1. eau de ooli: hippy stix lounge suit

if a unicorn princess had sex with bob dylan then its daughter would like look like this; a barefooted, wandering gypsy with bells on her ankles, long flowing gold-i-locks and dressed in a billowing grubby white genie suit. oh, and a kate moss (circa pete doherty) esque panama hat which you’re sure just miraculously floated up to her on the breeze from the ocean while she was undertaking her days work; braiding feathers into hair, painting blurry photos of stoned cats or performing upside down head stand scissor kick contortionist moves. i can’t even begin to explain how marvellous the genie suit (which i became fond of calling a ‘lounge’ suit’) really is. its sort of body suit pyjamas meets cat woman at the beach. and even though that combination should be enough to make you cough up your soybean salad it somehow manages to be organically, casually sexy without being slutty.

the tie up (correct – like the criss cross lacing that pamela anderson was so fond of in the 90’s) should be hideously tarty especially as it allows the neckline of the suit to pretty much dip down to navel level but it works in that sort of less is more way. with the addition of the panama, the bells and bare feet this suit becomes the single most gorgeously ridiculously, impractically, sexy, comfortable item of clothing i have ever worn.

it may defy every single law of style, fashion and tailoring known to woman but i sure as shit hope that it’ll soon be coming to a paisley couch near you.

x j.
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eau de ooli

though i confess that i covet some celebrities’ style so much that i frequently claim that i want to ‘fucking cut off their skin and wear them’ i’ve never been much good at being a loyal follower of anyone In particular. quite simply my attention span mirrors that of a goldfish. nonetheless the idea of profiling is a writing style that i like. so here i go with the amalgamation of visuals, love and many-a-personal joke type description.

ooli (as her alter ego is so aptly named), isn’t a celebrity, (though she sure as shit should be) but is the one person, out of all the people i know who claim to be similar to carrie bradshaw who actually is. i’ve stolen that sentence directly from her mouth. she used it to address me, but, in contrast to her vision of me perched all bradshaw-esque at my window sill, tap-tap-tapitying away at my lap top, chain smoking, sipping an espresso martini and inhaling banana chips (yeh thats right 3 hands – que pasa bitches?) leg up on the desk, dressed in some amazingly ridiculous outfit of sparkly grandma bloomers, a basketball singlet and happily whiling away the hours deep in analytical virgo thought about ‘black hearts’ or ‘the death of chivalry’… my vision of her is interwoven with bradshaw’s by her wardrobe, though i like to think of ooli’s wardrobe more like a treasure box.

in actual fact victoria (the aforementioned ooli) presents nothing like bradshaw but it is her utter disregard for rules (both societal or style) and reckless abandon with which she approaches dressing that links them together.

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having met victoria overseas and travelled to many a dusty paradise our friendship has evolved over countless primping, outfit assembling, fashion angel sessions. despite the obvious restrictions that travel places on you in terms of rules of practicality and following weight guidelines on aeroplanes victoria heeds none and apologises just as often. her ‘bags’ (multiple) spew out the most bizarre, wonderful and ludicrous items of ‘clothing’ imaginable; denim overalls, skirts, skorts, maxi dresses, mini dresses, ponchos, genie pants, boy’s t-shirts, one-zies, promo shirts from EVERY bar in town, body suits, scuba suits, drances, and more bikinis than you can find at bondi on a summers day. and i say ‘clothing’ because it doesn’t stop there…somewhere she manages to find room for flat brimmed caps, suspenders, platformed sneakers, head wreaths woven from plastic flowers, bandanas, scarves, water pistols, blow up bambi’s and all the other shiny objects she manages to collect – not dissimilar to a maternal magpie carrying out their interior decorating chores.

ooli follows no rules or style guidelines; she wears jackets as skirts, bandanas as bras, sunflowers as big as her head on her head, skirts as tops, pairs florals with stripes, paisley with football socks and rainbow crochet with tye dye denim.

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when you watch ooli dress (very pervy!) you start to comprehend that its not so much a chore or a human process, it’s a fucken full stage theatrical performance complete with shiny props and mishaps where she trips over a wooden platform or gets a lacy pink g-string stuck to her foot (usually mine). when she sets out to dress this girl isn’t just covering her body or even endeavouring to impress a boy.. no, i fully believe that vic dresses to character every single time she goes out, or at least she conceptualises a certain look and evolves with it until it is her. one day she’s a dishevelled, guitar playing gypsy in a white lounge-suit, the next she’s a frat boy-esque meets science nerd cheer leader, a munted yellow-haired golliwog in deep orange overalls that look like they were made out of heshian sacks stolen from the bakery or a barefooted sunflower so innocent looking you think she has rainbows flavoured nipples.

you’d be right in thinking that this is a lengthy process. correct. every single fucking night whilst yelling at her ‘ooli SIN MAMARDERING, i swear to god woman…STOP FUCKING SHUFFLING’ she carried on this ritualistic dance and every single night i thought to myself ‘what the fuck is she doing? (of course with all respect and love intended) there is no way those knee high socks will go with that bowtie/sequinned sash, tribal print poncho, polka dotted onesie, crocheted body suit, high waisted mustard denim shorts’ or that she’ll be able to carry off ‘preppy school boy meets debbie does dallas’ but every night, as i looked down at my own maxi uniform of denim cutoffs and a plain white/grey/black loose singlet I WAS WRONG.

so, herein lies my point; the girl takes risks, and yeh, so do a lot of people but i’m not convinced that for them it is purely organic. with vic, i’ve seen all of her superheroes floral and other develop from a miss mesh of colours and textures on the floor, i’ve seen her dance around her obese, exploding bags tripping on bikini strings and half sucked chupa chups and build it all from scratch. the risk bit is what makes her more carrie-esque than anyone else i know, who claim with a superficial affinity for labels or ability to (mis)match dior with something vintage or ‘from topshop’….whoop de fucking vintage fur whoooooop. remember that fugly newspaper dress that carrie wears to confront natasha after having an affair with Big? nobody likes that dress but carrie doesn’t give a fuck. nor would ooli.

without any further mamardering let me introduce you to eau de ooli; the princess herself, and, all the captivatingly, wildly beautiful facades, themes and characters of my wonderful friend victoria.

xx j.

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(all photographs stolen from ooli herself)

Blue pleats .

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M wears skirt by Zara, bracelets from Mykonos .

One cannot help but glance over European holiday photos to inspire an outfit for the perfect spring day . Unfortunately it was a wasted outfit . Nonetheless this skirt is still a favourite, I only wish I hadn’t listened to my sister and bought the blazer in the same colour .

M .

spring, summer & pastels .

I tend to have random spurts of inspiration to post and in this case it’s because I have insomnia….my fault of course! note to self; stop napping after work to then wake up 6 hours later and then procrastinate in applying St Tropez fake tan. did i mention its 4:30am here in Australia!?

The weather is warming up fast and we’re starting to see the layers of clothes disappear – slowly being replaced by ripped shorts and flowy dresses . It’s even almost time to put the fake tan back in the cupboard and gladly replace it with natural sun kissed skin. I can’t help but get excited about the upcoming season and the trends it will bring .

It seems that throughout spring and summer we will see fabrics adorned with vivid colours, as well as soft neutrals and pastels – in particular, soft mint green has proved popular on the runway and on the likes of fashion icons such as Jessica Stein & Nicole Warne . We’re also seeing red as a prominent colour, lace and crochet tops, and not to mention floral prints still remain on the racks . I feel that when it does come to floral prints you need to be careful that you don’t end up looking like a flower threw up everywhere, my recommendation is to veer in the direction of Zimmermann, you can’t go wrong with their floral prints, they just utter perfection .

Images from Tuula Vintage, Gary Pepper Vintage, Song of Style .

M .

Don’t hate what you don’t understand .

Just some food for thought on a Thursday . Former Beatles member John Lennon was notorious for his influential perspectives on life . My favourite quote of his is;
“When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.”

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Peace .

M .

ignorance is bliss…sometimes .

Following a conversation with a colleague today, we delved upon a realm of escaping reality via the ‘ignorance is bliss’ concept, I subsequently began to ponder on that hypothesis with regards to my finances . Someone once said that money spent on experience or education is never wasted money . To be exact that someone is my fellow Honey&Hook blogger J .
I have a little substance abuse problem I like to call shoe shopping . In particular my addiction applies to the likes of Christian Louboutin platforms, Chanel ballet flats, Yves Saint Laurent Tribute heels, Miu Miu booties, and the list goes on…
Call me pretentious, whatever, I’ve heard it before . But those of you with that preconceived notion fail to realise that these are the designers who convert an innovative idea in to a unique and artistic creation . this is then replicated, or as I like to call it, stolen, by commercial brands and then mass produced .

I understand that the average consumer either;

  1. cannot afford such luxury items, or
  2. think its a waste of money

But I think there needs to be a reciprocated admiration for those who have an appreciative comprehension of the designers themselves . Picasso once said that art is theft . I understand his perspective and although this may be true in some instances, I don’t completely agree with it . Art is established from inspiration, this I don’t call theft, if you scroll further down this post you will understand what I’m referring to .

Now that I have gone off in tangents I should be a little more succinct with my initial introduction . I recently enrolled in to a Fashion Business course commencing next month . Coinciding with this, my car rego and insurance has eaten my funds away . I still also have 2 more payments for my course (which aren’t cheap!) . Despite these impending financial burdens, there is a pair of Miu Miu ankle booties that I cannot live without and have proven extremely difficult to source . However my persistence has prevailed and I have located a pair for $478 – a bargain if you ask me . Now the question is, do I spend the money even though I have outstanding credit card bills with more fees to incur, or do I bite the bullet and succumb to the bliss of ignorance and buy them? how much interest can I possibly incur? And besides, these shoes will always be amazing, even when my kids find them in 20 years time (I don’t have kids yet lol) .

These are the amazing Miu Miu booties .

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Now this is what I call theft .

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Peace .

M .

colour me purple.

so, admittedly i’m not the biggest fan of Lindsay Lohan but when i stumbled across her photo shoot for Purple Magazine in late 2010 i was completely captivated. Shot by Terry Richardson who is notorious for his provocative-verging-on-obscene photography style the shoot doesn’t fail to disappoint in pushing the envelope.

Despite the uncertainty around whether Richardson is a perverted creep or an utter genius he’s got me sitting up and paying attention.

Whilst Richardson utilizes the strategies of many photographers alike; risque poses, states of undress, questionable surroundings and smatterings of ‘reality’ his images seem to capture a rawness that many others fail to. Perhaps thats just his game but i know that when i look at this shoot i feel like i’m possibly viewing pieces of Ms Lohan’s genuine persona. Capturing fleeting moments and images of reality on film are so difficult, because, obviously when a camera is present there is always an element of facade working to veil it. A filthy sleaze he may be but Richardson deserves credit for his innate ability to captivate his audiences by photographically straddling the fine line between reality and fantasy.

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photographs from www.highsnobiety.com

and the infamous Terry Richardson himself….

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I have a sneaking suspicion that Richardson’s decision to style this shoot just so was more than tactical. His success in capturing the rawness of Lohan’s personality and (questionable) innocence forayed him into further shoots with her for Love Magazine earlier this year.

xx j.

McQueen, signature red soles & vintage YSL .

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M wears Daffodil platform heels by Christian Louboutin, vintage shirt, vintage YSL pin, arty ring by YSL, skull ring by Alexander McQueen, heart rings by Jewels by Jacqueline .

My toes are still slightly throbbing from the Louboutins . Despite falling over every 5 seconds when i first wore them they are the most amazing pair of shoes I own . Every time I wear them I can at least say I extend my walking distance by 20m without falling over . Tonight I didn’t even stumble, success!!

Xx M .

Zimmermann & Chanel in Rome .


M wears dress by Zimmermann, sandals by Witchery, bag by Chanel .

I spent 3 full days in Rome with the intention of sight seeing . No actually that’s a lie, I wanted to shop! I did attempt sight seeing, but I became bored and irritable at the exhausting heat that consumed Rome…and my make up!
After visiting the main attractions i.e. the colosseum, we detoured to the Via Condotti . Basically this is heaven for shopping; Chanel, Dior, Louboutin, YSL, Prada, Miu Miu and anything you could want in an arms reach – half of which is almost inaccessible or limited in Australia . I ended the day with a few more YSL rings, a large Louis Vuitton ‘never full’ bag and cosmetic case .

Despite my lack of interest at the time for the historical monuments around me Rome is a beautiful city . I’d love to go back and explore it more, actually walking in to the colosseum this time . And of course some more shopping wouldn’t hurt…besides you can never have enough YSL . or Louis . or Chanel . or maybe anything haha .

Xx M .

be mine baby.

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taking inspiration (as i often do) from my very fashion-knowledgable and always immaculately presented friend Mel i made my trip to Paris this year a pilgrimage to Yves St Laurent. Having admired Mel’s many, many gorgeous YSL rings for a long time getting myself one was top priority. i am fully willing to admit that if i had to choose between seeing the Eiffel Tower and getting to YSL i’d be happy to settle for looking at pictures of the tower in Lonely Planet. i am not much of a ‘jewellery for the sake of jewellery’ wearer, and while i know that it is an amazing way to compliment clothing it’s not how i roll. i prefer to have a relationship with all of my jewellery. some of it is expensive, some of it is merely pieces of string with odd keys, bells & beads tied onto it but every piece has a story. not only was it satisfying to buy myself such a beautiful, unique piece of jewellery and a reminder of how hard i had worked to be where i was in the world but buying it came at a pretty poignant moment of my trip. as in many tales of travel i’d just realised i was the loser in a blissfully romantic but hopeless entanglement of the heart that i’d been engaged in and was feeling a little fragile. proving that timing really may be something, ysl entered my life right on queue. i couldn’t think of better (or more gorgeous) therapy for a broken heart.

boys are fleeting, ysl is forever and my only regret now is not buying 4 more 😉

xx j.