On… Shit Fashion Girls Say

I was going to write Sh*t Fashion Girls Say, but then I was like, why the hell would I asterisk my own blog? I can say anything I like on this blog. SHIT. FUCK. WILLY.

Anyway, these made me laugh so hard I kept missing lines and had to rewatch them over and over again. Thought you might enjoy them.

The continuity of the bangs really makes the second one for me.

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On… your own personal soundtrack

You know when you’ve got your iPod, and you’re walking around, and you pretend you’re in a movie and the song is your own personal soundtrack? No? Just me then.

These are my songs when I am trying to be all thoughtful and pensive and shit. You know, in a looking-out-the-bus-window-at-the-rain kind of mood.

Strange and Beautiful by Aqualung.

More Than This by Roxy Music.

Let It Rain by OK GO. (This is not the official video. For some reason they don’t seem to have made one. Jeez.)

Don’t Ask Me by INXS.

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On…. Original Sprout Deep Conditioner

I’ve been testing beauty products for an article I’m writing for Tatler’s May issue.

And I have to give you guys the early heads-up: this Original Sprout Deep Conditioner is THE BEST THING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY HAIR IN like four years.

My hair is blonde and damaged and brittle and unreliable. It’s kind of like a stripper, I guess. It may also have daddy issues and a boyfriend called Big Tony. But that’s not the point right now.

The point is: if your hair is a needy victim like mine, try this. It’s amazing. My hair feels and looks silky, smooth, supple and strong. (Allegedly it’s for babies, but Errol is a baldy and, based on Fox and my early childhood, will probably be a baldy till he’s about four. So I’m totally stealing it.)

You can buy it here with free international delivery.

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On… guess where we’re going….

As you guys know, I’m writing Your Next Favourite Book Series. It’s set in New York, and pretty much the minute I got the deal with St Martins Press, I began the process of applying for a US visa.

Getting a US visa, as a writer, is tough. It’s called an O-1 visa, and you need to prove – and bear with me here, because it’s hard to say without an arched eyebrow at the very least – ‘extraordinary ability’. Proving extraordinary ability is, of course, recockulously hard and requires compiling everything you‘ve ever done in your life, for a start. The books themselves aren’t enough: I needed university transcripts, birth and marriage certificates, book reviews, sales figures, interviews, press, all of it, plus lengthy and detailed letters of recommendation from people I work with, and then – this was the kicker – reviews of the letters of recommendation of people I’ve worked with by independent-but-highly-esteemed-industry-experts. It took less time and effort to create and hatch a baby than it did to get my US visa. Seriously. Ask Errol.

But… drumroll… a few weeks ago, it was approved. (Thank to Mssrs Clark and Wang at Flynn & Clark! Woo! Round of applause for my lawyers, please!)

And so we’re moving to New York.

Naturally, it’s not totally uncomplicated (nothing worth doing in life, at least, not my life, ever is). Fox’s career requires him to be in Europe/the Middle East/Asia a lot, which does – and will continue to – suck a fat one. Our friends are all over the place, my parents are in Hong Kong, his family is in Ireland. But we’re finally going to live in New York. Which has been our plan since… well, forever.

I’m so happy. I think it’s my genetic make-up: my parents are big city people and terminal itinerants, and in my life I’ve moved countries six times and houses about, no exaggeration, 38 times (I just counted).

But moving to New York is The Big One.

Just saying the words ‘we’re moving to New York’ gives me a face-acher of a smile. Thinking about it makes me want to yap and shriek and clap and woo like a drunk chick in a karaoke bar. I want to wriggle and jump and roll like a sheepdog on ecstasy. I want to pee. I want to shout ‘YEAH BITCHES’ and high-five myself. I want to pledge allegiance, hail a cab, down a martini and slam my face into a bagel with everything. In that order. So I hope this explains the lack of blog posts and Tweets and newsletter updates, dearest friends, but between New York, the baby, and writing Your Next Favourite Book Series and a couple of screenplays, I’m a busy little thing. Forgive me and I will make it up to you. I swear.

Now. Anyone want to rent us an apartment?

This is New York.

This is us getting married in New York.

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On… Rules Of Civility

The Rules Of Civility by Amor Towles.

I love this book.

Update: I wrote an email to Amor Towles telling him how much I loved his book, and he replied! I dont know why I am so surprised, since I always reply when you guys write to me, but I was. And it makes me like the book all the more. Try it, you’ll love it.

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On… things I like right now

REN Glycolactic peel

Makes me look like I have my own personal lighting director. The blurb says it’s for ‘congested, mature or sun damaged skin’, of which mine is (d) none of the above, actually it’s rather pale and dry. But this stuff is magic nonetheless.

Sebastian Penetraitt Repair Masque.

My hair is like the feeble wheelchair-bound cousin in The Secret Garden. It doesn’t do what it’s meant to do, no-one likes it much and it whinges all the time. I think that’s the right personality for that kid, isn’t it? Ah, can’t be bothered to check. Sometimes I like having the internet right THERE and not using it to find out things like that. This way, I can just make shit up. ANYWAY, this hair mask (sorry, ‘masque’, clearly the Sebastian people are feeling all French as well as feeling like spelling perfctly good words however the hell they want to) is like the Secret Garden: it transforms my hair into a running, shouting, jumping boy! Okay, this whole analogy isn’t working. Let’s move on.

Chanel No.19.

A present from my lovely parents for Christmas and utterly divine. Tania Sanchez describes it as ‘Haughty and immune to sweetness… this extraordinary perfume appeals to any woman who has wished to know what it is to be heartless. [It] keeps you in the boardroom, in three-inch stilettos and a pencil skirt.’ (That’s from Perfumes: The A-Z Guide, by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez, an inspiring, hilarious, poetic encyclopaedia of perfume, by the way.) I want to be heartless! I want a boardroom! I love this scent. It’s sort of sharp and green and musky, makes me feel all elegant and 70s and high-waisted-trouser-suity-ambitious, and whenever I wear it, Fox whispers ‘you break that glass ceiling, girl’ as I walk past. Inspired by the divine sighsandwhispers, here are some Chanel No.19 ads from the 70s. Love the straplines.

And lastly, vodka with ice cubes and cucumber slices.

Sometimes I go through a whiskey phase, sometimes I like beer, red wine is good (but tres drying for the skin), I usually get along quite well with champagne. But I always, always love vodka. Try it neat or, if you’re feeling wussy, with soda, and a slice of cucumber. It works. Trust me.

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On… sighsandwhispers

Most blogs – both mine and other people’s – are a deeply enjoyable waste of time (DEWOT).

This isn’t derogatory: I’m a big fan of DEWOTs. When I’m DEWOTting – whether it’s blogsurfing or online shopping, or real world shopping or people-watching, or whatever – the front half of my brain goes ‘ooo looky shiny things!’ and the back half of my brain is free to wander around my subconscious and digest ideas and come up with solutions to my current projects. I find frequent DEWOTing essential to the writing process: I write in intense bursts, then go and look at something on the internet or stare out the window for awhile or kiss the baby or whatever, so the back of my brain can digest what I’ve just done and what I need to change or do next. As an old creative director of mine once said: “Just think about it deeply, then forget it… then an idea will jump up in your face.”*

I don’t often go to other author / writing blogs much in my online DEWOTting. I can’t sort out what to do with a character when I’m reading about another author’s issues with his characters, or whatever. It’s just distracting, too much noise. So instead, I go to fashion or interior design or restaurant blogs, or to a couple of random little blogs that are just doing their own thang in the most awesome way, like that person at a party who’s dancing alone in the corner and having the best time out of everyone.

Like sighsandwhispers.

Its raison d’etre is posting advertorials and fashion editorials from old fashion magazines. Most of them from the 70s, but sometimes they’re from other decades too. This women is passionate about her retro magazines – in fact, the word ‘retro’ is demeaning and gimmicky. It’s more like she’s unearthing little gems from the past. She’s a fashion/media historian. I actually love sighsandwhispers so much that it’s one of the very few blogs that I subscribe to by email and open every day, rather than just skim on Flipboard**. Here are some of my favourite posts.

Apparently these were the sexiest men of 1979. Godammnit, I love me some Burt.

When this one arrived I smacked the desk, I was laughing so hard.

Is it just me, or is the mo-and-chest-hair combination DEEPLY sexually alluring? Just me? Just… okay then. (Cough.)

“What would you little maniacs like to do first?” I would like you to CONDITION YOUR GODDAMN HAIR KELLY. JEEZ.

*Okay, this was Don Draper. But you get my point.

**By the way, Flipboard has utterly transformed my blogtime, as rather than have to remember a blog or use stupid Google reader or whatever or bother to go to the site and scroll and click and blah blah blah, I can just flip back and forth, on my iPad, as though the blog were a magazine. SO much easier and more enjoyable. Best App ever. Now, Flipboard limits the number of sites you can read on it, which is annoying at first but actually brilliant as it helps you streamline. I regularly discard blogs when they start boring me or if they get the wrong its/it’s too often, or if they’re not updating often enough to keep me interested… (The irony! From she who updates like once a fortnight… What can I say? I’m a Flippocrite. BOOM! Thank you! I’m here all week! Try the veal!) Anyway. My current favourites are: Something Navy, LeFashion, Habitually Chic, Chapman Interiors, Cup of Joe, My Baby Sleep Guide, IntoTheGloss and of course SighsAndWhispers. And the websites I have on Flipboard and also read like a magazine, just in case you’re wondering, are Fashionista, Refinery29, WhoWhatWear, The Hollywood Reporter, and New York Magazine. And a couple of others I am almost sure I’m going to discard today as they’re boring me. If anyone has any suggestions for blogs and sites I might like, by the way, bring it on. Ooo, and if you like all of those sites, get The Collection app from the NYTimes, too, just because it’s awesome. Hmm. Okay. That is all. Longest asterisked point ever.

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On… The Heavy

The Heavy – How You Like Me Now?

This is the song I listen to when I’m doing my Pram Powerwalk. (Yes, I am a cliché.)

I love it. I march and scowl-pout and do an angry duck-neck thing.

Sometimes I stop and do some angry thrusts at nothing in particular.

This is an improvement on singing 50 Cent’s ‘I’m a P.I.M.P.’.

Apparently, a new mother shouting ‘You fuckin’ with me, you fuckin’ with a P.I.M.P.’ as she cruises the streets is frowned upon by society. Man, people are so uptight.

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