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After attempts at restyling the boy’s hair, and an unsuccessful gym session, the boy and I rushed to stylish venue, Il Botaccio, for the “Kiss Me Qasimi” bash. The party was hosted by Qasimi’s ultra talented designer, and held a guestlist boasting London’s most fashionable. We sipped lethal cocktails, nibbled fresh sushi, danced to old school hip hop courtesy of Alice Dellal, sprawled on delicate antique furniture, and spotted the truly stunning Georgia May Jagger. Definitely a successful event. The only downside was the day spent in bed orchestrating a miracle recovery.

Check out Qasimi’s amazing S/S 2010 collection here and here.

*Sorry for the lack of pics…Will take better photos of my new dress on it’s next outing.

After a relaxed catch-up dinner with the best friend, and a less than comfortable journey home, the boy and I decided to settle at a wine bar located only ten steps from our front door. Conversation turned to the topic of friendship, and we spent time musing the values of history over connection. In my opinion connection wins in every relationship. This may be a result of experiencing betrayal and bullying from a young age, and a youth filled with school hopping. I can safely state, I did not find a true friend until my late teens, when I discovered the importance of similar values, preferences, and personalities. I have kept those relationships close, but have since gone through life only jumping in when the presence of similarities is evident. I can build trust within days, when the connection is right, never settling for a shallow, questionable relationship.
The boy’s friendships differ greatly from mine. The majority of his best friends were found before they learned fractions, and still remain in the same close knit group. He believes trust is built over time and enjoys vast differences in personality, so his friends fall into two distinct groups. The ones who he considers family, and those he often forgets the last names and birthdays, but can relay their perfect drunken night. I remain the one and only exception. At times I view his spectrum of relationships and envy his open demeanor, so while I skip through life only pausing at the right moments, the boy stops whenever possible, breathing in the good, while leaving behind the bad.

Just another Tuesday evening in an exceedingly busy Notting Hill pub. We perched on the last bench with a bottle of white, and the dog snugly wedged between us. Going pre-dinner caused constant envy each time the waitress shifted past our table. I swear the dog licked her lips.

On another note…I’m currently lusting after…Burberry biker boots, LNA leggings, delicate vintage lace skirt, velvet blazer, boyfriend coat, Ashish silver sequin dress, Elemis Papaya Enzyme Peel, anything Balmain, Mac Ruby Woo lipstick and Black Greasepaint stick, the perfect nude dress, vintage silk maxi slip, Canon EOS 450D, Kerastase Ciment Thermique, black vintage fur coat, and two round-trip tickets to NYC.

*The comment problem is resolved, so everyone who wishes should be able to share their thoughts!

Topshop lace blouse and boots, AA wet look skirt, vintage necklaces, Kabiri bangle.

The weekend commenced with a rain filled start and ended on a similar note. After a few too many cocktails on an unexpected Thursday, the boy and I opted for a relaxed Friday the 13th before the weekend festivities. I….consumed 4 skinny cappuccinos, headed east to witness drunken karaoke, started with wine and ended with tequila, caused my camera’s death, munched on too much pizza, snuggled in blankets refusing to leave, reunited with several cousins for a reminiscent dinner, sampled dim sum, contemplated a vintage black fur, found an addiction to Veronica Mars, indulged the boy’s obsession with X-Factor, and managed to slumber early on a Sunday.

Typical November Weekend.

*I’ve had a few emails saying they were unable to leave comments on my blog. I think I have fixed the problem 🙂 Let me know if it’s still not working for some of you! Thank you all for the lovely emails and comments!

Random vintage and thrifted tops and leopard print skirt, H&M hat and bracelets, Matalan shoes.

Still feeling slightly dizzy as a result of an unexpectedly perfect Thursday evening. After a long day of driving, convincing a friend to head towards Notting Hill, and a questionable rainy start, we secured a table at our favourite restaurant, and demanded wine arrive at lightning speed. I consumed a gigantic burger, participated in slightly tipsy behaviour, and conversed about politics and homeopathic remedies. It may be smart to count this Friday the 13th as a day of rest before the weekend parties commence.

Exactly one month until Hong Kong, and according to my brother’s twitter status “it is dry and 70 degrees.” Can’t wait!

I have always despised having a December birthday, especially a day so close to Christmas. During school years the date is constantly overlooked due to winter vacation, as you get older only a fraction of your guestlist attends the birthday party, while others have jetted to an exotic location, or are catering towards visiting relatives. My birthday slots perfectly between my father’s and Christmas, so when my day finally rolls around, most family are extremely hungover and resting for Christmas morning.

An ideal birthday would take place in August, on a comfortably hot day. I dream of breezy summer weather, sipping champagne in grass fields, homemade vanilla cake with too sweet strawberry frosting, picking wildflowers, a fruit and cheese picnic, and lightly tanned skin after a long, laughter filled day.

Maybe next lifetime…

we heart it

The credit crunch solution to a designer frock addiction….I’m partial to the classic, black Chanel carrier (I imagine it would be slimming), which would you choose?

we heart it
(my ideal holiday attire.)

My December brings…
sheets of twinkling lights, flickering white birthday candles, sequin adorned hips swaying to a steady beat, long stemmed glasses brimming with glistening bubbles, steaming cappuccinos with a generous sprinkle of cinnamon, buzzing wine filled laughter, round tables gorged with spiced, fragrant Chinese cuisine, supple leather and silk resembling glossy pages, tinges of lime floating in ice immersed Grey Goose, flashes of red and green dispersed through plush grass, and comfortably warm weather.

I cannot wait!

Vintage Wrangler vest, vintage blouse and necklace, Topshop skirt, H&M bracelets.

Sunday took an unexpected turn when our usual lunching joint, Electric Brasserie, experienced technical difficulties, and could no longer provide for our rumbling stomachs. I suggested a minuscule detour to take advantage of the many authentic Italian eateries in our local vicinity. We munched on the perfect balsamic with rosemary bread, giant artichokes, lobster spaghetti, and sliced rare sirloin. The evening closed with a short pub visit with the dog, and a dose of guilty pleasure television. A perfect Sunday.

It seems each time the boy and I head eastward, it is to attend a party and return home in a heap of mess to an incredibly giddy puppy. Last night the event of choice was in honor of TOMO Photography and Random Magazine, held at superclub The Arches. We found ourselves immersed in live bands, streams of vodka, and eccentric photography. The night closed with a pit stop at Buddha Bar, and a finishing cocktail at our preferred local, E&O. A Friday night in bed may be essential…just this once.