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It’s not often you get to say you popped your cherry at the same time as your mother, and before you get too cheeky dear Reader – I’m talking about our Mulberry cherry.

Whilst my mother is quite The Savant when it comes to the finer things in life (proud moment for me and my sister there), she very surprisingly had not gotten acquainted with timeless British luxury.

A quick, relatively accidental trip to Selfridges, and we quite accidentally turned that around (in case my step-dad reads this – I promiise – cue the angel emoji).

My mother, ever so classic and monochrome, was immediately yet surprisingly drawn to this beautiful fiery red shoulder piece.

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And as the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I ended up as the happy owner of its smaller but just as fiery and just as red counterpart. If there is one tradition for the women of our family, it is to trust the wisdom of the Chinese and buy red wallets, as it is believed this colour brings prosperity (and anyone purchasing Mulberry will need the financial luck).

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Finally, there was a nice touch waiting at the bottom of our shopping bag.

Ever so British, ever so polite – the Mulberry edition:

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What about you dear Reader – what was your special cherry?

I’ve long thought I needed to have a proper audit of my closet, and get rid of some items I’ve been hogging for various reasons yet never actually made an effort to wear. Nevertheless, as I’ve considered this to be a daunting task and an emotionally challenging one, I’ve managed to expertly put off doing it. Until today.

As I will be moving flats in approximately February, I’ve been a bit nervous about the storage that I will have at my disposal. Currently, I am very spoiled with a huge closet, which is rather full. Yet in February, even if I will be lucky to find a sizeable closet again, I will have to share it with The Boy (and he’s got shit too).

So, after 2.5hours of shutting my emotions off and upping my rationality levels, I managed to fill three big bags with clothes I am finally ready to say bye to.

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From an ex-boyfriends windbreaker, passing by a dodgy 70s XXL flower coat, to a cardigan I spent £50 on yet never wore (I seriously deserve a slap for this one), these bags are full of items that hopefully will make someone else happy as I will be donating these to a charity shop.

So this goes out to anyone who’s also been putting this task off – go raid your closet! It’s hard to say bye to certain items, but this blonde cheered herself up with the thought that it also means there’s more space for new clothes (hellooo January sales).

June ‘16 was a crazy month as it involved travelling somewhere every single weekend. Contrary to my credit card, I’m not complaining (ehhhhh).

On one of those trips, I found myself in Stockholm for two of my very good friends’ wedding.

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Swooooon

I will let you imagine all of the tears, wine and dancing involved (life tip: never not see your friends for 5 consecutive years, and then observe them walking down the isle; no mascara stands that).

Being a master time planner, I also made sure I could squeeze in some shopping in the 48hrs spent there, as anyone who knows me knows I’m obsessed with the Swedes and their street style. I mean I could sit down in a coffee shop, listen to music and people watch for hooours (seriously).

The only promise I made myself was to not enter any shop I had access to in London, which I was semi-successful at keeping (why look at the glass half-empty if you could look at it half-full, right?).

Here’s what I picked up & currently baptise as a the Swedish swag section of my closet:

  1. A sheer white top from Bik Bok (or what your conservative uncle Joe may call a slutty top). Whilst this certainly doesn’t fall under my work wear category, it is the perfect top for summer ’16 (shout out to Drake) and I bought this with my upcoming trip to LA in mind.
  2. An airy white jumper from Bik Bok (or how to be one of those people that spends a good part of the year missing summertime and then voluntarily wears knitwear). With its sheerness and floatiness, this jumper has easily become my favourite white item I desperately try not to pour my coffee onto (legit life problem on any given day I madly decide to wear anything white despite previous questionable success rates at keeping things white).5
  3. An oversized stripy dress from MTWTFSS Weekday (or what your boyfriend may consider a pyjama). Much like my mother, I have an incurable illness when it comes to stripes and I deliberately choose to embrace it rather than seek any medical care. Honestly though – can we talk about how this garment allows you to ooze kewlness whilst basically chilling out in the cosiest dress there is? Bingo. Ya girl is a comfortable bish.
  4. A salmon pink bomber jacket from Monki (or how to pretend to be a thug and embrace your not so discreet love of pink). I’ve wanted a bomber jacket for so long. SO LONG! Yet each time I tried one on, I thought I looked like a fat bear (life issues, I tell you). Whilst Monki most definitely falls under the category of shops I promised myself to stay away from, I most happily obliged to follow my friend who needed to pick a few things up from there. The main reason I love this jacket is because L picked it for me, telling me you’re a bomber jacket kind of girl and that the colour would be perfect for me. I still feel like a fat bear wearing it, but at least a very style conscious fat bear (and how many of them do we see around, huh?)6

What about you dear reader? Any summer swag you wanna talk about?

Whilst 93% of my closet is full of clothes with no particular background stories, there are a few items that have the ability to draw a wide smirk across my face and take me for a temporary trip down memory lane.

Here’s a story about one of them.

When in New York in September 2013, I had exactly one pair of old jeans with me. The City, as always, was experiencing an Indian summer and I mainly lived in shorts. I did not think I would be wearing my jeans much, until a faithful Tuesday when my hot Australian hostel roommate invited me to bike through Central Park (and apparently take me out on a date, but that took me a lot longer to figure out). Cue 20 minutes into our urban cycling (as well as constant car dodging), and my darling pair of skinnies mercilessly ripped right by my crotch. By the time I got off my bike, I had sadly reached an unsalvageable territory.

The following day I undertook a pilgrimage to the local H&M to find a new pair of trademark Laura jeans (or, y’know, your average pair of save-your-life inexpensive black skinny jeans), and $30 later I was the proud owner of vaguely greyish trousers with too many zippers (I consider this purchase a desperate action).

That same night, I was invited out for drinks with random people I had never met in my life before, but who have since become very good friends of mine (bless the age of facebook and friends of friends of friends).

Long story short; the cocktails we had were lethal and my new friend, busy risking a DUI, was dropping all of us off at our respective addresses. And that is when I parted ways with my brand new, unworn jeans, merely a few hours after having acquired them as I gracefully forgot them at the back of my friend’s car.

At the time, it didn’t seem like much of a problem as I had plans to meet my new compadres the following night. Nevertheless, as life tends to be funny like that, roles were reversed the next evening and it was my previously semi-responsible friend who had to be put on a taxi back home, as he was in no shape to drive his car.

During my inhumanly early flight to San Francisco the following morning, I accepted the fact that I would never see those jeans again and would have to part ways with another $30 in the next H&M I would stumble across.

A few days later, my NYC friend, who was alive again, surprisingly told me he was going to ship my jeans cross-country to his friend in SF, and as such I would get the chance to both recuperate my jeans and go for a drink with another Americano (isn’t he the best?).

Sadly, as I mentioned above, life’s funny like that and the jeans arrived after I had left the States.

Little did I know that the story between those average overzipped jeans and myself wasn’t over yet.

In April 2014, I planned a whirlwind weekend to Rome to meet up with one of my best friends (click here in case you’re curious!), and I was very unexpectedly reunited with my jeans; still in the same H&M plastic bag, receipt and all. And suddenly, Rome became New York in the haze of our wine glasses and pizzas.

To this day, these jeans fit me and I love those zip monsters despite them not even being my favourite pair. Hence the smirk on my face each time I wear them.

What about you, dear Reader? Own any clothing items with quirky stories?

Upon entering my bedroom for the first time, a recent flame of mine expressed in a sincere state of surprise and unexpectedness “wow – you have a lot of shoes” (all of this, of course, under a romantic wine haze).

Little did he know, that whilst yes, it may be arguable that my shoe collection is somewhat sizeable (and we’re currently only talking about those I have in my London home), he should’ve seen my how many handbags dominate my life.

See, the thing is – with shoes, I am currently fully satisfied. I believe I have all of my necessary basics – I mean we’ve got a fair representation of the sneakers, the ballerinas, the wedges & heels, the boots and those polite office shoes with a twist.

However, with handbags it’s a different story (it always is).

If we take a second to think about life (and handbags) in practical terms (aka the way my step-father chooses to live his life), I’m covered. There’s a bag to fit every situation, ranging from the day-to-day grind to evenings out on the town (as well as that bag you reaaally wanted, you love to own but are not sure where to actually wear it – looking at you, rusty coloured clutch!)

But – and there’s always a ‘but’ somewhere in the female logic – so many bags just catch my eye, flirt with me and taunt my mind! Remember when I obsessed over this bag?

So I suppose, all I (currently) want for Christmas autumn.. is the following:

  1. Whilst I find Victoria Beckham’s clothing line sartorially appealing, her bags have never caught my eye. That is until this fatal leopard print bucket bag popped up in my life. Credit card – run whilst you can!
  2. Mansur Gavriel is a relatively new discovery for me. Introduced to me by my lovely friend Anna, I have been obsessed with this tote bag since I laid my innocent blue eyes on it. Sleek yet making a powerful statement, this would be a perfect new office friend. Small problem – upon each restocking (which happens every seldom new moon), MG sells out within hours and I haven’t been fast enough so far.
  3. Currently, I use a large Longchamp shopper bag for my (proud moment here) daily trips to the gym. Nevertheless, in my ideal Laura world, I would add this smart and somewhat minimalistic Herschel duffle bag to my collection (which would match my beloved sneakers oh so well).

What about you, dear reader? Spill your beans – what are your lust-haves?

What better way to start off a sunny weekend, than with a purchase that might as well be categorised as theft (after a very enjoyable lie-in with hot mug of coffee, whilst catching up on Bloglovin of course).

Having always had a somewhat unhealthy love affair with white sneakers, I decided it was time to take matters into hand, stop ignoring the issue and deal with it pronto – yes, this blonde needed a new pair.

For the last ten years, I have been loyal to my Converse All Star hi top white canvas trainers. It has been a good, steady relationship, with its highs (all dem outfits looking straight out of a Swedish streetstyle blog), its lows (the sad moment you realise you need to part ways with your trainers because the holes have simply become unignorable), and its joyful reunions (that happy dance triggered by the purchase of a new pair – totally guilty).

Nevertheless, sometimes you yearn for something different. You want to break the system, kill the routine, and switch things up a little.

And that’s when my infatuation with white Nike AirForce 1 Mid’s began.

First, you innocently browse online and offline, and tell yourself browsing can’t hurt right? Then slowly, you start considering the pro’s and con’s of both your current pair of Converses, and the new, much shinier option. You carefully evaluate, without letting the panic settle in, as it is a big step to take. You start dreaming about those Nike’s. You secretly style outfits in your head with them, without actually owning a pair. And finally – when enough is enough – you decide you need to make it public, and take the plunge (crazy how a shoe situation can be just as dramatic as a Latin American telenovela).

I found it very hard to get my hands on a pair my size, as judging by the availabilities in the shops I visited, those Nike’s were predominantly designed for cool people with very big feet (cue the inevitable “I need a glass of wine” every time I left a shop disappointed).

But it seems that life is full of surprises and has a funny way of working out. Whilst out on a mission to buy everything else but those gorgeous walkable white leather dreams (pretty sure I left the house saying I need socks), I somehow ended up in Office, trying on these exact same trainers. Needless to say, I ended up with no socks but did purchase one pair of exquisite Nike AirForce 1 Mids.

Nike AirForce 1 Mid

Serious sneaker romance

Serious sneaker romance

And the best part? Junior size, baby.

Nike AirForce 1 MidWhoever says junior size, says junior price – I only paid £51.99, and need a second to just even think about my luck.

On another note – should we be worried that nowadays’ juniors have massive feet?

Just like most modern human beings with a healthy ego, I have interests and hobbies.

Reading? Yes. Cooking? At times. Competitive dog grooming? Er, whut?

I have long found fashion films fascinating; so much so that I even wrote my master’s degree dissertation about them (yeah, this blonde’s a smart one – cue the ninja emojis).

Now let’s be clear – I’m not speaking about visual lookbooks or fashun films that get screened in cinemas à la YSL (though, let’s be clear, I’m not hating on them).

I am speaking about those artsy fartsy, cinematographic, sometimes awkward/futuristic/humoristic videos that are randomly posted on youtube/vimeo/a brand’s homepage. Some feature unknown models, others famous actresses and models. Some are directed guerilla style, others have astronomical budgets for something that is ultimately 4 minutes long. Bref – there is a selection of them out there.

Following the above eulogy, it is no wonder that today I am writing about one of them.

When this short film by Younji Ku was featured on SHOWstudio’s website, I knew it had to be something spectacular. And my my, it is indeed.

The short film features Kate Moss (and her beautiful kitten eyes) during a shoot for Vogue Italia (2010) with the legendary Nick Knight.
The way the chosen soundtrack perfectly blends in with the video manipulation renders this piece utterly compelling, and though it features some nudity, it is in no way vulgar.

Kate, Nick and Younji – I salute you. Forever on repeat.

I write this whilst listening to very sensual music (no judging – it’s Monday, midnight & I should already be asleep) and pondering back on the item that has haunted me for weeks.

So whilst I very well may have planned to write about something completely different, on a completely different level, and remain one of those bloggers that doesn’t spam you with her personal thoughts on fashion week; well… Sorry (but then again, totally not sorraay). Things changed. Fashion week might well be done and dusted; street style blogs have notably calmed down; but there is this one bloody item that has been left stuck on my mind, on endless repeat; an item so wonderful yet difficult, that I cannot make my mind up whether it is something I need, or something I should forget about (just like bad boyfriends, you know?).

Let me illustrate.

Not quite the Michelangelo of fashion, but a pint on me if you know what this picture is. Or if you pretend to know, as I cannot draw.

This is exactly why I don’t draw.

Sorry for literally illustrating it (but then again… not sorry). Have you figured out which item I am talking about? You’ve seen it on Vogue online, you’ve seen it on Manrepeller, you’ve seen it on any street style bog that avidly posts pictures about Anna Dello Russo (because she committed Moschino murder, and I applaud her for that). Yes, bébé – I am talking about THAT Moschino bag.

Browsing on moschino.com

Browsing on moschino.com

My first thoughts upon seeing pictures from the Jeremy Scott AW14 Moschino show? Meh. My following thoughts about the collection upon coming across blog entries on my bloglovin feed? Meeeh.

Whilst most of the collection is pretty ballsy and very true to Jeremy Scott, I didn’t think much of it. I for sure remembered it, which marketing wise is amazing for Moschino (consider every other person that will remember it, and perhaps choose to purchase). But a few weeks ago, I didn’t think much of it.

Following my first impressions of that particular show, I went through a little internet pause. I was in Estonia, which is probably the most internet accessible country in Europe (if not the world; whadupp!), but ironically enough, I had no time to stay connected to my virtual life whilst catching up with a place I hadn’t been in so long. And all I could think about was all the cute kitten pictures I was missing out on (don’t judge, dear reader, you know you’re a victim too!), whether my work would email me or not, and THAT BAG. And I knew something was up (unfortunately, not pictures of cute kitten with Moschino bags).

Whilst most of the collection does not appeal to me in terms of me wanting to buy every single item, I am totally playing that bag around my mind. I know how I would wear it in formal as well as casual situations. I can picture how special it would be to me in a few years time. And I love the idea of how well it would marry my white converses.

But now, I am left with that annoying thought in my head. $865 is a pretty penny for a small red & yellow bag that makes me think about a Big Macs 24/7 (rendering Moschino a potentially harmful investment for my waistline). Sure, the newly hired fierce female in me considers it as a savvy investment (but then again, she considers maxing out her credit card at The Kooples as such too); but the annoying grown up, who tries to be responsible (and yadiyaa) is leaning towards keeping those dollars, and downloading 865 different pictures of that bag on my macbook instead.

What would you do, dear reader?

Ps. Remember the sensual music? Somehow “Spice Girls – Spice up your life” appeared on my playlist queue. Yeahh. What?

Walking around Amsterdam last weekend (I love going back there), it dawned on me – it’s one of those cities where 99% of the people surrounding you are ridiculously well dressed. Like they just fell out of bed into a pile of cool. I’m talking about the clothes, the accessories, the haircuts (this does not go out to the boys with gel combovers – sorry but not sorry, it’s a turnoff); bref, their overall image and how nonchalant they are about it.

And it got me thinking. I could say the same thing about Stockholm. And London. And Paris (well, partially). How come some cities are just that much more stylish (this word makes me cringe) than others? Despite the wide array of looks out there – some more universal than others – how can a city just look so… good (and I’m not talking about the architecture here)? No wonder all of the above-mentioned cities are a regular feature on my beloved street style blogs.

Whilst I have an unhealthy addiction to various magazines and fashion blogs, I mainly draw my inspiration from friends and street style (either when I’m lucky enough to travel somewhere, or just during my Sunday morning blog browsing), and over the years my personal style has been greatly affected by it. I may have gone through fashun phases (some bold, some regrettable, and some pure ridiculous), but some items have become staples I will always stay true to throughout my life (what a statement, coming from a twentysomething).

So without further ado, here are my Essentials (notice the capital E); the things I cannot live without, nor do I believe most people should live without.

With no particular order in the numbering, let me walk you through my reasoning.

1. A good leather jacket is always a wise investment. Perfect addition to both casual wear, as well as added on a nice dress when heading out, you just feel Danny Zuko cool (minus the butt chin). This particular jacket is by Selected.

2. A black coat. Effortless and works with everything; much like owning a little black dress, I believe women should have a little black coat. Well, maybe not that little, but you get my point. I hate boring, office-y pieces, and that’s exactly why I fell in love with this coat from Version Originale. It’s oversized and somewhat masculine, so of course when I saw it in Galeries Lafayette, I had to buy it.

3. A stripy Breton top. Actually anything with stripes gets a thumbs up from me. I once complained to a friend (and shopping champion) that I have a disease and purchase too many stripy items (I think it’s genetic, as my mother also loves stripes), upon which she made sure I wouldn’t buy any such things when out with her. A few irritated shopping trips later, I declared forfeit and told myself it’s idiotic to ignore a love affair that’s quite surely meant to be. I sincerely believe one cannot have too many stripes in their closet.

4. Black. Skinny. Jeans. Self-explanatory, really. They work with absolutely anything and shape your legs very nicely. It may sound bizarre, but I find it really hard to pull off jeans in any other colour. Life solution: only invest in dark skinny jeans.

5. Classic high-top Converses, in both black and white. I have always loved white sneakers, and once even had white brogues (dear brogues, I still mourn for you), but I crossed over to the dark side when I saw one of my Swedish friends (who’s style I always admire) wear black high-top Converses. Needless to say, the next day I bought a new pair shoes, and you can guess what they were. I wear both pairs with everything; ranging from office wear, pulling off a skinny jeans, white top and blazer combo, to nights out with dresses (my friend, once celebrating his birthday in a lavish club, awkwardly asked me to make sure I didn’t wear Converses but lady shoes – says a lot about me).

6. In terms of sunglasses, there can only be one – Ray-Ban’s. I started off with Aviator’s (back in my cool days) and have now adopted Wayfarer’s. My favourite pair is the oversized tortoiseshell, which I unfortunately lost during a surf trip, but I substituted them with foldable mirror Wayfarer’s (each time I unfold them and put them on, I feel like MacGyver).

7. I’m not very big on bracelets and necklaces. In fact, I overly rely on accessorizing through rings. Nevertheless, I do believe in a good golden watch – sleek but chic, Casio watches are always a wise idea.

8. Pearl earrings. Every girl’s friend.

9. Wearing lipstick is a rather new adventure for me, as I have been subconscious about my big lips and usually don’t wear a lot of make up. Yet last year, when browsing through the duty-free in Charles de Gaulle airport with friends, my friend (rat shout out, Lisa) made me try it on, and convinced me to buy it. To this day, I believe the Rouge Pur Couture by YSL was a life changing purchase (it’s essentially femininity on a stick, and for 25 odd euros it’s a bargain).

10. A statement handbag, that goes with everything. Now, friends of mine know I am a relatively fuss-free shopper, stocking up in H&M and Zara most of the time. However, when it comes to handbags, my credit card gets scared. To this day, the bag I am most proud of owning and feel super protective over is the white Louis Vuitton Neverfull MM. Amen.

11. Whilst I am no fan of fake nails and strange salon manicures, I do feel that bare nails can be a little sad sometimes. My main go-to colours are red and black (which unfortunately does not stop me experimenting with other colours that clearly do not suit me), as they easily suit anything you may wear.

Well, this has certainly been a materialistic post. What are your thoughts, dear reader – do we share the same style staples? If not, what are your go-to-items?

Now that the end of year celebration is behind us, I thought what better way to start 2014 than with a book review. Yes, I said book review. Fear not, dear reader, I won’t ramble on about Sartre or Camus (though “L’étranger” is a marvelous book!); instead, I decided to review a book that most fashion fans wanted to get their hands on last year.

Tadaaa! Alexa Chung's pink book!

Tadaaa! Alexa Chung’s pink IT book!

Now I have to ‘fess up – I wasn’t a huge Alexa Chung follower prior to this book. I knew she was a model and attended all the cool parties. If I saw a picture of her, I’d commend her for her style. But apart from that, nada.

I had the chance to get my hands on “It” on my way back from Scotland, and got rather excited to have such a pretty book as my travel companion. Its 192 pages offer readers both visual delight (with a vast collection of doodles and photographs), and random bits of stories.

“It” is most definitely not written like a biography, and I’m sure this may bother some people. I, however, am not one of those people. Once I finished the book I actually thought I had a pretty good idea about what Alexa was all about. She likes dinosaurs and she swears. She counts Wednesday Adams and Jane Birkin amongst her style influences, and listens to some pretty cool music. The pictures definitely helped me refine my idea about her, as it felt like you were given a mood board throughout the book.

One of my favourite bits was when she spoke about heartbreak, as it’s a topic I have spent thinking about for far too long in my life.

“Sometimes when I need answers I like to take my questions to Google. I have googled ‘how long does heartbreak last?’. The result more popular than that was ‘how long does heartburn last?’. This implies people suffer from heartburn more than they do heartbreak which is a good thing because heartbreak sucks way fucking more than acid reflux ever could.” (p.128)

Now try and tell me that’s not a wonderful way of looking at it.

All in all, “It” is one of those really beautiful books you want to keep on your awesome (and very public) bookshelf. Its pretty pictures lure you back every once in a while, for a little peek, and boom – back you are on the Alexa bandwagon. And what’s changed for me after reading this book? Well, it feels good to know that someone like her is actually just like you; a normal twentysomething girl (minus the having a better career than you part). And I now follow her on Instagram and Twitter, because… I’m actually interested in what she’s up to.

Well done, Alexa!

I liike

I liike

PS. each time I wrote the word ‘it’ in this blog entry, I felt like I was committing some sort of literary crime..