here's a toast to spring

I will never stop singing its praises, it is quite simply perfection as far as style (fashion and home) is concerned. In Toast world I would live very comfortably, never wanting for more. It really is that simple. There's a very nice new feature on their website called Toast Travels (no, they haven't started selling holidays), a cultural scrapbook (a kind of blog, really) of delightful visual stuff as well as some written bits and bobs that are quite inspiring and dream-inducing. Tonight I also noticed that my current obsession features heavily in their online catalogue. Will wear, must order!

super

So remote is it here that I only heard of Superdry last Christmas during our stay in London. Whilst we did quite a bit of shopping we somehow missed this one completely (I was too distracted by Anthropologie and Topshop not to mention my frantic search for a pair of Bailey Button Uggs - so over them now) until that is, we came to Gatwick. There, in the departure hall, quietly humming away, was Superdry. Looking like some Japanese interpretation of Abercrombie and Fitch when in fact it's 100% British. We all had a browse and got our plastic out one last time before boarding the plane and heading back to our well-known retail-free safety-zone (Ticino). I came away with their cute lumber twill shirt in rodeo blue and today I'm working the look for the first time, celebrating the arrival of spring. The website doesn't do the clothes any justice in fact I suggest you skip the site and go straight to their  blog which is so much better. Check it out.

80's girl

Indulging in a bit of 80's Free Association, something surprising came up. I was (ahem, I AM) a bit of a Simple Minds freak. Who knew? Well, it's news to me but I'm having quite the time of my life singing at the top of my voice to Waterfront and Alive and Kicking. I know the whole white tights, black boots and flappy coat look (on men) doesn't seem like much but stick Jim-I-like-to-wave-my-arms-about-Kerr in 'em and I beg to differ. Phwoar! I mean what WAS Patsy Kensit's problem?

For me, music-wise the 80's where all about big anthems, right? Simple Minds, U2 and Tears for Fears. Real big-time anthems though, not the repackaged crap that the Ministry of Sound have been trying to sell us for the past 10 years on Amazon.

So while I was watching a few of those oldies but goodies on youtube it became obvious how very unsophisticated they were - compared to let's say Beyonce and Lady Gaga's Video Phone video. Beyonce can wipe the floor with her productions as can most other current and cutting edge artists, but there's something quite endearing and raw about all that 80's footage. I know, you had to be there and as I type I'm realising that my age is unashamedly revealing itself through my rant, but still... I'm proud and I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Christ, have you SEEN Bono in With or Without You?

cars again

Well if you know me well, you'll know I'm a petrol-head - and if you've been reading the blog then you may have guessed. The fact that I have 3 males in my household is purely an excuse to indulge in my auto-passion without appearing like too much of a freak. I mean don't get me wrong I can do "girl" reasonably well, I've got  the long hair and I occasionally wear skirts and wouldn't be seen dead without make-up, but there are times when I love talking cars just as much as the next bloke. Let's just make out that it has everything to do with style and then everyone's happy and we don't have to worry about compartmentalising too much. Alright? Can we move on now?
With this year's Geneva Motor Show drawing to a close (I promise next year I will go, I PROMISE!), I can't help but write about them. Cars. Which reminds me: how about NOT having bikini-clad girls draped over cars (so weird to me) but instead doing the right thing, the much more natural thing and have guys, suitably attired and posing in a cool (not naff) way next to the 2011 models.  Does the car industry really still believe in this outdated presentation-mode? (Feel free to answer). For next year, let's use my updated male-presentation-mode. That would be really nice and I'd actually go then, not just say that I would. 
So yeah cars. How much does it matter what cars people drive? I'd say it kind of depends on your perspective. You see for me there's an unavoidable link to style and therefore it becomes an aesthetic rather than a practical matter. I can hear you there, in the background, chuntering something along the lines of "...only need it to get from A to B" and "...environmental repercussions..." and you've lost me, I'm afraid. And before you say any more let me just remind you that this, is a one-car-household (and there aren't many of those around nowadays) so my eco-guilt is practically negligible. I just like people and their cars. Well, let me re-phrase that. I like some people and their cars. I don't particularly get turned on by blokes (no matter how gorgeous) cruising along in Citroen's version of the Noddy car (of which there really are way too many round here, it has to be said). Instead I kinda like pick up trucks and I love old Porsches and there's something a bit sexy about Ferraris and Lambos.  It's birdwatching by any other name. Just something pleasing to the eye that occasionally also gets your pulse racing (the engine, not the bloke of course).

I care not a jot for defining people by what they drive, that is an altogether different sport for which I have neither time nor enthusiasm. To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, just think of Steve McQueen in one of his many Porshes (or in his Jag below), Sean Connery's Aston, Jay Kay and his Ferrari-love and take a look at beautiful Jimmy Dean below.
PS: This lovely blog is one of my favourites. No words but pictures that say it all and more.  

Honda "Impossible Dream" Commercial

must be big

How absolutely fantastic are large sunglasses? Was reminded of this by my friend D. who breezed by on her bike today looking wonderfully spring-like and glam in her mimosa yellow cardi, tencel jeans and unbelievably large shades. It's a bit like marmite I guess, you either love it or hate it. John Lennon wireless teeny weeny circles? I really don't think so. Larger than large where's-your-face plastic circles?  Mmm, yes please!  I'm already dying to hit the shops* and see what the high street and designers are serving up this season. Thankfully this style doesn't look like it's ever going to go away so you'll find most designers come up with their own version season after season. I am so grateful. It's all to do with glamour and who wants to live without THAT? Nina Ricci relaunched "big" with a fantastic collection of coloured frames (picture below) dedicated to the very one and only Jackie O. What do you think? Gorgeous, eh?

I've also been drooling over Tom Ford...well not really him but his S/S10 eyewear collection - find it here. But don't stop at the eyewear, go navigate round the entire website it'll make you go weak at the knees. Mr Ford is such a style master. 

I'll be indulging my Jackie O passion as usual at the local H&M store where I'm always guaranteed to find at least 3 or 4 superduper oversized styles to stop my craving; and all at the very ridiculous price of CHF 12. I say just buy 2 of each style and be done with it.

*this time I'm not complaining, the local stores offer a very satisfying selection of eyewear collections.

I am SO finished

Hello my darlings! Whilst last February seems to have been alight with frenzied productivity here on the blog, I've just noticed that we are already halfway through February twentyten and not a peep has been published. Accept my apologies for this annoying inconvenience and let me just announce that I am disrobed of this God-awful winter mist and ready to chatter away into spring. I want to take you back to this and let you know what happened next.  Oh, don't worry it all weaves back into the whole Style-thing, I'm not about to force you down my own little Memory Lane just for the hell of it. Consistency is paramount.
Well, after the beaches of southern California (still the best and please take me back there NOW) I decided that No, this was not quite the 'feel' I was after. Instead I pursued my true love. London. I left all my beloved loved ones behind and boldly boarded that plane headed for Gatwick and a promise of exciting Londoney things. A juxtaposition of two locations more opposed would probably not have been possible. From the laid back, barefoot, bareskinned sandy, sunny beach-life, I arrived smack-bang in the middle of Barbour-clad-hooray-Henry-Fulham (Parsons Green, guys - need I say more?) and was duly kitted out in Laura Ashley's latest pinafore (I know! the words "impossible" and "OMFG" are dancing round my dreamy head too right now). And guess where I was going to start my post-California-High-School-of-Distinction education? No, not the London School of Economics, nor Kings College or the Royal College of Art; heck! not even RADA! (chip on my shoulder, moi?) No dears, I was teetering off to Knightsbridge's Brompton Road, to Lucie Clayton Secretarial College (Finishing School to you and me) to be groomed and finished well and proper.  The only thing that keeps me from NOT EVER MENTIONING THIS IN PUBLIC is the fact that Joanna-goddess-Lumley was a pupil too. Admittedly she took the modelling course that was oh-so popular throughout the 60's and 70's whereas I decided to go for the sensible, emancipated 80's option and chose Shorthand (I am soooo good at it, yet it serves me not a jot) and Typing (I am soooo fast at it) and, I hope you're ready for this, Flower Arranging (you'd never know), Grooming (I insist that Mum not Lucie taught me everything I need to know here) and Law (consisting of a very dishy, only just graduated London lawyer popping round to have his ego massaged by a room full of 19 year olds). People, the stories I could tell on this unbelievable excuse of an "education" and how I could make your eyes water by revealing the fees!
I suppose the only real skill that I can boast having gained over, I dunno, YOU LOT, is that I know exactly how to get IN and OUT of a sports car in a mini skirt, without flashing my knickers. A very useful skill if you're a wannabe posh bird, say from Cheshire, pursuing a more 'lucrative' life in London. Let me also add that at the school there was in fact, in the middle of the grand classroom, the ludicrous wire frame of a sports car into which we had to gracefully climb in, and out of. Oh, I just don't have time for this. I like to laugh about it now because finally I can (!) and I realise that it really was a very special place once (not in my time unfortunately). And of course in spite of it all I met one of my best friends there. Sarah A. She was my saving grace and got me through it with so much laughter and so many jokes that live on to this day. We both knew it was a stop-over to bigger and better things. Incidentally we both ended up in fashion (she went to Rifat Ozbek and I went to Katharine Hamnett) and that was seriously cool. So, a worthwhile educational experience nonetheless? It probably was. At Lucie Clayton's we were all part of something unique which just about cut the mustard, then. Now it would most certainly be laughed off the edge of a cliff and of course it's not called "Lucie Clayton" but has been relaunched as the imposing and politically correct "Quest" with not a flower or young lawyer in sight. It would interest me to know how much really has changed since my time there.
So, back to Joanna Lumley. Would she have ended up as Purdy or Pats WITHOUT the Lucie Clayton connection?
I DON'T THINK SO.

can't YOU feel it?

How does it feel for you? Isn't it the same for everyone? To me it's flying. A huge welling up of an enormous emotional tidal wave that takes me all the way up to where I belong. It definitely makes me cry (most things do now) and it gives me chills. It makes me feel like a child again. Without it I'd be dead inside. My inspiration, my imagination and my life are fuelled by it. It cons me into thinking that I can move like Michael Jackson, nevermind sound like him. It has no gender, makes me feel like I could be a man just as well as a girl, I love that! My healthy obsession. Music. Not all music obviously. I have my standards or my level (as Mr R would point out dryly). I'm a teeny bit mainstream but my passion is true and I feel it. Deeply. I can do Elvis and Frank just as much as I can do Jay Z (surprising, isnt' it?). I love music more than any other art - nothing fills me with more hope, happiness and strength. I have a longstanding tug-of-war going on with my husband along the lines of "passion does not equal obsession". He thinks I've gone over the edge when I listen to one particular piece of music constantly for, dunno, 3 months. I can't help it if it makes me feel so good and so happy. Through no fault of their own, both our sons are now also showing (encouraging) signs of this finely tuned sensitivity to music. One more so than the other but both are definitely "on their way". I was considerably (I want to use the verb "brainwashed" but that would be so wrong) influenced by my own parents (father - Frank Sinatra, mother - Julio I. and Demis R. oh yes!) and I'm very grateful for it.
Back to the here and now: we are having a very long, very emotional MJ moment and it won't be long till  my youngest (with his iPod firmly plugged into his ears) will be able to recite the entire repertoire of songs including the dates they were recorded. It's a start. Actually it's a very good start. A fantastic musical foundation on which to build future passions, I think. So from our long, emotional MJ moment (have we done our 10,000 hours yet, Rich?), here are some firm family favourites. Feel it, it's just like flying.
PS: In my music fantasy, when I act out the video sequence of "The Way You Make Me Feel" I never know who I want to be more, MJ or the cool chick. How weird is that?

wehey!

One year guys, one whole year of The Style Inside. It started on a whim and look at it now. My own little blog, chugging along and churning out (fairly) regular short stories and thoughts on style. Happy Birthday, blog. Am not having a cake or a party but what I'd simply love is a little retrospective exercise to remind me what the readers really like. You'll see 2 new items on the left: firstly I've added a blog archive divided into months, this contains all the 2009 posts starting with the very first one a year ago today. Secondly above that, you'll see the so-called retrospective exercise, in other words a simple poll. Answer the question (anonymously and even if you're a newcomer) by just clicking the month that features your favourite story. Of course it would thrill me to bits if you were to actually give me an indication or a key word from the exact story by placing a comment here, but I feel that would be pushing it. I know how precious everyone's time is, so a simple click will do. Really.

Needless to say I am nothing without you, dear readers, so let me embrace you with gratitude.

looking ahead, not down

Clinging on for dear life here in little old Verscio, mid-January with no sign of spring WHATSOEVER the only glimmer on my horizon at the moment is the thought of a forthcoming birthday... but hang on, even that's not exciting anymore. I don't mean to sound ungrateful but a good old moan, especially now, in the chill of this first 2010 month is something that a few of  you may feel like doing too - whether you live here in Verscio or in Manhattan. Same difference. Mind you it won't last. The grimness. It never does. And especially not here. It's only a phase and if I can only inch my way through it, keeping my head down and remembering to boil the kettle and feed the kids between tweets and statuses, I'll be just fine.

Eventually I'll pinch myself, wake up and focus on the positive as always and work hard at making our dreams come true:       
                                     

                                    Travelling far far and beyond with Mr R and the lads, and...

   

                                           

                                                       Happy New Year everyone.

Number Six London

 

I love menswear and especially if it knows exactly what it's doing, ie. if it has the courage of its convictions. So, if you're a guy (aged teen to well and truly matured) and you like cool and if you happen to be in London then head straight down to Brick Lane to get yourself kitted out with some sharp typically London-cool wardrobe staples. Just thought I'd mention it. I'm talking about Number Six (aka When We Were Casuals).  The lads  there say that they have some new tricks up their sleeves for 2010, just visit their blog for a preview. If you're in a rush and don't have time to visit their website, here are some of the brands you'll find there: Lyle & Scott Vintage, Fila Vintage, Barbour, Farah Vintage, Adidas Originals, Fred Perry, Napapijri, and so many more. In fact everything that a man's heart desires when it comes to looking pretty darn good.

Oh, and I almost forgot: sooner or later everyone in our family seems to develop a thing about shoes (fetish, passion, obsession, call it what you like) so we got understandably but unreasonably excited when we saw this!

rado

I know what you'll say... "living in Switzerland is just one great big excuse for writing about watches" and although you're not entirely wrong, there are other things that can set ones pulse racing round these parts, apart from a good watch. I'll write about those another time however.

In the meantime, I will rant on about a few watches that have become increasingly hard to ignore, they are hypnotising in their beauty.  So reminiscent of the 80's but so much better now, in 2010. RADO's r5.5 award winning collection designed by British design God Jasper Morrison marks the company's third phase of a very successful cooperation with the designer. Morrison's approach of giving minimalist design a unique character goes hand in hand with Rado's aesthetic concept.  Rado watches are not for everyone, all that monochrome can get a bit hard to live with, but they are deserving of their iconic status, for their design consistency if nothing else. They've never been my cup of tea, I must admit, but this is different. I want one of these. The watches are unmistakeably Rado but Jasper Morrison's touch has given them a powerful contemporary edge and also a bit of sex appeal which always helps, doesn't it?

Read up on Rado's commendable efforts in promoting young designers here and check out radostar.com, an exciting social networking platform launched at the Salone del Mobile 2009 by the brand; it is conceptualised and produced purely with international design students in mind. How cool.
For all you Rado die-hards there's also an iPhone App... Get it, go on, you know you want to.

cleanse

In an attempt to renew energy levels and cleanse the system of all the toxins contained within copious amounts of Prosecco, Bailey's, Nocino and the odd glass of red wine that were consumed over the festive season (I won't even mention the snickety snacks and all that chocolate), I went browsing through the chemists and health food stores over the last few days and got hideously sidetracked by the vast amount of exquisite little packets and delicate boxes of vintage-looking concoctions that seem to be very popular round here. The Swiss, the Italians and the French do remedies and toiletries like no others and these coloured gems caught my eye immediately. They'd do well in one of those gorgeous shops on Columbia Road and would probably sell for 5 times the amount that they cost here. At first glance you'd be forgiven for thinking they contain soap.

Not sure how useful digestive pastilles will be to me in my quest for purification, but they mean well. And they look gorgeous, especially in my bathroom.

twentyten

Happy New Year everyone, lovely to be back and looking forward to spending many happy blogmoments with all of you!  Is it me, or does the number 2010 emanate positivity in great big tidal waves?

did you know...?

As some of you may know, in my other part time job I teach English. I came late to teaching and found it to be surprisingly really rather satisfying and not the nerve-wracking experience I always imagined it would be. My first ever lesson was of course Hell but now, 3 and a half years later, I'm more confident than the most confident person in Confidencetown (to use my iconic sister-in-law's expression), when it comes to explaining the ins and outs of irregular verbs and pronunciation. I've developed such a passion for grammar and especially pronunciation that I even bore myself with it sometimes, not to mention my sons and husband.  So today I bring you a tale only marginally related to teaching (you'll be pleased to know) and mainly about Christmas and Italian men. Phwoar, you'll say. Well yes, I guess.

I have a wonderful little group of learners, I affectionately refer to them as "my pathology lot", whom I teach English once a week. They're all Italian doctors and work in the local pathology department. Really fascinating stuff and a charming bunch of people. No, really.

During today's lesson, and as it's our last before the festive season gets well and truly under way, we had a lively discussion about Christmas and what the UK traditions might be as opposed to the Italian ones. As I may as well be British, I of course feel that there's no better Christmas than an English one but I was very keen to learn how the Italians went about it.  From their explanation it seems that it's maybe a little bit more low-key than ours, not so much singing and drinking and not a lot of emphasis on obscene amounts of presents as in other parts of the world. As part of our discussion I asked them if they could give me 3 words that for them, define Christmas. All were unanimous in their nominations apart from the words "Christmas tree" (for the females) and "Nativity" (for the males). There was this very odd but very clear divide. The gals loved a tree, and the blokes were all for a Nativity scene. One of the male doctors patiently  proceeded to explain that in Italy, "men do the Nativity" and "women do the tree". He then very seriously continued and told me that baby Jesus is only placed in the crib on the 24th and that the 3 wise men don't appear till the 6th day of January (they are in fact gradually moved along - by the man - as the days go by, I kid you not).  I cannot imagine that every Italian male carries out this particular ritual with the same passion or dedication as my pupils tried to make me believe, but I was assured that generally the scenes are meticulously planned out, constructed, installed and lit and watered ("there are real fountains with real water and moss is gathered, and stars illuminate the sky and..." I listened enraptured...) not by the women but by the men. Back home I researched pictures of Nativity scenes from the UK and compared them to their Italian counterparts and must say that when it comes to creating a religious scene, the Italians obviously have an elevated ambition and passion in this department. Not for them the minimal, wooden purist set.
Having always placed Italian men in either an Al Pacino type category or a Giorgio Armani-ish one, I was a bit puzzled with this new aspect of the Italo male. What now? It's endearing for sure, but is it sexy? I've concluded that it is, because somewhere inside my head I really can picture Al on his knees, carefully arranging the hay in the second stable ready for the ox and donkey. Ok, that's where I'm gonna leave it for today.

good morning

Happy Friday everyone! Not much time to sit and blog at the moment but wanted to post this picture for the longest time as it's just so beautiful and simple. Nothing like the colours of a succulent plant. Right! Off out now. I finally got that hair appointment. *smiles in blissfull anticipation*

try this

Jeannette Lunde, a Norwegian graphic designer is creator of the Fryd + Design blog as well as Fryd + Shop. How can you not fall madly in love with her colours, creations and photographs? All beautifully presented with such exquisite sense of detail and style.

The above picture is taken from one of her older posts and I do hope she doesn't mind me using it to give you a taste of her lovely work.

this one's for me

I promise I'm not intentionally plugging you-know-what or anything but this little bit (excuse the pun!) is really too distracting for me. Not really much of a jewellery girl, apart from my extra large rings and pearl-string-thingy, I'm loving the look of this bracelet. Mind you I'd probably only wear it the once but it's still too gorgeous and it makes me dream, and that's why I put it here. Where it belongs.

happy thanksgiving

A very warm wish to all my wonderful US readers for Thanksgiving Day! There's quite a few of you over in the States and I always look forward to your visits on The Style Inside. Thank you for you support, it means the world to me.

A special mention and huge Thanksgiving hug goes out to 3 very faithful readers: one in Old Lyme, Connecticut, the other in Evanston, Illinois and then of course you over there in sunny Santa Cruz, California.

I would love to hear from all of you!

falling in love again

Whether it's a classic car or a classic bag, both make me go weak at the knees. And while my classic car collection leaves something to be desired, I'm well on my way with the bags. My Gucci Jackie O Logo Bit bag (unofficial name made up by me on the spot right here right now) is my absolute armcandy du jour. It's been tucked away in my wardrobe for at least a year without so much of a glance, albeit luxuriously wrapped in its brown silk dustbag, and has only resurfaced this week after my brain was kicked into "Gucci-mode" following some mention of the brand on Twitter. Wonder whether anyone quite appreciates this particular intrinsic value of social networking sites, bet Gucci doesn't.

The beauty of a true classic is that it's not a trend and you can therefore rest assured in the knowledge of a safe investment which is just going to keep giving and giving and giving in terms of satisfaction. Stylewise a classic will also usually keep up with the rest of them (let's face it, that's what we pay good money for), not 100% of the time but most of the time and when used cleverly, a classic item is never boring. I love it when I can use my Gucci unconventionally, with something unexpectedly un-classic. Juxtaposition of styles is a passion of mine and works best for me when a classic's involved. I could never wear head-to-toe classics though, I'd pass out from sheer boredom.

I also like to think of these special pieces as insurance cover when I need it most - like now. My absolute favourite jeans are fraying and ripping but I can't bring myself to "put them away". My hair is in dire need of highlighting and cutting yet my hairdresser won't confirm an appointment that's soon enough for me. So what do I do? I slip on my GJOLB-bag and it's a look!

Has anyone else tried it? Do let me know.