Showing posts with label Marc Jacobs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marc Jacobs. Show all posts

Monday, January 4, 2010

Bring on the Tennies/Teens/Whatevs

OK so today is the day that I return to the real world. Everybody knows that starting on January 1st is too unrealistic a goal – how are the hungover supposed to recuperate if deprived of continuous access to Johnny Onion Rings and Lucozade? And it’s unfair to curtail TV viewing when there are still so many amazing Review of the Year-type programmes on.

But today has to be the day, doesn’t it? I mean there’s no excuse now. The festive season is well and truly over and it’s high time that I got it together and attempted to begin my New Year’s resolutions, which are: to work more, sleep more, exercise more and blog more while eating, drinking, partying and shopping less. God that sounds boring but I guess it’s necessary after a two week period during which I started each day with a fried breakfast and could barely muster the motivation to write a 140 character tweet. And if I find myself getting blue about my new mature - but very dull - life, I can always cheer myself up by stroking the soft leather of my new Marc by Marc Jacobs bag or twirling around my room in my Luella prom skirt. Thanks Santa! LE





Oh and another resolution: Get camera fixed and start taking proper photos!

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

MJ In His Early Days


It was the Costume Institute gala on Monday – aka Fright Night at the Museum. Nice Superquinn-turquoise horns, Madonna and don’t get me started on Stella’s lace bra suit. Even a huge 60s bouffant couldn't make Bland Hathaway look remotely interesting. Yes, we complain about boring red carpet dressing, but that’s really no excuse for parading a year’s worth of worst dressed moments all in one night.
 
King of the night was honorary chair Marc Jacobs. Although I’m usually his biggest fan, unfortunately he was responsible for many of the horrors on show  - Kate’s tinfoil mess, VB’s cheap polka dot handkerchief accessorized with hideous orange tan.
 
All of this Marc action reminded me yet again how much I miss the Marc Jacobs of yore, pre-rehab and pre- makeover. He had lank, greasy hair, wore nerdy specs and was a few stone heavier - but he was so cute. He’s all happily engaged now and living clean but the hotness just isn’t there for me anymore. I get it. He wanted to show ex Jason Preston what he was missing. But now he’s all loved up with Lorenzo Martone, maybe he’ll start to let himself go and return to his grungier roots. Hopefully. Enough with designers (Karl, Donna, John Galliano - I'm talking to you) and their dramatic weight loss. They should just leave the size zero obsession to the models.



PS - Just to prove we’re not evil bloggers, damning everybody…
The Portmanteau’s Best Dressed at the Met were Jessica Stam in Rodarte and Diane Kruger in Chanel.