The Swelle Life

The Worst Interior Design of 1974

"Hi, Sharon? Today I finally found shoes to match my toilet! Is your telephone leaking, too?"

Awful interior design is awesomely entertaining, mainly because we know it began as someone's vision of a beautiful and idyllic living space, and it's fun to try to get our heads around that. The 1970s - a decade I did experience nearly in its entirety - was pretty much a revolt against good taste, typified by snot-green household appliances and casino-inspired carpet and walls that my husband thinks were designed to mask 'fluid' stains. (Don't think about that one too long.)

The worst/best thing about these photos put together by omodern.com are the models. I don't know what was going on there, but this was the decade that gave us the 'Big Momma' underpants from Sears for plus size ladies, and Welcome Back, Kotter as network primetime viewing. Different things were deemed acceptable back then, such as a pervy little boy trying to get a peek under sis' skirt:

You could projectile vomit in this bathroom and no one would know.

"Go on Lois, bend over and pour us more drinks. Feel free to make a phone call while you're down there and take your time doing it."

   

"Honey, I know how hard you try, but your cooking smells like horse shit."

Naked and cowering over the tub, Carol found the yellow and brown bathroom fixtures multiplying at an alarming rate.

 

A room so hideous it frightened children to death.

Exhibitionist Butterflies

These butterflies are doing rudies!

If you like the idea of butterflies flying all around you, you'd love the Butterfly Convervatory in Niagara Falls. I was just there for the second time, I tried to take my daughter three years ago when we were home visiting thinking she'd love it, but she decided right after I paid for the tickets that she wanted to bypass this little pseudo-rainforest wonderland and go straight to the cafe. This year she actually came in despite an exaggerated aversion to 'mini beasts' (what they sweetly call insects in England, at least in primary school), she thinks they're either going to bite you or poop on you. But after a few minutes she was catching them on her finger and laughing from their tickles (which she probably imagined). Some like to land on you and stick there for a very long time while others are very elusive. You know of course it's usually the plainest ones that hang around and the most colourful and beautiful glide by repeatedly just to tease you before they flee to the depths of the foliage. However, one species is quite deceiving, it looks like a big brown moth when its wings are up, and then when laid down shades of vibrant blue are revealed (you can see it below in the boy's hands).

These lovelies are quite difficult to photograph but I was persistent, and perspiring - they keep it so humid in there!

So the deal with the header photo...I know, how rude. At first I saw them high up on a leaf and thought 'Wow, look how those two are positioned, and they're just staying like that!' They were among the most striking of the species represented and I couldn't believe I had time to get shots of two beautiful butterflies at the same time, in such an interesting  mirror configuration. Then one moved a bit, and all of a sudden I felt like a total perv taking pictures. Imagine, doing that right out there in front of everyone, in front of children (I was actually the only one who noticed, no one else was looking up and they totally missed the show).  But don't worry, I told on them as I was leaving. I lost my innocence that day.

And I'd just like to mention again (I said this in my first post on the conservatory three years ago and nothing has changed) that when you get dumped into the gift shop upon exiting the butterfly habitat, you see that they have all kinds of butterfly 'art' - with real dead butterflies! Is that not wrong? They even warn you not to buy butterfly products in the film they show beforehand. Now does that make any sense?

 
  Chow time!

When I first came in, many were landing on the floor and just sitting there. It made me so nervous they were going to get stepped on that I almost had to leave. Most were seen and people were picking them up. Many of them didn't mind at all.

 

"My curly tongue is bigger than your curly tongue!"

   

     
      

Photos © The Swelle Life

Cupcake Monday! The April Fools Edition

I would just like to preface this post for those only seeing it now, and say this is the worst Cupcake Monday post I have ever done. I am aware of it.

I'm a little late on this (imagine that?!) but I didn't think of looking to see what was out there for April Fools cupcakes until today. A recent post would qualify, those neat corn-on-the cob cuppies that looked pretty real would trick people, but really they'd be mostly delighted. There's not a whole lot of foolin', is there?

So in the spirit of the day, how about instead of pleasantly surprising someone, we try to make them feel stupid? (For next year of course, unless there's a May Fools Day I'm unaware of). That's what it's about, right? It's called April Fools for a reason. A bit of humiliation, but not so much that your pal's usual good nature will be compromised.

I'm bothering to post this at this time not because I really want you to make your loved ones cry; rather the idea behind the cupcake above is a neat one that is useful for kids. And a good prank for adult friends. And by good I mean really mediocre. (Speaking of kids, I came across a post for a 'fake fried egg' - it's pound cake (the toast) with vanilla yogurt and half an apricot (the egg) and a commenter complained "My son did not find this funny at all. It ruined his day. I hope you're all happy!" It's clear where he gets his sense of humour from.)

This is a mini meatloaf made to look like a cupcake, obviously. Give it to your bestie and she'll likely take a bite, make a face like Laura Dern crying, and then when she realises what it actually is and that it's normal food, finish it. Happy ending! When it comes to your child you have a choice whether you tell them what it really is before they eat it. If you enjoy seeing the fruit of your loins gurn, cringe and collapse in sobs, say nothing! And then you can leave me a nasty comment about how I've ruined your day. If you'd rather not risk destroying your child's trust in 10 seconds and make them food phobic, you can present the cupcake as what it is - a cute way to enjoy meatloaf.

The 'frosting' is coloured mashed potatoes (I have to admit that seems a bit gross to me) but who knows, it might go over. Want to try? Find the recipe at Family Fun 

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS: ACTOR TIM POTTER

Tim Potter would be a glorious Mad Hatter. He is creative, experimental and intensely loyal to his craft, he seems to relish in a challenge, having played many diverse roles over the years. He was just as at home playing Captain Hook in Finding Neverland (starring Johnny Depp) as he was portraying Spanish genius and serial lunatic Salvador Dali at the Royal Court. He stretched his skills even further playing Blanche DuBois in a production A Streetcar named Desire.

I met Tim at the Carlisle College of Art in the 1970s, we were both in the foundation course and became friends. He was striking, intelligent and hilarious. We had to do a bit of everything, and when Theatre came around Tim and I were in the same group. As luck would have it, it was Panto season. To my humiliation and horror I was chosen to play the Princess to 200 screaming kids twice daily for a week of torture. I was overweight, not pretty, a party animal and it was the eve of Punk. I was poured into an ugly Laura Ashley smock dress, hairpiece and make up that would have horrified the worst drag Queen. Tim played a brilliant Dick Dastardly type villain that was so scary one little boy had an accident when Tim went into the audience. As I climbed reluctantly up a wobbly high scaffold tower, stuck my head out of the "window" and cried help, one kid went as far as to shout "I wouldn’t marry her if you paid me!"

It was in this Theatre that one lunchtime I found Tim playing, very loudly, a fantastic record by a band called The Sex Pistols, and before I could say "Anarchy" I was hooked and soon morphed into "Looby”, the bow-loving colourful punk, egged on to be more OTT by Tim and his childhood friend Richard Ostell. When we went home at weekends we went to Maxim's disco in Barrow where once a week they had punk night. If the bands turned up (in those years it was always if) they would play to a handful of people - Tim and friends pogo-ing madly and Richard and I posing.

When Foundation finished Tim and I headed South - Tim to the Central School of Speech and Drama me to Ravensboune which fortunately was near Bromley, the town that the infamous" Bromley Contingent" which included Siouxsie, Steve Severin, Billy idol and Philip Salon, had put on the punk map. We had great nights up in the West End and at Croydon Greyhound. One afternoon, Tim and a friend popped a note through actor John Hurt’s door (he lived opposite) inviting him for coffee, and to their amazement he came and was just great. What a gent, what an actor! He was filming the Elephant Man at the time and told them David Lynch had shown the cast Eraserhead on set.

One of the last times I saw Tim in person was at a soiree celebrating his birthday held by his friend Rupert Everett at his flat in Chelsea. Tim was sitting in a rocking chair dressed as Miss Haversham, full of great expectations. (HA couldn’t resist!) That was the last memory I had of him until recently when we got back in touch, so very Tim. I spent many years living out of the country and so we had lots to catch up on. He told me that around 1979 he was a member of Acme Acting, explaining that the troupe would take the play to people’s homes. I was so interested and asked him if he would write a piece about his experiences way back then. He did and sent me some fabulous, startling pictures of himself in some of the productions he has been in. Enjoy!

Judith (as 'Looby') with Tim Potter (far left) and Richard Ostell, 1977

Over to Tim Potter...

Tim Potter as Captain Hook in Finding Neverland, 2004

ACME ACTING performed plays in people’s homes. That is, we used the whole of the house, and the audience followed us room to room. The doorbell rang, and that was the start of the show. In Psycho, Norman Bates would enter, showing his guest, Marion Crane, around "The Bates Motel", i.e., your flat. Speaking dialogue from the movie, he'd fix her a snack of milk and cookies from your fridge, and chat to her over the kitchen table, with you watching, sometimes inches from the actors’ faces. When Marion took her shower (Marion was me, in black 1950s corset and knickers - well, I lacked the required female "bits"), I remember one householder, in a panic, begging us to stop. She got really freaked out. We didn't stop. How could you stop in the middle of a murder? In fact, we generally had the upper hand in the house, running up and down stairs, rifling through drawers and "personal things", using cutlery, serving up meals. The main shows, Psycho and Streetcar Named Desire, were played as realistically as possible (despite the inherent absurdity), so audiences ideally would be moved as well as amused. It was helped by being acted in real rooms and hallways, and peoples' homes took on a new dimension as backdrops to the drama. Your washing machine might go into a spin cycle, noisily interrupting one of Blanche and Stanley's scenes in Streetcar. Your pet dog might get very friendly with Norman Bates’ leg. Would you ever sleep soundly in your bed again, after witnessing Stanley rape Blanche there? (to the sound of jungle drums.) Would you ever step into that shower again? We left fake blood on the bathroom tiles, and people with a whole host of cracked memories.

ACME ACTING were Jim, Tim and Louis, recent graduates of the hated (to us anyway) Central School of Speech and Drama, a very conservative place. We needed to rebel against that authority (they'd expelled our friend Rupert Everett, so what the hell did they know?) and the youthful mood of the times was punkish, experimental, in a way perhaps unknown today. Our theatre company reflected that. It was a surprise hit, having a life of its own, and we performed to a lot of thrilled audiences - although it could go wrong, and I'm thinking of one Psycho to a solitary lady and dog in a council flat, where the performance was greeted only with a depressed silence. Ah, well...

For Tim Potter's full acting credits go to IMDb. Tim now lives in Brighton and is writing a children's book - perhaps a copy will find its way to the child of the child Tim scared all those years back? Alas that we will never know but in true dramatic style let’s assume it will!

    Tim Potter and ACME ACTING in i-D magazine

Tim, Jim and Louis of ACME ACTING

Apocalypse Now

Psycho

  Psycho

ACME ACTING photos courtesy Tim Potter; photo of Judith Frankland by Denise Grayson

Cupcake Monday! 'Those are cakes?' Part 1

In two recent Cupcake Mondays I said I was going to show more cakes from Sweet Disposition, they are truly spectacular and some are just mind-bogglingly impressive. Take this Steampunk birthday cake - the intricate detail, the shading, the open latch! What? How??!! Tate, I know you're only four but I hope you appreciate what this lady did for you and you didn't slobber all over it when you blew out those homemade candle things on the side there.

To put any doubts to rest as to whether this really was cake, she posted this:

I know, no one wants to see it this way. It's like when C-3P0 gets taken apart in Star Wars. Very unsettling. Do you see the three layer fudge cake in there? That just might be worth the carnage.

Here's another crazy good cake:

Vroom! Into my mouth!

She created this Aston Martin car cake for a VIP client of the Hilton Adelaide. His wife requested a replica of her husband's car for a surprise party. Bets that he stared at it and didn't know what it was? Not many (straight) guys would be aware that you can make cakes like this. But your boyfriend watches Cake Boss with you every week, you say? That's nice, but probably not typical.

It's a chocolate mudcake with a few non edible bits - the side windows and the skewers holding the tyres in. Not only does this guy have a better car than us, he's got a better cake, too. That's really not fair.

While 'Hilton VIP' gets a cool car cake, poor Gary gets some kind of message about his bathroom habits, in edible form. Eeewww. Just don't sit down, Gary.

From the funny folks at Kandy Cakes.

And we'll be seeing a lot more next week from Kandy Cakes because I've just discovered how incredible they are, too!

Here's a skateboard cake made for 7 year-old Ethan and when they delivered it the kids asked if they could ride it - they had no idea it was cake. See?!!!

I have to go eat cake now so tune in next week for more, including a bong cake! (I was baking it for a friend, mum!)

Boo! Happy Halloween!

 

Enjoy your sweets but don't do as I did and go nuts on pre-Halloween jumbo Haribos - I'm still dealing with the self-loathing and the feeling that I've got a 1kg wad of gelatin in my stomach. 

Happy Halloween! Are you dressing up? I'm not but figure having to do a full-on Bride of Frankenstein costume with wig, makeup and custom-made dress (thanks Judith!) for Baby Swelle's FOUR parties is adequate commitment to promoting the Halloween spirit!

If anyone has any miracle scar treatments for children please share - that cut on her face ain't makeup.

Cupcake Monday: Autumn in a Cupcake

Pinecone and Maple Leaf cupcakes from Saucemania's Flickr

 

I guess I was feeling nostalgic for Cupcake Monday. It's been a few months since I retired it after a year of weekly eye candy in a wrapper and today I just felt the urge to do it again. I had no idea how popular Cupcake Monday actually was until I received a flood of emails from readers (politely) expressing their disappointment that it was over. So for you, I will have more regular cupcake posts starting with this one, dedicated to autumn. A walk on a crisp, sunny autumn day surrounded by flame and cherry tinted maple leaves is one of life's greatest pleasures. (Except when you slip on  wet leaves and fall on your ass and walk away oblivious that some of them are stuck to it.)

 

Guaranteed sugar fix: Maple syrup cupcakes with fondant maple leaves from Gillyflower Jewellery

Too bad no credit was given where I found these chocolate tree cupcakes - they're so neat!

Laser cut leaf cupcake wrappers from Fancy Flours

Regretsy: Making Fun For Good

If Rodarte's second mistake was to collaborate with MAC on a makeup collection named after the notorious Mexican city of Juarez, their first was to create a pair of webby yarn tights that inspired these knock-offs.

Regretsy. Heard of it? Probably. But if not, you know those movies or novels where there's a horrific torture scene and you wonder of the writer, 'How could anyone conceive of such a depraved and hideous act? What is wrong with you?' Well, imagine that person took that idea and instead of writing it down, they looked around their house (or dump, compost heap or graveyard) and made it into an equally disturbing object. And tried to sell it on Etsy or some other kind of DIY online marketplace. Regretsy's April Winchell, AKA Helen Killer, finds these WTF? offenders, along with an endless selection of just simply bad ideas, or nasty executions of these ideas (see above) and brings them to us daily, in hilarious blog form. What makes it so funny is Killer's astute and creative responses to the items, as seen above (that's the kind of creativity we want, folks!), including the contributions of her readers - a winning bid for an Etsy Alchemy project to paint Lady Gaga devouring a unicorn while paparrazi snap shots has to be the ultimate.

Now, I love Etsy. The great thing about them is they provide anyone and everyone the means to sell their handmade creations. The bad thing about them is they provide anyone and everyone the means to sell their handmade creations. Sometimes democracy backfires. Stalin is grinning smuggly somewhere. See:

Yes, after I included Stalin in my post I searched his name on Etsy and not to my surprise, I found a short list of Stalin-related things, such as this matryoshka doll set of Russian leaders. (Does anyone know what that first one says? That splotchy head couldn't belong to anyone but Gorbachev - I loved that guy! - but that sure is a funny spelling of his name. And Stalin's. I'm obviously missing something here. And FYI: if you search Google images for pictures of Mikhail Gorbachev you'll find Ashton Kutcher in a camel coat.)

The point of this post was to highlight something that we don't usually get alongside our fun-makers: good-hearted compensation. Regretsy gives back to those who provide the unintentional humour, or horror. Well, maybe not to the person who thought a fascinator made with the real skull of a cat was a desirable item to add to one's accessory drawer (though the seller may feel proud that it's been filed deep in my subconcious, awaiting a guest appearance in one of my upcoming nightmares. Oh geez, I just heard a cat meowing outside. That nightmare is happening tonight).

All profits from Regretsy's merchandise go toward helping charities - over $10,000 so far and counting - and directly to Etsy sellers in need, such as Veronica of Ronnie’s Tender Heart (her Etsy shop is here) who is battling leukemia for the third time at age 22. Her friends have set up a shop to sell bracelets to help fund her medical bills not covered by insurance. She is currently in ICU fighting pneumonia.

Regretsy is running two auctions of bags that include fun and goofy Etsy merchandise as well as Regretsy, the book. Get the full details here.

April Winchell: I have added you to my list of smart and funny chicks that make me blow snot.

The Dream State Fashion of Salvador Dalí

 
Mae West lips sofa, Salvador Dalí, 1937
 

 

I wrote this article last week for Models and Moguls and I'm quite surprised it's taken me this long to do so. I was a full-on freak for Surrealism when I discovered it in high school, the idea of this collective of European adults doing things that seemed juvenile but were actually challenging conventional notions of what is art, what is good taste, what is reality, how long and stiff can one guy's moustache get before it pokes another's eye out, validated me as the 16 year-old who fit in but never felt like it. There was something more to things than meets the eye, I knew and they knew it. But no around me seemed to care about that and they wondered why I did. The synaesthesia must have played a major role in this but at the end of the day we all need to connect with something. I don't know exactly why strange juxtapositions are so intriguing, maybe some of us want to live in a perpetual dream state, but if university dorm room walls are any indication, people love a melting clock. 

The following article is a superficial rundown of Salvador Dalí's contribution to fashion. Dalí is a favourite of mine (though the teenage thrill is now gone), as he is a favourite of many for his incredible technical ability with painting and his intriguing dreamscapes. And undoubtedly he is loved for his larger-than-life personality and his other ventures - artistic and commercial pursuits for which the scope became increasingly broad, as hilariously illustrated by his appearance on What's My Line? in the 1950s:

 

The most notorious, prolific and ultimately commercial of the Surrealists – that revolutionary group of artists, poets and provocateurs that grew out of Dadaism in 1920s Paris – was undoubtedly Salvador Dalí. The Spanish Catalan best known for his masterly technical skill as a painter and perversely sexualized subjects had his hand in just about anything he could put his name on, due in part to the push from his wife Gala who was keen to collect a paycheck and not so bothered by the virtue of integrity. However, the signed blank lithographs and commercials for Alka Seltzer aside, most of Dalí’s forays into ventures outside of his main discipline were inspired, original, and hugely influential.

Case in point: anything we see with lips these days could be considered a direct reference to Dali’s iconic Mae West Lips Sofa from 1937 and his Ruby Lips brooch, created in 1949, also based on the sexy actress’ famous bouche. British designer Lulu Guinness is one who owes him her trademark padded lips clutch.

The wildly eccentric artist brought his most famous, Freudian-inspired and dreamlike motifs to life as three dimensional objects through sculpture, furniture, jewellery and fashion. Dali loved fashion and displayed his flamboyant style in his dress and the way he wore his moustache – long, black, waxed straight out to the sides and curled at the ends. He was friends with two of fashion’s most legendary designers, Paris-based rivals Coco Chanel, who inspired him to design clothes, and the avant-garde Elsa Schiaparelli. It was even rumoured that Chanel had an affair with the young Dali, in the days when his facial hair was still neat and understated (one couldn’t imagine the fuss-free designer dealing with the impractical thing that moustache was to become).

The Italian Schiaparelli was hugely influenced by Dada and Surrealism and incorporated the bizarre juxtapositions that were characteristic of these movements into her designs. One can see why Chanel referred to her as ‘that Italian artist who makes clothes’, though this was likely not meant to be a complement from the outspoken and fiercely competitive designer. Dali’s influence has been identified in Schiaparelli designs such as the lamb-cutlet hat and a 1936 day suit with pockets simulating a chest of drawers, based on his painting The Anthropomorphic Chest of Drawers, which was later referenced in a dress he created with Christian Dior in 1950.

 

Skeleton dress. Elsa Schiaparelli collaboration with Salvador Dalí, 1938.

Collaborations between Schiaparelli and Dali produced four iconic pieces that were clearly influenced by the artist:

Lobster Dress, 1937. This simple white silk evening dress with a crimson waistband featured a large lobster painted by Dali onto the skirt. The lobster is one of Dali’s best known motifs which he began incorporating into works from 1934, most notably New York Dream-Man Finds Lobster in Place of Phone, 1935,  and the mixed-media Lobster Telephone, 1936. His design for Schiaparelli was interpreted into a fabric print by the leading silk designer Sache. It was famously worn by Wallis Simpson in series of photographs by Cecil Beaton before her marriage to Edward VIII.

Tears Dress, 1938. A slender pale blue evening gown printed with a Dali design of trompe l’oeil rips and tears was worn with a thigh-length veil with real tears carefully cut out and lined in pink and magenta. The print was intended to give the illusion of torn animal flesh, the tears printed to represent fur on the reverse of the fabric and suggest that the dress was made of animal pelts turned inside out. Figures in ripped, skin-tight clothing suggesting flayed flesh appeared in three of Dali’s 1936 paintings. This puts to rest any notion that the ‘ripped' trend is a relatively recent innovation.

Skeleton Dress, 1938. Designed for the Circus Collection, this stark black crepe dress used trapunto quilting to create padded ribs, spine and leg bones. Many designers today have referenced this dress in their designs.

Shoe Hat, 1937. In 1933, Dali was photographed by his wife Gala with one of her slippers balanced on his head. In 1937 he sketched designs for a shoe hat for Schiaparelli which she featured in her Fall-Winter 1937-38 collection. The hat, shaped like a woman’s high heeled shoe, had the heel standing straight up and the toe tilted over the wearer’s forehead. This hat was worn by Gala, Schiaparelli herself, and by the Franco-American editor of the French Harpers Bazaar, heiress Daisy Fellowes, who was one of Schiaparelli’s best clients.

Dali also designed the Aphrodisiac Jacket of 1936 and several pieces of jewellery for women. In 1981 he drew upon his painting Apparition of the Face of the Aphrodite of Knidos in a Landscape to create bottles for the perfume Salvador Dali Homme et Femme. Dali had evolved (for lack of a better word) from artist to one of the most intriguing and influential brands of the 20th century, and the reverberations of his work will likely continue indefinitely – if our endless fascination with melting clocks is any indication.

Joan Jett Shaped my Wardrobe Choices (well, once)

A recent post by Wendy Brandes that mentioned The Runaways got me all nostalgic about my pre-teen obsession with Joan Jett. (Well, obsession is a little strong. I thought she was really, really cool. It's not like I was going through her garbage or anything.) When I first saw the album cover for I Love Rock-n-Roll in the mall record shop I thought 'Whew, now that is a look.' I do believe she was the inspiration behind my choice to wear a hot pink blazer (or buy it in the first place) to my first concert which I'd really rather not reveal! It was, however, the first time I had ever seen a guy walking around with an Adidas bag announcing in a repetitive drone "Acid and hash. Acid and hash. Acid and hash." My dad was with us and I half expected him to say 'Alright then, night's over!' and drive us back over the border to home in Canada (we were at Rich Stadium in Buffalo. It was a metal band and I'm leaving the hints at that.) But I think he was pretty sure we would get through the night without becoming addicts and being turned out. Luckily, he was right.

Back to  Joan Jett! So, Wendy got me watching videos and I'd completely forgotten about her song Do You Want to Touch Me which I loved even more than I Love Rock-n-Roll, if that were possible. (Before I scraped enough pennies together so I could buy the album, me and my brother sat by our little radio/cassette player, waiting to hear I Love Rock-n-Roll on the radio so we could record it. I said 'Johnny, we may have to wait a long time to hear it, but we'll get it.' He nodded slowly, with big eyes. And it was the next song! The radio gods had mercy on us, we would have waited all day.) As for Do You Want to Touch Me, well, either I never saw that video or it made no impression on me because when I watched it it was all new to me. And hilarious. There's a scene in the end where the guys in her band, the lesser exalted Blackhearts, are standing on a fake beach singing the chorus and there's a guy walking by with a metal detector. So 80s. And Joan Jett flashes us repeatedly in a very skimpy bikini. I had no idea what those words meant then. I didn't want to know. "Touch me there?" Where? In the garden? On the elbow? Germany? 

I'm really curious how these songs will sound to someone too young to have heard them the first time around. I still like 'em.

It's Just an Empty Toilet Roll, Reckon With it!

My husband's nemesis. You know what I mean.

Chanel for Target Collection Set to Launch

We’ve seen Alexander McQueen, Rodarte, Viktor & Rolf, and Commes de Garcons, all shocking high fashion brand collaborations with high street chains. So it really was only a matter of time before Chanel jumped into the high street/designer collab game, wasn’t it?

It’s not that much a stretch, considering Karl Lagerfeld was the first to join forces with a retail giant to bring luxury fashion to the masses when his namesake capsule collection for H&M debuted in 2004. And it’s no surprise that Lagerfeld teamed with American discount retail giant Target for the legendary fashion house’s first foray into watering down its offerings – considering a sister brand hasn’t even been established – rather than work with H&M again. He had accused the popular high street chain of ‘snobbery’ due to their limited number of pieces per style from his range; he found the offerings too ‘exclusive’. It’s little wonder this kind of elitism offended Kaiser Karl’s tender sensibilities; if there’s anything the Diet Coke butler-employing designer is, it’s democratic.

The deal with Target involves the manufacturing of what some industry insiders have referred to as a ‘crapload’ of dresses, suits, separates and logoed t-shirts. Lagerfeld says that while the Chanel for Target plain white tees with black double Cs emblazoned across the front won’t quite match the quality of Chanel’s plain white tees with black double Cs emblazoned across the front that retail for $800, he can promise that they will most certainly be as good as, or “nearly as good as the ones you find on Canal St.”

Fashion Constipation, an up-and-coming blogger who posts about her difficulties getting dressed every morning, a condition for which she receives government benefits in France, was granted a lucky preview of the sketches and had this to say about the collection: “I always thought I was going to have to wait for my grandmother to die before I ever got to own a real Chanel tweed jacket. Now I can abandon such evil thoughts thanks to Target. Though from what I’ve seen it’s more tweed-like than actual tweed. And I probably won’t be able to pass it down to my grandchildren. Mon dieu, I’m just hoping it will survive a dry cleaning.”

Chanel for Target collection is set to launch…never.

April Fools. If you hadn't yet figured that out. ♥

A Revolutionary Ironing Board That Makes Ironing Easy? Don't Tease

Okay, these pictures of the Leifheit StarLine Airbase ironing board don't exactly illustrate awesomeness, and that's because the awesomeness is hidden in the board itself. What makes this board different is an integrated fan that has two settings, suction and inflation. And you plug it in.

The suction keeps the fabric close to the board so it doesn't move around on you, and the inflation mode blows air upwards through the board, causing delicate garments to balloon so you can hover your iron over the surface to steam creases out without contact (no more ironing over a tea towel!). And they say it's ideal for smoothing out fiddly areas like collars, cuffs and darts. If that part is true, it would be worth it for that alone, if you don't mind paying the £199 price tag. And who would? People with lots of money to spare do all of their own ironing.

This is being sold at Lakeland in the UK and they are good for selling products they've tried and love, so if they say it works, I'd be inclined to believe them.

If you are like me, and most people I would assume, you think ironing sucks. You know that the shirt, pants or whatever you are trying to get wrinkles out of is going to look worse after you're finished. You think 'Ah yes, I actually succeeded this time, these pants are as smooth as a Ken doll's bottom.' Then you turn them over and realise that you've creased the hell out of the back. Swears ensue and you feel defeated. And don't even get me started on those brown or black marks that the iron sometimes leaves behind - the ironing plate looks perfectly clean yet there are stains all over your clothes, and it's always the white ones!

It's not just me, right? (If you are a master of ironing clothes please keep this enviable fact to yourself, I can't bear to hear it.) And now off I go to iron my daughter's school pinafores which I was beyond foolish for buying - each of the skirts have pleats. What on earth was I thinking.

Abominable: Chanel RTW Fall 2010

Chanel haute couture is always a dream, and you know my love affair with the legendary house, but Karl Lagerfeld's last two ready-to-wear collections have left me nonplussed, confused. While everyone wants to wear fur snuggies (you know you do) it was a shock to see Karl's favourite boys strutting the catwalk (and just standing there, too) kitted out in them.

The man who once declared "In a meat-eating world, wearing leather for shoes and clothes and even handbags, the discussion of fur is childish" and that "those beasts would kill us if they could" appeared to be waging an all-out war against glossy coated creatures with his latest collection. (And he was right you know, I got a threatening stare down from a mink in a zoo once, it even did the 'finger across the throat' gesture. But with a tiny paw, of course.)

But surprise! It was all faux! (Yeah, we could kind of tell on the boys who looked like giant, coifed teddy bears.) Karl's a good guy after all!

There were only a handful of looks that I liked (the horror), minus the boots borrowed from Napolean, and here they are:

 

 

 

I don't know, do I even like this last one or did I choose it because it reminds me of good ol' Chanel and didn't look like this:

Faux fur hip waders!

Faux fur skirts, thick ones!

Faux fur pants and man purse or as they called them on Seinfeld, the 'European carry-all'

 

Faux fur hot pants!

Faux fur long pants!

 

And the 'hooker from the Flintsones' outfit, great for go-go dancing in Alaska:

Photos: WWD.com
 

 

 

Mad Men Barbies: Now You Can Play with Don Draper

Well, what would a hit show (or anything else that's wildly popular) be without exploitation from the marketing people? A lot more respectable, that's what! Mattel has brought us Mad Men 'barbies'. And I'm sorry, but Don Draper - the one you most want to resemble his real life doppelganger - appears to have a cigar and swizzle stick stuck right up his bum. Roger Sterling looks a little more relaxed while Betty is sweet Betty, but Joan Holloway's doll represents the one instance in the history of Barbie manufacturing where the proportions are UNDERemphasized.

One question - where are the cigarettes? It's not Mad Men without the smokes. And mistresses. 

Oh, and they're only $75. Really.

Source: Vulture

Cupcake Monday! The London Edition (plus beefs with the Thai gov't and Liz Hurley)

I had zero free time while in London at the weekend for fashion week but there was no way I was leaving sans macarons. Especially as lovely Aimee told me that Pierre Herme just recently opened a boutique in Selfridges, and dare I say, they are even more delicious, fresh, and complex in flavours than Laduree. So I decided that Saturday was not going to be a repeat of Friday where I had not even a cracker to eat by 7 pm. Add two champagne receptions to an empty stomach and that's why I later tweeted "I'm drunk at fashion week." I hit the first restaurant I saw once I left Somerset House for reasons of convenience and curiosity - this Thai place had a sandwich board outside which read: "Awarded Best Thai Restaurant in the UK by the Thai Government". Such a ridiculous claim obviously aimed at unwitting tourists made me laugh and I guessed that the food was likely horrid. So naturally I went in and ordered five courses! It was fair at best - actually the Pad Thai was rather tasty - but everything else was kind of meh and the steamed rice was mushy and not even consistently mushy. Come on, there's no excuse for that! And I had to ask for utensils. I must write to the Thai government's Minister of Foreign Eateries and lodge a complaint.

A cake topped with 10 cupcakes from Lola's at Selfridges

So I made a point to actually eat lunch Saturday (by the way, it is not at all like me to not eat, it was the result of an overpacked schedule - I like to have two lunches!) and went to the food hall at Selfridges knowing I'd get something good, and also pick out some macarons! I got a box, one of each flavour. How could I leave any behind? I don't know why I didn't take a photo but they were gorgeous. I ate one dozen in three days. That's not too piggy is it? It's better than one day which I feared might have been the actual lifespan. When I later ate one at the window counter I noticed the person beside me staring, then realised I was whispering 'Oh God, Oh God', over and over. Yes, they are that good.

On the way to the Pierre Herme boutique I walked by a cupcake extravaganza at Lola's and saw my next Cupcake Monday feature. They were happy for me to take photos and there was a glare off the glass display case but you can see how yummy they were. Anyone for a giant £45 cupcake? They've got three kinds!

There were so many temptations but I left without having one, I couldn't eat it right then and a cupcake is not going to travel well!

So what's this about Liz Hurley and beef? Well, while queueing to pay for my lunch at Selfridges I found myself beside an impulse purchase display that was filled with these:

I started laughing and gasping at the same time which looks and sounds great when you're alone in public, I just couldn't believe Liz Hurley - the woman with an accent more uptight and posh than the Queen - was doing beef jerky. Was this a joke? I nearly asked the person in front of me, but then why would Selfridges be selling little packets of beef jokes? I had to buy one to show people. It was still in my official London Fashion Week canvas tote (nice job by Mulberry) when I set out at 8 am the next morning for the 9 am Betty Jackson show (cruel guys, cruel) and I knew I wouldn't be eating until who knows when...so I opened it up on the tube and I hate all 100 calories of it. I have to say, if you've got to eat beef jerky, this would probably be your best bet. It wasn't gross and was nicely spiced. I doubt I'd buy it again and I still think it's weird that Liz Hurley is sprawled out all come hither with a window display of pieces of dehydrated beef above her head, but it was good for what it was. (But I'm still waiting for Liz to jump out and shout 'Gotcha!')

Fashion Can be Fun(ny): Teddy Tinling's South Pacific Show, 1956

Last summer I did a piece on British designer and spy (you read right) Teddy Tinling, specifically his tennis couture back in the day when the stars of ladies' tennis didn't have Adidas and Nike sponsorship but rather had custom costumes made for each event. And Teddy was the man to go to.

Our Teddy, when not clandestinely gathering intelligence for the British government or making frilly panties to wear under tennis skirts (I'm SO serious!) was creating themed sportswear collections. And this is one of them.

Here we have some highlights from Tinling's 1956 South Pacific resort wear show in London, complete with accompanying narration that will seriously make you blow snot, especially when you hear it for yourself (the narrator could be an ancestor of South Park's Terrance and Philip).

"These two outfits give us food for thought for the tasty flavour":

Tasty flavour!!

"Even the sequins on Marianne’s playsuit are waterproof so that she can ride the surf in style, or hook her fisherman":

 

This outfit is called 'The Midnight Stranger' - not creepy at all!

"For couples who want to make sure everyone knows they are going out together, this double harlequin set makes it plain to see - though plain is not the word for the effect."

This is a great alternative for couples who are getting bored of their matching nylon windsuits:

 

"Fijian beach pyjamas like Shirley’s could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and makes the boyfriend throw in the towel."

To the ladies who have been patiently waiting for their feet shuffling boyfriends to propose: You just haven't let him see you in the right island-themed pyjamas, you silly goose!

I have to admit this heart shaped swimsuit is just so cute!

 

Oh my, how the front row has changed. No Anna Wintour, no Kanye, no starlet of the moment. But that one woman is a ringer for the Queen:

There's more fun(ny) fashion to come with even worse chauvinistic narration. Way worse!

This Dog Knows He's Better Than Us

This is Bobby Gorgeous, the cutest dog on the planet (except for yours, of course). He was just named Hot S*** of the Day at Dlisted (if you have tender sensibilities don't click!) a most prestigious award that has absolutely nothing to do with easy virtue but is a compliment nonetheless.

His bespectacled staredown seemed familiar and Dlisted's Michael K nailed it: Scott Storch. Yes, it's Scott Storch in dog form, minus the watch. Funny how something can work so well for a dog but not so much for a Miami-based music producer. I think it's because to be a dog and be laughed at is a good thing, but to be a human guy and evoke the same reaction? Not so much.

You can see Bobby Gorgeous in action here. Style-wise, I think he's stiff competition for Karl Lagerfeld's mini-mich teddy.

Photo source

The Greatest 80s Guy Look Ever, Courtesy Robert Downey Jr.

I know these pictures are the worst and that usually renders them banned from The Swelle Life but there is nothing good on the internets and I had to take my own from TV. And when I say "I had to" I mean I had to. Look. Look what Robert Downey Jr. is wearing in Weird Science, that 80s magnum opus from John Hughes (don't you still miss him?). I must have watched it 100 times since it came out. RDJ has mastered the preppy-dandy look which I just can't believe didn't catch on. That one yellow sock pulled high, khaki shorts with a studded belt and wait - do I see a fanny pack peeking out? - the neck all nicely wrapped up in supple white cotton, and nothing says 'Do me' like an abundance of brooches, especially on a guy. Still, was there ever anyone cuter?

And that reminds me of a man I saw on the streets of Torino a couple years ago. I wish you could see his purple silk ascot but I had to be discreet when I was taking this photo. As you can see he saw me and I just looked at the ground and coughed because I'm slick like that. That is one wicked look. You don't see that in England.

Bentheimer Landschaf: Of Another's Resemblance to Ourselves

Who is Bentheimer Landschaf? And the album title, how pretentious! Let's all put on our black turtlenecks and chelsea boots and ponder what this might mean.

Well, you can if you want, but none of it exists! It's a fun little exercise that Deanne from Dream Sequins passed along in which by using random entries on certain web pages you create an instant album cover. Want to play along? Here's what to do:

1 – Go to “wikipedia.” Hit “random… Read More”or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random. The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 – Go to “Random quotations”or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3. The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 – Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days. Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 – Use photoshop or similar (I used Picassa) to put it all together.

The blogger tag rules say to blog your album cover, include the instructions in your post and tag five people to do the same.

I'm going to follow Deanne's lead and put it to everyone, and if you want to share, include a link to your blog in the comments or email me your album cover at denise[at]theswellelife.com. Have fun!

By the way, here's what my band name means:

The Bentheimer Landschaf (also known as Landrace of Bentheim) is a breed of domesticated sheep found in Germany. This breed is a cross between German and Dutch heath sheep and a marsh sheep. It is primarily used for landscape preservation.

So now you know!

And the full quote is, with reference to Admiration:

"Our polite recognition of another's resemblance to ourselves."

Hmm...very interesting!

Noughties Haute Couture Pt. 2: Oh Balmain, How You've Changed

This is Balmain haute couture, spring 2001. So bland it hurts. It hurts bad.

In 2001, the house of Pierre Balmain was showing haute couture with Oscar de la Renta at the helm. Oscar's Ladies Who Lunch must have been dining on clear broth and water, holding the lemon for it's got too much zing. And why accessorise when the beige is already carrying the outfit into the outer limits of thrillsville? And the hair. The hair! This was 2001, not 1991. Hard to believe, eh? 

Look what they did to Raquel Zimmermann, who was 18 at the time:

And Raquel in a look from Balmain spring RTW 2009:

What a difference the choice of creative director makes. Christophe Decarnin has revived the struggling brand with too cool for school ready to wear but the prices are in serious need of review. It's all a bit silly and even insulting. You can't buy the shoes in the pic above anymore but they came with a price tag of around $2300. But that's a lot of bang for your buck considering it'll cost you $3000 for a glittery cotton t-shirt. It's got glitter!! 

I Look Like Nana Mouskouri

Before Lisa Loeb there was Nana Mouskouri, the first singer to dazzle us not just with her shrill velvet voice but her kick-ass black framed specs. I had to get glasses this year. I noticed I was getting a lot of eye strain and headaches when I was on the computer and realised I hadn't had an eye exam for about five years, so I went to an optician that had opened up in our neighbourhood. It was a pretty thorough exam with retinal imaging (eyeballs are gross) and a series of tests I've never had before in Canada (one of which I had to come back for the next day because my responses didn't make any sense!). I felt very responsible after having had the exam, kind of the way I felt after going to confession in Catholic school (where I once stole the sins of the guy before me - I could hear him through the door - because I didn't have enough sins of my own to confess and I didn't want the priest to think I was holding back. Funny, I didn't see the irony in that at the time).

I've always been able to see super far, I can read signs that only Superman can see (yes, I'm bragging a bit but let me have it as it's all I got) but the flipside of that is a tendency to be short sighted and therefore close-up reading became my kryptonite. I was going to take my prescription to some hipster optician that sells the kinds of frames that are guaranteed to present you to the world as an aesthete who is as discerning as you are blind, but I saw a simple pair of black frames, tried them and said 'This is good enough!' They were in the designer section but I'd never heard of the maker, Janet Reger, who I've since found out is a lingerie designer (not bad, either).

And now every time I look in the mirror I see Nana Mouskouri looking back at me. Which could probably be said for any brown hair/brown eyed girl who wears black framed glasses. But I don't think Nana self-photographed her album covers in the mirror. And of course it's blurry but in the clear ones I looked insane. I'm not particularly vain, as this shot proves, but I do have some standards. And apparently a fuzzy face falls well within them.

I'll Never be Hip...

I leave you tonight with a treat. If you haven't yet seen this gem of a promo from Rachel Antonoff who makes the most darling dresses and cardies and skirts and tops - oh, she's just so swell - it's a must-see. And it's got Alia Shawkat who you'd know as Maeby from Arrested Development and she's brilliant, as you'd expect.

Below is the Top That scene from the 80s movie Teen Witch that Antonoff is spoofing/paying homage to/reminding us how there was no time like the 80s and if you were born too late, you really missed out. Yeah, I'm old. But I grew up at a time where stuff like this seemed cool. Get your head around that. And those moves are all kinds of wicked. I do believe that was the girl who played Carla Tortelli's son's girlfriend on Cheers. That show was all kinds of wicked, too. After Diane left.

Vintage Beaded Dresses and Parking Violations

I visited The Cat's Meow when I was home visiting Toronto in the summer, it's my favourite brick and mortar vintage shop. And here's why. It was one of the few things I got to do between getting strep throat twice while home. I popped in to see what was new and gorgeous (everything) and found myself obsessing over several dresses and two hats. And a beaded bag. And some 1930s silk camisoles with crochet necklines of which I bought two. Never mind the jewelry which I didn't even have time to ogle. Why? Because I mentioned to the lovely Louise, the gracious owner of the boutique, that my parking pass had probably run out and she informed me that they tow everyone at the stroke of 3. And it was well after 3 pm. I looked out and saw that Avenue road had been cleared of all parked vehicles, including mine. And that sucked so hard. Especially as my mother-in-law's house was just a five minute walk up the street. But it was so hot outside it was gross. Like if you exert yourself for 10 seconds your armpits turn into sprinklers and you're sporting a sweat moustache. You can see why I drove. But Dunce of the Year me forgot to check the signs, probably because I thought I would only be there for about 20 minutes, not the hour + I actually was (as if, I'm never quick with anything. Case in point - this took me four months to post).

Anyway, there were loads of enchanting dresses with beading or sequins or adornment of some kind and I had to take pictures. For a preview of what's new now (rather than four months ago) you can follow The Cat's Meow blog for some serious vintage lusting. And if you're in Toronto and haven't been - a visit is a must!

My Favourite Fashion Quote of the Week

As you will have seen I've been following SHOWstudio's livestream of Gareth Pugh making a one-off dress for the SHOWstudio shop - he's now in his third long day of bending over cutting or bending over sewing and I think I need a Robaxacet just watching him. And man, what he's doing with the fabric today is extremely niggly. (Is that a word?) He's been working with this exquisitely shredded angelskin fabric (they were dead already) and if his constant grimacing at this late hour (he's been at it for 9 hours straight and still going) tells us anything it's that he's ready to say 'I quit this bitch!'. Well, I'm sure it's just fatigue and this is par for the course when making a couture garment. But he does look as if he's about to ask this sleeve if it wants to take a step outside and give it the business.

So about that quote - Gareth's been taking questions submitted through the site and this one came at a bad time and someone got their comeuppance:

If 'fashion' was less glamorous and had less perks, would you still do it?                          

Does this look glamorous??  I must be missing something!                             

Seriously, Dude(tte)! Have you been watching??

To quote the ever so eloquent Ali G, I have one thing to say to Mr. Pugh: Respect.

A Gossipy Swelle Giveaway: Win a Custom Embroidered T-shirt from Miss Jacqueline White!

I am so excited about this giveaway, it couldn't be more fun. Or more racy. It's based on a scenario that it is all too familiar for so many of us girls: You meet a guy, sparks fly and one thing leads to another. A magical encounter ensues and the world is all rainbows, sunshine and bluebirds singing sweet songs. Until the next words out of Mr. Wonderful's mouth are "Did you used to be a bit of a slag?"

The horror! Ring any bells? For Miss Jacqueline White, a London-based fashion and costume designer and stylist who can create just about anything, it was these very pitfalls of dating that provided her lightbulb moment. After enduring the unthinkable and listening to her friends' own shocking tales of pillow talk faux pas she began collecting these 'post-coital clangers' (love that) and embroidering them on T-shirts along with the date and location of the love crime, which became her debut collection. This saucy siren will not suffer in silence.

Other wicked utterings include "Spare me the lifestory"; "Just don't fall in love with me"; "I run with a pretty sexy crowd" (that one is highly laughable) and gasp "As a woman you have nothing to offer the world." Oh no he didn't. Oh yes, he did. 

In summer I received an invite to 'Naughty Launderette', the launch of the collection which was held in - you guessed it - a launderette, perfectly befitting the theme of airing one's dirty laundry. But unfortunately I couldn't attend as I was in Canada. However I couldn't let it end there when I saw what it was all about. I thought the concept behind the collection was an absolute riot and the T-shirts beautifully crafted; I knew I had to feature this precocious and intriguing designer. We discussed a contest and then Miss Jacqueline White generously offered to embroider the winning clanger on one of her original appliquéd woman-in-the-throes-of-passion T-shirts. Brilliant!

So, if you're willing to share/confess/blubber the cocky communiqué that put the passion in the crapper, you could win your very own bespoke Miss Jacqueline White piece!

Now, certainly this behaviour is not limited to girl/guy relationships as nastiness in intimate situations knows no bounds, so this contest is open to anyone who has done the shame walk home shaking their and asking the world in general "Did he/she really say that to me??"

To enter, give us the dirt in the comments section of this post - and feel free to use an alias if you feel you need to! Anyone, anywhere, can enter. The contest will run until midnight of Sunday, November 8, London time. The super lucky winner will be drawn at random, and announced on Monday.

For an extra entry for each, you can:

• Follow Jacqueline White on Twitter; 
• Become a fan of The Swelle Life on Facebook;
• Follow The Swelle Life on Twitter;
• Re-tweet this announcement.

So, do all four - be sure to tell me! - and you get four extra entries! And be sure to check out Miss Jacqueline White's website to shop and see photos from the Naughty Launderette and her creative styling.

Read on to learn more about the fabulous Miss Jacqueline White - she gives great interview:

While your debut collection is far more than just another range of T-shirts, did it feel more restrained than the other side of your work, as in the over-the-top styling and costume for bands?

It certainly did feel different. I had collected a lot of material/stories, many of which had to be discarded because I thought the language was too strong, or they were simply too sad or nasty. The practicalities of designing and producing a viable collection I found challenging, rather than restraining. I had to think about a range of body shapes, rather than just one client, that is why each of the women's is a different cut. I also had to consider durability, washing, and of course the dreaded budgeting - for example: Are individually laser cut perspex size labels justified? YES.

You're very talented with print, embroidery and appliqué, three techniques that make our hearts beat faster. Will you be applying your skills to your next collection?

Yes. There will also be embroidery on the men's, without appliqué, and with less colour. Lots of men have requested I make versions of the women's for them. The material for the next collection is proving very difficult to gather. I can't really say anymore without spoiling the surprise...

Ooh, the anticipation! So, it seems you're a heroine of sorts for exposing such naughty behaviour and turning it back on these callous culprits. How does it feel to be the liberator of the heinous memories these East London girls have been carrying around for years?

I love it, actually. I am something of a naughty heroine amongst the girls, and the boys just seem to think I'm even naughtier than they did before. I don't think I have been to a dinner party in the last year without the whole thing pouring out, followed by lots of drunken reminiscing or confessions. It feels good to 'out' these men, because really we are having the last laugh.

Good work! Has there been any backlash from the outed 'acquaintances?'

Hmm...Some of them know, some don't. The ones who do know actually love it, and see it as an affirmation of their bachelorness. One past fling seemed genuinely disappointed when he did not make the final cut.

I thought the collection might affect my love life in a negative way but instead the opposite happened. A recent lover made me laugh so much when his first post-coital comment was 'What do I have to say to get on a T-shirt?"

Ha! Well, that's one way for a girl to gain the upper hand! What's next for Miss Jacqueline White?

Apart from boshing out loads of Ts for Christmas...I have a couple of massive commercials, just finished one for an airline, about to start a crazy one involving animatronics in the costumes, which is a first for me so it will be pretty interesting. I move into my new studio in three weeks which I cannot wait for. It is a very unusual space, a glass box inside an old office block at London Fields. But my mind and time are completely preoccupied with Miss Tahita Bulmer at the moment, in the build up to the launch of the second album from New Young Pony Club. We are shooting the cover in three weeks, and the album launches in January 2010. I am very excited about the new looks we have created, and quietly confident that we will wipe the floor without joining in the freakshow which seems to be going on in female pop star styling at the moment. It's not sexy, is it?

swelle.

Sexy? I'd have to agree and say not. I cannot wait to see what she's got in the works. 

Branded.

Sensible Footwear is Underrated

I think this is the first time I've looked at a pair of luxury footwear and thought the price was almost justified. These Alberta Ferretti embellished boots cost £974 and they are just stunning. I would be too terrified to actually wear them outside for fear of stepping in something. I'm certain if I had to walk somewhere in them that an obstacle course consisting of a massive wad of gum, chips and curry vomit and dog poop that looked like it came from a bear would appear out of nowhere. And then when I finally got to where I was going I would be so uptight about anyone coming near the two delicate geniuses on my feet that I'd spend the entire evening barricaded in the toilet yelling obscenities at anyone who dared to brush against the door of my stall. 

I think it's best that I forfeit this entry on the Wish List on humanitarian grounds.

I Was a Three Year-Old Austin Powers

 

Today is my birthday. And as a weird homage to myself I'm sharing this photo taken when I was three years-old in which I bear a striking similarity to Austin Powers. Of course that goofiest of characters didn't exist then but the likeness is undeniable, right down to the teeth. Good thing those fell out. 

In what is an act of mere vanity, I'm showing a photo from the following year when I was four, and looked more normal - a 'proper' little girl in a cute dress. Does this redeem me? (I must admit the makeover was fleeting. Soon after my mom bought me polyester tartan jumpsuit - enter the Bay City Rollers phase.)

Go on, 'Mad Men' Yourself

This is fun. The Mad Men website has an app where you can 'Mad Men' yourself, choosing everything from body type and face shape to accessories and scenery - in early 1960s style, of course. There really is only one kind of nose, however, that would suit a woman and it's very Betty and Veronica. One of the options is a huge, bulbous honker that would be perfect for a 'Karl Malden' yourself.

For the first Mad Men 'Me', I went for for a day look that becomes evening with the right accessories (pretty much the way I dress in real life) with long black gloves, clutch and neckpiece. In this scenario, I have come home from a night of general submissiveness which included lots of giggling around men, batting of the lashes and walking while being acutely conscious of my butt. Naturally this won me a few cocktails. I always need something to ease my stomach after drinks so on my way home I grabbed a cruller from Tim Horton's, which you can see I'm holding in my left  hand. And I happen to live in a hotel. It may be the 1960s but I simply refuse to do laundry.

For the second one, I got a little out of control and crashed a church picnic.

Speaking of Mad Men, I am dying to hear how Kristin fares with her amazing entry for the Mad Men Casting Call Contest - it's in the final judging phase. Have you seen her photo? This is the way to Mad Men yourself, for real. 

The Hoff Drunk on the Floor is High Art

When The Hoff hit rockbottom and was filmed drunk and shirtless on the floor shoving a hamburger in his face by his teenage daughter to teach him a lesson, the footage hit YouTube and joined the crap collective of pop culture video phenomena. 

Swiss art duo Comenius Roethlisberger and Admir Jahic, aka 'Invisible Heroes' have been observing the world's fascination with these easily digestible clips of inadvertent social narrative and began drawing frames from selected videos with coloured pencils. Their Star Wars Kid installation was a hit at Scope Basel 2009. It consists of 605 drawn frames of guess who? That poor kid in his garage trying out his moves with an imaginary light saber. (Would you believe I just watched that for the first time? I've seen countless references to it over the years but had never seen the original. I figured the kid was a lot younger. And smaller. He really gets worked up at the end, I thought he'd go right through the wall or at least split his pants or slap himself in the junk.)

Roethlisberger and Jahic's Without You Baby, There Ain't No Us project focusses further on the entity that is YouTube with their latest drawings, described as "an attempt to disrupt the haphazard collection of archived videos that YouTube has become" and that by transforming the visual back into the physical they "are doing what they do best - adding to the confusion." The resulting collection is both distressing and humorous in its ability to highlight our often vulgar predilections.”

You can buy the drawings in Colette's e-shop. Or get out your pencil crayons and draw your own.

It's a Puke-cation!

These days there are all kinds of variations on the word vacation to reflect the times, such as "stay-cation" when you can't go anywhere on your time off. Also akin to "suffo-cation." Luckily, I was able to take the traditional vacation where you buy an exorbitantly priced plane ticket and fly somewhere. This time it was to visit family and friends at home in Canada which began just lovely until somewhere along the way I must have licked a disease-ridden door handle or something and caught strep throat.

I had no idea just how bad strep throat can be. You don't want it. (An FYI just in case it's on your list of infections to catch.) Thanks to Gravol, tonight I've been able to eat a whole piece of dry toast which magically turned into a razor blade as it went down my throat. And there are details of the most disgusting and humiliating kind but I'll spare you as although I do straddle the line of good taste at times (see the title of this post) I fear crossing over would lead to the Point of No Return. And I still have a lot to say about dresses.

So, that's why I haven't been blogging despite having so many great things to share. And thank you for checking in if you have been. I hope to be able to think tomorrow and post a 'real' one. I sure didn't have to think for this one.

Truly Tasteless Post: 'David' Shorts

 

I hope the title of this post braced you somewhat for what was to follow. Sincere apologies if not, or if this offends your tender sensibilities and puts you off cocktail wienies for the rest of your life.

So I'm in Canada now at my family's and yesterday I was watching a show on the CBC where the host attempts to ascertain, for his own cultural enrichment, what is 'art.' So he travels to Florence, the home of Michelangelo's masterpiece 'David,' and included in the shots taken of the Palazzo della Signoria where a copy of the statue stands (the original is housed in the nearby Galleria dell'Accademia) we see racks of shorts with David's nether regions printed on the front and back. I couldn't believe it. I've not been, yet, but I'm glad I had a heads-up so my heart wouldn't fall out the bottoms of my feet when I do one day visit the city.

I had to look this up and found The David Shorts Store when I googled 'David shorts.' And there they were. I like how the website boasts 'we use only the highest quality materials.' Because surely the guy buying these shorts has discerning tastes. But is 100% polyester a top quality fabric? Especially for 'down there'? Better yet are the key selling points, which include:

• Impress women at parties
• Parade around town without having to be bashful

The latter of which is followed by a trip downtown to have your name added to the sex offender's registry.

And they offer alternatives if David isn't 'man' enough for you, like the Italian XXL David Shorts. The XXL does refer to the size, but not of the shorts if you know what I mean.

There was NO WAY I was showing those.

Why Models Get Paid the Big Bucks

Last month I won first prize of a contest that Dream Sequins hosted to mark her 100th post (a favourite blog of mine - it's great for discovering emerging designers). She asked if I'd do a photo with the prizes and I was only too happy to oblige - not just out of gratitude but because no one who has ever won a Swelle giveaway has granted that very request from me! So I know how much it sucks when people don't.

So I got an outfit together to show off what I won (see below). I thought I'd make one of those happy 'surprise' faces which I tried out in the mirror a few times and it seemed to work. A bit goofy but fun. So I thought. After Other Half snapped a bunch of photos they looked okay. On the tiny screen of our camera. But once I had a look at them full size I realised just how misleading those thumbnails were. As you can see above, the 'surprise' face lacks the smile/ooh! combo I had practised and thanks to what appears to be a hugely oversized tongue that despite efforts just can't be contained it looks like a rude gesture if only my left hand was closer to my mouth. And that pose was supposed to convey energy, like a forward momentum propelled by my unbridled enthusiasm. Which apparently was all in my head.

So, yet another situation where I find that modelling isn't as easy as it looks. I swear, it didn't really look like that in person! I guess I just have to accept that I don't have a photogenic tongue.

Just for the record, I was thrilled to win this contest. I NEVER win anything. In fact, the last time I won something was kindergarten. Which would also make it my first. It was Halloween and there was a draw for a huge pumpkin. I remember it being the size of a boulder. I'm sure it wasn't really that big but it was definitely substantial. My teacher offered to drive me home and I think my mother picked me up from school then but I took the ride anyway (duh). So of course my mother wasn't home when we got there and we had to wait in the car for a few minutes until she was. That was uncomfortable. So much so that I can still recall it now. Which reminds me of the time I missed the bus in grade 5 so my cool British principal, Mr. Wolfe, put me on the back of his motorcyle and took me home! Ha, can you imagine that happening now?

What was I talking about? Oh right. So here's what I won: a limited edition "Garfield" tote from Stand Up Comedy (my right arm); Envirosax shopper courtesy of Shopflick (my left arm); LucyJ flip mirror from Brittique (what I'm holding up, it's so cute); Mini-bag and lookbook from Chree (in the shopper bag); knit armwarmers from NIT: FELT: PHRAME (love them) and two bamboo jersey headbands from The Battalion (I'm wearing one which you can't see in the photo but they feel awesome, they are beyond soft. Do they make bras?).

Does anyone still wonder why I don't do styled posts?

Ript, Poked and Deflected

Boing Boing has come up aces today with a trio of goodies that I must share. First off is the 'Hypolux Chandelier' made of plexiglass plates and commercial syringes (I'm not quite sure what a 'commercial' syringe is but it might mean it doesn't have a needle), from Bughouse. It is really cool and kind of sickening all at once.

Next up is the Anti-Papparazi Clutch by [AH] Projects. That's right, it is meant to ruin unwanted celebrity photos and it works by detecting camera flashes and responding with another flash that obscures the photo and gives the subject a kind of Pulp Fiction open briefcase effect. Adam Harvey's website doesn't actually show the bag itself which exists as a prototype and is patent-pending. The designer says he is seeking investors. Well, that might be tough because the potential market is miniscule. First, no 'regular' person has a use for it; and second, we're all on to the fact that the most papped stars put themselves in front of the camera.

However, I do buy that Twilight's Robert Pattinson really isn't loving being stalked 24 hours a day by fans or paps so maybe he should start carrying the clutch. He can start the trend.

I saved the best 'til last. Get a load of this. Ript is "a classic men’s undershirt injected with steroids" created by a designer for Diddy's Sean John label. I don't know about you, but I'm attracted to a guy who is intrigued by a salespitch that uses "injected with steroids" to sell their product. It's like Spanx for guys and acts as a compression garment so the moobs and jelly belly are minimised. Right. A guy with a B-cup who looks to be carrying twins is going to be buying this. It's never the people who need it that buy it. It's the guy who goes to the gym five times a week and cuts out carbs who will drown in his own saliva at the prospect of looking even more cut in his tight t-shirts.  

I'd like to point out what Boing Boing also found amusing - instructions for how to put on the RIPT shirt:

This is especially funny considering that according to the Ript website the designer has "mastered her understanding of what appeals to the most sophisticated and discriminating men." Who need instructions on how to get dressed.

These come in XS. I'm so getting one.

Turkish Delight: Eat it or Wear it?

I saw these gorgeous Erickson Beamon Turkish delight coin earrings and I couldn't help but think of Big Turk, that Turkish Delight chocolate bar from Nestlé that I think is only available in Canada. Why that is I have no idea because I have never, ever seen anyone eat it. But someone must be or they wouldn't be selling it. "A delicious combination of jelly and chocolate" is how the Nestlé website describes it. When I could have bitter chocolate, and chocolate with almonds and mint and those hard toffee Skor bars that can rip out your molars but are so worth it, why would one choose Big Turk?

Okay, I can't believe this. My husband just walked over, looked at my screen and exclaimed "The BIG TURK!!" and nodded with an ear-to-ear smile. I just about fell off my chair and he said "How can you not like the Big Turk??" He's the one! He's keeping the Big Turk in business! Just when you think you know someone. So I asked him if he misses it since we're in the UK. He said "No, I'm not so sure I would like it so much now, I think it would probably be too sweet. But then again maybe the Turk wasn't too sweet. I'll have to get one when we go home. It was like two treats in one. You could eat the chocolate off the outside and then you were left with the chewy jelly."

Wow. I don't know if I should be there to witness this reunion or let them be alone together. But now I'm curious and I may have to crash their party and see for myself.

Uh, anyway, aren't the earrings gorgeous? I think the second style is my favourite, but the first matches the colours of the Big Turk packaging and that must count for some bonus points.

Erickson Beamon has put out a ridiculously gorgeous collection for spring/summer and I have to show my other two favourites: the gem embellished cuff and bangle:

Sorry, no chocolate bar analogies for these ones.

The Men's Cropped Suit Jacket: It's About Time

This post is dedicated to my husband. Whenever he has to put on a suit it's torture. They're hot and you can't shed the tie and loosen the collar unless it's late into the evening at an event where everyone is too drunk to care, like a wedding. Or a funeral. But for the guy who is attending meetings and speaking at conferences where a few beads of sweat is unsightly and well, really gross, this version created by Bruno is a godsend. It's cropped nice and high, has bracelet, or I guess 'watch-length' sleeves and the pants are more like culottes - allowing the arms, calves and stomach to breathe, and be seen!

I think the exposed thong might be pushing it a bit but then again, never say never!

Source: Towleroad

I Got Served: Total and Utter Dancing Fool

This evening I attended a 'street hip hop' class. Anyone who knows me well is all too familiar with my knee situation: I was useless for nearly two years before having surgery in February and now my muscles are screaming for some action after months and months of sloth and eating whatever the heck I wanted. But I have to be cautious. So a group of us thought we'd take advantage of the city's dance studio and the intro hip hop class sounded like fun. Easy fun.

We had planned to start next week but I decided to go tonight on my own; I just needed to dance, I guess. You know how it is. And maybe part of me wanted to dazzle the others next week with my 'natural' ability to pick up the funky fresh moves from the get-go. That sure would have been nice. But it didn't exactly turn out that way.

I opened the door to the studio and walked into a Jay-Z video. Thirty lithe dancers kitted out in street gear were busting it up fast and furious to bowel-rumbling bassey tracks and there I was in my yoga pants and high ponytail, frozen. I managed to put down my bag and tried to join in from the back of the room. I finally figured out who the instructor was and attempted to mimic her. She was doing this crazy move with her foot which had me convinced that in order to perform it she must have three ankles, yet everyone else seemed to also have three ankles. I sort of waved my foot around in front of me and then in a flurry of moves I found the class had spun around and was now facing me. For that second I was like a deer caught in the headlights of a Freightliner. So I spun around, too, but now everyone was already facing the front again. The fragmented limb routine repeated in variations for the next three humiliating minutes and then there were hands on the floor, butts in the air and legs whipping around. They were breakdancing. I realised that if I could actually do these moves (ha!) my knee would likely explode so I picked up my bottle of water and my bag and quietly walked out the door with my joints intact but not so much my dignity. If that was the basic class then the guys from the Beat It video must have been teaching the advanced.

I noticed through the window on the door of the next studio that the class in there was nice and slow so I went to the desk to see about switching. I looked in my open bag and noticed my bottle of water. So the one I was holding in my hand wasn't mine. Which means I came into a class, flailed around for a few minutes and then stole someone's water and left. I think I drank from it, too. So what to do? How about walk back in without making eye contact, putting the water back on the floor and running out? I couldn't bear the thought that someone would be all sweaty and thirsty and not have their water! Dehydration is dangerous and highly uncomfortable.

So I joined what I think was a jazz class and when I went to go into my bag to get my ticket I noticed that my water bottle was half full. I had only had a sip when I first got it. That meant it had leaked about a cup's worth into my bag. My leather Marc by Marc Jacobs bag. Of course. That would never happen in a canvas tote. Never mind, it was time to redeem myself. Things were a lot calmer here and I could actually follow along. It was all going well until things started to get more lively and some jumps were incorporated and I uh, um, I uh, uh......................I don't want to tell you! No, I didn't fart, but let's just say I think I would have preferred it. (I've had a baby so you can figure it out.) I used my knee as an excuse for having to sit out the rest, especially as we had to do our moves in twos now, jazzily skipping across the studio as the others looked on. There was NO. WAY. So the very kind instructor suggested I do some stretches until the cool-down at the end. Why not leave? How could I bail on TWO classes? So I did some stretches and hoped no more liquids would be spilled at that place.

I think I'll do pilates next week.....

'Coco' Film Tragedy Averted

I'm leaving Paris this Thursday, and Coco Avant Chanel opens Wednesday, so I've been planning to see it before I leave. How perfect to see Coco in Paris?

Today Other Half was using the computer and I wanted to be sure of what was happening tomorrow, I'm reviewing the film for And Speaking of Pink so I asked him to Google 'Champs-Élysées cinema' for show details. He was just about to reserve a matinee, then realised he was actually buying me tickets to this:

No offence to Gad Elmaleh, but I would have been SORELY disappointed!

The Bruno Movie is Going to be Awesome

That's all I have to say. I can't think straight when this face is looking back at me!

Pardon Monsieur, But My Dinner Smells of Merde

Sometimes sharing the story of one's misfortune helps erase the bad memories or turn them into something you can laugh at, and that is the purpose of this post. But it's not completely self-serving; it's also a cautionary tale. If you have a weak stomach or are about to eat, or just ate, you may want to skip this. (If you're still with me after reading the title then I think morbid curiosity has already got the better of you. And it's not really that bad. Some of you may even love the stuff depending where you're from.)

I've decided to tell the story on a separate page as it's long and I'm not really sure I want it on my front page! So if you want to read on you can do so here

Another Reason To Love Gareth Pugh

This whole 50th Anniversary hullaballoo for Barbie thing hasn't really got me fired up, evidenced by my passing Colette three times since the Barbie collection arrived, including today, and I couldn't be arsed to stop in to look.

Little did I know until now (thanks Jennine) that Ken was benefiting by way of a much needed makeover from Gareth Pugh who dressed up our favourite little eunuch in a look from his debut men's RTW 2009 collection, complete with wicked goth hair, shaped eyebrows and fully lined eyes. The black patent jacket is handmade (which means Ken has better clothes than you but that's okay, he has no wang) and limited to an edition of 50.

I think this is the jacket Ken's is based on, if you put the collar up - nothing else comes close from what I've seen. But I want to know where those awesome Edward Scissorhands boots are; did someone nick them from the box or is this MalibuGoth Ken?

I now have Bauhaus in my head...undead undead undead...

Source: MFLA

Best April Fools Joke Ever: Bjork Joins Zeppelin

 
Jennine from The Coveted shared this gem of a trick - a fake news story that Bjork had replaced Robert Plant as lead singer of Led Zeppelin and that she (snort) had requested that "they only play songs from albums I and IV", among them classics such as Rock and Roll, Good Times Bad Times, and Stairway to Heaven, as 'reported' on Bjork's website on April 1.

I think because Bjork put this out there and caused us to imagine what she would sound like wailing the first line from Black Dog, she owes us a demo.

Hard Candy Goes Soft

For his final three looks at Paris fashion week, Issey Miyake sent out models wearing dresses, tops and skirts made of sheer, striped squares that instantly reminded me of those hard candies - you know, the ones that yours or your friend's grandmother keeps in a dish on a doily covered end table in the living room, and when you go to take one because you feel obligated when they're offered, the candy you lift with your fingers comes up with all the others stuck to it in one big, rainbow cluster? And then you try to discreetly pry one off the mound. And hope the next words you hear aren't "Go ahead, dear, have another." If those candies are going to be kept in that bowl for a couple of years to meld together into a rock-hard solid mass, there should be a small chiselling tool placed beside the dish. On a doily, of course.

Photos: Giovanni Giannini

"How Yoooou Doin'?"

'Hey, do you mind if I lean on your head? I need to air this thing out a bit.'

One of the sculptures adjacent to a children's playground in Paris. Nice touch.

Parisian Puppet Does Radiohead

On Saturday we walked across the Seine again for a good look at Notre Dame (see upcoming post), sat down on the bridge with our ice creams - Berthillon is the best in Paris - and watched a man set up a little stage from a box, load up some music and proceed to lipsync and air guitar Radiohead's Creep through his little rockstar of a marionette.

So I jumped up and started filming with my camera (I guess I had it positioned for portrait). I gave the guy a few euros and sat down to finish my ice cream. But then he puts on Rage Against the Machine's Killing in the Name of and I thought that was hilarious, and got it in two parts. Now, I'm not going to post it here because the end of that song of protest, if you don't know it or it's been a long time since you've rocked out to it, is a spewing of words that begin with 'F'. Loud ones. And never mind the last word.

So, I have Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 posted on Youtube which you'll see options for if you click on the video above (then click 'More from SwelleDenise' under the info box in the top right).

If you have tender sensibilities, don't go looking for that last one. Funny thing is, there were lots of families with small children that had gathered, and the kids looked a little confused as to why this puppet was screaming obscenities at them, and the parents became stonefaced. But noboby walked away! (But no clapping at the end for that one.)

Oh, and Creep has a couple 'words' as well but they blend. It's not the radio-friendly version.

Isaac Mizrahi Wants to Put a Bag Over Your Head

Isaac Miz had a sense of humour when he sent his girls out on the runway for this show titled 'Smile'. How can you not crack one when you see models with handbag hats on their heads? I wonder if they had zip closures and everything (and used tissues, hard candies that have fallen out of the wrapper and stuck to the bottom and empty lip gloss tubes with what looks like sand all caked around the lid.)

With the 80s vivid brights and easy shapes, I think the woman this collection was made for would be the mother of the girl that Marc Jacobs designed his main line for. They'd have leather clutches on their heads instead of miniature suede shoppers, though.

Photos: Marcio Madeira

I'll Admire You From Afar

I need to lament something, now that I can talk about it. I was invited to the Tadashi Shoji show at New York fashion week for the 20th, and I can't go. I'm distraught. So much so that I hit the bottle last night to deal with it. HARD. That's right, it's tough to admit, but I drank HALF a 750 ml of Jacques Fruits des Bois CIDER WITH FRUIT. Lightly Sparkling. And as I found, only lightly intoxicating. I know the recommended daily limit in the UK for women is 3 units, and what I had equalled only two. However, the bottle did say 'serve over ice' but I went hardcore and drank it straight up. Sure it's only a burp or two away from pop, but it's good for what ails you. Especially when that thing is a sweets craving.

Anyway, above are looks from Tadoshi Shoji's Spring 09 show in New York. Beautiful. Sniff.

Fashion Victim: A Tale of Victory, Ruffle Tops, and Loss

It is the thing we all fear. We'd rather not think about it, but we're well aware of the possibility. One slip in our vigilance and we fall victim, there are no second chances.

It happened Saturday. The place - Brussels, Belgium. Specifically, the toilet of a cinema. Our girl Sophie, one of the most adept and shrewd shoppers the UK and most of Europe has ever seen, had one of these moments of weakness. But let's start at the beginning. Her first time at COS, she was won over by the fashion forward, well-cut styles, and the colours. A bit like Reiss she said, but cheaper. And the sales. Oh, the sales. It was her day. She found a simple plum silk sleeveless top with a little ruffle on one sleeve (you can see where this is going), and she had mentally paired it with so many outfits before even reaching the till. And - wait for it - was 60 euros REDUCED TO 18!! Victory. Result. Whatever.

Back to the cinema toilet. Slumdog Millionaire was a fantastic, enjoyable film, but at what price? Poor Sophie left her precious fashion find and new wardrobe favourite that was already mentally paired with so many outfits, in the ladies'. She realised soon after but when she returned she was only to find the COS plastic bag (or maybe it was paper, I don't know, I've never been there), EMPTY.

It's been two days, and it still stings. Let's take a moment for Sophie and send her our support, and hope that the awful, soulless woman who stole it looks hideous wearing it, and that it does not go with anything from her wardrobe - mentally or otherwise.

Sample Confusion

I got my March issue of British Vogue in the post yesterday (and was relieved to see it was back to proper models on the cover, this one in the form of Lily Donaldson), flipped through and found a sample of a new foundation from Dior. I rejoiced in the freebie, removed it from the page and left it on the coffee table. My husband walked in a while later, walked over to and picked it up slowly with a bewildered look on his face and asked "What is this??" I kind of rolled my eyes at his lack of recognition of a make-up product. But it wasn't that, he's seen enough of my stuff strewn everywhere for years to know what's what. The thing was, it didn't look like make-up, it appeared there was a condom on the table. And not just any condom, but one by Dior! When I took another look at the square, slick package and the words DIORSKIN NUDE stared back, we had a good laugh. We played around with ideas about designer birth control and I won't get into specifics but Karl Lagerfeld's ponytail did figure into one of our fantasy prototypes (and by 'fantasy' I don't mean ours!).

Russell Brand's Naughty Bits

I saw Russell Brand on his Scandalous tour last night in Newcastle. It was my first comedy show, but calling it that doesn't seem to adequately describe the uniquely wild beast that is Russell Brand.

After watching the opener, Mr G, who was the perfect warm-up with his just-funny enough jokes and his socially conscious poetry (he'd make a great rapper), there was break that lasted around 40 minutes. You don't want to sit for too long in a packed audience without distraction because you begin to notice that the air around you smells like beer, cheap perfume and farts.

Alas, the room darkened and the huge white backdrop came alive with a booming video montage of the news clips about Brand's and Jonathon Ross' 'disgraceful' radio stunt (if you live outside of the UK and didn't see it all unfold firsthand it's not really worth explaining, you just had to be here), and then Russell entered. He was wearing a jacket over a sweater that with all of its holes could have been from the Joachim Phoenix collection (though Russell has a style while Joachim just looks like a sad hobo), and of course, his Sass and Bide Black Rats leggings (he was wearing exactly what you see below, boots and all).

Now, he likes his skinny jeans, but Black Rats are women's leggings. And I was sitting fifth row, centre, which was so close to the stage I had to crook my head upward a bit to see him. And what I got was an eyefull of, um, uh, how do I say this...those tights were so revealing that I found myself giggle-shrieking and covering my eyes at first (I was drowned out by the uproarious applause his entrance aroused), it was all so 'out there' and obvious it felt as if there was no one else in the room but me and his junk, and it was forcing me to reckon with it. Now, I'm no prude, I've been known to shock with my silly and raunchy off-the-cuff comments, but still, I was not prepared to observe the fine detail of Russell Brand's nether regions through thin, black satin.

Luckily, he moves around so much doing kicks and shimmies that things shifted and (relative) dignity was restored. I hope he doesn't wear any one pair more than a few times or things are going to break loose.

I know Russell likes to Google himself because he told us so last night and even showed us a screenshot proving that he came in fifth in searches in the week after he hosted the MTV Awards (it fit the bit, it wasn't superfluous flaunting). And if he comes across this post he's probably looking for the ego-gratifiying worship. So here it is:

Russell Brand, you are a brilliant storyteller. I've never laughed so hard. There is no one like you. Just be careful with those leggings or you're going to poke a hole through them. 

You can read about the Russell-hungry girls here