The wonderings, ponderings and other 'ings' of me. Lifestyle, review, news and opinion posts. Chic with a hint of sarcasm... hopefully!

Sunday 28 April 2013

Reportage: Vogue Fest.

Vogue Fest landed at the South Bank Centre this weekend and braid bars (where vogue workers braided your hair) and Dior make up counters (self-explanatory) were available for you to experiment with before mocking up a “Vogue Cover” of your new look.  Over the weekend speakers of a particularly high calibre (Alexa Chung, Daisy Lowe, Michael Kors and Victoria Beckham to name a few) converged at Queen Elizabeth Hall to discuss their various life experiences.
Happy Looking Camper!

There are few things that will get me up before 7am on Sunday (holiday flights, house fires, urges to puke from hangovers) but now Vogue fest has the dubious honour of being added to that list as at 6.50 this am my alarm went off. As it turned out I didn’t need it anyway (I blame Charlie Brooker and finally getting round to watching his soul damaging Black Mirror for my lack of shut eye).

The morning got off to a dodgy start when my barnet, which yesterday behaved impeccably, today was the hair embodiment of a screaming snot dribbling toddler.  Make-up wasn’t sitting well on my tired eyes either and played sulky teenager when I tried to apply it. But no matter, the fashion pack are notoriously forgiving of your appearance… aren’t they?
Dior Make Up Stands

The first part of the day was spent eavesdropping on the conversations around us.  The girl in front of me at the Vogue CafĂ© was distraught at there not being skimmed milk available, though only too happy to add a Vogue muffin to her breakfast.
Queing for Cover Shoot
 Attending the Vicky B talk (my sister has major girl crush on her) we found our seats and discussed how the crowd was predominately dressed sombrely with the odd flashes of colour.  A sea of black leather jackets and skinny jeans sat before us “no individuality anymore” I sagely commented before remembering my own outfit and taking off my black leather jacket so that my hypocrisy was camouflaged (well at least I got the uniform right).

VB was surprisingly witty “When I moved into fashion there were quite a few raised eyebrows… well those that could raise them did anyway” and managed to come across in a genuine manner.  She even took the opportunity to chastise her son Brooklyn, who had accompanied her, for not going to bed on time and to speak of the respect she had for her mum, who was also there and looking after the aforementioned American state/son. 

Strangely, after showing her creations and being wildly successful for 10 years, VB is still rather defensive of the input she has in her line and how involved she is in its fruition. “Marc (Jacobs) tells me I have to stop saying the industry left their preconceptions at the door for those first few shows, that they didn’t but that it was the clothes that spoke for themselves”.  And I find myself agreeing with him, the dress that Vic wore for the interview from her Autumn/Winter 2013 line looked immaculate.  Flattering when she sat down and almost completely un-creased when she stood up again (as it was over £1000 I expect it also turns into a 'hover dress' at the press of a button.)

The overall feel of the event was a lot less frantic, more chilled than I expected.  Granted, I'd have liked to see a few more opportunities to purchase items or experiment with fashion than was available, but all in all Vogue Fest is definitely an event I will look out for in the future.  If only to try and attend more than one of the workshop (and eat another of those tasty banana muffins!)

Tuesday 9 April 2013

Morons In Chelsea II

It’s back, the programme I thought wouldn’t get past series 1 has reached its 5th Series! Not only can I admit I was very very wrong on that front but I can also say I find this reality show (which we all know is about as ‘real’ as Katie Price’s bresticals!) mind-numbingly addictive.

MIC got one thing right in-between series one and two.  It started taking the piss out of itself and with that the posh twats we allowed into our lounges were no longer objects of envy but comic geniuses (I’m talking about you Francis). Let’s dig into some of my favourite characters to love (and hate)

First the goodies:

Now here’s a sweetie that, so far, has yet to display a modicum of nastiness (which considering the circle she moves in is pretty amazing).  She’s managed to stand up for herself when the peter-pan like Jamie made the whole country want to strangle him with his do I/don’t I love you ways last season and has shown that posh but daft sense of humour off brilliantly.  

Francis (both of them: Boulle and Mark)

Francis Boulle has definitely upped his game this season (I think its cos Sophia popped his cherry so now he’s not all amphibian on amphetamines when in the presence of ladies.   He managed to hold his own against Spencer, isn’t all that concerned with being popular and though at times he looks to be in need of a full time carer is skateboarding his way into our hearts.

Mark Francis (MF)

The one the posh people think of as posh has the comic timing of Tommy Cooper (just better dressed and ya’know less dead).  MF left his front door open because the maid had gone to South of France (or somewhere) and couldn’t possibly mange to open the door by himself and henceforth was crowned MIC King.  Somewhat asexual in his attitude to life (one imagines sex to be far too messy for MF to get involved with) he livens up what can at times be dull as ditchwater conversations with his witticisms.  The only downside is his obsession about staying friends with Victoria.  Which leads me neatly into…

The baddies:


This woman hasn’t a good word to say about anyone (other than MF) and there is no point, story or character to this D lister.  She’s even started copying her arch enemy Mille Macintosh by wearing different hats because people love Mille and the general consensus of Victoria is that she should do womankind a huge favour, stick her witchlike hands in the nearest electrical socket and cease to exist.


Never has one girl done so much to detract from the entire Women’s Lib stuff that was fought out by Pankhurst than this girl.  When last we saw Louise she was throwing something at her douche of a boyfriend, we're not quire sure what but suspect it was her dignity. Emily would not only be spinning in her grave I wouldn’t be surprised if she found the gumption to get up and zombie her way over to Chelsea and eat Louise’s brains (a muscle quite unused by the young girl) thereby saving us from having to listen to her whining, whingey clingy crying ways AAAAANYMORE!


Not since a different Spencer ‘graced’ our reality screens has there been such a knob jockey on the TV.  This guy may as well twirl his moustache and tie his girlfriend (the aforementioned Louise) to the train tracks he’s such a caricature villain.  The greasiness of his hair is only matched by that of his persona and how he gets so many girls to fall for his (ahem) charms is beyond me (they must have had their brains removed and eaten by the Zombie Pankhurst I was rambling about earlier), the very sight of this fish eyed fuck face with his scarily controlling treatment of women, screwed up logic and catastrophically bad dress sense has me reaching for a large bread knife with which to get all stabby-up-in-here… and breathe*!

Despite all this, the magic of MIC is that no one makes most people I know, mine H (though he swears its only to ridicule) or even me watch it but we all do.  And while it may be complete trash, in loving to laugh at and deliciously hating the characters in the show, it’s managed the unthinkable.  It makes me actually look forward to Mondays.

Well that and Game of Thrones – now there’s a cross over that needs to happen!

*I borrowed that saying from here as it perfectly describes my feelings. This blog is the bollocks and I doubt I’ll ever be this funny.  You should all read it!

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