Holy mother of gherkins, what is that thing you ask. Remember that moment when you near sprained your eyeball trying to see the unicorn in a Magic Eye? You know where you were on that day. Just like 911. We all know when we first ever ‘got’ Magic Eye. Coincidentally, for me it was at a McDonalds birthday bash where the air was laden with sugar dust and this nine-year-old was one orange Fanta away from sprouting propellers and flying (into a coin operated toy).
creative direction SHINI PARK photography assitance SIMON SCHMIDT created for FARFETCH
There is a crisp, fresh quality to the air, and the fume of Pumpkin Spiced Latte is lingering within the tube network. Heck, London, I was only gone for about a week. To make matters worse, I’ve had to ditch my only pair of socks in a trashcan in SoHo because it was still balls-degrees in New York and they wouldn’t fit in my vintage Chanel bum-bag. Hence, sock-less in 5°c Heathrow. Trick or tootsies, anyone?
It’s the season of holidays and clumsily thumbing through the Hallmark category boxes at the pound-shop. Happy
created forSalvatore Ferragamoa Cube Collective production
…when it comes to Florence, it can tease amazement out of the most jaded traveller.
Ming is a firecracker. The Tuscan sun sets her off in a way that everyone on set wants either to be her or pinch her cheeks until marshmallows are dispensed. Cutest thing on mile-long legs. Case in point: the night we arrive, she disappears from the taxi queue and our crew of ten (plus respective luggage and then some) goes on missing-Victoria’s-Secret-model alert. Turns out she was buying cookies for everyone. See what I mean.
Is this a trick question? I’m being serious PLEASE HELP. It seems I’ve managed to change lanes while swapping out the Alanis Morissette CD and now there are new kids in town, going very fast, and I don’t know their names. It was either Gigi or, YOLO or something like that.
Fine, I have received enough verbal pamphlets from my more clued-in chums over samosas and beers to have vaguely mapped out the sort of rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock thing involving a family called the Kardashians, and Gigi is a supermodel/mastermind
I am a negligent father-figure when it comes to my skin on this blog. I can finally admit that. Ten months ago I promised to take you on an adventure, teach you how to make fire, and finally tell you how I KO’d Eczema. I know that I came to you, time and time again, saying Heeeey buddy, something came up. The truth is, I didn’t really bust Eczema, we’re still scratching at eachother.
The problem is, that I don’t have a skincare ritual to speak of. It’s hard when your canvas changes every other week – sometimes it’s suspiciously