Tag Archives: Topshop

Cap & Gown

A friendly note to all graduates…….

Graduation is a special time…you’ve worked hard….some for 5/6 years or more to gain your degree…your passport to a life filled with abundant wealth and a multitude of opportunities. Your family travel far and wide to celebrate your achievement and your parents brag, quite rightly to anyone who’ll listen about just how fabulous you are!

So for the love of Lagerfeld please don’t lower the tone of such a momentous occasion by draping your beautifully starched, well-earned gowns over dresses fit for pole dancing and heels that even MoneySuperMarket Dave wouldn’t be seen dead in. Why…why? You’re in a bloody big church surrounded by 4 thousand other students, families and staff, yet you feel its appropriate to wear a white body-con dress with mesh panels so tight I could see what you ate for lunch! The guys aren’t much better either! Are you going straight from graduation to a Bugsy Malone convention? No? So why all the gangster pinstripe suits and yes….one lad even wore the matching hat! Nee Naw Nee Naw…..take him away officer!

I never use the blog to hate on people, I’d never take photo’s and shame like the tabloids used to at the Grand National because I do believe that if you think you look good then you should rock it! BUT NOT AT GRADUATION! Your parents (most likely) have just paid a whopping £100 for one photo of you in your way over priced cap and gown with the pretend degree scroll they give you and I will bet you a lottery win that looking back you’ll be mortified that you dressed like it was 11pm on a Friday night…..and not 4pm on a Thursday afternoon with your Nan smiling proudly by your side!

Do me (and future you) a favour and get yourself down to TopShop for a jumpsuit and brogues.

‘We could’ve been anything that we wanted to be’

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Best Foot Forward

Over the last year I have suffered a brutal break up, I’ve kept a dignified silence on my social media accounts and even attempted reconciliation..but here’s the truth…I’ve broken up with shoes. I mean obviously I still wear them. I’m all for starting new trends but going barefoot in a big sprawling city is unlikely to catch on.

In my late teens I was swept off my feet. Finally freed from the school regulation low heel brogues and ballet flats, I fell in love with brands like Dune, Jones The Boot-maker and Ravel. l owned 130 pairs of shoes by my 17th birthday…..a constant source of drama between emerging fashionista and my practical shoe wearing, shift-working mum. Being taller than your average 17-year-old sixth-former (5ft 10′) I instantly loved wearing heels to further enhance my height and my passion for Mary-Jane’s showed no signs of slowing as I transitioned into my twenties and the world of office wear. I’d look down on those wearing kitten heels to work, thinking i was superior for being able to wear heels for the 9-5 day. I felt unstoppable.

The relationship grew intense with purchases of high-end, iconic footwear to mark the biggest events of my twenties. Dolce & Gabbana neon strappy heels, Vivienne Westwood pirate boots and a pair of the most stunning gold Gina courts among a sea of weekly high street purchases from River Island, Topshop and New Look…..I bought a designer pair for each of my children coming into the world (a Hallmark card clearly wouldn’t do)  I routinely take them from their dust covers now and admire them. (The shoes, not my kids)

So what changed, where did it all go wrong? In a nutshell I stopped making an effort for my shoes…and myself. I let myself get out of shape and stopped dressing up as much. I found solace in Nike and Converse, addicted to the comfort and less likely to break an ankle benefits of wearing flat shoes again. I also have a double Phil & Teds buggy to contend with on a daily basis and the 4 mile nursery/school round trip would take me twice as long in a pair of KG platforms. I felt resentful. Heels are a nuisance in my busy world of being a mum and championship multi-tasker. Elated to read about celebs breaking with tradition and rules at Cannes and rocking metallic, jeweled flats on the red carpet, I was convinced that it’s perfectly fine to live in flat shoes…

But oh the glamour of a svelte black platform court with a seductive red sole and those beautifully cursive letter spelling out Christian Louboutin…Carrie Bradshaw’s midnight blue jewel encrusted Manolo’s…..even Cinderella had it nailed back in 1950…… Oh heels I miss you!

Now that I’ve succumbed to practicality I realise just how much joy I gained from wearing impractical shoes. My confidence soared, my legs looked great and I felt young.

I’ve vowed to change, I’m only 32, we can get back to the good old times, I’m sure. By way of counselling I’ve booked myself and my favourite D&G neon’s into The V&A Shoes: Pleasure & Pain exhibition to rediscover my passion……and possibly my youth.

Wish me luck

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,