Or rather, an ode to the elegant asymmetry. I am lacking a legitimate reason to wear it just yet - perhaps on valentine's day (with a LBD), or at the next orchestral performance (with a sheer black maxi skirt).
Bare silhouettes of trees in January // A cheeky quote from the School of Life // The humble, loyal loafers // Precious winter light, that grayish hue in the crispy cold air // Winter uniform consists of jumper, scarf, cigarette pants and Joseph
In just less than one year, I have come to my 100th post - thank you for staying in tune, dear readers!
If you have a moment, please drop a line in the comments because I never really know who my readers are (you all prefer to stay a bit anonymous? ;)
For February and March I am determined to live the minimalist way of life - no more frivolous purchases or silly, impulsive spendings - instead, I will be busy budgeting, shopping inside own wardrobe and de-cluttering (both in the realm of possessions and thoughts) - because I am saving up for my spring trip to New York!
The Table (Southwark) for brunch - excellent eggs benedict and buttermilk pancake // Sunflower Seeds by Ai Weiwei revisited - the video documenting the process of how they produced 100 million procelain seeds in a small town in China is illuminating // Oh Rothko // Surrealism is always a good idea // Miró in April at Tate (squealing in excitement!)
London: a feast to the mouth and to the eye (when you know where to go!)
I collect your pictures, especially the really rare ones of you - when you are behind a set, sipping your tea, being yourself only for yourself but not for the public eye. You radiate perpetual beauty and elegance through your bright eyes and kind deeds. But it is interesting to see - with more images of you circulating, the femme mystique of you grows.
This is one of my favourite quotes of yours,
I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles.
Thank you Shuen-Yi for the restored edition of Sylvia Plath's Ariel - reading the collection in its original order and manuscript sheds light on Plath's creative process, techniques and more powerfully, how she painfully battled with the inner demon and transcended it all.
My all time favourite is the Morning Song, written when her second son Nicholas was just born.
Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.
Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.
I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.
All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.
One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
*Inspired by Christine and thought it would be a fun project to embark on - I will go on to list one thing that makes me really happy starting from today, every day.
Decided to pop by the National Portrait Gallery and looked at the exhibition 'An Englishman in New York' by Jason Bell. The portraits are good themselves but the stories behind the English expats are infinitely more interesting. Here is one of my favourite.
Simon Doonan, creative director, Barneys
"There’s a tremendous sense of freedom living in Manhattan. I remember when we were opening a small Barney’s outpost in Soho; in a cavalier way I told everyone that I would get a Queen Elizabeth II lookalike to come and cut the ribbon. We didn’t have a huge budget and I couldn’t find one so I decided to do it myself. I dressed up with butt pads, crown, sash, gloves, purse and jewels. I braced myself for the catcalls and the insults, and as I exited the lift into the lobby of my building the doorman said, “Mr Doonan, do you want your mail now or when you come back?” I often think what would I be doing if I’d stayed in England? I’m sure I’d still be on the scarf counter at John Lewis where I started. I failed the eleven plus in England and I always thought of myself as really stupid. Nobody knows that here, so I’ve written four books and a column for the New York Observer."
Stella McCartney's beautiful country estate - an Eden reborn.
“I grew up with gardens, but not like these,” remembers Stella, whose family also has a farm in bucolic Sussex. “You can’t plant a pea in Scotland!” she says, laughing. “In Sussex we had a beautiful garden—but it was very different. Ours is a quite traditional English garden. People don’t build gardens like this anymore,” she adds, “and I can see why! They are ridiculously expensive. It’s insane. It’s literally like building a house. But a garden becomes another room, an escape. Being out in a beautiful garden is nicer than sitting in a beautiful room, in my opinion. They bring you so much joy. We recharge our batteries in that environment. You have to feel extremely privileged to have a garden—I don’t take it for granted.