Belle and rebel

So a couple of weeks ago i had an adventure.
I went up to London to see my friend Poli, whom i love and who is moving to Nottingham, along with my best friend Kelsea. This means i shall have to occasionally venture into the midlands and that makes me sad. Before she left, in a bid to postpone that inevitable journey, some quality London time was suggested, and so we met up.

If you read this blog with any regularity, or even if you just look at the pictures, you might notice i have a minor obsession with a certain fabulous french blogger named Garance Dore. If you read her blog you will no doubt know that for London fashion week GAP asked her to design a range of ridiculously limited edition t-shirts for them, in conjunction with an exhibition of her drawings and photographs and anything else she wanted to put up. If you've seen me in the past month you will have seen me wearing one of these shirts. I love it.


I went to the exhibition on the first day it opened, looked around with Poli, and bought one of the shirts. Its the first time i've been on the ball enough to snap up anything limited edition, and i was very pleased with myself. The only bad thing was that both Poli and i forgot our cameras.


I went back up 2 weeks later because Scott Schuman, The Sartorialist himself was in town to do a book signing, and i had to see him in the flesh. Since Garance is his girlfriend i thought she might be there too, and if truth be told i was more excited about meeting her, she has one of those blogs that when you read it you immediately feel that you two would be great friends.


So i'm strolling down Carnaby Street, after spending ages picking out my outfit, and i walk straight past Scott, flanked by his assistant Tracy and gorgeous Garance. He looks like a mobster from an old film, short and stocky in a perfectly tailored suit, with a girl on each arm. I immediately text everyone i know. I go in to Liberty, where the book signing is going to be later, and they have no books for sale yet, so i head back to the GAP, armed with my camera this time, and begin snapping away at the exhibit.


Suddenly i turn around and who should be there but Garance herself, looking radiant and approachable at the same time, a glass of champagne in one hand and killer heels on her feet. I mustered all my courage and said hello. We talked for a little while about blogs and fashion and what i study at uni and films and how Scott might be directing one (you heard that here first, he hasn't even said it on his blog yet!) and got on just as well as i assumed we would. She offered me some champagne and asked me to stay around for a drink while she did some interviews. Of course i accepted.

Next thing i know, the doors of the shop have been closed and there's a bouncer with a guestlist checking people's ID's. I have stumbled into the midst of a genuine London Fashion Week party, rubbing shoulders with he editor of french Elle and being complimented on my hair accessory by a writer for i-D. I turn around and there is Scott, the Sartorialist, right next to me, looking slightly shy and in deep conversation. I don't have the balls to say hello to him, he's far too cool, but i watch him for a while and even snap a dreadful picture, just to prove to you that he really was there.

I stick around, drinking Bellinis and pretending to be a reviewer for a magazine so cool and underground that none of these old world fashion moguls will have heard of it. I work for Cheekbone, delivered by ninjas every half hour because that's how fast our trends change. And i people watch. I wish i had better pictures, because the people were amazing. Unnaturally beautiful, so stylish you immediately feel like a bag lady, and yet so friendly. I want one of these parties every day!

The room was crowded, and at one point i got punched in the arm. I turned to see who it was and there was Scott, again, looking very apologetic and asking if i was ok. I mumbled something unintelligible and grinned, and he turned back to his conversation. Verbal communication with the Satrorialist. Now when i die i'll go to fashion heaven!

Then he ran off to go to the press opening on his signing, and i decided that i should probably eat something, so i left, saying goodbye and thank you to Garance, who gave me a hug and told me good luck with my films, and exited back into the real world. I ate something and then went to go to the book signing, and this is where disaster struck. I had decided to wear heels, and after being on my feet all day and walking all across London (because it's too pretty to take the tube) I was beginning to regret that decision. My feet were aching. I went into liberty and immediately faced the longest queue I'd ever seen. I took my shoes off and settled in for a long wait.




About 5 minutes later a security guard came up to us and asked if we had books already and that if we didn't we should go buy one somewhere else because they had sold out. It was 7:05 and the books had gone on sale at 7. I put my shoes on and headed up to Oxford street to buy one from borders. Borders had shut down. I dragged my aching feet down Regent street, but there were no bookshops. My numbed toes went all the way through Soho and were bleeping by the time i got to Shaftsbury avenue, only to find out that they had sold out too. There were no sartorialist books in London and the tip of my toe had dislocated.
I decided to give up. I had met Garance, been punched by Scott, gone to a fashion week party and drunk slightly too much champagne, and my feet were hurting so much a considered walking across London barefoot. I snuggled up in a chair in Starbucks and read vogue, and felt very fashionable indeed.

Moses supposes.....

I'm not sure if i've mentioned this before, but in a film lecture at the beginning of the year the lecture asked us to think about what scene we would choose if we were to be locked in a jail cell for the rest of our lives. This scene would be projected on the wall all day, every day. I have spent a disproportionate amount of time thinking about this, and I think this is my ultimate choice.



I love the little looks they give each other. Gene Kelly's eyes are so expressive. He's the first person i ever had a crush on, and i still love him just as much. He's just so lovely.

The Sartorialist comes to London!

And I'm going to be there!


London Book Signing

Monday Sept 21st
6 to 8 pm
Liberty of London
Great Marlborough St.
Downstairs in the Men's Department

Look how cute he and Garance were at the New York signing.





Would it be uncool of me to wear her shirt? I bought one and it's beautiful and really limited edition, but it might be like wearing a band t-shirt to that band's gig, you know?
I'm gonna be so stressed choosing an outfit, you have no idea!
Wish me luck.

Coraline

Neil Gaiman’s tale of a bored girl ignored by her parents who finds a door to a mirror world complete with “Other Mother” is one that definitely deserves its PG rating.

The other world appears ideal, with loving parents, good food, and visually stunning set pieces which had the whole audience ooh-ing and aah-ing like little kids, but even during this, there is a much darker undertone. The inhabitants of the other world have buttons for eyes, and though nothing outright threatening is said, there are subtle signs that all is not what it seems.

As a fan of sinister fairy tales, stop-motion animation and geeky glasses, Coraline was a film I’ve been looking forward to for some time. Directed by Henry Selick, of “Nightmare Before Christmas” fame, and animated in much the same way, there are bound to be parallels drawn between the two, but this film is darker and more finely tuned than the former. It doesn’t shy away from the horror which so many fairy tale adaptations avoid, and it is much the better for it.

The 3D aspect of the film was one I was sceptical about at first, but my doubts were banished before the film even started. Watching trailers in 3D, and even just the Universal logo, had me gasping. The reason I think it works so well is that they don’t overuse it, it isn’t a gimmick. Things don’t jump out at you, but rather the images have an added depth to them which makes them seem real even whilst being utterly fantastical. The pleasure of seeing a 3D jumping mouse circus has to be seen to be believed, and is almost worth the ticket price on its own.

Coraline is at once terrifying and beautiful, laugh out loud funny and hauntingly believable, and one of the best children’s films I’ve seen in years. This film will turn you into a kid again by reminding you just how magical the cinema can be.

500 Days of Summer

Before I start discussing this film, I must tell you that this is in no way an unbiased review. I begged to see this film before it came out. I have loved Joseph Gordon-Levitt since I was five and, also, I kind of want to be Zooey Daschanel. I went to this film expecting greatness. As a buffer to this optimism, I brought along my big brother, who thinks Zooey Daschanel is funny looking. Here’s what we both thought.

If you’ve seen the trailer then you know the premise, boy meets girl, boy falls in love, girl doesn’t. It’s that simple, only it’s not. (500) Days of Summer is a breath of fresh air in a world over-run with run of the mill romantic comedies. There is no gross out humour, no boobs, and no overweight man children. What is there is a refreshingly real, intimate and surprisingly innocent film about the courage it takes to fall in love. And that’s not to say that it isn’t funny, it is, it’s hilarious, but the humour comes from a relatable, identifiable place rather than a squirrel attack in the woods or someone stepping in dog poo.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt (Mysterious Skin) plays Tom, a boy who still believes in the notion of all or nothing, lightning-strikes-once love. He’s like John Cusack in Say Anything for the iPod generation. The writers, Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber, say the film is semi-autobiographical, that they are representing themselves through Tom. Although undoubtedly biased, this could be why he is probably one of the most ideal men ever written. I warn you ladies, you will fall in love with him, but you shouldn’t, because he’s mine.

Zooey Daschanel (Yes Man) plays Summer, the beautiful, super cool and quirky girl of Tom’s dreams. You can see why he loves her, she’s easy to love, but there’s also a darkness there which is revealed as the film goes on. She’s not as perfect as she seems at first, which is the problem with love at first sight, by the time you realize, it’s already too late.

The story is told in a fragmented, non-linear structure, winding back and forth through Tom and Summer’s on-again, off-again romance, or, as the writers call it, “a romantic comedy meets Memento.” You look through memories as Tom remembers them, sometimes seeing the same moment more than once, each time with an entirely different meaning. It doesn’t pretend to be an objective point of view, it is Tom’s memory, reflecting his experience of love. And yet, unlike so many male protagonist romantic comedies of late, the women are not seen as nagging, bitchy kill-joys who want to settle down and stop the men from having fun. These men love women, possibly more than they deserve to be loved.

Credit should be given to first time feature director Marc Webb, whose direction is sure and precise, whilst seamlessly allowing for split screens, dance sequences, omniscient narrators and a cartoon bird. He knows he’s got something special and isn’t afraid to let it loose. These stylized elements, rather than detracting from the realism, somehow accurately convey just what it feels like to be in love. It’s not ironic, it’s honest. Under the humour and whimsy of (500) Days of Summer, there’s a fundamental truth at play: Yes, love can be cruel, harsh and difficult but it’s also, by far, the best thing life has to offer.

Aliens in the Attic

Review i wrote for pure movies last month, in case you're curious.

A talented and mostly unknown young cast and equally talented if somewhat underused group of comedians elevate what could easily have been a generic children’s adventure into something for the whole family to enjoy.
Set around a family's 4th of July weekend getaway in Michigan, Aliens in the Attic is an adventure comedy where the children have to fight off an alien invasion whilst keeping their parents clueless as to what's really going on. The family and their cousins rent a house in the middle of nowhere, idyllic for the parents and deathly boring for the children, in order to achieve some good old fashioned togetherness. Little touches such as the twin cousins Art and Lee (Henry and Regan Young) not even looking up from their Nintendo DS when they realize they have arrived add a touch of humorous realism to what is essentially an overused plot device, and immediately endear the characters to the audience.
These are not the sugary brats of so many live action kids’ films. Even the little sister (Ashley Boettcher) doesn’t fall into the overly cute trap, instead utilizing a comic timing unusual in someone so young. The two older boys, especially Tom (relative newcomer Carter Jenkins), are both charming, but the attempt to add some teenage angst to the character, Tom is too smart and is failing school on purpose, prompting an argument with his father ending with the words “I don’t want to be like you, I want to be cool,” strikes a false and slightly unnecessary note. It does allow for a “maths is cool” revelation towards the end of the film, and a supposedly heart warming reconciliation with his father (Kevin Nealon) but both feel slightly like overkill, there are enough subtle allusions to the strain on their relationship without this overt description of it.
The idea of having to keep the parents out of the drama as much as possible is a clever one, with much capacity for humour. The Aliens have a mind control device which only works on adults, so for the safety of their parents and the rest of the world, the children have to keep them in the dark. The two adults who get in the way and are consequently turned into mind controlled zombies are older sister Bethany (Ashley Tisdale)’s uber-annoying boyfriend Ricky (Robert Hoffman, who plays the role of a complete jerk so well that it almost goes past funny and back to horrifically annoying, more than once I wanted to give him a slap, just in case) and sweet old Nana Rose (comedy veteran Doris Roberts). The children get control of the remotes for each of these characters and play them like the best computer game ever invented. Some very comic moments, such as having Ricky slap himself repeatedly in the face or run full pelt into his ridiculous car proved a hit with the audience, both young and old alike. The climax of this device is a full in Matrix style fight between Nana and Ricky, the action dictated by the games constantly played by the twins. This is Tekken with geriatrics.
The let down of the whole thing is the aliens. Numbering only four in total, all the characters are so obvious, and their individual roles so small that the vocal talents of J.K. Simmons and Thomas Hayden Church are almost entirely wasted. Apart from some moments obviously designed to entertain the adults, including a sly visual reference to Alien, there is nothing to grab the attention, they are simply not scary enough. If children’s films through the ages have taught us anything, it’s that a bit of danger goes a long way, kids like to be scared. The sooner filmmakers realize this, the easier their jobs will be.
A film with good comedic potential and a cast to remember and look out for, this film would be greatly improved by the inclusion of an actual threat, thus elevating it from the generic kid’s adventure stuff to something worth watching again.

Maybe i should move to Sweden

Because according to Lookbook, every man there looks and dresses like this.






I live in Brighton, men here are supposed to dress well. What's going wrong?!

Wise words from an adorable man

Joey Comeau always has something cool to say to cheer me up. Here's a little bit of wisdom to which i strive to adhere.

Man, I was thinking about unrequited love. I figure it's best to just walk that shit off. Find someone else to be excited about. It's like if you love ice cream but your ice cream man friend won't give you any. Maybe he's got a good reason. It cuts into profits. Who knows? But he likes you as a friend and wants to hang out anyway. It just drives you crazy to hang out with that dude, even if he's being reasonable from his point of view. So don't hang out with him. What, you ONLY like ice cream? It's ice cream or nothing? Don't be an asshole. Learn to love donuts.

Something to think about, even if you do prefer ice cream to donuts.

"Shall we see if that booth still works?"

Before Sunrise is in my top 10 films of all time, i absolutely love it and it makes me go all gooey every time i watch it. There is one particular scene which makes me giggle like a gurgling toddler (anyone who knows me knows that this is my very contented laugh reserved for moments of supreme contentedness). This scene is here, for your enjoyment, and to make you gurgle too.
No context is really needed, and if you haven't seen the film then go out and watch it right now. Basically they met on a train and spend the evening walking around Vienna. This scene takes place about a third of the way through the film, when they are still getting to know each other.



If i can direct a scene as perfect as this one, i'll be a happy girl.
Hope that made your day a little brighter.

"I don't have a bandit hat...

So i modified this tube sock."

If there's a more Wes Anderson/Jason Schwartzman quote out there, well, it'd probably make me laugh just as hard as that one did.
Basically, this film is one of the reasons i'm glad i'm alive right now.



Opinions? Too Anderson, not enough Dahl? Or quirky and cool and a mixture of both genius minds? I know what i think, what about you?