Vogue launches 'Miss Vogue'

After a month spent languishing in Essex, my friend Eveey picked me up for a stay at her home/palace in Bedford. It's nice to see a different view from the seated position that I spend 99% of the day in, and good to catch up with my friends who have spent the past five months doing a ski season in Samoens. And yes, they do owe me, being the (very) indirect cause of my broken leg. 

During the daily browse of Instagram, we spied a pic of the latest issue of Vogue with an intriguing addition. Naturally we were excited for Eve's subscription copy to land on her doorstep, which it did this morning. 

Launched by British Vogue, Miss Vogue is a brand new publication aimed at a younger audience. Compiled by the team at Vogue, it comprises of similar content (fashion, beauty, celebrity interviews etc) that has been filtered down and transferred into trendy jargon for the new fash brat pack. 

While still embodying the spirit of its mother magazine, the new title targets a younger audience whose interests and budgets vary slightly from that of their parents. It retains the authority of being the number one fashion title, but talks to its readers in a more approachable tone, with a fresh and engaging voice. You still trust all the trend predictions and fashion reports, but you don't feel as pressured into taking their advice. 

The premier edition wisely features the embodiment of this current young rebel fashionista culture on their cover, Cara Delevigne. The successful young model is EVERYWHERE at the moment, as well as gracing the cover, many of the adverts within the mag itself star her distinctive face, framed by her infamous eyebrows. If she's not being papped coming out of hip London clubs with current chart toppers, she's spamming our Instagram feeds with her plethora of 'selfies'. Her distinctive and casual style is the envy of fashion conscious teens the world over, defined by ripped skinny jeans and a beanie hat. It's no wonder that Miss D was chosen for the cover, she is the ultimate idol for their intended audience.

As well as a generous helping of Cara, Miss Vogue is filled with creative and engaging features that appeal directly to the blogging generation. An A-Z of gorgeous featuring numerous spot-busting wonders - perfect for troublesome teen (and, sadly, tween) skin; a peek into the bedrooms of various teenage mini-stars - just the thing for nosey bloggers; an insight into Saturday night for teens across the globe - fun to compare notes with. There's also an interesting and insightful feature on the social dilemmas and personal problems of the 'inbetween' generation, with discussions on body image, sex, drugs and social media. 

The fashion features, while still retaining a slightly designer bias, are much more realistic and obtainable to the teenage shopper, and with outfit ideas for interns and festival-goers, they're bang on the passions and requirements of the reader. Interviews and columns from anarchic fashion designer Henry Holland and Tavi Gevinson, arguably the world's most famous teenager and style blogger, pepper the pages of the magazine, and are exactly the type of quirky and intriguing figures that young fashionistas want to read about.

Overall, I was really impressed with Miss Vogue, and found it much more engaging than  its mother title. I stopped buying Vogue while at uni, partially due to a lack of disposable income for such luxuries and also because I felt more and more alienated from the content. I didn't, nor was I going to have in the forseeable future, £2000 to spend on a blouse, and even if I did have that cash to flash I'd much rather blow it on a high-street trolly dash. I was also never particularly wowed by the features, and found the whole thing too overwhelming as a package.

Miss Vogue is 124 pages, which is much easier to digest than over 200. The features themselves are also shorter, which makes for a much easier read. Although I might be slightly (emphasis on the SLIGHTLY) older than the intended readership, I'll definitely be picking up the next edition, to bridge the gap between the elite (Vogue, Elle, Marie Claire) and the high-street (Look, Grazia).

Raise an eyebrow

I vividly remember the first time I attempted to sculpt my eyebrows. I was about thirteen, and I'd swiped my mum's tweezers out of her make up bag. After numbing my brows with ice cubes (a tip from whichever rubbish teen magazine I was addicted to at the time) I started plucking. Five minutes later and with tears streaming down my cheeks I gave up, having made no progress in my journey for perfect brows. But instead of doing the sensible thing and leaving it until a time when my face could withstand more pain, I decided to cheat. Grabbing a disposable razor from the bathroom cupboard, I once again braced myself in front of the mirror. With the aim of artfully shaping my brows, I took the first swipe...taking off half of my eyebrow in the process. 

Even with precise fringe sweeping my shameful secret was soon revealed at school, much to the amusement of my friends. I vowed never to touch my brows again, a promise that I didn't quite stick to but I haven't brought a razor within an inch of my face since. 

Until recently, thick brows were strictly reserved for scouse women and Susan Boyle. But then a certain aristocratic supermodel popped into social consciousness. Sporting a thick, full brow, Cara Delevingne has made bushy brows the new style de jour. So much so that fashion-conscious women are going under the surgeon's scalpel to mimic her trendy look, which has also been spotted on actress Keira Knightley.

Taking a strip of hair from the back of the head, surgeons transplant individual hair follicles into the eyebrows using a fine needle. The procedure takes place under local anaesthetic and costs around £3,000, PER EYEBROW!!!

I think I'll be sticking with the pencil for now thanks...

Autumn trends

Autumn trends by seoana featuring an army jacket

Falling for Autumn

Autumn has always been my favourite season. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy basking in the sun's glow on a hot summer's day, laying in the park sipping an ice cold cider. And I love curling up under a duvet with a hot chocolate and a box-set, watching the snow fall on a crisp winter's afternoon. But for me, there's nothing better than the autumn. Cold enough so that you have to cover up (I'm talking to all those girls whose staple wardrobe this summer consisted of butt-bearing hotpants - I saw more cheek on their behinds than on their faces), but not so arctic that you get frostbite everytime you step out of the door.

Even though I am no longer a student (cue emotional sobbing as I mourn my lost youth) I still get that nervous excitement that used to come with starting a new school year. New classes, new timetable and, best of all, new stationery! Everything is fresh and unblemished, and there is always the promise that anything can happen; this year can be whatever you decide to make it.

Then there's the beautiful, rich colour palette. The vibrant greenery that has surrounded us all summer transforms as if ablaze, into burning embers and glowing golds. There is such simple joy from traipsing through a park littered with fallen leaves, the crunchy snap as they pass underfoot and the warm, earthy smell. I am so besotted with this transient element of nature, that I once filled a whole page of a sketch book with examples of the prettiest autumn leaves I could find, adorned with some of my favourite seasonal poetry. This may seem laughable as an idea for a university project, but as the lecturer in question was completely mental, I thought she'd fully appreciate it (which she did, thanks for the 1st!).

But the best aspect of my favourite season has to be the clothes. Covering bare legs with thick, coloured tights, enclosing feet in sturdy boots, and layers, layers layers! Not to mention the colours: bye bye pastels (which, as a walking disaster, I could never fully appreciate) and hello to the darkness.

This Autumn I'll be on the lookout for anything in the daring new shade of the season, ox blood. An intense cross between red and brown with a hint of purple, this tone screams luxury and glamour, as well as having a morbid draw for the comparison to its name sake.

I'll also be embracing the great outdoors with smatterings of military chic, in the form of camo-print. I was lucky enough to pick up an army-style coat from a vintage fair recently for the bargain price of £12, a snip compared to Topshop's £75 version.

Something which I may have to turn to Topshop for are a pair of tartan print trousers. I actually picked some up while in store recently, but when I realised I would be parting with £60 for a dress, I sensibly but solemnly put them back on the rack. These bold checks are back on trend again, but with brave injections rather than subtle hints on scarves or bags. Don't worry about being mistaken for a bagpipes player, it's fashion darrrling!

Oh, and of course I'll be needing a new winter coat. There was a definitely chill in the air this morning, and my trusty leather jacket just wasn't cutting it. I've got last year's fur but as it's short, I can't wear any of my lovely long cardies with it, so I need something which I can layer up with. I'm thinking of a classic parka, another nod to the military trend, or a boyfriend style mohair, the bigger the better.

I can sense a huge dent in my bank balance approaching...but hey, it's Christmas soon! Presents anyone?

Forest Critters

Forest Criters by seoana featuring animal rings

Cakes to die for

As my family and friends are all too aware of, I have an undying love for, well, the undying. Zombies - to use the correct term. While the masses will be driven into a widespread hysteria when the zombie apocalypse arrives (and it will), I'll be the three c's: cool, calm and carrying a very large gun. For I have prepared myself with all the appropriate zombie-related literature, quenching my never-ending thirst for all things ghoul-related.

And it isn't just zombies I've got a morbid obsession for, give me anything with gallons of gore and you'll have a happy camper on your hands. The sad irony is that the sight of a mere paper cut can turn my stomach, and has too often sent me crashing to the floor, whimpering like a child.

Anyway, I digress. What inspired me to declare my creepy cravings was a website I came across after glancing at the latest copy of Grazia. With The Great British Bake Off having recently returned to our screens, flour fever has once again swept across the nation. Cue reels of column inches dedicated to this recently resurrected pastime, which has see men (and young, handsome ones at that – I'm steadily developing a mammoth sized crush on James from TGGBO) dusting off their rolling pins and donning their pinnies to get busy in the kitchen.

 

I come from a long line of bakers. My mum, who bakes near enough everyday, is now a pro at making all manner of sweet treats, and for as long as I can remember, my nan has always served freshly baked bread and home-made pies. Since starting uni, I found I had an unfathomable amount of time on my hands, but not a lot of dollar to go on fancy jaunts to fun places. I also discovered, since having no restrictions bar money when it came to food, that I had developed a common student problem of ALWAYS being hungry. I had been craving Debs' (my mum) chocolate brownies, so on my next monthly food shop I stocked up on all manner of ingredients with the aim of conjuring up my own culinary creations in the kitchen. And for the remainder of my time at uni, that's exactly what I did. In my third and final year I was often joined in the kitchen by my house mate Eveey, and we spent many a Friday night cutting some shapes...in cookie dough, rather than on the dance floor.

 

Since finishing uni (sob) and returning home, the baking responsibilities have returned to my mother, and I have become sadly redundant in the kitchen. But I still keep a keen eye out for any baking news, and am constantly hoarding recipes for the time that I find my freedom again.

In the latest Grazia, there was a profile of several hot (but in no way cross) new things on the baking scene. One of which, was Lily Jones AKA Lily Vanilli. After several seconds too long spent gawping at the picture of her delicious looking chocolate ginger cake, I was intrigued to find out more about this interestingly named lady. I headed to her website and, after scrolling though the design gallery, immediately realised that I had come across a kindred spirit.

 

Nestled among a delectable display of unique and modern baked goods, which have filled the stomachs of such fashion royalty as Lulu Guiness, Alexander McQueen and Henry Holland, lay a true taste of the macabre.

 

Shattered glass, bloody body parts and rancid roadkill; these are just some of the morbid creations that Lily has crafted for her London-based bakery. When I recognised the zombie bite design, I realised that this was the very same grim genius who had authored one of my highly-coveted baking bibles, A Zombie Ate My Cupcake. A wonderfully chilling combination of the sweet and the truly sickening, these are definitely not cakes for those with a weak stomach, and are a far cry from the sweet fairy cakes we all recall from childhood.

 

My personal favourite has to be the bleeding heart, featuring an anatomically accurate heart made with red velvet sponge, cream cheese frosting and lashings of blackcurrant and cherry blood. The perfect valentines day gift don't you think?

 

For more images of Lily's wickedly lavish creations, head to my tumblr or check out Lily's blog. Whoever said baking was girly?

Book bags

Book bags by seoana featuring clutch handbags

Bird is the word

Swooping onto the catwalk again this season has been an invasion of all things feathery. Once again, wings are the in thing, as all things birdy have been seen across apparel and accessories. 

From parrot-like brights, to soft and ethereal feather prints, this look has been countlessly interpreted to provide a flock of choice in both the designer and high-street stores. If head-to-toe print isn't your thing, there is a wide range of dainty accessories to channel your inner nature-lover.

As I researched the fashion further, I was overwhelmed with the gorgeous decorative accessories that were available to feature in your home and crafting. Wall stickers, stationery, fabrics, magnets, tea-towels...it's easy to inject a touch of fashion into your everyday life. www.notonthehighstreet.com, my new go-to site for quirky gifts, feature tons of unique home accessories that will set your heart a'flutter. www.willowandstone.com offer a range of pretty prints and birdy stationery, that will make writing lists much less of a chore. I for one am eagerly awaiting the day the magazine goes to print, so that I can 'sample' some of the cute little post-it-notes. Perks of the job and all...

Bird print

Bird print by seoana featuring oversized shirts

Dorothy Perkins orange dress
dorothyperkins.com

Proenza Schouler oversized shirt
lagarconne.com

Blonde Blonde printed shirt
$29 - bankfashion.co.uk

Kenzo crepe pants
$675 - harveynichols.com

High low skirt
sheinside.com

Marc by Marc Jacobs marc jacobs jewelry
bloomingdales.com

Miso ring
$7.92 - republic.co.uk

Rockett St George Large Bird Cage Wall Sticker – Black
$87 - coggles.com

Flock of Metal Flying Birds Wall Art
$32 - dunelm-mill.com

High Heel Hell

Today I am in mourning. For yesterday, my feet died a horrifically painful death at the hands of a pair of black suede wedges. Poor little things just didn't stand a chance. Thanks to a stricter uniform policy at work, in order to tie in with the swanky new suit department, not only did I have to shell out on a new outfit, I had to get the shoes to match. And pumps didn't make the cut this season.

These are the beasts in question. They may look innocent, nice even. That's what I thought when I first tried them on. In comparison to six inch stiletto heels they seemed the lesser of two evils. But an hour in to my shift and I was struggling. Having to constantly concentrate on not falling over was quite distracting. As someone who has never sought the services of heels on nights out, I am not an practised walker. Productivity levels were dramatically decreased. Whereas I used to scoot around the shop floor, getting tasks done quick time, now every movement is a careful one. Forget answering the telephone, if I'm on the other side of the shop floor it takes a good minute to get anywhere near it. "Can you nip out to the stockroom?" No, no I cannot 'nip' any more. I can stumble along at a snail's pace, juttering along like Bambi on ice. All the while I'll be silently weeping, wondering if my feet are leaving bloody trails behind them.


When heels first came about in Ancient Greece, they reflected the social status of the wearer. In Ancient Rome their reputation had dropped, as heels identified prostitutes of the time, which were legal. In the Middle Ages women AND men wore heels. The same was true during 17th and 18th Century France, where the nobility and members of the court would totter around on an original version of clogs. But equality never lasts long does it. While Cowboy boots have a chunky heel, you won't spot many guys sporting a pair in your local shopping centre. Tom Cruise may try and get away with a sneaky hidden heel but not many men are brave stupid enough to try this. 


Since the Second World War heels have gone in and out of fashion, with the 90's seeing a particular disdain for them. But with celebrity culture saturating the fashion conciousness this millennium, anything they do or wear becomes instant inspiration for millions. And seeing as many of these stars are spotted donning Louboutins, women everywhere grin through the tears as they stumble around the office in high-street knock offs. What the magazines neglect to tell its humble readers is that while the celebs may be pictured strutting round the shops in platforms, there is a chauffeur parked outside waiting to whisk them away to their next important appointment. These women may live in heels, but their lives comprise of very little walking.


After some research, and some very gruesome pictures, here is a list of all of the negative side effects of wearing heels:

• Foot pain (For sure)
• Increased likelihood of sprains and fractures.
• They make calves look more rigid and sinewy.
• Foot deformities, including hammertoes and bunions (Eww)
• They can cause an unsteady gait (Definitely going to fall over)
• They can shorten the wearer's stride.
• They can render the wearer unable to run (What if there's an emergency?!)
• Degenerative changes in the knee joint.
• Foot and tendon problems as listed below.

As opposed to these reasons for wearing heels

• They make the wearer appear taller (OK, true)
• They make the legs appear longer.
• They make the foot appear smaller.

According to my calculations, the cons outweigh the pros here.


As I limped around the store last night, the unjustness was hard to ignore. My male colleagues were having no movement issues, because they were all in flat shoes. Smart shoes, but FLAT ones. There they were, skipping around with smiles on their faces, not a care in the world. There I was, using the till point for support as I tried desperately not to sink to the floor and cry. There's no equality in this work place. Fill all of the guys' shoes are filled with broken glass prior to their shifts and then I won't be as bitter.


People tell me I'll get used to it. I don't believe them. I'm just going to have to accept that my time with my tootsies has come to an end. They've had a hard life anyway. It's probably for the best. At least now the tangy scent of blood will be the only smell coming from them...