The Licentiate

So, this is it...

2011-06-16T15:10:00.000+01:00

... you and me, Blogger, we used to get along.

I really liked how easy you made design and layout. I liked how free and all-inclusive you were.

But then something changed. You changed. First my stats went down, then skyrocketed. For no reason whatsoever. My friends can't leave comments on posts. For days on end, I can't sign into my own blog.

Things have changed. I've found someone else. I've moved on.

to http://www.thelicentiate.com. That's right. The Licentiate dot com.

Things might look a little rough now, but they'll improve once I get the web people in. Then things will start to look a little bit like before. There'll be giveaways and competitions and outfit posts and all kinds of shenanigans. Oh yes.

To the people who read this blog - thank you so much for following me. You people are the best. Every time I get a positive post I feel absolutely fantastic (you can blame this on low self-esteem). Please come read over at the new address. There should be a new post up right... now.

If you want to be friends on facebook, click here.
If you want to connect on twitter, click here.

The comments are off. You know where to find me.

The Last Picture Show: The most stylish film you've never heard of

2011-06-14T15:25:00.001+01:00

Showing this week at the Triskel is Peter Bogdanovich's classic The Last Picture show, which celebrates it's 40th birthday this year.

It's one of my favourite films. Based in rural Texas is the early 1950's (an incredibly baby-faced) Jeff Bridges and Timothy Bottoms star as two high-school seniors poised on the brink of a very depressing adulthood. It's sad and it's beautiful and it's painfully real.

The set designs and costumes by Bogdanovich's wife Polly Platt (he would later leave her for Cybill Shepard, the ingenue of the film - she apparantly had affairs with Bridges and Bottoms during filming as well, which must have been a fun environment to work in) are some of the best to be seen in films and marked a turning point for realism in the cinema.

Up until 1970, costumes for period dramas were pretty contrived. Platt made the characters look realistic and unobtrusively stylish at the same time, which complements Bogdanovich's genius eye for a composition. At the time of filming Orson Welles was living with Bogdanovich and Platt and I think the influence really shows. Here are a few pictures.

This film is every west-coast style blogger's inspiration; slouchy cool and a touch of urban decay and general apathy. It looks a bit like Band of Outsiders lookbook - forty years before Band of Outsiders was even thought of.

Debbie Reynolds' costume auction

2011-06-12T16:17:00.002+01:00

On the 18th of June, Debbie Reynolds (from Singin' in the Rain and also known as Carrie Fisher off Star Wars' overbearing mother) will be auctioning off her collection of film costumes and memorobilia. She initially tried to find a single museum buyer but, sadly, that didn't happen and now her huge collection will be sold off piecemeal.

I really hope that some of her items do turn up in a museum, because she owns some astonishing stuff, like Charlie Chaplin's bowler hat, Laurel and Hardy's suits, dresses worn by Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady, that dress worn by Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch (you know the one...) and a pair of Dorothy's ruby slippers.

She also has the curtain-material playsuits worn by the Von Trapp Family Singers in The Sound Of Music. Joy. Actual joy.

You can download the catalogue online. Here are a few items I would buy for sentimental or pure greedy reasons if I had the funds. This is just a small smattering, because the catalogue is a whopping 319 pages long.

Thanks to Penny Dreadful Vintage for bringing this to my attention.

Marion Davies monumental oil painting by Federico Beltran Masses from Davies’ estate

'Messala' historic winged charioteer helmet rom the 1925 Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ

Left - Eleanor Powell “Clare Bennett” black velvet jacket designed by Adrian in Broadway Melody of 1940. Right - Jean Hagen “Lina Lamont” camel coat with monkey-fur collar from Singin’ in the Rain.

Carole Lombard 'Connie Randall' gown by Travis Banton from No Man of Her Own

Left - Debbie Reynolds “Kathy Selden” green & white leaf patterned sleeveless dress from Singin’ in the Rain. Right - Ginger Rogers “Dinah Barkley” gold lamé dress from Barkleys of Broadway

Rita Hayworth “Maribelle Hicks” two-piece dress from Cover Girl.

Left - Susan Hayward “Jane Froman” pastel rainbow-hued ball gown from With a Song in My Heart, right - Jane Wyman “Belinda McDonald” green dress and tan sweater from Johnny Belinda. If you haven't seen Johnny Belinda, watch it asap. You will cry buckets.

Emerald-green felt “Ozmite” jacket designed by Adrian from The Wizard of Oz.

Go on, guess which film these costumes are from.

Cleopatra large-scale original concept painting of Elizabeth Taylor “Cleopatra” in her Alexandria apartment

Cleopatra large-scale original concept painting of Antony and Cleopatra on her royal barge by Ed Graves

Cleopatra large-scale original concept painting of a harbor scene by Duilio Savina

Related #4: Made In Cork

2011-06-11T14:56:00.000+01:00

This is a very belated related post (ooh, rhymes).
Adding on from last week's post on the Cork Fashion Week launch, here are a few pictures of the newly-refurbished Triskel Christchurch building, which will tentatively host the opening and closing nights.

The Christchurch building has been in Cork in some incarnation for around a thousand years or so. It's a former church (no big surprise there) and it is thought that the poet Spenser was married at the location.

The weight of history aside, it's a beautiful building that has been lovingly restored and is the lynchpin in Cork's cultural life, playing host to cult record shop Plugd and cafe Gulpd, art gallery The Black Mariah and as a music venue and arthouse cinema in the main building. They also have catacombs if you're of a morbid persuasion (like me).

A Fashion week event would look amazing here. Bet the last pastor never thought of that.

For more on the Triskel Arts Centre, click on their website.
For more about the building and refurbishment, click here.

Photos 1,4,5 from here.
Photos 2,3 from here.

Related #5: Clothing as Memory

2011-06-10T16:07:00.000+01:00

If you read yesterday's post, then you'll know what this photo is about.

This photo was restored by one of my aunt's friends after she posted the picture on facebook - a really nice gesture. My grandfather would have been 85 last week. He was born on the same day as Marilyn Monroe. Truefax.

I'm usually fine with people reblogging my pictures, but this is a family photo, so please don't copy and paste this. If you like it, then share the link. Thank you.

Licentiate Column 09/06/11: Clothing as Memory

2011-06-09T09:00:00.001+01:00

How do you remember people? Do you use mnemonics, or acronyms or mind mapping? Or are you one of those people who has an eye for the little details? Is it the face you remember, or the voice, or the perfume?
Memory is a funny thing. Anything can trigger a once-buried picture into either painful or joyous resurrection from the deepest, darkest regions of the hippocampus or temporal lobe.

In a hens-teeth email from my father (as in ‘as rare as..’) he wondered what images of him were built in the minds of close friends and family.

We had just been sent a picture of my grandparents when they were both very young. My grandfather is impossibly chiseled in white tie and tails. My grandmother is radiant in floor length chiffon, blissfully unaware of just how many children she’s going to have. It is Christmas Eve. She is sporting a brand new engagement ring. They are both very happy.

They are not the parents my father remembers. He remembers my grandfather with a perpetual cigarette in his right hand. I barely remember him, because he died when I was very small.

It’s the little details that you remember, the trivia that acts as infill and enriches the bigger pictures. You might remember a person’s filthy anecdotes, you might remember their grating verbal tics. All of it adds up to a memory. I remember a person’s clothes.

It might seem shallow to see the world through material things (in both the literal and figurative sense) but your memory glues itself to the aspects of a person to which you pay the most attention. It seems that I’ve been a clothes monomaniac since conception.

My father? Shirts. Floral shirts form Liberty, stripes by Paul Smith. My mother? Black Agnes b and rows of jersey wrap dresses hanging in their dry cleaning bags. My brother is tracksuit pants occasionally tucked into socks, my sisters are cocktail dresses and bright, Alexander Wang-ish vests, the collars slightly blemished by the odd dab of foundation. My mother’s mother is a pair of neatly ironed slacks in stone and olive.

It’s this way of thinking that leads me and many others to believe in the importance of vintage clothing. Every piece tells a story. It might mean nothing you you, but that tie belonged to a father, a brother. Even though they may have discarded it, it can still hold some powerful and distinctive memories for another person (if not a powerful and distinctive odour). That Penneys top may be super-cheap and on-trend, but is it really that special? Is it the stuff that memories are made of?

This isn’t a diatribe against cheap clothing and for designer goods, it’s a call to realise how important old clothes are. Because, when a loved one leaves you, what are you left with? There’s you. There is a full, yet empty wardrobe. And there are your memories.

Licentiate Column 02/06/11: Made In Cork

2011-06-02T12:03:00.000+01:00

Cork Fashion Week is a bit of a misnomer. A fashion week is industry only. In Cork, shows are ticketed and open to all. The clothes you see on a runway are shown six months ahead of production. What you see in Milan in February, you won’t see in Brown Thomas until September. In Cork, what you see is already, or very soon to be manufactured. Fashion weeks are intense, fraught and cloaked in mystique, albeit a mystique that dissolves a little bit as each season passes.

In Cork, we take a much more leisurely pace. It’s both our idiosyncratic advantage and the perpetual pebble in our shoe.

It was with that in mind that I went to ‘Made in Cork: A Prequel to Cork Fashion Week’ in the Woodford Bar last Sunday. As I was waiting to go in, a possibly drunk, possibly homeless man tried to climb a tall, spiked, wrought-iron gate opposite the bar. He made a decent go of it, but impaled himself in the groin over two spikes and had to be lifted off the gate by a bartender and a slightly wobbly passer-by, who managed the whole procedure with a cigarette clamped between his teeth.

A Garda van pulled up, obscuring the view. Then, the sound of denim ripping and a very loud, sharp intake of breath. It was time to go inside. An inauspicious start in any circumstance.

I hoped that this wouldn’t be the marker for the event. Taking a seat inside the smoking area afforded the best views and elbow room, so that was where I sat myself, with a notebook, an unfortunate looking BIC pen and an endless supply of fizzy pop.

The crowd was a mix of models, photographers, fashion lovers and one small, very bored looking boy in Communion garb. Unlike London fashion week, where everyone is stressed beyond belief, the attendees looked genuinely happy. They were smiling, greeting each other with hugs, buying pints (of champagne), trading bon mots and making plans for the evening.

It was as if they were actually glad to be there (with the exception of Communion Boy, who had a pout that Andre Leon Talley would spontaneously combust with jealousy over). This is not the fashion week the world was used to. I was bamboozled. Pleasantly bamboozled.

The first half of the show was excellent. Trends were expertly curated. The preppy looks were a particular favourite - all white jeans and jumpers casually knotted over shoulders, ready for a game of tennis in the Hamptons. The vintage dress selection from Miss Daisy Blue was excellent as usual, with a mix of psychedelic print maxis, prom dress and LBDs that looked classically and contemporary.

It’s always good to see something grow and expand. I’m very proud to have been a witness of such growth from Cork Fashion Week’s inception. This September promises to be the most diverse and exciting Fashion Week yet.

Each year it gets a little bit bigger and, as Cork become even more creative and focused on fashion niches, the community at large adapts and rallies around it. Even if it’s something as ridiculous as lifting a stuck wino off a gate.

African Wax Fabrics

2011-05-31T09:00:00.002+01:00

My first proper boyfriend lived in Ghana for a year. In our emails back and forth he would tell me about the food, the nightlife and the time he drunkenly passed out at a party at the Irish Consulate in Accra.

Reading back over his emails from five years ago, it's clear that Ghana is an incredible country with Everest-type highs and supertrough lows. Floods, typhoid and the odd Internet cafe going on fire are recurring motifs in the emails. But then again, so are friendly, welcoming people, sporting tradition and the merits of river boiled kenki.

He never told me about the fabric though.

Wax fabric is predominantly made in Ghana and is responsible for some of the trippiest, brightest, graphic prints available in the world today. The prints can be abstract, but are usually full of signs and symbols denoting a persons social status, political affiliations or general likes.

African art has a tendency towards the literal and these prints follow on from that. With the popularisation of wax printing, more and more prints are devoted to technology and commerce. You can buy Pop Art-ish yards of fabrics stamped with lipsticks, batteries, car mufflers, chickens and irons.

I love the pure, flat joy of these prints. It's only a matter of time before a label like Proenza Schouler or Erdem picks these brights up and works them into a Spring/Summer collection (fingers crossed).

There are already Western designers that work with these fabrics, but I'm yet to see a top or dress that justifies the fabric and brings out the best in it. Is it just me or is a lot of this clothing, I don't know, a little bit... patronising? Or self-congratulatory? People need to get out of the mindset that Africa is synonymous with charity - then we'll stop treating their indigenous goods like another person's cast-offs and give it the shape and beauty these prints deserve.

To see more, go to the African Fabric Flickr pool

Photos 1-4 from here. Photos 5-8 from here.

Cecil Beaton Book Covers

2011-05-29T15:20:00.000+01:00

I found these while combing through the internet for an out-of-print book. If you're looking for something that's that bit to hard to find, ABE Books is the place to go. On their homepage was a feature on the books and illustrations of Cecil Beaton.

If you're like me and know close to nothing about Beaton, then this post by The Selvedge Yard is an excellent place to start.

I just love these covers. Now I just need a spare two and a half thousand dollars to buy a clean copy of Cecil Beaton's New York and see what's inside the beautiful watercolour dustjacket.

All pictures from ABE Books (this isn't a sponsored post, by the way)

P.S How great a title is 'My Bolivian Aunt'?
P.P.S You'd be surprised where you'd find copies of these books. Check your local library - you might be surprised.

Related #3: Do it like a Dude

2011-05-27T09:00:00.003+01:00

Yesterday's post dealt with women who dress like men, or don't (Queen Elizabeth II of Great Britain, I'm a-looking at you) to assert their power.

But where there are Queens, there are Kings...

And where there is power, there is also subservience...

So, to veer insanely from one end of a spectrum to another, here are some pictures of women who dress like men to show their love for a man. Like a king. The King, in fact.

These photos were taken by Grey Villet in 1957 for TIME Magazine. They show a day in the life of Susan Hull, who has decided to take the plunge and get an Elvis-style pompadour, joining the thousand strong ranks of girls and women in Grand Rapids, Michigan, who love Elvis so much that they want to look like him.

If you want to put it in a modern context, imagine thousands of femme Justin Beiber fans, all with the same, super feathery, peekaboo, come-hither (but not too close, I'm a good Christian) hair*. Just for the love of the Biebs. Have you shuddered? Has an icy cold finger of revulsion crawled down your back? Good, let's look at the pictures.

All captions from the original article (because they're hilarious)

Susan Hull looks apprehensive as beautician prepare to form lock into Presley sidecurl

IN NEW GLORY: Nancy Hull happily shows off Presley cut. Beautician who created style stresses convenience for girls who like swimming without caps.

CONFRONTING FATHER outside the beauty shop. Susan Hull (left) and her sister Nancy, 20, display haircuts. He was noncommital about new style.

COMFORTING MOTHER, Susan promises not to have her brown hair dyed black. After showing cut to family, she gave ponytail to 4-year old brother.

CONVINCING SWEETHEART, Susan explains her coiffure to her beau Lew Potter in Motorcycle shop. At first he threatened to break their next date.

CLIPPED GALLERY sits for a group portrait in Didgson's beauty shop. The sideburns are standard but the number of stray locks on foreheads is optional

Read the original article here.

*Lesbians who look like Justin Beiber notwithstanding. The Lesbiebers are awesome.

Licentiate Column 26/05/11: Do it Like a Dude

2011-05-26T09:00:00.001+01:00

It’s not often that you’ll picture The Queen (of Great Britain, natch) and Jessie J in the same room, let alone the same thought, but lately I’ve had the two on the brain. One is a monarch, the other one is not. But they both do it like a dude.

Elizabeth II is one of only eight disputed premier queens to ascend to the throne since 1066 and has somehow managed not to be overthrown, arrested after nine days, dominated by her husband or die of dropsy - which is no mean feat in itself. Jessie J is not that important when it comes to explaining myself, but her song is.

Elizabeth II is one of those rare breeds of women - the women of the old guard who don’t have to resort to trousers to assert their power. The royal wardrobe has always been sleek, tailored, severe - but never masculine. It’s all kitten heels and handbags at dawn, the contents of which are often disputed. I’m thinking a paisley-upholstered hipflask of scotch, some menthol cigarillos and a filofax with the nasty details and unlisted numbers of every PM, baron and magnate alive today. And a lipstick.

When most women look to protect themselves, whether it’s protecting your interests in business or your modesty on a blustery day, a woman will wear trousers. If not trousers, a suit of some kind. Lines are sharp, shades are assertive in their boldness. No pastels for the bright women warriors of today, for she is strong and deserves a strong colour. Also, light colours stain so easily don’t they?

Dressing in the conventional masculine sense is spread over a broad spectrum. On one end, you have a pair of jeans. A person almost forgets that jeans were worn by men before they were assimilated into the murky genderless, unisex realm. On the other end are the unashamed, unabashed, totally admirable drag kings, who stuff tube socks down their trousers (not unlike some men, the Loose Women-watching part of me wants to add) and dot stubble and goatees on their faces with the precision of a Renaissance master.

Somewhere in the middle is my favourite kind of androgyne - Marlene Dietrich in a tux. Masculine tailoring meets a feminine figure, with perfected painted eyes, coiffed hair and heeled shoes. With the coming of YSL’s Le Smoking suit in 1966, it was official: Suits are sexy.

Women dress in the male/female dichotomy for a multitude of reasons. Some do it for fashion, some for function, some for self-expression. Many women are not aware of the gender implications of buttoning up a shirt.

Some wear masculine tailoring as a type of armour. It says, “I am powerful. I mean business”. On the flipside, it also highlights our own vulnerabilities. Are we so afraid of being powerless that we refuse to be feminine?

The Queen knows better. After almost sixty years as a titular head of stare, she knows that power is not necessarily in the way that you dress. Clothes do not necessarily maketh the (wo)man. Sometimes trousers are good for nothing but outdoor pursuits.

A queenly caveat, though - if there’s a dress code, you’d better stick to it. Watch your step,
Kate Middleton.

Wishlist

2011-05-24T09:00:00.001+01:00

Barbour

Hassan Rahim at Blood is the New Black

Beat Up Creations

Pippa Lynn

Steve Madden

Danielle Scutt x Freedom at Topshop

Savage Salvage

Théâtre de la Mode

2011-05-22T19:05:00.009+01:00

I saw these on How To Be A Retronaut and they were too good not to share.

The Théâtre de la Mode was brought about at the liberation of Paris in 1944. Parisian fashion houses were only just starting to re-open their doors after several years of limited or non-production.

The purported story is that there wasn't enough fabric to make full-scale dresses, so two feet tall wire models were kitted out with the finest in couture and displayed, first in Paris, then around Europe and North America until their acquisition by the Maryhill Museum of Art in Washington.

More than likely, it was a more cost-effective way to remind the world that Paris was still the epicentre of fashion, despite living through occupation, starvation, oppression and war. While fabric was rationed and still at a premium (especially silk, which was used for parachutes), Parisian women defied the Germans in any way they could, usually by flouting stringent material rationing and wearing dresses and skirts made with yards and yards of whatever they could get their hands on.

Breaking the law and looking chic at the same time - those Parisian women knew their stuff.

The first five photographs were taken by David Seidner in 1990. He deliberately set the dolls in a recognisably French, warlike background. At first, I thought that these photos were taken in the 1940's. In actuality, all 237 (!) dolls were put on display in 1944 as part of a number of scenarios designed by artists like Jean Cocteau, amongst others.

David Seidner, Lucien Lelong, 1990

David Seidner, Balenciaga, 1990

David Seidner, Marcel Dhorme, 1990

David Seidner, Madame Gres, 1990

David Seidner, Robert Piguet, Raphaël, Pierre Balmain, 1990

Jean Cocteau's 1944 setting, Ma Femme est une Sorcière (source)

For more info, read Theatre de la Mode

Related #2: What's Your Time Period?

2011-05-20T09:00:00.002+01:00

If I had to pick a time period, I'd pick the 60's and be a mod. Typical of people who always want that they can't have, I don't have the legs for micro minis and am deathly afraid of scooters (or any two-wheeled transport). I would be a terrible mod.

In yesterday's post, I talked about my dad and the punk movement in Dublin. Any street style phenomenon that predates digital cameras in Ireland is usually woefully underdocumented. Maybe it's because Ireland is such a small country, maybe it's because we're all really lazy - who knows?

On top of that, Mod culture is also woefully underdocumented (at least in comparison with other subcultures like punk) so there's not a lot to go on. But here are a few Mod Links...

Mods go wild in Margate after a clash with rockers (source)

For all things Mod, Modculture is the go-to place.

Polka dot mod mini from Nod to Mod Vintage (could there be a more appropriate name for this shop?)

Do you want to organise your very own Mod Club Night? Click here.

Richard Nicoll's collection for Fred Perry has more than a whiff of Mod to it.

Listen to the Modcast - more music oriented, but worth a listen. Guests have included Matt Berry. Oh Matt. I love your dulcet tones.

Minidress from Hellhound Vintage

From Dave's Mod Photos

Recollections of a Mod life (lots more pics here)

Jumper Dress from Novella Bleu

Licentiate Column 19/05/11: What's Your Time Period?

2011-05-19T09:00:00.003+01:00

Everyone has their time period. This isn't a nod to mortality - although, in the fashion world, trends only live for a few months and some careers at fashion houses, even less. Death isn't really relevant.

When a trend dies or fails to get out of the starter gate it is instantly forgotten about, until a designer runs out of ideas and decides to revive it in lieu of actual creativity. Lest we forget, bulky 70's rainbow crochet and macrame are going to be huge this winter. Apparently.

Some trends never die out. That's because they have more meat and room for maneuvering than the average twice-yearly expelling of stress-induced creative juices from a frazzled designer's brain.

The trend is synonymous to a way of life, a philosophy, a musical style or is a vital part of a rich vein in art or literature. It was not gestated by a figure in the fashion industry, but was definitely popularised by several. It doesn't belong to one person, but is eternally tied to young people - all in their teens and twenties, all growing up in one time period.

Everyone has their time period. Whether it's the one you grew up in or one you wish you were there for, everyone has one. It's half misguided nostalgia, half style inspiration and a liberal seasoning of fantasy.

One friend would have fitted in perfectly with the dying days of the debutante balls, in peach satin and white gloves, one foot in the old world and one foot looking towards a different and wholly brighter tomorrow. Another's anarchic spirit wouldn't be out of place in the Manchester of the early 80's, listening to Joy Division and A Certain Ratio, wearing forest green donkey coats and severe buttoned-up shirts.

Once, my father and I were watching a segment on a current affairs programme about 70's punk in Dublin. "You should have been alive then, Sarah", he said to me. " You would have really fitted in."

It was an observation that stuck with me, because up until then I was unaware that my father was any different at twenty than he was at fifty. In my mind he always wore suits and worked in an office and reserved his best terrible floral shirts on holidays. I never contemplated that he could have gone to see The Clash or worn drainpipe jeans or perhaps even taken some pride in looking a little bit like Paul Weller (yes Dad, I know this is conjecture, but your haircut at the time had a definite Modfather vibe).

Everyone has their time period. If clothes maketh the person, then who are you? Are you a punk? A Fab Fourophile? A 30's screen siren? A make do and mend Blitz babe? Are you into the grunge look? Or your time period the one you live in today?

What will it look like to the next generation? We only have to wait and see.

Kinda Sorta Love...

2011-05-16T16:08:00.000+01:00

...The Eurovision, which for one night only turns everything the most amazing shade of camp. This is the Serbian entry Nina, who sang... er, I have no idea. In my mind, it sounds a bit like this.

Source

Need more pictures of this act. Source

Coloured tights, bright colours, patterns, sharp bobs, heavy eye make-up, micro minis. Remind you of anyone?

Sandie Shaw, Eurovision winner 1967. Source

Related #1: Fashioning Nightwear

2011-05-13T09:00:00.021+01:00

Every so often, I write a column where five hundred words just isn't enough. There's all kinds of pictures and resources that I would love to share. I'm starting a series of posts the day after each column comes out in print (ehm, that's Friday then) with some supplementary material. It won't ebe every Friday, but it will be a recurring thing.

If you read yesterday's post, then you'll know that I don't really take nightwear too seriously. I do, however, have huge love for pajamas. Pajamas are great. The best pajamas are the sartorial equivalent of a hug. The ultimate in loungewear, a nice pair of a pajamas is only one point in the triangle of the perfect relaxing winter evening (the other two points being a hot drink and a good book).

Here's some pajama related information and inspiration.

The Poetry of Pajamas by A.K MacDonald

When Pajamas Weren't the Cat's Pajamas.. Or Were They? from Here's Looking at You, Kid.

Vintage Fashion Guild Guide to Pajamas.

Pauls Stuart Pajamas, the pajama grandaddy (source)

Claudette Colbert in Clark Gable's PJs from It Happened One Night.

Lana Pajama Rama (more here)

1940's Pajama Set from Japan from Moonchild Vintage at Etsy.

Candy Dream 1950's pajamas from Lasthouse at Etsy (very tempted to buy these).

1980's Cabana pajamas from A Hula Girl at Heart at Etsy.

Licentiate Column 12/05/11: Fashioning Nightwear

2011-05-12T09:00:00.003+01:00

What do you wear in bed? Burberry pajamas? Silk kimonos? Calvin briefs? Something saucy by Elle MacPherson or (cue scandalised gasps) Ann Summers?

The politics of nightwear aren’t so much convoluted as they are unexplored. I can’t remember the last time a fashion magazine dedicated a shoot to fashionable nightwear, if ever. I doubt somehow that the sticky subject of what to wear while unconscious and riding the waves of REM has Anna Wintour and Grace Coddington engaged in vicious debate over the best hemline for a babydoll nightie.

A straw poll taken amongst my female friends (the answers the males gave are unfit for print and would probably result in a mental-picture induced fainting fit) revealed that fashion has no place between the sheets, unless grey Marks and Spencers t-shirts are the new Spring/Summer trend that Vogue have unforgivably forgotten to report on.

We already over-analyse what we should wear to weddings, to dates, at work and at play. Why not stir a pot already overloaded with spoons and discuss the ramifications of what you wear in bed? That grey tee will never look the same again.

1) Pajamas. Loose fitting shirt and trousers, often made in a cotton or silk material. A much beloved Christmas present from clueless maiden aunts the words over, pajamas are basically slouchy suits. The pajama is the formal matriarch of the nightwear family. It is staid, perennial and probably best worn in cream silk with reams of pearls, a la Coco Chanel. Here’s a bonus fun fact: Pajamas were, up until the 1940’s, an acceptably chic form of daywear. Those girls who go to Tesco in their best Penney’s piggy print know more than they’re letting on.

2) Baby-doll nighties. Super short, often transparent nightgowns, sometimes sold with matching underwear. Much-maligned, under appreciated and terminally neglected now that suggestion just doesn’t cut it in the sexy stakes, baby-dolls were once the pinnacle of Playboy risque. Modern baby-dolls are close cut on the hips and have slightly seedy connotations. If buying, vintage baby-dolls are your best bet. Be warned, old polyester can scratch like angry sandpaper and if worn by the wrong person, can make you resemble a circus tent with legs.

3) T-shirt and underwear. By far the most popular answer in the straw poll, the thinking behind this combo is that, before bed, you take off everything but your underwear and cotton vest. And that’s it. No effort equals high function and low impact. Many women labour under the thought that this is actually the sexiest option for bed-time attire and they’d be right, unless their partner watches too many exotic films. It’s you with the absolute minimum of clothing on - what’s not for your partner to love?

4) Funzie - The adult version of a onesie, this is best indulged on a lonely night in front of the tv, with a tub of ice cream and a dab of paraphilic infantilism. Just say no.

Backtrack

2011-05-10T09:10:00.001+01:00

I KNOW I said last week that some things were better in black and white, but sometimes you need a colour photograph to really get the full impact of the message. In this case - early photography and national dress.

How many of you have seen black and white pictures of your great-grandparents? Don't you wish you could see what their favourite colours were?

Ireland

Sometimes you don't appreciate how powerful red is until it smacks you in the face. Metaphorically.

This picture was taken in the rural west of Ireland in 1913 and was probably one of the first colour photographs ever taken in Ireland. It is part of the Albert Kahn Archive, just one of over 72,000 colour photographs commissioned in the first three decades of the 20th century in an effort to document all aspects of society and culture. If you don't know much about Kahn and would like to know more, there was a BBC documentary tv series called The Wonderful World of Albert Kahn, which is well worth tracking down and watching. There is also a book of the same name.

Here are some more photographs.

West of Ireland

China

Japan

Amazing still life

Macedonia

African colonial soldiers circa WW1

Licentiate Column 05/05/2011: Fun in the sun

2011-05-05T16:36:00.001+01:00

If 2011 has taught us anything, it’s to expect the unexpected. Millions of Irish people who professed nothing more than a simple loathing of the British Royal family and the overstuffed pomp of a wedding in Westminister Abbey are, at time of writing, now glued to their television sets, dabbing moistened, nostalgic eyes with tissues. It’s like that everywhere except, possibly, Kleenex HQ, where everyone is capering around with glee at the thought of how many extra units of Balsam they’ve managed to shift.

In January, much of North Africa was a prime tourist destination. Now it’s a war zone. And April of this year has been hot. Unseasonably hot. It’s not so much ‘April showers’ as ‘April exsiccated’ - but that doesn’t trip over the tongue quite as nicely as the aqueous version.

We know who’s to blame for this weather. No, not Al Gore. College students. Sod’s Law has proven itself yet again by making sure that no clouds sully the perfect sky while college students have to stay inside and prepare for exams. We can expect similar weather in June when the Leaving Cert starts.

In the meantime though, we’re stuck with a dressing dilemma. What to wear in this hot weather that, let’s face it, is only hot in terms of Irishness? It’s only real shorts-wearing weather between the hours of eleven and two. Before or after that, summer dresses adorn bluish, goosepimpled flesh (lobster red if they’re lucky).
The weather can be deceptive. It’s always sunny, but it’s not always warm. Irish weather is changeable and our memory is so bad that, in a game of Mastermind, a goldfish would win every time.

Here’s a few tips for people who want to see out summer in style. Since it’s now May, you may want to cut out and keep this column until June, when we inevitably emerge from a ‘Day After Tomorrow’ type blizzard, blinking into the sunlight and in need of a pair of shorts.

1) Always wear sunglasses. Yesterday, today and forever, sunglasses are a perennial and eternally useful favourite. The right pair not only look good, but will protect your eyes from sunlight. You can’t put SPF on your eyeballs - glasses are the next best thing. Not only will you be shielding your eyes, you will also save others from your looks of over-admiration/disgust at the nearest human being wearing what looks like a napkin and three lengths of dental floss.

2) Cover up - I can see what you had for breakfast. If it’s hot, shorts and a tee are fine in almost every circumstance. A bikini is what you wear while sunbathing, not grocery shopping. The only time it’s acceptable for a man to be topless in a densely populated urban area is when he’s working as a bricklayer; then it’s a requirement. Know your environment and if in doubt, don’t go topless. It’s not rocket science.

3) If you are going to go nude, please wear something. I’m not talking condoms (although that’s also an excellent idea), I’m talking SPF. I don’t know what it stands for, or how it works, but it stops me from peeling like a crimson Cheesestring, which is the way it should be. Pop some of this magical unguent on your skin and go have some fun in the sun.

If worst comes to the worst and we end up in a drought situation, we have our bases covered - pre-emptive irrigation with the reservoir of public tears spilled over Will and Kate’s nuptials.

Some things are better in black and white...

2011-05-03T00:18:00.001+01:00

...like film noirs, for example. Imagine The Big Sleep in Technicolour. Oh no no no.

With pattern, black and white can sometimes have a higher visual impact than the full prismatic experience. Black and white are two absolute opposites. One could not be more different than the other. It's the ultimate contrast.

Even better than black and white patterns are black and white patterns that are shot in black and white. Excuse me if I'm getting too Brechtian here. Case in point - these pictures, taken by Nina Leen for the March 1958 issue of Life.

Source: Life Photo Archive

This photo is unrelated, but I love the monochromatic goodness the picture adds. I wonder what colour Barbara Streisland and Marlene Dietrich's suits were in real life?

A little something for the weekend...

2011-04-29T17:24:00.001+01:00

If you've ever wondered what I wear on a day to day basis (unlike a lot of bloggers I'm not a big outfit poster) then click here to watch me ramble on about socks with sandals, fake J Brands and stealing clothes from your boyfriend. The video is courtesy of RTE's Red Radar blog, which houses some more posts by yours truly, so get sifting through the archives.

Yes, I do a Vulcan salute at the end. I'm considering using it as a sign-off in all conversations from now on.

Have an excellent Bank Holiday weekend!

Licentiate Column 28/04/11: Shopping Irish Vintage

2011-04-28T09:40:00.000+01:00

I have two fashion bugbears. One is the bizarre weekly columns of a certain fashion writer for a certain Irish National newspaper, which I pore over weekly like a small child examining the progress of a greenish, particularly notched scab on his knee. Each week I’m increasingly boggled by the factual inaccuracies, patronising attitudes and overdone, lazy ‘shoes-equal-life’ metaphors and Coco Chanel quotes casually executed (in the ‘death by firing squad’ sense) by this writer.

But that’s a column for a country without libel laws. That column will never exist, which is a good thing, because writing it would probably result in such a cathartic burst that I’d expire of sheer happiness on pressing the ‘send’ button.

The other bugbear is much more manageable. That bugbear is the Irish vintage market. As complicated and full of cozeners as the average Dickens scenario, as full of scammers, well-meaning innocents and true-blue fanatics as an X Factor audition and more complicated than a marathon run of Twin Peaks, your average vintage market is not to be ventured into unless you’re very well-educated or have a weight to offload in the wallet area.

In Ireland, people aren’t out to make a profit; they’re out to make a killing. The vintage sector is no different. The problem of overpricing, in my estimation, is obvious in at least half of the Irish vintage vendors.

This is due to many different factors. Vendors buy from abroad and the price of shipping has to be factored in. Vendors buy a dress that they love, but is that little bit too expensive, so the price is doubled for resale. Sometimes vendors are just total chancers and slap a fifty euro price tag on a dress bought from Oxfam or worse, a dress that is obviously from the high street and only a few seasons old, but with the tags not-so-suspiciously missing.

A good rule of thumb is, if you like it and you think it’s worth it, then buy it. If you have any doubts, walk away. In a world where ‘vintage’ has somehow become a by-word for individuality, you’d be surprised how often similar items to the one you just passed up will come along. What’s for you won’t pass by you.
But, if you’re a tight-fisted miser like me, here’s some good resources.

1) Etsy. Etsy is a worldwide vintage and handmade market. The majority of the sellers are from The US, so the dollar to euro conversion will almost definitely work in your favour. Shipping is almost never as expensive as you’d expect and a bargain is never far away if you’re willing to cyber-rummage.

2) Elsa & Gogo. This Irish vintage accessory store has a carefully chosen edit of pretty, ladylike bracelets that look like they came right from Peggy Draper’s dressing table, at very reasonable prices. Elsa & Gogo have one up on the average vintage seller; their packaging is very beautiful and ripe for the gift-giving.

3) Tabitha Vintage. This online shop can be found on Facebook and is the brainchild of bloggers Una O’Boyle and Louise Ryan of Glamrocks Luna, an Irish fashion blog that compiles the very best of style inspiration. Their clothing is superlative grunge-chic, with prices so low I almost want to rub my eyes with surprise like a cartoon character. So, there you have it. Go forth, and shop wisely.

The Very Last Ten Things

2011-04-26T11:25:00.002+01:00

So, I've been tagged by The Hostess Handbook and given a Kreativ Blogger award. Ta very much for thinking of me! Here's my ten facts.

1) Although it's very nice to be thought of and tagged, and I really enjoy reading other people's posts, I hate these things. Once you get them, you feel obliged to tag another ten people. It's the blog equivalent of a chain mail and I find that I'm getting so many of them I'm eventually going to run out of facts about myself. Although, I've been in an inspiration rut recently, I don't think that these make for the best posts. So, this is the last. This must be the last. Absolutely the last. Final. Full stop. Never again. Cross my heart and hope to ~~die~~ be spanked until my bottom goes purple.

2) At present there are three large men ripping up the tiles in my flat and installing a new boiler. All I can say about that is - thank God for watertight tenancy agreements, if not boilers.

Source

3) New celeb crush - by that I mean 'guy on TV who is cute', not an actual crush (that would be weird): Dave Franco. Funny, great smile, seems smart and looks a little bit like an ex-boyfriend, but not so much that I'm totally repulsed. Yes, he's James Franco's younger brother.

Melodramatic enough for ya? (source)

4) Last book read - The Crimson Petal and the White by Michel Faber. I was really excited to get this as an early birthday present (thank you Alan!) and it was excellent - up until the last hundred pages or so. The TV adaptation currently running on the BBC also looks amazing and has a great cast. Although I don't know how I feel about the prospect of a full frontal Chris O'Dowd. Oh, I know he went to LAMDA and everything but he'll always be Roy from the IT Crowd to me.

5) Can't. Stop. Listening. To. This. Song. Against my better judgement. Ev'ry day I'm shufflin'.

source

6) My birthday is next week and a fluo Cambridge satchel is at the very top of the wishlist. Add some Danielle Scutt for Topshop jewellery and I'm channeling my inner Man Repeller. P.S. I'd love one in leopard print. Cambridge Satchel Company, if you're reading this...

7) New film obsession - Paris is Burning, as seen at Style at Set last weekend. I'd be foolish NOT to try vogueing on my next night out.

8) That Can Be My Next Tweet invents new tweets made from your old tweets. Recycling is good for the environment. But not for my imagination. Ugh. What a mental image.

9) Speaking of which, I'm on facebook AND twitter AND Pinterest - so come say hello. Validate me with your friendship!

10) The last and most important point. As I've said, there's been an inspiration drought sweeping the area lately, so I've set myself a challenge and I need YOUR help. I've decided to write about any fashion/style-oriented topic that is put to me. Every single one. No matter how out there, or seemingly normal, I want to write about it. Even if you don't think it's my cup of tea, I want to know. You can give me a word, or a link, or a picture to bounce ideas off. Leave any and all suggestions in the comments. And thank you.

Licentiate Column 21/04/11: The Man Repeller

2011-04-21T13:36:00.000+01:00

Are you a Man Repeller?

I don’t mean in the literal sense, as if you had an internal chromosonal magnet tuned to the same polarity as all men.

Nor am I asking if you smell bad, or are ugly, or have a terrible personality - because I know you don’t (and even if you did, there’s still someone out there for you - more than likely a belching farting, incredibly hostile someone, but a special someone all the same).

The Man Repeller is a blog written by New Yorker Leandra Medine. In it, she talks about all the clothes that your friends go bananas over, but make men scratch their heads in puzzlement,which sometimes happens when women do things not exclusively for their masculine amusement.

Capes, detachable collars, fringing, feathers, sequins, print clashes, harem pants, clogs, shoulder pads and boyfriend jeans are all incorporated into outfits that are both cheerfully tongue-in-cheek and dead-serious stylish. Not since the suffragette movement has something that comes so naturally to women been so totally incomprehensible for men.

The Man Repeller is a person too. She’s me in glaring neon pink jeans. She’s my best friend with tattoos and leopard print. She’s that girl in the shop with a Dellal esque demi-shaved head.

She’s you in your absolute favourite pair of shoes. She’s all of us - the Carrie Bradshaw part that wears what she wants, not what is expected of her. She’s the kind of person who keeps up with the trends, but dresses only for herself. No kitten heels may pass the threshold of her wardrobe doors, for there are too many of clunky Acne/Topshop/Penneys wedges taking up space inside.

Why wrap up in a sensible coat on a cold winter’s day when you can dress like a yeti a la Chanel? Greasy locks? Leave the dry shampoo to one side and pop on a turban. The Man Repeller might look a bit bonkers to the general public, but her fellow Repellows knows that she’s channeling Old Hollywood meets Roaring Twenties meets Opium Den. She doesn’t really care what the general public thinks anyway. She loves the turban. Her taste is just so good it goes beyond the realms of normal human perception. That’s good enough for me.

For anyone who thinks that fashion can’t be feminist, think again. For those who maintain that shopping is a shallow pursuit, well, you might be right; but you have to admit that the Man Repeller adds credence. Freedom of expression and non-conformity will always be a good thing - even if it’s only in outfit form.

The Man Repeller doesn’t hate men, she likes them - most of the time. She also likes being her own person. That is where the disparity lies. It’s a toss on a doubled-sided coin. Heads to please yourself. Tails to attract the opposite sex. For the Man Repeller, heads wins every time.

Fashion Film @ Style at Set

2011-04-18T14:34:00.001+01:00

This Easter Weekend brings us chocolate binges and religious flagellation - but it also brings us the second ABSOLUT Style at Set, a weekend of fashion, fun, frolics and most importantly (for me anyway), FILM!

As a precursor to the stalls, workshops and talks, Friday is all about the fashion films. If you're in the area on Good Friday, I highly recommend you pop in and engage the stylish part of your brain. Plus, the pubs will be all be closed on Good Friday. And it's free. Now you have no excuse. Did I mention that it was free?

Mercifully, there's no Devil Wears Prada or Sex and the City in the line-up. Instead, the one film and three documentaries shown seem to follow a fairly loose theme: that of the thoughts and processes behind the finished products of fashion fantasy: magazines, photography, designer clothing and subculture. Altogether, it's a carefully chosen edit with something for everyone. Here's the running order.

4PM: Funny Face

It wouldn't be a fashion film fest without a bit of Audrey, and this is the perfect Hepburn movie to kick it off. Hepburn films are always stylish, but this has the added advantage of being set in the fashion industry, albeit one that involves a lot more singing and dancing when discussing spring trends than usual. It's an unconvincing love match between Hepburn and the by-then very creaky Fred Astaire (he also starred in the original musical version... in 1927) but that doesn't really matter when it's set in New York and Paris, has an amazing opening sequence with photos by Richard Avedon and the combined costuming efforts of Edith Head and Hubert de Givenchy.

6pm: Annie Liebovitz: Life Through a Lens

If you don't know much about Annie Liebovitz, then this is a good place to start. This documentary was filmed by Liebovitz' younger sister, so there won't be any unpleasant revalations or smudges on her character or breaking down in floods of cathartic tears. This isn't about personality, it's about photography - so if you're a fan of Liebovitz' notoriously meticulous work and want to know more, or just want some inspiration of your own, watch this.

7.30 PM: Marc Jacobs and Louis Vuitton

This is the one film in the schedule that I don't know much about, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you a blurb instead. This documentary follows Marc Jacobs as he finishes a RTW collection for Louis Vuitton. In it, we see the mundanities of his everyday life, which contrast with the creative highs. There's also a wee bit of conflict - where does the line between creativity and being beholden to the chairman of the board lie?

9PM: Paris is Burning

Seminal drag documentary, Paris is Burning, was filmed in the recesses of Harlem dance halls before the area was gentrified. This isn't so much a fashion film as it is an ode to the transformative power of clothing (along with make up, some slick dance moves and the right 'tude). Equal parts funny, sad and fascinating, this is the one to watch.

Licentiate Column 14/04/11: Royal Wedding Mania

2011-04-14T16:56:00.000+01:00

A few weeks ago I was chatting to my mother on the phone. This is not an unusual occurrence, but I always look forward to our chats because my mother is, often unwittingly, the source of both the divine and the absurd inspiration when it comes to the writing of this column.

She’s convinced that I take artistic license, that she can’t possibly be the person that’s described in (very) brief terms every few weeks. She just hasn’t come to deal with that fact that, like every parent I have ever met, under the fragile veneer of normality, she is totally bonkers. Deal with it Mom. You’re an inspiration to us all.

This chat was a doozy. ‘Who do you think will be designing Kate’s wedding dress?’ she said. ‘I hear Alexander McQueen will be doing it’.

‘No... I don’t think so. You do know that Alexander McQueen is dead, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do’, she trilled, (this is the point where my mother puts down the paper and thinks ‘I never trill! What are these filthy lies!’. This is all true, by the way. Scouts Honour) ‘I mean the person that’s taken over at McQueen’.

‘I don’t know Mom. It’s possible. She’ll probably pick a British designer’.

‘And what do you think the dress will look like? Won’t it be lovely! I’m going to have a garden party to celebrate the day.’

I feel at this point that I should reassure you that my mother has more than two brain cells to rub together. She is just suffering from an unfortunate affliction that reaches epidemic proportions whenever a famous person gets married. Double symptoms if said famous person is a member of a royal family.

This affliction revolves around one thing and one thing only; the dress. Not the ceremony, not the honeymoon, not the guestlist. It’s all about the dress. The dress, the dress, the dress.

This year we have two Kates getting married. Kate Middleton. Kate Moss. One wants her dress to be a surprise for her husband to be. The other asked John Galliano to design hers, but now she’s having second thoughts. Send answers in on a postcard, but don’t expect a prize. Either way, both are leading the media and the terminally curious on a merry dance around the bridal shop.

We want to be a part of these weddings. We want to be in on the bride’s secrets. I think the reason that the dress is the nexus of all our obsessions is that it’s a common denominator. Every woman who wants to get married has, in theory, the option to wear a white dress. It’s simple, it’s reliable and it’s a shared experience between you and every beautiful woman who ever said I do.

You may not marry a prince, or be a famous model. The guest list may not include Elton John and the honeymoon may not be in St. Barts - but the dress will always be there. That’s something that you and my mother and Kate Middleton will always have in common. ‘Til dress do you part.

Kiki de Montparnasse

2011-04-12T14:38:00.000+01:00

The past week I've been sick in bed, which is not fun. The upside was that I finally had the time to read the books that I had stockpiled for such an occasion (and watch the boyfriend scurry about getting me hot lemony drinks).

A new addition to the pile, which arrived on my doorstep this week, was the graphic biography of Kiki de Montparnasse, the model, muse, artist, actress, drug addict, cabaret singer, prototypical scenester and general inspiration to large-nosed women everywhere. I'm starting to love the graphic biography genre, because it appeals to both the comic book nerd and the history nerd that hold an uneasy truce inside my brain.

This book, by Catel and Bousquet, is a joy to read. For the first time in years, the minute I finished the book, I went back to the first page and started to read it again. Here she is as she appeared in the book.

Illustration by Catel for Self-Made Hero

And here's some real-life Kiki.

Kiki in Man Ray's 'Emak Bakia' (source)

Kiki was Man Ray's long-standing muse until the arrival of Lee Miller.

Violon d'Ingres by Man Ray

Nu Couche a la Toile de Jouy by Tsuguharu Foujita

Kiki de Montparnasse by Pablo Gargulo

Kiki with Accordionist by Brassai

“All I need is an onion, a bit of bread, and a bottle of red; and I will always find somebody to offer me that.” - Alice Prin (Kiki de Montparnasse)

Licentiate Column 07/04/11

2011-04-07T09:00:00.001+01:00

Last week I was lucky enough to attend a talk given by one of Ireland’s foremost fashion editors. She spoke about her teenage years and the birth of a clothes obsession, raiding her granny’s wardrobe for vintage threads, taking the bus to London and razoring the Topshop tags off her purchases (a pre-EU measure to throw the customs man off the scent).

It sounds a lot like the gestation period of any fashion-fixated teen, except now we’re detagging tops from Woodbury Common, not Oxford Street. It seems as if nothing has changed. Is this a template that we all follow? Discover the joys of clothing at an early age, then let it develop naturally through occasional, light cross-border smuggling?

But, while the measures in which the individual grows to love clothes never changes, society goes through convulsive totterings, from one cultural extreme to another, and often because of the most unexpected catalysts.

In 1995, there was a heatwave. Not the Irish heatwaves that we’re used to, in which there’s three days of fine weather and everyone migrates to the beach purely out of fear that the nice weather will end before the planning permission for the first sandcastle comes through. A proper heatwave - with water rationing and yellow grass and a million lobster-skinned Hibernians hovering around the place with barely any clothes on, displaying tatty bra straps and previously unseen cleavage.

It was this heatwave, the fashion editor proposed, that was the driving force that knocked Ireland headfirst into modernity. Before then, we were prudish about showing our breasts, unaware of the technology of ceramic plates for hair-straighteners and unwilling to let our unique Irishness be subsumed into a European mould.

Before 1995, the bodycon dresses that we see in every town in Ireland on every Saturday night would have been the Church-intervening kind of scandalous. Afterwards, the typical pale-faced colleen was about as visible as a unicorn. That summer was the starting point for a baby boom and, some might argue, the real start of the Celtic Tiger phenomenon. We had our first taste of the good life; the heat, the cleavage, the acts that inevitably precede a baby boom. We didn’t want it to end.

Could a heatwave really be the starting point for Modern Ireland? Were these the bra-straps seen around the world? Well, yes.

It’s a perfect storm. A heatwave did change the way that we wear clothes, but it’s was a rare combination of cultural,economic and social factors that accelerated this change, going from zero to couture in less than a decade.

It was the start of a decade of excessive prosperity. It was the decade when the Catholic Church loosened it’s moralising grip on the country. Travel became cheaper. Women began to see what life was like on the other side. We wanted change. We wanted progress. We wanted freedom.

It was then that Dunnes started selling lacy bras. See what I mean? The perfect storm.

Exclusive interview with Glamrocks Luna and What She Wears

2011-04-05T13:43:00.001+01:00

Lou and Una of Glamrocks

The great and the good of the Irish fashion industry packed into The Mansion House last Thursday to pay tribute to the people who make the most fashion impact.

Very lucky me, I was there to interview Ireland’s most influential bloggers, public choice winners Louise and Una of Glamrocks Luna and industry awards winner Anne Marie Boyhan of What She Wears.

Here, the ladies talk speeches, support and how to start a blog as influential as theirs…

First up, how did you feel when you found out that you’d won an award?

WSW: I was quite shocked, there were so many great nominees, then very flattered. Then I realised I had to make a speech. Someone said they heard my glass crash to the floor when my name was called!
GL: We were overwhelmed by the support we got. We were so nervous accepting the awards but delighted we went and met our fellow bloggers and other talented people from the fashion industry.

Click here to read the rest of the interview on RTE's Red Radar website...

Additional Links

Glamrocks talk about their win.
What She Wears talks about winning the industry awards.
Irish Fashion Awards website

Stylish Blogger Award/ Seven Things... eh... thing.

2011-04-03T20:49:00.000+01:00

So, this week I've been given a Stylish Blogger Award by the lovely Jessica of Enchanted Vintage Clothing, whose blog I genuinely love, and not just because she tagged me in a post. I really enjoy reading her educational, funny and promdress-filled posts, so check out her blog quick-smart.

For no reason other than I like this, here's my and the boyfriend's feet

The point of these posts are to give a bit of blog love and get some in return, but I won't be tagging anyone in these. If you like this post and want to do one like it, leave me a link in the comments. I don't want to exclude anyone or make them feel like they have to do it. I have to share seven things that you might not know about me. I'm not much of a sharer, so these seven factoids were hard to come up with. I hope you like them.

At a family party, note my super-smooth face. Computers can do great things these days.

1) My mother has had a formative influence on my life. She works part-time in a library, where she heads up the county book club. She's half the reason why I grew up in a house full of books. She taught me the value of a Burberry trench coat. I tell people who have never met her that she's a cross between Delia Smith and Audrey Hepburn, but I don't think that I've ever told her that. She makes excellent scones and pate and bread and butter pudding (but not together). She wants to go to India. She has a rail full of Diane Von Furstenburg dresses in her room. Anything she has, she'll give to one of her children without them having to ask. She is one of the most tolerant, gentle and considerate people I have ever felt the good fortune to meet and I love her to bits. Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

2) My mother is from England and I have a lot of relatives there, but she was born to Irish parents. Technically, I've got dual nationality and I do feel a bit British. It's a really hard identity to reconcile when you consider the fraught relationship that England and Ireland have had. Existential crises aside, I do enjoy a nice cream tea and an elaborate Royal Wedding.

3) My dream is to edit and publish my own magazine. I also want to write a novel, if only to prove to myself that I can do it. And I will do it. I will.

Looking pensive and hoping for a tomorrow without nocturnal corner-shop visits

4) My boyfriend is freakishly supportive. He goes to the shop in the middle of the night to get biscuits for my tea and sleeps on the couch when I'm sick (got strep throat at the moment). He's a very nice guy.

Bumper prize to the person who can name the most books on this shelf...

5) Of all the things I am proud of, I'm probably proudest of my bookshelf...

Disgraceful

6) ...but in every other aspect, I'm a massive slob. In reality, my bedside drawer has this on it - plus five or six mugs, a pair of glasses, bottles of nail varnish and an even bigger pile of unfinished books.

7) There's no food I won't try. Bushtucker trials have got nothing on me.

Licentiate Column 31/03/11: Reactionary Dressing

2011-03-31T09:01:00.001+01:00

If my Junior Cert science knowledge serves me well (and it probably doesn't), one of Isaac Newton's laws of physics is, 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction'. While this applies in relation to centrifrugal forces, it's also relevant to our everyday lives - and to think we were convinced that it would have no practical application once we left school.

Whatever your political preference, whether left, right or maddeningly, non-commitally dead-centre, we are all rebellious reactionaries. Reactionary dressers, that is.

Like most deep set neuroses, I believe that this starts in early childhood. A child is dressed by his or her parents. They are the dictator of the toddler closet, the holders of the keys to Gap Kids. You will wear those pink corduroy dungarees and you will have this pudding-bowl haircut. You have no choice in the matter.

From a very early age, a person gets a sense that there's a way that you want to dress and a way that you have to dress, and ne'er the twain shall meet.

Both of these things play off each other. The more rigid the uniform, the more expressive and off-the-wall the remainder of your wardrobe will be. This is where Newton comes into the equation. Here's the science bit.

Friend A works in a chain sportwear shop on the high street. He is required to wear Brand X for work, but his distaste for X means that he now buys Brand Y for his days off. In fact, he buys much more Y than he did before he started at work. It's a reaction to the dreaded brand X. Q.E.D.

Friend B is a impossibly polished medical consultant in a large private hospital. When someone sneezes in her presence, she thinks they're making a medical point about Jimmy Choos. She get manicures twice and blowdries thrice weekly because of the sheer wilful need to look professional in front of her influential, much older, mostly male peers. On her off days she goes to Tesco in her pajamas.

In a wider scope, almost all countercultural movements of the twentieth century are reactions to the establishment. The hippie ethos was born out of disgust with the American government and stifling social norms, but the clothing was a calculated counter-attack to these norms. It shocked Johnny Crewcut out of his complacent haze and into a more, er, lycergic one - one that involved bell bottoms and a helluva lot of suede fringing.

For some reason, this is a phenomenon that has only come to maturity within the past hundred years. The Surrealists shocked the world in the earlier part of the century, but part of their shock value was that they looked incredibly respectable, in three-piece suits and soft homburgs. Even then, their clothing was a reaction - a deliberate effort to buck against what was expected of them, which was to outwardly express what deviants they were.

From shoes, to outfits, to social groups, from traditional national dress to battle uniform even to schisms in society at large, all reactions are governed by the actions that precede them. Once you start to notice these reactions, you life may start to take on a Da Vinci Code-esque significance as you count all the coincidences that pop up almost out of nowhere. For me though, there's a straightforward explanation - it's simple fashematics.

Is that a bandwagon I spy...

2011-03-30T02:58:00.002+01:00

...because I feel like jumping on it.

I'm mightily interested in those 'what in your bag' posts that are popping up all over the place. Part of the allure of blogs is the insight you get into other people's lives. Now we get an insight into their accessories.

This is my bag. It's a (genuine) vintage Dooney and Bourke bag in tan and black, accessoried with a leopard print Primark scarf. I love it so.

I'm not a bag person. I need to be strapped to my bag at all times, otherwise I'll wander off like Ralph from The Simpsons, off to the toilet or dancefloor without it, and never see it again. Clutches are not my friend. Backpacks make me look like an ant huffing a gigantic pile of rocks up a hill. The mid size bag is a, uhm, happy medium.

For a medium bag, it holds a lot of stuff. This week it's playing house for:

Travel itinaries and booking confirmations - going to Dublin for a few days to catch up with family, go to a few meetings, do a bit of work and hopefully buy a nice pair of pink trousers.
Wallet - a present from my aunt - it basically has my life in it. A life with no money (so be warned, potential muggers).
Two of twelve billion Cork and Dublin bus tickets.
An iPod that has taken for too many knocks.
Coin purse - Marc by Marc Jacobs and was a Christmas present. It holds coins. And sometime lozenges (I'm such an old lady).
Passport - In case Enzo whisks me off to Milan at the last minute. It is also helpful for getting into pubs.
Generic ibuprofen - because I'm too cheap to buy Nurofen.
Reporters notebook
Whatever book I'm reading at the moment - this one is a biography of Lee Miller.
A pencil - because someone took my pen! My precious Bic! I'll get you one day, pen thief...
A Nokia phone which is similar to a Blackberry, but nowhere near as fiddly.
Hand sanitiser - because you'd never know who has cooties.
A lolly. Just 'cos.
Two bobby pins to whip back an unruly fringe.
Make up. No. 7 Mascara, Bobbi Brown concealer, Mac eyeshadow in Bronze and Mac matte lipstick in Russian Red.
A pair of Ray Ban Clubmasters. If I lost these, I would go hardcore baloobas. My sunglasses are basically my ticket into the outside world. If you've seen photos of me taken during the day, I'll have these on. It's not because I'm an indie wanker (that's only about 75% of the reason). I'm mildly photosensitive. Direct sunlight hurts my eyes, makes them water and if I don't put my sunglasses on, I'll get a migraine after about twenty minutes or so. Since Ireland is mostly overcast, this hasn't been too much of a problem. It's just unfortunate that optimum weather conditions for taking photos are also those which make me want to run for the hills (or a darkened room).

What's in your bag?

"If you wear a ringer, you're Indie Rock. Period."

2011-03-29T00:00:00.003+01:00

Wise words, Daisy von Furth, wise words.

X-girl is the sister to Japanese label X-Large and, as I type, is only available in Japan. In 1994, when the label was launched, the brands directors were Daisy Von Furth and Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth *cue fangirl squeee*

While is lasted in it's RIOT GRRRL format, it was pretty darn cool. With all the clean lines and simple tailoring, it reminds me of a no boys-allowed Fred Perry.

X Girl editorial for Vice Magazine

Did you notice a very young Spike Jonze and Sofia Coppola in the video? And Chloe Sevigny was their original fit model. ANDandand and and... *fades into silence*

EDIT - While we're on the subject of music in fashion, you can watch a video of myself and Dawn of Skinni Peach talking about fashion in music with our playlist on the Teen RTE (think Irish BBC) website . The video will be on the website for a week, so have a click and see what we like! You'll get to see me move and speak (a bit like an Irish Daria Morgendorffer) and display abysmal posture. What an incentive.

Licentiate Column 24/03/11: Dress Codes

2011-03-24T15:31:00.000Z

The unprecedented has happened. This month, I have not one, but two awards ceremonies to attend. This time last year, I was lucky to have not one, but two pub quizzes with which to grace my presence.

Awards ceremonies are tricky. Go long, or short? On-trend colour pops or classic monochrome? Stripes or spots? Hair - up or down? Bags - clutch or envelope? Consort - is he holding your bag or the drinks? It's one of the (very) few occasions when I wish that I was a man instead of a woman, accessory holding notwithstanding.

Black and white tie is strictly regulated - for the guys. You must wear black dress socks, you must have a black satin cummerbund, you must have the right coloured bow circling a stiff, starched collar in a brilliant shade of white. For women, it's slightly more difficult.

What then, if traditional dress codes go out the window? Black tie is now the stuffy formal mode of dressing - far too rigid for us hipsters and awards attendees. We have to have a different language; a new set of buzzwords for a new generation. We don't need your bourgeois, stinking dress codes, man!

We think that we've thrown off the shackles of sartorial suppression, but we've only made things worse. By opening up the remit in which we get dressed, we leave ourselves open to a whole new level of disaster. If you're going somewhere special and you want to look appropriate (an attribute that is severely underappreciated in modern existence), then dress codes are vital.

Imagine going to a wedding wearing jeans while your partner rocks up to the church in a bedazzled suit that the combined efforts of Versace and Liberace could not surpass in terms of extreme, overarching, gaudy glamour. Not a good image, now is it? Especially if your partner is a blocky, Beamish drinking, aggressively heterosexual nightclub bouncer named Craig.

Even if you don't have a Craig-esque partner, or even have a partner at all, the new series of dress codes are so utterly stumping that you can just about manage to worry only about yourself. Gone are the days of transparent codes, here to stay is Blank Chic, the code where the word 'chic' is preceded with something utterly meaningless, something that magicks up only a vague image that could be interpreted in a million different ways.

Last week a friend of mine told me about a party she attended - the dress code was 'safari chic'. What does that even mean? Did she need a pith helmets and and elephant gun to go with her Breakfast at Tiffany's cocktail dresses? Perhaps a scad of malaria to give that perfect touch of je ne sais qois to an LBD?

People generally don't like rules and regulations; it's a sign of suppression and bureaucratic measures, it limits creativity and personal freedoms and lest we forget, people don't really like doing things against their will.

But we're not talking about totalitarian government, nor are we really talking about awards ceremonies. We're talking about weddings and graduations, christenings and office parties - any formal occasion.
It's nice to be free and loose, but sometimes it's better to do what is right and proper - this includes a dress code.

Cartoon characters based on real people

2011-03-18T15:25:00.001Z

Just a short post before I have to pack and get on the bus to Belfast... Normal posting will resume next week.

Here are two of my favourite excellent dressers - who were also the inspiration for two of my favourite animated characters

Tallulah Bankhead and Cruella deVil

Edith Head and Edna Mode from The Incredibles

'NO CAPES!' I love The Incredibles.

Who are your favourite fashion characters - and are they based on real people?

Licentiate Column 16/03/11: Couples with matching jackets

2011-03-16T12:13:00.000Z

Normally, I quite like the stories that my parents tell me about their courtin’ days. Bike rides to the beach on the Kerry coast and trips to see Thin Lizzy and Eric Clapton are played in my mind through a fuzzy, hazy sunshine imbued filter not unlike that used in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

In reality, my parents are one part Sundance and Etta and another part Homer and Marge Simpson. For example, my father brought my mother a box of chocolates on the night of their debs ball. Par for the course, except that he ate all of the soft centres. For every instance of cutesy-poo, there’s another one that is mind-bendingly embarassing (but still very sweet).

Once, my parents decided that it would be a good idea to purchase and wear matching jackets. Not just matching jackets, but matching silver puffa jackets. With red and blue stripes. The mind boggles.

My mother now reassures me that it wasn’t a conscious decision. My father was living in Dublin, my mother in Tralee. She bought the jacket, knowing that my father liked it, but reasoning that they would never turn up in the same place, wearing the same jacket. She was very wrong. Apparently, this was one of the most testing periods in their relationship. If anything, it’s proof that my parents have very middle-class problems.

I told myself that this would never happen to me. That lasted about five minutes when I started going out with my first proper boyfriend. The silver puffa jacket was, mercifully, not an option, but we would manage to turn up separately for afternoon dates in battered converse, slim jeans (skinnies had yet to be invented) and leather bomber jackets. We looked like the world’s worst Ramones tribute band. Don’t get me started on the time we both wore sparkly LBDs to a family wedding... This may not have happened.

For better or worse, if you pick a partner with similar tastes to yours, it’s likely that this will extend to your clothing. It could be little things, like wearing the same colours, or it could be a full-on matching fest of the highest, most tasteless order.

On one end of the spectrum, there’s Ralph and Ricky Lauren. Ricky’s effortlessly preppy style was what inspired the designer husband to branch into womenswear and today, both are perfect examples of co-ordinated collegiate cool. On the opposite end, there’s Posh and Becks. Do we remember the leather jumpsuits? The double disaster of cream and purple suits at their wedding? I don’t think I need to go any further.

In other countries, wearing matching outfits is a source of pride. In eastern Asia, where PDAs are frowned upon, it’s normal for unmarried couples to wear identical outfits as a sign of their togetherness. It has become so popular that retailers now sell outfits in pairs. It sounds terrible but it is probably no more visually offensive than the average PDA.

Like it or not, if you’re a part of the world at large, this dilemma is one you will have to face many times. So, look on the bright side; it’ll make a good story to tell your children - just don’t mention puffa jackets.

Distilled: Paris Fashion Week A/W '11

2011-03-14T20:19:00.002Z

This is the last in the series. Paris, following on from New York, London and Milan, is probably the most-hyped fashion week, with a record number of high-profile designers showing collections (and a lot of monotonous flicking through photographs on style.com for me).

Here are some Parisian picks, arranged by trend - I use the word 'trend' in the loosest possible terms, because I've just made most of them up.

all photos style.com

Row 1 - Anne Demeulemeester, Cacharel, Haider Ackerman

Row 2 - Chanel, Maison, Martin Margiela, Alexander McQueen

Row 3 - Jean Paul Gaultier, Miu Miu, Tsumori Chisato

Row 4 - Loewe, Louise Vuitton, Valentino

Row 5 - Carven, Jean-Charles de Castelbajac, Sonia Rykiel

Row 6 - Chloe, Christian Dior, Lanvin

YAY TRENDS

Row 1 - Absolutes - Make outfit statements in one colour (or two) - emphasis is on texture and silhouette.
Row 2 - Come together, fall apart - Deconstructed, zipped and ripped apart outfits. I shouldn't love this because these are oriented towards the willowy of body, but I do anyway.
Rpw 3 - Little old ladies - Pour talcum powder in your 'do, amp up the boxy silhouette and invest in a furry shopping trolley, as seen at Gaultier.
Row 4 - Night porter - Leather trenches with very little little on underneath for the dominatrix vibe. Christian Dior jokes optional.
Row 5 - Plaid - pensive plaid at Carven, Playful plaid at Castelbajac and Sonia Rykiel - it's all good.
Row 6 - Textures with pattern - wooly snakeskin at Chloe and flower print gazar fabric at Lanvin.

NAY TRENDS

None - though when it comes to Paris, I have rose-tinted specs. Perhaps there was an overabundance of fur, but that seems to have been an overarching trend covering all four weeks.

What are your PFW picks?

An Introduction to The Licentiate...

2011-03-10T09:06:00.013Z

... for those who are coming from the Irish Blog Awards website, who have never seen this blog before, and have no idea what it's all about.

Hello, I'm Sarah and this is my blog, The Licentiate (pronounced 'lie-sen-she-ate' - but there won't be an oral test, I promise). EDIT: Here's a dictionary definition for curious comers. In retrospect, it wasn't the best name to pick, but I'm not one to make things easier on myself. This is what I look like.

Did I mention that I hate having my picture taken and I'm very awkward and I don't normally look this smug and ohgoddontjudgemefromthispicture?!?

I've been blogging for almost a year now on style, (hence being a finalist in the 'Lifestyle' category in this year's Irish Blog Awards *happydance*) subculture and it's various permutations in film, books and art. Any posts before the sixteenth of March '10 are imported from a previous blog. I'm a freelance journalist and write a column, also called The Licentiate, for The Cork Independent. You can read them here.

From the first Licentiate post:

This is the product of my obsessions including but not confined to; magazines, stealing my friend's SLRs and fiddling around with the aperture settings, internet shopping, colour schemes, frames of reference and inspiration, history of fashion, the tenets of style, bad taste, out-of-print fashion books, bad DIY, local goings-on, vintage, stuff collected on my travels, patterns and anything slightly insidious, off-kilter or weird.

That was the mandate then, and I've stuck to it as closely as possible. Here's a few posts for the first-time visitor. Consider it a cyber pocket guide.

Self-indulgent tripe

1 - A licentiate's backstory (involving me looking stupid in my graduation gear).

2 - Why I blog - You know the hows, now read the why.

3 - Ritualism - A blog post I wrote when my grandmother died and I nearly wore a tutu to her funeral.

4 - Nan's Legacy Part I and II - as you can see, my family is a big deal to me. I often write posts about both of my grandmothers, who were equally inspiring in wildly different ways. Here is some of my paternal grandmother's jewellery.

5 - My Family Portrait. Vintage inspiration from my mother's side of the family.

Favourites

1 - Probably my favourite post ever.

2 - Is the blog the modern equivalent of the zine? A post about modern publishing and a full reproduction of original 70's zine 'How to Look Punk'. I can't tell you how much I love this zine - every night I go to sleep and mentally thank the person who upload this on the internet (I may not actually do this).

3 - WWDVD (What would Diana Vreeland Do?) - Or 'why I detest American Apparel'.

4 - Mixtapes at the Glucksman - A closer look at Linder Sterling. Oh, Linder.

5 - 2010 Roundup - favourites, highlights and everything in between.

Reader favourites

1 - Bonnie and Clyde '10

2 - Style Icon - Wallis Simpson

3 - A handful of perfect Hallowe'en costumes

4 - Hell's Angels - Not your typical Old Ladies

5 - Royal Wedding Bonanza!

I'm terrible at signing off, so I'll just say that you can say friend me on facebook, follow me on twitter or leave a comment to say hello. I love meeting new people (just as long as they don't follow me back to my apartment) and I hope that, if you like this, you'll come back again. Over and out *does awkward Vulcan salute*.

Licentiate Column 10/03/11: Too Poor to be Stylish

2011-03-10T09:00:00.000Z

This season's fashion weeks have drawn to a close. Catwalks have been dismantled in New York, London, Milan and Paris, models are now eating something other than cotton wool whorls dipped in orange juice and editors are now retreating to their desks to tell us what we'll be wearing next winter (polka dots, plaids and an obscene amount of fur, apparently).

I shall be wearing none of those things. I might indulge in some dot action, but they'll be Penney's polkas, not Prada's. Unless a Euromillions win is imminent, I'll never own anything hot off the catwalk. This isn't for lack of wanting. If wanting was a currency, I'd be richer than Warren Buffett.

But wanting isn't a currency. I am poor - the kind of poor that makes passing church mice think, 'there but for the grace of God'...

I am poor partly by circumstance and partly by choice. It's a trade off; either I work a job that I really don't want and have spending money or keep working towards something that will bear dividends only in the future. Looking at some of the people I know in the former situation, I feel as if the right choice has been made (especially when they buy me a slap-up dinner).

This kind of decision is not made lightly and it has an effect not unlike living on a faultline in a treehouse built of glass. The aftershocks are frequent; every small jolt affects your life.

As I grow less and less solvent, my means of spending become less and less. I've gone from frequent high-street buying, to infrequent, to charity shops, to a total clothing embargo. Now, due to a very large, very nasty bill, I am forced to sell the contents of my wardrobe.

You'd think that fashion would suddenly become less fun, wouldn't you? But, in reality, the less I have to spend and the narrower the sartorial leeway, the more interesting getting dressed becomes. Being poor opens you up to new horizons, new ways of dressing, new modes of expression.

Women with a higher level of disposable income might find that they don't know how to take up a hem or let out a jacket. They might not know how mix packets of machine dye to turn that shirt from white to the perfect, jewel-tone, deeply-hued magenta that can only be seen on the racks at Gucci. They might not know how to wear a maxi skirt as a mini-dress or even how to sew on a button. Necessity is the mother of invention and when there's no necessity, you get lazy. Trust me, I've been there.

It's not a new phenomenon either. Frugality has been an admirable trait since the austerity years of the Second World War, when 'Make Do and Mend', a pamphlet on stretching your clothing allowance, was first published. It is still in print today.

British Vogue recently resurrected their 'More Dash Than Cash' feature, which shows readers how to reimagine catwalk looks with a mixture of canny high-street buys, ingenuity and a steady hand with a pair of scissors. It maintains that a self-aware, resourceful person can always look stylish.

Some people will inevitably think that it's shallow to contemplate personal style when living below the poverty line. I think that it's essential for living. Being poor is debasing; it makes you feel inadequate, that you're not a real part of society at large. Dressing well is an outward declaration of your dignity. It tells a world that thinks otherwise that you will not be cowed, that you have integrity, that you will not compromise.

Expressing yourself is a basic human right. It's harder to do that without money - that's why getting dressed is so important.

Women of Style and Substance

2011-03-08T23:42:00.001Z

International Women's Day is drawing to a close, which is appropriate since I've spent the past few days in the company of Aisling of Think What You Like and Dawn of Skinni Peach. We're in Dublin, busy with press days and a few top-secret projects (hence the lack of posts).

Here are a few inspirational women who may also get your style juices flowing - hope you had a suitably female-focused day. Ours consisted of running about town in matching beige macs (which was a coincidence, but it didn't stop us singing Return of the Mac on a loop) and eating pancakes upon pancakes in Fafies. Yep, doing our bit for womenfolk everywhere...

Tamara De Lempicka

Coco Chanel (as suggested by Dawn)

Cleopatra (as suggested by Dawn)

Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire (as suggested by Aisling)

Beyonce (as suggested by Aisling)

Grace Jones

Hedy Lamarr (co-invented modern mobile phone technology!)

Kelis

Mary Wortley Montagu

Elizabeth I

Louise Brooks

Lydia Lunch

Natalie Portman (as suggested by Aisling)

Nellie Bly

Queen Medb (as suggested by Aisling)

Osa Johnson

What women inspire you, in terms of style and otherwise?

Distilled: Milan Fashion Week A/W '11

2011-03-06T16:13:00.001Z

First there was New York and London, then there was Milan...

Soon, there will be Paris and I can stop annoying my boyfriend into making me more of these photocollages.

L-R (in convenient alphabetical order)

Row 1 - Alberta Ferretti, Blumarine, Bottega Veneta

Row 2 - D&G, Dolce & Gabanna, Etro

Row 3 - Fendi, Gucci, Marni

Row 4 - Missoni, Moschino, Versus

YAY TRENDS

Milan didn't let us down on the glamour front; colours are richer, pants are shinier and a sense of humour is always apparent.
Mixing textures - leather with tweed, wool with silk, hand-knits with aforementioned shiny-pants material.
Intense colour pops - from crayola brights at Blumarine to cloying candy colours at Missoni.

NAY TRENDS

Milan's glam does have a flip side - and that's it's (debatable) overuse of fur and snakeskin, evident on the Gucci catwalk. I've stated before that I'm fairly ambivalent towards fur, but seeing this much is a bit like eating too much rich chocolate cake; you feel a bit of disgust at the overindulgence.
A distinct lack of trousers. Case in point: no pants at Prada.

NOTES
Pic 4 - Can't you picture MIA wearing every single item from the D&G show?
Pic 8 - Apart from the whole 'fur-discomfort' thing, the Gucci show was beautiful. Drawing inspiration from 70's era Angelican Huston and Helmot Newton = WIN.
Pic 9 - Marni was my favourite show, which came as a bit of a surprise. Pattern mix-and-matching from the masters.

What are your thoughts on Milan?

Licentiate Column 03/03/11 - Teenagers

2011-03-03T10:10:00.001Z

A good column topic is not easy to come by. Sometimes, it's a trend that gets disseminated. Sometimes, it's a 'how to wear' column. Sometimes, it's a mick-taking, joke-making, stick-shaking diatribe. This week, it's all of the above.

For the past few days, I've been thinking about teenagers. Not in a pervy way, of course (exception given to the male cast of Skins) but in a social anthropology kind-of-a-way. I almost want to go down to the park and study their movements, but I won't, because I could end up on some kind of register.

Being a teenager is a big deal. It's a slow moving behemoth that forms who you are through a careful blend of peer pressure, family tensions, hormones, exam stress and many a wardrobe faux-pas. It's a huge experience at the time, but it gets much smaller the further away you move from it. I'm twenty three and my goth years seem like a distant memory speck on the horizon.

For many adults, teens are unknowable, mysterious, elusive beings. Sublimely self-absorbed, aesthetically preoccupied, tumbling headlong into the ownership of their own lives and almost suicidally hellbent on self discovery; it almost seems like fun. Or it would be, if that view wasn't inaccurate, and highly patronising to boot.

While teen life isn't exactly an episode of a certain E4 youth drama, there is one thing that teens do like no adult, and that is express themselves through their clothes. Through youth culture, the fashion world has discovered and co-opted bobby soxers, teddy boys, beatniks, mods, rockers, hippies, preppies, punks, grungeheads, goths and emos, a fraction of a percent of the countless teen clans that have popped up over the past half a century. In truth, all adults want to dress like teenagers.

I saw two girls this week that were perfect specimens of such self expression. The first I saw out shopping with her friends. She was wearing a multicoloured, dizzily patterned, zip-up sweatshirt, a plaid shirt, a pair of black sequinned leggings and the most perfect battered Converse, accessorised with a wavy mane of hair that covered most of her face. She look awkward, but superbly confident. The other I saw trying to sneak into a nightclub with her friends. Her outfit was nothing special, but strapped to her feet were the most fabulous pair of clunky crimson wedges, wrapped with chiffon ribbon. She looked like she had strapped breezeblocks to her feet. She went where few grown women would dare. She looked great.

There's a lot that we can learn from teenagers, not least in how they dress. Here's a refresher course.

1) Throw your style prescription out the window and try new things. Remember, it's about the journey, not the destination.

2) If you're not sure about an outfit, try it on anyway. Some fashion disasters can make beautiful mistakes.

3) Don't be afraid to clash. Your clothes, that is. If you're out of your teens, you should probably avoid clashing with your parents.

3) You can be an individual but still be part of a group. One source of motivation behind youth subcultures is the desire to stand out but also fit in - to assert one's individuality, but be part of a movement. So don't worry that your choices might isolate you; after all, the world is far too small for you to be the only one dressed like that.

Anyway, teenagers have probably been dressing like that well before you thought of it.

Distilled: London Fashion Week A/W '11

2011-03-02T23:15:00.002Z

Here's another extra super-duper, handy-dandy guide to Fashion week. Last one was New York, Milan will be posted in a few days. Here's some of my favourite looks, with a bit of trend prediction thrown in under the guise of journalistic integrity.

from l-r

Row 1 - Deep Red - Betty Jackson, John Rocha, Saloni

Row 2 - 70's Granny Patterns - Christopher Kane, Henry Holland, JW Anderson Woman

Row 3 - Twisted Brit Heritage - Burberry, Paul Smith, Pringle

Row 4 - Bright Pattern Clash - Jonathan Saunders, Lousie Gray, Mary Katrantzou

Row 5 - Grown-up Prints - David Koma, Erdem, Jonathan Saunders

Row 6 - Bonkers Tailoring - Jaeger, Jean Pierre Braganza, Krystof Strozyna

All pics from catwalking.com

YAY TRENDS

Asymmetrical lapels - lapels as dresses, lapels as scarves, lapels as trousers. We'll be wearing lapels as bikinis next - this can only be a good thing.
Blue and green - the ultimate optical aquamarine colourpop.
Heavy materials - I there's something I love, it's going out with he reassuring weight of a blanket around my shoulders (actually, that might be something I need to see a psychotherapist about).
Sherlock Holmes coats - full length or cropped, as seen at Pringle. All I need now is a tweed hat and a pipe. I already have a sidekick called Dr. Watson.

NAY TRENDS

No... Can't think of anything.

NOTES

Pics 4 and 5 - Who knew that Granny's blankets would be back in fashion - and I don't hate it...

Pic 6 - Paisley has finally been given it's due in JW Anderson's first womenswear collection.

Pic 8 - Paul Smith's collection was probably my favourite catwalk show thus far - there was not one thing that I didn't want to wear. And the models! Like tall, willowy versions of Daria .

Pic 18 - Off-kilter draping deserves to be all over the place come this Autumn

Licentiate Column 24/02/11 The Red Shoes

2011-02-24T10:36:00.001Z

Have you ever heard the Tale of the Red Shoes, written by Hans Christian Anderson? A vain girl tricks her adoptive mother into buying her a pair of much-coveted red shoes, which causes her to pay no attention in church. She stops attending services and goes to a party in her bescarleted feet instead. Once she starts to dance, the shoes will not allow her to stop. She dances and dances without an end in sight, through storms, through her mother's funeral, until she reaches the point of insanity or death, when a man take mercy on her and chops off her feet.

She eventually realises the folly of emotionally blackmailing a parent into irresponsible shoe buying, then she dies. So, a happy ending for everyone involved. Or maybe not.

In 1948, a seminal dance film was released, also called The Red Shoes. In it, aspiring prima ballerina Vicky Page gets the chance to dance the lead role in the titular ballet, but eventually has to choose between love of a man or love of her art, symbolised potently in the form of a pair of red ballet slippers. The consequences are predictably disastrous.

That's the trouble with red shoes: They symbolise the things that a woman are, very unfairly, restricted from freely having. These stories are designed to encourage women to conform. Dedicate yourself to your artistic passion instead of looking after a husband? Indulge in hedonism and freedom of self expression? Be an independent person who answers only to herself? Then prepare to have your legs chopped off with a rusty axe before repenting your wicked, wicked ways.

Even now, the world at large doesn't want us to own a pair of proper red shoes. After spending a day in town with my friend Fiona, bemoaning the dearth of such appendages, she came home and asked a question on Facebook; 'what do red shoes mean?' The answers were varied, but the real corkers included such gems as 'red shoes, no knickers' and 'red shoes = Amsterdam window girl'. Apparently, only whores get to don red shoes.

In this day and age, it's surprising that such asinine restrictions actually exist in terms of a simple primary colour. I want a pair of red shoes. Preferably with a very high heel and all kinds of ribbons and general fripperies. And yet, I have never ever had sex in exchange for money - what kind of topsy-turvy world do we live in?

My non-purchase is not as a result of these utterly sophomoric preconceptions; it's the conditions that these preconceptions may have precipitated. There are just no nice red shoes to be had. Of the 1000 or so pairs of women's shoes available on behemoth e-tailer ASOS.com, just fifteen are red, and even then, maybe only two pairs are even slightly close to that particular shade or rich, tomatoey, viscid, brilliantine red that has provoked centuries-long controversy.

It's damnably sexist to assume that such a shade of footwear automatically shrills 'come to bed NOW'. Don't get me wrong, it commands your attention - but the sexual attention can be unwanted or unintended. Red holds immense, often untapped power. Just look at the pope. He wears red shoes, and you don't see anyone wolf-whistling at him or mistaking him for a call girl, now do you?

I have two words for you...

2011-02-22T21:55:00.001Z

..and those words are 'CLEAR MACS'!

It seems that Jeremy Scott was definitely on the right track. Now give me a plastic rain mac and let me splash around in some puddles, Burberry Prorsum-style.

To watch more, visit catwalkreport_v2.aspx?seasonid=23&seasonday=2011 02 21&day=4
via londonfashionweek.co.uk

Press play to watch the highlights of Day Four of London Fashion Week, which has been the best so far (in my incredibly inflated, self-important opinion). An LFW round up will appear on the blog on Friday.

*Apologies for the shortness of this post. Have you ever been so tired that you look at what you're writing and it's total gibberish? Not badly-written or poorly thought out sentences, just actual unintelligible burble, like a toddler mashing the keyboard with his fists. So, in a way, I'm doing you a favour by writing a twitter-length missive. You can thank me later.

Wild for Kicks: The Beat Girl (Part II)

2011-02-20T22:05:00.001Z

Beat Girl title card, image via Imageshack

Some of you readers may remember a post I wrote back in November about 'Beat Girl', a 60's teensploitation film. It has everything: Christopher Lee as a strip club operator, rebellious teens, rowdy beatnik tunes and an bouffanted ingenue who later became a successful ye-ye (nothing to do with yo-yos) singer in France - you know, all the things a modern girl wants in a good film.

Teenage exploitation flicks are highly underrated as a genre. Granted, the scripts are usually terrible, dialogue is delivered in the manner of Bela Lugosi at the dentist and I could burst several car tyres in the many plotholes that spring up all over the place. Then again, the appeal of these films is in the general apathetic yet highly self-involved natures of the characters, which makes them embark on many a high-spirited, poorly thought out, self-destructive adventure. They're just SO stylish, with their casually thrown on, yet meticulously put together outfits (it doesn't hurt that the films were made in an era that is now looked on nostalgically in terms of style). It's for the same reasons that so many people love watching Skins today.

Now, thanks to the Movies section on Youtube, you can watch Beat Girl in it's unadulterated, sleazy, slightly crackly form! Don't say I'm not good to you. Watch this film while doing the frug and smoking gauloises (or just with a cup of tea - make sure that you do the frug at some stage though).

P.S: Now THIS is how you do the frug. Snazzy plaid-jacketed dancing partner optional.

Frug instructions via Flickr

Distilled: New York Fashion Week A/W '11

2011-02-18T09:22:00.001Z

Here's a handy-dandy pocket guide to New York Fashion Week - Favourite runway looks, trend predictions and the stuff that didn't go over so well. I'll be doing one for London, Milan and Paris every week so if you like this, make sure to check back next Friday for more catwalk overanalysis.

All photos from Fashion Gone Rogue, except photo 3, from Getty Images

From left to right, per row

Tartan galore: 1 - Y3, 2 - Rag& Bone, 3 - Libertine

Slick monochromatic tailoring: 4 - Jason Wu, 5 - Michael Kors, 6 - DKNY

Print clash: 7 - Proenza Schouler, 8 - Rodarte, 9 - Preen

Left-field details: 10 - Jeremy Scott, 11 - Marc Jacobs, 12 - Prabal Gurung

70's trend: 13 - Diane Von Furstenberg, 14 - Marc by Marc Jacobs, 15 - Rodarte

Trends from New York for Autumn/Winter 2010/11

YAY TRENDS

Red - and LOTS of it.
Pattern clashes - intricate patterns based on maths/science (as seen on Preen with their uniform polyhedra prints)
Polka dots - as at Marc Jacobs.
Texture tastic - not only will we be mixing patterns, we'll be mixing textures as well. As seen at Marc Jacobs, Proenza Schouler,
Thigh-high split skirts - my legs say no, but my brain says YES!

NAY TRENDS

Sheer tights - Is it just me or are they a bit, erm, Maggie Thatcher?
Fur - on everything - on cuffs, on hats, skirts, everything. I guarantee that someone will manufacture fur underpants and make a profit. My personal stance on fur is pretty non-committal but the sheer amount of fur on the catwalks in NY seemed incredibly self-indulgent. Some of the most original collections didn't use fur at all.

NOTES

Pic 10 - Where would we be without Jeremy Scott? The world would be a much duller place (and Katy Perry would have a yawning chasm in her wardrobe). I think that his collections are best viewed on individual merits. Example; this bikini/clear mac combo. Not something I could ever pull off in real life (and the world breathes a sigh of relief) but pair the crystal-encrusted mac with some monochrome tailoring? WIN.

Pic 11 - Marc Jacobs also works the clear clothing look, but this blouse is much more subtle.

Pic 15 - If you can hold a pair of knitting needles, you could easily knit this Rodarte jumper. I wonder how much the retail will be?

What were your NYFW highlights and lowlights?

Licentiate Column 17/02/11 Colour Blocking: A Guide

2011-02-17T09:00:00.001Z

Colour blocking is a little bit like nuclear fusion. We all have a vague idea of what it is, but only people with specialist knowledge can explain it coherently or know how to work it properly. Colour blocking isn't the driving force behind the most powerful explosive men has ever known, but still, if you make one wrong move, everything is very liable to blow up in your face.
This particular trend has been all over the catwalks and in shops for several seasons now, but it has been hovering around the fringes of decorating, graphic design, home interiors, visual merchandising and art for much, much longer. If someone wants to draw your eye to something, be it a window display or a bathroom wall, colour blocking is one of the most effective ways to do it.
And yet, it is damnably hard to explain in simple, linear terms. I've spent a solid week researching and trying to write synopses, but the only one-line answer to colour blocking that I can come up with is this: If you look like a Fruit Pastille ice pop, then you're doing it right.
Colour blocking should be easy. In it's most basic term, it's the wearing a few contrasting colours in one outfit. Yep, it really should be easy - but it isn't. It's the sartorial equivalent of a sixteen year old trying to unhook his girlfriends bra. The swaggering confidence as the task begins soon turns, first to frustration, then crushing disappointment, insecurity and finally, an unsatisfactory conclusion for everyone involved.
There are a hundred and one simple rules for working colour blocking like a pro, but I only get five hundred words per column. I've wasted two hundred of them already joking about how difficult it is, so I'll just give you the basics. This is the fruit of reading about a hundred articles and embarking on some terrible wardrobe experiments, one of which resulted me going shopping in town resembling a human rubiks cube.
1) Only wear two or three colours at any one time. See rubiks cube statement above.
2) Pretend that you're colour blind. Remember 'blue and green must never be seen'? Rejoice, for the restraining order between cerulean and emerald has been lifted. A detente has been reached and the good news is ringing out all over your wardrobe. Red and pink are similarly jarring bedfellows.
3) The Clash is more than just an band. Red with blue? Yes please! Purple and green? Don't mind if I do! Yellow and teal? Why, I'll have a double portion. Please sir, I want some more!
4) Patterns are not your friends. Red and green is fine, if a little festive. Red and green stripes are a no-no. You're not Bosco, but wear that combo and you'll be sent back in your box. Patterns are generally eye-catching anyway, so they tend to have an America's Next Top Model-worthy fight for attention with contrasting trends. Remember, colour blocking = blocks of colour. That means no patterns allowed. No exceptions.
5) Neutrals are a welcome relief. If your multi-tonal antics are on the verge of inducing seizure, break up the colour party by introducing a neutral shade. Grey works well with cool blues and greens, tan and beige colours can look unexpectedly striking with warm tones. It makes an on-trend twist to all the boring basics.
So now you know the rules. Go forth and block your colours like there's no tomorrow. And if you find yourself looking longingly at stripes, just think to yourself - what would Bosco do?

The work of John Stezaker

2011-02-15T18:38:00.000Z

John Stezaker is one of those artists I really should have heard of before, but haven't until now.

Mask XXXV

His photocollages are reminiscent of Linder Sterling (click here to read about Sterling at the Crawford Gallery) in the powerful subversion of imagery and the unending questioning of the images around us; what makes the day to day pictures we see, whether in advertising or editorial or promotion, such instruments of influence.

Stezaker (a word more difficult to pronounce that 'licentiate') takes the core elements of a picture and turns them on their heads by splicing in another image that is dischordant - with a weirdly harmonic result. It tread the line between beautiful/ugly - often both at once.

That's basically an incredibly pretentious way of saying 'I like this artist. His work is damn cool and I can't stop staring at his pictures'. Here's some more images of Stezaker's work. If you happen to be in London, stroll on down to the Whitechapel Gallery, who are hosting a retrospective of his work before it goes on tour. Click here to listen to a short interview of Stezaker talking about his work

L - Third Person, R - Underworld I

This post is quite photo heavy, so click to see more...

Marriage (Film Portrait IX)

Marriage (Film Portrait XLV)

Mask XLVI

Enter... (Exit)... The Third Person

Untitled (Rose)

L - Film Portrait She VIII, R - Film Portrait Land VIII

Who was the real Holly Golightly?

2011-02-13T19:58:00.001Z

Any fashion blogger worth his or her sodium intake has heard about, if not already read Truman Capote's novella, Breakfast at Tiffany's. The book's heroine, Holly Golightly, is a gadabout girl-about-town with a predisposition for rich men and total character reinvention. She's flighty and flirty. She's a phony - but she's a real phony.

Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly in the 1961 film

I've got a real grá (that's Irish for love, international readers) for Truman Capote. I wrote many essays about him while studying English in university. He was an enfant terrible, an enigma with a cryptic tongue, an interviewer with an uncanny knack to get details out of any source and reduce macho men like Muhammad Ali to tears. When it came to being interviewed, Capote was undeniably economical with the truth.

Playboy: Shortly after publication of Breakfast at Tiffany's, a writer named Bonnie Golightly sued you for $800,000, on the grounds that she was the real-life inspiration for your fictional heroine. At least four other New York girls about town countered with the claim that they were the prototype of Holly. Was the characterisation of Holly based on a real person?
Capote: Yes, but not on any of the people you refer to. The real Holly Golightly was a girl exactly like the girl in Breakfast at Tiffany's, with the single exception that in the books she comes from Texas, whereas the real Holly was a German refugee who arrived in New York at the beginning of the War, when she was 17 years old. Very few people were aware of this, however, because she spoke English without any trace of an accent. She had an apartment in the brownstone where I lived and we became great friends. Everything I wrote about her is literally true - not about her friendship with a gangster called Sally Tomato and all that, but everything about her personality and approach to life, even the most preposterous parts of the book.
- From a 1968 interview with Playboy, click to read

Sorry Truman, I call bullshit on your answer...

People like to search for the 'real' Holly Golightly', just as they want to know who the 'real' Sherlock Holmes is, or the 'real' Sal Paradise. In fiction, there is no 'real' anything, only composites and impressions drawn and interpreted through that writer's vision. Even if the German did exist (which, due to Capote's predisposition for embellishment, I seriously doubt), she's not Holly Golightly. Holly is her and more of the many women in Capote's coterie of female friends, all exceptional, all stylish, all Holly, all the time. Here's a few of Capote's possible influences.

Maeve Brennan

Maeve Brennan at home - Photo by Karl Blissinger

Maeve Brennan moved from Ireland to the USA when she was seventeen. Both Brennan and Capote worked at Harper's Bazaar, which is probably where they met. They also worked at The New Yorker (where Brennan wrote a column called The Long-Winded Lady) at the same time. She was regarded as eccentric, but this soon turned into obsessive behaviour and she became an alcoholic. Towards the end of her life, she was committed to a hospital, where she died in 1993.

Just like Holly - Wore trademark black dresses and dark glasses. Spent far beyond her means. Erratic behaviour. Often had a case of the Mean Reds.
Not so Golightly - Brennan had a real, taxable job and a creative outlet, writing short stories and a novel.

Read more: The Long-Winded Lady , by Maeve Brennan and Maeve Brennan: Wit, Style and Tragedy - An Irish Writer in New York by Angela Bourke

Doris Lilly

Lilly in later years

After Capote published Other Voices, Other Rooms, he became very good friends with Doris Lilly, a blonde starlet who famously dated Gene Kelly and Ronald Reagan and with whom he'd eat dinner and talk for hours. Lilly said "Truman used to come over all the time and watch me put make-up on before I went out..., there's a lot of me in Holly Golightly". Lilly died in 1991 with no money. Her mountain of costume jewellery, given to her by her many admirers over the years, had to be sold off to cover funeral costs.

Just like Holly - Had a thwarted Hollywood career, was a gal-about-town, had a famously pragmatic attitude towards men (Lilly wrote How to Marry a Millionaire, amongst other suggestively titled works and said "Millionaires are marrying their secretaries because they're so busy making money that they haven't time to see other girls"), never actually got to marry a millionaire.
Not so Golightly - Can you see Holly Golightly as a leggy blonde?

Read More - How to Make Love in Five Languages by Doris Lilly

Suzy Parker and Dorian Leigh

Parker (left) and Leigh at a shoot for LIFE Magazine

Parker and Leigh were two sisters who were both models. Leigh was photographed by Irving Penn, Richard Avedon and Cecil Beaton, amongst others. Parker, 15 years younger than Leigh, became Avedon's muse and the face of Chanel during the 50's and 60's.

Just like Holly - Terminal cat owners, use of the fire escape as means of exit and entry, beguiling and hilarious.
Not so Golightly - Both sisters were supposed homebodies and, unlike the champagne and cigarettes Golightly, both were excellent cooks - Leigh even had cordon Bleu training.

Read More - Avedon Fashion 1944 - 2000, by Richard Avedon

There are more women who could be Golightly. If I was to list them all I'd be writing this post for a month. But, that's what's so great about Holly Golightly. She's such a singular character, but she could be anyone. That's why so many women (myself included) identify with her.

Licentiate Column 10/02/11 Transitional Dressing and how to work it

2011-02-10T09:37:00.004Z

I sometimes wonder who thought up the phrase 'Spring has sprung', because I can categorically guarantee that he or she was not an Irish person. In February Spring doesn't so much leap and bound about like an Easter rabbit as it does limp like a semi-retired March hare with a double hip replacement and an inner ear problem.

We all know that there are four seasons; Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter - Ireland is but one temporal nexus in a massive clump of countries where all four seasons make an appearance in one day. You step out on the street in the morning and the walk to work is punctuated by dangerous, icy puddles. It's blisteringly hot as you eat a sandwich in the park on your lunch break.On the way home, your much-needed umbrella gets turned inside-out by gale force winds powered by the unholy sneezes of Zeus.

In the month of February, fashion magazines are stuffed to the gills with articles on transitional dressing, that is, the subtle art of bridging the gap between winter and summer wardrobes without looking like the little girl who broke into her grannies dressing up box and decided that the denim hotpants and the feather-lined parka made a stylish and practical ensemble for all weather eventualities (if you have your own granny-esque dress up box then you deserve a high five - if your granny happens to have a pair of denim hotpants in her dress-up box then give her a high five from me).

Transitional dressing is a bit of a misnomer for temperate places like Melbourne or Cork or Glasgow or Reykjavik, where the time span between seasons can be a matter of minutes. We are forced to dress transitionally all year round, peeling off and putting on more layers than Salome dressed up as an onion at Hallowe'en.

A pessimistic person could argue that the emphasis put on the perceived importance of transitional dressing is one of the unwelcome side effects of global warming; the increasingly uncertain weather means that we have to be prepared for any outcome. A cynical person could argue that transitional dressing is a concerted effort by clothing manufacturers and fashion magazines to sell more clothes and draw in enough full-page advertising to make Vogue look like the Argos catalogue. A realistic person knows that everyone will always be somewhere between hot and cold most of the time, unless you happen to live in Antarctica or on Mercury, so dress accordingly.

There's really only one rule when it comes to transitional dressing, and that is layering. Layer, layer again, then add another layer for luck. Is it rainy but warm? Layer on a light raincoat. Wearing a floaty floral summer dress but unsure of the temperature? Leggings and fine knits are your new best friends.

The cardigan is perpetually useful when the seasons are having mood swings. Simultaneously demure and sexy, in a clichéd 'seductive librarian' way, it can be worn buttoned up, open, around the shoulders, with rolled up sleeves or knotted around the waist.

Transitional dressing is as easy as putting on your clothes. If you can't master that (I'm looking at you, Jodie Marsh) then all hope is lost. For everyone else, this is one trend that will outlast the seasons.

Waiting for Godot (or the fire brigade, whatevs)

2011-02-09T10:10:00.002Z

I did have a huge post planned, with pictures and footnotes and reading lists, I really did. The only trouble is, I left my notes in my notebook, which is on my kitchen table. On top of that, I can't get into my apartment block due to the fire alarm going off and weird, suspiciously burning-ish smells coming from the lift.

I wish I was joking. If my flat burns down with my copy of Cheap and Chic Update in it, I'm going to be maaaad.

I'll have to post it on Friday - but here's some video candy - take it as an 'I'll make it up to you, I swear!'

HACHIKO ft Kiko Mizuhara for L'UOMO VOGUE from AntoineAsseraf+RenéHabermacher on Vimeo.

Directed by Rene Habermacher, this video plays with a story he heard about a dog who waited for his owner at a train station every day, even after the master stopped taking the train... Maybe he died. I like to think that he decided to take the bus instead and forgot to send his dog the memo.

Maybe that's what happened to this girl. She's waiting for the fire marshals to let her back in her apartment block, but they forgot to tell her and went home...

EDIT: All clear. Phew.

In context: Rene Gruau and John Galliano

2011-02-07T16:43:00.001Z

I've blogged about Rene Gruau before and was delighted to see that John Galliano had sifted through the archive to draw inspiration from a man who helped to mould the Dior image with his illustrations throughout the 50's and 60's.

I have much love for Gruau's work but his books are all out of print and sell for serious money on eBay - the closest thing I have to a print is a card I received for my university graduation, which has lasted through several house moves and now has pride of place on my fridge.

Gruau's work is painterly, spontaneous, cheeky, seductive, inimitable and just a tiny bit risqué - all words that you could also use to describe Galliano's work.

Gruau'l illustrations for Dior

This illustration was used for Dior Cherie and was also a promotional image for the recent Gruau/Dior exhibition at Somerset house

It's great to see that Galliano hasn't used the clichéd 50's silhouettes that are being done to death. His subversive eye tallies more with translating Gruau's often abstract paintmarks and translating them into dresses. A Philip Treacy headpiece looks like a brush stroke and an exclamation point to top off an outfit. A bow mutates into a shimmering tulle overlay on a ballgown. A train folds and is tucked so it becomes a whole with a dress. All the dresses have a fluidity that is synonymous with Gruau's work. More brush strokes are transposed onto the skirts themselves. Gruau's trademark love of opera gloves is evident. And the make-up! Ah, the make-up... No shading - just black, white and red.

What do you think of Galliano's couture?

Licentiate Column 03/02/11

2011-02-03T16:20:00.000Z

Paddy Englishman, Paddy Irishman and Paddy Scotsman walk into a bar. Englishman is wearing a riding habit, resplendent in jodphurs and red jacket. Scotsman is no less magnificent in tweed plus fours, wielding a golf club and swinging his familial tartan scarf over his brawny neck. Paddy Irishman is decked out in a three piece suit in varying shades of emerald green and pristine patent slippers, offset with unnecessarily large silver buckles.

Who's the odd one out? Surprise, surprise, it's the Irishman. While all three men are exemplary cliches, only the Irishman's clothing has no basis in fact whatsoever. Englishmen have been known to wear riding habits and some Scottish people don tweed from time to time (where do you think Chanel got the idea for all those suits?) but the Jolly Green Getup? That territory has been untouched by Irish Man, with the possible exception of Paul Galvin.

What is Irish style? The French have their innate chicness and tendency to favour quality over quantity, the Americans their cult of grooming and the English their mix of heritage and eccentricity. What do the Irish have that marks them out from everyone else? Could you pick out an Irish person in a foreign country if they weren't wearing a hurling jersey and a bad case of sunburn?

It's not that we don't have a long tradition of manufacturing distinctly Irish clothing. We did that hundreds of years ago and still do now- it's just that the Irish message has got lost in translation in an effort to engage in global communication. Consider the Aran jumper; originating from the Aran Islands in the west of Ireland. Even the stitches are imbued with a Celtic mysticism. The cable in the cable knit signifies an integral part of the Aran fishermen's trade as well as a talisman to ensure safety while on the sea. How much does this matter to the Topshop stylist who believes that they are an integral part of Scottish life, as well as being totally on trend? Zilch. Zippo. Zip.

Irish clothing also has the tendency to assimilate with the style of other countries. Take the brogue, the most famous manufacturer of which is Church's, a quintessentially British brand. Church's brogues come with different tips, perforations and colours, English stamps on an Irish template. It's not a bad thing (if it's good enough for Alexa Chung, it's definitely good enough for me) but a smidge of Gaelic recognition wouldn't go awry. The same goes for Irish lace and linens, Donegal tweeds, sturdy woolens and intricate Celtic patterns.

But what gives an Irish person her style? I don't think that it's as easy as popping on a geansaí; it's something else - indistinct, but still indelible. I don't think that Irish style is truly represented by the beaming, perma-tanned, body-conned lovelies that we often see hanging off rugby players or doing promotions for Bavaria on Stephen's Green.

For me, great Irish style is loose and slightly rumpled, like a poet taking in a liquid lunch in a boreen. The look is always slightly undone; hair is loose and natural, a top button on a shirt must never be done up. It's well put together, nicely thought but never overwrought. Low maintenance,high impact. It's always been there, so we don't think to much about it or wonder why other people don't notice.

We're so laid back that we don't question the implications of our appearance. And, with the typical luck of the Irish, it's that laid back casualness that makes Irish style great.

Black Swan Costume Controversy

2011-02-02T12:48:00.001Z

Sometimes Twitter is great. It is excellent for getting news as it happens, but it's also excellent for drowning in a sea of ill-informed statements. It's like watching Jeremy Kyle if he could only shout in 140 characters at a time.

Case in point; the news that the Mulleavy sisters of Rodarte would not be credited if the film was nominated for Best Costumes (which... it wasn't). People mass tweeted that Rodarte had been snubbed and that they hoped that costume designer Amy Westcott would hand over the Oscar to the Mulleaveys when Black Swan won (er, pre-emptive much?).

One of Westcott's original designs for Nina, via Clothes on Film

What I don't know about costume design in film could fill an Olympic-sized swimming pool. I do know, however, that it takes an army to do good costuming, which Black Swan has in spades. Designer Amy Westcott gave a very insightful interview to Clothes on Film (read it!), which not only explores the process of designing for a film, but also details exactly how Rodarte made their contribution.

With all the negative press that Westcott has received, she's understandably a bit defensive when it comes to Rodarte, saying that "Controversy is too complimentary a word for two people using their considerable self-publicising resources to loudly complain about their credit once they realise how good the film is".

I might be missing something here, but since when did the Mulleavy's come out and complain about their credit? Did they release a statement or quote that they were angry or felt snubbed? I haven't seen a single article concerning the supposed snubs that involved a reporter or blogger talking to a Rodarte rep? It would seem that the media have created this controversy all by themselves. Westcott is totally justified in defending herself and her work, but an unsupported attack on Rodarte's motivations only serves to diminish her.

The story is still evolving, so what do you think? Is this a storm in a teacup or are Rodarte secretly PR evil geniuses?

The Clothes On Their Backs

2011-01-31T21:28:00.002Z

Riccardo Tisci's Givenchy couture offerings this season were all about Asian influence. It's little wonder, because Asia and all the rich facets of it's culture are slowly permeating Western consciousness. Asia also has a major commercial influence, what with Prada joining the ever-increasing ranks of companies choosing to list in Hong Kong as opposed to their home markets.

This collection draws on a LOT of Asian influences (butoh, Kazuo Ohno, anime, embroidery, cranes, dragons... the list goes on) but I'm really interested in (as far as my incredibly amateurish, untrained eyes can see) the samurai and origami influences.

Japanese samurai circa 1870

When you go on websites that feature this collection and the insano, day-glo Philip Treacy headgear, the comments section is inevitably clogged with cries of 'VIKING!' - you can really see the influence of the samurai helmets. Irrelevant note alert - One of my favourite places to go in the V&A Museum in London is the Japanese section to look at all the samurai uniform. It's all so intricate and well crafted. Every aspect of the samurai uniform is carefully considered; every colour, every fold, every image has a cultural or practical significance. Perhaps it's this attention to detail that aligns it so well with Givenchy.

Samurai circa 1880

You can really see the samurai and origami influences in the sharpness and angularity of the shoulders. The pink motif above looks like it could be a representation of a samurai helmet (or a backpack in the shape of a bug if you think about it in a Rorschach kinda way). I love the pristine whiteness of this dress. It's like a fresh piece of paper begging to be folded into all sorts of magical shapes.

Origami samurai helmets

The headgear made so much more sense when I saw these mini samurai helmets made out of paper. I know that it's supposed to be based on robots... but I like thinking it's an origami samurai helmet. Let me have my wrongfooted delusion, ok? Here is a link if you want to make a tiny samurai helmet and wear it on your finger.

I'm not very good at conclusions, so let me just say that the Givenchy collection is beautiful and batshit crazy. Just the way I like it.

Round Up/Links Dump... eh... thing

2011-01-30T17:26:00.000Z

I'm not going to lie - I've been a bad blogger lately. Inspiration has been low and I've come to the end of the broadband contract, so the flat is internetless. And cold. But that's beside the point. Most of the blog writing has been done in a very dodgy internet cafe near my flat, populated with sleeping winos and people conducting very loud arguments via Skype.

But, and this is a big but, I do have some cool and interesting stuff in the pipeline, which shall be revealed in due time. Here are a few interesting links to show you that I'm still connected to the world in some way and tide the regular readers (thanks guys...) over 'til I get my blogging mojo back.

- I've got a facebook profile - fancy being friends?

- Disneyrollergirl revealed! There goes my claim to fame of seeing the back of her head at London Fashion Week in September...

- Free samples of Elizabeth Arden 8 Hour Cream. This stuff is amazing - the offer is only open to people in the UK and Ireland. Go forth and be moisturised (or accelerate the rate of burn recovery if that's what floats your boat).

I'm really looking forward to watching this at The Pavilion, Cork tonight. The Way of the Crowd is about the Wigan Casino, which was the epicentre of the Northern Soul scene. When Paul Smith is one of the talking heads, you know it's going to be interesting. I'm also looking forward to seeing some flash dance moves afterwards. It's what I imagine I look like when I'm drunk - the reality is much crueler.

- The-Coveted vs.thecoveted drama; get informed and weigh in with your opinion.

- Friend of The Licentiate, Jo Linehan of S-oh S-ew! is competing to be one of Elle Magazine's next fashion interns - go throw her a vote if you have a spare moment (maybe this way she'll hire me when she becomes a Big Shot Editor Type).

- I noticed that my column from last week didn't recieve the same amount of feedback as the others normally do. The views are the same, so I'm wondering if it's the subject. Do fashion and politics mix? Or is Margeret Thatcher too evil/sacred to comment on? Let me know what you think. Click here to read the column if you haven't got the foggiest notion what I'm on about.

Licentiate Column 26/01/11

2011-01-27T12:50:00.000Z

I'll listen to everything that I'm told, but I almost never listen to a) my father or b) political news. Both are fond of grand pronouncements, hyperbolic accusations and statements resulting in a sense of self-loathing the likes of which The National Enquirer can only dream of publishing.

It's fortunate that the one time I actually did listen to my father was in regards to politics - a double whammy that filled up my aural assault quota quite nicely, thank you very much. He told me that the population of Ireland is close to the population of Manchester, but we have as many political representatives as country ten times Ireland's size. The result is a tin-pot government, unable or unwilling to pull itself out of the country's present funk due to a lethal combination of corruption, ineptitude and a misguided sense of self-entitlement.

Ireland needs a Maggie Thatcher. Calm down now, put down your pitchforks and Poll Tax paraphenalia, I'm not suggesting for a nanosecond that Ireland needs a woman who refuses people a fair wage, denies small children their calcium and plays with the power grid as if it was a tricky dimmer switch.

Margaret Thatcher was the Iron Lady, a politician that you could legitimately hate for legitimate reasons. With her navy blue power shoulders and impervious helmet of hair, she personified the cold, steely, uncaring gaze of an impassive statue, unflinching at the chaos she was causing. Our politicians bumble about more than the Three Stooges and the Marx Brothers in a bouncy castle and retain the slightly greasy sheen of stress-induced sweating as if was going out of fashion (which it is). The rumpled suits of Brian Cowen only add to his frazzled 'Whoops, there goes the Central Bank!' aura. The shoulders of his suits are cut exclusively for faux-contrite shrugging or incredibly defensive prognostication. Ireland's politicians are every bit as as bad as Thatcher; their shambolic, pseudo-apologetic clothing is the only thing to dictate otherwise.

We need politicians to smarten up and fly right. The adoption of Margaret Thatcher as a sartorial National Treasure in Britain despite the deep well of public hatred (she was photographed for Vogue by Mario Testino in 2008) should draw attention to the power of the right suit in the face of gross ineptitude. We need a decisive leader who can take charge, preferably with a swift jab of an Aquascutum handbag and the flash of a well-turned out ankle (Brian Lenihan or Enda Kenny, I'm looking at you).

What we really need are some good politicians, but since that's a near impossibility, we should just tart up the terrible ones that we have. Give them some small veneer of public professionalism with the right clothing and attitude, and we'll have reason to double our complaints. Backcomb Mary Harney's hair and cement with a pint of hairspray into the eponymous Thatch, pop her into a pair of suitable Ferragamos and presto! We have a new Maggie.

A term coined appropriately at the apex of Reaganism and Thatcherism, 'politics is showbusiness for ugly people' still stands strong today. And if that really is the case, then we're all watching Eastenders - not Questions and Answers.

John Galliano - or is it?

2011-01-25T09:19:00.008Z

What fashion blogette worth her salt doesn't have Fashion Gone Rogue on her reader? Everyone has their reason for clicking; their favourite models, labels, stylists and photographers are all there. I'm not the biggest fan of editorials, but I do love their Morning Beauty feature - chock full of notable picks that you might not have seen the first time around.

Here's part of a shoot from Vogue Paris' Dec/Jan '06/'07 issue - Dans la Peau de John Galliano, photographed by Peter Lindbergh, styled by new Vogue Paris editrix Emmanuelle Alt and starring Sasha Pivovarova as, er, John Galliano. The resemblance is uncanny.

I Heart Shen Plum

2011-01-24T16:07:00.000Z

I'm having a serious girl crush moment on the work of Toronto-based illustrator Shen Plum, whose line drawings are a mix of storybook perfection (anthropomorphic animals)and gorgeous, brightly-hued girls with prismatic rainbow accents

Yeah Yeah Yeah's Karen O

Pics 2-4 from Girls Girls Girls (hopefully nothing to do with the Motley Crue song)

Mournful but not morbid, ethereal without being wishy-washy and dreamlike without veering into cliched 'fairy-Lula-girl-in-a-wood-with-a-floaty-dress-on-a-tyre-swing' territory. Just my cup of tea.

Shen Plum shows her stuff mainly in Toronto, but you can buy jewellery and other bits from her Etsy shop, prints from ES Illustration and super-cool badges from Stereohype, which are getting nicely settled into my wish list as I type.

I want to be a Teddy Girl

2011-01-21T13:04:00.001Z

Before Ken Russell was shocking us with his films and I was astounding the world with my poor command of Photobucket (hence the higgledy-piggledy pictures), he was a photographer. You could probably say that he was one of the first street style photographers. His pictures were brought to my attention in a guest post by new Licentiate fave Vagabond Language. His documenting of the working-class Teddy Boys and Girls in the 50's are a source of endless inspiration.

Throw in a viewing of Nowhere Boy, where the young John Lennon mixes with all kinds of Teds and Julies, and an obsession is born.

Fancy some swag?

2011-01-20T15:47:00.001Z

I'm giving away a copy of the Isabella Blow bio 'Blow by Blow'. Written by the late, great stylist's husband, the books is relevatory and revealing in equal measures. Entering the giveaway is uncomplicated, you just have to be a fan of The Licentiate on facebook. Click the link or the sidebar on the right, then leave me a comment on the facebook page telling me why you want the book. G'luck.

Licentiate Column 20/01/11

2011-01-20T12:49:00.001Z

Have you been watching Mad Men? I was unaware of the hype surrounding the acclaimed American drama until this Christmas, when I was presented with the first two seasons of the show. On Monday, I sat down to watch an episode. A few days, and the development of some very square eyes later, I have finished the box set.

It is an excellent programme; smart, funny, knowing, genuine, mysterious, well-written and excellently characterised. And stylish, incredibly so. Interweaved into the lives of the Mad Men, the ad men in the grey flannel suits, waft three very different woman; Betty, the highly-strung, neurotic ex-wife of leading man Don Draper, Joan, the sexually voracious, va-va-voom office manager and Peggy, the token woman copywriter in a man's man's world.

It's unsurprising then that the style of Mad Men has become a source of inspiration for shoppers and designers everywhere. Prada's A/W '11 collection was lifted heavily from the strict, ultra feminine silhouette of the show, incorporating cat's eye spectacles, sinched-in waists, circle skirts and bouffant do's. 'Mad Men' has become one of the most searched terms for vintage clothing vendors on the internet - for women in search of that perfect 'downtrodden housewife' look.

Every aspect of the show is carefully considered. Even the books that Don and Betty read reflect their personalities and periods of mental stasis in some way. This attention to detail is no different in the costuming; designer Janie Bryant has very specific colours and patterns assigned to each female character. Betty has pretty floral dresses in classic shapes á la Grace Kelly, Joan wears jewel bright tones and form-fitting shapes and Peggy gets the short end of the stick with checks, plaids and a particularly nacreous shade of mustard.

It makes perfect sense that women who emulate the Mad Men style are characterised as either a Joan or a Betty. In one episode of the show, a Playtex campaign is pitched with the conceit that a woman is either a Marilyn or a Jackie. One is straight-up-and-down, the other has an abundance of curves. One is a wife struggling with her husband's numerous infidelites, the other is a fleshpot with a more pragmatic view of human couplings.

In truth, the only difference between Joan and Marilyn or Betty and Jackie is the colour of their hair. Yes, they look great, but would you really want to be either of them?

I like Peggy best. She's smart, she's savvy, her character is the one who has evolved the most consistently, from timid secretary in little-girl dresses to a no-nonsense, helmet-haired boardroom babe in navy fitted suits. She works hard and tackles all obstacles head-on. It's a testament to her character that her wardrobe is the least appealing to the viewers but she manages to retain an aura of chic. I may have a vintage plaid dress or two hanging up in the wardrobe in homage to this particular proto feminist (just not in mustard, my admiration only stretches so far).

In the Playtex pitch meeting, Peggy counters that she is neither a Marilyn or a Jackie. Her male equivalents variously describe her a Gertrude Stein or a young Irene Dunne. In truth, Peggy is neither, but is unequivocally herself. Neither Jackie nor Marilyn, but inimatably Peggy - individuality is a Mad Men style that will always be in fashion.

I'm a bad widdle blogger...

2011-01-17T12:59:00.001Z

I've been known to repost the odd blog post. I'm extremely gratified that views for this blog have increased and so I like to show new readers a few bits that they might have missed. But this is different. This is a repost of a repost. I have gone that far. Revoke my blogging license, for I have broken all the golden rules!

This originally surfaced on my first blog, which was terrible. I reposted it on The Licentiate in March and I'm reposting it now, because, frankly, who doesn't like to watch how miserable Karl Lagerfeld is on Blue Monday? Enjoy...

To quote the big K himself:

“I hate birthdays, ... It's more like a new starting point in New York. For me, it's an evolution. I don't celebrate the past. I like the present and tomorrow.”

Here are links for the curious mid 90's doc "Karl Lagerfeld Is Never Happy Anyway", which must have the worst soundtrack of all time. The audio for the last part is disabled, ostensibly because of copyright, but we all know that it's really disabled because the world would be a much crueler place if it was not. Plus there are subtitles for those short on brain and/or German language skills. We all know what happens in the end anyway; he loses a pile of weight, becomes the voice of Fabu in the new Totally Spies film and also becomes the subject of the fantastic 'Lagerfeld Confidential'.

Happy Evolution Sir Lagerfeld.

EDIT: The person who uploaded these videos have made them private for some reason. Here are a few screenshots from a VICE Style article. Read the article. It will tell you everything you need to know about this documentary. And I'm sorry about not noticing earlier. This is what comes out of being a lazy bum.

Licentiate Column 13/01/11

2011-01-13T09:29:00.002Z

I'd like to thank everyone who has voted for me so far as one of Ireland's most influential bloggers . The competition is ending tomorrow at 6pm Irish time, so I'm going to make a final (very annoying) push for more votes. If you've voted before you can vote again (it's every 24 hours). The instructions for voting are on the page. I'm just about creaking into the top ten and I'd love to stay there but I'm neck and neck with another blog - so I really really do need them votes. Click here - I'm number 42!

*Public Service Announcement over - on to this week's column...*

Today I picked up a nice, shiny magazine. You know, the kind of nice, shiny magazine full of nice, shiny clothes with nice, shiny prices. The kind of magazine that issues the most hallowed and anticipated of all biannual supplements (barring Heat Magazine's soul-crushing celebrity swimsuit pull-outs) - the catwalk report.

We'll just call this magazine a generic, vaguely evocative French word. Let's call it Haute. I love Haute because it is cover-to-cover with beautiful people, fairytale settings and clothes you and I can never afford. It is pure escapism. It inhabits a world totally inaccessible and separate to our own, albeit one that we can peer into just by briefly licking our thumbs and flicking a page corner, like a version of Alice and the Looking-Glass for shopping addicts.

Magazines like Haute publish the catwalk reports as a way of imposing themselves into our world. Haute has picked up the Looking Glass and smashed it over Alice's head. It's less assimilation - more indoctrination.

The idea is to pick and choose which aspects of which collection appeal most to you and blend it into your wardrobe; simple things like (a) bold block colours or (b) simple tailoring or (c) a pair of flared jeans. You're not really supposed to wear the catwalk look from head to toe, because if you did, you'd look a bit like (a) a lego brick, (b) an extra from Logan's Run or (c) a Studio 54 reject for whom the party has long since ended.

This season Haute is championing the Luxe Sportswear trend. 'Luxe' does not mean 'luxury', rather 'Luxe Sportswear' means 'Expensive Tracksuits... In Impractical Heels'. Popularised by designer Alexander Wang, Luxe Sportswear has been around for a few seasons and is defined by distressed shrunken leather biker jackets with leggings, oversized t-shirts, lace-up heeled boots and enough grey jersey to swaddle a million coltish-legged prepubescent models. Nothing we haven't seen before.

Luxe Sportswear is perverse; it pairs the practical with the impractical. Waterproof neoprene, traditionally found in wetsuits, is used to construct soft, shell-like bodycon dresses. Joggerbums are worn with towering heels.

The neoprene dresses I can understand. It's an unorthodox material and, because it's such a stiff fabric, it can hold it's shape and produce some unexpectedly beautiful results. The heel and tracksuit pants? Oho no.

Today I saw a woman walking down the street wearing a pair of billowing khaki jersey pants. The cuffs of said pants were tucked into spindly McQueen-esque lace-up heels of the same hue. Her gait was circumspect, possibly because every step she took would inflate a pant leg like a runaway wind sock in a wheezing gale.

Apart from that segue into the risible, Luxe Sportswear is fully representative of it's beloved grey jersey. It's boring.

Even the ringleader of the bland, sorry, grand circus, Alexander Wang, is getting tired of the monsters he has created. He is quoted in interviews, saying "If I see another distressed black leather motorcycle jacket, I'm going to shoot myself in the face".

That's a bit harsh, Mr Wang. Perhaps you should make your weapon a water pistol instead. When the time comes for that fateful splashing, pray that you'll be wearing neoprene.

My Personal Style Resolutions #15: Skinni Peach

2011-01-11T18:11:00.000Z

Hey Licentiate readers! My name is Dawn and Im the little lady behind Skinni Peach (the skinny on all things peachy). My blog is heavy on beauty ramblings with hints of fashion bits here and there. I write the beauty and fashion pages for RSVP Magazine along with spa reviews and a few features too. Sarah asked me to jot down my style resolutions for this sparkly new year – so.... have you got ALL DAY? The only thing holding me back is my pathetic bank balance!

My Style At The Mo: It varies. I’m in love with anything feminine. The 1940’s and 50’s are my fav eras and my wardrobe is full of dresses inspired by these decades. I’ll be buried in my skinny jeans and at the mo I’m stuck in a floral rut. Anything floral, I gotta have it, it just screams, “Hey, I’m a lady!!.” Give me anything peach or nude and I’ll be yours forever!

2011 Style: Even though the winter chill still whispers through the air the new Spring lines are hitting the high street soon and this year Im loving the spanking new trends. Lace, nudes, print, feminine chiffons, colour blocking, wedges and orientalism...I WANT IT ALL!! But there’s a few things I have my eyes on (although their all COMPLETELY out of my price range, but a girl can wish!). My style resolution this year is to embrace every trend in some way or another. I’ve picked my cream of the crop below...do we share a trend love?

Valentino Lace-trimmed cashmere-blend shawl – the perfect nude colour with an oriental twist.

Diane Von Furstenburg Opal leather wedge sandals – NEED these!

Reiss peacock lace dress – bang on the modern romance trend with the right amount of lace and chiffon to boot.

Betty Jackson Dress – staying on trend with the colour blocking sticking with my fav 50’s inspired twist.

Oasis Pussybow blouse – I bought this 70’s-esque blouse during the week so my style resolution is on the right track!

My Personal Style Resolutions #14: Glamrocks Luna

2011-01-11T11:00:00.008Z

Firstly big thank you to Sarah for letting us be guest bloggers on The Licentiate! It is a privilege to be asked. We are two fashion bloggers / stylists/ very excited to say vintage online shop owners!! You can check out our blog here. Follow us on facebook and on twitter. If anyone fancies a little New Year's vintage shopping here is a link to our shop tabitha!

Now all the shameless plugging over let's get down to business! The pair of us sat down and discussed our style resolutions for the New Year. The only thing we can conclude after a long chat is that we are getting old! 2011 is going to see us taking more time and thinking about what we are buying. Gone are the days of walking into a shop and buying an item because you love it. It is time to start thinking more about picking clothes, accessories and shoes that will tie into our existing wardrobes. It may sound a little sad but its true.
In fact, a certain half of this blogging duo was a fiend for spotting something shiny or floral or aztec printed and just buying because they "reaallly needed it"..which has resulted in an awkward situation of every time they open their wardrobe they have a pattern induced seizure.

So, what we're trying to say is there is no point having tons of items in your wardrobe and not being able to create an outfit with them. What is needed is some staple items and a little creativity.

It's also a good idea to stick to a colour palette that suits you. This needn't be boring, like oh I can only wear grey or green is my colour. It could be as simple as picking frosty or warm tones depending on your skin tone / hair colour etc.

We have also mastered the art of male shopping. "Ehhh what?" you ask...

Well men have an amazing ability to wake up and say "Oh i really need a white tshirt". They then go to a store, pick out a top in their size then bam, approx. 56 seconds later they are walking out the door t-shirt in hand.

So a good way of doing this (plus it completely cuts down on impulse shopping ) is to decide what stores you're going to hit ,scour their website and have a wish list ready to just pounce on the items and leave before you decide to "just take a look at the shoes for a second... Oohhh they are amazing... and reduced, ohh......." etc etc.

At the same time there are vintage shops offering amazing one off clothes that are wacky and bright and sequined and tattered ,totally bananas but completely deadly.
When things like this come along and you must have them, just make sure you have a good staple in your wardrobe to pair them with..for example denim shorts / skinnies / plain blouse .

So, these are our resolutions for 2011... Obviously, we're going to fall off the wagon now and then with a pit stop in Penney's resulting in 40 euro of pointless nonsense being bought, but we're ok with that . It's inevitable. Just like my heathy eating resolution will probably come to a crashing end with me ordering everything in Eddie Rockets one day after work because I cant cope with another lettuce leaf.

But we'll have tried, and that's all that matters right?

We hope you have a healthy and happy New Year!!

Lou and Una

Pic via weheartit

My Personal Style Resolutions #13 Blondorexic

2011-01-10T18:06:00.006Z

My name is Sian, and I run Blondorexic - it's a mash-up of outfit posts, editorials and pictures I find inspirational, with the occasional video thrown in. I like to look at the transition fashion makes from design, to runway, to street, and I try to bring this across in my blog. My main inspiration source is film. I'm also studying History at Trinity College Dublin, and tend to base my outfit posts on a student budget.

2011, unlike most New Years, definitely seems to be a year for change. Normally I don't even bother making resolutions, and, besides style resolutions, this year was exactly the same with one difference - I became a productive person. Both my bedroom and wardrobe have gone through a complete overhaul in the past week - a far cry from my usual post-Christmas food-induced stupor that renders me completely useless until the return to college.

So with this can-do attitude in mind (wouldn't Obama be proud!), I firmly decided upon my 2011 Style Resolution: The Five Piece French Wardrobe.

When I first read about this on afterdrk.freshnet.se, I thought it was far too extreme a wardrobe diet for someone who buys as many clothes as I do to undertake. However, on closer inspection, the Five Piece French Wardrobe could be exactly what I, and my fellow recession-damaged shopaholics need. The main rule of the diet is to only buy five new key pieces per season (ie. ten per year), not including basics. It's up to you to decide on the rest of the rules, like if you want shoes to be included as one of the five pieces, or hats, or jewellery...you get the point. I had wanted to start buying less, but better clothing, so this 'diet' seems perfect.

In a dream world, my five key pieces for this season would be...

A Vintage Yves Saint Laurent brown leather clutch. (click to see) It's the perfect summer clutch - classy enough for nights out, casual enough for barbeques, and big enough to fit all of your summery things in.

via luisaviaroma

Nina Ricci Draped Nabuk Wedges. Again, another item that could carry you throughout Spring and Summer, and could be succesfully worn with any number of different outfits. I'd wear them with black ankle socks, denim cut-offs and an oversized black shredded tee, YSL clutch tucked stylishly under my arm, of course..

via net-a-porter

See by Chloé scalloped cotton and silk-blend jersey dress. I think getting a dress is very important when following these rules, as it's an entire outfit in itself. This is another really versatile piece - nude goes with everything, black goes with everything, Chloe goes with anything... How could you go wrong?

via topshop

Premium Red Suede Strap Biker Jacket. Living in Ireland, a good jacket is necessary even in Summer. This cranberry red suede is absolutely irresistible - it would be such a delicious colour on tanned skin. I did say in a dream world..

via luisaviaroma

AQA Contemporary Opals Ring. No girl can resist jewellery, and my personal favourite is a statement ring. You can't get more statement than this opal beauty from AQA; have that resting on your finger and nobody will even glance at the rest of your outfit.

Whether I have the willpower to stick to the Five Piece French Wardrobe and resist Primark's catwalk copies remains to be seen, but, just like the majority of the Irish people, what my wardrobe could really use is a diet after weeks of over-indulging. Hopefully my wardrobe's willpower is stronger than that of the majority of Irish people.

Happy New Year!

Sian. x

My Personal Style Resolutions #12: Rose Tinted Uncertainty

2011-01-10T11:00:00.007Z

Rose Tinted Uncertainty is a blog filled with loads of things from heels to screen prints, petticoats to freckles. Everything that fills up the ever girly, ever curvy and ever obsessed with fashion world of me (Rhona), founder of Rose Tinted Uncertainty, is on there.

What’s in a shoe? Your foot… obviously, and that is what I want to talk about, my feet and more importantly my shoes.

My New Years resolution is to wear more heels (it’s the same as last year) and to teach my feet that heels are their friend and not their foe. For a girl who loves heels it’s very upsetting to know that my feet don’t agree…

I’m getting on in years (almost 21!) and I am slowly but surely turning into a woman. But I want to be more than a woman, I want to be a lady (really really badly) and as well as being polite and kind (I promise I am working on them) a lady wears heels. So you can see my dilemma, I have feet who want to stay young and wear little girl mary-janes and converse and will not listen to the rest of my body which is dying to be a lady. Stubborn little feet, aren’t they?

So my cunning plan is to get loads (don’t know where I’ll store them) of mid-heeled shoes for the daytime. Cute little fifties style ones, as well heeled brogues and loafers. This way my feet will be slightly raised all day and when I wish to wear my stilettoes it won’t seem such an ordeal for my stubborn little feet.

I know what you’re thinking, “flawless plan Rhona, you’re a genius!” But unfortunately there is a reason why it is the same resolution as last year. I bought loads of heels last year but nearly all of them were really high so I had little to no mid heels for the day. This of course resulted in the same problem as the year before- really sore feet when I ventured out in my stilettoes.

So I have to restrain myself and buy only mid-heeled shoes (unless I come across an amazing pair of high heels that I will have to get or face a painful death- but only then). It will be hard, I am addicted to shoes and I’ve no job so it isn’t as if I can buy both high and mid-heeled shoes.

So it is a good thing that there are loads of fabulous mid-heeled shoes available in Office. Fair play to them, they are all so beautiful! I will take all of these please…

All shoes from Office

Hopefully this year I will keep on track…

Rhona xx

Blog: http://rosetinteduncertainty.blogspot.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/rose-tinted-uncertainty/10150139582720058?ref=ts
Bloglovin: http://www.bloglovin.com/en/blog/1433365/rose-tinted-uncertainty

My Personal Style Resolutions #11: Blink and You'll Miss

2011-01-09T13:43:00.000Z

Hello! Kellebelle here from Blink and You’ll Miss. My blog is a mixture of personal style blog posts, general musings about fashion and some little rants thrown in for good measure! X

My Personal Style New Years Resolutions

Sometimes I feel I can get stuck in a bit of a fashion rut this time of year. You know the way it gets – picking the cosy, snugly, shapeless jumper over anything that resembles ‘chic’.

I get up for work at 5.30am to be in for 6am and I find it hard sometimes to throw on blazers or any non-cardigan shaped item! Plus at that hour of the morning it takes all my will-power not go into work in my pjs and hoodie!

I’ll do anything really to get a few extra minutes in bed, breakfast in work equals an extra three minutes in my leaba so I lay out my clothes the night before. But again, the blazer that looked so nice the previous night now feels like cold cardboard against my skin so it’s flung into a far corner in favour of some woolly knits!

When I used to work on the later shifts I was always a bit dressier in work; heels, blazers etc. So my resolution is to look like I didn’t get dressed in the dark wearing whatever was nearest the radiator. Toasty!

This year, 2011, I’ve decided is going to be different! Well, the days will eventually get brighter and the snow (I hope!) is well and truly gone. I think my work wardrobe is in need of a bit of a revamp - of course I don’t want to banish the knits altogether and they can make a nice faux-duvet on my desk!

Photos: Topshop

My Personal Style Resolutions #10: SoooAli

2011-01-08T10:00:00.006Z

In between studying History of Art and Architecture with Early Irish, Ailbhe loves traveling, cooking and above all, fashion. Her habits are funded by a part-time job as a lifeguard. Somehow she finds time to update Soooali.com with personal style photos, editorials and interviews.

My resolutions follow the calendar of the fashion world and therefore come twice a year! I find it difficult to remain determined all through the year and so doing this makes my resolutions a little easier to stick to. Okay, okay I'll just be honest here, I always fail after a month and I have less time to feel guilty if I change resolutions every few months! Now of course the 'find a solution for world peace' and 'get rich in order to buy a Chloe handbag... I mean, give money to charity' are ongoing resolutions for the rest of my life. Don't we all have a couple? But for next year here is what I plan on doing... at some stage or another:

1. Start a diet, go the gym, uh what other punishments are we humans supposed to endure?

2. Stop making lists and start doing what's actually on them. I am such a procrastinator.

3. Vow to write every appointment etc in my moleskine. I can be scatty at times.

4. Get rid of my leopard print obsession. Immediately. Leopard print scrunchies were the limit. They are not attractive.

5. Get into the 70's trend though I'm a little afraid to embrace the flares again, memories of parachute pants haunt me!

6. Finish a bottle of nail varnish before buying another in the exact same colour...even if it is another brand! Yes that is a picture of just a few of the polishes I own...ahem.

7. Buy more investment pieces...i.e. stay away from Penney’s for a while and save some money.

8. Sort out my wardrobe and get rid of all the fluff in between. Oxfam is going to have a feast!

9. Start looking after my skin; it gets a lick of water every now and then. I have so many products, but never follow through with all the fuss. The wrinkles are appearing though, so it's about time!

10. I guess my main resolutions have the underlying theme of consume less and save more. If I achieve that one little bit I'll be happy.

Finally thank you Sarah for having me, this is my first ever guest post and it was really fun to do. I love reading your site and wish you all the best in 2011!

ali@soooali.com

http://www.soooali.com/
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Soooalicom/149143378460661
http://twitter.com/Soooali

My Personal Style Resolutions #9: What Will I Wear Today

2011-01-07T18:30:00.003Z

Jennie here from What Will I Wear Today. WWIWT is a collection of sisters and friends who have created an outpouring of rantings, musings and observations in the form of a fashion blog. There is much wry humour, some personal styling, a fair bit of cheeky filming and some pretty cool illustrations – all the ladies like to throw their hat in the ring by utilising their own skillsets.

Come one, come all; tis a place of sartorial safety, fashion community and stylish distraction.

As I sit here and write this, I'm already doubtful as to how realistic my resolution is. I should give it up. I could give it up. But I don't actually want to give up my dirty ‘ol habit. It's hugged me in a warm embrace over the years; shielded me from the cold, buffered me from judgement, swaddled me in love.

What is this grubby little fashion faux pas? Why it's the Tracksuit my dear friends - that heinous, arch-nemesis of fashion. That slovenly ying to the well-groomed yang of fashion.

I love every kind of tracksuit; I’m not fussy. Zip ups, hoodies, feiffer pants (fat heiffer - for those ‘dirty chicken baguette and a packet of Monster Munch’ days), oversized tee's etcetc. And I'm not talking gym gear - oh no - I have pristine, aero-dynamic, streamlined gym gear that has a very distinct identity and a separate shelf in the wardrobe. Nope, my dressed-down look is messy, mis-matched and maddening to my fashionable alter-ego. Sometimes I like to perceive it as 'street' and 'hip', but deep down I know I'm closer to the Cat Lady from the Simpsons or Vicky Pollard (my nickname in the office during these periods is 'Spare Change?')

Why do I embrace this seemingly slovenly look? Because I am a woman of two halves, of diverging principal, of competing agendas. Basically I'm an either/ or kinda gal. I'm either in powerhouse, full-frontal fashion mode: replete with my dangerously architectural Finsk wedges, my Marcus Lupfer printed t-shirts, my leather hotpants, my Moshino belt – (no place for practicality in this fashion offensive,) - or I'm lounging around in my striped trackies, flouro t-shirts and men's baseball caps. My heels lift me up (hnar hnar) my hoodies keep me grounded. Sometimes I just need a break from it all. To step away from the maddening crown and the hustle and bustle of the fashion industry… the only way for me to check out is by wearing my joggers. And at the end of the day, if Alexander Wang, Ashish and Stella McCartney all got on board, the trackie look can’t be too much of a bad thing?

Ashish

Alexander Wang

So you know what? I'm going to completely retract my style resolution - or dissolution if you will. I'm quite happy with this Jekyll and Hyde power struggle. What I would like to remedy however, is an increasing budget to fund these two projects and perhaps therein lies my resolution: commit to my mild scratch-card persuasion full-time.

My Personal Style Resolutions #8: Things I Fell In Love With Today

2011-01-07T09:00:00.003Z

LolaDee is a crafty blogger and broadcasting student, with a love of vintage, photographs, personal style and pretty things who blogs about the things she falls in love with every day.

As I write this I'm drowning in a sea of shoes, dresses and a ridiculous amount of tights, in an attempt to de-clutter my wardrobe in time for the new year. I'm one of those freaks who lives by making lists, so this time of year is definitely my comfort-zone. Here are my personal style resolutions (these come sub-categorised under 'NY Resolutions: The Beautify-Me Part' in my resolutions list - because yes, my lists do have sub-categories... I did mention I'm a freak).

1. Dust off the sewing machine...
...that I bought this year with high hopes and subsequently never used, find some cute fabric and make, make, make! I've always wanted to make my own clothes and the new year seems like the perfect excuse. With my slightly (or, very) empty pockets and more time on my hands to create my own designs, I will be having fun drawing inspiration from high-street trends fused with vintage classics. Or at least that's the plan... I'm sure I will blog about the successes, but more often than that (probably) the many disasters.

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2. Charity shops
Once again, taking inspiration from my weightless pockets, I will be regularly venturing into Cork's fine selection of charity shops, to find homeless - lufflies at cheap prices and also so I can stand on the moral high-ground for a few minutes in the knowledge that my well-spent money will in fact make a difference to someone somewhere.

3. Vintage
When I'm not making my own clothes or scoring bargains in charity shops, I hope to find some timeless treasures in some of Cork's vintage shops or online. I see good vintage as a worthy investment because if its lasted this long already, it will probably serve me well also. That and the fact that its unique and more often than not, completely adorable.

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4. Wardrobe Remix
Finally, I want to make better and more versatile use of the clothes that I have. Lets face it, everyone's broke, so now the real fun is to be had in mixing and matching outfits based on what we already have and how we can accessorise to make them work for the season that's in it. If Sheena Matheiken of the Uniform Project can wear one dress every day for a year and still look amazing, then I think I can manage to make better use of my own wardrobe. Something tells me that this might call for a series of 'Wardrobe Remix' posts on the blog, which sounds like a fun challenge to me!

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Thanks to Sarah for inviting me to post my personal style resolutions Have a wonderful 2011. I hope to see you stop by my blog in the new year.

LolaDee xoxo

Blog: http://www.loladee.com/

Etsy: http://www.loladee.etsy.com/

Twitter: www.twitter.com/lola_dee

Blog Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Things-I-Fell-In-Love-With-Today/115834181764177

LolaDee Handmade Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/LolaDee-Handmade/132635796785543

Licentiate Column 06/01/11

2011-01-06T09:00:00.002Z

It’s close to midnight on the first of January. As I type this column, the first day of the New Year has drawn to a close. Shops have been shut, roast dinners have been eaten and tins of Roses and Quality Street have been hoovered of all but the most perplexing of sweets (Dark Orange Mocha Nut Crunch, anyone?). If you’re looking for Silent Night, you’ve found it here.

When this column is published, the sales will be well underway and people will understand that the first day of January is a day of silent contemplation - but only if you’re contemplating how to load that half price LCD screen TV onto the roof of your Astra, or of how many people you’re going to knock over to get to the knock-down Carvelas and Prada pumps in BTs.

It is also a time for the silent gathering of strength for negotiating crowds, the silent girding of loins in preparation for any potential punchouts over the last camel coat and silent meditation in order to instill in oneself the cunningness that makes you hide several bras in your size under a pile of coats and pray that they’re still there when you come back from the ATM.
We all know that January Sales shopping is a slog through shops filled, according to a friend of mine, with ‘stuff that we’ve frowned at for the past four months’. The appeal of mediocre clothing is amplified because it’s so cheap; we pick up something we’re not sure about and wonder if it would ‘do’ because it’s been marked down from €100 to 50 cents.

And the sad thing about all this is that we know what a bad ideas it is to buy these variously ill-fitting, unsuitable, wrong-sized clothes - but we still do it anyway. Articles materialise all over the popular press advising people on how to tackle the sales correctly. ‘Tackle’ being the operative word; one has to barrel through an oppositional scrum to get to scratchy jumpers with stretched sleeves and misshapen shoulders, a symptom of clothing carelessly tried on and discarded by all the people who came before you.

No sales are regardedly so rabidly as the ones held at the start of the year, and I have a (very) rough idea as to why.

The start of the year is one of renewal. We make resolutions to ourselves. We decide to become fitter, healthier, more motivated. We decide to take tasks upon ourselves that are fundamentally life-changing. We assess that we can change our personalities and literally become other people.

That is why the sales are so popular; we’re not buying for ourselves (which explains why we knowingly make foolish purchases), we are buying for the different version of ourselves that we will become once we complete our resolutions. Normal Sarah would never wear a leotard but Gym Bunny Sarah? She’ll take twelve!

We do this year after year knowing full well of the consequences of an overstuffed wardrobe. We do this out of hope for the future. Buying clothes is just a manifestation of that hope and a speck-like microcosm of New Years celebrations as a whole. Normal Sarah thinks that I should be sceptical. Future Sarah says that maybe, just maybe, all those leotards will come in handy.

My Personal Style Resolutions #7: My Third Cousin

2011-01-05T19:00:00.003Z

My Third Cousin is a dialogue between distant family members sharing their style snippets and views on 'fashion, art music and whatever takes their fancy'. One a vintage vixen, the other an avowed Wangette: both are well versed in the art of the outfit post. Sarah Commane takes us through their personal style resolutions.

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2011 will herald a new style era for My Third Cousin; she has vowed to give vintage a chance. This, my friends, is something I have been annoying her about for a while and despite her 'but its old' retort, she has finally given in. Yes, I am dragging her to the nearest 'old clothes shop' (her words not mine). My Third Cousin will be converted to my mantra of 'vintage dress, nice tights, modern shoes. I’m dressed'. This little formula has saved me too many times to count.

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However, where there is give there is take. My Third Cousin is taking my money. She has convinced me to buy at least one good pair of shoes now I’m not too sure what she means by this but I’m guessing she isn’t suggesting a trip to Clarks. I love Jeffrey Campbell shoes and this might be the direction I take this resolution in. Well, hopefully.

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Also I have made myself promise to sort out my Wardrobe - eeekkk. I’m pretty sure this will involve being buried under some much neglected clothing from the gothic years of my life.

The final style resolution to be undertaken is to do with blogging and to improve, grow and have fun with our blog. Heres to a stylish 2011.

http://mythirdcousin.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/MyThirdCousin

My Personal Style Resolutions #6: Think What You Like

2011-01-05T12:39:00.002Z

Who’s yer woman?

My blog is Think What You Like, and my name is Aisling. I’m a freelance journalist, Beyonce

obsessive and garlic enthusiast. I write the Irish Independent Weekend Magazine beauty column,

and I do a few bits for the Evening Echo in Cork. I’m most likely to be found tapping away at my

laptop, rustling around in a fridge or in bed, my favourite place in the world. Prepare for a no-holds-

barred look inside my warped mind/wardrobe.

I’m not going to lie to you. Most of the time, I feel like I live on the island that fashion forgot. If you asked my friends about my fashion sense, they’d laugh so hard they’d slip into a coma.

I never claim to know anything about fashion, and I certainly don’t claim to dress well. I go for whatever is safe, whatever suits my figure and whatever happens to fit me well.

I’m eternally jealous of those girls that can put outfits together in the dark and wind up looking like Olivia Palermo’s more stylish sister. But what makes me feel less of a fashion-failure is the knowledge that there are probably more girls like me than girls like Olivia.

In 2011, I’d be lying if I said I was going to go in all guns blazing and start buying vintage, styling myself on obscure models and wearing stilettos to Dunnes. Here’s what I’m actually gonna try.

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Resolution One: Drop two dress-sizes

When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a size 12, 5’9’’ average looking girl. I see a fat mess. And I assure you, I don’t have body dysmorphia. I’m just honest with myself.

A few years ago, I was a size 8 and could pretty much work anything. But then belly got me. And huge breasts tracked me down. Oh, and double chin took a shine to my face and stuck around.

I find myself turning down any clothes that are tight on my tummy, anything with a high neck and anything that gives me the dreaded muffin top. I do this so as not to cause widespread offence to people, but it leaves me with few fashion options.

So in 2011, I want to lose weight, which I know will give me more options. I won’t have to worry about covering my belly. I won’t have to worry about looking like one giant boob. I won’t have to opt for tracksuits 6 days a week. It’ll be great.

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Resolution Two: Go shopping more often, and spend less

But Aisling, that’s a big whopping paradox?! Bear with me, reader.

I tend to wait until there’s an occasion, then rush out and buy a last minute outfit. Big mistake. I make hasty decisions, I don’t consider value, quality or wearability and I end up choosing things I’ll wear once and never again. Not to mention I spend ridiculous money in the process, which I cannot afford as a penniless writer.

Panicked shopping sprees don’t work, I reckon. Unless Rachel Zoe is accompanying you, it’s likely you’ll get lost in the sartorial abyss and buy things you wouldn’t let your dog wear. Building my wardrobe piece by piece in a calm, controlled manner has always been an aim of mine, and 2011 is the year it’s gonna happen.

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Resolution Three: Be adventurous, but not someone else

You’d be forgiven for thinking my wardrobe belonged to an Amish person. I play it ridiculously safe, choosing items that can fulfil multiple functions, and winding up with plain EVERYTHING. No patterns, no embellishment, no wild colours, all muted tones and simple lines.

I have a morbid fear of accessories. I wear variations of the same outfit pretty much every day. ALL my ‘going-out’ outfits are black. I’m in a rut, and I need to start taking chances or I’ll be stuck in it for the rest of my days.

I need desperately to stop being so plain. If I had an amazing figure, being plain wouldn’t be so bad, because my body would make up for it. Same with my face – if I was stunningly beautiful, I could distract people with my gaze and they wouldn’t notice what I had on. In 2011, I’m going to start buying things that I’d usually shy away from, and try to express a bit more of my personality through my clothes.

I feel like a vibrant, colourful person trapped in the body of a capuchin monk. Change is needed. So, if you’re a stylist, personal trainer or unreasonably generous multi-millionaire and would like to help a misguided, would-be fashionista get her shit together, do get in touch.

FB Fanpage: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Think-What-You-Like/158573477502976

Twitter: http://twitter.com/aislingmkeenan

Blog: http://thinkwhatyoulike.wordpress.com/

My Personal Style Resolutions #5: Blaubushka

2011-01-04T19:06:00.001Z

Blau von T from Blaubushka here; the lovechild of a wolf and a unicorn. Blaubushka is the fashion blog for the modern mistress of a world of feminine whimsy and all things whiskey. While Sarah is off an adventure I'll share with you a rant on my new love of the old.

Keep Calm and Embrace Thrift.

Having just invested in my first SLR I find myself low on cash, but almost in an enlightening way; departed is any pressure to buy this seasons 'must haves' and arrived in its place is the challenge to create new looks from my existing collection with minor additions from thrift and vintage stores.

Delving into the back of my closet it feels like I'm meeting old friends I haven't seen for years; Hello leather jacket, metallic pleat skirt and lemon tea dress, lets catch up! I wont deny my fondness for the high street but with its popularity has come an almost uniform attire each season; everyone looking the same and possessing a Venn diagram of overlapping staples. My revolt has begun. I want to experiment with what I have and not get caught up in the 'must have...must buy' hype of high street.

Kate Moss combing the markets

I'll admit to being mostly inspired by the Kate Moss Style Book by Angela Buttolph which explores the formative years of Moss' style and the time spent in Portobello market. One point it raised is the way that vintage and thrift stores can have clothes just thrown together; the juxtaposition of patterns, colours and textures seeping into your subconscious and broadening your ideas of what goes together. That's my ultimate aim; to attain the confidence and vision to think outside traditional views and high street trends and just embrace and enjoy clothes for what they are.

Blau x

Image via We Heart It

My Personal Style Resolutions #4: Vagabond Language

2011-01-04T11:30:00.002Z

Vagabond Language is a lifestyle blog, chronicling the life and style of a twenty-two year old Irish girl living and studying in Glasgow. Zoe likes to read, she wishes she was the heroine of a Nancy Mitford novel. The blog was started in the Spring of 2010, in the hopes of meeting kindred spirits.

When Sarah approached me to do this post it came at the right time, as I was already considering my personal style resolutions for 2011, that is, if my clothes still fit me after the gluttony of the festive season!

This year I made a concentrated effort to be more considerate of what I buy – what its made of, where it comes from, quality, style, etc. I refuse to pay too much for an ‘on trend’ acrylic sweater from Topshop when I could buy a vintage 100% wool jumper on etsy for the same price or less.

I think with all the glossy magazines out there, pushing the latest catwalk to high street trends on you, the pleasure of shopping and dressing yourself has diminished. Our parents looked good and they had less disposable income (as my own like to remind me, anyone else?). This year I volunteered in an Oxfam shop in my town (Oxfam Sligo!) and I really embraced the charity shop culture. Previously, I used to do a monthly charity shop thrawl with one of my friends in Dublin. However, its in the small towns that the bargains and gems are to be found. There’s nothing more thrilling than finding the perfect blouse or blazer in a charity shop after a long search.

Many trips to charity shops may present nothing, but that’s missing the whole point of the experience. Consider for a moment all the ridiculous things you’ve come across in past thrawls, that bonkers artifical flower arangement that actually turned out to be a hat or the size 18 green viscose jumpsuit, they gave you a giggle and I bet you tried them on too! Not to mention that charity shops are nowhere near as crowded as high street stores and you're less likely to bump into someone you know, trying on the same dress as you, eek! This month I think I may have found the perfect pair of tweedy pants that I’ve been keeping an eye out for all year. For £2 in my local Shelter. They’re Italian made and fully lined, I can't wait to find the perfect cream shirt to go with them next!

My main resolution this year is to be more frugal. To forsake the temptation of the high street and its disposable trends.

My style icons are timeless, many of them fashion muses.

- The teddy girl, a working class revolution. A brooch or a ribbon; simple touches, carefully placed, add a degree of playful femininity to an outfit, they transcend the everyday and become dandyfied.

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- Diane Keaton is an obvious one, but I just love her masculine aesthetic, best demonstrated in Annie Hall, where she was permitted to wear her own wardrobe, rather than be ‘styled’ for the character. She is the ultimate girl next door; her teeth aren’t perfect, she forsakes make-up, she has flyaway hair and her clothes look slightly worn, in the best way. It means she’s lived in them!

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- That being said, I find Woody Allen a style inspiration too. Jam jar glasses, check shirts and courdroy blazers/trousers, yes please! Comfortable but still retaining an aura of intellectualism.

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- Next is Shelley Duvall in her 1970s hey-day. An unconventional beauty and dresser, embracing bold colours, patterns and textures with giddy glee. I want to have such a refreshing attitude to clothing, dressing for fun! I love her eye lashes, very mod.

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- Finally… The British Bardot?… Julie Christie. She’s everything I want to be, but am generally too sloppy/lacking in grace/sexual allure ever to attain. I envy her svelte figure, her smile, her hair and make-up, such a sixties sex kitten, full of bounce, health and vitality! This is a girl you want to hit the tiles with in your local discothèque and she probably wouldn’t break a sweat! Men want her, women want to be her. I want her to do my hair. Ms. Christie has lost none of her elegance or beauty decades later.

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I can’t end this without mentioning a fictional character, books and films are where I find most of my inspiration.

- Cassandra Mortmain, heroine of Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle. Living in a decaying English castle, Cassandra can only dream of silk gowns while her eccentric family life constantly interrupts her daydreams. Cassandra finds beauty in the little things, despite her straitened circumstances. Wearing a simple dress, a cloche hat, some cardigans, oxfords and her journal, Cassandra is not deterred from embracing her romantic and imaginative spirit.

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Other mentions – Faye Dunaway, Mia Farrow, Sissy Spacek, Katharine Hepburn, Molly Ringwald in all of John Hughes films

I've only recently discovered the Argentinian model Tati Cotliar and her haphazard tomboy aesthetic. It's fun and fancy free and I love it! Looking at the shots here, the individual items all seem lovingly acquired over a period of time, a favourite pair of shoes, tights from the high street, blouses and waistcoats discovered in second hand stores from all over the world, all combining in a colourful encore.

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Read more from Vagabond Language at the blog or on twitter!

My Personal Style Resolutions #3: S-oh S-ew!

2011-01-03T18:33:00.002Z

Jo from S-oh S-ew!, a streetstyle and fashion blog, tells us all about her New Years Resolution. Jo is a music student and her blog has been shortlisted by British Vogue in their Fashion Photography Blog Competition. She's got a fantastic eye for outfits, so it's only fitting that she pays tribute to a true fashion visionary and sartorial aesthete.

New Year's always brings an onslaught of (welcome and unwelcome) emotions and reflections. Resolutions are made on the strength of all the improvements we wish to make in our lives and some of us re-evaluate what's important for us to prioritise in the year to come. While best laid plans and intentions will, inevitably, fly out of the January window for most of us, I have decided to embrace a sartorial challenge in the spirit of all things 2011.

This year, I am going to try and push the boundaries in terms of what I wear and try to be a little more adventurous in my attire. For me, that may mean as little as donning a hat, wearing that purple lipstick or having the courage to get dressed up for a party when I know most people will be in sweats. I’ve used the excuse for far too long that in my hometown it'd just look funny to wear the things I admire, but New Year new confidence I say!

I'm currently reading Blow by Blow, a biography of Isabella Blow (the British fashion editor, pioneer and icon) and her unashamed dedication to outlandish outfits is a great example of how to wear what you like wherever you are...Her spirit and life were from another time; she brought a vision and attitude to American Vogue that was so removed from everything they embraced at the time and ultimately this made her loved and hated by those around her. She was unapologetically herself and that is surely resolution worth holding on to this year. Clothing is , if we choose it , a reflection of who we are and , I believe, the sooner we are brave enough to display it on the outside the sooner we realise our true potential inside too.. Here are some of my favourite photographs of Isabella which I will be sticking to my bedroom wall as a visual source of fortitude. Here’s to style and courage for the New Year!

Photo: Steve Meisel

Isabella's wedding to Detmar Blow. Photo: Cheltenham Echo

Blow wearing a Philip Treacy hat

Photo: Steve Meisel

Jo's Blog http://s-oh-s-ew.blogspot.com/

My Personal Style Resolutions #2: A Chick Named Hermia

2011-01-03T12:00:00.000Z

Hello Folks, this is Hermia here from A Chick Named Hermia. I'm so flattered to have been asked to contribute to The Licentiate while the lovely Sarah is away and it's lovely to have the chance to meet you all. On my own slice of the interweb, I usually just drone on about myself and my life, while dotting the prose with a smattering of photography and fashion....and I don't see why I should do anything different here! :) Oh and if you want to follow me, you can find me on Facebook and also on Twitter.

I'm not usually one for New Year's Resolutions, mainly because I don't believe in making promises I can't keep.

Photo via Funambula

You see, I'm actually incredibly stubborn; so stubborn, in fact, that I will rebel against myself. For example, one year I decided I would give up biting my nails, and by the second week in January, half of my fingernails were bloody. Another time, I decided to dedicate myself to a healthy eating resolution and by the start of February, I'd gained half a stone.

Last year, I started the Giving My Life Some Purpose Project, which consisted of ticking items off a list of 85 things my readers thought I should do before I die. Although I couldn't keep up with recording my efforts, I did manage to get more than halfway through the list by the end of the year, and while I was proud of myself for doing that much, it really was too big a challenge for someone who has little-to-no willpower and a definite lazy streak.

Photo via Kisses and Cross Stitches

So this year I'm going to tie myself down to three to four attainable goals.

The one you'll probably be most interested in is my decision to start shopping in charity shops. I'm a little OCDish when it comes to dirt, especially other people's dirt, and so used clothes have always been a no-go area, to the point that I can't even borrow clothes from other people! Obviously, that has meant I miss out on a lot of bargains and some really pretty vintage pieces, which is made blindingly obvious when one is friends with fantabulous thrift-store-raiders such as Whisty. So hopefully by December 2011 I'll have some vintage additions to my wardrobe and a slightly fuller back account.

Photo via Bleubird Vintage

Hermia
oxox