Little blog holiday

Dears and darlings...the blog is going on a little holiday as I am off to Brazil for 7 weeks! Yaaaai! Will come back with loads of stories and, hopefully, the much awaited (at least by me) blog's new look...

Me not liking

Talking to friends the other day I realized I have an irrational hatred of certain fashion things...They have been with me for a long time, and although I don’t mind them on other people, I can’t bear to wear them myself…Freud (that’s Sigmund, no Bella) might explain…

* Linen – since I was a child I just hate it. Plus, is there a more easily creasing material?
* Contrast stitching – it always makes me think “why did they have to ruin this item for me”
* Lipstick – maybe it comes from the times where I use to wear braces and have horrible zits (I know, not a good look), but although I happily wear other make-up, I just can’t wear lipstick.
* Polo necks – again it’s a long hate relationship…as a kid I used to hate anything “hanging” me and I still do. I am not one of those people who wear a scarf beautifully.

Am I the only one with a list of irrational hates?

Uncomfortable outfit day

*** DISCLAIMER – This is a highly unglamorous post… but sometimes you need to keep it real!

I’ve posted here in the past about the “bad outfit day”, when as soon as you leave the house you know you hate what you are wearing…

Today I am having a slightly different day, the “uncomfortable outfit day”.

It happens when you actually look ok, but then:

- Your shoes are killing your feet, even though you are wearing them with socks;
- Your jeans are quite low, and so is your underwear, so the cars and other cyclists following you on your way to work have a nice little surprise view;

- Your bangle hurt your arm when you type;
- And it looked cold in the morning, but it’s actually quite muggy so you have…(oh god, am I ready to confess this?)... a tinny underarm pizza. More like a mini-pizza, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, but you know it’s there.

So, there, I said it. I might look ok, but ok I ain’t feeling. Uncomfortable outfit day, please be over soon!

Of love and pronunciation

So the opening of the Shoreditch Festival was great, it didn't rain, the music was nice and I bought a great pair of earrings.

All was great until I got home and realized there had been a huge misunderstanding.

xxx

In the middle of the day I went in search of some festival food and came back all happy with a sausage sandwich I found at the POLISH stall.

ME - "Look guys, I got a POLISH meat sandwich. I am going back to my roots" (as I am ¼ Polish)

HUSBAND - "Really, you are eating that? Ok, whatever rocks your boat."

I thought it was a slightly weird response from him, since as far as I know he doesn't have anything against the Polish or any other nationalities.

Later on, at home, as we are talking about the great day we had, and I am saying how one of the highlights was my incredibly yummy sandwich, the husband says:

HUSBAND - "I actually cannot believe you ate PONY meat".

ME - "Excuse me? PONY as in cute little horses that every young girl dreams of having? (not me though, as I have always been scared of horses, even the cute little ones)

HUSBAND – “Yes, that’s what you ate, no?”

ME (HORRIFIED) – “Noooo, you crazy man. POLISH meat, not PONY meat”.

xxx

So there you have it…my man thinks I am capable of not only eating pony meat, but also bragging about it. Love is weird. And, it seems, my pronunciation is even weirder.



(Fancy some pony on the grill?)

In colour

I am the queen of muted but it hasn't always been like this. Before my love affair with black, white, grey and cream, I had a very colourful phase. In fact, just before coming to London, a whopping seven years ago, I was planning to dye my hair blue. And then bright pink. I was also a clubber and sometimes wore glitter make-up, but let's not dig that deep!

Sometimes I miss the more day-glo version of myself. Maybe that's why I recently bought neon-pink jelly shoes (that and the fact they were 1 pound!).

So it was very inspiring to stumble across Gala's blog, with her bright hair colours, beautiful tattoos, cute style and happy outtake on life. On days like today, when I feel a little blue (no pun intended, believe me!), it's nice to dive into someone else's pink world.

(Gala and her many colours...)

Cooooooooooooooooo

Regular readers and friends in general will know that I am not the biggest fan of pigeons, what with the hideous feathery things invading my balcony, having unprotected sex behind the chair and putting eggs on our flower bed (true stories and they happened twice, my friends, twice!).

But I couldn’t help but cooing (hihihi) when I saw the programme for the Shoreditch Festival, which happens every summer in our crazy, pigeon-filled but ultimately lovely neighbourhood.

The festival is actually pretty cool and last year we even watched a dog show! How Charlotte and Elizabeth Taylor!

(Click here for the full cuteness)

The kindness of strangers

Normally, nothing really fun comes out of my local grocery shop (besides yummy croissants for 35p). But yesterday I stopped by to get some plums and the cashier had half an arm full of beautiful black & silver Indian bracelets.

“Lovely bracelets”, I said.

“Do you want some?” she replied.

I ended up not having the courage to take some of her bracelets as they looked so nice together, but thought that her offering me was one of the sweetest things ever!

Afterwards, I remembered seeing a shop in Whitechapel, a traditional Bangladeshi area in east London, selling these kinds of bangles from every single colour under the sun, and for very little prices. I don’t remember the name of the shop, but there are several ones on Mile End Road, if anyone is interested. I am definitely going there soon so I can get an arm full of bracelets just so that I can start offering them to strangers!

Not-so-fair-y-tale

Last year there was no summer over in Londonland. Besides a sunny week in May.

Not wanting to add insult (a wardrobe full of new pieces she couldn’t wear) to injury (the gray and clouds and a bit of rain just to be irritating) the girl refrained from buying too many summer clothes.

2008 came and with it the perspective of another non-summer-summer. With sorrow in her heart, she bypassed the pretty and flowery summer collections and spent her hard-earned cash on another pair of boots and a kick-ass 60s hippie suede jacket.

She was resigned to lounging around in jeans waiting for the temperature to drop so she could wear her new purchases when, surprise surprise, summer decided it was about time to make an appearance.

And so a happy girl went around to get some little (but not too little for work) dresses and skirts, and maybe a few vests and who knows, perhaps even a pair of sandals.

What she forgot was that the shops were already full of autumn pieces and the last few remains of the summer sales (orange shiny dress on a size 4, anyone?).

And so she was back to wearing her jeans. Of course, being able to combine them with flip flops and a sleeveless top is enough to cheer up any tropical girl.

But still, Mr. Summer, have you ever heard of timing???


(Illustration by Abi Goy)

Inspiration

Sometimes an image just stops me in my tracks…this girl, captured by The Sartorialist, looks so strong and beautiful. I love that her style is classic, not necessarily trendy. And the way she rocks the super short hair…inspiring!

(PS: Thanks for the input on the blog changes...the makeover is on its way but it might take a bit of a while with my limited HTML knowledge and a little help from a friend!)

Middle age crisis

I have been thinking lately about this little pink blog of mine...
And the fact that, besides changing servers once and language also once, it hasn't changed much in other departments.
So I think it is time for a style makeover...I have a few ideas...and if my dear readers would like to contribute with their ideas, I will be a happy, happy bunny...

Here are my thoughts:

** It's time for the Barbie-pink to go. And maybe the little Barbie-girl illustration. Don't get me wrong, I still have a little Barbie-girl inside me, but she has always been more Nicole Ritchie than Paris Hilton.
** I am also thinking of making the blog bilingual. I used to write in Portuguese only, then switched to English, but now I think I could combine both languages. So, Brazilians, what do you think?
** The outfit posts issue...one of my favourite things in other blogs is when the girls have "what I wore today" kind of pictures...now, I don't think that's the direction I will end up going, but I was thinking of sharing some of my shopping finds here...problem is, my camera is pretty crap and I am pretty broke to get a new one right now...wondering if people mind if the quality of the pic is not that perfect...
** Wish lists and inspiration pictures...also wondering what you think of them...I have been mainly posting words in my blogger life, but maybe is time to be a bit more image-heavy?
Anyway, these are my ideas for the future...

(Time to go!!!)

Maaan

I have nothing against indie boys (for the uninitiated, those skinny 18 year old guys squeezed inside a pair of skinny jeans who are in an indie band with other skinny boys). I think they are sweet and stylish and I normally like the sounds they make (with their bands people, with their bands).

But I've never wanted to date indie boys, a fact that seems to be mutual.

For a start, I believe it is a power imbalance when you cannot fit in your man’s jeans, but he can happily borrow yours to wear as a baggy style. That is one evil twist on the whole boyfriend jeans thing…

Besides, I do like a man to look like a man, or at least like an older teenager. That’s why I was so pleased to see a fashion editorial featuring a man, not a boy, in the pages of the Telegraph magazine.


(Mind you, I would probably still not be able to squeeze into his trousers! But one can’t have everything…)

Freud explains

The other day my friend was showing me some stuff she bought her 1 year old daughter and I realized that not only I wanted every single piece for myself (on a slightly bigger size, of course!), but I would actually wear them outside my house…and it’s not that they were those freaky mini-me clothes, they were completely age appropriate for a 1 year old. Is there anything wrong with me?

(In my defence, one of the pieces was a purple and pink polka-dot rain jacket…or does this fact make it even worse?)

Holiday wisdom

Sorry for the disappearance…I was busy having a lovely holiday with great friends on board of an awesome boat on the beautiful Turkish coast (oh, I so miss it already)…which leads me effortlessly to the topic of this post: things I have learnt from the last time I spent time on board of an awesome boat on the beautiful Turkish coast (yes, I did the same trip 3 years ago and it is so insanely amazing that I will do it again as soon as possible).

** One bikini is not enough for a week, 3 or 4 for is perfect, more than that it just looks like you are trying way to hard, which doesn’t go with such a relaxed atmosphere.
** Intricate bikinis are a crappy idea and won’t see the light of sun. Who wants to have a tanning line running across the middle of your chest?
** It’s always good to have more than one flip-flop. If you loose yours, you won’t have to wear your Converses to avoid the scorching floor or sand.
** It’s also worth packing a pair of good walking sandals for those long hikes. Not that I really hike, mind you. But someone else always does and I am happy to lend my shoes to more active souls.
** Somehow really short things don’t look so tacky on the beach, so it’s a good opportunity to wear all those little dresses you bought forgetting you are 1.76 cm.
** I know the colour of the water is amazing and worth loads of shots, but people somehow look better in bikinis on black-and-white photos (or is it just me?)...

(I wanna go back to paradise...
can someone take me?)

Lol forever

It’s great that Karl is doing his bit to help avoid more accidents on the French roads by encouraging drivers to use the yellow vest if their cars break down…but I can’t help but think this is one of the funniest pictures I have ever seen!



"It’s yellow, it’s ugly and it doesn’t go with anything, but it can save your life", says the poster.

Dream job

What is the coolest thing someone can ask a girl like me? (Besides “would you marry me”, which I have already been asked, and “would you like 3 million dollars”, which I am still waiting for).

That is “would you help me find my wedding dress?”

And that is exactly what my beautiful friend D. asked me to do.

Now you can imagine my excitement!

The day after she popped the question I had already gone browsing mad and sent her a list of dozens of little dresses that could work (no meringue-like stuff for my friends).

And although this is a major challenge for someone that is only used to styling herself to varied degrees of success, it is made much easier by the fact that D. is gorgeous, has an amazing petit body and a honey colour that will look like a dream with white, ivory, cream or gold.

I shall keep you posted on the progress of my assignment.

Pressing questions about life’s most challenging task: buying a bikini (unless you are Gisele)

- You know those amazing mirrors that, combined with good lighting, make you look pretty and glowing and even a bit skinnier? If those exist, why furnish your fitting room with the exact opposite (those horrible enlarging mirrors that, combined with the brightest light available to mankind, make you look ugly and white and even a bit “oh my god I am pregnant with quintuplets”-like)?

- Are you going to shopping-hell if you get the size 14 bottom and mix it up with the size 12 top from a bikini set and hope the cashier won’t notice?

- And, please, how do you tell if a light coloured bikini (fully lined), is really not see-through? Do you have to wait until you are standing in front of 10 people on a boat? (Sadly, true story)

Talent, time and patience

If I could choose to have any talent in the world, I would like to be a painter. By far. I have this romantic idea of myself spending hours and hours among a few brushes, great colours and a blank canvas, while listening to loud music in my dirty overall (I think I saw this image in some film when I was little).

Unfortunately, even though I can draw a bit more than house + sun + clouds, my skills are still very limited and painting is a very frustrating activity for me.

So I just marvel at the talent of others.

My friend C. has just sent me a link to this amazing animation, made by graffiti artist Blu entirely on public walls. It must have taken him ages. And it is insanely good.



(One of Blu's amazing walls)

Sex and the City, the morning after

Last night was Sex and The City night! As planned, seven crazy ladies and I made our way to the movies. I will leave the film itself alone as to not spoil anybody’s fun, and will instead recall some funny moments of the night.

**** So somehow I was under the impression that the Barbican (a cool cultural centre here in London where we saw the film) was offering free Cosmopolitans before the film. I read the email they sent, and somehow mentally included the word “free” in there. The barman was not amused when I showed him the email asking for my free drink.

**** Talking about Cosmopolitans, imagine a cinema full of slightly drunk, over excited women…let’s just say they (well…we) applauded a lot, from when the trailers ended to the when signature tune of the series started playing.

**** Oh, and someone shouted “Nice bum Steeeve”. Truth be told, he does have a nice bum which should have been explored in more details during the series.

**** When we got to the bar I have previously researched (near the Barbican and supposed to close at 2AM, which is pretty late for London), it was empty and about to close. “But it said on your website that you closed at 2”, I cried to the manager. “So sorry love, only on Saturdays. I am actually really sorry as you girls are the cutest costumers I had all day”, said the bar manager.

And with that, eight girls cruised to the next bar with a little spring in their steps. The rest, my friends, is history.

Bellow: HOT, HOT, HOT. Carrie & Mr. Big on the pages of Vogue.

Sex and the city

Tickets bought for watching the film on Friday, me and another 7 crazy ladies, and hoping nobody spills the beans on the plot before I hit the cinema.

The plan is to watch the film, have lots of Cosmopolitans and, in my case, come to work the next day with a very un-Carrie-like hangover.

I do confess I am excited and unashamed of it. But then again, I can bore dinner party guests to death by talking about the merits of the series, with the help of my converted man.

So, in preparation for the film, here are my all-time favourite SATC quotes.

“My hair hurts”, Charlotte, the morning after the night before, with a very un-Charlotte-like hangover.

“I will wear whatever and blow whomever I want as long as I can breathe and kneel”, Samantha, being Samantha.

Detective: You Irish? Miranda: No, why? Detective: Coz you have beautiful red hair. Miranda: Well I guess anybody can be Irish with the right colourist. (Hot detective, does anyone remember??)

Carrie: So are you saying there's no way you'd go out with a guy who lived with his family? Samantha: Well... maybe Prince William.

Carrie: But... this is an outfit! When being asked to take off her shoes at a party (Oooh, I so empathize…skinny jeans with socks is not a good look)

(And how could we forget...Smith, we miss you!)

Shoe art

And you thought your shoes were crazy, Miuccia!

Brought to my attention by my lovely friend DD, the mad and amazing creations of Marloes ten Bhömer.

Love is...

On the sunniest and hottest Sunday in London...
And with a hangover that made even my hair hurt...
Spend 3 hours inside a dark pub watching not one, but two simultaneous football games...
Just because it is the final and your man is a crazy Chelsea fan.

The team could at least have had the decency of winning the match.

When I grow up, I wouldn't mind being Daphne

Many of you probably heard that Daphne Guinness - one of the most stylish women in the world and one of those very few consumers of Couture - was auctioning part of her wardrobe.

Now, things have to be put in perspective. I am normally shocked by the amount of stuff I end up with on my Spring cleanings (which, truth has to be said, only happens every five Springs...).

But oh, the sheer amount of stuff that came out of Daphne's closet (250 lots to be more precise). And the quality of it (a who is who in the top of the fashion food chain.)

I decided to go have a cheeky look at the auction on my lunch break yesterday. As a precaution, I didn't register to bid, especially as most of everything wouldn't fit anyway. But oh, the temptation! I initially thought that everything would go for at least 5 times the estimated price, and most of it did...

But while I was there some shoe lots went for much smaller fortunes, like 120, 150 pounds. They still would not fit, but it could be the beginning of my becoming a millionaire on Ebay career...

Oh well, next time...

(Sorry for the amount of "ohs"...they are necessary when talking about this kind of wardrobe...)

In the family...

I have recently discovered that my cousin Márcia has a blog. I knew she was an amazing photographer, but was blown away by her stuff. Her wedding pictures make me want to get married all over again and in Brazil. Maybe...baby? Huh, new wedding? By the beach?










(Pictures Márcia Charnizon)

Dark circles?

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From Belarus with love

I have to confess I don't know much about Belarusian fashion. And that the name of its capital, Minsk, only rings a bell because that's where Phoebe Buffay's boyfriend went to in one very old episode of Friends.
So I was pleasantly surprised to see some very cute looks from the Belarusian Fashion Week on fellow blog Slacker Chic. Loving the dusty colours on the first look bellow and proportions (ok ok, also the balloons) on the second. And wondering about the exchange rate…

Open letter to the British weather

(Un) Dear Weather,

Let me start by reminding you what a good girl I have been in the past few years.

I learnt how to wear scarves and woolly tights and polo necks even though they itch;
I made sure to talk about you every time I found myself in an elevator with a stranger;
I even got myself a hot pink umbrella and a trench coat and cute Topshop wellies.

So I was a bit disappointed when you decided to take our long lost friend the sun to the Bahamas last year and leave us here with that joke of a summer.
2007 came and went and I still didn’t wear half the cute sundresses I so lovingly and impulsively bought.

But hey, I thought, everyone is entitled to mess up once in a while and maybe you had more important things on your mind, like global warming and greenhouse gases and maybe even girlfriend problems as well.

So imagine my utter and complete shock when I found out today that you might not be sending us the sun this year again.I am trying very very hard to remain calm and not threaten our beautiful friendship.

But, helooo? Is it personal? What has Britain done to you to deserve this?
Did we call your mum a whore? Did we beat your team at cricket? Don’t you like Queen Elizabeth? What about Queen Westwood, for God’s sake?

Sincerely yours,

Guerreira

(P.S. This letter was edited after being posted as, on a second look, the original version did not make much sense. Blame it on the anger. Or the wine)

Help...anyone?

First there were my knitting attempts. On my defence, I have to say that I learnt by myself, with the help of the brilliant book Stitch and Bitch. And that, although I am left handed, I learnt how to knit as a right handed person (even though that was because I couldn’t figure out how adapt the instructions of the book and do everything the other way around, but don’t tell anyone so I can look all cool and skilled!).
So, anyways, knitting was fun, but I never quite managed to increase and decrease stitches and for that reason could only knit scarves.
After the 5th scarf, I got pretty bored.

For a while now I have been toying with the idea of getting a sewing machine to do a bit of customizing and, if my lack of coordination allows, even some clothes from scratch. Thing is, after researching the market, I realize that it all sounds like Greek to me…drop-in bobbins, free-arm, 1094857 stitches…heeeeelp!

If anyone out there has any recommendation, please! I don’t want to spend too much, was thinking around £100. But not sure of which brands are best and which features I should look for.

Any old advice will be much appreciated and paid back with my first-born (wonky skirt, that is).

The cabbie made Prada

Saturday night, we hop on a cab to go home after a great dinner party at our friend S’s house. With his great ability of getting into deep conversations with just about everyone, Gringowlindow-the-hubby starts chatting to the cab driver who, turns out, used to own a clothes factory on my street which made pieces for brands such as Jaeger and Nicole Farhi.
He told us that he had to close his factory when more and more of his clients moved their manufacturing elsewhere, more specifically the Far East.
It was surreal and funny to talk about the quality of garments and the beauty of a well-made coat with the cab driver.
But it was also interesting and sad to see the real impact of all the stuff we see on the news on someone’s life, especially as I had an enormous bag from Primark between my feet which I tried very hard to hide!
I guess moving production to cheaper countries is an inevitable step in this day and age for some brands to remain competitive, and I am guilty of enjoying the benefits of affordable clothes that fit the unequal equation of my love of style X my payslip.
Still, it broke my heart a little that a man who seemed to have such a love for clothes is now behind the wheel and not the sewing machine.

Fringe benefits

I love shopping (duh). But I rarely feel the need to brave crowds or run to shops to get me hands on so called “must-have items”.
So it was a total accident that I managed to buy a pink fringed dress from H&M which I later found out is pretty sought after. To be honest, I had seen the dress once and didn’t even buy. I initially thought they were a bit meagre on the fringe quantity, but later realized it was just enough, fringe-wise and went back for it. Now that I have it, though, I feel pretty smug, especially as I have been lusting over a dress like that since a D&G version a few years back (does anyone remember? I think Naomi wore in on the catwalk).

So I wore the dress at my birthday and it was a hit! Thing is, now it unleashed the I-want-all-things-with-fringes monster. Aren’t they fun? And they remind me of my mum's main airplane outfit, a fringed blue suede trouser suit (it was the 80s people...and she has the most amazing blue eyes and great figure so it looked pretty good...i swear!)

My incredibly stylish fellow bloggers seem to have jumped on the fringe wagon a while ago…here are some pieces I have been lusting over!

(Beautiful Agathe's boots)



(Rumi's darling bag)



(Miss Woo's great Tokyo find)

Crazy world...

I don’t know if it’s my coming birthday, or the fact that a Brazilian cousin, which I remember as an 8-year-old boy, is coming to visit London on his first European backpacking tour, but I have been slightly freaked out about the speed of time. And it was exactly about this that I was thinking on my way to the shop to buy milk when a boy, which could not have been more than 10, screamed to me: “Nice butt”. Ok, I was wearing velour pants, which do make my butt look cute. Buuuuut, a 10-year-old boy should not have noticed it! What do you do in a situation like that? Give him a lecture or ask for his number and keep it safe until he is of legal age and you are officially old? I ended up just ignoring him and feeling puzzled all day…

On a different note, there is definitely something wrong with your pulling power when the last two times you were blatantly chatted up were by a 10-year-old boy and by the Tesco’s cashier (who told me I smelt nice). I suspect I am not really reaching my potential target audience.

Random angry questions about the endless winter

When is it going to end? After spring?

Why does the wind sound so loud on the 16th floor (seriously, I am constantly woken up by a uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu, uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu sound which does not, I assure you, come from anything human)

Is it ok to wear a variation on the same themes (skinny jeans-boots-hoodie for day; black tights-little skirt-black sweater for night)? Every single miserable winter day?

Am I the only one thinking that snow in March in London is an enormous lack of respect?

Does mulled wine taste the same after Christmas? Or should we all start hitting the Pimms as an act of civil disobedience?