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Tavi in Trouble and my very first piece of Sports Journalism (sort of!!)

Thankfully, a Mouse.

A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of meeting baby Matilda, the first child of my dear friends Rebecca and Gareth. Obviously she is divine, with an easy temperament, English rose complexion and a shock of red locks.

I remember reading once that babies are born into one of two categories, as either Pig or Mouse. A mouse baby is perfectly proportioned with small, delicate features. A Mouse baby will sleep contently in your arms, with only the sweetest of yawns escaping its lips.

We have all experienced the shock of peeking into a pram to discover a Pig baby. With stifled gasp and look of horror one must pretend that the Pig in question is not a bulbous pink creature, puffy and shouty and angry looking. It is advised to make pleasantries and move away quickly - before your cover is blown.

I am so very pleased to report that Matilda is most definitely and definitively a Mouse.

A bundle of Joy

Ravishing Shoes at Rupert Sanderson

A Rupert Sanderson press day is the definition of a good day. Not only do I have a legitimate excuse to leave work in the middle of the day to try on shoes, sip champagne and munch macaroons, but I also get to see my most wonderful and treasured friend Ms Alexandra Kotsias - the PR maestro behind super-shoe designer Sanderson.

The a/w collection is perfection: from red velvet to pink patent, from dogtooth boots to vertiginous gold heels - the shoes are decadent, sexy and intelligent.

The brand is expanding fast, with stores now open in Paris and Hong Kong - and Rupert is nothing if not generous. The first customer to present a receipt from the Paris store at Mayfair's Bruton Place HQ may pick a second pair free of charge. Now you really can't say fairer than that.

Dragoon

Frisco

Liquid

And God forbid he ever gets bored of shoes, there's a career in sponge making with Rupert's name on it!

The Doom Cloud

I think we might be missing the point.

I'm not sure the point is missing flights or being stranded in foreign climes. I'm absolutely sure the point isn't lost money, or lost time. I don't think the point is anything to do with air traffic control, or the surge of hits to the BBC news website.

I wonder if we are being shown who is in charge - or more specifically who is not. I wonder if we are being shown how insignificant our plans are. I wonder if it's a warning.

Paris Loves Ralph

See why at vogue.com

Barbour's Girl

See my article at vogue.com on why Barbour is cool again.

Perk of the Week

The iPad has landed.... on my desk!!

Conde Nast is in receipt of about half a dozen iPads, courtesy of our far glossier and technologically savvy American counterparts.

And what a beautiful thing it is. The sleek chic packaging that we have come to expect from Apple holds a gadget far more erudite and stylish than even the much publicised launch photographs suggested. It is handbag size - really - not too large and indisputably transportable. It is a little weighty, but a fraction of that of a laptop, and no thicker than an iPhone.

The screen is black, glassy and lustrous - with just one navigation button and no defined top or bottom. It has everything the iPhone has multiplied by a thousand - easy and light touch scrolling, incredibly sharp text and image, an intuitive and practical layout.

Downsides? The Apps aren't quite there yet - not all of them. USA Today is incredible, as is Epicurus, but others feel rushed and lack invention, especially when viewed on such an advanced and creatively freeing platform. But this is a temporary problem, and one we can look forward to being remedied quickly.

Reading books and magazines digitally has become viable through the iPad. Many will recoil at even the idea of this, but it's time to stop sensationalising digital advancements as the 'End of Print' - it's not. It won't be. The two provide different reader experiences, and can exist and work together in tandem. And this comes from a dyed in the wool book person, I promise.

Conde Nast are working on some exciting projects for the British launch at the end of May, so stay tuned, and pre-order on May 10th.

Vintage by the Sea

I made a startling discovery on my recent trip to Deal, in the form of a little shop aptly named Vintage by the Sea. The window display alone was a veritable Aladdin's cave, full of trinkets, and beautifully odd pieces of furniture, along with vintage dresses and hats and... furs.

I stepped in.

I ruffled through the furs and tried one for size. Perfect. Big and luxurious and just the right length - dress length - with delightful bell sleeves. My mother had mentioned she'd seen this particular fur in the window and had thought of me - she was right on the money as usual. It was exactly what I'd been looking for, and without the inflated London pricetag.

Purchasing said fur meant really thinking about wearing it, and what it meant. I wouldn't wear a new fur - not only because I'd have to sell at least two of my organs to afford one, but also because I don't want to be responsible for animals dying today, and I can't quite justify being part of that consumer chain. Wearing vintage fur isn't cut and dry - you're still contributing to the market by wearing and promoting it - but my minks have been dead for about 70 years now. And I am wearing something very beautiful, and making the most of it. As did the owner before me, and the owner before that.

This is a long winded way of saying I'm flawed, and I don't have all the answers, and I'll be travelling to the fiery depths of hell in a mink. An absolutely bloody gorgeous mink.

The discovery of mink, and the daddy who bought it for me.

Beside the Seaside

My parents have upped sticks from Upminster to a little seaside town called Deal, nestled prettily on the Kent coast.

For the two weeks before I was able to visit, the idea of their new life seemed foreign and surreal to me. We moved to our old Essex home when I was little more than a baby, and I only flew my beloved nest two years ago, when Vogue House called and it was time to play at being a grown-up for a while. That home was safe and wonderful and I loved it. I thought I'd be devastated when they moved - and to be fair, when the concept was first floated I probably was - but I'm not playing at being grown-up anymore. I am grown-up. I have made my own home and my own life, and I couldn't be happier that my wonderful parents are able to continue with theirs.

Easter weekend was the perfect opportunity to hop on the train for a visit - American in tow.

Deal is gorgeous - really, really gorgeous. Winding streets, historic houses, a pier and promenade, quirky coffee shops and charity shops and pubs and restaurants and a town library. Everybody has dogs, everybody is windswept. It smells of salt and sea and I fell in love with it straight away.

The whimsical nature of this live little English town captured Dan's imagination, and he snapped away for our viewing pleasure.

Couture Denim

Read my vogue.com piece on Hudson's new recycled collection

A Birthday Wish

It's Hannah's Birthday today. She would have been 24.

I was lucky enough to spend lots of Birthdays with Hannah. I remember her 18th clearly.

It was a beautifully sunny day reminiscent of this one, and we decided to spend it in Covent Garden. We had no real plan, just thought we'd hop on the tube and have one of those indulgent days where there is nothing you have to do, only what you want to.

We bought posh handcream in Crabtree and Evelyn (forever outside and tending horses, I used to joke that Hannah had the hands of an old farmer) and we were unwillingly captured by a street performer. I bought her a pair of red converse trainers - her first. She wore them until they fell apart.

We sat outside and drank Kir Royales as the sun went down. We went home soon after, both of us happy and healthy and light.

A simple day, a wonderful day.

Happy Birthday my love x

Vintage goes Digital

Oxfam launches the UK's first ever online vintage charity shop today at www.oxfam.org.uk/vintage

"The beauty of fashion is that it can be recycled and reused again and again, with a treasured item donated by one person offering endless possibilities for someone else," Sarah Farquhar, Oxfam's head of retail, said. "Our new vintage site is an opportunity for us to share some of the amazing items we have donated to our shops with an even wider audience and to raise more money for our work around the world."

Shoppers can browse one-off pieces sourced from stores all over the country, by decade or by style from the comfort of their laptop, instead of sifting through hand-me-downs in order to find that one vintage gem. Find fifties Mad Men style full circle skirts, sixites psycadelic minis and eighties power shoulder pads all at the click of a button.

DELLAL ROCKS

See my Vogue.com piece for Alice Dellal's foray into the music industry...

Brixton Blackout

Darkness descended upon Brixton last night - a real and very sudden darkness. The type of darkness you don't often see unless you're in remote countryside, or in our case, during a quite epic powercut. My quiet street was enveloped in thick blackness, save for a few candles glowing in windows, and flashes of no doubt dusty and forgotten torches.

Obviously I do not own a torch. I do however have a bit of a candle obsession, which was somewhat of a godsend. It all felt like a bit of an adventure - finding matches by the lights of our iPhones, cooking a makeshift dinner on the hob in muted candlelight. Listening to the radio. Talking. Simple. Romantic.

I am only able to take this rather whimsical viewpoint because I awoke to hot water and a functioning hairdryer.