Memoirs of an English (and French) adventure...and then I shopped

Ted Baker in Paris

Now that the great shopping drought of the holiday abroad was broken (ah the memories of the Selfridges shoe galleries) I was on a roll.  We were one day away from spending five days in the most beautiful and stylishcity in the world so I was damned if I was travelling 40 meters under the English channel seabed looking like a tourist.  I had a cunning plan that involved a carefully constructed list and whole lot of restraint.  Unfamiliar territory for me really when I’ve got a wad of cash and credit card burning a hole in my back pocket.  Anyway, prior to the big adventure and post pre-holiday hissy-fit over what I was going to buy (read more here), I did a reccie of the smallest-wardrobe-in-the- world and taking into consideration the sorry, dated and stretched state of numerous occupants, together with my current lifestyle needs – skinny jeans and pair of runners,  I came up with the following list:

• One, if not two pairs of jeans in a straight and/or bootleg cut
• A good winter coat with a decidedly UK flavour
• A new trench in a colour other than grey
• A cashmere cardigan in ahem...neutral
• A pair of navy blue converse runners;
• Several pairs of shoes; and
• A hand full of new tops

Now, it would have been completely irresponsible of me to purchase everything at once – refer to the pre-holiday hissy-fit for further information, so I decided to break it down into absolute French necessities and made a bee line for the Ted Baker jacket from my local John Lewis store that I’d been obsessing over for the past six days.   As I've already blogged about it, you can read about it here. 

My funky new runners...not that I run.

Next stop was the converse sneakers.   I’d been considering procuring myself a pair of converse sneakers for some time now and was absolutely delighted to find they were a fraction of the price – I paid just $50 for them even with the exchange rate.  As I’m rather partial to dark denim skinny jeans, then navy converse sneakers were my funky trainer of choice.  I have no doubt that there are many stylists out there in the fashion jungle who will tell you that those of us with curves probably shouldn’t walk around in a pair of skinny jeans as they have the potential to make us look like Colonel Sanders southern fried chicken legs.  I, on the other hand believe in making (some) current trends work regardless of body shape (thank you Gok) and always wear mine dark with extra length so the bunching around the ankle works to lengthen the leg and therefore make those problem areas magically disappear.  Eat your heart out Harry Potter.  Has anyone seen Hermoine’s new hair style  by the way.  She looks amazing.  Anyway, by adding a sneaker in a similar shade I’m simply adding to the overall length of the leg making them appear ten foot long rather than the obligatory three!  Who would have thought after 11 years, Dr Love not only noticed my shoes, but commented on them too.  Well done Dr Love.  

My jeans were Ralph Lauren, and although I didn’t set out to purchase Ralph Lauren no matter how many times I had dreamed about it in the past, once I tried them on – four days earlier, there was simply no going back!  They had spoiled me for choice.  In fairness to myself, I did attempt to find a suitable alternative for a much lower price – they were £90 pounds (eep) but nothing compared to cut or colour.  It was as though they were made for me...the perfect denim dud with the much sought after but never previously experienced suitably straight leg.  The dark denim (the flash on the camera makes them look lighter than they really are) and wisping around the zip and upper thigh is just perfect for girlie girls carrying their curves on their lower half.  It breaks up the colour, which in block format could have the potential to make us bigger than we really are (see here for my past post on finding the perfect pair of jeans) and really, who wants that?

Girl about Paris

The last purchase for the day was a purple trench from Hobbs, another of my new favourite obsessions.  I mentioned once before that Hobbs was a good comparison to Veronika Maine only with more purple and there is no doubt that it was the colour of the season.  Lucky for me it is also smack bang in the middle of my colour wheel!  Never be frightened to buy multiple items in the same colour or shade boys and girls if that same colour or shade makes your skin glow like the glossy cover of the latest Vogue and your eyes pop like diamonds.  And no, black does not count!.  Buying multiple pieces in the same shade shows that you know exactly what to do to make yourself look smashing and colour coordinating your wardrobe just got a whole lot easier.  Take my favourite holiday outfit for example – Ralph Lauren jeans, converse sneakers, teal blue Stella top with empire waist/tie and blue cardi...it looks fabulous with the Ted for a sophisticated but slightly edgy glam look, as well as the Hobbs for those days when I just want to be classic and quiet girl around town...Paris town. Au Revoir

Memoirs of an English (and French) adventure...the Royal Borough of Windsor

St Georges Chapel.  Resting place of many known Monachs
and English nobility including Henry VIII and his BFF Charles
Brandon.  The little people liked it too...so many statues

Dr Love had picked up something nasty on the flight abroad and barely made it through the Oxford adventure. So the following morning, my cousins B and G, myself and the little people left him on the couch and set off for a fabulous girls’ day out at the Royal Borough of Winsor. Ah Windsor. A little town so entrenched in British royal history –I am almost obsessive when it comes to the British, that it almost made up for the fact that despite being in the UK for three whole days, I had yet to shop! So unlike me I know but there was so much to see and so many old buildings and castles to do that I was strangely content to bide both my time and my ahem...budget! Visiting Windsor and particular Windsor castle for the second time in seven years was just shy of receiving a Prada handbag at Christmas on the Richter scale of excitement. Not only was I walking the very same stones that were underfoot kings and queens a hundred times over and greeting the tombs of the known and not so known monarchs and their favourite nobility – hello Charles Brandon, I feel I know you so well - but there was a palace shop on almost every corner! And I love a palace shop nearly as much as I love a shoe shop! Go figure that one out!


The stroll up the hill and onto the Castle itself had us all breathless with the majesty of the imposing grey stones that towered and curved above and around us. If I was hoping for a leisurely stroll through the embellished and stately apartments that escorted us back to a time when heads rolled as often the fashions of the season, I was mistaken. The youngest of the little people, baby cub, had relinquished her pram at the cloak room upon admission and although was happy to be free from its restraints did not like being told where she could and could not run and oh wow, didn’t that gold gilded sideboard and big tall bed look inviting to an excitable dare devil! So, with screaming babe in arms it was a quick meander through the hallowed halls and a fleeting glance at Queen Mary’s dolls house and the centuries old portraits of monarchs for whom stories are told and television shows are made until we reached the end and could divulge ourselves of her not so pleasant nappy!


From the castle, we strolled through the pretty streets nearby searching for the Crooked House of Windsor; our chosen venue for an afternoon tea delight. Imagine our excitement when we found the tiny 16th century building right alongside the columned facade of the guildhall, the very place Charles and Camilla tied the royal knot five year before.  Believe it or not the Crooked House really was crooked and once inside rather discerning to those of us climbing the narrow stair case to the upper level in order to partake in a spot of tea.

We had some spare time before our train arrived in the afternoon so we popped into a few of the shops that lined the station concourse; an exciting experience on its own. It was here that I first discovered Hobbs, a sophisticated high street retail heaven that offered classic cuts and elegant silhouettes for the chic fashionista in all of us. When I considered the closest Australian alternative, the best I could do in comparison was Veronika Maine, only more refined and colourful with a cascade of rich teals, blues, greens, reds and purples. It was fair to say that I was in colour wheel heaven and would return to Hobbs many times over the coming weeks.