GLAMOUR 2

Week two at Glamour considerably outshone week one. With a full shooting schedule back on after the fashion week dust finally settled, the cupboard transformed from semi-methodical, quasi-organized sartorial garage to a bigger, (much much) better version of my own closet. Which means exploding and the need for scuba gear. Do you remember the scene in the Titanic when the ship starts to go and one solitary rivet caving under the pressure ushers in the uninhibited bounds of the Atlantic, sending the ship to its doom? Well, it was kind of like that-- ready to blow at any moment, except the straw that would have broken the camel's back was more of enormous black organza Ferretti cupcake than iceberg.

Aside from the vast improvement in the cupboard's contents, along with it came a slew of swishier tasks...including helping out on a D&G photoshoot and squeezing myself into a crinoline cum origami windsock Westwood number, which, when hanging on the rail and compared to the runway snapshot, made absolutely no sense. So the fashion assistant stuffed me into it to figure out how exactly it worked...couldn't show up to the shoot in NYC without a clue as to how the Westwood monstrosity worked. Afterall, they were to shoot one of my fav celebs du jour for the July cover. As for who she is, that's one secret I'll never tell.

xoxo

Sabina's fashion apple. That photo was spontaneous, I swear. This is what happens when you live, breathe (and eat) fashion all day long.

Piles of returns. Doesn't it look like such fun?

A-mazing boots.

Doing some research up at Vogue House

Polly want a Swarovski encrusted court shoe?

L is for the way you Louboutin at me...

All good things must come to an end. Say goodbye to them Sabina, I know it breaks your heart...We've all been there. I nearly burst into tears when I sealed those LV Spicy African FACE MASK sandals in their return bag. Why is life so unfair?

On the threshold of the mystical, magical shoe-room of Sergio Rossi.

Studio, bright and early. Shooting pre-fall D&G collection to make up for the fact that they didn't get so much space in the magazine's London issue. Whoever says fashion and politics don't mix has never set a pristinely manicured foot in Conde Nast.

Rachel, one of the models, enjoys a serene spiritual moment meditating in between shots. She was a cool girl, just came back from 6 months in India practicing yoga. And she smokes. Excellent.

Rocking out to Beyonce's Crazy in Love, Suzanna (girl stage right) suddenly was failed by her insoles and crashed to the ground. Bit of a scary moment. There was blood, but when isn't there in this business? The Dolce show must go on!

The Clothes Whisperer has left the building. Next stop: VOGUE!

More more more!

You'd think that after spending all week squatting on the floor in the back of the Glamour cupboard, surrounded by an infinitely deep mountain of clothes and endless racks--essentially eating, sleeping and breathing nothing but fashion, come the weekend, I'd flee as far away from the recesses of retail as humanly possible and, I don't know, read a book or something. Are you sure it was a book? Are you sure it wasn't shopping?

It was.

Though I truly endeavored to modestly pass my Saturday catching up on all the annoying necessary nuances of adult life (bills, cleaning, work, the like), the continued prevelance of sunny weather inevitably (ok, around 11am) lured me from the safety of my flat onto the street, the High Street, to be specific. It's like the opposite of rehab: the more time you spend around other fashion addicts and with the clothes themselves--specifically the best of the best of this season's ready to wear--at the first chance you get, you loose all resolve and scramble desperately to bulldoze into Topshop, scoop up the delectibles by the armful...just so that you know these goodies, unlike that heavily beaded full length chiffon Versace gown you've been drooling over at work all week, don't have to get shoved into a Glamour plastic bag and returned to their respective PR hubs. Now the amazing rhinestone Louboutins are here, in your hand. Now they're gone, back to the oblivion of the amazing and unaffordable, accessible only months later when that issue of the magazine comes out. Heartbreaking.

Obvioulsy, any wannabe recessionista who works in a cupboard must strive to combat this feeling on the weekend...to take the power into your own hands and take the goods home with you. The downside being, of course, that drooling PRs don't jump at your every request and frantically bike over bags exploding with D&G's pre-fall collection... you have to pay. But where's the fun in slaving over somebody else's closet all week long if you can't pamper your own at the weekend?



Stop #1: All Saints

Big fan of this "Fall of Man" tee-shirt. I don't know if it's McQueen or just the ever faster tick of the doomsday clock, but I'm really feeling the skeletons right now. Bones are so the new polka dots. This tee is super soft, it looks great over slick look leggings, acid wash jeans, my oversized Burberry blazer...you get the picture. Basically the editorial stylist uniform functions thus: one such t-shirt, leggings, oversized black blazer, ankle boots. Check, check, check.

I really liked this print, it came in three different styles...but I couldn't really get any of them to work for me. This one being the best of the three, although I kind of felt like the witch in Hansel and Gretel with those boots on....All Saint or All Witch?

The print is really lovely though...

Parachute dress: so many tucks, folds and ropes...couldn't figure out where anything went. It's like All Saints tried to replicate a Westwood pattern on narcotics. Wait...aren't Westwood designs laced with narcotics anyway? And isn't that why we love them?

Stop #2: Zara


Cool bootie/sandals in suede. They clomp like a horse when I walk, but the slouchy is great, the color fab...I haven't taken them off since Satruday. Except for yesterday. When it rained.

Fab new jacket, for only £59! Silk, just the right amount of drape, the stripes look amazing over most prints. When it gets warmer, I plan to throw on over a little neon oragnge boob tube from American Apparel. And by "gets warmer" I mean, "when my stomach gets flatter." This jacket was a hit though, it got the nod from one of the style editors yesterday at work. Count it!

Gathered bubble shorts. Had a pair just like this from Cathering Malandrino two years ago...they were the unfortunate sacrificial victims of a bad breakup, so, when I saw these bad boys, I knew...the Malandrinos had, in one way or another, come back to me.

I don't think I will ever tire of buying plain white oversized shirts. I really wanted this to be long enough to wear as a dress, but unfortunately, my ass had other plans. Namely, not remaining covered by said shirt. Still a good purchase.

Great faux python shoes--a paltry attempt at knocking off the Madonna wonders at LV (below), but for £79 versus £790, I'd take em. Forr whatever reason, I always find Zara heels surprisingly easy to walk in. Damn the Spanish and their solid shoemaking skills. I mean, the impracticality of tapas and midnight dinner-times aside, they did spawn Mr. Manolo after all.

G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S

Mixing and matching the bits

Amazing python print sequined loose fitting shift. Yesterday, one just like it from Matthew Williamson (shape, concept, not python print though) came into the office. Definitely a winner. Styling possibilities are endless with this piece, it can be accessorize a million ways. Dress up down and good for year round. Not to mention it looked oh so MJ SS09 when teamed with faux LV heels and striped blazer. Maybe that's because I just threw together a bunch of random, busy bits. But whatever, that's why Marc's a genius, he can make a mess--even my mess--look cool.

NB Zara is really on the money right now, I wouldn't go in if your resolve or bank balance is weak. Resistance is pretty much futile.

GLAMOUR 1

Oh the intern glory days. Long hours spent huddling in close quarters with clothes, shoes, bags and other interns alike in the recesses of the fashion vaults of magazinedom. Filing returns, packing and unpacking endless deliveries of gowns so beautiful they bring a tear to your eye just to later shove them hurridly into huge vacuous suitcases to be whisked off to shoot locations as if they were hoards of dirty laundry to be dropped at the dry cleaners instead of £10,000 designer gowns. The hours are rather long, the tasks almost always a tad on the tedious and painstaking side: such is the reality of the bottom rung of the glittering fashion world. A far cry from the inner closet antics of Lauren and Whitney at Teen Vogue, but that's not to say that the reality of glamour behind closed doors isn't, in fact, all that glamorous. Because, for anyone who keeps fashion in their heart all the year round, despite the tedium of fashion manual labor, it still is.

It's really about the clothes, afterall. And the shoes. And the jewellery...Rail after rail exploding with the best of the best of SS09, catwalk magic come to life before my very eyes...it's like meeting celebrities in person. The stunning silver bugle beaded cut out evening gown which when it glided effortlessly down the runway last September earned a gasp from Joley Richardson in the front row, right there, before my eyes, for me to touch...and as the gown continued to break hanger after hanger with its massive beaded bulk, I suddenly found myself thinking about the runway model who had made this armour like dress glide down the runway as if she were sporting a lightweight silk kaftan in a whole new light.

Cupboard contents aside, it's watching the fashion editors/assistants/et al at work that's the true prize of landing just such an internship. All week we've been preparing for a cover shoot in NYC with a certain mega pop star (who shall remain nameless due to the fact that blacklisting from Conde Nast is not something to which I aspire in the slightest) and it's when the fashion editor ascends from the editorial floor to edit the racks containing myriads of looks--and two entirely concept stories--that the real learning begins. "She would never wear this...this chunky knit sweater will not be kind to her shape even though it's a stunning piece...in one shot she'll be lying on a bed and this YSL tuxedo coat won't shoot well from that angle..."

Every detail is thought of, no stitch or embellishment unturned, down to the hundreds of pairs of underwear, bras, tights etc we had to call in. Attention to detail, meticulousness is the name of the styling game. It's truly impressive. So as the editors, assistant editors, their assistants and their assistants' PAs head to Heathrow this morning to pop on over to my home town for the shoot on Monday, I can only imagine how their vision will come to fruition...But I can tell you this: given what I've seen and what I've heard, the June issue of UK Glamour will be a good one.

Outside the Bond Street office

Long term interns Emma and Katie hard at work

Fellow Glamour newcomer, Sabina

Her truly fab ASH platform trainers

Glam intern goddesses

Californication

A shockingly warm temperature (climate change: plus one!), a visit from an old friend from the main-USA-land and plenty abuzz in Londontown since the Parisian fashion frenzy dispersed on Friday, good tidings were in the air for a fabulous weekend. Finally, since Marc Jacobs sent that first vamped model engulfed by enormous hot pink shoulder pads down the runway almost exactly one month ago, a stress free Saturday, with everyone sore-heeled and back on their respective continents.

First a mandatory tour of the highlights of Portobello market to introduce my California born and bred college days sister in crime to the wonders of London vintage and, of course, to investigate the latest juicy tidbits from my regular queens of vintage, Sam and Jody and Sherry. Festivities kicked off in Shoreditch later that night, new acquisitions were out in full force, meeting with great success and good times were had by all.


Portobello Market, Stop #1: Sam



This week Sam had particularly good bits. A new stash of clunky gold charm bracelets (pictured above), a new stash of great rings and a few special Victorian curiosities...

Art Deco Italian glass wilting floral broaches...very reminiscent of Marni' s acrylic "winter" floral costume jewellery series this fall. Has Consuelo perhaps paid a little visit to Sam one wonders?

One of my favorites, which made it home with me. A Victorian coin holder, complete with original felt liner and spring for popping change in and out! It's a locket, so I plan it put it on some ribbon--black satin perhaps--and wear as a pendant layered with some other chains.

Sam herself models a fabulous pendant

Candice found a gorgeous 60s citrine ring, £180 because it was such an intricate and unique cut and also set in 24 karat gold!

Cool arm thing, 70s knock off or so from 1920s style. Pretty cool.

Portobello Market, Stop #2: Decadent Vintage (Jody and Sherry)

Recent acquisitions from Jody's trip to Mexico

This dress was so fabulous, if it didn't been so freezing, I would have tried it on and most likely purchased it. 1970's super super soft linen, very low square cut in the back. Foiled by another frigid London afternoon yet again!



Candice found this gorgeous 50s couture crepe evening dress. It fit her perfectly, the detailing on the dress was absolutely stunning. It's very reminiscent of a Prada dress I picked up at a sample sale for about four times the price (and mind you, that was 50% off!). I just had to shell out for that LBD because it was just so classic and well made--that and two bags, four pairs of shoes and um...let's just say that was a dark day for my wallet. This is why I stay away when I'm short of cash; at Jody's you always find that perfect one of a kind spookily straight off the runway-esque dress that was just made for you. Exhibit A:



Pucci-esque print 80s dress. Had cute buttons, but I'm not ready to embrace that kind of resortwear just yet--no time for a trip, can't be buying dresses for Corfu.


Another home run for Candice. The styling possibilities with this dress are endless...boots and a chunky cardi in the fall, big plastic yellow or red jewellery/a belt and a denim jacket or natural leather gladiators teamed with slouchy hobo bag and big sunglasses...I could go on.

Another shopper. She looked so fab in everything she tried on. Maybe it was those little boots or her great jeans, but I just had to take her picture.

Jody accessorizes Candice

And another customer...busy busy. I love how both she and Sherry are always completely clad head to toe in vintage fur. They're me and my mom's style soul sisters.

How sweet is she?

Ding ding ding! Jackpot! I scored two amazing pieces: a stamped YSL scarf and quilted black Chanel purse with tassles! Yes, tassles. A month or so ago, when my mom was visiting, she talked me out of a very similar one in white. I've regretted it ever since. It's like, they're haunting me, knock-offs popping up in massive displays at Topshop and taking to the streets! Even worse, the real ones have reappeared on the laps of credit crunch-proof society ladies who lunch! So when I saw this bad boy, I wasn't about to make the same mistake. Neither piece has left my physical person since. You could call me a very happy bunny.

Can I just say: I am SO happy the early 90s/late 80s are back. That sweatshirt's so awesome it would have raised complete anarchy amongst the girls of my second grade class. Until someone got one featuring My Little Pony.

50s couture evening gown. Kind of reminds me of a choral version of Vera Ellen's dress in the nightclub scene at the beginning of White Christmas. I've always loved that dress.

Look at that draping at the neck, the gathering of fabric at the waist and the billowing of the sleeves. This dress was made for dancing, it flows beautifully. And the color was all over the A/W catwalks, weirdly enough.

Broach detail at the shoulder

Shoreditch Anonymous

So post Portobello and requisite apres market down time, we buckled down and headed across town for a night out with friends in Shoreditch. As always seems to happen whenever I venture that far east, I end up getting miserably lost and prattling up and down Old Street freezing in my heels desperately trying to get the GPS on my iPhone to kick in. But in this case, our semi-aimless wanderings weren't without good reason; the evening's event was to be a showcase concert of bands (whose names I didn't catch) in an unmarked and unamed location. Yep, we're that cool. All I know is that there were big bottles of beer for £3, a mysterious kettle sitting on a counter beneath a suspicious and very badly handwritten sign saying SOUP. But the music was actually pretty good.

Later in the evening, BBert reveals his latest jewellery creation: the fur stuffed kitsch apple.

Half fur, half apple, either way, wearing it every day will probably keep the doctor away.

BBert then tries to eat his own creation, the light making it look like his inner fashion spirit is about to bust out of its mortal Dior Homme bound cage and feast on applefur.

Gieves & Hawkes vintage bowler hat: courtesy BBert