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Free Exhibition - Kings of Leon: Ten Year Reign

At Proud, Camden, until 6th December

I’m a huge fan of legendary rock gods Kings of Leon, so I was really hoping that this wouldn’t disappoint... Friend to the band, up-and-coming photographer, Jo McCaughey charts their ten year reign and rise to fame through his band photographs. I have to admit that I was more intent on charting their shifting styles and haircuts! The prints are available to buy and any of the photos would be a perfect Christmas gift for that really hard-to-buy-for music-loving friend. Even if you don’t fancy being an exhibition groupie, definitely check out Proud Camden if you haven’t been there for a drink, or for one of their cool Sunday afternoon jazz sessions.

Tickets available at www.Proud.co.uk

Paid Exhibition - Beatles to Bowie: The 60s Exposed

At The National Portrait Gallery, until 24th January

This is probably not one to take the kids to – considering there was a row of under 10s looking bored on the gallery bench….But if you have a love of all things 60s and its icons (think Jean Shrimpton, Mick Jagger, Twiggy, Pattie Boyd, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Dusty Springfield, The Kinks…) then you’ll love this recently opened exhibition. The record covers, the magazine pages and even a few authentic Biba and Ossie Clark dresses transport you to the swinging 60s.

Tickets available at www.NPG.org.uk

Theatre - Dorian Gray

Final dates Cardiff, High Wycombe, Birmingham and Woking, until 21st November

I don't often get to see ballets or any dance related events so I jumped at the chance to see Mathew Bourne's modern take on Wilde's Classic Dorian Gray and I absolutely loved it! Bourne challenges our perceptions of the original storyline, pushing the boundaries and delving deeper than Wilde dared. A traditional ballet this is most definitely not. Set in the current day, Dorian is seen leading a life fuelled by sex and alcohol. I thought the extra touches that were used to bring it up to date for a 21st audience worked brilliantly, (for instance instead of Dorian's picture ageing as per the book, a photo is used). Often risqué, the dancing is spellbinding. (Be warned, after a couple of hours watching scantily clad dancers with perfect bodies it will make you wish you'd been to the gym that week, I certainly went the next day!)

Tickets available at www.New-Adventures.net

DVD review - The September Issue

Out now

As someone who works for a magazine I feel it's almost my duty to watch everything fictional/non-fictional related to the industry. I've seen them all, from Ugly Betty to The Devil Wears Prada. (I can't stand the former but adore the latter). So when I heard about The September Issue, I couldn't wait to see it! Finally, a real documentary about a real magazine and not just any magazine but Vogue, the world's greatest fashion bible. The film depicts the Vogue team creating their September issue from start to finish with the legendary editor Anna Wintour as the main focus. I thought it offered a genuine insight into the inner workings of a magazine and was engaging from the onset. I found the turbulent relationship between Anna Wintour and Creative Director, Grace Coddington particularly fascinating although sometimes uncomfortable to watch. Absolutely brilliant, I'd recommend this to anyone with an interest in fashion.

Available at www.Amazon.co.uk

Time Management Part One: On Frogs & Filing

Last night in the bath I tried to persuade Baby Rosie to loan me one of her toys – an extremely cute, bug-eyed frog. She was extremely reluctant (‘but I need it you see mummy’). So instead I’ve printed out the word FROG in a beautiful font and put it up on my noticeboard to inspire and help.

This is part of my ongoing quest to be incredibly efficient and squeeze more brilliant things out of every day. This book Eat that Frog is basically comprised of one whopping great, fantastic tip which I love & my team has all adopted enthusiastically.

The idea is that if you get your biggest nastiest task out of the way first (you eat the slimy frog), the rest of the day is plain sailing. If you leave it to last, it hangs over you and spoils your day. If you get it done first everything else is pleasurable by comparison.

This is, quite frankly, genius. As a juggler (and normal human being), procrastination is far too easy. There’s always something I can justify as being urgent or important but getting the slimy tasks out of the way first really helps. Once I’ve done this, I’ve a glowing sense of achievement and can bounce onto the next task feeling super-virtuous.

The frog could be anything, depending on your life situation. As a stay-at-home mum, my friend Fifi always does her chores first thing so she can enjoy the rest of the day playing without feeling guilty. Corporate chick Jo always makes her tough-negotiation calls in the morning.

NB: This only works if you’re a morning person. My lovely diplospouse is quite emphatically not one of those. This causes occasional friction as I tend to be irritatingly cheerful in the am. So he does buy into the frog theory but the amphibious snack just has to be about 11am after he’s warmed up with a few tastier tasks.

My other big time management revolution this week has been a bit of office tarting. I work so much better in a tidy office. Plus, a little bit of prettiness is creative and inspiring. So I’ve updated my filing with some elegant Orla Kiely boxes from Heals and later on I’ll be surfing The Holding Company for more ideas. That’s my reward for having ‘eaten my frog’ (a huge bit of in depth financial analysis) out of the way this morning. Delicious.

Earthly Delights

It’s autumn and as the weather strips the leaves from the trees, this food-obsessed corner of Clerkenwell has been pickling, preserving and bottling like crazy. Anything that can be has been chopped, cored, boiled up with vinegar and sugar and various spices, and we now have four different chutneys to look forward to in a few months’ time, as well as bottled fruit and jars of deep amethyst pickled cabbage which will be ready for Christmas feasting…I am not sure we can wait that long.

Every jar that comes into our flat is kept and washed, ready to be re-filled and stored. Needless to say, we are running out of space.

I have developed a bit of a hankering for a pretty jar or bottle, and could at any time be caught buying unnecessary amounts of Bombay Sapphire. That’s all I need, since we have limited space and I was harbouring a glass obsession anyway. Still, I’m not averse to the odd gin and tonic.

The BSG hauled a bag full of gargantuan yellow quinces home from the office last week, a colleague’s tree having had a bumper crop this year. They have a rather mutant-apple look about them, simultaneously bringing lemons and lightbulbs to mind. With the look of another world and another time, they’re the sort of thing you’d find gracing the table in a Flemish still life painting, alongside some grapes and a pomegranate perhaps.

After defuzzing each one, he boiled these up for a few hours (the critters take a while), ready for the second phase the following night, when he pressed them through a sieve and boiled the pulp with sugar until it transformed in colour, resembling lava (wonderful to behold, less wonderful to scrape from every kitchen surface around).

We sampled the finished product, a jewel-red and aromatic quince cheese, with some salty aged Manchego after yesterday’s cosy feast with friends, the first of the Sunday lunch series and surely one of the most wonderful things about the colder side of the year.

These small yet concerted efforts to be recession-friendly have coincided with our nightly porings over the lyrical Nigel Slater’s new book Tender; we dream of a patch of land to call our own, and to make real our dreams of self-sufficiency. Until that time, we have resolved to do our bit for Mother Earth and compost our peelings and other foody scraps. I am told that the council provides a very functional brown bin, but I can’t see that it’ll look very good in the kitchen, so I have decided to source my own (we’ll decant into the brown one come collection day…)

November November

To me, early November means a number of things...

Red wine in place of white, another birthday (the accountant blew the budget and took me to Zuma – what a treat), colder weather (I’m now really ready for my winter coat), my little mouse and her fear of fireworks, X Factor and Strictly getting interesting (ok not that they weren’t from the start but how much are we loving Danni this year..) and the lovely Spirit of Christmas.

Whilst Argos’s aggressive TV campaign isn’t exactly the thing to get me feeling festive (quite the opposite), there’s nothing like Spirit to get the SheerLuxe team geared up for gift giving.

Plus we love to see all our favourites (Hush, Jonnys Sister, Wilbur & Gussie, Me&Em, Blaguette – to name but a few), and find some new ones.

This year we discovered Dee Puddy (pictured), Alexski (simply the best ski gloves I’ve tried) and The Oak & Rope Co, and we hope to get them all on the site soon.

If you manage to make a trip to Olympia this weekend (it’s running Saturday and Sunday) and you only buy one thing, make it Godminster’s Horseradish infused Vodka (Bloody Marys will never taste so good).

Talking of Bloody Marys, come Sunday I may just need one. It’s my great girlfriend's wedding this w/e and it’s bound to be boozy.

Sunday will be spent on the sofa watching the obvious on catch up, followed by some of Wagamama's new winter menu. Their Smoked Haddock Ramen is well worth a journey out into the cold for. As long as we’re back in time for the results that is...

A Mad Weekend in Wales

My husband is a bit crazy - he would probably agree as why else would he have married me?! Every now and then his craziness overflows onto the rest of the family and that’s what happened last weekend.

As a rite of passage our four daughters had to climb Snowdon. They all packed up and off they went to stay with a lovely couple the husband had met whilst travelling in India and Nepal in the 70s. They had walked through the foothills up to base camp at Everest and have been great mates ever since.

The Welsh trip – a father/daughter bonding experience – was enjoyed most of the time and endured at others – I did sympathise as I had had to do the same trip to qualify as a wife!!

After a family lunch one of my daughters suggested that it might be an experience to repeat now they were all grown up and if it could be organised could they all bring boyfriends or of course in one case HUSBAND!

Their father was ecstatic that the suggestion had come from them and went into overdrive booking the most wonderfully eccentric hotel just at the bottom of the mountain, where the 1953 successful Everest team stayed when they trained for the expedition. It’s full of the most fascinating memorabilia including a shrunken head that had been sent from Peru by one of the expedition members.

The intrepid group set off after making their packed lunches on the wall outside the hotel. They all went looking like an ad for Ellis Brigham with a collection of thermals, gaiters, boots and rucksacks – one boyfriend got to the top in shorts – not bad for October. The weather had been really kind and all those Brora cashmere bed socks proved totally unnecessary as the hotel was kept at tropical temperature.

The next morning we woke to a damp, cold and misty day and descended upon the delicious breakfast, eating everything from kippers to a full Welsh breakfast and of course eggs - which reminds me, if anyone tells you it’s impossible to break a raw egg in the palm of your hand DO NOT BELIEVE THEM, as the grandfather clock in the hotel and one unsuspecting guest will verify…

A Room of One’s Own

I only have myself to blame, of course. I’ve been banging on, literally for years, about having a turn out of the twins’ bedrooms, only to be politely repelled as they hung on determinedly to their books, teddies, Lego, Matchbox and assorted paraphernalia of the previous fifteen years. Recently, though, things have started to change. And, if anything, things are going a little too well for my liking.

Literally scores of bags of old clothes, books and toys have found their way onto the landing, into the back of my car and, eventually, to the charity shops and recycling facilities in nearby Stratford. I was delighted – at first. But then the trouble started.

Stripped of clutter, the kids’ rooms look forlorn and I’m now in the throes of a makeover that would have Lawrence L-B shivering in his patent riding boots! This time, though, I seem to have got through and the turn out has been achieved beyond my wildest dreams. If anything, it’s moved into the realm of my nightmares.

I’ve started with my son’s room, thinking (possibly mistakenly) that it would be simpler. So far he’s gone for plain white walls and woodwork but he seems to have a bit of an Austin Powers thing going and is holding out for shag-pile carpet! Until we manage to source that, he’s rocking a Cool Britannia vibe with this gorgeous Union Jack rug from Cox and Cox.

His plain, emulsioned walls are looking super cool with Banksy-inspired wall stickers that couldn’t be easier to apply.

He’s nothing if not consistent with his theme and was thrilled when I came up with a thoroughly patriotic pillowcase from the ever desirable Jack Wills.

So far, so good. But I’m slightly worried he’ll be hoping for an Italian Job-style Mini in a few birthday’s time. I think it might be time to get the Matchbox version out again.

Easy Like Sunday Morning...

With the clocks going back and the days getting darker (and, of course, the inevitable temptation of X Factor rooting my bottom to the sofa) my mind has been turning to cosy nights in and lazy weekend mornings when pyjamas are the dress code of choice.

It somehow feels as though winter is truly upon us now and so rather than run the risk of being caught in my tatty cupcake emblazoned PJs by my sister’s boyfriend again, I might invest in some seriously luxurious loungewear such as this gorgeously soft nightshirt by loungewear experts hush.

Since I have the circulation of an octogenarian and can only have so many hot baths a day for fear of turning into a wrinkled prune, my toes are constantly chilly. My only method to combat this cold-feet syndrome are a pair of Brora’s heavenly cashmere socks which are sure to keep me toasty as I sip on a cup of the most decadent hot chocolate around.

Finally, there’s nothing better than a spot of baking on a autumnal afternoon and whilst I certainly don’t profess to being a Nigella quite yet (a few too many burnt cupcakes would verify that), I love nothing more than the calming process of having friends over and whipping up some cookies...and eating vast quantities of the batter in the process. Previously queen of the catwalk and now kitchen diva, Sophie Dahl has written the perfect book for perusing...the pictures alone are enough to make to run for your apron and never look back.

Of course, all these cakes might have a somewhat detrimental effect on the waistline but then again, that’s the beauty of winter! Cover all sins by wrapping up in a cosy jumper and forget about calorie counting....besides, those chocolate cakes are essential for extra winter insulation, aren’t they?!

Holding Out for a Hen!

It’s been quite a month, what with turning 33, having my hen do, some job hunting and actually realising we’re only 10 weeks away from the big day!

I have to admit, the invites are still not out and with this postal strike I’m somewhat panicking on the inside - how much to courier across the UK???

I wrote them in the style of an old fashioned Victorian wedding invite and bought the stationary from John Lewis - credit crunch after all and with a 'whizz kid on the Mac' fiancé I thought it was the best option so we can print them ourselves. I must say, he’s done a good job. We both love them, and I just hope the guests get to see them.

In the meantime I had a hilarious and wonderful hen do! With my love of socialising with friends, dancing and Pinot Grigio, I feel like the last ten years have been one long hen party for me and I claimed I didn't really need one. My best friends had other ideas...

I was told to wear 80s gear (OH GOD!) and no other information was revealed - just sly looks between friends. I decided on Madonna’s Like a Virgin album cover - 80s wedding stylee. I found most of it in my wardrobe. Some white lace long fingerless gloves, crucifix necklaces and giant gold ‘M’ earrings from Topshop later and I’m all set.

We arrive, hair crimped, on a Saturday morning at a venue in Clapham - the gorgeous gals in everything from Dynasty glamorous shoulder pads, sequins and thigh highs to Fame legwarmers, school boy blazers and tutu combos, lots of fluoro and big hair - fabulous!

As we walk in and they crack open the champers at 9.30am I realise we’re in a recording studio with 80s music blaring out… It doesn't take me long to twig. We’re recording our very own music video!!!!!

It was fantastic fun (albeit a little embarrassing) and I thoroughly recommend it - we mimed and danced to the classic 'I need a Hero' by Bonnie Tyler, we had our very own choroegrapher and make up artists and even learnt a few routines. The finished article comes in the shape of a DVD in one week’s time - we cannot wait!

The day continued with a gorgeous boat trip, my Mum, Grandmother and Mother-in-Law to be joining us and an 80s party on the boat. We played Mr and Mrs and they bought me some fantastic gifts both sentimental and silly and there were tears and lots of laughter. I loved every second and only one hen was ill the next morning!

It was possibly the first time I actually thought OH.MY.GOD I’m getting married - soon. In 10 weeks. Straight on the phone to the seamstress who is doing the BMs, fabric hunting on Berwick street, sending TR off to the suit makers and standing over that bloody printer with a look of sheer desperation on my face!

TR also made a marquee plan and checked the weather on New Year’s Eve over the last 10 years. It could be anything so we have to be ready for all eventualities. I need to think about keeping the BMs warm, and since I’m not a fan of the all girls in white fur shrugs look, I’m looking for a mixture, perhaps a cashmere wrap from Brora for one, vintage fur from Portobello for another and some antique brooches?

I’m also stressed about shoes! I can't justify the Louboutins and haven't found anything my style on the high street… will keep scouring SheerLuxe’s wedding section for nude ties and unique wedding shoes and see how I go! I’m quite excited about matchmaking with the table plan but I think those invites need to get out first…

Warm Chorizo and Chick Pea Salad

Serves 4

Prep time - 50 mins

A hearty supper with a kick for those chilly nights.

Ingredients

75ml Olive Oil
200g Sliced Chorizo Sausage
200g Peeled and Chopped Red Onion
1 Lge Red Pepper – cored, deseeded and thinly sliced
3 Garlic Cloves – peeled and finely chopped
1 Tsp Cumin Seeds
Two x 440g tins Chick Peas – drained and rinsed
2 Tbsp Chopped Fresh Coriander
Juice of 1 Lemon
Freshly Ground Black Pepper and Salt
Coriander Sprigs to garnish

Heat 15ml of the olive oil in a non-stick frying pan and cook the chorizo over a medium heat for a minute or two.

Remove from the pan with a slotted spoon into a bowl. Set aside.

Fry the onion until nicely brown and then add the red pepper, garlic, cumin and chick peas.

Cook all of this for a further 5 minutes, stirring frequently so that it does not stick and then add this to the chorizo. Sprinkle this with the remaining olive oil, lemon juice and chopped coriander.

Season well and serve immediately garnished with the coriander sprigs.

Heels Away

So now I am a mother of three! Just two months after my first turned three, and just two months before my second turns two, Leon Magnus was born at home weighing a healthy 8lb1. He’s heaven. It’s hectic, but heaven.

And if two children weren’t enough to make me feel like a grown up, well, I really, really feel like a grown-up now. It was a strange epiphany. For some, it happens when they realise they’d rather be at home with a bottle of Merlot than out clubbing in Hoxton; for me it was the day that I accepted that a pair of my fiercest heels were no longer lifestyle-appropriate, listed them on eBay and bought not one, but two pairs of trainers.

Things didn’t quite go to plan with the heels – already puzzled by the fact that no one was watching my gorgeous shoes, I was even more perturbed to be contacted by a potential buyer asking for ‘more pictures’. I’d already included photos from every angle in the listing so what, I politely emailed back, did they want to see? “More pictures of them on your feet,” came the reply.

Horrified, I took a quick squizz at their buying history: suffice to say that it quickly became apparent that I was dealing with a man. Not wanting to point my Jimmy Choos (which I am most assuredly not selling, even if I have four more children) and shout “foot fetishist!” unfairly, I sought the opinions of friends, whose mirth knew no bounds when they pointed out that I’d accidentally put the listing under ‘men’s shoes’. Is this baby brain?

But back to my trainers. I can’t quite resign myself to Converse (it’s one of those “But I remember wearing these first time around” things. Grown up is fine; old is not) but Ash are another story altogether. Sadly, my-wardobe had sold out of my size but I managed to get a hold of a pair from Office where, to my joy, I discovered that they also had my size in metallic. I may be grown up, but who could resist the lure of a flash of silver peeping out from under the hem of their jeans on a miserable winter’s day? And all while keeping your feet dry and allowing you to run after scarpering children…

With shoes on the agenda, Leon is now sporting these adorable lion moccasins - I’ve still got Phoenix and Cassian’s baby shoes somewhere and, like my Choos, I won’t ever get rid of them – but, because I prefer the pale blues and pinks of baby clothes to be mixed with stronger colours, my new favourite things are this chocolate & aqua all-in-one and chocolate hat. Actually, that’s not true. My new favourite thing is the sight of my three children. Especially, dare I say, when they’re all asleep.

Post Wedding Blues

At last, some time to sit down, drink tea and write my blog.

The wedding is over. Nine months of anticipation and excitement, and 27 years of fantasising and now it’s history. Nothing left to dream of during boring days in the office. No peeking at Brides magazine whilst he’s not looking, and no searching websites for inspirational ideas to brighten up the perfect marquee!

Whilst I thought getting back to London would give me time to relive the day, looking through pictures and watching the DVD. I was in fact launched straight back into work. London Fashion week, 5am start times, copious amounts of coffee and sore feet was actually the perfect welcome home.

The most stressful and exciting part of the shows is always the last 15 minutes of getting ready. A model arriving late from another show, covered in fluorescent paint is when a seriously good make-up remover is needed. I always use sensitive baby wipes as cleansers, they’re just as good as other wipes and half the price! If they’re good enough for a baby’s bottom, then they’re good enough for our weathered faces.

When it comes to the eyes, it is important to be extra careful. Stay away from anything perfumed or high in alcohol. The favorite and a staple product in everyone’s kit is Bioderma’s Crealine make up remover. It’s not available in the UK but can be purchased online here. Also try Dermalogica’s Soothing Eye Make-up Remover, which is oil-free, alcohol-free and water-soluble, and matched to the pH of tears.

So with the busy schedule to welcome me home, the only post-wedding blues I experienced was the moment I stepped on the scales. Six pounds weight gain was not the welcome back I needed. With models that resembled my daily intake of food surrounding me all week, I quickly embarked a serious exercise regime with a personal trainer to get me back into shape. Ok, so I’m married but that’s no excuse to let it slip!

Exercise has never really worked well for me, perhaps because I just don’t push myself enough. I always find it easier to just say no to pudding! But with a new personal trainer I am hoping to see some results. My next blog will hopefully bear witness to this. Wish me luck!

What to Wear to a Winter Wedding...

The age old question: what to wear to a winter wedding. Tights is a must but how thick (black opaques can look harsh), long or short sleeves (dancing to consider), coat vs jacket... and on it goes.

With one of my greatest girlfriends tying the knot in under two weeks' time (I’m super excited for them and he’s a dream) you’d have thought these decisions would have long since been made.

But with a house move, an office move (next week), the lurgy hitting us all and lots of new SL developments (our boutique is coming soon!), there simply hasn’t been a spare second.

I had planned to pop to Suzannah’s new London boutique and choose a fabric for the Petal Sculpt (the shape is soooo flattering) but needless to say, I haven't made it there.

So instead I’ve gone for the easy option and ordered online. Selected Femme is my new favourite label – simple shapes and cuts with a twist on timeless classic.

I fell in love with the back of this LBD and when I tried it on 24 hours later it didn’t disappoint. My new Selected Femme coat and long black leather gloves will keep me warm and toasty until we sit down to dinner. At which point anything goes.

Velvet Underground

After graduating from Newcastle University in July, Lucy now lives in Fulham, London and is hoping to pursue a career in fashion journalism. When she’s not interning, she spends her time munching on maltesers and Thai Green Curry, talking about the X Factor and counting down the days till the Sunday Times Style magazine.

Guilty pleasures include giant cupcakes, Relocation, Relocation, ridiculously overpriced hair products that promise ‘miracles’, and, worryingly, sneaking Topshop, Urban Outfitters, ASOS and Zara bags past her father and boyfriend.

The age old rule of style goes that if you can remember the trend the first time round don’t jump on the bandwagon when it inevitably pops up on the catwalk for round two. Being a child of the late 80s I have vivid memories of velvet in its dodgy-choker heyday; Cher in Clueless proudly rocking scarlet velvet platforms with over the knee socks, The Craft in all their teen Goth glory and my sister with a pre-GHD barnet to rival Julia Roberts’ in 80s classic Mystic Pizza, wearing a maroon velvet dress (lovingly handmade by my mother) to a pony club ball.

However, I am undeterred and have once again fallen under the spell of deliciously soft, buttery velvet which, unlike many of the 80s throwbacks reappearing this Autumn/Winter, is a trend which can be directional whilst still being grown-up and glamorous.

As the skies turn white and your heating bills escalate, velvet is the perfect pick-me-up and lends itself perfectly to the warm berry colours that are ultra flattering on a somewhat spooky pale winter complexion like mine, which sadly looks set to last long past Halloween. Vince’s burgundy velvet tunic is as warming and festive as mulled wine and mince pies. Unlike its 90s predecessors, this season’s velvet is loosely draped and is the simplest way to add a touch of sophisticated luxury to an outfit, day or night.

Topshop’s black velvet boyfriend blazer is a soft take on androgynous tailoring whilst their little shrug is a great on-trend way to protect chilly shoulders at a winter wedding or party, and if you want a really subtle nod towards the trend they also have a range of velvet corset bras which could be worn under a sheer black blouse or silk top for a demure glimpse.

If you are as attached to the safety blanket of black as Morticia Addams, velvet is the perfect way to add texture and interest to your staple colour. Celine has given the little black dress a ‘glunge’ twist in black velvet whilst twenty8twelve have embraced the dark side with their elegant black velvet coat dress which is the epitome of Gothic chic and one my favourite pieces around.

However, if like me you often find yourself with the budget of a flea, or are a savvy shopper who’d rather save her splurges for wicked red soles and bags that have a waiting list longer than my local doctor, simply replace your skinny jeans with a pair of velvet leggings from the likes of Cheap Monday and Vila. Simple, easy and cool, they’re the modern girl’s answer to thermals this winter; just as cosy but leaps ahead in the style stakes. Plus, they take me right back to those days spent watching Heart Break High and Party of Five whilst my sisters poured over velvet party dresses and Christian Slater in Smash Hits.

The Domestic Dream

Elizabeth is a recent Geography graduate, yet is determined to move swiftly away from her hiking boots and plethora of OS Maps.

Amongst her minor weaknesses are cupcakes in all flavours and frostings and she simply dreams of being styled head-to-toe in Reiss work wear. Her Mulberry Bayswater destroyed her student loan, so for now, the French Connection sale and Topshop keep her sane.

As a recent graduate, I feel it is time to officially fly the nest. As well as arranging my travels, sorting out my Curriculum Vitae and generally avoiding certified adulthood, invitations of housewarmings (well, more pokey London flat celebrations) are flooding through into my Facebook inbox. However welcoming this might be, such events only fill me with envy, as due to my forthcoming world tour in January, this situation will not be my own for many more months.

Currently, my brain is filled with my own dreamy home interiors and I’m planning on furnishing my fictitious future abode to the brim with New England fabrics, far in advance.

Oliver Bonas’s delightful gilt letters and Graham Green's festive wall words I think are appropriate all year round, proving that their gifts, like our furry friends, are not just for Christmas despite them featuring on my list to Mr Claus himself.

On a more selfless level, I felt my energy should be focused towards helping my friends warm their homes with lovely gifts, and due to my decreasing bank balance my creativity has had to take on a variety of forms.

I arrived at this weekend’s West Hampstead doorstep armed with a cream ‘hand painted’ frame inspired by The Orchard’s vintage ribbon photo frame.

Whilst clearly still in a generous mood, my small obsession with cupcakes became slightly out of hand when to ensure a glowing reference from my past summer employer, I used a small sprinkling of originality and decided on a delivery of a basket of classic muffins and cakes courtesy of Beverly Hills Bakery for a fun twist on your classic thank you gift. So for now, I shall be keeping my coral polished fingers crossed that a glamorous future career will fund my domestic dream...

A Nip in the Air

The other day I found myself stuck between a sock and a hard place….looking outside the window and seeing nothing but clear blue sky, I decided to eschew my many pairs of socks and tights (neglected for so many months and screaming for attention) and go bare-legged for at least another week.

Big mistake! As I sat on a thin metal chair at Somerset House during LFW, I began to shiver: not exactly the idea of ‘cool’ I was going for when I got dressed that morning. Indeed, it seems that slowly, ever so slowly, a chill is starting to greet me as I hop out of bed in the mornings.

Normally, there’s always a part of me that dreads the end of lazy summer days; the time of year when you can throw on a sundress and waltz out the door. Now, however, such essentials as tights and scarves are beginning to creep back into fashion vocabulary.

As the leaves start to turn, I find myself turning many a magazine page lusting over the new season’s fashion s and longing for a wardrobe update (that doesn’t include the boredom of tights shopping!).

Where better to start than the winter coat: often as elusive as the perfect man and certainly as time-consuming, finding one’s ideal coat can often be an ordeal. I love the back-to-school feel of this Vivienne Westwood coat which would undoubtedly be Blair Waldorf’s outerwear of choice for lunch on the Met steps.

The difficulty with October dressing is that whilst we might seek out coats with gusto, the weather does not always ask for them. Layering then is the key: thin knitwear and jersey tops and dresses from Gap will be my saving grace for those days when I leave for work shivering and by lunchtime have thrown off my cardigan in a sweltering heap.

Jeans are of course the ubiquitous fashion staple all year round and these super-skinny Current/Elliots tick all the boxes. I’ll be teaming these with a sequined knit and some killer ankle boots for instant autumnal chic.

As for me, I’m going to open my tights drawer, examine the evidence and log onto M&S. Perhaps it’s finally time to don a pair…

Five Fives Make...

Yes, it's my birthday next week. Which is exciting right? Any excuse for a boozy night out, half of which I won’t remember, the other half I’m likely to regret.

After disgracing myself (again) last weekend – I’ll spare you the details – I fear (but feel) reaching another birthday milestone means it’s time to ring some necessary changes; like New Year’s resolutions only I’m actually intending on sticking to these. Where better place to start than at my party.

Addressing the source first, it’s adios to storage containers full of non-descript ‘is there rum in this?’ punch and salut to a much more classy alternative; Funkin’ cocktails. Add a shot of rum, ice and mint and you have yourself a Mojito in a trice. Boom. And not a plastic cup in sight.

As for my general attire, a wardrobe clearance is more overdue than a Jennifer Aniston wedding. Last year, admittedly recession hit, I went all charity shop, trailer trash chic, wearing a shirt that set me back three big ones (£3).

For this year's celebration though, a tee from 2k by Gingham (check out Liberty around sale time) can begin proceedings before heading out in a simple but classic look; white, fitted shirt from Zara with my trusty, purple pencil tie. And I might even comb my hair.

Lastly, presumptuous but de rigueur; the boudoir for later. Ditch the Power Rangers duvet cover and pillowcase combo or get dumped is the message I’m getting at the moment. In its place, a soupcon of sophistication. The perfect tonic with the ladies apparently. Like Calpol to an eight year old with a temperature.

Yes, The White Company is sorting me out with some Egyptian cotton bedding, and on the recommendation that my girlfriend likes a good rug, I unbuttoned my shirt to reveal some chest hair. Deemed inappropriate and ‘unfunny’, I duly bought one of these bad boys from Heal’s.

All fixed up and ready to look sharp, I’ll let you know how I fare…

Hostessing, Hairdos & Halloumi

If I had ever thought that having a large group of friends round for ‘canapés and drinks’ would be as calm and collected as Nigella’s drinks parties (me gliding around Waitrose during the day and casually ‘throwing some things together’, and later, my guests chuckling heartily over the twinkling of jazz in the background), I was sincerely mistaken.

It was the day of my flatwarming and I had already spent the whole morning getting hot and bothered with the hoover and every cleaning product under the sun (don’t ask why I was cleaning my flat before hoards of muddy shoes were to tramp through it).

And as if the flat wasn’t warm enough already (I live in the roof, aka a greenhouse – only comfortable if you are sitting in front of a fan in your underwear, drinking iced tea).

2pm. Little brother arrives at the train station. I was so hungry that I forgot my ‘no consumption of anything but salad and water before the velvet bodycon dress goes on’ rule, and promptly dragged us to Gourmet Burger before you could say ‘bloated’.

Oh well. My blow dry was booked, and as long as my hair was big, no one would notice my food baby. Note to self: do NOT try out new salon hours before one’s party.

My surly stylist looked at me unconvinced when I asked for my flat, poker straight, mass of hair to be blow dried into a huge, bouncy Liz Hurley-style ‘do, before throwing a couple of well-thumbed gossip rags in front of me. Where was Vogue? Bazaar? I was in Kensington for goodness sake!

After half an hour of being burnt by a hairdryer, and hair half-heartedly rolled up into whatever seemed to be hanging around (including a brush), there I was, looking like a worse for wear Charlie’s Angels reject. ‘Next time you should be more patient’, Mr. Surley barked. I narrowed my eyes at him through my untamed bouffant, and proceeded to my flat where my trusty Babyliss Rollers were waiting to turn my unfortunate birds nest into a gravity-defying mass of glossy waves (sort of).

Glancing at my new watch I began to panic – it was 6.30, my hair was a disaster and the canapés weren’t made. Luckily, my stoic troop of little helpers arrived – C and H whipped up some culinary delights (asparagus spears wrapped in parma ham, smoked salmon and cream cheese bites, and grilled halloumi with chilli sauce, to be exact), and O fanned me with the latest issue of Grazia, whilst I yelped something along the lines of ‘It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to!’.

8pm and the first of my guests arrived – luckily I’ve honed my make-up routine to last exactly the time it takes them to enter the building and find my front door, so by the time they rattled on the door knocker, I was the image of calm, dressed in navy velvet, polished and preened, holding both a tray of blinis in my hand and enough hairspray in my hair to style a woolly mammoth.

Not quite as effortless as Nigella, but they didn’t suspect a thing...

Beautiful Bayswater

When it comes to an investment piece each season, top of my wish list is a new bag. It’s the one piece that goes everywhere with you, be it work, a quick coffee with a friend or even your supermarket shop – this is the accessory that's worth a splurge.

I’m pretty hard to please when it comes to my bag for exactly this reason, so I was pretty excited to see what Mulberry had in store for this A/W. Gone are the days of understated classic – this season they’ve revamped their iconic Bayswater and introduced a Black Patent version!

Sleek and shiny, this is arm candy that I just couldn’t resist! And being designed by the luxury English company itself I just knew it wouldn't disappoint once it was safely in my arms. Lined in gorgeous suede and with every pocket and compartment a girl could need, I'm pretty confident this bag is about to become my new best friend.

It’s limited edition though so you'd better be quick if you want one too - I've ordered mine so hurry before stocks run out...

Loubous, Scallops & Steak...

Third year wedding anniversary is leather. Having just spent a small (ok large) fortune on the new house the accountant offered me restaurant and a sample swatch of leather or a new pair of Loubous, scallops and steak at our new dining table.

No brainer. Loubous, scallops (cooked with bacon, pine nuts and vinaigrette), steak... yes please. Loubous, YES PLEASE.

Given that we’re on a budget, in a recession and it’s unlikely that I’ll be owning any other new red soles for a while, I played it safe and opted for a classic.

So I arrived home to my favourite jazz, my favourite white flowers , delicious smells and our new table laid with our dinner service which we christened – it had been in storage for three years owing to the shoe box (one bed flat) being too small to use / store it.

We drank copius amount of bubbles, wine and finished with Amaretto sours (unnecessary but my favourite – just mix Amaraetto with ice and lemon juice – no sugar, it makes them too sweet).

A perfect evening and Louboutins or no Louboutins, it far outweighed the best of restaurants. What a lucky girl.

Carbon-free Footprint

Another weekday morning, and I have wrenched myself out of bed, dozed off again in the shower, and checked the weather. I do try to be a morning person, believing that the mind, in this matter, is a very powerful tool.

Mostly I am rather optimistic about leaving the house; I am lucky that I enjoy my job, and as every day is different, there is some joy in the surprise element.

Don’t get me wrong, bluebirds do not accompany me as I sing my way along and, were I to become Prime Minister, my first request would be the three-day weekend, but there is a rather motivating element to a morning. I would say that for the most part, I leave the flat for the office in good spirits, ready to take on the world.

And then for the part that makes me want to beat a hasty retreat: the Herculean task of battling my way to work.

I have come up with a new word – AAGOY: a noun meaning the total reverse effect to that had on a human being by a session of yoga or meditation, induced by the daily commute. Also being the sound emitted by said commuter upon release from the doors of an overcrowded bus, train or tube, bubbling with pent-up frustration and rage. There then follows a period of quivering bewilderment, bitterness and utter disbelief at the injustice that such an ordeal can have merited actual payment, and a firm resolution is made to seek an alternative.

The obvious answer would be a bike, but I simply don’t have the fighting spirit necessary to keep up with the chic Clerkenwell cycling crowd, nor (after a very close shave with a passing juggernaut at school) with the traffic. I am a huge fan of a weekend two-wheel promenade, but in my mind it is frenzy-free, and usually requires a rural backdrop, plus companions and a picnic basket. Some friends swear by their scooters, but I am too much of a daydreamer for that to be a good idea.

So, having reached the end of my tether with the status quo, the solution for me has been found in the form of two ever-reliable and lifelong friends, my feet. I am very lucky that I can walk to work, having found that at a brisk pace (with opportunity for sufficient absorption of surroundings), it takes me 50 minutes. This is only ten immensely pleasurable minutes longer than that outrageously cumbersome bendy beast that my so-called friend Boris was going to ban, and I am much less dishevelled by the end of the journey, and not at all shouty.

My super-comfortable trainers are perfect for the job. Furthermore, with the money I no longer put on my Oyster card, I will get an Anya Hindmarch tote for carrying my work gear and protecting my dream handbag (and my back).

And so it will be the commute of choice from now on, except perhaps in weather of biblical proportions, when I will just have to try deep-breathing exercises. On some days I will take music with me, on others fingerless gloves or my Hunter boots (stylish and sensible), and all of these factors will contribute to my sunny disposition in the workplace.

I will solve my problems en route, mapping out my tasks before I even unlock the office door, and feel a little less guilty when I don’t make it to the gym in the evenings. There will be coffee, sometimes a breakfast banana, a phone catch-up with my Mum – it will turn from the part of the day I most dread to the bit I love the best.

Window(s) Shopping

Alice Kelleher is a 24-year-old freelance writer often known to be distracted by shiny pretty things.

Fresh off the block after returning from a five-month travelling trip around south East Asia, Alice is slightly obsessed with Noodles and totally obsessed by the latest greatest fads and trends.

When she’s not blogging about her latest fancy on her own blog, Reflection of Alice, she can be found rummaging through the racks of Liberty and Topshop.

As much as I like to think as myself of a fashionista, I think by definition I am quite the opposite. Often found scouring house clearance racks at various boot sales in and around London, my inclination towards second hand vintage pieces has taken me to some well, grotty places.

You see, scouting beautiful vintage cardigans from dodgy salesmen in the grounds of the Wimbledon dog track has become one of my favourite past times, but its hardly glamorous.

So as I snap up vintage brooches, rings and clothing from a household that has either a) been repossessed or b) the previous proprietor has passed on to another life, I do feel a twinge of guilt towards the person who once owned my find.

Still, whilst I am on a tight (really tight) budget needs must, and as even a recessionista is allowed to dream I have listed three items below that I would be investing in right now in IF money were no object.

I’d be buying this dress from Reiss, (it looks even better on, I’m in love) and wearing this beautiful Leblas ring (perfect simplicity, pictured). But until my writing dream comes true, I’m afraid it’s back to granny chic via the dog track for me. Sigh.

MOTB Goes Into Temporary Retirement

One down, three to go, but I’m hoping for a bit of a rest before the next wedding, which allows me time for a bit of reflection... Or does it?

Oh no! One daughter buys a flat with her boyfriend and I am on waiting for deliveries duty (currently awaiting the arrival of this sofa), the youngest is off to University and needs EVERYTHING apparently- I’m not sure how she has survived until now without some of the items she absolutely HAS TO HAVE! Thank goodness for M&S online and the new essential line from John Lewis - everything arrived at my door and went straight into the car up to Newcastle.

And then there is my mother, who feels that now she has reached the grand old age of 88 and reigned supreme at her granddaughter’s wedding she is due some quality time with her eldest daughter and guess who that is...

We were going to visit relatives in Devon and onto Cornwall, but my cousin in Devon can no longer have us and the matriarch has decided that to have me to herself at home would be a good idea as we can go on day trips and then spend the evenings doing the things she likes us to do together.

But I know that she will be so tired after her day out that I will be sitting with the television while she is in the Land of Nod, only to wake up feeling bright and breezy after her long snooze as I am crawling up to bed.

With my trusty laptop in tow, I have started planning the week. So far I have visited National Trust as I know she’ll love visiting Churchill’s old home at Chartwell where one can see so much of the history of this great man, from brick walls to war stories.

Another website which I have found very useful is Britain’s Finest. This is an easy to use site where one can find not only places to visit but also places to eat and stay nearby.

I really fancy a trip to Lewes to see the Anne of Cleves Museum, which is in a house that was part of her divorce settlement from Henry VIII. All of you who have been watching the Tudors should see it as well.

Planning this is making a wedding look easy…

Extractions and Excercise

I had my first facial a few weeks ago… So I know what you’re thinking, an almost 33 year old in fashion PR, how can this be? My Clarins Beauty Flash Balm and Laura Mercier Tinted Moisturiser have always seen me through but I went to the Balance clinic for a bespoke facial and to learn how to look after my skin for the next 3 months until the big day. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but 'extraction' was definitely not the word I expected to hear.

I lay down in a dimly lit room with relaxing music playing - I was literally in a bed with a duvet and an eye mask and I simply waited.

The steam drifted over my face as the lovely beauty technician then started squeezing away! I learn, as I am apologising to her for the job she has embarked on (she promises she enjoys it - eeuuwwww) that this is steam to open my pores and then blackheads are 'extracted' (in places my poor little visage never new black heads could exist).

It was at times slightly painful, at no time relaxing or enjoyable but I must say it felt satisfying once the hour was over. After the extraction I was drenched in vitamin C serum and left alone with my thoughts - which were that I’m not cut out for this kind of thing.

I left the clinic to meet TR at the pub looking slightly bloated but with very soft smooth skin - so I guess it works. I’m meant to go back in 6 weeks but am not sure I can go through that again - much like my one and only bikini wax!

It's almost 3 months until the big day. I aim to have a flat tummy by then, perhaps even some visible stomach muscles, but for someone who’s lacking in motivation (even with a wedding coming up) and definitely missing that exercise gene, the idea of starting on a healthy active plan of sorts fills me with dread.

Once my colleagues and I made a weekly healthy diet plan on top of our normal eating habits - mine consisted of one cup of green tea every day, walking half way to work once a week (about 1/4 of a mile) and 25 star jumps a week - I couldn't even keep that up!

I tried to go for a jog the other day… I went to the park and tried to run about 1/4 of a mile. I succeeded but with two rests (actual lying down in the park rests). This isn’t good, so I’m really hoping that in the coming weeks I find that motivation and get running around the park and enjoying stomach crunches, but until then I have found deciding on which Heidi Klein bikini and which Melissa Odabash kaftan for the honeymoon great medicine…

I Dreamed a Dream...

Bethany is going into her final year studying English Literature and Theatre Studies. With grand wardrobe aspirations – picture Big’s present to Carrie and you’re on track – she’s looking forward to leaving student budgeting behind and beginning her illustrious career in fashion (she says with fingers crossed whilst touching wood!).

When she’s not busy ‘reading the news’ on celebrity gossip websites and fashion blogs, Bethany can be found scouring Net-a-Porter, Matches and Browns for her future wardrobe. When reality bites, Topshop and ASOS never let her down.

Whilst performing my Saturday night routine of watching my favourite X-Factor auditionees on YouTube, I was reminded of the not-so distant memory that is Su-Bo (Susan Boyle to non-Heat magazine readers). I flicked onto her first Britain’s Got Talent audition and, as I did the first time I saw it, I cried a little...

But this mini sob session was not entirely down to the magical story of the never-been-kissed Scot. It was more due to my very unfriendly bank balance and the wonders I had found during my (Microsoft) Windows shopping trip, with said trip being made to dress my imaginary - and rich! - alter-ego.

They were simply beautiful – and entirely unattainable. And as Su-Bo so perfectly put it, “I dreamed a time in time gone by/ When hope was high/ And life worth living”... yes, I know, all rather dramatic of me...

I began this imaginary shop with a ‘running errands’ outfit consisting of this beauty of a jacket coupled with these jeans. Teamed with a simple tank top, I would stun passers-by with my edgy yet ‘just thrown on’ look. I’m not quite sure of what these errands would consist of, but they would most definitely be glamorous meetings in super-exclusive places...

For my imaginary evening of dinner at China Tang in the Dorchester with my entrepreneur (and ex- Calvin Klein model) fiancée, I made a couple more mental purchases... And I knew this 3.1 Phillip Lim number would do the trick as soon as I saw her! Dinner was divine, with wine and conversation flowing as my 3.1 Phillip Lim dress glittered in the candlelight. And then, I woke up.

After watching the aforementioned video, I decided I needed to pull my imaginary (but not so unattainable) cashmere socks up. and devise another plan. Instead of torturing myself, I would focus my dreamy head on some recent high street hits. This super smart French Connection jacket would no doubt make me feel that little bit more glamorous on my not-so chic errands, whilst some sparkle from this dress would be fab for dinner at the Troubador with my boyfriend... So much cooler than China Tang anyway.

We're In...

Ok so now I understand a) what it means to be a proud new home owner and b) what it is to LOVE your bed.

Yes we’re in and boy am I knackered. Like never before. A week off work to move house is more strenuous than the most stressful of working weeks. But somehow the adrenalin just kept me going...

Organisation is the name of my game and all this weekend’s visitors couldn’t quite believe we’ve only been in there for a little longer than a week. But with a hectic work / life balance (work is life etc) I wanted to get it all done and dusted so I can enjoy it a bit before I have to start thinking about the office move (yes everything always happens at once).

But we’re nearly there and it's a dream – mood boards (there were) / spread sheets / meticulous planning have all paid off, I think... here’ s a little look at the bed I’m the proud new owner of.

To work out what my best buy is in here would be tough but I will say a lot of it has to come down to Milk & Honey and the number of people who have asked me where my new bed linen comes from is testament to that. The sheets are so soft (100% cotton satin - well worth the money, thankfully the accountant agrees) that it actually feels like we're in a hotel....

And as for the Goose Down and Goose Feather pillows I treated us to... wow (if you’re not getting a good night then these are the answer) - getting up for the new gym next week is going to be VERY hard.

Preparing the Nest

With less than 2 weeks left until my due date, preparations for the arrival of baby number 3 are well under way here – but the poor wee thing has barely merited a purchase in my spending efforts. Phoenix and Cassian both scored beautiful new moses baskets when they were born but since they outgrew these long ago (these days, they sleep a blissful -for me - 12 hours a night in toddler beds), the new baby has simply inherited one of their cast-off cribs.

More urgent has been the small matter of my A/W wardrobe, this year bought with discreet breastfeeding as well as warmth and style in mind.

Having lived through the chilly misery of having a newborn baby in the winter months of 2007/2008 - think awkward, wind-lashed, park-bench feeding and a 16 month old toddler who would wait until Mummy was teetering dangerously close to attracting accusations of indecent exposure to run off in the direction of the park gate or nearest feral dog - I’ve learned my lesson.

A simple black knit dress (with those all-important buttons) and the luxurious, drapey simplicity of my charcoal TravelWrap will take me just about anywhere (and keep baby snugly too) as well as providing the much-needed feel-good factor that any sleep-deprived mother needs, whether she has one child or three.

To this end, I’ve also treated myself to Isabella Oliver’s sumptuous cable cosy which will look as perfect with jeans in the early days as it will with my leather pencil skirt later on (ie – when I can fit back into it)

New kit for baby, however, is rather thin on the ground: gender neutral newborn clothes have been pulled out, laundered and obsessively folded and re-folded (the nesting instinct is in full throttle and oh my god, were Phoenix and Cassian ever really that tiny??), with the boy/ girl ones left packed away until after the birth, while the cloth nappies that I bought in 2006 are getting their 3rd airing, with just one or two top-ups needed.

I have, however, bought the baby its own sheepskin just as I did for Phoenix and Cassian. Renowned for its soothing properties, it will help baby to relax and sleep, especially as I’m spending lots of time cuddled up with it so that it absorbs some of my scent. Still, that one purchase looks awfully paltry when compared to the endless parcels we took delivery of when expecting Phoenix and Cassian.

“I thought the youngest child was supposed to be the spoiled one,” says Dave, who is fairly adamant that our family is stopping at a headcount of five.

“Well,” I say casually, hopefully, as I unwrap the packaging on my new boots “maybe it’s not going to be the youngest…?”

Dyer's Remorse

Buyer’s remorse is something we’ve all encountered. That awful, horrible feeling that you encounter after you purchase something you can’t a) afford b) wear or c) return. But what about dyer’s remorse? That all too uncomfortable regret resulting from a decision to dye your hair from your naturally high-lighted brunette hue to one falling somewhere between Posh Spice’s chestnut locks and Ginger Spice’s signature red just because you want a “change”. Obviously I am speaking from experience.

With the new Autumn lines flooding the stores and me searching for the perfect Fall footwear, I decided to take the change in seasons to an over-the-top extreme and dye my hair. Honestly, what was I thinking? A new Fall wardrobe definitely should have sufficed in terms of transitioning from August to September but instead I became overzealous and made a change that I’m most certainly regretting now.

Luckily I was able to use my horrific hair dying experience as justification for a spending spree. The result? A plethora of new fabulous Fall footwear.

Lately I’ve noticed that when I begin to think about what I am going to wear I’ve been starting with the bottom up. For Fall, that can only mean one thing: boots. And in terms of the boots this season it is all about extremes.

If you’re looking to purchase the style that is sure to be all the rage this season then look no further than an over-the-knee pair. These from Topshop are affordable and adorable, making them an ideal way to spend on a popular style. The other extreme would be ankle boots, which have become a style staple for the past few seasons. These are great because they also have an antique, vintage feel. Both of these are brilliant options because they aren’t too pricey and since they are more on the trendier side, this is where you should save your pounds.

If you’re looking to splurge on a pair of boots with longevity, invest in a pair that draw from riding boots as inspiration. These Louboutins are literally perfect. If you’re looking for a pair that are a bit more traditional, these Church’s are beautiful and absolutely practical, something to keep in mind when looking to indulge in something expensive.

Nothing goes better with a new pair of boots than a new pair of leggings and Splendid is producing a very versatile selection. My favourite, for their style and practicality, are these stirrup leggings which look great with flats and are perfect when trying to squeeze into your new pair of thigh-highs (classy thigh-highs, not tawdry ones).

So even though I whole-heartedly regretted the change in my hair colour, I did entirely welcome the excuse to splurge on some new Fall finds. Every cloud…

The Lock-In

Since moving to London, I’ve done nearly all of my shopping online, because a) no one likes a fashion scrum, which is what you’ll inevitably find yourself amongst if you brave Oxford Street on a Saturday and b) for the joy of getting a parcel delivered (even if it was from me).

My one exception? Late night shopping! Only on a Thursday evening can one experience the sheer joy at being able to prance around Topshop Oxford Circus without being shoulder to shoulder with other shoppers, which has become even more of an obstacle course since the renaissance of the shoulder pad.

The other great thing about extended opening hours being that one can happily fritter away cash without actually feeling like one is spending any money (or that might be the 7 o’clock cocktails talking...).

And so that fateful Thursday I returned home laden with goodies, including my new Velvet Boyfriend Blazer – don’t laugh, velvet is very AW09 – and a white blouse with bow (not to be worn together for fear of looking like Austin Powers).

Keying the door, it wouldn’t open. And then it hit me – the caretaker had been in to have my second key copied that morning, and had DOUBLE LOCKED THE DOOR (my key being inside). Was I going to spend the night camped outside, with only my velvet blazer for warmth, like some kind of tramp resembling Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen?

I was having heart palpitations. Was I having some kind of seizure? Would I be found days later, dead and half-eaten by the neighbour’s shitszu? And more importantly, would everyone finally know the truth about my shopping addiction?

First things first – hide the bags. Then – call caretaker. Answer phone. ‘Will. It’s Natalie, from number 16. I’m locked out. Where are you?’ Was he late night shopping too? Maybe he could pick up the blouse in black too – I was having buyer’s regret.... No, stay focused, Natalie. Think, think! Aha! I whipped out my Mastercard and started furiously swiping at the door – I’d seen them do this in the movies – if it could get me into this mess, it might just get me out. It snapped as quickly as my nerves. ‘Curse these extra safe locks in London!’ I thought. And then it occurred to me – was I being punished for over-indulgence?

This was no time for self-examination, and, unless I wanted to spend the night on the floor, there was only one thing for it – head back to the West End whilst I waited. I still had my emergency cash supply, and besides, I was still thinking about the blouse in black...

Luckily for me and my bank manager, Will called. ‘I locked the second lock, didn’t I?’ he mumbled. ‘Yessss’, I replied through gritted teeth. He told me his girlfriend was in and that she’d send round the key.

Panic over. I still had the broken Mastercard to think about. Or maybe I’d leave it, and take this as a sign to stop spending. Offline, that is...

Bacon and Mushroom Frittata

Serves 4

Prep time - 30 mins

Very good lunch or supper dish. Serve with roasted tomatoes and a nice crisp green salad.

Ingredients

150g Smoked Back Bacon
175g Mushrooms
225g Boiled New Potatoes
6 Large Free Range Eggs
50g Mature Cheddar Cheese
6 Spring Onions
Salt and Freshly Ground Black Pepper
1tbsp Olive Oil

Chop the bacon, slice the mushrooms, potatoes and spring onions and grate the cheddar.

Heat the oil in a non-stick pan and cook the bacon for a few minutes. Add the mushrooms and spring onions and cook until they are soft. Then add the potatoes and give it all a good stir.

Preheat the grill.

Beat the eggs in a bowl and season well. Add this mixture to the pan and cook, stirring gently until most of the egg has set.

Turn the heat down and cook for another minute or so. Sprinkle the cheese on the top and then put the pan under the hot grill until the frittata is set and the cheese is golden. Cut into quarters and serve immediately.

The City Mouse Goes Country

Lizzy graduated in June with a degree in English Literature and the personal nickname of 'primbo' to describe her fashion style.

Her current fashion icon is Gossip Girl’s Blair Waldorf, and she consequently has an unhealthy obsession with Helene Berman headbands, Fleur of England silk slips…and Chuck Bass.

Her most coveted item is a Chanel Tweed Jacket, but until she makes her first million she is happy to settle for borrowing her mother’s quilted Chanel bag…and conveniently forgetting to return it…

OK, I admit, I am not a country girl. I am a fully-fledged, Starbucks-drinking, Oyster-card-holding Londoner. I am also inherently un-sporty; I was the one at the other end of the lacrosse pitch silently rooting for the other team, hoping I would never come in reach of the ball.

This is why I surprised even myself when I boarded the train to ‘oop north’ to watch my boyfriend play cricket for two days with the ‘Yorkshire Gents’. As soon as I arrived I realised that I was severely unprepared.

For a start, take the temperature in London (with the blissful insulation of pollution), lower it to freezing, add wind, and then you get the approximate weather in Yorkshire.

My Kimchi & Blue Blazer, so proudly purchased for summers strolling along Portobello Road did nothing to keep out the chill, and I was put to shame when I noticed the footwear of the only other girlfriend (a fully fledged Northern Lass) on site: Hunter For Jimmy Choo Wellies (note to self: must join waiting list before next visit north). My own faux Chanel ballerinas paled in comparison!

Oh well, at least when night-time fell I was prepared for the prospect of staying over in a girl’s boarding house with a group of rowdy cricketers, one of whom had turned up to the evening’s celebrations in a head to toe Pink Panther costume. My Calvin Klein PJs protected both my modesty from prying male eyes and my body from the cold night’s blasts.

Perhaps not as sexy as the Myla Nanette Chemise I currently crave, but I guess that’ll have to wait for warmer weather.

If there’s one thing this City Mouse has learnt, it’s that function sometimes has to come before fashion, but if there’s one thing she will aim for the next time she heads North it is to be more like the Country Mouse: finding crafty ways to mix the two. Next stop, Matthew Williamson for Barbour jackets! Now if only he’d be accommodating enough to create them…

Fruity Booty

There are lots of reasons that I love autumn; woodsmoke, late Sunday lunches of stews and red wine, fruits ripe for making chutneys, the chance to stare longingly at lovely cashmere bits and pieces, not to mention the annual hunt for the perfect winter boot.

Always a frenzied mission impossible for me, I invariably plump for a beautiful but ridiculously impractical version that I’ve seen in a magazine… Not this time. The 2009 boots are lovely to look at and black leather (not the usual suede), so can be for rainy days too. What an investment these are turning out to be on these mixed weather days – and it’s only September!

This weekend just past, some girlfriends and I ventured to my mum’s family holiday cottage, at the bottom of a steep-sided valley on the edge of Dartmoor in Devon. It is the most secluded and untouched part of the countryside imaginable: surrounded by verdant water-meadows stands a white house with a red tin roof straight out of a children’s story.

It’s tucked neatly into the confluence of two small rivers; one rushes so closely beneath the kitchen window you could peel your apples into it. Speaking of which, the trees at the bottom of the garden were dripping with these, blush red eaters and knobbly cookers.

To compound our excitement, we found raspberry bushes in the garden wall and the hedges to be laden with blackberries. There being six or so precious raspberries, and as many of us, we each had one fizzing at the bottom of a glass of Prosecco (to celebrate the weekend of course).

The fig tree on the front of the house was clearly being pilfered regularly – hardly a surprise, the two we found hiding were delicious. Now back in London with less opportunity to forage I am dreaming of having them again, perfectly wedded with some sheep’s cheese and some Serrano ham, or on plain greek yoghurt for breakfast with some of my goddaughter’s homemade Suffolk honey.

My Best Friend's Wedding

So it has been quite a month, I was chief BM for my best friend, a day we’ve all been looking forward to for what seems like FOREVER! It was a perfect day.

TR had his stag do (and survived) and we have also confirmed the caterer - that's the first confirmation done. 9 months in ... I can feel the snowballing coming on! Dare I say it we are quite close to actually getting invites out too?

So we were up in Cheshire at the stunning Peckforton Castle for my best friend from school’s wedding. No matter how much you’ve talked about it and we have done for over 20 years, you don't know how you’re going to feel on the day.

Everything was perfectly organised and Katy was perfect in a Caroline Castigliano organza and silk princess gown and Jimmy Choo satin heels, no stress, no panic, serene and happy.

We BMs were beyond excited in our Gina shoes and made-to-measure dresses (mine had to be let out, yes, I repeat LET OUT, a week before). On that note my fitness regime needs to start next week (or the week after?) ... with 4 months to go I'm hoping that exercise gene I’m missing will kick in…

The day went so perfectly, beautiful ceremony, amazing setting (the rain held off), and great speeches - the tears rolled and then the dancing began. A fellow bridesmaid and I kept on dancing ‘til 5am, Laura Mercier Primer and Nars Orgasm Blush still firmly in place and gold Gina heels still on. By this point the band had gone - as had most of the guests and we were with her iPod in the castle reception dancing around a chaise longue. After the third time of asking we were sent to bed.

I love weddings. The best advice I’m getting from many married friends is to make sure you take some time out together - on your own and just look at all your friends and family having a fantastic time. I am so excited when I think about doing that! Katy had half an hour in the car with the champagne and her new husband. My friend Jenny sat underneath a tree in the garden with hers and another friend just walked down the beach they got married on for twenty minutes. I will find out from my friend when she gets back from Africa (she went with Turquoise Holidays and is having the time of her life).

My biggest worry at the moment is: getting drunk and crying, crying in the service, laughing at an inappropriate moment whilst trying not to cry, refusing to leave / crying on the dancefloor.

TR says we have to leave before everyone else. He’s suggesting 1am and I’m suggesting 3am… What can I say? I like to be the last person at the party but I know deep down he’s right and we should wave to everyone and serenely step into our taxi. I just can’t see it happening… Remember the blonde bride in Four Weddings? Drunkenly hugging all her guests and crying 'I love you' - I'm her.

TR has just stumbled into my place from his Stag do in Ibiza ... something is living in his barnet and I’m not sure he has been to sleep at all but I am glad he had fun and got back in one piece. We've known each other since we were 15 so I know all of his best mates very well …that however doesn't make any difference when it's a Stag! They stole his clothes and in fact all the contents of his bag including the note I sneaked in there and made him wear some ridiculous items of clothing - I’m not sure anyone slept all weekend. I really want to ask him to help me find some paper for the invites but I may leave that a few days until he is back to his normal self.

I have also arranged a tasting next month, to which we're taking the Mums. We're having Bangers and Mash on New Year Eve... Eat your heart out Kate Winslet!

So Now It's Time...

I don’t think I’ve felt quite this excited since I got married and I’m sure I slept better in the week prior to that (ok perhaps there was the odd pill) than I have done this.

After a long long waiting game we finally completed on our first house this Friday.

So it’s so long shoe box and hello white picket fence (in London, I know!). On the lack of sleep front, I’m not exaggerating – I woke up yesterday morning with the sparrows so convinced that I’d ordered our Dormy Footsool in inches as opposed to centimetres that I had to get up and get out a tape measure at 3.45am to check!

Thankfully I hadn’t because we’ve bought a small three bed cottage, not a mansion and as good value as Dormy is, 60 x 90 inches would be an expensive disaster.

After five years without much of one, I have cleared and chucked out like never before (much to the accountant’s chagrin – he’s a hoarder), packed everything else, bought Farrow & Ball out of Dimity (we’ve decided the walls need a fresh coat) and literally just received my smart grey (to match my Nordic interiors) Gee Brothers correspondence cards.

It’s been well worth the wait but I think you could say I’m ready now...

A Bit of 'Me' Time

School’s back. My house looks like a busload of people have passed through it leaving sticky fingers marks and the odd cut up piece of paper (I mean, ‘art’.)

I can’t help but think that for mums, summer holidays provide the most extreme of mothering activities.

For weeks I have kept the three cherubs nutritiously rich and academically challenged (well not quite everyday).

I feel that at the end of the holidays there should be some sort of reward...even a sticker for surviving the rollercoaster. The house seems very quiet and a bit empty.

This week was my anniversary and I was surprised (very very surprised) to find that I had been booked into Brian Maule in Glagow, VIP tickets for Ricky Gervais and overnight in Hotel du Vin - this totally beats the usual flowers (yes I accept its the thought that counts!).

And in my room I found a fantastic tissue-wrapped (oh, I do love a bit of tissue) Prada L’eau Ambree. It’s my new favourite.

At the end of my escape to Glasgow I can’t put a value on how great it is to spend time with your hubby without the kids and just take time to remember the nice things about being married. I highly recommend it. Special thanks to Granny for holding the fort.

Travelcalm (The Terror of Travelling with Tots)

I’ve just noticed that more and more of my friends are holidaying in England this year. They vehemently claim that it’s all part of their new sense of carbon responsibility & linked to exchange rates etc. However, I’ve realised that the vast majority of them are all parents of small, shouty infants. The truth? Basically they’re petrified about travelling on a plane for a ‘holiday’ with their wriggling mini-beasts & being stuck in a hotel room with sleepless tots.

Last year, we had a heavenly holiday with Tots 2 France. So clever: everything is set up for babies and toddlers (half-covered, supersafe pool, great kids room, CBeebies, cots, sterilisers, stairgates). Other friends swear by Scott Dunn (nannies included) or you can borrow a holiday nanny.

But often it’s not the holiday that’s the problem, it’s just getting there. It is a truth universally acknowledged that flying with toddlers will be exhausting (you’re guaranteed to need a holiday after it). Which, of course is all very well on the way there as you should get a rest once you arrive, but it’s definitely no fun on the way back.

I can certainly personally testify to the challenges of travelling with mini high-flyers. My husband’s job means that we need to travel frequently with our little ones (one 3 year old ‘threenager’ toddler with attitude and one crawling, wriggly 10 month old). The only way to survive is to a) be prepared and b) bring presents.

I always carry a pashmina. It’s the supermodel’s wise and wonderful top tip & those skinnier and richer than me actually are very, very sensible. It’s soft and light. It’s a blanket, a pillow and a wrap for you or for the baby (the aeroplane to Tallinn is always at Caribbean temperatures which means it’s a shock to go out into the snow at the other end). I’ve bought lots from Mypashmina - ethical and beautiful.

We never go without our bag. It looks good and has the most amazing tardis-like properties. It’s packed full of brilliant pockets and fits tonnes of odds and sods in it. And the genius thing is that my husband likes carrying it. (It’s Brad Pitt’s changing bag of choice and I think he’s slightly swayed by that… there are just so many similarities between him and Brad you see). Once we took the bag but with insufficient nappies in it. That was the worst. Russian poo-lette at fifty thousand feet is not a game anyone wants to play….

The other thing I always, always do is pack some presents. This is a gold-plated, ten star tip for any mum of toddlers. Wrap little presents. They can be tiny and normal things: a box of raisins, a carton of juice, some crayons, a little notepad, a small toy, a comic, a new book. Last time we flew to France, I had some spare leftover party-bag fillers from Kate Middleton’s family’s shop Party Pieces and they did the trick.

The wrapping magically transforms them into something exciting and special to be treasured. You can use them as a bribe (‘if you stop whining, you can have your next present’) and the opening takes a precious few happy minutes. Every time we go away I’m there the night before frantically wrapping. My husband always mutters ‘it’s late, I’m tired, we don’t need to do that really do we?’ and the next day on the flight or in the car he is eating humble-pie.

And, naturally, it’s not just about presents for the kids. I think I deserve a little something as a reward at the end of it all… The shop and collect service at Heathrow is quite a find…

Bright Eyes

I am forever bemused that trends come full circle – and now I’m getting older I’m scarily seeing that happen within my lifetime. I have yet to utter the words ‘In my day we wore it like that’ but I’m sure I’m not far away. I still slightly cringe when I put my leggings on and remember wearing them with the huge slouch socks and stripey oversized t-shirts in the 80s…oh wait, that is totally fashionable now!

Rather embarrassingly I can confess that my 90s makeup must-have was blue mascara. In fact for a good few months I don’t think I left the house without it – and really did believe I was the height of trendy. Until very recently I used to look back on my teenage obsession and cringe at the thought of blue mascara being my beauty favourite. Why would such an unnatural colour for lashes ever look good?

However, I have to now admit to coming full circle on that (um, like the leggings!). Coloured mascara is back…and I assure you it’s a key trend this season. I think it certainly should be used with care - those with very fair lashes should use a brown mascara first and then tip with a coloured mascara as full purple lashes on very fair skin could look like bruising if you’re not careful – but I it’s definitely something you’ll see more and more of as people start altering their makeup look for the Autumn.

I have quite naturally dark lashes and so coloured mascara only shows on the tips of the lashes – which can be a really eye-catching effect (excuse the pun!). I’ve been using the Estee Lauder Sumptuous Mascara in ‘Garnet’. It’s a deep purple and looks great with a contrasting eyeliner shade like an emerald green or navy blue. I also love the ‘Emerald’ shade which works really well with my green eyes (if I do say so myself). All 5 of the limited edition shades are named after gems – which instantly makes me want to collect them!

And I love that Lauder have produced the range in the Sumptuous mascara as you get the stunning colour effect and great volume too. Whereas my cheap blue mascara in the 90s used to give a hint of colour but end up smudging through the day, this one gives a much richer colour – and lasts all day.

Is it something you would wear all day? I guess it depends on where you’re going. In my office which is full of complete makeup junkies absolutely anything goes with makeup. Especially with the MAC office just upstairs.

Personally I’m quite taken with these new shades and prefer to stick with my normal makeup look in the day and then make a statement with these new colours when I go out. See for yourself I guess, but get them quick as they’re only limited edition!

Grilled Salmon Fillet with Crushed Peas and Tarragon

Serves 4

Prep time - approx 45 mins

Needless to say, wild salmon is best for this seasonal dish.

Ingredients

4 x 180g (approx) Salmon Fillets
A Little Oil for Brushing
150g Shelled Fresh Peas
2tsp Caster Sugar
Salt and Freshly Ground Black Pepper
Butter
3 Shallots
120ml Double Cream
1tbsp Chopped Fresh Tarragon Leaves

Bring a pan of salted water to the boil and then add the peas and the sugar. Cook until tender (approx 10 mins) and then drain.

Peel and finely chop the shallots and then cook them for a few minutes in some melted butter over a low heat.

Roughly chop the peas either by hand or in a food processor and then add them to the shallots with the cream and tarragon. Season this mixture and simmer it until it becomes nice and thick.

In the meantime, heat a griddle pan or a frying pan and make sure it is lightly oiled. Season the salmon and cook for about 3 mins each side. They should still be a little raw just in the middle.

Spoon the pea mixture onto warmed plates and lay the salmon on top.

Not So Easy...

As I write this I’m stuck in Malaga airport. Unamused. Yes, as I always say to the accountant, you get what you pay for in this world and the £30 I saved booking EasyJet over BA has long since been spent.

To explain, earlier this week - in dire need of some sun (the serious stuff) - I headed off to join a girlfriend in Spain for some R&R, a few of good books, lots of gazpacho, copious amounts of rose and general setting-the-world-to-rights.

The girlfriend who kindly had me to stay (and I’m sure she won’t mind me remarking) isn’t desperately partial to quiet (you wouldn’t want to watch the X Factor / the Apprentice etc with her) but this trip she surprised me and I ploughed through my book list like never before.

Sent to me by a kind client, How Luxury Lost Its Lustre, is a fascinating account of the origins of luxury, how brands such as Hermes have protected themselves from the masses, the phenomenon of the IT bag, the counterfeit trade (that accounts for over $600m dollars of sales a year and makes young children its slaves) and where luxury sits today, and it makes a fascinating read for those even vaguely interested in any of the above.

Following this was an unremarkable book on the phenomenon of Twitter and following that, a bit of trash – or should I say, a real treat – the kind of read I rarely have time for.

Hedge Fund Wives is, as the author puts it, a cautionary tale, but it’s also juicy, flash and a real page turner; so much so that I’ve resorted to writing my blog whilst I sit here and wait so that I can save the last seventy pages for the flight (that I hasten to add, I’m dreading and during which I desperately need something to pass the time)....

If I ever get on it that is. It was supposed to leave at 5pm, it’s now 10pm and our ‘estimated’ departure has just been pushed back for the fourth time....

Tempted by a lovely caramel colour Longchamp Legende bag in duty free (the best that Malaga airport had to offer apart from Serano Ham and a tacky looking souvenir or two) I decided to save myself the five hundred Euro price tag and buy myself into the lounge instead where after you’ve paid your entry, the G&Ts are included and you’re a good walk away from any temptation to spend.

So here I am after a lovely a few days (EasyJet doesn’t make things easy – they know how to ruin a holiday), three celeb weeklies and numerous G&Ts down, and desperately hoping that too much gin doesn’t mean I pass out on the plane before I’ve finished my bookkk....

Thigh High

I seem to have woken up every morning over the last two weeks and had a serious falling out with my wardrobe - I am just so over my summer clothes!

Friday night was spent manically packing up the house for the big move this week (eek!) and being ruthless in the clothes department with what I need to keep and ditch. My theory is if you haven’t worn it for two years then it’s time for it to find a new home. One black bag for the charity shop later and my wardrobe was looking a bit sorry for itself...

And there was only one way to make it feel better: Shopping! So, Saturday afternoon was spent creating my capsule wardrobe for A/W 2009.

However, sadly moving house also means shopping this season is a little bit more conservative so I’m thanking the great British high street for coming up trumps with some winning pieces.

At a recent Net-a-Porter event Natalie Massanet told us that this season was all about the thigh high boot. My first thought? Awesome! But it quickly changed to how? At my height!

But after a bit of persuasion from the queen of fashion on how to wear this trend, I began to come round to the idea. Plus Pretty Women is one of my all time fave films so if there was ever an opportunity to recreate Vivian's (Julia Roberts) style, this season is it.

So, Chloe and Louboutin out of the budget I set on my quest to find this season's must-have and these Britany over the knee boots at Topshop are just the trick! The platform at the front is perfect for those, who like me, are not winning in the height stakes and paired with some leggings (or treggings) gives an extra few inches to the legs.

A win-win situation!

Buzz Off

When I tell people I’ve just moved in by myself, I’m met with one of two reponses – a strange, pitying look or an excited exclamation, ‘You’re going to be like Carrie Bradshaw!’

There might be a glimmer of truth in their last assumption, only in so much as I will probably be using my oven for storage – living by oneself in London affords only a shoebox, unless you’re an oil heiress or have decided to move to the outer echelons of suburbia.

Living with others (as years of student living has taught me) doesn’t just mean living with the three flatmates you’ve chosen...

No, all too often, it can also mean sharing your abode with slugs, mould, and morally dubious boyfriends/random men (I once slinked into the kitchen in very short shorts only to find a very grubby looking gentleman tucking into my Weetabix, having stayed the night with one of my housemates).

After a weekend of lugging all manner of furniture up the teeny tiny staircase (thank goodness for my very helpful family and whoever invented flat pack), I sat down on my new cream sofa, propped my legs up on this little guy, and, glass of Pinot Grigio in hand, popped in my Breakfast at Tiffany’s DVD (Holly Golightly always makes me feel like my place is tidy in comparison).

‘No strange men, no creatures growing in the fridge, no loud music, bliss!’ I thought smugly.

But as with most things in my life, my first night at my new flat was not to be without drama, as a loud buzzing signalled. Zzzzz. What was that? I turned off Holly Golightly and listened closer. Zzzzzz. Turns out I had a few unwanted visitors – 12, to be exact, all wearing what looked like tiny Sonia Rykiel mohair jumpers.

As on trend as they might have been, I did not want to be sharing my new pad with a family of grizzly wasps, so, on the warmest weekend of the year, the windows were shut and the entire flat engulfed in a cloud of insect repellent before you could say ‘Buzz off’. Urgh, Holly G would NEVER have had to deal with this.

But that didn’t stop ‘em. The little scamps were clearly Breakfast at Tiffany’s fans (and let’s face it, who can blame them?) as they found a way in somehow, be it through the air vents, or by chewing through the ancient window frames (do wasps have teeth?).

I demanded H stay with me – the poor thing could hardly muster up the energy to travel to the City at an ungodly hour after a night of being woken up by my squeals at two hour intervals and having to wield the fly swat on several occasions.

Of course, in true SheerLuxe style, I used my wasp infestation as an excuse to warrant several new purchases. A ginormous Citronella candle was a no-brainer. And then a pair of house slippers (but not just any old slippers – a girl’s always got to be prepared for visitors, so I’ll be lounging around in these shiny new Newbarks) – bare feet + repellent-stunned wasps hiding on the floor, stings still intact = not a good mix.

On the third day it was like a sauna (why oh why did the weatherman insist on bestowing a heatwave on London when I couldn’t open any of the windows), and all pretence of looking stylish was forgotten – I wish I could have captured the look of shock on H’s face when he met me at the door, make-up sweated (I mean glowed) away, hair fashioned into an unbecoming top knot, and wearing a very old pair of gym shorts and an off-white vest (that was white when I bought it back in ’99). I duly added Myla’s pretty camisole set to my wasp-induced wish list.

Thankfully, a nice man in overalls came round (who looked perplexed when I told him his jumpsuit was very ‘this season’) and evicted my rather troublesome flatmates. Truth is, now that they’re gone, I feel rather lonely. So I bought this stripey tunic in homage to the little beasties. Gosh, infestations are so expensive...

Staying Chic in Sin City

Whenever someone mentions going to Vegas I instantly think ‘tacky’: casinos with cheesy themes and even cheesier guests, ‘All You Can Eat Buffets’ (I know, very American) featuring tons of spandex-clad Texans, sequins everywhere.

But despite the fact that I prefer fashion forward ensembles to those that boast more glitter than a disco ball, the real fun Las Vegas offers to a Girl-About-Town is a fabulous weekend with her fabulous gal pals. And my recent trip there was no exception.

My friends and I have been fans of Vegas since we all turned 21 and became aware of how much more glamorous the clubs were there than any of the ones LA could possibly offer. Jet, Tao, and Rain are just a few of the great nightclubs that feature interesting décor and incredible DJs.

Planning an outfit for an evening out on The Strip is almost as fun as the night you’ll have wearing it. Las Vegas is all about night club chic, and while that may sound like an oxymoron there’s a certain art to a thoughtfully chosen clubbing ensemble.

For instance, black is always a brilliant bet when your fear is looking a bit too much like someone who actually belongs in Vegas. However, if you do choose a subtler colour then you’ll have to balance it with a more adventurous cut or fabric.

This dress from See by Chloé is great for someone who’s looking to go heavy on accessories and lighter on the statement-making.

While in Vegas, some people leave their inhibitions at home and go wild in fashion the department. If you’re philosophy is more ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ and are looking to don an outfit that will guarantee all eyes on you when strutting through Tryst’s red velvet doors, then a bold print or shiny fabric is a great way to grab some second (and third and fourth…) glances.

This one is a personal favourite, also by See by Chloe. The fabulous shine makes it a safe bet for getting noticed while the demure cut assures that you’ll maintain your style chic.

Another option is this frock from French Connection, which looks exactly like Balmain, but without the outrageous price tag.

Once you choose your dress, then all is left are the shoes! Because nothing is worse during the wee hours of the morning than uncomfortable heels (which you ‘ll probably end up taking off and carrying if you don’t have the stamina or are cursed with a very low pain threshold), spend your money on a nice pair that are worth the cost.

These Christian Louboutins are total classics, meaning that they’ll outlast your night out. And these are definitely not very common in the silver-platform clad Vegas Strip.

Even though ‘tacky’ and ‘Vegas’ usually go hand in hand, it doesn’t mean you have to degrade your taste and style just to fit in. Instead, see the setting as an opportunity to dare to wear something you wouldn’t usually at home.

Just be sure to keep in mind that a picture is worth a thousand words and try to avoid a choice that would warrant ‘tawdry’ being one of them.

Holiday Sprees

Wi-fi is officially bad for my financial health, as laptop + sun-lounger + time on my hands = time to shop. This week I’ve spent so much time online shopping at (you guessed it) my-wardrobe.com and, wait for it...ASOS and Net-a-Porter.

Andrew doesn't know about the latter two, but it won’t take long (Monday morning at the Nottingham office to be exact).

In fact Andrew will be fully aware of the level of my holiday online shopping when I rip open the boxes and tip the contents of my current bag into the new Anya Hindmarch tri-colour bag and slip my feet in these delicious Rupert Sandersons.

I was becoming infatuated and obsessed, so I finally gave in, and asked my PA Paula to order them (somehow getting Paula to order things makes me feel like I'm not spending money).

As well as a spot of e-shopping, I did also take in some of the local culture with a trip to the local market and lo and behold, it turned out to be a treasure trove of summer dresses and trinkets.

I went home with a strapless maxi dress and a strapless jumpsuit and I just love them. I did have to make a couple of adjustments to the shape and detail, but now they’re really a bespoke, limited-edition piece - well sort of, but they turned out to be the most worn items of the holiday.

However, as much as I love them, as with most holiday impulse purchases, I'm not sure how they'll translate in the UK. It's easier to experiment abroad, as a jumpsuit has not made it into my wardrobe before, but they both get the Jake seal of approval, so you never know - he is my very own personal fashion editor after all…

The Fun Kind of Wedmin...

So all is ticking along (in my head that is)... but no deposits laid down yet! I am thinking about those perfect Louboutins and Cox and Cox wedding matches, a Sara Berman going away coat or something from Browns?

It’s been decided: we’re going for a church wedding. TR wasn’t too keen at first but my powers of gentle persuasion worked! Then a marquee at the ‘rents. This sounds very traditional I guess but mix in a New Years Eve party, Christmas carols and a friend’s rock band and we think we have ourselves quite a do!

TR and I tried to find an old derelict ballroom somewhere with paint peeling off the walls (we wanted to line it with silver birch trees and candles), but we couldn’t find anything like that – or it was just far too expensive!

When you’re marrying an Art Director you need a blank canvas so that they can wow you with their creativity and spark and ‘dress the set’ with props.

With TR having worked on music videos, adverts and some films I am expecting a lot – it also helps that the best men (yes we have 2 - a growing trend) are also an Art Director and a Grip! I feel quite at ease that the candles / lights and foliage will arrive and make our vintage marquee looks romantic and beautiful.

The only problem is that until December 30th I imagine the marquee will be empty and we won’t have a clue what we may have / may not have / need / have hired in the way of lighting and decor. This will prove slightly stressful for me and Mum. Apparently in Art Director world everyone does things 'the day before' just imagine my mother’s face and her visions welcoming her guests into an empty tent in the garden! I can but nag...

I’ve actually started ordering some things - I know you should probably do the guest list before buying the table decorations but the list is already proving slightly problematic so I’ve put that on the back burner. Too many friends - how many should the parents have and what about all those 'other halves'? It’s OK to have them in the evening, right?

So I’ve busied myself instead with choosing some gorgeous rose petals and rose buds from The Last Detail to scatter in the marquee and on the tables. They have all arrived in a lovely box and will be stored along with my antique birdcage and pictures of Temperley dresses.

Meanwhile, TR is asking questions like, did the caterer ask about numbers? How many of us will there be and HOW much per head? I’d rather be browsing beautiful antique lace in Basia Zarzycka. Wish me luck on the numbers thing...

Fashion Uniforms

Gabriella graduated last year with a degree in Journalism and a craving for the London life.

She loves everything pink and is a compulsive shopper with more shoes than she can walk in and more beauty products than she will use in a lifetime, never going without her Max Factor Masterpiece Mascara.

They say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and I’m all for the not judging part but I do think that covers can tell you a lot about a book, and this same principle can be applied to people, more specifically people in the media industry.

I’ve been doing work experience for a few months now, I’ve been in fashion mags, women’s mags, travel mags and websites and if there is one thing I’ve noticed in the media industry, it’s that more often than not you can tell what people do from what they wear.

Exhibit A: The fashionistas. Not a day goes by without seeing the fashion girls in sky high heels - like these gladiators, tights, waist skirts and a sparkle-clad blouse. You don’t want to be seen in last season’s Marc Jacobs in front of this crowd!

Exhibit B: The writers. Definitely more of a relaxed crowd, these girls usually go for sweet tops - like this silk tunic by Leaves Of Grass - and jeggings or Love Story jeans, usually paired with flat footwear, like these Grey Jersey Pumps. If there’s one thing you can find in their desks it’s tasty treats and hot gossip, not to mention you will never be short of a cuppa.

Exhibit C: The Salespeople. The Advertising crew can often be recognised by their smart attire, both men and women wearing suits, looking sharp and ready for that all important meeting, Jaeger pencil skirts and ties at the ready.

Of course this isn’t always the case as there’s always someone who breaks the mould, and I don’t really think websites fit this system.

Here at SheerLuxe for example, fashion and comfort seem to merge with Anya Hindmarch bags and stylish blazers, combined with comfy J Brands and Converse. Somehow these girls manage to convey effortlessly chic and fashionably comfortable all at once…and I’m taking notes!

MOTB: The 1st Anniversary

Can you believe it – we’re about to celebrate the 1st anniversary of the engagement of daughter No 1.

I can’t believe that it’s been a year since we have organised the marquee, the caterer, THE DRESS, the wine and champagne, the band, flowers, cake – the list goes on and on and I don’t think we forgot anything on the day, which went so well I’d like to do it again!

One thing I’ve realised is that however much the MOTB might disagree at the time it’s worth listening to the bride and what she wants as that is what will make the day special. I was seriously worried about a couple of things but, hard though it is to admit, THE BRIDE WAS RIGHT and – for a change – not her mother!

Needless to say we have been to several weddings since and heard about others from friends who have been through the same things and everyone has been different.

The latest favourite venue at the moment seems to be Newick Park if you live around the Sussex area - they decided to specialise in weddings and I am told they do it really well. Certainly the photos of the amazing wisteria framing the bride and groom were very beautiful.

Another wedding was in a marquee in the garden of a friend’s house and the bride and groom were so organised, they had one set of friends prepare the canapés to go with the champagne on return from the church, and another set sort out the afternoon tea which included sandwiches, scones and cakes and begged or borrowed china cups, saucers and teapots and it created a lovely English tea party atmosphere.

Much later in the evening they had a hog roast, which everyone was ready for after building up an appetite on the dance floor.

Another wedding took place in a field with the guests being told that they could dress as they pleased as long as they turned up and the event had a truly Glastonbury feel about it.

All I know is that I cannot wait to do it all again...daughters 2,3 and 4 take note, however I would rather you waited until you are SURE you have found the right one because I am only prepared to do it once for each of you!

Painting & Pampering

I know I have said it plenty of times before but when working on a room or a whole house, first and foremost lighting and wall colours are key to an inviting enviroment and often I find not enough care and consideration is given to this when really it’s not that complicated.

Colour can have a significant effect on our feelings and wellbeing. Warm colours work well in kitchens, living and dining rooms, whereas cooler, restful colours do wonders in bedrooms and bathrooms, but at the end of the day it all comes down to personal taste.

If you have a keen eye for colour then you can do this yourself, if not I recommend hiring an interior designer or alternatively you could take yourself into Chelsea Harbour Paint Library where the girls are very knowledgeable and only too happy to help.

I enrolled on one of their paint courses last week, because even though I’ve been working with paints for a few years now, colour trends change and there’s still lots to learn. For example, apparently yellow is creeping back. When I read that in Elle Decoration I thought ‘No, not for me!’, but Chinese Emperor (from the Paint & Paper Library) really could be very striking with the correct furnishings (and hey, if it’s good enough for Farrow & Ball…)

The paints I use time and time again is from the Paint Library’s Architectural colours. It’s painting made easy with maximum effect. For example, you have Stone I to V - I for the ceiling, II for the cornices and 1V for the walls – which really brings definition into the walls.

If you’re working on a project it would be well worth a visit to Chelsea Harbour or the shop in Elystan Street to be inspired.

Moving on, I just have to mention the very generous gift from a friend last week - a gift box of all the new Diptyque body products! I have long been a fan of the candles and the body products are just as luxurious.The bath oil smells divine, as does the body lotion...how lucky am I?!

A Cook in the Baking

I’ve always been a real Nigella wannabe, hosting dinner parties at the drop of a hat and conjuring up exotic new dishes on a weekly basis. My soufflé might be tip top, my risotto award-winningly al denté and my sushi perfectly rolled, but even the most confident chef sometimes needs to go back to basics...

Which is why I decided to spend a day having my basic cookery skills whipped into shape at Tante Marie, one of the world’s top class cookery schools, which is tucked away down an unlikely looking and rather bumpy track on the outskirts of Woking.

But inside this rambling red brick building that looks more like a vicarage than an establishment that has trained chefs to work in Michelin-starred restaurants all over the world, is a hive of culinary activity.

Modular courses are themed with focuses such as Christmas cooking, seafood, Indian cookery and bread-making, or you can choose to go on a general entertaining day or two.

There are also ‘men only’ courses, which I hear are very popular (and which might make excellent Father’s Day or birthday gifts for the ‘reluctant’ chaps in your lives…).

Our day started with coffee and homemade muffins, and then we assembled in one of the main kitchens for a demonstration of the dishes we would be making by the super friendly and hugely enthusiastic teaching staff – no stern matronly-like teachers here.

There’s a good balance of demonstration and hands-on cooking, and before long it was time to get cracking. First up – bread-making. I’ve always been nervous of bread dough – in the past I seem to have managed to create a huge mess of sticky surfaces without much to show for it – but they had me kneading and stretching like a pro within seconds, and I took home two loaves packed with different ingredients to flavour them (rosemary and roasted garlic and black olive and sun-dried tomatoes, if you were wondering; the latter is deliciously pizza-esque).

Then we made our lunch – crisp breadcrumb-covered herby skewers of chicken and prawns, with a peanutty Indonesian salad called Gado Gado – a new discovery for me and one that I’ll definitely be recreating at home. This was all served with a homemade chilli jam which I’m planning on making a big batch of to go with cheese – tangy and a bit hot, it would be great at barbecues, with cold cuts – almost anything that needs spicing up a bit…

After lunch (washed down with wine, of course), we made a quick dash back into the kitchen to check on the rising of our loaves and bake them, and knock up a batch of carrot cake muffins with cream cheese icing.

There was just time for a quick tour of the building’s other kitchens, where people on the longer courses were doing impressive looking things with choux pastry, and all too soon it was time to go home, laden down with the fruits of our labour.

Walking through the door that night with two boxes of muffins, two loaves of bread and a big tub of chilli jam made me very popular indeed, I can tell you…

Give Me a Ring

If I win the lottery this weekend I’m going straight to Nigel Milne. I blame my friend for starting this obsession, after she recommended I visit the site, as I was looking for some beautiful earrings to wear to a wedding.

It’s a little more than I’d like to normally spend on myself but I rapidly starting eyeing up a birthday list…. (and picking out future engagement rings! I don’t care who I marry if I have one of these gems!).

After being distracted by diamond rings for many hours, I found THE earrings: the Blue Topaz Carnival. Sigh.

Along with Nigel Milne’s own dazzling designs, the site also stocks some other seriously stylish designers. I love Marco Bicego’s collection and have totally fallen in love with his Blue Topaz Confetti Earrings. Pure Heaven.

Hurry up birthday and hurry up lucky lottery numbers- I’m dreaming of diamonds!

Having My Cake & Eating It

With just 6 or so weeks of pregnancy left, I tipped the scales this morning at babblecoughsplutterahem. What do you mean you didn't catch that? Not my problem. Pay more attention next time. Anyway, following this discovery, I have made an executive decision. I am no longer going to weigh myself. Until, say, next week.

It’s not that I'm a particularly selfish, vain mummy, willing to enter into the dark (and frankly terrifying) world of pregorexia - I've got no issue with gaining weight for the benefit of a healthy baby - but I do have an issue with the fact that I am going to have to lose it again.

‘What's the hurry?’ I hear you say. I'll tell you what the hurry is - The Outnet. Its launch, during the course of this pregnancy, has been a dangerous thing, making it all too easy to buy gorgeous and relatively inexpensive pieces that I'll wear ‘after I have the baby’. The question is, when exactly?

Even if I could put my feelings about being heavier to one side, I can't possibly be expected to do the same about the prospect of wearing my Zimmerman butterfly dress - and while I may not need to shed pounds to fit into my new Choos, I’ll be damned if I’m going to wear them with less than lean legs.

But, having been through it twice before, I know all too well that cake is a vital component in the postnatal phase. Which is one of those life (well, my life anyway) equations that never fails to baffle me:

Newborn baby = happiness
Being svelte enough to wear gorgeous clothes = happiness
Eating cake = happiness
Yet newborn baby + eating cake ≠ being svelte. No wonder new mums have mood swings. Hmph.
And there’s everyone else blaming it on the hormones.

So I’m understandably excited about my latest book purchase, Red Velvet & Chocolate Heartache - not only has Harry Eastwood devised ways of making luscious cakes using rice or spelt flour as a substitute for wheat (never my friend) but she’s also replaced butter and other conventional ingredients with vegetables, which add all the texture and moisture that a great cake needs and take away all of the fat content and calories that it doesn’t.

She also advises avoiding blowouts by cutting the cake into slices and freezing several portions: these cakes taste just as good defrosted as fresh from the oven, which is lucky, since I gather that life with 2 toddlers and a newborn may not leave me a whole lot of time for baking. But for the next six weeks at least, those Outnet purchases can stay, swing tags and all, on the hangers while I swathe the bulk created by my little bundle of joy in my Posh Pinny. and whip up smaller parcels of happiness.

So Long Summer Holiday...

Our summer holiday this year is a.k.a going to the dentist (we both need so much work that I can’t even bear to think about it – our own fault, we hadn’t been for ages but boy do they know how to leave you feeling like you’ve been robbed), buying a house and a short break to my family’s little house near Padstow in Cornwall.

The latter shouldn’t really come under the summer holiday ‘umbrella’ (oh the irony) either though. Our four days in Cornwall was as wet and windy as ever.

A girlfriend with a lovely house near ours told me at a supper party last night that it’s always hot for her – she headed down this morning and apparently the sun is shining. Some people have all the luck.

Nope, our four days were wet, wet and wetter. We had a brief spell of sun and my mother said we should make the most of it more times than I could count. And even then all it meant was that the cardigan came off and the jeans were rolled up a notch.

Not long later and it was wet again. So we had wet walks, played scrabble and added to Rick Stein’s ever deepening pockets gorging on moules, frites and Rosé in the Cornish Arms – yet another abode he has taken over.

We drove back in the rain and needless to say the sun came out the very next day as we headed back to the office.

To soften the blow, awaiting my return was a grey blue (my curtain colour) linen valance I’d ordered from the OKA sale for the spare room. It didn't disappoint.

It’s going to be a long 5 week wait, I’ve given up trying to keep the flat tidy and right now I’m considering a cross off chart on our bedroom wall...