Posts Tagged ‘London’
London Dressing
Okay, I promised, here you go.
During my recent trip to London, while it was snowing here in Boston, Londoners were shedding their macs to enjoy the warm, sunny weather. Perhaps people were caught sartorially ill-prepared by this, because I have to say that, on the whole, I found the men in London to be far more stylish than the women. Frump much? And I thought Bostonians were bad. Nevertheless, a few noteworthy style trends emerged. I need to perfect my stealth street snap technique; unfortunately, I left with no photographic evidence. You’ll have to trust me. Continue Reading
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CommentAn April Fool Misses the Lion of March
Last week I took the opportunity for an impromptu weekend away in London. Staying in Mayfair, as I did the last time I was there, I didn’t stray too far afield, but this time I saw much more of the city than before, courtesy of my hotel room! What a view!
While I had every intention of blogging directly from London, well you know what they say. At least my handbasket is filled with yummy treats from Fortnum & Mason. I did plan three posts, and I will share them with you this week: The Savoy, Fashion and Shopping, and Street Walking. Highlights this go round certainly were discovering the American Bar at the Savoy, finding the best coffee shop ever, and having the best dim sum since I left San Francisco. (Are you sensing a pattern here?)
I did get to Church’s for my brogues, which means that I am one step closer to my cool Spring wardrobe. Perhaps one of the most satisfying things about this trip to London was that the weather was most wonderfully warm and sunny and I didn’t need my coat the entire time; it was snowing in Boston. While the lion was roaring at home, this April Fool was having a much needed getaway. London was wonderful, no joke about it.
Sarah Burton’s Brilliant Show
To say that I haven’t been paying much attention to Fashion Week and the Spring 2011 collections would be more than an understatement. My focus has been on trying to get a few choice pieces from the Fall 2010 collections into my closet and wishing for some true Fall weather in which to wear them, not what anyone might be wearing come Spring. However, when reports started to spread across the interwebs about Sarah Burton’s brilliant show for Alexander McQueen, I couldn’t help but pause, and gasp, and begin to dream.
Style.com described the overall vibe very well:
Where [McQueen's] narratives were often dark, discomfiting things, [Burton] opted for a nurturing atmosphere: a pagan, Earth-Mother-ly spirit. The woman in her show began as a plain white canvas and was steadily reclaimed by nature: wrapped in embroidered fronds, in leaves of black leather, in a raffia-trimmed brocade, in the wings of monarch butterflies or an enveloping mass of feathers. The craftsmanship was startling—that monarch butterfly dress, for instance, or a gown with a breastplate of gilded cornstalks and skirt of pheasant feathers, or another gown of pleated organza that looked like an unfolding sea anemone.
A few of my favorite quotes from The Moment’s Scorecard Alexander McQueen:
“Sarah Burton’s first women’s show for Alexander McQueen didn’t have the tortured genius of the namesake designer who committed suicide in February. But the clothes may have been better for it.” (All The Rage)
“A tour-de-force that channeled McQueen’s darkly surreal style, remodeling his signature elements into strange and beautiful confections that managed to be at the same time new and reassuringly familiar.” (Associated Press)
“Sarah Burton … revived the late designer’s challenging legacy with a brilliant first collection imbued with a pagan, bohemian spirit and featuring spectacular hand-crafted detail.” (The Daily Telegraph)
“What really struck a chord, alongside the requisite show pieces, was the softness of the collection. We were, after all, seeing McQueen through a woman’s eyes.” (ELLEuk.com)
“It’s intricate, elaborate, grandiose — McQueen would be proud.” (FabSugar)
“In an extraordinarily beautiful show, Burton succeeded in both being faithful to the late designer’s distinctive design ethos while taking the label into a new era.” (The Guardian)
“Faced with carrying on with what is arguably the most celebrated show of Paris Fashion Week, she came through with splendor (and excellent tailoring).” (Heard on the Runway)
“Inspired, this time, by the anatomy of the woman who chooses to wear it and by the flora and fauna of the natural world, it was both technically and artistically perfect.” (The Independent)
When I was in London several months ago and found my way into the Alexander McQueen boutique, I floated dreamily through the racks of beautiful things cursing the exchange rate and my pitiful bank balance. Not even a tank dress made its way home in my suitcase. With this new collection as inspiration, perhaps it’s time to start saving my pence so when Spring comes around again I can float home “in the wings of monarch butterflies or an enveloping mass of feathers.”
Nihilism, Pessimism, Cynicism – oh my!
I love language. And when someone strings together a bunch of wonderful words in a clever way then I bow down in covetous worship. Even when it’s a movie review. Like this one in the New York Times from A.O. Scott:
You may remember the quotation from high school English, about how life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. The observation is attributed to the playwright himself (“Shakespeare once said”), rather than to Macbeth, whose grim experience led him to such nihilism, but never mind. In context, it amounts to a perfectly superfluous statement of the obvious. This movie, after all, is a tale told by Mr. Allen, who is very far from an idiot and who has become the American cinema’s great champion of cosmic insignificance.
Not that there’s much sound and fury here, though there are a few bouts of yelling and screaming, and potentially tragic situations played with an unlikely and not unwelcome buoyancy. The metaphysical pessimism that constitutes Mr. Allen’s annual greeting-card message to the human race — just in case we needed reminding that our existence is meaningless — is served up in You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger with a wry shrug and an amusing flurry of coincidences, reversals and semi-surprises. There are hints of farce, droplets of melodrama, a few dangling loose ends and an overall mood of sloppy, tolerant cynicism.
Freida Pinto and Josh Brolin in “You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger.”
Metaphysical pessimism. Sloppy, tolerant cynicism. Has someone been reading my Facebook page? But I digress.
Mr. Scott suggests that the remedy for all of this Allen-esque nihilism lies within the movie itself:
… the whole message of “You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger” is that believing in some kind of nonsense is a natural way of coping with the howling void that surrounds us. (That was also the moral of Mr. Allen’s previous movie, “Whatever Works,” which didn’t.) The more ridiculous manifestations of faith — notably Helena’s spiritualism, which leads her into romance with the owner of an occult bookshop — are more charming and more persuasive than the earnest pursuits of love and success that drive most of the people in this overcrowded movie. For the most part, everyone struggles through, with at best mixed success. The audience included.
Nonsense works for me.
At Paul Smith, London
I was checking out the Sartorialist this morning hoping to find some inspiration for transitional dressing and I came across his reportage from the Paul Smith show in London. I have to admit I haven’t been following much of the runway shows – the Spring collections don’t inspire me the way that Fall does. Anyway, these caught my eye.
About these looks, the Sartorialist says: “The color combinations at this show were so inspiring. The rust top, purple belt, and grey pants were just about perfect.”
I couldn’t agree more. This color combination would be perfect for early Fall dressing in New England. Love, love, love! I would so wear these. Today. If only they were in my closet. Sigh.
London Photo Essay
Despite my intention to keep blogging from London, for a variety of reasons that never really happened, not the least of which was the lovely weather and everything to see and experience that was outside the club lounge where the computers were. So here are a few photos I snapped with my iPhone as I wandered around. No particular theme really, just images that caught my eye.
I wish, now, that I had ignored the haughty stares of the security guard at Alexander McQueen to take some photos of the gorgeous, gorgeous dresses I could never afford and will never see up close like that again. Same with Vivienne Westwood, although the ladies there were lovely and I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded if I had tried on a few dresses and would have taken the photos themselves.
First, of course, is me in front of Buckingham Palace. Just in case anyone was wondering whether I’d made the whole thing up. As we wandered toward Piccadilly, we encountered the guards leaving the guard barracks on their way to the Changing of the Guard. We’d been wandering for a long walk through Hyde Park, working up an appetite, so we abandoned that historic event for the comforts of The Wolseley – a restaurant/tea room that feels like a cross between the Palm Court at the Plaza in New York and Angelina’s in Paris. Yummy, yummy pastries and most excellent coffee.
On Saturday evening we had dinner at an amazing Indian restaurant recommended by the hotel Concierge, Amaya Bar & Grill. It truly was the best Indian food I’ve ever had, as I was assured I would find in London by absolutely everyone. This was a modern space with gorgeous art and food that was out of this world. Since this was my first trip to London, I was having a difficult time keeping my bearings, so I don’t know what neighborhood this was in exactly. We cabbed.
London cabs by the way are so amazing. I wanted to weep when I returned to Boston and had to cram into the back of one of our cabs.
I also love how London has all of these lovely little squares featuring restaurants and shops. Sunday found us wandering again and we stumbled upon Liberty of London in a spot filled with people and vibrant fun. I’ve never seen a building covered with flowers before – it was miraculous. We wandered in. I fell in love with a Jerome Dreyfuss bag that was alas as out of my budget as the gorgeous things I saw everywhere else. Note to self: next time you go to London be rich.
It was a short trip, so there wasn’t time for much else. A cab ride to the airport on Sunday took us through Chelsea, which I want to explore at length on my next visit. It seemed like my kind of neighborhood. One charming street that I seemed to keep finding myself on as I wandered in endless circles between Piccadilly and Regent Street was Albemarle Street. Lots of galleries there. This sign on a door caught my eye. I have no idea what goes on behind the door at Number 23.
Goodbye London! Next stop, Vieques.
London Blogging
You have to read that to the tune of London Calling . . .
At the invitation of a dear friend, I am spending the weekend on an impromptu visit to London. Believe it or not, this is my first time here and I was excited at the prospect of a hop across the pond. I spent most of my day yesterday traveling and, with the time difference, by the time I arrived in London it was nearly nine. We had dinner at a wonderful little French restaurant around the corner from our hotel in Mayfair and then had a cocktail in the hotel lounge. My perfect Manhattan was just that – perfect.
We were up early this morning and went for a walk in Hyde Park. Londoners are big runners and there were lots of people out in the park early. Bicycles too. As we came across Serpentine Pond, a girl in a pink shirt wearing pink roller skates was getting out of a pink car. It was a wonderful site to behold and I wondered what The Sartorialist might think. Alas, I was too embarrassed to ask her to pose, but I took this photo of the car:
As we walked around to the other side of the park, we came across the Queen Elizabeth Gates, which I found quite stunning.
The Queen Mother Gates – officially known as the ‘Queen Elizabeth Gate’ – lead into The Carriage Road in Hyde Park from Park Lane and are located to the rear of Apsley House at Hyde Park Corner.
The Queen Mother Gates where opened by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on 6 July 1993. They where built by money raised by a number of benefactors and public donors under the patronage of HRH Prince Michael of Kent to honour Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother.
The six gates, railings and lamps are made from forged stainless steel and bronze to designs by the noted metal artist / sculptor Giusseppe Lund. The design of the gates is meant to span the styles of the 20th Century with a formal and symetrical lower section which evolves into an organic freedom at the top.
This image came from the web:
The gate is unique because it is made of forged of stainless steel and bronze. All of the coloring for the gate came from heat and natural oxides instead of paint, relying on the characteristics of the metals to achieve the desired natural coloring.
I took this detail with my iPhone:
The day is beautiful – sunny and just the right temperature for wandering around. I wandered right into Alexander McQueen (sigh) and Vivienne Westwood. So many beautiful things that wanted to come home with me. Would that my wallet were fatter! I did get a tee at Vivienne Westwood and, if I’m lucky, I may end up with an early birthday gift of a pair of awesome buckled flats – imagine the offspring of her pirate boots and a pair of ballet slippers.
Speaking of ballet slippers, my Bloch ballet flats have been serving me well. The most comfortable shoes I’ve ever had on my feet and after an entire day of tramping all over town I feel I could be dancing.
While my friend was taking a meeting, I went into Harrod’s. Well, it’s London, you have to do that, right? I HATED it!!!!! Way too many people and all of the merchandise was stuff that you can find on Newbury Street. I got my claustrophobic self right out of there and walked back to the hotel.
I’m going to dive into a glass of wine and my new book. Tonight is dinner at a great Indian restaurant. Details and more photos tomorrow!
My name is Angela Eloise and I am a freelance writer. That sounds as if I am copping to an addiction. I am. In addition to writing this blog, I also write a column about social media and I am at work on a series of essays that I hope to see in print some day. Cloud of Chaos was born from my desire to dance with the absurdity of life, to create a space where I could write and share all of the gorgeous, fun, snarky deliciousness I find spinning around me every day. What does a spinning cloud of chaos have to do with writing? Everything, as it turns out.
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