The Big Four

I don't know whether it's the grey clouds and perpetual rain outside, or the fact that my house is simply freezing, but I have started to revisit February's A/W 2011 collections to decide on which looks to recreate next season. The vibrant colour blocking, straw hats and breezy white linen dresses that are currently ubiquitous in my wardrobe are going to be exchanged soon for a new palette, changing silhouettes and the emulation of different eras. And, not to be forgotten, the A/W collections usually include lust-worthy fabrics such as wool, cashmere, silk, leather and fur (faux, please), that just feel so much more sumptuous and glamorous than plain cotton/linen summer dresses. Oh how I love the anticipation of a coming season, when everything seems new, fresh and inspiring, and the shops are not saturated to boredom point with the season's main trends.

First up: Red Red Red!

The colour that will be everywhere next season is a deep cerise, seen on everything from coats (Alberta Ferretti) to cocktail dresses (Lanvin, of course). As this happens to be my favourite colour, the one that suits my dark hair/pale skin complexion the best, the colour of the poppies on the desk in front of me and the colour of my favourite winter coat, I couldn't be happier. Red is the very opposite to those virginal white dresses we've been wearing all summer; it's synonymous with love, passion, anger, lust and wrath... nothing better to liven up these dreary July days.

(Top Row: Lanvin. Bottom Row: Betty Jackson, Rodarte)

And as for the other colours? Think jewels, darling. Think Sapphires, Emeralds and Jacinths, as well as Garnets, Opals and Onyxes. Use Lanvin's A/W 2011 show as your starting point (actually, this should always happen), and grab your cocktail dress, work those supersize jewels and storm your colourful way through Autumn's puddles.

(Marc by Marc Jacobs, Preen. Aren't these colours just divine?)

Secondly: Back to the Sixties, baby!

As dedicated followers of fashion that I assume you, dear reader, are, in the past few months you will have worn palazzo pants, floppy hats, wedges, flared jumpsuits and other 70's paraphernalia to death. Having indulged in the outre luxury of this era- the silky fabrics, the expressive silhouette and the bohemian excess of all those palazzo pants and floppy hats- next season is set to become a whole lot cooler. (Pun definitely intended.) Yes, the Mods are back with a vengeance. Shifts will be shorter, shoes will be more mannish (opt for a chunky brogue or Chelsea boot for the new season's edge now) and eye-liner will definitely be heavier.

About a week ago in Italy- more of that to come!- I picked up the August edition of Italian Vogue that features one of the best shoots I've ever seen... I love, love, love it! Sara Maino really evokes the defiant spirit of the Mods, with Jean Shrimpton hair, heavily kholed eyes and boys decked out in Fred Perry; all photographed on what looks like Brighton beach. Shot in black and white, the 60s silhouettes of shift dresses, pea coats, mannish tailoring and skinny legs are perfectly balanced with the edge of the modern clothes; this is Mary Quant redone by Christopher Bailey.

Next up: Mixin' in up!

The coming season is all about the details, the textures, the fabrics. Fur collars need to be mixed with tweed, sequins with leather. And then the fur with the leather and the sequins with the tweed. Big knits, embroidered capes and belted waistcoats should be thrown together with aplomb, hopefully (maybe not those last three examples) creating that je ne sais quoi that makes the perfect outfit. This trend is about the layering of fabrics- bouclé wool, tweed, fur, suede, leather- clashing prints, like at Jonathan Saunders, and mixing up your outfit to make it that much more interesting.

A simple take on the trend is to take a leather (panelled, if you're nervous) pencil skirt or pair of shorts and pairing it with a chunky, oversized knit. Alternatively you can pair a slinky sequinned dress with a large parka for a nod to the 90's grunge look, or a some cropped tweed trousers with a belted fur waistcoat. Be brave!

(Tory Burch and Balmain)

And lastly: New season, new skirts.

Unless you're working the 60's shift this coming season, hemlines for everything else are on the way down. Despite being an 18 year old girl who should be welded to her mini, I'm in love with this trend! At the moment my burgundy pleated midi never really leaves my side; whenever it does my maxi dresses are the pieces that usually take its place. The below-the-knee pencil skirt is my own personal challenge, however; usually dowdy or the haunt of middle aged office workers, they can be seen next season in every colour, print and fabric under the sun. With a chunky knit on the top-half (you may have guessed at this point that I'm a little obsessed with big knits...) and Spats or other mannish brogues on your feet, I'm envisioning them as very cool indeed- with not a water cooler in sight.

(My pick of the best from Asos.com: the monochrome houndstooth check is just a little sixties, no? And tartan was everywhere in the shows, from Chanel to Daks.)

Catwalk images from www.elleuk.com

Italian Vogue images from www.vogue.it

Asos images from www.asos.com

My newest obsession...

Diane Von Furstenburg for H. Stern jewellery. Just look at it. Gold, diamonds and coloured gemstones are brought together in charming love knots, sweet charm bracelets, and delicate pendants, to make a collection that is infinitely covetable. The collection, now in its sixth season, is wrought as large, statement pieces that embody DVF's mantra: of innate womanly elegance with a steely, independent core lying underneath. These are pieces that you'd buy for yourself, because you love them, because you need them, and because you don't need a man to buy them for you. Perfect for us independent women*.

(Perhaps my favourite piece from the collection- although it's so hard to choose. I just love the thought of this dangling elegantly on my wrist, a delicate statement that would be delicious paired with either a cocktail dress or one of those silk Equipment shirts that I'm also lusting over. In classic cream or dark red, please.)

* If we can afford them, which, in my case, would be a no. Drat.

All images from www.hstern.net

Today's Outfit...

(A Topshop skirt, a stack of bangles and vintage top, belt and headscarf. Plus bare feet to run barefoot through the summer grass)

A Little Grace, A Little Arizona, and A Lot of Vogue!

(The fur collars, cashmere coats and muted autumnal colours of the shoot were lifted from the Dior A/W '11 show, image from www.stylebrity.co.uk)

In my 18 years of (limited) experience, I have come to realise that opportunities are similar to those forever- clichéd buses: you have to wait ages for one, but then they all come along at once. Despite the fact that I'm a 'get out and grab 'em' kind of girl when it comes to opportunities- I am a strong believer in Thomas Jefferson's observation that "I find that the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have"- this week's developments definitely show that, sometimes, all the opportunities have come at once. Maybe after a run of unfortunate developments, in this case terrible exams and unsuccessful job interviews, luck, kismet , karma- whatever you like to call it- is finally on my side.

Picture the scene: a bland Thursday night at home. I've spent the best part of the afternoon and evening in my best non- fashion clothes (I won't describe them; they're too awful) and have occupied myself with scrubbing my skirting boards and shifting furniture, in an attempt to style my room along the lines of http://cupcakesandcashmere.com/home-improvement/, the blog that I'm currently obsessed with.

The phone rings. It's Johnny, the husband of the woman I do work experience with (more about that to come!), who works as a location manager. He's had a last minute request from American Vogue to do a 'Warhorse' inspired shoot on the moors, directed and styled by the one and only Grace Coddington. Good enough to remember that I'm an aspiring fashion journalist, he asks me if I'd like to go along. My reaction? It involved shortened breath, a choking action and barely suppressed screams of excitement. Okay, so my screams weren't suppressed for long; as soon as I had hung up I sprinted around the house, literally jumping up and down with excitement. I was going to a Vogue shoot. VOGUE. With Grace Coddington and her assistants and wardrobe and undoubtedly famous fashion photographer; all my luck had suddenly and unexpectedly come in one giant Vogue windfall, and I don't think I've ever been happier.

(The one and only Grace Coddington, image from gawker.com)

So the first question that immediately sprang to mind was, of course, what on earth do I wear to a Vogue shoot? With Grace Coddington, of all people! She's just one step down from the Empress of Fashion, Anna Wintour! I immediately discounted my entire wardrobe; none of it was good enough, none of it would do. Had I not thought and planned for this possibility my entire life? Why had I not planned, bought, washed and ironed my perfect outfit for my first Vogue shoot? With these questions racing around my head, I contemplated the obvious criteria that my outfit would have to cater for.

1) It was a stormy night, and looked to be just as wet the next day. The shoot was going to be somewhere on the moor, meaning that Wellies and something at least slightly waterproof would have to be brought into the equation.

2) On the other side of the coin, there was the possibility that the weather might become scorchingly hot later in the day, meaning that trousers and a waterproof would be exceptionally uncomfortable, as well as looking rather silly.

3) This was a Vogue shoot, for goodness sake. With Grace Coddington. I had to be dressed to impress, to stand out from the crowd. In my imagination (usually wild, it has to be said) I saw her see me and my wonderfully chic, stylish outfit (as yet not found) and say 'Who is that girl? She is so put- together, so sartorially correct for a day on the rainy/boiling moors, I must employ her immediately!'

In the end I rejected the maxi and midi skirts, the jeans (Voguettes surely don't wear jeans), the chinos and the colour- blocked dress, and settled on my new Topshop high- waisted shorts, paired neatly with a Breton top, under which the polka- dot collar and cuffs of a shirt peeked through. I accesorized with a simple brown leather belt, brogues and a pink silk headscarf, with my Wellies and trench coat to be kept in Johnny's car for rainy emergencies. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't the best outfit; when I got to the shoot everyone was indeed wearing jeans, cashmere knits, and giant, grungy parkas or leather jackets. Ah well, at least I didn't go for that dress.

The day of the shoot dawned with a weak sun trying to force his way through the clouds. I can't say I had the best night's sleep, as I was literally trembling with excitement and adrenaline for the coming day. Grace Coddington's fiery red hair lit up the tumble-down, definitely unglamorous, outbuildings of the old farmhouse, where the first location was, I had my first taste of life in a fashion magazine. They were shooting Arizona Muse (isn't that the most incredible name for a model?) in exquisitely cut and tailored Dior; in the wardrobe department there were also sublime McQueen dressses and fetish harnesses, a Dior cape in green wool, Louis Vuitton fetish heels, numerous Rick Owens leather jackets, divine Ann Demeulemeester deconstructed blazers, Marc Jacobs polka- dot pencil skirts.... I was in fashion nirvana, drooling over all of the clothes.

(The Dior cape)

(The McQueen fetish harness)

(The McQueen dress, from fashionblogmanc.wordpress.com)

(Mmm Rick Owens' leathers)

Sadly, I didn't get to see Grace Coddington scattering her fashion magic over the clothes, making them into heavenly outfits. The shoot was mostly a closed set, meaning that nosy, jobless bystanders- such as myself- were kept well out of the way. Instead, I spent most of my time helping out the location manager with such things as finding a leaf blower to beg, borrow or steal, as Grace requested a wind machine, pestering the stylist's assistant with numerous questions about how she got her job, and hanging out with a certain Jeremy Irvine. The star of Steven Spielberg's adaptation of Michael Morpurgo's classic 'Warhorse' is resolutely normal, having just been plucked out of the stage school black hole to become The Next Big Thing, and is in fact simply lovely. He and I also proved extremely bad on a Scrabble team together- apparently he is dyslexic, but really, with this blog and an upcoming degree in English, I have no excuse! Also just lovely is Arizona Muse, who I was infinitely star struck by, having followed her career develop to new highs for many months now. She is gorgeous. The simple epitome of beautiful: razor sharp cheekbones, a high brow, bow shaped lips and the clearest of eyes. When she introduced herself to me I believe I forgot my own name for quite a minute. We discussed things such as her son, the benefits of country living vs. living in the city and the joys of Paris. Arizona, as well as the rest of the American Vogue team, had come directly from the last of the Paris Couture Shows; this knowledge, that they had been at the couture shows- or in Arizona's case, in them- that I had so greedily consumed on Vogue.tv just a few days earlier, made me quite giddy with excitement.

So my day with Vogue continued, as I ran errands, chatted with Jeremy and asked absolutely everyone how they got their jobs. Unfortunately the introduction with Grace never emerged; she had her hands full with her day job styling one of the world's top models, and the handsome, up and coming young film star. But this despite this, the very fact that I was in the same room (marquee, courtyard, field, whatever) as Grace Coddington, watching her work, aged 18, has to be the greatest opportunity of my life. I was surrounded by the clothes, shoes and accessories that I drool over daily, had a chat with Arizona Muse, spent the afternoon with Jeremy Irvine and experienced the world that I love and dearly hope to be part of in a few years; all in all, the luckiest day of my life.

(The lovely Jeremy Irvine, image from screencrave.com)

(The infeasibly gorgeous Arizona, image from coolspotters.com)

Actually, scrap that. I've just been to my first Vogue shoot. I am part of that world!

(Unless stated, all images are from www.elleuk.com)