TO BANGLE OR NOT TO BANGLE?

If you follow me on Instagram then my love of jewellery is evident and already well known to you and I needn't say anymore. However, for those who don't follow me, (firstly, why? I'm offended right now. I can only assume that it's an oversight, so just to help you out it's, @w_sophia) I love jewellery, in fact you should check out my Instagram... lol.

(A smidge of my colection

Photo: @w_sophia)

Rings, necklaces, bracelets, bangles, I don't discriminate, rather I see them all as extra points of interest. Elevating an otherwise blah ensemble (because we all have those days) to something of a talking point. However, that being said, sometimes these little postulations of sparkle and shimmer don't always transcend the practicalities of real life, leaving them to fall short of actual wearability. Which is their intended purpose after all, right?

(John Galliano for MMM - Subtle as always

Photo: buro247.com)

There's always been a question surrounding fashion and art: does something have to be wearable to be 'fashion'? Can 'art' be worn? Think particularly of high fashion and couture, the whole concept behind it is to create the aspirational; to spin dreams into material existence, but nothing is mentioned about practicality... It complicates things shall we say. 

(A light bulb moment

Photo: guestofaguest.com)

Art and fashion are founded on creativity, informing one another, often indistinguishable from each other. For example, the Chanel shoes that featured a working light bulb in the heels, or Olympia Le Tan's clutch bags that are essentially doppelgangers of 'The Classics'. We've had jewel encrusted face masks - worn by Kanye West and revived by John Galliano in his recent comeback show -; there's been unwalkable heels (refer back to Naomi circa Vivienne Westwood's 1993 show) and jewellery that could quite easily have doubled as weaponry. And yet despite all of the difficulties that accompany such 'kooky' adornments (e.g. a blown bulb, inability to see properly, inability to walk at all...) I'd like to focus on the bangle. Yes, that's right. The run of the mill, wear-anywhere bangle - because as I've recently discovered, it too has its limitations. 

(Looking well read and fashionable all thanks to Olympia Le Tan.

fabulouslettersfromlisbon.wordpress.com)

Winter poses many problems, leaving one as Miss Horowitz elegantly puts it, "ensembly challenged". Consider this: you've decided upon a long sleeved polo when you think, 'self, it's time to accessorise'. Now, do you put the bangle over your sleeve or underneath it? Let me talk you through this. For example, if you opt to wear your jewels underneath said long sleeves, you face the cold sensation of the metal bangles every time you move. In these sub-zero climes, are you willing to put up with this extra brrr just to fulfil your material inclinations? Oh, you are you say? However, in doing so you hide the very accoutrements you've chosen to bedeck yourself in, making the very act of putting them on, a rather moot one... Now if you choose the alternative, that is to wear your bangles atop your sleeve, you essentially shackle yourself into your outfit. So forget rolling up your sleeves to 'get stuck in' as they say, you'll just have to dramatically flick your hair out of your face and exclaim declaratory things like, 'right' and 'now then' if you want to convince people of your productivity. 

(The dream

Photo: unknown)

Perhaps the issue lies more with the bleak weather of late and the *annoying* domino effect it has upon my sartorial proclivities, imparting limitations on what is otherwise my 'wear anytime/anywhere' philosophy. So either I move to warmer climes or... actually that sounds like a bloody good idea. I'm off to check out holiday destinations. Roll on the Summer!!!   

A FEW OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS

(Follow me on Instagram @w_sophia)

I have a tendency to ramble and have been known to hold extensive conversations with myself. A friend's father once quipped that I could talk a glass eye to sleep. I feigned offence but, though I've never found myself in the company of a glass eye, I'm sure there's an element of truth to this eye roll inducing dad joke. You see I hate silence when in the company of others (I fear it will border into the dreaded 'awkward silence' territory) and I also hate blank space. Though it signals potential, the expectation weighs heavily on me. Ergo I ramble or type voraciously. So I thought on this lazy Saturday that I'd pair things back and simply compile a list of my favourite things. For right now at least!

 (All images my own)

Loving all things pink & red (in a non-romantic way), rings on every finger, black clumpy boots & strappy spiked heels, both Naked palettes (because I'm extravagant like that), Smashbox everything, watches in gold & silver, my notebook (e.g. BFF) who goes with me everywhere, Ciate nail varnishes in a strict colour palette of pinks & reds only, my Moschino belt (thanks Han lol) & heart motifs on everything!

I'm noticing a worrying theme here. I must binge on all things pink and red before V-day and purge myself during the whole month of February to avoid turning into a walking, talking, cliche!

Nice & succinct right? Happy Saturday! 

2015: THE YEAR OF THE 70s

(The 70's pinup with the hair that defined an era - best it stays there though)

So the fashion gods have spoken and announced their annual 'trend list', featuring all that we mere mortals will be decking ourselves out in over the coming months. Trend forecasting is something I approach with scepticism, some see it as a guideline but it errs on the side of the dictatorial. Despite choice still being a valid option, trends inform what is 'trendy' and it becomes ever harder to step outside of the predisposed sartorial generator. However, I still love a little gander and quite frankly my findings never fail to shock me, for example, have you heard that the UGG boot is back? Yes, cue mass groan. Yet there is one trend that is set to permeate all of our wardrobes this season and I can't say that I'm feeling sad about it. The swingy 60s are so passé, this time it's all about - not as Meghan Trainor would have us believe, that base - but the stylin' 70s.

Yet it's a path that should be approached with trepidation. One disco pose too many and you risk resembling an ABBA tribute act - unless that's what you're going for and all the more power to you. If you're tempted to try out 'the Farrah Fawcett' you know you're standing at the top of a very deep chasm, the likes of which you may never get out of should you take the plunge. That's a disclaimer to the trend in a nutshell if you will but I like specifics so here goes: how 70's is too 70's?

(Dirty *disco* dancing)

Flares

The flared trouser baffles me. Not so much in the material sense of the trousers themselves but in the pretty negative hype surrounding them. They've got quite the bad rep and unduly so might I add. I get it, flares denote bad fancy dress and flashbacks to dad's rocking questionable attire and hair longer than our own. However, hear me out. Flares are universally flattering, way more so than your beloved skinnies and whilst I'm on the subject of the slim fit denim variety, the flares sure do make a welcome change among the sea of drainpiped legs. They also offer a put together-ness that can only be reappropriated with a blazer, and who truthfully feels comfortable in a blazer ey? Yeah, didn't think so. 

(This could be going a step too far, but hey, whatever waters your plant) 

Florals

Are florals ever out of fashion, like seriously? The sartorial signifier that Spring has sprung, that just like a fresh daisy, Summertime is here and autumnal posies and digital prints speak of the winter months ahead. Yep, that was 2014 summed up in flowers and it's set to continue on. For all those who scoffed at their grandmother's curtains, look who's laughing now. Channel the floral in all it's guises, OTT and ditsy alike. They called it flower power for a reason ya know.

(They say that Sienna's never looked so good. Uh, hello, it's all down to the suede people)

Suede

The fabric of the era. A pain to get dry cleaned but totally worth it. Choose caramel tones, paired with unexpected pastel accents (look to Coach for inspiration) and don't turn your nose up at a patch or two. If it all sounds too retro for your sartorial proclivities, stick to a palette of black and accessorise with structured pieces in glossy finishes. Think of it as haute hippy if you will. 

(Channelling your inner cowgirl, but in the best possible way)

Fringing

I love fringe detailing. It, however, hates me. It's devastating really, a true tale of unrequited love. Yet I remain undeterred in my pursuit for all things tassel-y. Despite the potential tangle opportunities (because there are many) I don't think anything speaks to the little bohemian in me more. The Just Cavalli beauties are pretty radical but there are other options that err on the more subtle, and frankly more sensible, side of the fashion wheel. Try an accessory or two and aim to keep jewellery to a minimum which in this case is code for, non-existent. You'll thank me for it, seriously. 

So go forth and enjoy wearing what is essentially a clashing of terms and eras: the modern retro, or is it, retro modern? I'll leave you to ponder the semantics of my ramblings, I'm going to press my flares and de-tangle my fringing.

(Images via: unknown, pinterest, tumblr, Vogue.com & ifyouareintoit.com) 

SATC: A FEMALE STATEMENT THROUGH FASHION

I know this is not the popular opinion but I must admit that I quite enjoy the Sex & The City films - to clarify, I'm talking strictly the first, we won't even go into the second of the two. Granted it shirked it's radical portrayal of what it is to be female; the societal pressures, claiming ownership over one's sexuality, being able to experiment with one's sexuality, embracing the female body, exploring religion, parenthood, fertility, infertility, infidelity, female friendships, sisterhood... Now, however, as Carrie sums up in the opening credits of the movie, it's all about the two L's: labels and love. 

Though arguably, the order in which these two are recited illustrates that Carrie remains first and foremost a stalwart fashion enthusiast, the fact that the opening scene depicts her rendezvousing with Mr Big and not say, having coffee with her girl friends speaks volumes of the shift in focus here. The show is not so much about raw subject matter anymore, rather it riffs on cheap laughs and cringe inducing overshares (Charlotte's 'little incident' in my opinion isn't boundary breaking, it's just plain yuck). Though I could wax on and on, my focus, as ever, remains upon the clothes. 

Before the opening credits have even rolled right the way through, Carrie has donned four different outfits (five if you're including the slinky pyjama set). And it's here, in the opening scene, that for me, the first outfit of serious note appears. My wardrobe is void of any greenery, a choice I have not consciously made but sometimes nonsensical things happen. However, the emerald green, strapless number with the contrasting yet complimentary green over coat is the stuff of dreams, or at least my dreams anyway. (You wouldn't believe how difficult it was to refrain from sounding like a lovesick teenager whilst writing that sentence then!) Also I feel that it's important to note the mix of hardware (studded belt and black heels) with frivolity (see Eiffel Tower bag - Ps I need one of these in my life. The End) it's truly a masterclass in what, for most, is considered an impossible feat.

Though, as I've already noted, the film lacks the certain rawness that the show was once famed for, it does touch upon the reality of a woman's closet, in that the 'wear once' mantra is both impractical and pretty vulgar in these recession hit times. Carrie's string of pearls for instance gets a fair few outings as does the studded belt I've already spotlighted. Basics get a turn, which isn't something that necessarily happened throughout the series, ever.

The first outfit Carrie wears once back in rainy New York city, after the honeymoon-cum-girls holiday, is an oversized scarf, nondescript white tee, classic leather jacket, cropped jeans and signature heels. It's a recipe for understated chic, however the beauty lies in the fact that, unlike much of Carrie's previous wears, this isn't an aspirational outfit, it's founded upon a principle of distinct accessibility. Check in your wardrobe, I guarantee there are at least three of the above items already taking residence there. 

Next when interviewing a series of (unrealistic) prospective assistants, Carrie dons a grey chunky knit and simple black necklace - again stalwart items found in every girls closet. However, whilst this universality delights me, there was always something enjoyably voyeuristic about watching Carrie wear her eccentric ensembles whilst jaunting across New York. Carrie took the communicative possibilities of clothing to its zenith, punctuating her point of view with a pair of killer heels, always. Her toned down attire in this instance could be a visual incarnation of her apparent heartache (she was jilted at the altar after all), or, possibly a move towards a more approachable aesthetic. Either way, it's refreshing, if a little safe at times - I think I actually spied Miss Bradshaw in a pair of leggings!

SATC has always been about female expression, be that verbally, or through their physicality. It explored the taboo and the ridiculous, highlighting the sidelines and exposing the power of sisterhood. Yes the girls embodied stereotypes in some respects (Charlotte the prude, Miranda the cynic, Samantha the sexual deviant and Carrie the 'all of the above-er') and by the time the films were produced they had become borderline caricatures of their original characters, but the show still continues to offer an informed commentary on today's society. Encouraging discussion and an awareness of female issues all whilst showcasing some of the most fabulous clothing out there. Making a statement whilst statement dressing? Uh, yes please!   

(Images via: telegraph, huffington post, pinterest & hercampus.com)        

BANDWAGON OR BAND-WINGING IT?

bandwagon

ˈbandwaɡən/

noun

1. 1. 

   (especially formerly) a wagon used for carrying a band in a parade or procession.

   "the colourful bandwagon was later purchased for use in circus parades"
2. 2. 

   an activity or cause that has suddenly become fashionable or popular.

   "companies sought to strengthen their share prices by jumping on the dot-com bandwagon"
   
   I'm gonna ignore the first definition and jump straight on the second one... 

   
   

   

   (Ms Moss, the proponent of many a bandwagon.

   Image via: The Daily Mail)

   
   

   There are few bandwagons that I jump on. There was that slight dalliance with the 90's-esque tattoo choker mini-trend but let's not talk about that... I also flirted with the 'mom jeans', but gaining a permanent camel-toe by choice, made me question the aesthetics of my crotch - and sanity - waaay more than is strictly necessary or healthy. There were other bandwagons that were kinda thrust upon me, like brushing my teeth, where no elective was necessary. You just do it, or at least I hope you do?!  

   
   

   Now whilst I'm not rescinding oral hygiene, I am calling into question our (general) unwavering desire to follow the newest 'in' thing AKA, the fad. There are some things worth sticking to, like the aforementioned teeth brushing - without it we would be plagued by cavities and halitosis. On the other hand, mom jeans, regardless of the en masse hype they've garnered, are universally unflattering. Take also the 'man bun' that reared its 'hair piled high' head late last year, and is undeniably just plain bizarre, the bizarrest actually. However, might I offer up a shade of grey, an intermission in my so far black and white analysis of all things faddy?

   
   

   What if a fad actually lived up to all the hype surrounding it? Is it still considered a fad or does it move into the more legitimate field of 'cult' item? Is it even worth trying out all of the potentials; facing all of the disappointment that is to be expected with trial and error, in the hope of one day finding the one? If I'm completely honest, I'm not sure. 

   

   (Image via the genii that are 'Into the Gloss')

   
   

   Despite my uncertainty and obvious hesitancy of buying into things based on hearsay, I decided - after much thought - to delve right in and procure a face brush. For those not initiated into the 'Into The Gloss' portal of all things health, beauty and cosmetic-y, face brushes are the new thing. More thorough than just plain old soap and water but less harsh than some of those scratchy exfoliators that feel more like a brillo pad than a gentle deep clean. Replacing what was hailed the year of the facial oils and serums (apparently they're sticking around for 2015 though), the facial brush is a girls go-to for glowy skin.

   
   

   The first mention of brushing my face left me bemused, understandably, I'm sure you'd agree? It was called the Clarisonic and after a google search I became intrigued. I mean who wouldn't want a handy little gadget that accomplishes what regular face washing doesn't, right? So I wished hard enough and Father Christmas answered with the No7 face brush. Though not the Clarisonic, (a cheaper alternative is a safe test-driving option and Father Christmas is nothing but monetarily conscious and just plain savvy) it has bristles that spin at the push of a button, spring cleaning my pores and resulting in a cobweb-free complexion.

   
   

   I removed eye make-up as instructed, lathered on some cleanser and whirred it into action. I felt buffed and a tad delirious but ultimately, I felt deep down clean. The only slight debacle I had was when my baby hair got tangled in the bristles. It does however say in the blurb, to keep hair well back and I'm living proof that this is not something to overlook. Other than the loss of my prepubescent hair follicles, I have no complaints. 

   

   (Love thy face.

   Image Source unknown)

   
   

   I guess expectations are a funny thing, especially those founded upon the word of others. Personal trial and error is the only truly effective means of discovering what works and what in years to come will leave you cringing and your children laughing - at you. Making informed decisions is wise but trying out that 'live and learn' thing is good also.  

   
   

   You can take my word for it, but it's better if you don't. 

RESOLUTE IN MY RESOLUTIONS

Resolutions. They're funny things aren't they? But still we keep on making them, living in hope that this year will be the one that we surpass our every wish and whim. 

After my (rather lengthy) introspective ramble about the constrictions of resolution-making, I decided to channel the tortoise and take my time (hence this post being over a week late!) Perhaps combating tardiness should be at the top of my list… But whilst pondering what exactly it was that I wanted to accomplish over the next 52 weeks, I realised that perhaps over-thinking might be a good place to start. You see, it goes so well with procrastination; I fritter away time under the guise of 'organising my thoughts' when in fact it's just plain  idleness. Ironically my next thought was to write a list, which is basically an excuse to further waste time under the guise of 'formatting'. Being proactive and organised is a very delicate balance ya know. 

My main motivation behind figuring out 'life goals' was the feeling of great satisfaction I'd surely get once those little blighters were ticked off one by one.  

I won't pretend that it was easy. The desire to write: 'learn three languages, travel the world twice and read the entire collection of Dickens' works', was hard to fend off, but I came to the tough conclusion that it probably wasn't going to happen - at least not in the near future. Also I was sure that the stress of trying to accomplish any of these would in fact out weigh the eventual satisfaction of actually completing them. 

So I mulled it over some more (there goes that procrastination thing again…) and I decided to tackle things a little more do-able. Simple goals because as far as I'm aware, there's nothing in the rule book that denotes for resolutions to be insurmountable. I'm starting off small by making a conscious effort to do things now. For example, instead of walking the dog later, I will ask my brother to do it now, thus combatting my inclination of avoidance. 

I also decided to read more in an attempt to nourish my brain with intellectual substance, or something like that…

Another of my to-do's is to actually make use of my ever-expanding nail varnish collection. I plan to actually use them all (maybe even all at the same time) & re-do at the first sign of chippage.

I have amassed quite the collection of jewellery over the years. I have also forged some steadfast favourites that tend to get more wear than others. I plan to shirk this favouritism and embrace all of my jewels equally. I figure this will offer good practise for when I eventually have children, as I hear favouritism tends to breed bad feeling among offspring.

And there it is; my humble list of prospective accomplishments, and you know, if I happen to become fluent in any language along the way, all the better! 

Here's to a productive New Year! 

(Images: my own & unknown. None of the above images are my own & I do not claim credit for any unless stated) 

NEW YEAR, NEW…?

NYE. The abbreviation oft misread as NYC, resulting in great disappointment, because alas you won't be living up the new year in the land of supposed dreams. What will probably happen is that you will in fact be drinking shots in your local dive - or in my case, at your kitchen table. 

A whole year passed and another one beginning just in the single tick of the clock. There's this kind of myth surrounding the year's end, that it marks a great milestone and thus inspires some great change. However, I can vouch that the only thing changed is the date, my voice - or lack there of - and the few holiday pounds gained, due entirely to the sheer amount of chocolate I have unabashedly devoured over the last ten days.  

The spot that was cosily taking up residence on my chin (no, not that one, this is another one. Yipee) yesterday, is still well and truly holding anchorage there, my hair could still do with a wash and a pile of ironing still awaits me. 

We see the new year as a definitive closing of one chapter and a fresh page to start anew. To distance oneself from all that has gone before with the hope of tomorrow being a better day - and that goes for all of our tomorrows really. We live in optimism. But that's the thing with the coming of the new year, it puts the pressure of expectation upon us, which is made all the worse with the time old tradition of the 'New Year's Resolution'. 

Yes, it's good to have goals but the boundary between realistic and just plain ridiculous is very thin come this time of year - due possibly to the amount of alcohol consumption typical of such celebrations; but also because dreaming big is instilled in all of us. And of course, why shouldn't we strive for the seemingly impossible? 

However, my issue is this: should we really be limiting our own personal potential to the in-between time of one year to the next? 

Lists are great and there is nothing more satisfying than ticking off everything that you've set out to achieve, but this is possible during every single one of the 365 days that comprise the year. So write your lists. Think big. Live those dreams but be inspired everyday, not just when you've flipped the last page of your calendar! (Actually do people still use paper calendars?!) 

Forget your empty promises of 'being a better person' or 'being happy everyday' because frankly, they're futile. What's my first resolution I hear you ask? Organise a better outfit for the 1st of January next year!  

Happy New Year!!  

(None of the above images are my own and I do not take credit for them.

Images via: angelicablick & unknown)