Street Style Aesthetic - blogged by a blogger!

Popping out to lunch last Friday, I bumped into Wayne Tippetts - photographer and blogger of London looks and the sharpest styles. His blog is testament to our city's sartorial flair and individuality (despite the odd chancer in a gold coat slipping through the net).

Obviously tried to remain cool and unfazed, but was secretly thrilled to be included. Props to Wayne, and to Street Style Aesthetic.

http://www.streetstyleaesthetic.com/

Trick or Treat??

I have only recently come to embrace the holiday that is Halloween. I think this is largely due to the fact that I grew up in Essex, where trick or treaters wore hoodies and a scowl and the trick was a smack in the mouth.

Not entirely sure how my new home town would compare, I eschewed Brixton for a party in Islington, where there were only treats to be had, and a varied array of costumes which resulted in some rather odd couplings...

Nick Griffin and The Disco Zombie

A ghoulish Jester and Little Red Riding Hood

Man with Monocle and a Dead Sea Sailor

Mrs Santa and an Arachnid

A Mime and the Devil wears Prada... slightly concerning when someone dresses up as (to all intents and purposes) you for Halloween...

A right pair of Minnies.

Halloween Fun for all the Family

Now I wouldn't normally publicise the cover of a magazine that didn't belong to us... but this is a triumph.

Why I don't work in finance

I spent this afternoon taste testing cupcakes for a party. I know. I could hardly believe it myself. It went a little bit like this:

Walking back into the office after lunch...

Boss: Sarah! Thank GOD you're back.

Me: (somewhat startled) What's happened?

Boss: (rustling in boxes) Boil the kettle and get a knife.

Like the performing monkey my state education trained me to be, I followed my instructions without question.

Boss: Now cut up these cupcakes while I make tea. We can't taste test cupcakes without tea.

Bliss. We (thoroughly and discerningly) made our way through carrot, oreo, rocky road, chocolate and peanut butter. There was much swilling of tea and thoughtful squinting and chin rubbing. Carrot came out on top as being the most flavoursome, and crucially the one you could eat the most of before feeling sick (this is where peanut butter let us down).

Today was the definition of a good day. I love my job.

The Wonders of Wigan

Wigan. The home of Vernon Kay and Pataks Curry. And most importantly, the home of Janine Stott, my dear friend. I have been avoiding visiting Janine in her own habitat for a good five years now (being a self confessed London snob who has never been north of Oxford, thank you very much) - but what a mistake that was. The North is full of unimaginable delights, and I was treated to a full tour - Wigan, Bolton, Manchester and Blackpool. The gems in the northern crown, if you will.

Being the tourist and happy snapper that I am, I captured my Northern Adventure in photographic form.

Because in Wigan, there is always a sofa that needs moving, and I felt this was an opportunity not to be missed. It was just like we were in Friends! Except we were in Wigan, not New York, and we were sat on top of a volvo in a carpark... but other than that it was uncanny.

Fish and chips in Blackpool - minutes later I was accosted by a man in a short sleeved t-shirt who laughed at me for wearing a hat and scarf. At night. In late October. On a pier. I have learnt that layers are not de rigeur in Blackpool.

Incidentally, neither is taking a photo of someone else's chips and gravy. Yes. Chips with gravy. A northern delicacy which takes the traditional potato chip, and covers it in bisto. Wonders never cease.

Tomfoolery on the pier.

Blackpool culinary delights

Tomfoolery on the waltzers - a calculated risk after culinary delights.

The bright city lights.

And last but certainly not least: the birthday girl. Wigan's crowning glory.

Love For Leibovitz

Vogue Editors Alexandra Kotur and Hamish Bowles celebrated the publication of The World in Vogue: Peoples, Parties, Places last night in New York. The following images are all taken from the book, and were shot by Annie Leibovitz.

Michelle Obama in 2007

Kate Moss, Paris, 1999

Dancer and choreographer Mikhail Baryshnikov diving, Oscar de la Renta, his stepdaughter Eliza Reed Bolen, Aerin Lauder and author Marina Rust poolside.

The WI - Brixton Contingent

At the grand old age of 24, it appears that I am nesting. This has manifested itself in an obsession with preserves. Having never made one before, naturally I opted for marmalade - the most difficult recipe I could find. My one stroke of genius was enlisting my mother, who supervised the sterilisation of jars, stopped me eating melted sugar that was hotter than the sun, and also read all the boring (but it turns out essential) bits in the recipe about pith and pectin and whatnot.

I have documented our journey.

The aforementioned reading of pitch and pectin.

This came after the boring bit of juicing and chopping. Much more fun with a gin and tonic, we discovered. The weird sack thing is a muslin cloth full of pith and pips - all the pectin is in there and that apparently is what makes the marmalade set, and stops it just being hot juice.

Sterilised jars - so as not to contaminate marmalade with germs and poison my nearest and dearest. That is not what the WI intended.

After two hours of fruit boiling, FINALLY it is time to add the 2kg of sugar. This was an exciting moment.
Cindy squeezing out the pectin, ready to whisk into the marmalade mixture. Definitely best to get an adult to do this bit.

Marmalade bonding.
Marmalade hijinks. Direct result of sugar consumption

This is the bit where you bring the mixture to a fast boil for 15 minutes and try not to stir it. It is by this point angry and bubbly and almost impossible not to touch. I burnt my tongue twice.

Three hours and a truckload of sugar later - time to test for set!! (that's official jam chat for is it ready yet).

Yes. That's a funnel. This is serious stuff.

The finished product! It would be fair to say I'm a little smug.

The Last Girl in London

The dull thud in the stomach, the irritation just under the skin, the tapping finger, the lip twitch. Itchy feet. The suspicion that the old adage about greener grass could possibly be true. That it might be now or never.

These seem to be the buzz words for A/W 09 - as the cold creeps in so we retreat to dreams of sunnier climes and sunnier people - whether it be a relocation, career shake up, or delayed gap year, Londoners seem to be getting a bit sick of London aroundaboutnow. Maybe it's because we're all poor? Or maybe it's because we've been working a while and, actually, we had more fun when we weren't. Maybe everyone's got SAD (seasonal affective disorder).

Everyone except me that is. I'm the odd one at the party who still loves it here. Even when it rains in July, even when Oxford circus tube station is closed due to overcrowding, even when there are Christmas decorations in John Lewis at the beginning of October. Occasionally, in darker moments, i ponder upping sticks to Borneo to rehabilitate orangutans - but this is nearly always shortlived. Especially once I remember that they bite and that there's no topshop. London is the safe, warm and woolly jumper I always go back to. Even if it's threadbare and not always a perfect fit. It's home and it's mine.

Fancy some street art?

Yes, Why not? Was my response. Running all through October, collaborators Mutate Britain are bringing art out of the gallery and into the city - where hopefully more people will see it and where the work can evolve and become a social event as well as an exhibit. Nice idea huh? Located next to Portobello road in Ladbroke grove, it's a 12,000 square foot space comprising of sculpture, installation, grafitti art and the odd bit of good old fashioned painting. Importantly, the cheap punch goes a long way towards deciphering between good art and bad art, or whether it's art at all, or infact just a fire escape. Worth the £1 entry fee for sure.

'Loud, disorientating and absurd'. Lovely.

Saturday night rolled round, and so naturally i decided to take an unsuspecting accomplice to see some very experimental and impenetrable theatre - luckily for us, Shunt had managed to once again pull it out of the bag with their new piece Money. Loosely based on Emile Zola's L'argent, Shunt delve into and expand on the story which is fast becoming old as time; the collapse of the banking system and the human condition of unhinged greed and mindless self gratification. Thankfully, this doesn't result in a sore head as they dispense with most of the narrative and instead lead the audience into the pictured four storey scafolded creation, where the action takes place around, above and below the audience in varying states of darkness.

It's funny and dark and exciting and surprising - everything that theatre should be really. The audience is very much part of the performance, implicated from the outset and so complicit in the inevitable crash. Money is thought provoking without being preachy - and most importantly it's fun and at times quite thrilling. A real theatrical experience. Ball fight and champagne added bonuses, if you needed more convincing.

Brand New GQ!

'LOOK SHARP; LIVE SMART'. Conde Nast launch GQ China, now the 17th edition worldwide which also marks the 30-year Anniversary since GQ was first published in America.

Vogue India - Two Years On

The launch in October 2007 established India as a fashion capital of the world, and Vogue captures the contrasts indiginous to India, embracing traditional crafstmanship and heritage in addition to showcasing new talent and catering to the burgeoning luxury fashion community.

Vogue India is running firm with its international counterparts, launching a national competition for young writers, and holding India's first luxury retail extravaganza - 'Fashion's Night Out'.

The Anniversary issue celebrates the 'Power of Two' -featuring famous pairings who are influencing and directing the cultural tide: from actress Penelope Cruz and director Pedro Almodovar and film maker Deepa Mehta and writer Salmon Rushie, to artist Damien Hirst and gallerist Charles Saatchi. The theme continues with bestselling author Deepak Chopra exploring the balance between materialism and spiritualism, while Karl Lagerfeld waxes lyrical on fashion's intrinsic duality.

Editor Priya Tanna acknowledges the difference a year can make - 'we struggled through and gradually came to terms with a worldwide recession, a nationwide drought, a crippling terror attack on Mumbai and a life threatening epidemic, we were forced to step out of our comfort zones, let go of the familiar and embrace change - we need to keep moving, doing, changing. ' I'll definitely drink to that.

Happy Birthday To You, Happy Birthday To You, Happy Birthday Dear Tatttllleeerrrr, Happy Birthday To You!!

I'll say this for the folk at Tatler - they know how to throw a Birthday bash - as big ben chimed eight so all of London's glittering elite (and me bringing up the rear plus one 70 year old gatecrasher - immense) arrived at Lancaster House for a Conde Nast night of champagne, caviar and cake. And what a cake it was! Surrounded by hundreds of mini pastries courtesy of Fortnum and Mason - highlights included the jam tart and toffee eclair. I got heavily involved.

Our 300th Anniversary cover featuring Her Madge.

Ronnie Scott's legendary house band. Love a bit of jazz. That's a lie - i don't. But they are pretty legendary.

Champagne sponsored by Louis Roederer - very lovely bubbly. Comedy costume came as standard - natch.

Fortnum and Mason pastry chef, IE. My New BFF

And finally, the lovely goody bags full of Amouage and Links of London goodies. Sigh... I wish it could be Tatler's Birthday everyday.

Travel Tatler Style!

As of today there will be 20 Tatler Taxi's whizzing around London Town for the next four weeks to celebrate 300 years of tattling mischief. Fun!

So, another typically average day at Vague House... everyone is going crazy preparing for the Tatler 300th extravaganza taking place at Lancaster House tomorrow (think De Beers, debauchery and double barrelled surnames and you're half way there)... but I didn't realise the physical preparation I would personally have to undergo...

TATLERGIRL: Here's your invitation for tomorrow, don't forget to take it with you. Now I've booked you in at St Tropez at 11.30 so you need to run.

ME: Hmm?

TATLERGIRL: (impatient) If you're going to the party you need a spray tan. And now you're LATE SO GO!!

If a TATLERGIRL is shouting at you, you don't question - you do. So off I trot to get the (literally) obligatory buff and spray - a humiliation which includes paper knickers and Forsyth style posing.

This party better be worth it.