we're moving!

Sob. It is with some sadness that I ask you to turn your attention to the all new and (not so much) improved YLFMD:

http://youlookfabulous.tumblr.com

Thank you for so much reading and please do shimmy on over to tumblr for some simply missable content!

I love your faces xxx

Foxy Cleopatra

Oh my lord. Foxy clutch looks very fabulous. Available here. (Thank you Tres Dodgeois).

I hate clutch bags in general (too small, too much hassle to carry/drink/smoke) but I might make an exception for this furry fellow.

New year. New job. New me? No.

Last post: 6 October. Pretty poor show, even for me. Dear readers, I promise to do you proud in 2011.

My new year's resolutions do not (for once) include quitting smoking. I'm starting a new job in January and who the hell am I kidding? I'll be chaining outside the front door like that weird, unpopular girl in Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion (remember that? oh, just me then).

Instead I'm aiming to serve a salad with each evening meal - Jesus how hard can that be? I'll be answering my phone rather than screening and feeling guilty; naturally blogging on a daily basis; having a super-romantic monthly date-night; chucking all my miserable old holey clothes; taking my make up off PROPERLY... that's quite enough to be getting on with for now thank you. Self-improvement is a real uphill struggle isn't it? At the end of each and every year we review our failures and make hollow promises to ourselves to do better.

I think we all deserve a huge pat on the back just for getting through 2010 in one piece. Tory government? Check. Economic ruin? Check. Volcano/earthquake/snow/miners? Check. Johnny Depp still married to beautiful french wife? Ladies, you are fabulous for keeping it together.

Lots and lots of festive love and good tidings for 2011,

YLFMD

x

Oh my, what attractive trainers you're wearing...

Uugh I'm about to go on holiday ('poor you!' I hear you cry - I know, I know, hear me out...). How hard is it to find appropriate footwear to take on holiday?! Literally all my shoes (with the exception of my VW pirate boots, which I can hardly wear in bloody Sicily, and my Converse) hurt my feet soooo baaaad. And I can hardly flop around in flippies when I'm inevitably running for the flight/ferry/hills.
Shoe choice:
1 pair leather flip flops
1 pair black flats
1 pair dirty, miserable Converse
Not happy. See you in a week. x

The fabulous life of... Herman Doggy Man.

Hermie's super famous - check him out on Rob Ryan's blog.

party time/craft hour

It seemed appropriate to follow my last post with some pretty upbeat/uncontroversial stuff.

it may be grey 364 days a year, but at least we can have rainbow hair.

Ladies and gentlemen, YLFMD is about to get a bit controversial. I hate myself a LOT for having to put an 'I'm-not-in-the-BNP-I-voted-Diane-Abbott-honest' disclaimer at the beginning of this post but fuck it.

A very lovely pal of mine recently dyed her hair brown prior to spending a month in India because, you know, blondes get a lot of attention in some of the less liberated corners of our global community. Well let it be known that I think it's BULLSHIT.

Now don't misunderstand me, I'm not suggesting that women start shrieking about sex whilst in Morocco...uh...Abu Dhabi circa SATC2, and I dutifully covered my shoulders and legs when I was a bloody 13 year old girl on holiday in Israel (how offensive can female skin be at that age, one wonders. Pretty fucking offensive if you believe in Jesus apparently).  But the hair thing? The hair is too far. I recently decided to go back to (fake) blonde from being (fake) brunette and it took ten hours and £150 to do so. It's a pretty miserable world we live in where women have to dye their hair so they're not molested/sold/exchanged for camels.

I promised never to slag Britain off ever again when I came back from a trip to China, where they beat monkeys with sticks for a laugh and spit on you for being white (see, told you it was gonna get controversial). Clearly that promise is now long forgotten and I can mostly be found happily slagging little Britain off again. But little reminders about how hideous the rest of the world can be to independent women like you and I sometimes make me thankful. At least people don't have to dye their hair dark so they won't get too much attention when on holiday here. Fair enough, lots of British women are yet to realise that wearing smaller clothes won't make the women inside the clothes appear any smaller. But what I'm trying to say (in a casually racist and alarmingly ineloquent manner) is that I love our diverse little island of free-thinkers and fashion disasters, and I wonder how long it'll be before the religious/blonde-loving crazies catch up.

Vogue Fashion's Night Out

...was super duper funtimes! Managed to convince MB to come and meet me after work, we pottered into Miu Miu, Mulberry and Anya Hindmarch, scoring free champers on every doorstep. FABULOUS. The only celeb spotting was effing Bill Nighy (yes I think he's a hero but I've spotted him about five times already and the novelty has well and truly worn off), though there were serious paps outside LV, Burberry and Armani - all three were closed to the - shudder - public.
I was a big brave girl and had my picture taken with a beautiful Anya bag for the competition I blogged about earlier this week. Didn't have a chance in hell as I was a) in my work clothes b) wearing all black and had cleverly chosen a black bag, rendering it invisible etc..etc...excuses...excuses. But I did get to have my make-up done and sip mini Moet, all the time telling myself I was Carrie circa season four. Hmm...

Fashion's night out - September 8 2010

For all you West End extroverts, Anya Hindmarch is holding a competition to win a handbag...

Vintage Zooey

Had my first ukulele lesson today, totally inspired by the She & Him gig I saw earlier this year. Thank you Pip!

New York Times loves Dalston Roof Park

So says this blog.  I say it's pretty lovely too. Especially when you break in and there's nobody else around.

We're just calling me LV now, love.

Freakin' love this ostrich window display. FINALLY got round to going to the new(ish) LV shop on Bond Street on Sunday. It is the most incredible (looking) shop ever. There is a huge Gilbert and George mural on the lower floor. I'd missed the credit card destroying machine though - that was only up for a month. Goddammit.

I bought something! And it cost £5! From Louis Vuitton! It was a book. So I did the Bond Street strut with my little bag, knowing that I had beat the system. Kinda. It's half price on Amazon.

Places I (wish I) have been.

Turned up and Scott Pilgrim was taking over the world. Birthday fail. Ate minstrels on the bench outside instead. Waiting for the DVD now innit.

La La Lanvin

As you can see I now have a lookatthatfuckinghipstamatic. So prepare yourself for many a shit 'arty' picture, k? First up: awesome Lanvin window display on Saville Row.

i heart print club london

Today I learned how to screenprint.

treats

As it is nearly my birthday and I am going to be a big lady, the mole man is taking me to see mister Grovesnor at Bistrotheque. I am very excited and it will be very nice.

Sore head

radarzine

to my boy

Back to the old school

Grey is definitely the way after all but what in the name of baby Jesus is going on with the bra?!! For Christ's sake woman, get it together.

Arrest yourself

I mean, seriously, what is Naomi all about? If she's not battering the maid she's being sent dirty little blood diamonds?! This is NOT COOL Naomi. Srsly. Absolutely loving the fact that Mia Farrow has testified against her. Gotta love an A-list scrap. This case is unreal!