Super-a-musing

Uh oh. Just came across another site to drool over; Supermuse. My fashion porn addiction is getting a bit out of control and definitely keeps over taking my dwindling bank balance. This great site of vintage and vintage-inspired pieces has just launched and the lookbook is great. And it has the gorgeous everyone-wants-to-be-her Alexandra Spencer from editorial-esque blog 4th and Bleeker. Very 90's. But with clean hair. As I was too young or maybe uncool enough to really appreciate this decade the first time, I'm definitely channeling it in round two. Or I would be if I wasn't being a good girl this month and saving my pennies.

Credit where credit's due: Supermuse
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What Katie Did Next In The Country

Miss Moss has been representin' good ole windswept Gloucestershire in the latest stills for Rag & Bone's SS13 Campaign. 

Here she is all rockstar hair and impish grin turning on the appeal to photographer Alisdair McLellan at her pad in Southrop. (NB: There's a cracking pub in her village called The Swan. Great for dates, break ups, drinks, model-scouting. All the usual bar activities.)

I love the totally natural tone of the R&B campaigns – they're always accessible and natural whilst still retaining that want-to-be-her magic which their brand embodies. 

So, yet more things to add to the ever-growing list of wants. Old Mossy's thighs and a S/S13 white blazer. 

Credit where credit's due: Fashion Gone Rogue & Elle

Snow Bore

My poor, poor feet. 

For a week they've been dressed like the first day of school in too big socks sliding down to the toes of ugly shoes. By day they're incased in snow-proof wellies, by night the chilblains are kept at bay by market-bought and distinctly non-saucy bed socks. 

Some people may long for the oooh and the ahhh of ferreting their work-weary feet into their slippers or collapsing Ugg boots, but not I. Nope, nope.

I want to wear stilettos with heels sharp enough to pierce a man's heart. I want to trot around in 5 inch pumps and strut along in vertiginous wedges. I do not want to wear calf doubling, 'comfortable' shoes any longer. 

So weather, listen up. Stop snowing. The people on the M6 last night didn't think it was cute or fun (well after the first five minute South vs North snowball fight it certainly wasn't); those with broken, bent or buckled cars don't find the snowy lanes pretty or picturesque and there's only so many snowmen/snowball fights/sledge runs you can enjoy before you realise you really have to go back to work. So just stop now. Stop. NOW. 

These people however have retained their style despite the snow. Bastards. 

Credit where credit's due: Vogue, Le21Eme & The Sartorialist

There is a God...

...And his name is Beckham.

Sometimes with my job for The Polo Magazine, as with any job, I have to plug through tedious emails and plough my way through the Spam and the Viagra and 'increase your pleasure' pops up. But, sometimes, SOMETIMES, an email pings up with beautiful attachments. Attachments which make you weak at the knees, all a fluster and wondering whether the menopause has come on early. It's not shots of the latest polo players (although sometimes these can be nice too. Google Facundo Pieres. Trust me. Do it now. Even you boys), oh no, today was a little more A List than that. 

Today, David Beckham came through on the email courtesy of Natalie at Massey PR. There he was, just on my lap... I mean server. In all his glory sporting the latest Breitling Chronograph. The timepiece is beautiful, but David's is the face you really want to watch. 

Snow Not So Angels

Waking up to a winter wonderland still gives us all that Christmas morning feeling – I don't care how cool you are or how often you hit the slopes in Val. 

Yesterdays main mission – other than trying to dig the car out to try and get to the office – was finding a decent location and more importantly, a decent sledge to fly over the white hills. Location was easy but the improvised place mat/plastic bag sledge was a bit of a non-starter. Literally. 

Fortunately the local children were on hand and, I presume, had been good last year and had sledges from Santa. Although I had thought that I may have to mug them for a go, they were actually very sweet (read monosyllabic pre-pubescents) and readily let me mount the steed and whizz off in a flurry of snow flakes. I returned breathless and thrilled with my mascara streaming down my face and a desperate wish that there was a pub in the village. 

Today was more about manning the camera. 

So roll on those thermals, pull on those boots, don that super saucy beanie hat and come with me for a ramble in the snow.

My housemate, Shelle - check out her blog: My Boiled Egg & Soldiers

Credit where credit's due: Me!