Pavement Kicks

I have a love-hate relationship with the humble sneaker.
Hate because it reminds me (ever so much) about my incompetency in all things athletic.
Exercise? Moi? What about never...
And how I look tres ridiculous (never street-cool) in multi-coloured Air Force Ones.

Irrespective of my inability to pull off ghetto...
I kind of love my uber-chic compadre Sam's Miu Miu deerskin kicks.

Serious ghetto/sporty cred. Sure. But totally edgy/noir at the same time.
And with a dash of superfluous luxe. That just gets better with age.
Plus they're like the shoe versions of my beloved deerskin tote.

Definitely some sweet kicks.

Love

xx

Bec

All Tied Up

When I was but a young gold-digging girl in kindergarten, I also discovered that tying up shoelaces wasn't one of my go-to skills. Buttons - I could deal with. Zips - I could do with my eyes closed unless it jammed...in which case...there could have been blood or alot of fabric rippage.

Laces and perfecting the art of the sloppy bow were something else. Eventually, that little girl did end up learning how to perfect the rather elementary art of tying up her shoes but decided ultimately most of the time they weren't worth the effort. Hence why several pairs of Chucks have ended up unworn and unloved. Brogues are worn loosely enough to be slipped into. And 'retardedly-easy-to-put-on' babies like zipped up biker boots or my beloved pop-button-on Chloe booties (and their identical but significantly cheaper Zara twins) are much loved favourites.

I have always loved tie-up boots from afar. And these 'self tied up' Trimapee boots (belonging to my favourite man of edgy style) were a crushworthy new discovery. They're like combat boots without the ubiquitous lace holes and structure. And it's like a whole string-tastic work of art just tying them up.

It's inspiring me to put alot more effort into my much maligned shoe-lace tying skills...which fingers crossed will exponentially improve with the arrival of those dandy man inspired, side lace up Illex platforms arriving in the mail this week. One can hope...

Love & Laces

xx

Bec

Fruit Loops

The kids at Lenko are so beautiful and stalkable (not that I go there repeatedly to acquire more somewhat left-of-centre adornment for my fingers) and Sam was certainly no exception to the rule.

Aside from being preternaturally pretty (all tousled black hair and doe eyes) - her outfit is literally TOO adorable!
There is of course your beautifully executed Melbourne black (cute tiered dress and to-die-for booties...dear Lord I do love a good pair of booties...but I doubt anyone needs to hear me wax rhapsodic about that)

But my absolute favourite thing here is (go figure) - THE BLING
Qualifying note: Can one really use the term bling when...it really isn't all that shiny at all?

Her giant rainbow fruit bowl necklace reminds me of happy mornings with Fruit Loops (which deluded me into thinking all fruit was rainbow coloured and tasted pretty much like 100% artificial food colourings with scary chemical names and sugar) It may literally be the happiest piece of neck adornment I have ever seen.

Be happy & healthy!

But possibly not with Fruit Loops (although I must confess to being more of a Coco Pops fan myself...)

Love

xo

Bec

Absolutely Fabulous (Brunswick Street)

Meeting fabulous people (in their rather ab-fab surroundings) makes me ever so happy!
And getting to have a chat to Sam was definitely the fantabulous highlight of my little trip to Brunswick St.
Am I repeating the word fabulous (and/or variations thereof) far too much in two sentences?

Truth is. It cannot be helped.

Mind you, it's easy to get distracted by the temple of all things borderline crazy/camp/cool at Shag. But hello...beyond awesome tuxedo blazer...90s leather pants (actually old Sportsgirl...in case you were wondering. One of those moments where I'm left drooling in 'Good Lord, that is so wrong and yet so awesome at the same time')...nifty shirt...suspenders and combat boots. And then there's the hand-made neckpiece. Just stratospherically amazing with a capital A?

Y-E-S (PLC taught me how to spell that...no wait...kindergarten did)

After five minutes of just pure *jaw-drop and gasp* spasticity, I was then suddenly hit with a wave of: 'God, I am supremely untalented.' I have pretty much tried my hand at every hand-made crafty type thing on the planet (including self-painted tops and step-by-step cross-stitching) and epically failed at all. Supreme moment of talent envy. Especially when I realized it was the man's side hobby.

And therein lies what should be my mission for the week: Start developing a beyond fabulous hobby.

Cross stitch anyone?

Love

xo

Bec

Unhealthy Obsession: Brogues Part I

I should probably be sent to some mental institution for my unhealthy obsession with brogues.

The fact that I go absolutely postal for anything and everything that vaguely resembles a dandy man shoe.
But there's something about the humble winkle-popper (yeah apparently that's actually a real term for it) that I just can't get out of my head. Something that evokes the air of the well-heeled dandy gentleman of leisure (I am a bit in love with the idea of the failing 19th century European aristocrat who was good at nothing and yet brilliant at everything, and were I a man, I'm sure I would have come up with the idea for the classic nothingness novel: 'The Life & Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman' and its French counterpart)

I could go brogue stalking forever. I should probably branch out and have more of a love affair with other types of shoes (I am a bit of a boot stalker as well) but it probably isn't going to happen anytime this week (or the next...but no guarantees about the week after next...I could have found a completely new thing to go mental for...)

With so much to love from classic, impeccably made Ballys (I'd pretty much just met the man but I'd decided we were going to be firm friends after sighting his babies) to rain-splattered slightly whorey cut-out pair (I did feel terribly sorry for my friend as they probably weren't the proper foot attire for a downpour) or Steph's adorable (similarly rain splattered) vintage and much loved-and-abused richelieus (yes they sound so much classier en francais)...

How could you not love a good brogue?

Get your dandy factor on this week.

And send much love to your mamas today!

Love

xo

Bec

Leather & Drop Crotch

I must admit...

When my ab-fab friend Sam informed me that he was experimenting with a new look...I was skeptical.

Even more so when I was told that it involved a 'quarter leather jacket and drop crotch pants' which tend to bring unpleasant mental images of both 'weird-in-a-bad-way' punks and yummy mummies doing the harem pant thing.

Oh me of little faith!

It turns out the man definitely knows how to bring a (much desired) bit of Rick Owens to my rather bland usual surroundings. It's dramatic gothic flair in an understated wearable (and totally crushworthy) way. On another note - I am also totally heart-ing the slightly haute-trashtastic effect of the ripped tank top (oh Balmain - what have you done to me? It's apparently a serious sign of mental problems to come when you start understanding why $1000 ripped tank tops sell out on Net-A-Porter...)

In a nutshell - Just another one of the many reasons why I absolutely adore this boy to pieces.

Love

xo

Bec

A Study In Grey, Blue & Black

Athletic and yet classic and luxe...
It's a hard act to follow...

The subtly softly warn in black leather duffle...
The unusual blue hue of the jeans...

I love pretty much everything about it (and the guy who wears it)
Our fabulous bitch sessions mean the world to me...

Love

xo

Bec

Old School Luxury

I love seeing people who make an effort to wear something beautiful to a rather boring place like uni every day.
That's one of the things I love most about Sam, there's always something about the outfits he puts together that makes me want to drool...whether it be a piece of McQueen jewellery, a really well cut shirt...or some really classic luxe Tod's loafers that totally combine the comfort of sublime materials and craftsmanship with style that never really goes out of fashion.

The quietly luxe piece for your own enjoyment...meant to be appreciated by a well-trained eye.

A classy man after my own heart.

Love

xo

Bec

He Who Weareth McQueen

A little bit Western, a little bit Punk...
Very Alexander McQueen...

Love

Bec

xo