An ode to OTT

I've always held a strange admiration for crazy cat-lady style. I love the whole pile-it-on, layer-it-up and wrap it in a bow attitude of Miss Hannigan, Anna Piaggi and even Mary-Kate Olsen. There's a whimsical, childlike quality in wearing all your favourite things at once and a certain charm and nobility to faded sartorial grandeur that's been infused with never-let-go pride. But there's an obvious downside to these joyful ensembles. You look like a crackhead. But perhaps that's the beauty of it. Maybe sometimes more really is more. I certainly have this tendency when it comes to wearing all my statement rings in one go.  Ok, I've never actually worn *all* of them at once although curiosity just got the better of me and I'm sitting here wearing all 10, hula-hoop playground style. This look certainly ticks the crackhead box. And it's a bit hard to type.

My favourite is the leopard ring which I got from Urban Outfitters about 3 years ago. It's my everyday failsafe and I love how trashy it is. The lips in the centre are from Aldo last weekend. I'm a huge Solange Azagury-Partridge fan and this is as close to her stuff as I'll get for now. Also, how fabulous is her studio? I aspire to this.

But the nonchalant stacking of jewellery is only one component of the overall cat-lady aesthetic. Inspiration comes in the form of 'Big' Edie Bouvier Beale and 'Little' Edie Bouvier Beale; the inimitable spiritual leaders of these loopy ladies. I predict a resurgence in vintage furs adorned with costume brooches and perhaps even the odd printed silk turban to coincide with HBO's remake of iconic '70s documentary Grey Gardens. Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange play the legendary mother-and-daughter relations of Jackie O who lived at Grey Gardens, a decrepit 28-room mansion in the East Hamptons. The tagline is 'True Glamour Never Fades'. Oooh, it gives me goosebumps just reading it! 

What an absolute barmycake. Love her.

The Birthday Hitlist

I'm just about to celebrate the 4th anniversary of my 21st birthday. Instead of having an existential crisis, I've decided to channel that energy into wanting lots of stuff instead.

This cheeky Sonia Rykiel number is a perfect Sunday pub lunch no-brainer. It also completely satisfies my slogan T fetish. Now, if only I thought 800 quid was reasonable for a jumper... 

New Look never fails to pleasantly surprise me, although the trick is to get into their flagship at Marble Arch early on a Tuesday when they get deliveries. Otherwise all that's left is size 16 diamante-covered polyester.

These glorious, palpitation-inducing plates from Trixiedelicious.com would take pride of place in my fantasy home of wonderment. They'd hang magnificently next to the flying ducks, above the Eames sideboard and be taken down to serve special guests salmon en croute on. 

Any knuckle-duster is a good knuckle-duster in my book, but chunky ghetto gold plus rabid lions equals this exceptionally fierce bit of jewelry that makes me proud to be a Croydon girl. God bless Fleathers @ Etsy for making the wonderful thing.

Yippee! Finally, a bikini to get excited about. Putting aside the potentially hazardous tan lines, the scalloped edging on this Chloe two-piece makes me close my eyes and dream of posing in Mykonos, reading Harper's by the pool and waiter-service lychee martinis.

After diligently watching season one on the edge of my seat, waiting for Joan Collins to rock up, shoulders first, I'm going to have to watch season two to get a fulfilling power-shoulder fill. Season one was really not flamboyant enough. Why did no one tell me?

Probably the best show on TV at the moment (apart from Bret Michaels' Rock of Love re-runs on TML, obvers), Mad Men is beautiful to look at and superbly written. Believe the hype. Betty Draper, I heart your wardrobe.

I plan on wearing this totally impractical Reiss clutch through wedding season with gold gladiator heels and a purple bandage dress. And I plan on upstaging the bride. 

Trixiedelicious.com mark two; possibly the greatest dish in the world in which to serve vegetables.

If Alice Dellal and Cher had a fight at a Kiss concert, this skirt would rise from the ashes. Mysterious designer Basbousa is responsible. Can't wait to give it a lil' Miami nights twist with my white boyfriend blazer.

If you haven't heard of Pour La Victoire, type it into google immediately. Fabulous shoes, Kurt Geigery prices and a certain amount of exclusivity as they're pretty tough to get hold of in the UK. 

You're so beautiful, it hurts to look at you

Recently chatting with the fabulous So Stylistic, we got onto the subject of young crushes. As in, people you had a crush on when you were young, not pervy debacles of the flirting-with-jail variety. Having said that, my Zac Efron crush has taken on an entirely inappropriate level of potency. But I digress, we found that alongside our mutual love of ghetto gold lay our Jared Leto circa My So-Called Life obsession. My love for Jordan Catalano made Angela Chase's look like a lukewarm pat on the back. Ahhh, there was nothing like the flannel-shirt-ensconsed-Cranberries-soundtracked forced teen angst of the early '90s. MSCL really was pivotal in my adolescence. It was a show that captured every tiny nuance of tortured teen insecurity, lust and the wisdom that's so rarely acknowleged. 

Plus Jordan was hooooooooot!

You're welcome.

When You Look This Good, Nobody Cares If You're Plastic

I might be a bit late to the party on this one, but I was perusing the Sunday Times this morning (sunshine, brioche and Earl Grey...blissful) and happened across the Barbie pop-up shop news. I haven't been so excited since, well, the life-size Barbie dreamhouse pictures. 

I challenge you not to cry pink tears of joy. 

Self-proclaimed 'happy-chic' interior designer Jonathan Adler is responsible for the wrong yet strangely fabulous hair chandeliers and luxe pink boudoir. It's all part of Barbie's 50th birthday celebrations (50?! Please, so obviously botox.) and as of Wednesday, London's getting in on the act too with fashion uber-store Dover Street Market opening a pop-up shop for two weeks. Henry Holland (is there anything that boy isn't doing at the moment?) has been enlisted to curate. Perhaps we can expect some pink tartan, oversized polka dots and pantone stripes as part of Barbie's edgy new haute ensembles, then? As for Ken, enfant terrible Gareth Pugh has given him a makeover in items from his new Homme collection. 

Also riding the Barbie bandwagon are Roksanda Ilincic, Danielle Scutt and Jeremy Scott, who have trussed Babs up in the hottest get-ups for miles around and are selling their dolls alongside life-size clothes, books and all manner of fandangled Barbie accoutrements in store. 

I, for one, will be gadding about in this Jeremy Scott dress come April, long blonde hair flowing in the Bayswater breeze, not looking at all like Paris Hilton.

Ok, I want to be Barbie. There, I said it.