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Daytime tote’n: 3.1 Phillip Lim Pashli satchel via Monnier Freres

Front/rear lights for my bicycle that I never realized I had – I swear this bag belonged to Mary Poppins

Cutler & Gross sunnies, window reflection sadly does not come with.

LC-A+ camera because I’m too cool for school, or too poor for the Canon EOS M.

3.1 Phillip Lim Pashli satchel in pine green, AKA our Christmas tree this year.

Urbanears in ‘do-not-disturb’ tomato-red, and best noise cancelling headphones.

Spare battery and memory card for the beast that bears the name of Canon + business cards for this enterprise.

Samsung Galaxy SIII – another one of my horcruxes.

House keys and oyster card, if I’m clumsy enough to lose this I should be put into jail.

Fashionary planner 2013 (also featured in first image) and assortment of pens + portable watercolour kit

Wallet from Chloé, red for ‘warning’ or ‘danger’, or would yellow wallet be a better reminder that I don’t have unlimited funds?

Tapestry pouch, stolen from mummy who had it since we lived in Austria in the late 80’s.

Leather gloves from ASOS with slits, for knuckle dusters, naturally.

Not pictured, but the main culprit for carpal tunnel and all known diseases, Canon 5D Mark II + lens

… and a compressed version of that for the evening: DVF Carolina lip bag via Monnier Freres

Stella McCartney Falabella zip pouch as a thin wallet alternative.

YSL travel compact, bought at the airport under pressure of ‘duty free’

DVF Carolina lip bag, bumping strangers in the tube with the lips and being awkwardly intimate.

YSL Touche Eclat for lightening touchups, perfect for under-eye baggage.

Samsung Galaxy SIII – another one of my horcrux.

Chanel ‘Laser’ lipgloss for the impromptu jedi battle, naturally.

Balenciaga Eau de Parfum purse spray (mini vial), also can be pepperspray, depending on situation.

Cable-braid turtleneck. Cargo trousers

Cable boatneck. 1969 legging cords. Fairisle socks

Wool military coat. Dot skinnies. Leather tote. Fairisle scarf. Ivory epaulette shirt

Above: Khaki shirtdress – Gap. Fairisle cardigan – Gap. Bag – 3.1 Phillip Lim via Monnier Freres. Shoes – Miista; Thank you Kit for helping with the photos!

In lieu of what I wrote the other day, about how my life is spectacularly extra, extra ordinary, and that dressing is dressing up, this post comes at good time. I’m not going to pretend and say this is what I wear when I’m, for example, at home eating a perfectly-cut bowl of fruit or reaching for a CD from the top shelf. Who uses CD’s anymore, anyway? (Wait, I don’t get dressed for Spotify either.) My floordrobe consists of pieces that specifically weren’t made for my gender (brother’s old sweatshirt, hubby’s cardigan…etc), which shuffles slightly depending on what time of the month it is and whether I want to smell of smeared chocolate or not. Gap asked for my favourite winter basics from their current season to be edited into a Christmas wishlist, and I thought it might be fun to shoot a few scenarios and what I wish I were wearing, had I been blessed with diligence, or common hygiene.

Disclaimer: This is not a sponsored post, believe it or not.

Uniqlooks November: One item, three looks – Ultra-light down vest

Look 1: Down vest – Uniqlo. Mirror dress as top – Christonpher Kane x Topshop. Peg trousers – ASOS White. Heels – Christian Louboutin Corneille. Clutch – JHYoo. Necklace – H&M x MMM

Look 2: Down vest – Uniqlo. Coat – CK (gift from mummy) Cable-braid turtleneck – GAP. Boyfriend jeans – ASOS.

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Booties – Thakoon via The Northernlight blogshop. Bag – Boots – H&M x MMM

Look 3: Down vest – Uniqlo. Neoprene jacket – H&M Trend. Dress – Nikicio. Boots – H&M x MMM. Clutch – Kurt Geiger.

Well, isn’t this awkward, the overall effect of this edit makes me look like a car thief in various stages of the profession. Especially that first outfit with the ridiculous keyring necklace and the inverse-tattoos up my arm, oh and that invisible wrench inside the clutch I’m pawing at. What the batpoop am I wearing? I do apologize, any outfit is a step up from ratty PJs and I think I may have played too much Sims 3 this past weekend. I’m one chess-game away from being level 10 in the criminal career and boy, I can’t wait to be Emperor of evil and make 418 simoleons an hour. So please ignore that one, I’d do something about it but my Photoshop skills don’t exactly include stripping the clothes off and burning it in a barrel trash can. Plus if I had such mad skills I’d be an indespensable talent to humanity, or at least the male bits of it.

Nailpolish – YSL La laque couture 1 (Pop Art)

The ‘I am so sleepy, so so sleepy’ face

Neoprene Jacket – H&M trend. Saddle bag – Warehouse. Contrast-sleeve jumper – Topshop. Quilted orange skirt – Topshop Boutique . Geometric print skirt – YesStyle. Cross-patterned shirt tied around waist – Topshop Unique. Shoes – H&M x MMM. Thank you Kit for helping with the shots!

After these photos were taken we went and had a big healthy breakfast. No, I’m just convinced the sun sets at 7AM in London, how about where you live? My guess is that a few weeks ago our beloved sun happened upon a self-help book from the bookstore discount bin and on reading it experienced a surge of self-worth and decided it really was working too hard. Then I’m sure later it bumped into an old friend at the laundromat and got into a deep conversation on the topic of what’s up, where a bit too much empathy from the friend – one lousy reaction to an awkward encounter – fed to the sun’s new-found seething for the world and its ungratefulness. And on its way home tripped on loose brick and dropped all the fresh laundry in a bus stop puddle, at which point it goes SCREW THIS I’M GOING TO SLEEP FOR 6 MONTHS. Occasionally it gets up and goes to the bathroom, which is when we have some light outside, for about 15 minutes.

But that’s just my guess.

Sexy brunch at Hotel Amour

A stroll in Montmartre

Travel buddy Kit

Military jacket – Zara. Cable-knit dress – Mango. Knee-high boots – Sergio Rossi. Leopard-print bag – Kurt Geiger

The morning after the Dior x Printemps Christmas windows launch I woke up under a tangle of clothes, magazines and bedsheet – everything about that evening was fast-paced and it wasn’t until wee hours in the morning we stumbled back in our hotel and crashed head-first into a corner of the bed. I’d fallen asleep in Kit‘s room to the dull rumbling sound of French TV, which occasionally switched channels whenever we’d turn in our sleep (that remote has seen intimacy like no other). In the morning we arose to a BBC World breakfast show, and felt ourselves right at home. I fetched water from the bathroom tap to make us coffee, while Kit fished out her outfit from the sheets. Rue des Martyrs was a ten-minute walk from the hotel, which is where we were to meet Alix for brunch at Hotel Amour. I felt first-love again with a bite of my eggs royale, and the heavenly cafe crème replaced the sachet coffee and I bounced into life. Fueled by amour, we braved one flight of stairs to Montmartre, then surrendered at the foot of the next, and explored laterally a neighbourhood of brightly-coloured ponies and doll houses.

I wonder what organ allows me to write corny things like this. Actually, I bet it’s my appendix, the sentimentalist that plays dead while I sit in my sarcastic panties in our freezing grey warehouse-flat in London.