The Royal Wedding...

Hurrah…they’ve done it. William and Kate are now the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, all grown up and married-like.

The television has been on since eight this morning…I’m a sucker for Pomp and Ceremony, so there I sat with my little Union Flag, my cup of Tetley and my cucumber sandwiches (crusts off naturally). My favourite bit of a Royal “do” is frock watching…who’s stylish, who’s tried too hard, and who looks like they should fire their stylist. Unfortunately today it’s the Princesses Eugenie and Beatrice who fall into the latter category. Who ever stood in front of them and said they had made the right choice should be sent to the dog-house. Bless them, they obviously have Fashion Dysmorphia too, but they should also have honest friends and family members to guide them.

I thought Camilla looked lovely, as did the Mother of the Bride. I just can’t help but feel that the ceremony had a big elephant in the room… “you know who” who was absent. Still, the show must go on. Madge looked fabulous in yellow I thought, rocking the block colour theme of the season and Philip behaved himself.

(c)Sodacan

I was disappointed though by Samantha Cameron, hatless among a sea of wedding goers. Again, perhaps, a case of throwing David in the dog-house for forgetting Court etiquette.

But Kate looked amazing. I am SO glad that it was a McQueen dress…even if the great man himself wasn’t around to see it. Sarah Burton will now be the most courted designer in the land, and will no doubt see her career go from strength to strength. The Grace Kelly inspired frock deserves a standing ovation – simple, yet stylish making sure the Bride was the centre of attention for all the right reasons. I thought a couple of times that William was going to burst out into fits of giggles, but he held himself together very well. And the bridesmaids and pageboys…well, too sweet for words.

I think the real stars of the day though were Harry and Pippa. He was obviously nervous and looked a little swamped in his dress uniform, but incredibly handsome, and Pippa looked gorgeous in her dress (even if I did want to scream “EAT” at the tv). They both carried out their roles immaculately and I think they should be rightly proud of the part they played. I think they’ll be letting their hair down a LOT tonight!

So the balcony kiss happened not once, but twice. The crowds have dispersed to carry on the festivities at locations around the Capital and soon there will be a few right Royal knees-ups going on. I didn’t bake any cakes or prepare a special lunch – hubby was working and darling daughter had to go to school. A Big BOO HISS to the local council, and the High School Head who didn’t get into the celebratory vibe and allow the kids a day off (or even the chance to celebrate)…when the happy couple were tying the knot, my daughter was learning fractions.

Tonight I’ll raise a glass to the Happy Couple and wish them a very happy and long life together. The country may be full of old cynics, but hopefully this wedding has also fired a bit of good old-fashioned British pride!


In the interests of copyright I havent copied any photos of the big day...but pop along to the British Monarchy's Flikr site here for some fab photos...and also images of Eugenie & Beatrice's outfits!

I missed them...again

I missed them! HOW could I miss them???

Who? The surfers of course!

Every year around the 2nd week in April the O’Neill Coldwater Classic descends on Thurso. Its been happening for a good few years now, and every year I tell myself I will go and sit by the shore to watch the surfers…and every year I manage to only watch them streaming live on my computer. For Heaven’s Sake… if I take my binoculars to the front window I can see them from my living room!

Go visit the website, HERE!

This year was going to be different…this year the weather was fine, the surf was fine and I had no work on. Did I get there? Nope.

I spoke to the O’Neill guys on twitter ( @ONeillCWC ) so I had no excuse not to go…I knew where they’d be. Heck…if you wander around town when the surf dudes are here you can easily find out when the next heat is, and where.  Darling daughter and her friends wanted to go and watch “the hot surfers” (excuse ME, since when did thirteen year olds find dudes HOT?), so knowing that they are actually just at the giggly “he’s cute” stage I agreed to take them to Thurso East to see the competition and thought I’d secrete myself somewhere nearby (on hand taxi person and keeping a sly eye out for them). It rained.

That was that…we never managed to get those two miles to the beach.

So….now I have to wait until next year. Again. Next year I WILL go and see the Coldwater Classic, I WILL marvel at the skill of the surfers and I WILL get down to the beach.

Until then….here’s a video of the finals.

Visit the Coldwater Classic Thurso page here: http://www.oneill.com/cwc/Scotland.html

Decades of colour

As I’m sitting down with darling daughter to watch the start of the film “Grown Ups” I turned to her and said “they got the colours right at least, that is SO 70s” and it got me to thinking…

Each decade is probably attached to a few colours that predominate; when you think of a decade colours spring to mind. So this is my take on the colours of the decades...

The Sixties…psychedelic man. Swirls of colour, the brighter the better, sunny and bright in a positive fashion

The Seventies are definitely brown and orange. No need to elucidate

My take on the decade... Escape from the 70s

I’d say the 80s were blue and white, with a teeny bit of red thrown in for good measure…there was a hell of a lot of denim going round (but let’s not forget black & chrome I suppose). The New Romantics were around with their white floaty numbers and I LOVED the Athena prints…I had this one on my wall by the amazing Syd Brak.

Wired for Sound (c) Syd Brak

Personally I think the 90s were a little non-descript, with no particular palette and a miriad of boy bands jumping around. But there were a lot of neon brights. The colours of the nineties were in yer face and loud - a bit like the Spice Girls, who to me epitomised the colours of the decade.

The naughties well..Id say that was gold. Bling everywhere, this bikini kind of sums up the whole decade. £2000 for a crystal clad bikini…ok its not gold…but you get my drift.

The 2000s…well back to a multitude of hues, but in blocks of colour. Colours were rich though, designers like Matthew Williamson and Alexander McQueen will sum up this decade. The 2000s were bright but rarely garish… unless you liked your world to make a statement…this decade I think will be remembered for jewel colours.

Alexander McQueen 2003, photograph (c) Nylon Magazine

And now? Double denim & back to blue anyone?? I wonder how we'll remember the colours of this decade?

So what are your thoughts? are your colours the same as mine??

Fashion Dysmorphia and me

So I’m sitting in my lounge, cuppa to hand and a copy of my favourite fashion magazine nestling in my lap. I won’t lie, it hasn’t been the best of days, so a flick through to see what the gorgeous people are wearing should brighten my day right up.

Its spring (well it’s supposed to be) and jumping out from the pages are lithe young lovelies wearing blocks of bright colour, floaty florals and stripes galore, all accessorised to within an inch of their lives. It makes me smile….but as I drool over the latest gorgeous handbag and some fabulous Ash Buckle hi-tops (if I had the disposable they would be mine) I happen to look down.

Yet again I’m wearing my old faithful washed out denim flares, olive and black striped top that’s at least 15 years old (hey, at least stripes are in again) and my converse. Well at least I’ve more or less ditched my staple DMs for something softer and *ahem* more feminine.

As I lovingly gaze at the models I know that I will never, ever look that good – for goodness sake I’m twice their age – but I have also come to realise that I have Fashion Dysmorphia. I have a room full of clothes and nothing matches. I can casually fling on an assortment of garments, look in the mirror, flick my hair in a fashionista way (well what’s left of it, but that’s a whole different story) and think…. “ hmmm…not too shabby”. Then a few hours later I realise that Worzel Gummidge had more fashion-sense and better hair.

When I worked amongst “people” I managed to look not too mis-matched, even though I did like my mini-skirts and Doc Marten boots, or sky-scraper heels. Now, over ten years later, I have taken a step backwards rather than an older and wiser, more fashionably clad, step forwards. Working at home, behind a computer screen, is a fashion killer. Why get dressed up when you have nowhere to go and jeans are comfy? But again, I’m straying from the point.

Give me free reign in one of the top fashion houses (just for an afternoon mind you, I’m not greedy), and I would still emerge looking like I had just stepped out of the sale rails at Primark. There is something that happens between the light travelling from the mirror to my eyes that shifts the particles and I don’t see what everyone else sees… I see a perfectly presentable mother/wife/chauffeur (albeit a little on the unusual side) and they see a scarecrow. Perhaps Brian Cox could help me sort out the realities of this in some way? And yes, before you ask…when I look in the mirror I am wearing my spectacles.

Be afraid...be very afraid

One case in point is the outfit for my brother’s recent wedding. Imagine.. I trawl through the shops in Inverness…three hours to find the perfect outfit with daughter in tow. As usual I end up in M&S, Per Una is usually a life saver, but nothing catches my eye. However, I’m in a retro vibe at the moment and a lovely 50s style linen shift dress beckons me from the rails (I know!! Linen, the Devil’s material…which I make a rule never to wear!!) The clock is ticking…I team it with a red jacket and shoe boots…and don’t look too shabby. Until I see the wedding photos! How on earth can something that looks good on the models (even if they are a few stone lighter) look so wrong? When I gazed into the changing room mirror on that fateful day I saw a woman in a smart outfit; it suited me and would be formal enough for a wedding. I even check and double check to make sure it’s the right size and everything ….the photos strangely enough show our dear old friend Worzel.

So, I have come to the conclusion I have Fashion Dysmorphia, it is a non-life threatening affliction caused by the inability to see how fashion translates onto one’s body. When a sufferer looks in the mirror they see a distorted image … they see a fabulously put together ensemble, while the world around them weeps.

Time out for a film....

This afternoon I was supposed to be writing up some committee minutes, but decided to take time out and do something I haven’t done for a while. I sat down, ignored everything that needed to be done, and watched a new film.

 

Let Me In

I bought “Let Me In” on impulse. Hubby knows I like a good horror so when we were shopping he took it off the shelves, said “This is supposed to be good” and I popped it in the basket. He doesn’t like horror films, so I always watch them alone.

When I settled down to watch this I was expecting a Vampire flick (with a capital V). I haven’t seen many horrors lately as I’ve become fairly jaded by the whole horror genre…most these days seem to rely too heavily on special effects and have very little in the way of storyline. (The last one I watched was Legion…even Paul Bettany couldn’t save THAT one). What I found in this film was surprising. It’s actually good, and is not the usual slasher flick...you know the type…teenagers/misfits, spooky woods, crowded fairgrounds, isolated location and a serial killer/vampire on the loose.

Let Me In is unusual in that the “horror” is not what you would expect and the blood n guts, although on the whole well done, is not the actual focus of the film. I would say actually that in the scheme of things it’s secondary and is intrinsic to the story, not just there for the Hell of it.

This is the story of a friendship between a 12 year old boy and the girl next door. It just so happens that he’s being beaten up by the school bullies and she’s a vampire.

The film is, very much for me, in the film noir type of category. The lighting is atmospheric, while washed out colours, mood enhancing background music and excellent camera direction mix with a story subtly told.

This is not an “I’m going to make you jump, your heart will be in your mouth and you’re not going to sleep for a week” type of film. It’s one that will get under your skin, slowly, and make you think hard about who the actual monster is.

Its no, Near Dark, and it definitely isn’t the Lost Boys, but I think this one may stand the test of time as these two have. The nearest comparison I have is Justin Cronin’s book “The Passage”, which has had its film rights secured. Chloe Moretz who plays the lead in this film would fit in as the leading lady for “The Passage” too. You have to have read the book to understand where I’m coming from there.

I’m not going to tell you any more about the film though….you have to watch it. If you like a film that makes you go “Hmmmm” at the end, and gets the brain matter going, then this is for you