Les Chats

I love cats.
The way they purr and act all adorable when they want something. Then skulk off into the darkness all of five seconds later. Disappearing until you hear an epic tiff with another member of the feline species over a prime spot on the covetable roof. Before returning for food and a bit of human affection. One could also interpret this as being very Gallic.

And everything associated with those creatures. Feline-eyed sunglasses. The term 'catfight'. Being catty.
Sex kittens...but maybe not the hairballs. I mean, if they're good enough to be a Grace Coddington obsession, they're plenty good for me.

And I love them more when they're decked out in delicious outfits fresh off the runway.
Like these cat girls. The stars of the new issue of Chelsea (ah yeah, so hip it hurts - find it in New York...typical)
Kitty heads on the sensually voluptuous bodies of retro pin up girls. In Miu Miu, Louise Goldin, Stella and more. Messy cursive in bad grammar (a pedant's nightmare surely...) Delicate, sweet and oh-so-wrong.

It's a bit creepy and dreamy-feminine at the same time. All in a kind of beyond awesome way.

Magnifique. Nothing less.

Miaow.

Love & Purrs

xx

Bec

Blanche

I cannot wait for summer. Literally.

Lazy afternoons lying on the grass. Iced Pimms in a jug (i.e. happiness in a bottle). Breaking out the K. Jacques.
Denim shorts sans winter-ready noir tights. Copious amounts of jewellery on bare, bare arms. Open air parties. My new take on the humble barbecue (oh yes keep posted). Popsicles. Lemonade. With umbrellas. It's all about freedom. Having new year's resolutions and breaking them. Fleeting romances. And hot, hot days.

And clearly recent additions and pointless indulgences kind of make the above a bit of a 'Hello El Capitan Obvious' statement.

L'ete '10-11 is clearly going to be all about the gauzy, sheer tank.
In all shapes, sizes and colours. Basic but with a certain delicate edge. Practical (throw on over a bra, pop on some sandals and run out your door for those daytime romps - simply add vertiginous heels come sunsets on the rooftop...) I'm a little in love with the ingenue-esque, minimal beauty of my newest addition. It makes me feel very Virgin Suicides. With its fragile, almost innocent but 'not as sugar sweet as she looks' aesthetic. Especially when thrown over the every knowing girl's wardrobe essential - the black bra. And paired with the simplest of silver charm necklaces.

With its requisite suitably Gallic details - a touch of 'Le Petit Ecolier'. With a Peter Pan collar framing a plunging neckline. And little girl smocking adorning an otherwise bare back. It's all sort of deliciously yet subtly risque. Cute and yet somewhat subversive.

In other words, my new favourite thing for a summer of love.

Can you feel the sun?

Lots of love and sunshine

xx

Bec

Packin' It

Backpacks are cool again.

Fat is putting them in their shop-window displays.
The overly skinny, cigarette puffing cool cats at The Bend are wearing them.
And my bible of all things hip and happening in The Big Apple (yeah because clearly I live there and can partake in aforementioned super cool activities) has proclaimed that they are oh-so-back in a big way.

And on the additional flip, you can please your Asian mother with its beneficial physiotherapeutic qualities. Something about distributing the weight equally on the shoulders...I wasn't really paying attention at the time.

In any case - I really want a knapsack. If only because it makes a catchy rhyme - 'A knapsack on my back...' (Lame? Okay...yeah I'm going to shut up now...it's the whole 'year older...lamer jokes' thing...apologies if your dork radar has just exploded in your face)

You could just jump on the bandwagon and you'd be sort of cool (like the cigarette puffing and beanstalk legged crowd that shop like crazed retail whores at Fat). Or you could do one better - by simply doing your own thing. Like the always impeccably attired Tarang (such a stalk-mine if there ever was one...and a truly lovely friend to boot).

My inner dandy man (who clearly has serious consumer whore problems) is way obsessed with his beautifully practical canvas and leather piece of backpacking goodness. Simple, deliciously pragmatic and made in limited batches (that's the real catch...) - with a real 'heritage-cool' edge to it. The apparent physical benefits of getting your back into it just got exponentially more obvious.

That, or I'm getting old and turning into my mother...

I'm going with the former

Much loving,

xx

Bec

Birthday Bling List Part I

Birthdays were made for indulgence.
Decadent amounts of cake that would make Marie Antoinette proud (overly well taken care of by Asian mothers...who certainly take the phrase 'Let them eat cake' to a whole new hyper-bad-for-your-diet level)
An over-expensive drop of booze.
Breaking the rules (yes I will dance to jazz in my room in nought but black lingerie and a trench)

And presents. Ah, presents.

I'm cleaning up quite nicely so far. Parents clearly believed this was the year for a Chanel starter kit (the bag, the jacket...oh so much to love...it kind of reminds me of the excitement surrounding the Easybake oven of childhood days almost forgotten but ten billion stylistic times better...)

But alas - the list of wants never quite ends...here are some beautiful, pointlessly decadent shiny things that still remain sadly unchecked off the list:

1. Pamela Love talon cuff


Ah, the talon cuff. The one piece of jewellery that has obsessed my magpie-esque mind for most of this year. I often dream of it adorning my itchy wrist. Possibly too often. It's almost become like a phantom limb. Neo-goth but oh-so-cool. In an edgy Roitfeld Junior way. It would elevate my faux-cool cred to almost god-like levels. Then all I would require (post acquisition of talon cuff that is...) would be an endless supply of Balenciaga, Givenchy and Alexander Wang...a industrial warehouse in the Big Apple...and an assortment of fashion royalty as new BFFs...

I mean, getting the cuff is the hard part yes?

2. Maison Michel headpieces




I tracked down that hidden oasis of all things eclectic, cluttered and ornamental, Christine. For the sole reason that they had the new collection of Maison Michel headpieces. There are so many things which scream instant death trap for my hip pocket here. Head adornment. Lovingly made by the Laetitia Crahay (ah yes, she who designs accessories for none other than Chanel). Perfect chapeaux in every size and shape. And the headbands. My now nearly dead inner accountant nearly baulked at the $600 for a piece of ornamental headwear...but seriously...

3. Repossi ring




No wish list would be complete without the ultimate luxe addition to my rainbow family of knuckledusters.
And this would be like the Rolls Royce of the collection.
Black gold.
Bold and big to the point of non-functionality.
It was love at first sight.
It doesn't hurt that it also comes with not-so-optional fantasy of living like modern Monaco royalty and/or the chic sister of a certain Greek shipping heir who may or may not have famously dated Paris Hilton. I'll let your pop-culture trivia addled brain work that one out...

Love

xx

Bec

PS. This isn't quite over...and I am kind of...and I mean only kind of...willing to wait until Christmas...Maybe...

A Beautiful Brunette

Ah brunettes. There's something about them. Something which made me tear out that 'Brunettes Special' in Russh filled with muse-tastic goodness in the form of Isabelle Adjani, the Birkin scion, Emmanuelle Alt...you get the picture. Something which makes me fantasize that my imaginary dreamboat will have dark brown hair and a very nice accent. Something which makes me think - mystery and art. And chocolate. Definitely chocolate.

Yummy.

It's a bit of an unhealthy obsession. Like most things. Which spilled onto my taste in bags. Lord knows how much I love a good beaten up brown bag (I kind of love brown paper bags as well...save for the fact that they do tend to lose out on the durability factor) I rediscovered this baby while rummaging in the ever-expanding 'drobe for a birthday outfit (you really do need to dress up for those special days). And it was a nice find indeed.

Deliciously abused (apparently lugging around your life in things and throwing your bags on grass and every surface known to man has its effects) so it looks like it has a bit of a story (or many...and trust me it does). With that beautiful butter-soft leather. Perfect for cuddling and the sniffing (oh you SO do smell leather goods - you're just lying...through your teeth).

It does make me feel just a little bit Gossip Girl (if only my school bags were that yummy)...

Now all that is required is aforementioned brunette dreamboat with...an accent...

Perfect birthday present no?

Love

xx

Bec

Act Da Fool

I love film. And I love pretty wearable things. And I especially love when the two come together. Beautifully.

Coming from the girl who has watched 'The September Issue' about a million times (Do you also refer to everyday situations/people in terms of Anna or Grace...let's be friends) . And pretty much every single Chanel film ever made (I clearly could not get enough of the mythical Madame, her frocks and incessant very French bonking). Not to mention the Valentino documentary (I too would love an army of pugs and a perma-orange tan). And everyone's favourite retro party of camp - Blow Up (but with Birkin and some scandalous 60s era nudity - it's a real classic).

Now that we have that out of the way. I love lookbooks too. In case you haven't already noticed (in which case - you don't love me as much as you should and/or don't sit next to or behind me in class - best procrastination fodder. Bar none.)

So that whole pointless rant was really to kind of explain why I am going just vaguely bananas for this amazing piece of Harmony Korine film goodness. Ah yes, it's a Proenza Schouler lookbook (only one label could make me want to return to being back in private school in reincarnated grungy muse form). But set to a sparse, spoken word narrative, quasi-dreamlike ghetto playground. It's a little miserable. Majorly urban poetic. But kind of whimsically happy at the same time. Full of retro-faded, tres dreamy sunlight. Pretty clothes and a she-gang of tough looking teenage gals. It's kind of ugly and weird and majorly grunge. But captivatingly beautiful.

In other words - it's sort of brilliant.

Plus - it's all my loves rolled into one.

How could I resist...

Lovin' you fools

xx

Bec

Les Bottes

Sometimes there is nothing better than a self-bought present.
It's all the indulgence (I mean, hell, it's my birthday...why ever not) minus the awkward 'I appreciate the thought but actually kind of hate it' fake smile and die moment (oh you know what I mean...surely...you fellow faux-smilers)

These boots by Vanessa Bruno (may or may not have sighted another gorgeous pair of non-functional but perfect hiking boots in store today...) were the perfect pointless, self-acquired indulgence. Pointless because (despite the miserable rain and gloom that was yesterday) - we are apparently heading into warmer months and longer days (i.e. non-ideal boot weather unless you're a dominatrix or a stickler for punishment and ruined leather)

But just looking at them - how could a girl say no...

Timelessly elegant and deliciously buttery calf leather.
For that instant dash of Parisian cool which automatically transports me to my fantasy world of days spent watching beautiful people , with equally dashing French beau sitting across (possibly reading poetry to me in a sultry accented voice), taking a drag on a Gauloise (preferably minus the not so desirable health effects), sipping a cup of Mariage Freres tea while nibbling on a whimsically flavoured Laduree macaron. Oh so modern Marie Antoinette no?

A bit of a subtle head turner with that gold flecked heel. With just enough height to raise me above 'average Asian height sans being stripper-heel'. And just hitting at the knee. Gorgeously simple - yes die superfluous hardware and unnecessary zips. It's enhanced minimalism at its sartorially perfect peak. Let us not forget that they also make impressive 'leg lengtheners' (without the very painful sounding surgery...)

Fantasy, instant faux plastic surgery and a bit of a beloved, timeless classic.
And that, my friends, is a worthwhile indulgence for anyone.

Indulge!

Lots of love and more

xx

Bec