B E A N S . O N . T O A S T

New twist on my povo staple meal. Wholemeal bread, mexican re fried beans, gruyere cheese, sour cream and red jalapenos.
J E S S . R U N C I M A N - Sent from my BlackBerry®

W I T H . L O V E . F R O M . M A R C

I was petrified I'd get mugged in New York. I had no idea how to navigate my way round its grid system "And where the hell is Barney's?".

If six days on my own in NYC was like a crash course on how to be a New Yorker, then I passed with flying colours.

Within hours of touching down in the US I was standing in Times Square eating one dollar pizza and chatting to a bunch of NYPD cops at 1am. Day two I went to a the Ezer fashion show and had $40 nicked, and by day six I was arguing with cab drivers with true gumption.

Of course it was fashion week and the Fash Pack were out in force. Lots of people wearing attention grabbing garms in the hope they'll end up on someone's blog. Je n'aime pas. I however was dining in Pastis while Anna Wintour sat a few tables away and someone else picked up the tab.

If there was one NYFW highlight which still makes me smile in a very coy 'I'm-Victoria-Beckham-and-I-don't-want-wrinkles' type way it was this. The mental images I was taking were exact to the ones I would spend hours trawling through on blogs and looking at in magazines. And yet here I was, touching distance away from a world previously only available on Style.com.

Presented with my ticket I walked inside. The sharp elbows London has gifted me got me a good spot between the front row and the photographers stand.

I was exactly where I am supposed be.

J E S S . R U N C I M A N - Sent from my BlackBerry®

U P . A N D . A W A Y

Excitement has got the better of me already. The boxing up of my room has already begun.
J E S S . R U N C I M A N - Sent from my BlackBerry®

M . K

Jesus I love the Olsens. I need a leopard print chiffon plunging maxi dress.

olsensanonymous

IMG00143-20100805-1547.jpg

The que at the Alexander Wang sample sale on Mercer St, NY last week.
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E . B L O G G I N G

Trying out blogging from my blackberry email.

E . B L O G G I N G

Trying out blogging from my blackberry email. Hopefully this should show some pictures of my silver / gold bling. I'm liking the trend for over loading your digits with cocktail rings I just don't like mixing gold and silver.

J E S S . R U N C I M A N - Sent from my BlackBerry®

C O M P L E X . S A L E

Spotted this on Tommy Tonn's Twitter feed.

Complex Geometries one day secret sale

40% of everything when you quote 'onedaysale' at online checkout.

All sales are final, no refunds.

There was one of his lovely photographs to go along side this exciting price slashing news however blogging from an iPod touch that has fallen out of love with it's charger is proving difficult. As is it's automatic spellcheck this being the third time I have edited this post after publishing it to the blog.

This is all down to my laptop dying in my arms the other night. Can hardware technology commit suicide? I'm sure I saw a fine art exhibition years ago that confirmmed so, no?

C E L I N E

Love at first sight.

Celine's Resort 2011 collection is my new instant infactuation.

je vous veux sur moi maintenant

F I E R C E

P I N . M E . U P

This is my insiration for friday night's outfit minus the running mascara. Her body is fucking amazing also.

"Why Don't You Love Me" - Beyoncé from Beyoncé on Vimeo.

H A P P Y . F E E T

I think I would actually be able to hear my feet sing a little bit if they ever got their toes into these. Pastel perfection by Opening Ceremony, available at Good Hood.

A . C H I L D . O F . T H E . J A G O

I adore these hats by A Child of the Jago from their AW10 collection. I used to have a black velvet bowler hat when I was about four years old and I used to wear it all the time.

Exaggerated, playful and dark. Beautiful felt, clean lines on the Aztec trim and a massive gold arrow. Amazing! But what the hell do I wear it with?

F O R T

Today I will mostly be...

R A N T

I need to figure out a way to rock shorts without the aid of two pairs of 80 denier black tights and four inch door wedges shuved under my heels. When did cleavage become an un-fashionable erongenous zone, eh? I blame idiots like Katie Price for making breasts into laughable orange objects straped to the font of womens chests like swim floats.

So why legs? I have knees that look like the faces of over fed sulky teenagers with bad skin. It's all about long, glowing, satin touch legs and, apparently, no breasts. I no longer am able to recall a time when I could "get away with" not wearing a bra. And why does everyone love loose razor back vests so much? I fucking deteste them, all they do is make my waist look the same width as my hips.

Fuck it. I'm bringing back hips and breast and teeny tiny waists cause that's all I got to go on.

T R Y . B U T . D O N ' T . B U Y

Make-believing in the changing rooms of Topshop that I own all this stuff.

N A I L Z . D I D

I T ' S . A . B L O G . E A T . B L O G . W O R L D

This is a little post to friend and fellow blogger Becky who runs a neat little blog that has something valuable to say and great taste in bags. So here it is... From London With Love X

A U C T I O N

A very lovely friend of mine gave me a tip of about an auction house that has an amazing collection for clothes, vintage, designer, couture, fashion illustrations, exhibit pieces, famous dresses won by Princess Diana and Audrey Hepburn, Chanel suits from the fifties, Dior gowns from the twenties. Seriously I've never seen anything like this before in my life and it certainly beats Ebay. Thus why I'm not telling you any more about them. But I will share a few pictures for you to drool over.

A Nicolas Ghesquière for Balenciaga coat circa 2005 that my friend is hoping to bid on.

An embroidered gold tulle tabard, circa 1910-1912, worked in raised silver and gold threads, the train hem adorned with gold thread rouleaux and pom-poms.

N E G L E C T

Sorry! I've been battling which harrowing mental issues like 'which dress should I keep and which should I return?' and 'why don't they have them in a size 38?'. If this isn't enough throw the Selfrdiges summer sale into the mix, which by the way starts on Monday at 8am for those of you sadistic enough to want to go. To make matters worse I had to endure a grueling live 20 minutes of Daisy Dares You. Yea we had no idea who she was either.



She was born in 1993 and so you have probably switched off by this point. Anyway, with this in mind I don't believe that she can truly bring anything new or communicate anything of little integrity in her music. Sorry love! If she did, she wouldn't be saying it through promo gigs with a team of PR people pulling her strings.

The best bit though which actually made me feel a huge wave of embarrassment and hilarity all at the same time. This was the group of ten or so blond DDY look-a-likey's, all sporting crop tops, large headphones and dancing to the sound of deadly silence.

Whoever was behind that PR & Marketing idea should be, well...