Denim Shirt – Courtesy of Urban Outfitters, Leather Skirt – Vintage, Shoes & Bag – Zara, Tab – ASUS Transformer

Rumour has it that in my absence I’ve acquired a job as a professional bricklayer in a dusty little corner in Brazil; married my highschool sweetheart and spread honey on the moon in a windy island in Greece; had a few kids – mostly twins and triplets; shaved my head and attacked the tripod with an umbrella. Partially true, especially the twins and triplets bit – took two visits to IKEA to get shelves for them to sleep on. Again, I won’t apologize for ‘not blogging’, it’s pretty clear you didn’t continuously peck on the F5 (refresh) key every day of the past 2 weeks… although this has been the longest I’ve gone without putting anything up. Who knew the momentum of not-blogging is as powerful as blogging non-stop? The ball started rolling and I just couldn’t stop – not this ‘blog’ ball, the ‘life’ ball. I have many balls, apparently. Admittedly there have been big changes to my life as of late, but congratulate me? I’ve finally got something that somewhat resembles a life! Hope you don’t mind if I share a few in the next few posts, but one thing at a time – starting with how I lost 10kg…

Shot in the beginning of September with Kit, (thank you!)

Jacket – Paul & Joe, Trousers & Clutch – ASOS, Bag – On loan from Mulberry, Shoes – Zara, Shirt – Gmarket

Being a blogger at LFW this season:

1. A girl attending to the ‘blogger queue’ types in Park & Q dot com and tells me in the most matter-of-fact tone that my blog doesn’t exist. After a flurry of failed ‘cube’ jokes the blog finally loads on the laptop and she scrubs her touchpad down the first page, skimming through posts that took 5 hours to put together. Then she nods, says ‘Yeah… I like it‘ and asks for my statistics. I get a Blogger Pass.

2. The security man at the BFC tent thumbs my pass and frowns. ‘Yes, you may run in and get a few,’ he says, ‘but the Vitamin Water bottles aren’t just for anybody, you know’. Later I present my ticket for a show, sponsored by Vitamin Water – he waves me in nonchalantly.

3. My ticket request is denied, the PR doesn’t seem to remember telling me how much they liked my 6-hour-design post of their previous season catwalk. I then receive a mass mail with a standing e-ticket the day before the show.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to experience wonderful design so up-close, and be a part of the ‘magical’ scene, but if this is the kind of attitude I should be expecting every season I’d rather be home sharing an amazing cafe I found the other day or five ways to wear the pair of heels that I otherwise would’ve shredded my foot in doing strangers favours of free publicity.

Thank you Kit for helping with the photos. (Here’s a video by Style it Light TV with the outfit!)

Lace coat – Courtesy of Amber Sakai, Dress & Vest – Uniqlo, bag – Zara, Bracelet – Kurt Geiger, Shoes – Topshop

I have this bad habit of refusing to eat anything during the day when there’s a promising meal in the horizon… actually, it’s a little similar to my concept of hygiene. (Promising event next week, I MUST SAVE MY HYGIENE.) Sometimes I’d curse the sky when it starts pouring while I’m cycling, screaming ‘Not yet okay!? Let me just get my awesome Cowshed shampoo from my back pocket‘ and do a lawnsprinkler shower in the street. Along with the refusing to eat, there was refusing to get out of bed, so basically I woke up that day to have dinner in Aqua Kyoto. I realised I never really look up when on Oxford Street, and naturally I’ve never had a chance to look down – the view from the fourth floor restaurant balcony is spectacular, especially when you have a fire in your glass and you’re not sure if you’re meant to blow it out or feed it some coal and swap that with the table candle. Na, my drink was the 43 Flowers, frappuchino equivalent of alcohol (a dessert, basically), a very sweet and refreshing drink that complimented the four courses handsomely.

The restaurant is done up in a very ‘exclusive club’ feel, but one reservation call will put you down for a perfect moody corner for that anniversary dinner, or after-work drinks on the balcony and throwing drunken raspberries down on Argyll Street.

Thank you Jessica of TCS for the invitation. The outfit is second instalment of Uniqlooks for this month! Also many kissies to Macku for the photos.

Sweater – Vintage, Shirt – Zara, Dress – Vagabond Van, Shoes – Chloe Sevigny x Opening Ceremony, Socks – Happy Socks (via Tobi), Bag – JHYoo, Necklace – Jennifer Loiselle, Watch – ASOS

Ever since I started going steady with my bicycle (relationship status: level 2, bickering has commenced, usually on the topic of why I manage to drive her into every pothole available on the street) (Purposefully darling, I like it rough) my flats: heels ratio produces a pacman piechart. These past few weeks I’ve been hearing new lines from people: 1) were you always this short? and 2) COME OON POKEMON. The latter mostly by my significant other, blowing past me on his own megafast singlespeed ride and yelling YOU ARE SUCH A SLOWPOKE. Hence the new nickname. Anyway, these Opening Ceremony boots put me back in that familiar airspace, +5inch AMSL, one where you can sniff the nearest bakery before the rest of the herd can. They also seem to put me on the ring of fire, with every step wobbling like 8.2 on the richter scale. WHAT IS UP WITH THESE GEOGRAPHY ANALOGIES. (Also notice how I go a little schizo with the brackets)

Thank you Kit for the outfit snaps!

Shirt-dress – Courtesy of Flik Hall, Pants – Zara DIY cut-off jeans, Shoes – Courtesy of Heavy Machine, Bag – ASOS, Jacket – Barbour

I think I may have discovered a new fruit, ladies and gentleman. Events from the past few days have helped uncover the existence of a magical species, in the same family as the banana, the ba-radioactive-neon-green-peel-lining-nana. I have discovered that, despite my entire life in a Western setting with aspirations not unlike an American teenager’s (running a Babysitter’s club, going to prom, getting punched by a mean girl), there is powerful Asian tiger-mum blood coursing through my veins, melting vital organs. If I had it my way, the London Riots would be dealt with kimchi-smeared fingers and a putter club from daddy’s golf-shrine. Yes, some say the riots were the cries of the neglected underclass, the abandoned youth deprived of role models, but before questioning the government on bad parenting, punishment should be ruthless. I personally don’t believe in beating as part of child raising, but a stick has always been a part of my childhood, and I can’t deny that there was always a lesson to be learnt behind every strike. So I don’t steal, well, except from looters, I’ll strip the hoodies off your back and DIY the crap out of it. Hide yo kids, hide yo wives.

There’s no doubt those involved in such shameful, disgusting acts have deserved the ‘Scum’ title, and it’s clear that the rule-abiding citizens have proved our worth by not retaliating but instead cleaning after the idiots, but please let’s do our best to train them not to soil the carpet in the first place. Use a water gun, or a rolled-up newspaper, give them good role models, invest in their future…

Thank you Alice (of Alicepoint) for helping with the shots