Inspi(Red)

It is well known that I am rather partial to the colour pink, but that being said, when it comes to RED, my fondness doesn’t lie all that far behind. There are moments where I become completely obsessed with red and the fondness comes out in expressions of wardrobe and accessories. After all, cherry red nail polish suits my colouring much more than pink - just easier to work with. Not to mention that my name here is Cherry Blossom…which for me conjures up glorious blood-red cherries and pretty pink blossom.

I am not sure where it all started. Maybe it was Dorothy's ruby slippers that caused all that trouble for her in the land of Oz.

Maybe it’s steeped in my own red-headed Scottish and Irish ancestry. Tori Amos’s visual words ‘Cherries in the Snow’ could have deepened this love. Japanese prints and Gwen Stefani’s lips-matched-finger-tips in 'Don't Speak' certainly have all played a part. My niece’s poufy red-tutu party dress. My first boyfriends presentation of a full bouquet of velvety red roses. A cozy winters night cuddled up with Husband and a glass of deep red wine definitely adds to the obsession.

But this latest burst of red in my life all started with a trip to Chanel. I still don’t own a Chanel hand bag, or even a pair of vintage two toned Chanel shoes (not for lack of trying mind you...) And so I decided that it was about time that I splashed out and bought not the Rimmel red at clicks, but the classic Chanel Red nail polish to kick off this winter season. My toes were rather charmed with this purchase, and so I ditched my usual french manicure on my hands for the fiery festivity too, and I have to say, it all looks amazing. Fun on my fingertips!

It was only a matter of time that the red toes and tips would graduate to something a little stronger, a little more dazzling, something that keeps the high just a little bit longer. Yes, I am speaking of shoes. Today I found these gorgeous red suede Mary-Janes that are perfect for all my (immediate) red obsessive needs! They are not too high, sturdy and comfy, and absolutely beautiful!

Of course the first thing I did when I got home was celebrate with a glass of pink bubbly. (Don’t worry, pink, you’re still my first love)

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom

Topshop, or not to shop...

I went to the opening of the new Topshop store at the V&A Waterfront in Cape Town today. This is the first time in my life that I have had to queue to get into a store! Not queue as in the new iPhone has just been released and people have been sleeping outside to be sure to get one before they are all gone. No, this was a different kind of queue all together. This queue was orchestrated.

The kind of queue that brought me back to my clubbing days, in fact. Loud thumping music emanating from within it's shiny mall-lit wondrous plains, luscious merchandise hanging on bright new hangers, all gloss and glam in the giant window displays, designed specifically to lure us queuers. You WANT to come in. You MUST come in. You will be BEAUTIFUL if you come in (and spend all your money). 

And I kid you not, there was a rope. All that was missing was a couple of broad shouldered bouncers at the door intimidating people as they waited their turn to be let in. They even had a door lady with a guest list! No they didn't, I'm only kidding, but they could have. The store security guard who let me in was dressed all in black and she had a spirally ear piece connecting her to the gods of consumerism, I can only imagine.

As I stood there amongst 30-at-any-given-time fashionista's, all adorned in the cool, the funky, and the fashionably comfy-cas(ual), I was transported to a movie moment in Sex And The City, in Confessions of a Shopoholic, feeling all mod and hip in my fab self for being there. One of them! One of the first. One of the privileged, the shopping chique, the girl with the LV on her arm.

I suspect the atmosphere had gotten to me. Yes brethren, I drank the coolaid.

There were cameras outside, reporters reporting, paparazziesque, capturing this momentous occasion, this New York moment on a Cape Town winters day. I was enthralled.

Even though I am fully aware of my own silly bamboozlement, I have to take my hat off to the cleverness of this 'event'. TopshopSA were truly crafty in the planning of the entire thing. Setting the all too familiar scene of an independent woman out for a night on the town, it created the perfect mood: Prowless on the Hunt; All the single ladies with one thing on their mind: The Perfect Match.

And that got me thinking. Shopping is a lot like dating. (especially when the store you are about to grace with your wallet has an actual DJ playing!) And as with all budding romances, there are a few key do’s and don’ts in meeting that one, lasting soul mate.

• Don't stop at first sighting.
• Don't accept anything just because it's pretty.
• Do look deeper to the inner stitching.
• Accept compliments, 'these jeans make my a$$ look great', 'that dress slims down my torso perfectly'...
• But don't make lasting decisions based on whimsical flirtations. The tantalizing. The tasseled.
• You are young. You are free. You may love those leather hotpants right now, but really, can they be taken home to meet the folks?
• Enjoy the glittery garments, but make sure they treat you right. No one wants to wake up with the remnants of last nights rhinestones undone and stuck to your smeared face. How well are they attached? Is it going to survive the first wash?
• Don't settle for second best.
• Don't short-sell yourself for a ‘here today gone tomorrow’ flash in the fashion pan.
• Do smile sweetly, and then hold out for that shy but impeccably tailored piece of style in the corner.
• ALWAYS have your way in the shoe department. Own it! Get those shoe elves to bring you your size in this, in that, heck in those too! Get your Twerk on, girl!
• Get giddy on the feeling of the sky scrapers. Enjoy your moment in the stratosphere.
• But even if the shoe fits, be wary of glued seams and nearly-leather look-a-likes.  
• Repeat after me: You don't want it just because she does.
• Be your own woman amongst the mannequins. Choose wisely through the intoxicating haze of freshly tagged skinny jeans. Take your time. Don’t rush. Try them all. Boycuts, bootlegs, high waists, glitter cuffs… 
• Do check out all their moves in the dressing room mirror.
• But above all else, do NOT go home alone!*

Of course we all make mistakes and what is the point of a credit card if you can’t buy the leopard onesie pajama suit and glitter kitty-cat ears?

Well played, TopShopSA. Well played

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom

* OK so that last one only really applies to shopping, not dating.

Moderately Obsessed: Gym Edition

I have always been an advocate of healthy living. Fruit and veggies are a big part of my diet, water is still my favorite drink (even beats champagne, believe it or not), and I was never one of those people who had gym memberships purely for the medical aid benefits. My membership cards were swiped regularly because I actually went to the gym. Regularly.

I am currently doing ballet, I went through phases where I did a lot of yoga, sometimes I went to fun jumpity, kick boxy kinds of classes and I certainly know my way around the Elliptical.

But all things in moderation (except shoes and things that sparkle) (and fluffy stuff)

Even though I have been active and busy trying to stay healthy, I wouldn’t say I have ever been extremely fit. The idea of running marathons exhausts me and makes me feel like a cup of tea and a lie down. A nice climb up a mountain is something I will only do at my OWN pace thank you very much, and only if I can do it while stopping to smell the fynboss along the way. And anything that involves bikes? Oh HELL no.

But then I was introduced to something new by a friend. CROSSFIT. It’s gym, but on a whole new level! Said friend was pregnant at the time, and she still looked more amazing than me or most of my female friends. Her husband is a crossfitter too, and he looks more amazing than most of my male friends. So I took a good long look at them, and at this thing they call Crossfit, and realized, I want me a piece of that.

My current state of exercise was just not enough. I wanted to up my game, take it to the next level, and look more amazing than I have ever looked! I wanted to feel strong, not just healthy. Fit, not just skinny. And also, my baby making time is coming soon…I am going to need to be strong and healthy and ready for it! I can't be waking up late feeling all sluggish from that mid-week second glass of wine, putting off the morning walk on the promenade for an extra half hour in bed. I can’t be trying to get rid of a pizza bulge round my middle when I have bigger fish to fry: The dreaded baby weight. No, it was time for me to take it up a notch and get serious.

After all, if I don’t work on that six-pack now, when will I ever get there?

And so I joined Crossfit. WHAT a rush! The training is hard but so much fun. I didn’t expect to love it so much – after all, it still involves hard sweat – but something about the structure of it all, the people, the way we all work together and help encourage each other makes me enjoy the work outs immensely and actually look forward to going to gym. I would say I feel somewhat obsessed about it! I even jumped on board with their whole eating plan regime and now am fully converted to eating a ZONE based diet. (well, 80% zone at any rate)

Now don't get me wrong. All things in moderation. I have started off slowly, with 2 to 3 workouts a week. I'm more newbee than ninja, and so need to scale a lot of my work outs, meaning I do my push-ups from my knee's and my version of a 'toes-to-bar' is a 'knees-to-chest'. But to be able to do a hand-stand push-up one day? Yea, that would be pretty awesome. Plus, I got to go shopping for a new pair of shoes, 'specially designed for Crossfit :)

This week, 2 months into Crossfitting, I hit my first real achievement. It's called a PB (personal best) and I did my first PB of a weight noteworthy enough to get included on the board with all the other names. Up till now my weights have been too low. But yesterday, even though my PB was the lowest one scored on the board, it was still the highest I personally have ever scored! Hence PB :) I did a 42.6kg back squat - which is more than double my last attempt! (last time I only got to 19kgs) This on top of doing 96 lunges, 60 V-ups, skipping, and a bunch of other stuff. So I feel pretty good about myself right now, and pretty on track to getting that proverbial six-pack before baby!

I do, however, also feel pretty stiff and sore, and have not been able to walk normally all day ;)

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom

*pictures taken from the Cape Crossfit Facebook page

Lucky 2013's To Do's

If my 2012 could be summed up in 2 words, they would have to be Pink Champagne. It was a wonderful year where I got to really just live in the moment and celebrate everything. I started saying: "You have to celebrate the small things in life. Like a Tuesday," on a regular basis. I would say this and pop a bottle of bubbly and toast the world. 

Of course it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. My sunshine turned into a cancer that had to be cut out. My rainbows came from the floods of tears. There were some scary moments, and some medical madness’s, but those things just made me more adamant that I had to celebrate the Tuesdays.

But 2012 is over, gone, in the past. Cheers to that!

2013 has slowly crept in, and now as January is almost over, I think I am ready to make my resolutions. Not so much resolutions as plans. I am a planner. A list maker. A pen-and-paper girl. This year will have a ‘To Do List’ that will be taken to the next level – it will graduate from post-its and note books of paper and be focussed. Set out in 13 clear and concise points. Set to schedules and time lines. My Plan (see, I’m doing it already!) is to plan to succeed! To pull myself up by the sparkles and make sure not to waste any time. I am going to focus more and look more into the future. Is what I am doing right now going to prepare a future for me that I will want to live in? Is what I am doing right now adding to the dreams, the Lucky 13's To Do's?

These are my musings right now, but I must be off. I have a ‘Lucky 2013 To Do List’ to create!

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom

Feng-Shoe

Shoes have been a part of my persona for as long as I can remember. It’s been a life long love story - they complete me! Even though the first thing I do when I get home is kick off my shoes (I like being barefoot in the kitchen…) I will never leave the house without the perfect pair donning my feet. No outfit is quite finished without them.

When I was a little girl I was obsessed with ballet shoes, and my dear sweet mother allowed me to wear my little black ballet pumps till they fell off my feet in shreds. I wasn’t using them to dance after all, as I was kicked out of my ballet class at age 4 for being too uncoordinatedly tall…I had all these legs, and I wasn’t sure what to do with them yet, like a baby giraffe.

I owned a gorgeous little pair of silk slippers that were mine when I was a todler – they have Chinese dragon faces on them complete with string mustaches and even though I don’t actually remember wearing them, they have been a prized possession ever since. And there was even an era where I would only wear baby-doll ‘school shoe’ black flats with white bobby socks, come hell or high water. I never actually owned a pair of sequined ruby red shoes, but I dreamt about them a lot.  Like seriously, a LOT!

An article in this months VOGUE (UK edition) entitled ‘Which Shoe Are You?’ got me thinking about my shoe-drobe. The author of the article confesses to having a fetish for the ‘beautifully ugly’ and whereas I don’t think I have any ugly shoes - not anymore - the journey has not always been pretty. Thinking about all the shoes in my past and present, I have realized I have too many. Not that any woman could ever possibly have too many shoes, but there are days where I really do start to wonder about myself. The problem is that I have not always been able to afford the best quality, and that combined with my almost maternal attachment to each and every pair I ever owned, my cupboards tend to overflow with beautiful disasters. Quantity rather than quality. But as I grew up, so did my need for spending my money a bit more wisely…and my feet developed a taste for real leather and Italian-arched inners.

Husband very cleverly thought up a system for me that for every new pair I want, I should throw out 2 old pairs to make feng-shui space. That way I can always have nice new (better quality) shiny shoes and start to move along from the nameless tatty falling apart ones of my youth. When we renovated our home I got to design and build in my very own spice-rack shoe cupboard to try deal with space issues in the most effective fashion.

I was thrilled at the results, but of course, there was still not enough space for all my shoes. There had to be a mass toss out. It was very hard for me, but I got rid of 50 pairs of shoes. FIFTY! That’s 100 shoes who have been my friends, my children, my sole-mates through the past most tumultuous teen-to-adulthood years! The most exciting ones, with first date shoes, party shoes, break-up shoes, high fashion shoes, big mistake shoes. Pixie toed tire-track strap-on shoes. Spike heeled soccer boot lace-up shoes. Minnie mouse lacquered cartoonish shoes. Perspex clear plastic stripper shoes. Triple-decker Spice Girl sneaker shoes. Fake-snake platformed tranny shoes. Tinselly Christmassy shoes. Gothy Don’t-Call-Me-Babe knee-high shoes. Everything but the proverbial purple clogs! (anyone who idealized the movie Clueless should know what I mean)

It was way harsh having to get rid of so many, but Husband was right. Most of them were cracked, broken or just plain un-wearable. Some heels can only happen before age 33 after all. Besides, making space in my wardrobe is the only way for me to keep feeding the monster. And my monster will be fed! She wants Chanel! She wants Louboutin! She wants Jimmy Choo, and even though she has none of these yet, we are nesting and preparing place for when they arrive. (‘We’ being the royal we, of me, my feet, and the monster…) And so the Feng-Shoe continues.

Sadly I don’t have pictures of all the shoes I have parted with. A terrible oversight on my part, but from now on, I will be documenting the ones I have LONG before its time for them to go walkies.

Here are a few:

My Gwen Stefani heels. Worn by me mostly at ages 25 – 28, these girls combined funk with elegance. They were peep-toed before the peep-toe mania took the rest of the shoe industry by storm, ahead of their time. They used to take me dancing when I wore bottle green silken cropped cargo pants with a black strappy tank and patched golf hat that I stole from an ex. (one of the only good things to ever come out of that relationship!) They used to enjoy Black Eyed Peas and Christina Aguilera, while making their presence known at all the hot-spots in Rivoia and Sandton, JHB. The Gwen Stefani’s could take me to the movies on a first-date Friday night in jeans, hit the clubs on Saturday and then arrive a little disheveled and in need of bottled water at Sunday Family Lunch paired simply with a cute little T-shirt dress. They were all round weekenders and they made me OH so happy!

The Gladiator-Kimmies. I aliken these sky-high heels to the soullessness of Kim Kardashian. Ever so pretty, but cheap and nasty. These are just too high (Playmate of the Year kind of high) and just too plastic (Playmate of the Year kind of plastic) but still beautiful on. They are quite new, only 2 now, but they are aging in bunny years, so they are already a hundred and five. Love the look, but like most reality TV, there is only so much time one can dedicate ones self to trashy flashdom without ending up in a moral black hole. They are all look and no substance. They need to go.

The Pointe Baby-Dolls. Oh I love these! They have been around for a long time, but I don’t wear them that often. The problem being that they are one size too small. Wearing them makes my feet curl in and cramp up for days afterwards, which is no longer something I’m willing to do - all that often. But the little black on black ribbon that threads through the rim of these girls makes their baby-doll-ness just THAT much more adorable! They used to go best with a pair of black pinstriped short-shorts I used to wear pre-cellulite, and ended up in a few rather compromising photo-opportunities. Though they never did anything that was actually naughty or bad, they liked to do things that were ‘strange’.  Like Andy Warhol strange. Like take photos standing atop public toilet seats strange? Yes, that. I love them too much to part with them, even if all that they are good for these days is making my shoe-rack look pretty and reminding me of strange-days gone by.

I think that’s enough for now. I have some shoe-shopping to do so need to get off the computer… Perhaps this will need to be a series of sorts? With all the shoes that live in my cupboard, there is ample ammo there for a year-long series me thinks! We’ll see.

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom

SHOPPING!

“Don’t be duped by sales; they are like mermaids who seduce and drag you to the bottom of the sea.” Anna Dello Russo

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I’m speaking, of course, about that iconic moment in any fashionista’s life, that ritual that is more holy and more sweet than dipping burned and blistered feet in pools of blessed water…I’m speaking of SHOPPING!

Like a moth to the flame, I have been drawn to shopping centers since the tender age of ‘Mommy can I PLEASE come with you to get the groceries, I will sit in the trolley and not touch anything I promise!’ Of course that was never the case. If I was taken with, I would spot any and every possible little twinkling trinket like a magpie with x-ray vision! My mother banned me from grocery shopping at age 5. Poor me, poor me, till the day I started to make my own money.

I grew up in a very poor family and my parents didn’t have the money to buy us toys or new clothes or sweets on a weekly basis like so many other children I knew. I lived in hand-me-downs (often from my brothers as I was taller than my big sister) and played in the garden with nature as my playthings. But once a month, my Dad would take one of us kids for a special ‘outing’ of quality time with him. There were 6 of us, so I got to go on my outing with Dad twice a year. This outing included a trip to Wimpey where I was allowed a Banana Boat, and then a trip to the shops with MONEY to spend! First it was R1 and I could buy any toy I wanted with it. It became R5 and then R10 by the time I turned 13 and the outings stopped, but I remember being so excited all those years, clutching my money in one hand, Dad’s hand in the other, and scouting for the very best ‘buy’ I could find. It was sheer joy.

And SALES! Wow. Well that’s just one notch up! Finding that pair of dove grey knee high rounded toe pearl skin boots at Nine West ON SALE in my size brings all those childhood memories rushing back of Daddy taking me on a sugar high to buy a toy just for me! I mean, I like mermaids too, so if I’m going to be dragged to the bottom of the ocean, what a way to go right?!

To this day I get a sense of euphoria every time I walk into a shop. I find it so much fun just to be there. With or without money, I love looking and seeing and (yes, also) touching everything. It’s no wonder I became a sales rep and spent 6 years of my adult life working in those shopping centers, rushing from one to the next to the next, day in day out, building displays and setting up my products in places where they were in most danger of being purchased. I know the inside of a shopping center like the back of my hand – they just make sense to me. Put me on the street and I loose my direction all the time, but if you drop me in the middle of a brand new shopping center, no matter where, I will be able to find my way around instantly. (Husband gets horribly lost even in the same centers we go to all the time!)

So I know this is a problem for me, or so my maxed out credit card keeps telling me, but still, I love it. I just love shopping. No matter what for. Even a trip to the grocery store fills me with irrational glee. We need light-bulbs and garden hose? No problem! I’ll go SHOPPING! We need sugar and toilet paper? No worries – I’ll go SHOPPING! What’s that, Husband? You need shaving cream and socks? Allow me. I’ll go SHOPPING! Cat food? I’ll go…

…you get the point.

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust
Cherry Blossom

Think For Yourself

My Grandmother, Mary Haig, was a writer. She was so much more than just that, but if I had to start writing about my granny, this blog post would last forever. Snippets will just have to do for now. October was her birthday month, and so it was only appropriate timing to start putting up things from her life. I found this article she wrote for a magazine in 1943 and thought I would share it:

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust
Cherry Blossom

Yay Clothes!

(Once a month I submit a piece to be published on the blog SaySomethingToo. Each month we are given a topic, and each month we write what ever our little hearts desire - so long as it is on that topic or somehow related. This month the topic was Clothes, which was wonderful! This was my submission:)

For original article go to www.saysomethingtoo.me

YAY CLOTHES

Wow. Clothes. Fashion. And yes, SHOES! I am, and always have been, a bit of a clothes nut. From trying desperately to Couture-up the dismal hand-me-downs I was forced to wear while growing up, to spending a few of my magic size-ElleMcPherson years being a clothes horse for the modeling industry, to matching my 30 something self, who is not quite ready to leave my 20 something ensembles behind, to a more ‘mature’ me. (read: short skirts are still short, but no longer belt-like) I wondered with utmost glee what I would write about this month!? I mean I ask you, how can I do justice to this amazing topic? This Holy-Grail of blogging? This place of pure passion! CLOTHES!

A brief history if I may. Whereas my friends had posters of Richard Dean Anderson and a much younger Jonny Depp donning their walls, my teenage wall, roof to floor, was pasted in a perfect check-print of pages cut out of the fashion sections of magazines. Clothes and shoes. When I first started working in an office building, I already had my new work wardrobe planned and laid out before they even called to say I got the job! Clothes and dangerously high heels. When my husband decided to teach me how to fish, I was mostly excited at the prospects of getting a whole new outfit! Clothes and pink rubber fishing boots. Then there was the Sex And The City obsession in the nineties. Was I a daring Carey or a conservatively cute Charlotte? Pretty much all my life has been a never ending line of what shall I wear today? Which outfit, what mask, what fun character am I in the mood to play? Audrey Hepburn in ballet pumps, tights and stripes? Or Marilyn in voluptuous revealing sequence?

Even my internet usage is about 50% fashion related, 50% everything else. I follow anything and everything on Twitter that gets my wardrobe-mania’s attention (Damsel in Dior, Urban threads, Pursuit of Shoes) even if the tweets are never as satisfying as the names of the tweeters. My collection of fashion blogs whom I visit regularly help satisfy a craving for beautiful things that I could never own, or never pull off with my couloring… (Gala Darling. My Luscious Life) I enjoy a good book with a fashion flavor (A Vintage Affair. The Devil Wears Prada) And then of course there is the general observation and keen following of certain TV series where clothes feature and I drool all over almost every episode. (Revenge. Gossip Girl)

 Clothes have been such a huge part of my life, my identity, my very core, that the idea of writing about them was somewhat intimidating.

Then, fortunately, the September issue of Marie Claire (SA) came to my rescue. An article titled ‘ME is the new black’ filled me with inspiration. I loved it! It was filled with modern-day truths, not so much about clothes, but about personal branding. And as an ex Brand Manager, this was right up my alley! The new trend that is branding and spreading ones self across the interwebs, was summed up in a phrase I love (and shall steal) by Dion Chang, ‘Techno-Narcissism’.

“Twitter and other social-media platforms give people a sense that their opinions matter more. Before, one used to become aware of one’s own brand when dropping off a CV but now even a nine-year-old can be aware of their personal brand through a Twitter feed.”

The article went on to talk about branding in the fashion industry, and the movement towards personal labels. It got me thinking. Karl Lagerfeld by Karl Lagerfeld. Vivienne Westwood by Vivienne Westwood. Donatella Versace by Donatella Versace. Ralph Lauren by Ralph Lauren. We even have our very own Gavin Rajah creations by Gavin Rajah.

And so (allow me if you will to coin my own phrase) I came up with Textile Narcissism. If Victoria Beckham can do it, why can’t I? Not quite on the same scale as an internationally launched fashion house, but much like the fact that Twitter lives in the back pocket of every tween to adult on the street, PamiPants was born!

PamiPants Home Edition - schluffing pants

Now don’t get me wrong. I didn’t mean to and haven’t started my own fashion label. I don’t mean to ever make clothes for other people. And I certainly don’t mean to stop shopping! (Sorry, Husband) But thanks to my excessively long and impossible-to-shop-for legs, my irritation with the fashion that is out there, the quality going down as fast as the price goes up not to mention nothing fits! and to my older and wiser sense of style (no, I will NOT be wearing those butt-cleavage jeans anymore thank you! I prefer to keep my love handles and delicates to myself!) it was inevitable that I would eventually learn how to make my own clothes.

I have been doing just that for the past few months, starting with, of course, the thing I needed the most, long pants. Hence PamiPants. I have had so much fun with this, getting tips off YouTube, asking sales assistants at fabric stores for advice and even plundering my mothers old pattern collection she built as a young adult before babies (the high waisted, super slim, uber long, 70’s flowey pants are AMAZING! I cant wait to try make them.) Each item gets finished off with a pocket that has a simple ‘pami’ embroidered onto it, just to separate my own personal brand from the rest of the pack, and to add a little fun. And, I suppose, to pander to the textile narcissism that this whole project is bringing out in me. Yay clothes!

Pami pockets - the kitty pajama pants

Beach toga for bikini season

Extra-long ruffled ankle pami tights

Silky pami-jammies

(You will notice I am working my way up here. Started with easy, stretchy, casual. Then tried my hand at more delicate fabrics. Next I am going to tackle putting in a zip on a garment, my very own jeans and then making a dress! Stand back Christian Dior ;) Wish me luck blog-verse.)

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom

Hello Kitty Corner: The Snow White Rule

Is it just me, or is there a whole lot of etiquette that is being ignored in the world? I could write reams and reams here, a book of How To Be, but in the interest of saving time, lets just get down to the point.

In today's Hello Kitty Corner, Cherry Blossom is going to teach you a little thing about what to wear to a children's Birthday party, when you are in fact a children yourself. I had the pleasure of attending a 4 year old Birthday party today, and above all the party favors, the balloons, the streamers and the pink frosting, the thing that mostly left an impression on me was an outfit worn by one little girl, or rather, the choice made by her mother. Or rather, the audacity of said mother.

The thing was, it was a Snow White party. And so Birthday Girl, (aka my god child) got to be Snow White for the day. She had her cute little dress-up-outfit down to the satin ribbon in the hair. All that was missing was a bird or a rabbit or a deer waiting on her every need. But basically, for all intensive purposes, she was the very embodiment of Snow White for this, her 4th Birthday party. It was all perfect and sweetness and non-ApplePie...till this other little girl arrived. Dressed in a snow white outfit too. It was not a dress up party.

Still, never one to turn down an opportunity to dress up, I would have been willing to accept a play-along dress code for this little guest. A Dwarf outfit would have been cool. Heck, the Wicked Witch would have rocked! Even a Magic Mirror ensemble would have won my praise. But a snow white outfit, when she is not the birthday girl?

Oh. No. She. Didn't!

HELLO!?!? Am i the only one who thinks that this is the 4 year old drive-by equivalent of wearing a bridal gown to a wedding when you are not the bride? AWKS!

Serously Moms, not cool. Next time you take your little princess to a party that isn't in her honor, please try to remember that there are a few other princesses out there and that yours isn't the only one to walk the earth. Such is life. Step aside. Wait for your moment. THEN throw all the glitter you want and hope that another mom doesn't arrive with her glitter-throwing abilities all up in your face.

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust
Cherry Blossom

Girl Crush Gwednesday: Gwen Stefani

Call it ska, call it indie, call it pop – what ever it is, this girl can ROCK! And my favorite part? She does it in heels.

If i had to sit down and pick one female figure who had the most influence over my life, (other than Tori Amos) style and even boyfriend choices, Gwen Stefani would be it.

Her persona radiated into my world when my usual attire consisted of doc martin boots, tiny teenage shorts and funky stockings – the weirder the better! Gwen, front woman of No Doubt, appealed to my adolescent self in the hit song Just a Girl because i identified with her wholly and completely. She wore an intensely fun and feminie get-up of perfect make-up, pearls, cherry-red short-cut nails, flat chested belly tank tops and big camo cargo pants with boots. Her best friend was her brother. She was the girl who could hold her own with the boys. And she wore a bindi.

Listening to Tragic Kingdom while rollerblading around good old South African suburbia, i was that Californian beach-bleached blonde damsel in docs. And even though i could never pipe it out like her, i sang my way though all No Doubts subsequent albums, right into my adult years.

 At the turn of the millennium, while i was on a working visa in America, all the stars and fairies aligned and i got to go see No Doubt play, live, on their Return of Saturn tour. The 90’s were over. The music was edgier. The boyfriend was adorably wholesome. And my foot was broken in the mosh-pit. That was the BEST concert experience of my life! i couldn’t believe i was this close to my teen-fan alter-ego obsession! Gwen, of course, was solely responsible for my burning desire to dye my hair pink.

 Then, when Mz Stefani went solo and released Love Angle Music Baby (L.A.M.B.) we met again, kindred spirits, but this time in high heels and skinny jeans. Our slouchy boy pants and flat boots had been replaced by six-inch leopard print creations and sky-high hemlines. Nails were French tipped and boys gave way to the men of my dreams. OK, sometimes nightmares. But Gwen got me through; Her light hearted, up-beat sound never failing to pick me up after even the worst failed relationship.

Girlfriend and i both went through a gold-glitter-ghetto phase together. Harajuku Girls sparked my eventual trip to Tokyo. Rich Girl was the inspiration for the pirate-girl outfit at my brother-in-law’s 21’st Birthday surprise dress-up party. Underneath it All encouraged me to prolong a relationship with an otherwise not so lovely man, and Simple Kind of Life echoed my own internal clock. i can guarantee she is up there as my future mom style icon too.

 Upon hearing the news that Gwen Stefani and No Doubt were teaming up again after 11 long years with a new album, Push and Shove, i couldn’t be more excited!

Gwen and i are now both married to our soul mates, she is as classy and sassy as ever, and i cant wait to see what else my old friend and i have in common through the music. Pre-ordering this one for sure!

No matter where Gwen and i end up, probably two purple-washed white haired ladies in viscose, i know that thanx to Don't Speak, i will have a soft spot for a navy blue and white polka dot cinch waisted sun dress till the day i die.

Love, lust and fairy-star-dust

Cherry Blossom