Whispered by
The Clothes Whisperer
Whispered by
The Clothes Whisperer
Hot dog in the country. This holiday season, in lieu of alpine or tropical getaway, little Butters and I put on our best behavior (not to mention our wellies) and trained it on down to the town of Totnes in Devon for a little post-Christmas downtime in the seaside Shire with my boyfriend's family. Being the first time we city girls have ventured pretty much anywhere else in the UK besides London and Oxford (and the first meet and greet with the fam!), we arrived swathed in layered chunky knits, armed with tweed and woolly socks, not to mention loaded with Dawson's Creek goes English tea and crumpets and hound dog expectations. And Devon, with its twisting country roads enclosed by farmer's hedges, waves smashing dramatically against jagged cliffs, sheep-dotted fields, picturesque stone villages boasting crumbling fourteenth century watch towers and smattering of cozy fire-lit mulled-wine infused pubs, certainly did not disappoint. Straight out of a Thomas Hardy novel, the little English Major trapped deep within fluttered to the surface and yearned for the nearest tattered copy of Wuthering Heights to curl up with by the fire.
The things from which shoes and bags are made
Somewhat comically, we boarded the train at Paddington. Laden with bright green Orla Kiely wheely, Marc Jacobs weekender with pomeranian in sweater peeking out the bag, despite our best efforts to channel Bronte by the sea, we still stuck out like the Empire State building transplanted in the middle of a field, providing much entertainment to the other passengers. Let the Rom Com begin.
snoozing on the journey
Upon arrival, Butters was delighted to encounter little Pip, an East London half Chihuahua half terrier with a serious bounce in his step, who belongs to Becks, my boyfriend's sister. Together, the two little city dogs braved the pebble strewn beach, where gale force winds threatened to blow my little Pomeranian right out to sea and back to her native New York. The little princess, picking her way gingerly across the stones, tail and fluff blowing in her face, did not look the least bit thrilled. "When we get back to the city, Mommy, it's straight to Harrods Pet Kingdom," I could infer from the haughty glint in her eye. "Yes, dear."


Butters and Pip eye James' scone
After a warm up stop in a little pub perched on the boardwalk (Devon afternoon tea, yum), it was off for a tour of the little town of Dartmouth. Quaint as quaint can be, the little seaside town is a perfect place for a photoshoot--girl in forlorn whispy evening wear leaning against an overgrown crumbling stone wall here, a knitwear story set against the backdrop of the crystal blue waves crashing upon the docks there.
J scopes out the viewWe paid a little visit to the town castle, nestled atop a crag and overlooking the mouth of the sea. Scattered and cracked centuries old tombstones lurked at awkward angles sloping down towards the churchyard, giving way to the little seaman's chapel. Once inside the chapel, a solitary voice greeted my ears. In a sort of ethereal encounter, a woman was sitting forlorn alone in the chapel, sending out her thin yet clear voice to reverberate across the pews.
At the day's end, two city girls, cozily tucked up inside away from the salty seaside dampness, fell into a deep, intrepid slumber--the kind of satisfied snooze only possible when hidden from the world's eye and tucked into a recess of countryside peace and quiet. Guess there's a little country girl inside every city one after all.
The Castle and Church



Whispered by
The Clothes Whisperer
Olly olly oxen it's almost free!!!!!!!!! Dangerous tidings from the front line at the Selfridges Boxing Day Sale bonanza yesterday. Discounts ran deep, and tourists ran for the accessories, leaving the field wide open for some proper colonization of the two womenswear floors. Let the carnage begin.
Allegedly the most successful sale in Selfridges' history, yesterday, by 11am, the retail giant had beat its own record million-pound hour from last year by surpassing that sum two hours faster. Sale-enthusiasts began stalking the sidewalks outside from 2am Boxing Day morning--that's when you know you're December 25th was something of a let down. According to the retailer, over fifteen thousand customers had graced their Oxford street doors within 60 minutes of their opening. Roped and poled queues were organised for nearly all major brands within the ladies accessories department (Prada, Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana) to contain the crowds. Waiting time in those queues reached up to two hours yesterday morning.
By the time I got there, the damage had been done on the accessories front. A barren wasteland, like a battlefield after an epic struggle, only a few bleeding stragglers remained standing on the field (or slumped on the shelf) and still, they queued and queued. It was an accessories rapeage unlike any I've seen before. Evidently, the recession-wary consumer is still buying into the idea of accessories as safe investment. Well, in my expert opinion, while that is certainly true, when everyone goes North, the savvy sale stalker heads South. That is to say, whilst the rest of the 15,000 bargain hunters were busy sniffing out whatever accessories they could, mind you, totes and wallets only marked down at max 50%, yours truly snuck upstairs to the ready to wear, where I found McQueen at 80% off and Current/Elliott jeans for practically free. I nearly had an Alexander Wang heart attack when I discovered the darling's label slashed to affordable prices, his T range almost on par with American Apparel.
What the bag-grubbing crowd didn't seem to understand about investment shopping is this. While traditionally bags and shoes and the like are better ways to dip into a brand as you can use it every day bla bla bla and so on. HOWEVER, since Lehman crashed and burned, designers have had two go arounds at design, and have tapered their looks accordingly. That is to say, no longer so trend-driven, designers are turning back to craftsmanship, minute attention to detail, cut, fit and all the other quality-driven aspects of high fashion which do in fact make it high. Therefore, rather than splashing out £500 on yet another incarnation of the it-bag long since gone, don't be afraid to set foot in the most expensive museum-esque recesses of designerwear this sale season. Basic, classic, eternally wearable pieces (say, a Balenciaga black dress) for a fraction of price of that Chloe Padlock revisit that you've been queuing for hours for. So go on, take a gander. High fashion doesn't bite when marked down properly. I promise.
McQueen leggings £178 down from £355
Asymmetrical grey Margiela jumper £200 down from £335
Waxed denim McQueen black biker trousers £114 down from £455
Proof positive
Malene Birger sequined blue trousers £35 down from £150
Butters in bag...PRICELESS
Alexander Wang cage dress £323 down from £645
Alexander Wang black draped mini skirt £200 down from £425
Whistles fringe top with zip back detail £65 down from £135
Alexander Wang brushed wool and leather waistcoat £307 down from £615

look at that leather collar detail...amazing
T by Alexander Wang £40 down from £75
Current/Elliott boyfriend tattered jeans £75 down from £266