Month: December 2015

Colour, I Fear You Not

When it comes to wearing colour, there are three categories of people.   Those who embrace it wholeheartedly, happily mixing not just two but four, sometimes five, different colours all into one same outfit.  Oftentimes throwing in a pattern or print into the mix just for the fun of it. Then there are those who, while not partial to a rainbow parade for a single look, approach colour with the comfort and ease of meeting an old friend.  There is confidence in strategically using colour as an accent point.  Or to deliver a message. And then we have the group of souls who revels in a monochromatic world.  A world dominated by black and by white.  With grey or beige or the deepest, darkest of blue making the occasional cameo.  Colour doesn’t show up here very often. Personally, I fall somewhere in between the last two categories.  My wardrobe is no longer completely dominated by blacks (see, that there is a Mustard-coloured sleeve peeking out), and I’m not all that intimidated by colour any more.  …

The Fab 40s In Faux Fur

Nearly 100 million Americans think buying and wearing fur is “morally wrong, what do you think?   Personally, I don’t have any objections either way, a sentiment you’ve heard me express before in the past.  Granted, real fur isn’t for everyone and for those who have made the decision not to wear it, I most certainly respect that.  By the same token, I firmly believe that they too, in turn, ought to respect the rights of those who choose real fur. While no one bats an eyelid when animal rights activists vocalise their choices and opinions, I’ve always wondered why I’ve had to defend my decision to wear fur.  Why the fear of disapprobation is (very often) enough to keep me and my coat from venturing out in public together.  True, in Houston, temperatures don’t really dip all that low to justify putting on my coat, and answering shitloads of questions about my choice of outerwear. That said, there are days when a poor circulatory system means my fingers and toes are perpetually cold, and …

Bomb Diggity Denim Jacket

When it comes to denim, there are a few things we’ve come to expect.   Warm weather-appropriate cuts. Separates, dresses and accessories that are as appealing as they are comfortable, lightweight pieces ideal for layering in transitional temperatures. But that isn’t to say we don’t constantly crave (seek out, even) elements of newness, to stand apart within that world of chambray and blue. And that’s especially the case when it comes to denim jackets.  Anyone who says differently needs a schmack on their Pinocchio noses.  I’m just sayin’. It’s clear that to create a truly successful denim look, one has to be able to achieve a harmonious boy-meets-girl aesthetic.  Be it that the more tomboyish fabric (otherwise known as denim), gets a sweet update in terms of trims or cuts, or that ultra feminine silhouettes the likes of dresses and long skirts are fabricated from what’s traditionally-a-man-ish-fabric-called-denim. It’s all about a feminine tweak here and a bit of experimentation there.  Take for instance this bomber jacket.  It’s a 2-in-1 concoction.  The Grey flannel vest with …

The Mineral Difference

When it comes to mineral make-up, I am about as clueless as can be.   Let’s go back 20 years ago when I bought my very first compact, the MAC Studio Fix Powder Plus Foundation which was, in essence, a 2-way cake.  Having never used make-up prior to that, I bought every sales pitch coming out of Ginger’s mouth (my MAC salesperson) and went home with a bag of stuff.  Like a mountain of stuff which I ended up not using because (a) I’m lazy; (b) I had no idea which was for what; and (c) I forgot I even had them. Anyway, the point here is that I used my MAC compact religiously for so many years, through different skin tones (cringe), and I have to say, I really hated it. It was gunky and yucky.  It looked fake and dated.  I looked fake and dated. It was only when I moved to the States in 2010 did I pluck up the courage to ask the MAC sales people (not Ginger, this time it …

Of Capes & 221B Baker Street

There’s something about in-your-face-red-streaks. Streaks in one’s hair, I mean. Not on the face.   For one, it’s hard to be missed in a crowd which may not seem major to most but is, in truth, rather vital for someone who’s only 5 feet tall.  Yes, I’m the one with her feet on the bench when doing barbell presses for the pecs.  Stop laughing.  It’s not always easy being on the starting end of the measuring tape. But this post is about capes.  And the occasional crusading.  Not about my height.  Or lack thereof.  So we move on. I’ve had a thing for capes (or, if you prefer, trench coats with capes) since 1983, since my first Sherlock Holmes tome, The Hound Of The Baskervilles.  Capes and bags shaped after what’s arguably the most iconic coat in modern television folklore. But, of course, I wasn’t about to put together an outfit post too closely based on Mr Holmes’ wardrobe.  The man had an air of mystery and intrigue in spades, a certain sense of savoir …

Kicking It

This year, I’ve stepped outside my box quite a few times.   First there were those jogger pants (I blame you, Liyana).  Then that thing with jumpsuits which occurred here, here and here (all thanks to Annie).  And now, my second time with sneakers.  I must admit it’s rather gratifying that we can pull on a pair of sneakers with just about anything and (usually) be considered on trend and, gasp, stylish even?  Some fads can be fun, huh. That being said, I don’t quite know when (if ever) I’ll be on that bandwagon for pencil skirts (I can’t find one that looks halfway decent on me) or for celebrate flats the way some of my peers do.  I just can’t.  I can, however, relish in wearing sneakers, both in and out of the gym.  Sportwear and streetwear have become so intertwined that there’s hardly any difference between the two anymore. In sadder news, temperatures in Houston have been escalating of late and that makes me very unhappy.  I honestly thought I’d have a little …

Kiss From A Rose

The words “cleansing” and “oil” coming together in a single sentence used to be foreign to me, and, I’m certain, for many others unaccustomed to the concept of slathering a gunky, greasy commodity in the name of detoxification, regeneration and, on a whole, keeping those signs of age at bay. I kid you not. Let’s get into the nitty gritty for a bit. Why oil, you ask?   01 Oils can be used day or night. 02 The right face oil can benefit any skin type, yes, even acne-prone. 03 Face oils help the skin retain moisture and stay hydrated all day long. 04 Oils deliver moisture and radiance without residue. 05 Oils reduce the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles by virtue of anti-oxidants and other powerful anti-aging ingredients. 06 Many face oils have aromatherapy benefits and they can lift or calm your mood, depending on the scent. These formulas – perfect for a wide variety of skin types – use gentle, oil-based formulas to remove dirt, surface oil, seriously-stay-put makeup and pollution while …

Faux Real

Fur has always been a point of contention in the catty dramatic world of fashion.   Some view as fur as being luxurious,  a symbol of social status more often than not associated with glamour, the fast life and lavish spending.  Yet others reject it due to moral beliefs and perceived cruelty to animals (British fashion designer and outspoken animal rights activist Stella McCartney comes to mind). Did you know that in terms of apparel construction, there are so many additional considerations when working with fur?  For instance, one has to be extraordinarily careful about weight, bulk and line.  Or that a toile for a fur coat has to be cut far larger than for a silk one?  It’s about the meticulous reassembly of small strips to preserve the continuity of the fur stripe and other features of the piece, resulting in a fabric of fur as versus an jigsaw puzzle of pelts and bits. Whatever your viewpoint on fur, the fact remains that it’s very striking, and undeniably unforgettable. While I’m neither for nor …

Fuzzy, Shaggy, Furry Baby

You’ve heard me gripe about Houston’s schizophrenic weather before and how temperatures can soar into dizzily hot levels, even during Winter.  In truth, I don’t get many opportunities to wear anything thick since sweater weather doesn’t happen all that often in the South.  However, that has not been the case over the last week or so. Thank you lord.   From now until the middle of next week (insert groan), I’ll have my pick of the fuzzy, the shaggy and the furry which I love.  Today was a little on the warmer side so it wasn’t quite the moment to go full tilt bundled up (Asian dumplings don’t do too well in that department seeing how we’re very often too vertically challenged to pull off as many layers, unless, of course, you’re Chriselle, jelly) so I went with a token touch of faux fur. It’s a grandfather cardigan.  Point of trivia – the cardigan was named after  James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, a British Army Major General who led the Charge of the Light …