekend in St Tropez.

I am trying out a new formula for a friend of mine who is slightly altering his range, it gives a great colour and smells sublime, quite heady like an expensive fragrance from Caron or Fragonard.  I love it but am not sure about how much mass appeal it will have.

Apparently Gisele Bundchen uses the current formulation and she positively glows so this is one treatment that I will keep up.