Une Pomme de ma Tête

Isn’t it funny the things that we become attached to? When I look through my room, I have so many things: books, hats, clothes—the list goes on and on. And yet, when  you ask me to point out the things that I would take with me if I had to leave it all behind, it’s the funny, nearly valueless things that mean so much to me. Now I’m not saying I would leave me rings and jewelry PUH-lease. It’s just some of my favorite things are quite unexpected. Take for instance this picture:

I randomally picked it up one day in a cute shop in Oxford called Arcadia (really a haven for vintage papers of all kinds). I think I probably got it because it was the only old magazine reproduction that was under 10 pounds, and yet, it has brought me so many smiles. One of my friends even referred to it as the “naked girl” picture. But that little French adventurer is more than a sometimes naked girl to me. She’s sort of my spirit animal. Well, the other day I looked at it and found myself caught looking at the white outfit. I couldn’t think if I had any hat that would be anything like hers and more or less gave the idea up. Literally, less than 5 days later, I was browsing an antique warehouse and came upon the on I’m wearing in pictures for 5 dollars. It was fate! I hope you like my interpretation.

Outfit Details: Hat: Thrifted | Shirt: French Connection | Capris: J.M. Collection | Heels: Loft

 

The Woman Tarzan Loved

One of my favorite areas I discovered in London is Shoreditch. What became a constant hangout started by chance; I wanted a bagel shop. Now, London differs from New York in a lot of good ways, but ranking the top of the list as to London’s deficits is this city’s dearth of bagels. However, despite the inability to locate a single bagel shop on any given street, Shoreditch, specifically Brick Lane, hosts a whopping two bagel shops almost next door. Arriving at them is like a pilgrimage. If you start at the beginning of Brick Lane (and don’t take the much more practical route through Bishopsgate), you have to battle through about a half mile of very enthusiastic resteraunters vying to lure you into their pan-Asian establishments. About the time you reach a very sketchy bridge, the restaurants begin to be replaced by bookshops and coffee shops; it’s then you find yourself in the middle of hipsterdom. You must cooly continue past all the overpriced Americanos in their minimalistic surroundings and proceed onwards, but this is the hard part. Hipster central makes way for some of the coolest vintage shops in London. If you want a 15 pence bagel (that’s right, the bagels are criminally cheap), you have to travel onwards. I have to confess I regularly failed.

It was on one such day that I discovered this LOVE Moschino dress. When I arrived home, one of my former Disney colleagues took one look at it and said, “Oh, how cute, it’s Jane!” Hitherto, “safari” had been the only word to come to my mind, but I had to concede she was right. For fun, we started trying to put a “Jane” look together, and somehow, even with my limited wardrobe, I managed to have virtually the whole outfit amongst my belongings. 

I wanted to visit the Imperial War Museum before I left and thought this would make the perfect ensemble. Little did I know before arrival, the Imperial War Museum is imperial only in name. Nothing there predates WWI. Then again, if we were being truly authentic, there was no way Jane would be showing her knees. So with that, I hope you enjoy my modern interpretation of Jane Porter.

Outfit Details: Hat, Scarf, Belt, and Umbrella: Vintage, Dress: LOVE Moschino, Shoes: LOFT (old)

Souk Central

When I arrived in Marrakech, I was so overwhelmed by the souks, language difference, and sleep deprivation after our 6 AM Ryanair flight and my recent exams, I spent the majority of the day wandering aimlessly through the souks, attempting to haggle and marvelling at the low costs. One of the grandest sights in Marrakech is the Koutoubia Mosque, which dominates the skyline in several directions thanks to its height. Next to it is the main square, Jemaa el-Fnaa. During the day the place is covered with orange juice salesmen (who will sell you fresh-squeezed orange juice for a standard 4 Moroccan dirham= roughly 40 cents.. unless you flirt a little). At night, the square stays open very late, dinner spots open up, storytellers attract crowds with their stories, and someone is bound to try to (if you look like a tourist) get you to take a picture with a snake. This square backs up into a spiderweb of souks (or markets), selling everything from brass to baby clothes. Among my purchases I counted: a small kettle (to make mint tea, of course), placemats, a fez (you know me), a 2 sets of Berber earrings and a ring (authenticity lacking), and Ras El Hanout (a blend of spices only to be found in Morocco). I saved the sites for the following day

Babouches! The neon yellow pointy ones are the traditional Moroccan wear.

Did someone say dinner?

 

Outfit Details: Shirt: Primark | Shrug: Primark |Earrings: old | Necklace: Anthropologie | Jeans: LOFT | Shoes: KORS Michael Kors | Clutch: Rebecca Minkoff

Fall of the Habsburgs

Important piece of information: for those of you travelling to Vienna, if by chance you are taking a bus from the Bratislava airport, “Vienna” in English is “Wien” in German. Give up on a sign that looks like Vienna, and hasten to “Wien”-er land! Once there, get ready for delightful food. To start, Viennese coffee and Vienna stew at Cafe Schwarzenberg, as fancy as it was overpriced, and even though my meal screamed tourist, an unexpected bread charge for 6 euros is positively excessive (especially for two pieces). And yet it looks so unassuming…Vienna marked my first stop on a 5 day trip, ending in Berlin. Necessarily, by only bringing a carry on, my fashion options were a bit limited, so more so than usual, cool comfort won the day, and it’s probably a good thing considering how much we walked. I knew almost nothing about the city before I arrived, save its particularly musical upbringing. I have a habit of wearing fashionable shoes walking, only to lose feeling in my smaller toes for over a week. This time my trusty travel Bass shoes kept me supported to see this: and these:And I walked until I was positively inspired…even if Chanel is known to make people a bit mooney and swoony….We never figured out what this next thing was, but it looked cool. With the Latin writing, I like to think of it as a Roman temple re-incarnate. What I wore:
Bowler: Brixton
Scarf: estate sale find
Sweater: H&M
Jeans: Ann Taylor Loft
Shoes: Bass

DAY 2The second day in Vienna, I toned the walking down and actually did a few things, starting with the Habsburg Palace. I could tell I would be new money when I was surprised at how sparse the inside of the Habsburg Palace. However, what they might have saved on wall hangings, the certainly lost on cutlery. Every successive ruler had to have a travel set of cutlery, one for each house, and even one solely reserved for Easter Day. Accompanying this display, before the advent of the lightbulb, one had to be well stocked with ornate candlesticks. The Habsburgs have an entire room.

Less than expected, but very red

Next, I headed up towards the University of Vienna (and its surrounding area)  to pay homage to one of the great Austrian economists (Von Hayek) alma maters. While we were there, they were having an impromptu book sale, and I managed to snag a few English vintage Penguin editions. Subsequently, I decided my daughter will attend the University of Vienna; now to have the daughter…For the rest of the afternoon I wondered a bit taking pictures of things I liked and getting lost. Somewhere along the way, I decided I would try to see if there were standing room tickets to whatever opera was playing. The opera was about 10 minutes from my hostel, so I thought I could run back and change if I stood in line for a ticket at 6:30 for a 7:30 production. As it turned out when I got there, the opera started at 7:00! Thank goodness, I was early. They also only asked three euros to get into the opera. In our lives we all need personal rituals (whether buying scones on Saturdays or keeping an involved makeup routine). Personally, I maintain a ritual of always drinking champagne when I go to the opera. I thought they sold it by the glass, only to receive a small personal bottle to add to my personal routine. What could be nicer than standing on the balcony of an opera house drinking champagne?What I wore:
Hat: Brixton (see above)
Scarf: thrifty find
Sunglasses: Urban Outfitters
Shirt: GAP
Pants: Antonio Melani
Shoes: Tommy Hilfiger