The sock story.

image via Kinfolk

My palms still smell of the expensive paper that they print Kinfolk on. As I'm heading towards the end of the imperfect issue 13, one column made me think more than the previous ones. I have to say that I was rather surprised that this particular column was not grilling the matters of emotional choices, the secret to perfect fill pastry or a controversial fine art comment but... socks. Yes, the dent tube-like piece of cotton that we (tend to) wear on our feet.

They day I discovered that the simple solution to avoid chasing missing socks would be to make all of them black or white, I felt like the smartest person on this planet. I thought I tricked a magician or caught a policeman speeding. The satisfaction was unreal. This worked for a long time for me actually. I still bought only the two colours of socks, popping into H&M on a regular basis to replace the ones that decided to go off-colour by means of rubbing onto the inside of leather shoes or staying on my feet in rather messy places and cleaning other people's floors. I was sure I've found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Until one Christmas that is.

Just in case you ever wondered, I'm female. Yes, I can join into a conversation about football, yet I still do not scratch my crotch in most inappropriate office situations. That is exactly why I was shocked, to say the least, when I unwrapped one of the little boxes screaming my name from under the Tree. Inside I found nothing but socks. Isn't it just men that should get socks for Christmases/birthdays/father's days? Clearly, I was considered to be a person that lacks sock in her life. I can sort of appreciate that. But what stroke me most was the form the came in. They were... colourful!

The person who was pretending to be Father Christmas knew me very well at the time. I am pretty sure that we met soon after my invention of monochrome sock drawer. Why would they choose to ignore it? Why would they choose to make me come out of my comfort zone? And, most importantly, why would they expose me to the potential drama of losing one of the two of a kind? Socks, as Kinfolk's John Stanley points out, are like marriages nowadays. 'Frequently ending in divorce'. Dear secret Santa. I've been a good girl this year that has been through enough drama as it is. Please do not add to it. Us, introverts, do everything to make our lives less complicated. Do not bring socks into it.

The art of getting excited.

Is it just me or are we all looking forward to autumn now? No, I haven't been on proper summery holiday yet (brace yourself Barcelona). Yes, I do have a slight tan which i regularly top up sitting in my back garden/running/playing tennis (you can tell what I've been up to by the shape of 'the white bits'). No, I haven't had enough cherries, strawberries and watermelon yet. I normally tend to eat so much of them it only makes sense that they are not available during the winter time. Yes, I have already started thinking about what I'm going to wear this A/W season.

British Vogue revealed today that Victoria Beckham (my all time guru) is being fettered on the cover of the August issue. Wow. How brilliant! I mean, isn't she just what fashion is about? As much as I look forward to seeing my always happy postman (the man wears shorts 365 days a year) so that I can spend hours feeding my eyes with shots of Victoria, I am also counting down the minutes to flick through... the adverts.

Say what you like, but I love the art of advertising fashion. When the new season comes along I get as excited about the content of the magazine itself as I do about the art of revealing whether it will be socially acceptable to wear black leather with tan leather. Whether Anja Rubik will rock khaki green jumpers. Whether Joan Small will pull of winter version of colour blocking. Whether Cara Delavigne will yet again take us to the magic world of Mulberry handbags.

One may say that getting excited is childish. Nothing like it. Being able to say that you're passionate about something, be it football, fashion or porcelain figurines, is not as common as we think. Let's all stand up and say to ourselves: do it with passion or don't do it at all! Let's all get excited. I don't know how Victoria could stay quiet about her next Vogue cover for so long...

images stolen form the Internet

The day I stopped following Rihanna on Instagram

photo via Vogue Brasil

Right. Correct me if i'm wrong. Are we all a bit fed up with Rihanna? I have recently stopped following her on Instagram. It was too much to handle! But let's rewind to the beginning of our relationship.

I mean, there are millions of followers. 12 millions to be exact. I'm sure to Rihanna our relationship was not anything special. It all started with me saying that men must be crazy to consider her beautiful. Then I repeatedly made remarks on her lack of talent. I despised her songs until recently. Still not a great fan of her music but I get slightly emotional when the piano kicks in at the beginning of 'Stay' (no Jared Leto, you didn't manage to ruin it for me completely but you were close!). 

She started appearing well dressed in magazines and on gossip websites. Changed her style completely and more to my personal liking. Not that she cares about my personal liking but she was a pleasure to look at with a fit body and great fashion coving it. 

As a Radio 1 breakfast show listener I could not help but be influenced by Nick Grimshaw's Riri obsession. He commented on her fabulous Insta-life on a daily basis. We live in a world where we love stalking people and with social media it couldn't be easier as well as guilt-free. So I started stalking Rihanna. Just casually. Not obsessively. And yes, I was mesmerised by the colourful cocktails and bikini choices. I even used to say that if I had a body like Riri, I would wear nothing but bikinis as well. My employer wouldn't be impressed. Clearly. 

Our happily ever after lasted for a couple of months. I was disgusted by the 'Pour it up' video but treated it as a minor set back and carried on admiring those beautifully toned thighs. And then it hit me. I know Rihanna's boobs better than my own. And I do spend a lot of time in front of the mirror desperately looking for progress in my leaning down process. That was the painful moment when I clicked 'unfollow' and that was my very own tiny manifestation. I'm not a prude. My neighbours can confirm as they normally find me getting changed with the blinds open and sunbathing topless in my garden (on my front, I'm not a flasher). But dear Rihanna, keep your private bits for your private friends. We're not them. We are just a bunch of saddos California wishing they lived like you. How about you go back to singing? In the end of the day, you're not too bad at it! 

London Coffee Festival 2014

A great place to spend a Saturday afternoon if you're around next year. I've enjoyed about a hundred different espressos, pieces of chocolate, cake and even a tiny little cute ice cream cone. If you're a coffee lover like myself you should put that on your to-do list: go to London coffee festival 2015.

For more photos check out my Instagram profile @iamshoeshopping

Phoebe Philo at Vogue Festival.

photo via the Internet

Last Saturday I kicked off my Vogue Festival experience by listening to the talk with Phoebe Philo. Alexandra Shulman tried to squeeze her like a lemon asking about her inspiration, stubbornness, work ethic and keeping the work-home balance right. I have to say that I have admired her design for ages (manifesting it mostly by wearing Zara clothes) but as she keeps her life private, I had no clue 'what she was really like'. She came across as an extremely strong person. Nevertheless, I got the impression that she is slightly tired...

Phoebe stressed that she appreciates the fact that she is able to run a French fashion house from London and enjoys wandering around the city unrecognised (really? don't you know who she is, people?). She is pretty down-to-earth with her comments like 'I used to travel but now I have children'. As petite as her physique is, she appeared on the stage in a rather strong manner wearing an oversized silky top and a pair of outstanding flats. Asked about the Celine DNA she said that it was not an iconic brand and she found it quite liberating. The ability to do whatever she wants enabled her to produce some fantastic designs that get copied on the high street (thank you, Zara, for this blessing as Celine is rather pricy). Funnily enough, when asked about the brand copying her she quoted Coco Chanel by saying 'Imitation is the highest form of flattery'. Even though she tried to come across that she is ok with it, I got the feeling that she was not being honest... Maybe it was just me though. Or was it?

'I find mediocracy hard'. As a passionate person she cares about what she does and questions the point of doing so if one does not care. Do it with passion or don't do it at all, right? I got a bit confused when she confessed that after a show she cannot look at clothes for a month. Can one get fed up with their passion? Is passion slightly interrupted when it becomes 'a job'? But is being the creative head of Celine 'a job'?

Phoebe also portrays a strong feminist side to her ideas. 'Within fashion I don't thing gender is relevant. It's not easier for men than women'. Her pieces are simple and form an integral image. They look great together in any combination. The conversation started floating towards the body image in the fashion industry and that was another point where the audience could have got confused... Philo stressed that women nowadays get a message that they are not good enough. By her designs she wants ladies to feel strong and powerful. Ladies of any shape and size. Well, as much as she said that everybody can be seductive, sexy and powerful, I do not think that she makes clothes in sizes to fit all shapes... It really makes me wonder when designers produce statements against the 'domination of skinny' and yet do not transfer this idea to the racks. 

As a listener I asked myself thousands of questions during this short interview. It is a different experience in comparison to just reading it from the glossy Vogue pages. Putting a person to the words was most enlightening. Even though I could not help but sense that Phoebe is simply tired, I still admire her for being able to say that she simply won't do things she doesn't like. Nowadays we force ourselves to follow through with ideas/projects even though we do not feel comfortable about it. Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for assertiveness. It still exists. Do not let it die. And thank you Phoebe for sending this message to the universe. For that I forgive you the lack of enthusiasm between 2:30 and 3:30 on Saturday, 29th of March 2014.