Gorgeous girl...

This post over at East Side Bride reminded me that I've been meaning to share these pictures from February's Marie Claire because they are just so gorgeous.


I love Lily Allen. She's articulate, talented and does her bit to bring celebrity back down to earth. Which is desperately needed in my opinion. Not to mention that the girl speaks her mind. Which I love....

Lily Allen in Dolce and Gabbana. This dress was everywhere after it appeared on the runway. Lily wears it better than anyone else I've seen though.



From the interview;

So, when you see magazines like Heat and Closer and First, and they've got arrows pointing towrads sweat patches and stuff like that...

"I refuse to put make-up on just beacuse the paparazzi are on my doorstep. I find it morally wrong. I'm just walking to the f*ing shop! I don't see myself as a role model; people should look to mothers and sisters for role models."




I love the contrast between her dark hair and this gorgeous, and yes slightly bridal, dress.


I think it's one of the problems with Kate Moss. Everybody keeps going on abour her being a very bad role model. She's a model, not a role model.

"She's a f*ing clothes horse. Deal with it."





I think she looks like a modern Audrey Hepburn.


Let me ask you about constantly being made the spokeswoman for girls of your generation, and all that size zero stuff....

"It's a weird one. Although it's not really my responsibility, I'm happy to speak out about different things because I think it's f*ing disgusting how women are represented in the media."


Images and words from Marie Claire magazine, February 2008.

A bird in the hand(made)...

Well seeing as it seems that you lovely ladies are a very sensible bunch, I will of course share our latest diy conquest. In the grand tradition of my diy projects, there were moments when I nearly through her out the window. But as she doesn't have wings that simply wouldn't have been a good idea.

Meet Norma Jean.....

(I thought she deserved a real name, she's too pretty to be to be without one)

She's a prototype so please forgive the fact that she is one legged and has no tail. The final version will be made in the silk dupion shown in the sneak peak and will be wrapped in the extra fabric from my dress, once it's been altered. She will have a tail of white dove feathers, from live free flying garden doves, if you please! And she will have a boy, a boy of the smartest black silk dupion with some very dapper tail feathers of his own.

Her mauve rose is made from the same ribbon that I will wear wrapped round my waist and the flower in her hair is the same colour as the one I'm going to wear in mine. She was going to have a little birdcage veil, but I couldn't resist leaving the rest of it billowing out behind her, it's just so pretty!

Despite the afore mentioned desire to jettison her from the fourth floor, she was surprisingly enjoyable to make. It turns out that I'm much better at DIY that doesn't involve printers, measurements or straight lines.

However the first version was awful. Truly dreadful, more Casper the Friendly Ghost than sweet chubby little bird. The second version was better, but wouldn't stand up. The third version, well you can judge for yourself. But she was the only one deserving of eyes, a dress and the all important beak.

I want to thank you all for your lovely words of support. It's wonderful to know that you are such a fantastically sane bunch of girlies! And extra points to Meg, who was foiled by the merry widow netting. Is it called that in the States? I have a funny feeling that it's not and that you will have no idea what I'm talking about. Hmmm. Here's a picture, just in case....

I think it's more commonly known as French or Russian netting, but Merry Widow is such a fun name that I can't think of it as anything else!

Anyway, I was going to use it on Norma Jean, but it was a bit overpowering on such a little lady. I think I will try and make myself some sort of a veil or fascinator with it. I don't really know where to begin though. But I'm sure I'll figure something out. It turns out I'm quite crafty when I get going!


So what do you think? I know bird cake toppers are getting a little passée, everyone and their grandmother has them these day, but they seemed so fitting to our outdoor garden party wedding that I couldn't resist having them sit watching over our piles of cupcakes. And what has become passée in the States usually hasn't even made it across the pond, so our guests will most likely have never seen anything like them before. I predict a few puzzled looks from our Grandparents - why are there birds on your cake? Where are the little plastic people?

Lusting after.....

Cold beverage jar from Crate and Barrel.

These would be perfect for our outdoor buffet and barbecue. Either for water with pretties floating in it or for homemade lemonade, if we manage to get round to making any.

I've got a feeling that postage to the UK would cost a small fortune though. Sigh.


Via enjoy : {the blog}

Bianca Jagger....

When I was 15 I knew I would never want to get married. I also knew that if I ever did want to get married I would want to do it in a superbly sexy white suit, à la fashion icon Bianca Jagger.

Funny how much you know when you're 15....


The iconic white suit was designed by Yves Saint Laurent and made famous by the fact that she wore the jacket with nothing underneath. This sexy wedding outfit has made Bianca Jagger a fashion icon. Albeit an accidental one. Apparently Yves designed a shirt to go with the outfit but by the time of the wedding Jagger was so pregnant with her daughter Jade that it didn't fit any more. So she decided to go sans shirt. And bra. As you do!

Thank god she did, because it looked stunning.

The floppy white sun hat with attached veil added an extra element of seventies chic. Although personally I think she looks completely timeless and proves that wearing something true to yourself is always the way to go.


(images from here and here)

Controversy in the wedding world....

A sneak preview of my latest (and favourite) diy project. Although I have to admit that I'm more than a little nervous of sharing the actual project with you. A few weeks ago I wouldn't have thought twice. And then I read this over at Weddingbee, and well it scared me a little. 

This thing that I'm making, it isn't exactly an original idea. It's an idea that has been around for centuries, an idea that The Boy's great Grandmother utilized, the results of which still hung on the family christmas tree when The Boy was, well a boy. But it's an idea that one woman in the world of weddings has used to create a very successful business. A business that everyone and their dog has blogged about, a business that has appeared in three million and one inspiration boards. A business so successful, so omnipresent that you hear 'handmade xxxx' and you think Miss xxx xxxxx instantly.

Well The Boy and I saw these handmade whatsits and we loved them. But at $300 a pop there was no way in hell we could afford them. So, remembering the whatsits his great grandmother had made, The Boy said we can do that, let's make our own. Which is what we did.

Personally I don't see anything wrong with that. We made our own version. Yes our own version is similar to the ones that have taken the wedding world by storm. But not identical. And not claiming to be by Miss Terribly Successful Handmade Business. And not for sale. And not (and I quote) immoral, illegal or deserving of hate mail. Or so The Boy and I think.

So, let's see what you lovely ladies (and the occassional gentleman) think and perhaps, if it appears that I won't be lynched, I will share what The Boy and I spent the day making. In all of it's lop sided, one-legged glory.

And if you think that we have done something immoral, illegal or deserving of hate mail, please be polite in how you say so. Because nobody likes impolite hate mail.

Harmony...

The day after my birthday the doorbell rang. Sighing, I unfolded my legs from beneath me and stumbled lazily to the door. A clipboard was signed and a box handed over, an incomprehensible box with no obvious opening. But I found my way in, eventually. 

Orchids. Dozens of the deepest pink orchids, beautiful in their confidence. Exotic, of course, but comforting too. Something about them, so reassuring. 

Three and a half months they graced my desk. Slowly dwindling in number, one by one losing vibrancy yet still beautiful as their petals turned papery and lost their plumpness. Beautiful as a face lined after a life lived long.

I picked the final heads today, snapping them from their stalks which still stood strong. The antithesis of the tired, lazy tulip, fading after a week in the sun. Stalks left bare and sculptural I took the heads and found the plate. My favourite plate. A plate among the many hand-me-downs that made The Boy's first house a home. A plate that sang out at me from cupboards populated with cheap matching crockery and the occasional unwanted specimen left over from a parent's kitchen, its fellows long gone. 

I gathered it under my arm and drifted though the dusty north light of late afternoon, looking for a place to set it down.

Three and a half months I had waited to see that pink with that green. The colours such a perfect harmony that it seemed so simple - of course The Boy had saved his pennies and bought a flat, of course his parents had given him the plate instead of sending it to a charity shop only to be discarded because it had a chip; of course two years later he met a girl and of course four years after that the girl's mother would send her flowers. Perfect deep pink flowers, made to lie on that plate in the pale light of a Scottish day. Of course. 

As with all of the greatest harmonies, it was so very simple.