It’s been one exciting week.
First Nick was getting his Clegg over with Dave, then we thought he might be taking it Brown but obviously that’s close to illegal. Finally it ended with a nice little love-in outside number 10, a well-timed ‘nuzzle’ by D.Cam to Sam Cam… and I’m done.
There’s always quite the furore regarding first- lady fashion and S.cam was looking particularly beautious as she made her debut at Hugh Grant’s place. All this suddenly set my heart soaring back to the 80’s, as it does daily (to the distress of the work dress code) and the great lady herself- M.Thatch. Love her or hate her, she has left an undeniable mark on Britain today. Perhaps it was the over-zealous T-love by my sixth-form history teacher, or the constant Thatchering from my parents, but for a time I formed a mild obsession with the woman. I even wrote an A-level project on the personal life of Lady – T; granted I got a terrible grade, but I think my vision was clouded by this fascination with what makes such a person.
With election fever still very much rolling, I started looking back through Google’s own photo collection and admiring Thatche’s fashion. Even her hair started to appeal to me, notably Kelly Osborne is currently sporting a suspiciously similar style. The woman had style, that’s for sure- she was like what gran would look like if she accidentally rolled into Vivienne Westwood on the way back from buying her bowls ticket and hiding from the Rag & Bone man.
I predict a Tory- riot; young toffs donning navy power suits, the Dalston massive requesting a Thatch for their thatch and general excitement surrounding what the new cabinet is wearing. We’ve been wearing brown for seasons, it’s time for something a bit brighter.
The sun recently reported that the bun was making a come-back, and there has been a huge amount of buzz around the Princess Anne for quite some time.
For those of us who have long anticipated the rise of the top – knot, this is not surprising, but as always we like to push things one step further. What I’m talking about is something we like to call the Fashion (passion) bun. The fashion bun resides far above the ballerina bun, lording it over practically all other hairstyles. From its elevated position it can see everything- it is literally all-knowing. There are many reasons why we love the fashion bun more than the lowly neck-riding bun which is largely attributed to horseriders and hairnets. These are some of my favourite:
-Its so ‘fashion’- come on, how many times have we seen models backstage sporting the FB and they look bloody great
-Its low maintenance and can be re-done as many times as you like- there is absolutely no need to look in the mirror when doing the FB.
-If it feels high enough, it can probably go higher- I love the shock value when you realise it is literally on your face.
-It is perfect for showcasing everything about your face- makeup, jewellery and collars
-Its sexy- theres nothing like a bit of nape
This is not rocket science, after all we are talking about a hairstyle rather than analysing War and Peace, but sometimes its fun to indulge in the ridiculous, on this occasion how high can your hair go before you physically can’t take it anymore.
Watch out, here come the New Romantics, but not like you’ve ever seen them before; sashaying through the late night club scene in floaty chiffon, with lashings of lace and undertones of depravity, swaying naturally to INXS and spilling Gin and Tonic daintily down to their dusty pumps.
Combining the decadence of the 80’s underground pop scene with a nod to Byron and Shelley, these girls like nothing better than partying to excess, trampling over any solatious scenesters who dare to interject.
In the world of the new romantic anything goes, smudged lipstick, smoky eyes and smoky faces. At 6 in the morning the look is still alive- the joy of dressing for debauchery- heroin chic for the corporate professional, who can stumble into work at 8.30AM, resolve your finance queries and then hit the town again for another night with endless possibilities.
This may seem like a hedonist’s fable, but look around you, most notably at the hands typing away at the keyboards in any office, they may still bear a stamp from the night before or a cloudy eye, dreaming of the devilish delights they experienced just hours ago.