Weddings and Friends

Wearing Gianluca Capannolo dress, Palizzi necklace, Dries Van Noten shoes, Louis Vuitton purse

A few weekends ago, Mass and I headed back to his hometown for 36 hours to attend a friend's wedding. Out of the entire small town wedding I think he and I were one of the few couples, if not the only, who made the effort from out of town. Albeit it gave us a chance to see his family and enjoy mother's day with his mom but our primary reason was for the wedding.

I moved to London four years ago. I was lucky enough to find my favourite person here and have subsequently decided to stay. My decision to stay was based almost entirely on him and my career. What it did not concern was the other relationships I built here. Now, I realise that may sound harsh but it's true. When living in a revolving door city like London, invaluable friends are very difficult to find. I have been to countless leaving drinks, had good friends come in and out of the city (sometimes twice!), and had the 'get to know you conversation' about a thousand times. I can count on one finger a friend who has been here throughout my entire journey that still lives in London.

As a friend, I make a very conscious effort to stay in touch. I will never shy away from getting in contact on a regular basis. When I go home, where most of my good friends live, I love getting everyone together. Every time it seems like we never missed a beat. And I will always make the trip for their wedding.

The point I'm trying to make here is that good friends are difficult to find so when you do come across one, don't let them forget how much they mean to you. Even if that means flying over just to be there for them.

crazy for coats

Both coats from NICO DIDONNA

If you know me, you know I love myself a good coat (demonstrated here). When fall/winter (more fall than winter) I like to go around the stores, see the latest trend and either buy myself something similar with a twist or if all else fails...a classic.

Coats are a primary in Canada. We have had ourselves some true veterans in the business, like Mackage who have never failed to keep me warm and other European brands like Moncler to transform you into a typical Italian. For me, I like a mix of everything. Above are two examples. The first is a sheepskin coat/cape. Quite short in length but Nico put on two buttons so I could close it during the windier months. Originally I had tried on one of the Burberry Prorsum shearlings but they seem to run small because a size 36 was a little snug for me (mind you I was only wearing a tshirt at the time) and unfortunately they have sold out pretty quickly here in London. Nevertheless, I think the above suits me quite perfectly. Definitely something for years to come.

The second is a fantastic variation of both work wear and casual/semi-formal evening out wear. Crazy warm and an insane colour, it is made from two circular pieces and a sash.

I'll post each of these in turn...though having already shot the first one, it doesn't seem like it was done its justice.

Sorry for the text heavy post but I just have one more thing to say: this blog was created as an outlet to inspire and be inspired by others. The blogging world is jam packed with countless motivating people (fashion and un-fashion related alike). However I think what visitors should take from my and every other blog they read is inspiration to not necessarily copy the look bootleg version (because you'll never succeed like the original) but to transform what you see into your own creative masterpiece.

I know they say imitation is the highest form of flattery...but I encourage you to try your own style inspired by what you see rather than mirroring it piece by piece. Just a thought.

tea pot, short and stout

TALULA dress/skirt, THEORY blazer, ADIDAS vest, MIU MIU bag, FRATELLI ROSETTI boots, CLUB MONACO gloves, STOLEN FROM BF scarf

Last minute decision for afternoon tea on a Saturday in London is probably the worst idea you could create because its almost bound to not materialise (at least not by any form of proper execution). Exhibit A: us. We were desperately trying to call up hotels/tea houses at 2pm on a Saturday for a stroke of luck cancellation and of course were disappointed. Instead we trotted on over to the Renaissance Hotel in hopes of finding a hidden high tea treasure. We were wrong.

I'm definitely not a high tea expert but this was bad. It was on the brink of horrible. Won't go into details, just save you the trouble and settle on brunch or dim sum instead.

Re the outfit: I wasn't quite in the mood for dressing up nor was I in the mood for dressing down, so I went somewhere in the middle.

FUR and WINTER

LISA: DANIER rabbit fur shawl, NICO DIDONNA vest, STEFANEL trousers, INDEPENDENT STORE shirt from HK, TOPSHOP shoes, AA belt (stolen from sister)

MASS: NICO DIDONNA coat

I love fur. I can't help it. I know some of you will go all animal-cruelty on me and I completely agree with you on most points but fur is warm. Even though I come from Canada where we have one distinct season relatively longer than the rest, London is also cold - a wet cold. And I walk...a lot. So I need something to keep me warm and fur does the trick (so does goose down...but can you wear that to work? Arguably you shouldn't wear fur to work either but let's not get off base here). Anyway, the point is, I grow more and more like my mother everyday and she brought me up wearing fur coats (she also got paint thrown on her by activists in dt TO during the late 80's...but again, different story).

Wednesday in London is 7 degrees. Time for fur, a super soft one like above.

Sparkle and shine

Friday was my final and last day of classes for my LLM. From here, we're working on our papers/exams/dissertation; five months of research, studying and attempting to stay focused. When people in London first meet me and ask the polite questions of what I do, I have never said anything other than studying. I have been in school for 7 years now and I cannot WAIT to get out. I am excited and anxious to start implementing on this stuff I've accumulated in school but more importantly, be able to make money! Being a student doesn't stretch your funds very far (lucky for me I have a generous father and bf :)) Needless to say, I am looking forward to it...I just hope it'll come sooner rather than later!

Anyway, to celebrate my last day of classes (OK, not really - Mass can't eat meat on Fridays because he gave it up for lent), we went to Shogun at the Millennium Hotel (which poisoned an FBI agent a few years ago..hrm) for Japanese. The restaurant itself was great, I recommend the toro for sushi and the breaded oysters. Delish! We've tried and tested many, MANY japanese restaurants in London and have had some huge hits and misses (Asakusa is not recommended). This one comes high on our list, a little more pricey than a Japanese Izakaya, but well worth it if you're in the mood for Zuma/Nobu standard without the pretentiousness.

However, one big aspect dampened our meal. We were meeting a friend who is notorious for being late for dinner, who works with Mass. Typically him and his wife come around 45 minutes late, average. We're pretty understanding and we try to work around their infamous characteristic. This time, he was 1.5 hours late. What do I think about tardiness? I agree that it could happen, no one's ever on time 100% of the time. But how could it happen 1.5 hours later?! I've ordered, ate, and gotten the bill by the time you've gotten here! If you didn't want to come, or would rather cancel, no problem. You cannot walk in 1.5 hours later without so much of a 'sorry' and expect us to have a smile. Just because you call earlier and say we can order does not allow you to take your time in coming thereafter; the sense of urgency does not dissipate with a phone call!

Anyway, life moves on. Maybe next time we'll tell them to come for lunch and we'll get there for dinner instead.





Wearing: H&M Sequin Jacket, Mendocino shirt, AA leggings, Topshop shoes, Earrings from mommy, Necklace from Kamakura which is 1/2 hr away from Tokyo, Cartier tank watch, Vintage bracelet.

Ciao,
From Manchester Street

older and wiser? or just older?

This past week I went through a revelation: I am getting older. All my life I've surrounded myself mostly with friends and partners that were generally older than I, so I've always been the baby. However, this week I found out one of my friends from Uni is engaged (a male no less, whom these days tend to marry later, if at all), I held my gfs newborn for the first time (I'm definitely NOT a natural), and I went to my first 40th birthday party (not related to me). Then, I realised...I'm getting older. I'm in no rush to force the process, I know all girls say that, but I really am not. I think it's mostly because my mother whom was a successful business woman (rare amongst her now chinese, tai-chi group of frds who have spent most of their lives raising their kids on their husband's money, who lives in China aka si lai) and she always reminded me to push the boundaries to create my own independence. Even til this day, she writes me emails telling me to be humble in happiness and work hard to make your own footprint. I'm still en route, therefore, in no rush to accelerate forward (...as Mass breaths a sigh of relief, lol).

Despite this all, I am still getting older and cannot fight signs of old(er) age. An example was this past weekend. Typically, my wknds spent in London are pretty simple. We have dinners and brunches planned and we're very happy people. However, we had some good friends of mine in town for the week/weekend and went out for a celebratory 'party' night on Sat eve. I'll be honest with you, by the time 10pm rolled around and I was putting on my outfit, I was pretty darn beat, and ready to throw in the towel. Nevertheless, I pushed through (the agony, the pain, and the muscle aches), and headed on out. Went to a club, Merah, which was the former Crystal. I went to Crystal about 2 years ago and saw the owner of the Chelsea football team there (with 6 security guards surrounding his table), shared a bathroom with Mel B from the Spice Girls, and saw that Hayden whatsherface (short term memory failure, another sign). Not that I'm a HUGE celebrity follower, but I mean, if these guys think it's good enough, who am I to think otherwise?

Last night, when we got to Merah, what a total joke (imho). If it weren't for the company, I would've walked right on out of there. Completely revamped, Merah was packed to the brim with 18 year old rich kids at tables grinding and dry humping each other. What once was a beautiful light show on the ceiling, became a dingy, unkept, unorganised, teen fest. I swear Mass was the oldest person in there, well except for the odd grandfather who came with his choice prostie that night (I'm kidding...uhhh, no I'm not). Luckily one of my good friends, and our friends eventually walked in (Anthony, I hate you), and in combination with the good mixes of house and rnb, I was pretty happy. The slight inebriation also helped things move along.

Maybe I just need to accept that life does move on, and days of dry humping and i'm-too-cool-for-school-that's-why-I'm-wearing-my-sunglasses-indoors, are the cool new things to do and I'm just hating on the better way of living because I can't keep up.

Then again, maybe not and if I do choose to go out, I'll just find another club to frequent.





Wearing: Maurie and Eve gold top, AA leggings, Roberta Freymann necklace, vintage gold bracelet, Pearl earrings from mommy, Cartier tank watch, Mac lipstick, and BCBG Mendel wedges

Ciao ciao, from the old age home.