Take a luxe second (about 6-7 minutes)
And before you digest another fash mag/editorial/advertorial/propaganda-shmanda
Read on:
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The visionaries at Forme Magazine commissioned me to write a piece on my new season nemesis – Normcore.
{Official Disclaimer – before I go any further: I’m not denying it: my ‘trolley push round Waitrose-wear’ is a sports luxe combo which some would call Normcorish – think cashmere sweats + Marant trainers. Truly I’m sorry. But shivering in the freezer aisle for Aunt Bessie? No chance}
That said, my luxe lament on Normcore remains resolute – I hate it.
With a passion.
What’s this sudden obsession for sporting skater/slacker/scuba casuals and calling it ‘a movement’? Months I’ve endured instabland images of my most beloved fashionistas and their wilting wardrobes. And I’ve kept schtum. Even replacing my terrier Boo to nurse Choo’s of an evening, just for comfort.
LFW was literally 50 shades of grey. I know! It’s not right!!
I don’t wanna flick through high-fashion glossies and see bore-off birkenstocks and dull denims. I want theatre, creativity, unattainable amazingness that I can dream about, then copy.
Baggy tee’s and greige roll-necks already pepper my weekly big-shop. Why would I want to come home and be reminded of the kid that stood on my Choo in the fruit and veg aisle.
I digress.
If you fancy a peek at the article. You can read it here
Tomorrow, I’m peacocking my way to Pradasphere to celebrate all that is colourful and good in the world. All that is Miuccia Prada.
The month-long installation’s a weighty affair brimming with Prada archived shoes, bags and general swag. Plus, Harrods are promising new season pieces-to-purchase.
I’m excited.
Mr. Luxe has promised to bring his Amex. We’re meeting for Prosecco o’clock at the Prada pop-up cafe.
Fashion. It’s thirsty work.
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