Regretfully I appear to be at that age, when one's facebook page gets clogged up with friends' engagement, hen-do and BIG day photos, not to mention serene newborns and mischievous toddlers. No wonder I am hating 25 - I thought we were modern women in a modern age, increasingly career focused and marrying later. Sometimes I think from looking around my extended group of pals you wouldn't know we'd made it safely out of the 1950s.
Anyway I digress. I am perpetually amused by how much women's high fashion is something that the average male can never come to grips with. Whilst we coo over Carrie Bradshaw's inspired ensembles, our boyfriends/brothers/male mates grimace in disapproval thinking she looks more mad aunt than mad-hot. We applaud her character's big native New Yorker balls, while they think she got lost in someone's dressing up box or that Patricia Field should lay off the crack. This leads me to my conclusion that the true style mavericks among women dress for themselves/ other women. There are girls who dress for men; that's why Jane Norman exists. Anywhooooo, I'm no Carrie, and I have my 'classic' days but I can only date a man who appreciates me in a paisley bandana with a mint green manicure, which narrows my pool of eligibles quite dramatically, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
|Leandra Medine aka The Man Repeller flreaking out on her wedding day|
|Resplendent in frou frou fairytale white Marchesa|
|The girls from Dannijo made the most beautiful bridesmaids|
|Humour prevails with these bejewelled flatform kicks, emblazoned with her and her new hubby's initials!|