We Need To Talk About Fashion: feeding you sarcasm bugs since 2016
Tuesday, 12 April 2016
Monday, 4 May 2015
I'm completely burnt out from school and work stuff - it's been a super-long week, and the fact that I'm spending my free day (Yay for Bank Holidays!) working on a presentation is not making the whole situation any better. So, after 3-4 days of thinking about the subject for my next post (which isn't very common for me - before even thinking about it, I already know what I want to talk about), I just decided to share my current obsessions:
1. Bates Motel. Vera Farmiga, the little cute boy from the Charlie & the Chocolate Factory (that isn't so little anymore) and the most beautiful young actress Olivia Cooke (possibly my future lover FYI) make an amazing cast of a prequel to one of my favourite Hitchock pieces - Psycho. In its 3rd season, there are 28 episode of the wonderful cinematography and tons of suspense. Note that I'm not really a horror fan, but this show just makes me want to watch more. But yeah, best tv show ATM so... Game of who?!
2. Spotify (+ the browse button). Yes, I know that UNFORTUNATELY Croatia is not on the Spotify list so you can't really use it there, but for the rest of the world - do join in if you haven't yet. I've always been a fan of the excitement that I get from playing a random Youtube playlist, and I still sometimes do that, but the Spotify Browse section is a place I lose my hours - going through numerous playlists, (re)discovering old and new, and a special love for those late night playlists. It just makes those heavy night hours better.
3. Poundsales. Yes, quite specific but also possibly the best place to be on a weekend. After crying (simbolically, NOT PHYSICALLY) after seeing the amazing Dries Van Noten pieces in Selfridges, I can't help but enjoy going into rails of dirty and smelly clothes and pulling out amazing gems that make me happy as much as Selfridges does. All that for a £ and with a sane conscience of not falling under that produce-buy-throw away process. Yes - buying second hand means being sustainable.
4. Lush (esp. Oxford Street). I've fawned over the new Lush store just off Oxford Circus through all of my social media accounts, but I just can't stop raving about it! The three-story high extravaganza of organic ingredients and unreal smells makes you achieve a visual orgasm (the colours are amazing), while their interior filled with sinks (!!!) makes you want to try everything there is. Plus, the 'fragrance museum' in the lower floor is totally amazeballs - gives your nose a roller-coaster ride.
5. Hampstead Heath. Ahh, my lovely North London! Literally a 10 minute walk from my place, Hampstead Heath is the most wonderful place to be in this shifty springtime weather. And although I'm typically not a big solo-runner (at least not long distance), I pushed myself into going running several times - just for the experience that this park gives you. Screw Hyde, Green or Regent's - Hampstead Heath has the loveliest view (one of the highest spots in London), gives you space to be alone (one of the biggest parks), and is just a pure explosion of greenery (one of the oldest parks). A couple of hours there give me strength to go through my week with a positive mind.
Plus, in the lack of words - just look at the photos!!! Possibly my favourite ones yet from my collaboration with little miss Ali!
|photos by Ali Baïllon|
|Wearing Topshop satin crepe culottes, Gant Rugger turtleneck, DIORALOP vest, Olney straw boater hat, Daniel Wellington watch & Zara studded brogues|
Thursday, 23 April 2015
ok, next topic: HOUSING.
So, as soon as I got back from Zagreb, back in January - I knew I wanted to move out from my lovely aunt's and uncle's place. They were nice enough to host me for a couple of months, when I was just a fresh Londoner, but I truly wanted to experience an independent life as soon as possible. I haven't moved to the other part of Europe, just to find that someone is still cooking my meals. So, the flat hunt began...
Anyone that has ever tried to find
a flat room in London (and possibly other European cities, but I wouldn't know about that) how gruesome the process is - nudging everyone you know if they know anyone who knows anyone to ask anyone who has someone whose friend's girlfriend's cousin just moved out of a pretty little room somewhere that is not Zone 892. Okay, yes I'm exaggerating but that's basically how it starts - people you know and people they know. So, the first stage was quite unsuccessful for me - probably due to the odd time to find a flat (end of January), and not due to the lack of interest spread by my peers (I love you all).
STEP 2: Visit every online page devoted to finding you a new place to live. Gumtree, Zoopla, Spareroom, and even a couple of visits to Craigslist (which resulted in more imaginary sex activity than my prudish self has ever imagined). This part of the search was only partially successful. I contacted probably about 100-150 (not exaggerating) people through the pages above. Maybe a dozen got back to me, and I got to see 4 places to live in total. Spoiler: they all looked absolutely horrible, severely tiny and quite odour-y. A big part of this was my budget. Yes, I come from Croatia, and I wasn't born with a Silver spoon falling out of my mouth. I did start to earn money from the age of 15 (or maybe even earlier), but I was never a saver. From forever, I was a lover of stuff and places so I mostly invested my money in travelling and buying things (most prominently clothes, shoes & accessories). No, I'm not sorry for that although another scenario would help me live completely carefree, but it also most probably wouldn't result me in having a blog and working in fashion. So, the equation has worked in another way. But back to the budget - I knew I wanted to find a flat for the maximum of £600, due to the fact I had just recently got a job as a receptionist and my monthly pay was roughly around that amount. See, in normal places, £600 a month would get you a nice studio flat; in Zagreb - that money would get you a house in the city centre, but in London - it gets you stinkin' little room. Or that's what phase 2 made me think.
STEP 3: If anyone ever says social media is stupid, useless, and a waste of time - please shush them right away. If You are one of those people, prepared to be shushed. As the 1st of February was dangerously approaching, and I was more and more aware that me moving out into a nice place was not quite on the horizon, I got more and more anxious. I'd like to think I'm a person that's always hoping to be more positive than pessimistic, so it was quite a difficult period, a period that was also the time for my Uni hand-ins, which didn't quite make it easier. But, I lived through it with a smile on my face - thanks to my amazing family and friends. However, my amazing family and friends, combined with a smile on my face weren't quite going to find me a place to live. At the proposal of a lovely college mate (thanks Saloni!) and as I was spending tons of time on Facebook - both for school and leisure purposes (FTW for exam/hand-in deadlines!), I started searching for Facebook groups that involved housing in London. I joined probably around 7 of them, all boiling with both too-good-to-be-true (hence, they ARE NOT TRUE) and harshly realistic ads. To make the story short, I was spending all of my free time scrolling through those groups - the best ads were taken in several seconds, the worst ones were left to hang - without a comment or a like. And then, one evening - I stumbled upon an ad about an adorably messy room in Northern London. An adorably messy room that ended up being my huge and adorably clean room that I love so much. And all that for £524 (including bills!).
I absolutely understand I've been incredibly lucky, but I just want to encourage everyone to look and search, have an active mind and a yearning set of eyes. Do not fall for scams, but also do not take pieces of cr*p for gold. Yes, there are tons of sh*tty places, but there are some reasonably priced corners around London (and every other place on the world) that's waiting for you. Also - be ready to pay for a deposit, but that's something that's (pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease) going to be back on your account by the time you move out. GOOD LUCK!
ps. I'm still not completely happy with how my room looks (decoration wise!), but as soon as I will be - I'll share some pics here. If you're really eager, go to my Instagram account and keep and eye on the constant progress and personal corners.
|Photos taken by my designated SBR photographer Ali Baïlon, in the back yard of my amazing flat|
|Wearing a vintage scarf I got from the LMB recyclying centre thanks to the Love Your Clothes initiative, a stripy H&M long-sleeved shirt, Zara linen floral trousers, a 70's polyester-suit jacket that looks like it came from the Brady Bunch rack but cost me £1 at the Mile End poundsale, Giant Vintage sunglasses, a Daniel Wellington watch & a pair of Northern Cobbler ankle-boots|
Saturday, 18 April 2015
To quote my favourite UK talk-show host: 'Ohh, what a week it's been.'
Spilling some liquid around my computer -> computer stop working -> crying -> screaming -> crying -> going to Croatia for a short set of holidays -> sending my computer to the repair-man > doing an exciting new (kinda secret) project -> hanging out & partying with my old friends -&> getting my computer fixed in an awesome turn of events -> being happy -> NOW.
I almost feel exhausted even thinking about these past ten days - it's been everything but physically relaxing, and it was supposed to be my holiday. Now that I'm back in London, it's time to work, meet deadlines (training my writing muscle!), and live my real life. It has honestly been tricky juggling my idea of a London life and the reality of my London life. The constant question that has been popping on and on again - an exciting smile
on around not-friend, not-stranger's face and asking me 'So... How's London?'
I've been refraining myself from saying anything too in depth (in true London style) and mostly answered - 'It's amazing, I love it.' That's when the conversation stopped because the other person got exactly what he/she/it wanted - a confirmation of the amazing London life. And when you get the answer you want, you most probably don't ask any more questions. But it's not - I still have the same problems of waking up, the dilemma of being late, having to eat, pee AND poop, the constant (no) love problems, and all that jazz. However, there are those magic moments, that happen probably too rarely. Moments when you realise - yes you need to poop and pay rent, but hey - YOU'RE POOPING AND PAYING RENT IN LONDON. And then, during those several magic moments you feel amazing and lightweight, it's the time when you respect all your decisions. Decisions to move out of the safe comfort (food) zone of your parent's home, leaving most of your friends behind and experiencing something new just because you think there's an opportunity. Thankfully, I met amazing people and am studying what I absolutely love and enjoy doing (which I promise to talk about in one of the future posts) - which definitely makes giving £87 for a month of transport much easier.
So please - don't ask the 'So, how's London?' unless you're ready to hear a story about pooping in one of the most disgusting toilets in Hyde Park. Another time. Maybe...
ps. I truly didn't expect this post to turn into a digestion diary. Sorry for that. x
|photos by Ali Baïlon|
|Sassy attire featuring Angela Lukanovich blazer, H&M white t-shirt, vintage fatman trousers from Beyond Retro, Zara belt, Massimo Dutti shoes, Giant Vintage sunglasses|
Thursday, 2 April 2015
Oh, gosh. Starting again.
Well, explaining the past couple of months (in fact it's almost 3, and I've just recently fully realised 'a couple' means exactly 2!) would be absolutely unnecessary, yet there is a kind of obligation I feel in the air.
What the hell have I been doing?
A lot of different things in fact. Most proudly, I (more-less) had successfully finished my first unit at London College of Fashion!!! I had also moved from my aunt's place into my own little paradise, one that even has a huge garden (omg check it out by scrolling). I have started working part-time as a receptionist in a pilates studio.
And I'd also won the lottery. These past couple of months have been quite a roller-coaster of different emotions, responsibilities, news and olds. All wrapped up into a bunch of amazing pieces I've found at the Mile End pound-sales, one of which is the seminal dark denim MADE-IN-USA workman suit you'll see down there. I promise I'll do a good run through all of my works here on SBR, but if you're oh, so crazily excited about seeing them, you can do so RIGHT NOW by going to my Vimeo page.
But Dino, You haven't answered the most important question - why did you come back?
Thank You for asking Dino. The thing is - I realised I absolutely miss this lil' ol' platform called stylebrickroad.com, perfectly made for all the food-for-thought I come up with in my spare time. I know it's kinda pastiche (and very 2005) of me to say this but - I don't want to spend my money on a shrink when I spill my beans and feel better about myself via my computer AND for free. Inspired by all those intense marathons of watching incredibly same-y, existentially dependent TV shows as part of my research for my next project at LCF (I know, it's just an excuse) I felt a diary-like way is the best way of sharing any bees buzzing around my northern extremity also known as my head. Just scroll back up (or just look up if you're lucky enough to have that amazing 9109890471 inch iMac) at the opening GIF and you'll get the gist of it. Plus, I've decided to use all my stunningly talented friends to take photos of my of-the-moment outfits, just to make it easier for the readers (aka you) to digest my random thoughts. Yes, I know I'm packing personal problems into fashion but that's how we all like it, no?
So, what now?
Omg Dino, your questions are AMAZING - it's like you exactly know what I'm thinking of next! But SBR has kinda made a full circle - it came from a painstakingly simple 'outfit-photos-and-a-bit-of-gibberish' kind of blog into a more serious (or so I'd like to believe it) fashion-concentrated platform. But now that I've achieved that all-life goal of The Fashion running my life, I'd like to go back to what this first was - a collection of thoughts, images and narcissistic self-indulgence with a life-long need for attention. Yes, I'm a product of the Rachel of Friends, Seinfeld of Seinfeld, Carrie of Sex and the City, Hannah of Girls, and most recently Kimmy of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt - all of which are self-indulging narcissistic asses in need of attention. Well, if all of them got millions of viewers to make feel better about themselves, I can get
a couple several hundred people to read this. AND COMMENT.
Yes, the comments section is now OPENED, so please feel comfortable to share your own food for thought, even if you think it's random, even if you think no one else is interested - believe me, it feels SO GOOD.
And don't get me wrong - I still enjoy studying/following/looking at/analysing fashion, maybe I'll even work inside it, but writing about it here while secretly trying to outdo every other million of people attempting in the same challenge is just not making me want to do it the same way.
I think I love fashion, I want to think I live fashion, but most probably I am 'just' in love with it.
|photos by my incredible friend and fellow MA Fashion Media Production student Ali Baïlon|
|Wearing a second-hand £1 denim workman suit, dad's old turtleneck, flea-market bracelet, Casio watch, H&M necklace, and Creative Recreation trainers (also known as a cheaper love-child between adidas' Stan Smith & adidas' Rick Owens shoe)|