Fashion, Inspiration, Photography



I’ve been in London for the past few days, catching up with friends, going to exhibitions (The verdict on the Hollywood Costume exhibition in the V&A? Just go now, I’ll wait here for you to come back), eating my weight in curries, tacos, dim sum and pancakes and drinking an equivalent amount of toasty mulled liquids. There’s nothing you can’t mull to make it that little bit tastier (bar Bovril, I suppose).

And sherry. I do not like sherry.

Here are some Instagrammed pictures – can we take pictures any other way now? Pathetically, I’m very proud that I only took one picture of my food and that was because I wanted to remember the day my skirt became so tight that I had to buy a new pair of trousers.











1.  Skating at Somerset House –  2.  A fashion newsagent on Wardour Street  – 3. A very creepy print from a Brick Lane curry house – 4.  Carnaby Street gets festive with The Rolling Stones – 5 – 7.  Tim Walker on show at Somerset House – 8.  The sad occupants of plastic bags at a manga shop near Leicester Square – 9.  Eyes bigger than my belly at Wahaca (the waiter said that he was proud of me for trying anyway).

Art, The Reading List

What I did in London, told by the books I bought.

Saturday – a stroll down Portobello Road, a rummage in the market stalls, dinner at El Camion and a root through Oxfam Books for some bedside reading.

Sunday – to Leicester Square Theatre for Stewart Lee’s Carpet Remnant World (Couldn’t wait for him to come to Ireland in May).

Monday – A trip to the National Portrait Gallery, then to Chinatown for Dim Sum…

…then some shopping in Covent Garden. Go to Magma Books. Just do it.


Photos from my father

This past weekend I’ve been hanging out with my little brother while my parents have been in London. You know, the usual; I fed him beer, he didn’t do his homework and then I took an overdose and had to be revived with a huge adrenaline needle like Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. As I woke up in the basement of that crack den, covered in blood and snot, I remember thinking, ‘Thank God for little brothers’.

I kid.  Mom, I know you’re reading this.  If you believe that, you’ll believe anything.

While my parents were in London, my Dad decided to send me a few pictures.

These pictures are from the window of Soboye Soong.  Nice, eh?  My guess is that the shoes are from Finsk.  Anyone care to confirm/correct this?


Fashion, Inspiration, Photography

Backstage: Meadham Kirchoff

I’ve never been a big fan of Meadham Kirchoff.  There.  I said it.

That is, until I read the relavatory and surprising interview given by Edward Meadham and Benjamin Kirchoff in the most recent LOVE magazine.  Their work consumes them, a sliver of self-referential sadness, obsession and neurosis runs through their work, often projected through a decidedly Nineties lens.  Their solitary lives mean that their collections are often genre-defying flights of pure self-expression.  Oh, and they’re hardcore feminists. Read the interview if you can.  It’s well worth the twenty minutes or so to pore over it.

Now I look at their shows and think, ‘Oh. Now I understand.’ It’s probably not the best reflection on me, to be honest.

These backstage photographs of their S/S ’12 show were taken by Rachel Hardwick, a CSM student and freelance photographer who was ironically (and depressingly for those of us who can remember the Berlin wall, however fleetingly) born in the decade the Meadham Kirchoff designers draw their inspiration from. A Nineties baby taking photos of Nineties women – I like the parallel.

I think my favourite is the row of Courtneys.


Distilled: London Fashion Week A/W ’11

Here’s another extra super-duper, handy-dandy guide to Fashion week. Last one was New York, Milan will be posted in a few days. Here’s some of my favourite looks, with a bit of trend prediction thrown in under the guise of journalistic integrity.

from l-r
Row 1 – Deep Red – Betty Jackson, John Rocha, Saloni
Row 2 – 70’s Granny Patterns – Christopher Kane, Henry Holland, JW Anderson Woman
Row 3 – Twisted Brit Heritage – Burberry, Paul Smith, Pringle
Row 4 – Bright Pattern Clash – Jonathan Saunders, Louise Gray, Mary Katrantzou
Row 5 – Grown-up Prints – David Koma, Erdem, Jonathan Saunders
Row 6 – Bonkers Tailoring – Jaeger, Jean Pierre Braganza, Krystof Strozyna
All pics from


  • Asymmetrical lapels – lapels as dresses, lapels as scarves, lapels as trousers.  We’ll be wearing lapels as bikinis next – this can only be a good thing.
  • Blue and green – the ultimate optical aquamarine colourpop.
  • Heavy materials – I there’s something I love, it’s going out with he reassuring weight of a blanket around my shoulders (actually, that might be something I need to see a psychotherapist about).
  • Sherlock Holmes coats – full length or cropped, as seen at Pringle.  All I need now is a tweed hat and a pipe.  I already have a sidekick called Dr. Watson.
  • No… Can’t think of anything.
Pics 4 and 5 – Who knew that Granny’s blankets would be back in fashion – and I don’t hate it…
Pic 6 – Paisley has finally been given it’s due in JW Anderson’s first womenswear collection.
Pic 8 – Paul Smith’s collection was probably my favourite catwalk show thus far – there was not one thing that I didn’t want to wear.  And the models!  Like tall, willowy versions of Daria .
Pic 18 – Off-kilter draping deserves to be all over the place come this Autumn

Jones Moans


Despite the title, I don’t think you’d be hearing moans but rather yelps of delight if I got my hands on one on Dominic Jones’ super-spiky, super-shiny rings. Inspired by Art Deco shapes, yet still retaining the ‘incredibly rich punk’ image (Alice Dellal is his business partner, after all) the collection is so covetable it should be made illegal.




I actually did have one moan – I tried on the ring above at the NEWGEN area at LFW and said, “Ooh, it’s very heavy” only to be told, “Well, that ring is mostly for editorial purposes”.  Does that mean that it’s not going into production?  Say it ain’t so Mr Jones.


I wish I was in London: Part eleventy million


Photo by Gavin Watson

If you happen to be in London on the 29th of October, you could do much worse than to pop along to a party held by Vice in a super-secret venue to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of Dr. Martens.  Cheapy-cheap booze and free tickets, which sounds a damn sight better than my dad’s fiftieth. Click here to register for tickets.

On a side note, does anyone know why we call them Doc Martens and not ‘Doctor’ Martens?  This is the kind of unnecessary stuff that floats around my head on a Friday afternoon.