Life Is Too Short For Sales Shopping

*emerges from Christmas fug of chocolate, Amaretto and an awful lot of salmon*

To me, the festive period is one for family, friends, fun and food - I become something of a technophobe between Christmas Eve and New Year, hence the lack of posts. What I also have a problem with is the audacity and greed of retailers - I was extremely irritated that the second message that popped up on my phone on Christmas Day was not from my best friend, but from ASOS, letting me know I had 10% extra off in their sale.

Seriously? I know the emails are automatically generated but come on. I love a new dress as much as the next girl but I think it's really sad that people are being encouraged to shop on Christmas Day.

I spent a lot of time before Christmas getting 'just one more' present for someone or other, and my local town was heaving with people laden with bags. A trip to Westfield a few weeks ago was also a frightening experience - it's so vast, full of people buying things, being sold things that maybe, in all honesty, we don't really need. I've had a consumerism revolution over the last month - in fact, all that has happened to me in 2010 has made me realise what is really precious to me, and that no, I can't buy happiness in Beyond Retro.

So if Christmas shopping was bad enough, you can imagine my horror when witnessing the Topshop sale being ripped to shreds on Christmas Eve (think piranhas, and you get the picture). I'm not saying I'm immune to ever buying anything ever again, I've just twigged that as a nation we will buy anything that is has a sale sticker on it. We even have our own version of very British etiquette when it comes to rummaging - none of the pushing and shoving you see in America, instead two girls glare at each other when both rifling through a rack of clothes, having a silent standoff to see who will step back and allow the other to continue down the rail. We've all been there. Both reaching for the same item, before an engaging in an embarrassed hand shuffle, when the more assertive woman gives the other a clenched smile while gripping the desired item and swanning off to join a massive queue for the changing rooms.

It's quite scary.

So sorry, DFS, Harveys, Next, Arcadia and ASOS - I don't shop over Christmas, and I hate seeing people piling up outside stores on Boxing Day. The 26th of December is meant to be for recovering from the day before, watching more rubbish telly, reading your new book and going on the traditional Boxing Day walk. Which for my family, looked a little bit like this:

Petworth Park in the snow. So beautiful, so very cold.

I've never seen a properly frozen lake before. Dad and I kept daring each other to put one foot on it. So stupid.

My Mum and Dad, frolicking in the snow (just kidding, that would be disgusting)


The evening's entertainment mainly comprised playing board games and doing this to my boyfriend's cat. He loved it.

When we did venture anywhere near some shops, it was to my spiritual home of Brighton, which is my favourite place to get inspired and window shop. There is so much to look at there, so even if we don't buy anything, the boyfriend and I still feel like we have had an interesting day out.

I'm sure my Nan has the bottom picture up in her house somewhere, I may need to steal it.

Vintage shoes, anyone?

Every house needs a full size fairy light tree, obviously.

Just to extend Christmas for one more day, and to complete any home, a white chocolate stag. Yum.

2010 has been a weird, confusing, tumultuous year, and an awful lot has happened to me. Not to get all wistful and contemplative, but New Years' Eve always makes me think, and I have realised what I have learnt from this year. I have a whole new set of priorities for 2011, and they centre around my brilliant boy, my wonderful family, and amazing friends. Happiness is key, and it's never, ever on special offer.

Thank you for reading, see you on the other side.

GL

Guest Post Alert: Vintage Loveliness and Forgotten Traditions

Today on Fashion Editor at Large I extol the virtues of this brilliant book, all about beautiful, whimsical or cultural things that the author, Lesley M.M. Blume (who obviously appreciates middle names) thinks should be resurrected by modern society. It kept me enthralled during a four hour train journey, and is the only one you need to keep you entertained over Christmas.

Have a read about it here.

I'm off home for Christmas now, so Glitterbird will be relocating to Sussex for the holidays. I have no doubt that there will be more Christmas posts than you will be able to bear, so consider yourself warned.

GL

Christmas Parties: What Would Joanie Do?

Betty, Joanie and Peggy: Christmas parties are a walk in the park when you are this classy.

Living where I do in curry-central, it's hard to escape the melee of MESSY Christmas parties, with groups of drunk people spilling onto Brick Lane, slurring their words and looking like an STI waiting to happen. Being totally sober on my walk home from work (fashion isn't all about schmoozing and champers y'know, just sometimes) it is funny to listen in to snatches of cringeworthy conversations and check out the godawful excuses for 'party outfits'.

If I see one more corn-beef, fake tanned thigh peeking out from a too short satin party dress, under a crappy black coat and above a pair of plastic shoes WITH THE LABEL STILL ON....sorry. It's just bad clothes really upset me. Labels left on the bottom of shoes is my official pet peeve. Grrrrrr.

Just to clarify: I am not claiming to be a world authority on 'how to dress'. I am very anti prescribed fashion i.e. what the must have item is, or the hot look of the party season. Shudder. I just want people to start dressing nicely again. With clothes that flatter their shape, and make everybody look wonderful. Not whatever was on special at Primarni.

I adore dressing up at Christmas. Obviously, some of my festive time is spent in a ridic Crimbo jumper that features a snowman smoking a pipe (awesome) but the rest of the time I like to make maximum effort. Glitter, velvet, lace, OTT: these are my key words for my holiday outfits. Ideally I like it if one dress combines all four things. Maybe with a bit of holly in the hair for added elf-ness.

But if I actually had a sophis' work do to go to (a la the one in Mad Men) I would make sure to dress up proper, like. Back in the 50s and 60s, a lady would own a few cocktail dresses that she would bring out for the party season, before carefully storing them for the following year. Making frocks from Vogue patterns was the norm, and often meant that women could afford more stylish dresses than they could ever afford to buy off the peg. My own Nan was tasked with sewing hundreds of sequins onto her Mum's evening dresses (where is that dress now, that's what I'd like to know!)

Obviously, vintage is now my label of choice for any sort of occasionwear, but sometimes, it's difficult to find something that doesn't need dry cleaning or tailoring, two days before your Christmas 'do. Step up, vintage reproduction labels.

There are a variety of brands who have been making incredible vintage 'inspired' pieces for a long time now, and I love to drool over their websites. Much more exciting than a look round the clone-a-thon that is our High Street.

Time to crack open my address book and share my favourite vintage-esque sites:

Tara Starlet. Simple, Forties-inspired garms that are well made with an air of authenticity. Also now stocked downstairs in Topshop Oxford Circus, which is handy.


Collectif. Retro rockabilly style with a little more attitude. The original and best leopard print cardis.


Betty Page Clothing. Inspired by the lady herself, this American company produce dresses that cling to every curve. For sailorettes, pin up girls and Joan Harris fans everywhere.

Vivien of Holloway. For the best bombshell look in town, nobody does it better than Vivien. I have come very close to ordering one of the delicious sarong dresses so many times, but can never make up my mind over my fabric choice. These roses are spot on Glitterbird style, however. I enjoy a good bloom.

There are a few other brands I adore, but a girl has to keep some of her fashion secrets close to her chest.

Something that is far, far away from being secret, however, is the fact that everybody's favourite online shop, ASOS.com, will be launching ASOS Salon next year, which is their own attempt at bonafide vintage inspired pieces. I did a little skip of excitement at the press day when I saw the attention to detail, pastel-soft colours and styles taken from different decades in the debut collection.


Pale blush pinks, buttercup yellow, creams...HELLO.

I'd like to flutter about in those translucent petals.

Decadent brocade fit for any wife of Don Draper.

Adorable daisies make me want to shimmy about. I probably shouldn't, it would ruin any attempt at 60's cool provided by this dress.

The piece de resistance. Louis Vuitton who? This bad boy had so many petticoats I just wanted to jump inside it's fluffy, pouffy goodness. The width of the skirt would not aid my clumsiness levels (goodbye, low-placed glass ornaments) but with a bodice that hot, who cares if I smash a few glasses?

Unfortunately ASOS Salon will not be out until next year, but what with all the other amazing retro brands around, we will all have no excuse this time next Christmas. Slummy dressers of the world beware: ladylike is back, biatches.

GL

From Me to You

Am I the only person who still sends Christmas cards? (contrary to whatever MoonPig might sing at you, e-cards DO NOT count.)

I also have a paper advent calendar, which is unsurprisingly covered in glitter - there's a shocker - and is not sponsored by Disney/The Simpsons/Hello Kitty. I don't actually believe in chocolate advent calendars, it's kind of wrong eating sweets first thing in the morning (which is obviously the time you spring out of bed to open today's window. Just me? Oh.)

10 days to go, Crimbo fans. In honour of that occasion, here's a little treat, courtesy of Rob Ryan, the Guardian, and me.


Love always

Gbird x

Image copyright Rob Ryan, paper cutting artist extraordinaire.

Just Call Me 'Nostalgic Spice'

Nostalgia moment alert! I was enjoying Chris Moyle's 'Golden Hour' this morning (does that mean I'm officially old now?). He played Spice Girls Stop, which instantly made me revert to my happy, innocent 12 year old self. The same 12 year old who dressed up in Tammy Girl crop tops, Mark One mini skirts and silver sparkly jelly shoes - with heels! That I had to borrow because my Mum had banned them! - and danced every routine to every Spice Girls song. In my head, I WAS the sixth spice girl. (Glitter Spice? It sort of works...)

My exact poster. Geri was always the best. Her bazoomas are practically touching her chin!

Their music, as naff and cheesy as it is, stirs something inside me; they caught me just on the cusp of my teenage-hood, while everything was just about fun and sweets and making my friends laugh and not doing my homework. The Spice Girls made me care more about my friends and fashion more than boys - I ripped down my Take That posters for a massive Spice special from the middle of Smash Hits magazine - and this attitude lasted me all the way through my teenage years. Who cares who your friends are snogging if you can scrape together pocket money to try and copy Geri's latest outfit?

I was mesmerized when she walked out in this outfit. Unfortch my mother didn't have anything as tacky as a Union Jack tea towel for me to use to copy it. Deprived again.

So for the fun and silliness and all round Girl Power, dear Spice Girls, I thank you.


Something else that had a huge impact on my pre-teen years were the Sweet Valley High books (and subsequent TV show). I remember attempting to take out every SVH book that my local library had, all in one go. The librarian was having none of it, so I simply read each one supersonically fast before rushing back for my next Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield fix.

They even look like a Mills and Boon novel!

They were basically walking, talking Barbies, who lived completely unrealistic lives in Californ.i.a. and frequently got swept up in Mills and Boon-esque romances. Looking back through vaguely adult eyes, I can now see how frankly disturbing some of the dialogue and attitudes were in Francine Pascal's novels, by my inner 12-year old still yearns for the sunshine escapism they offered.

Jessica and Elizabeth: role models for perfection-obsessed girls everywhere.

Imagine my excitement, then, when during my nostalgia moment this morning I read in Elle magazine that SVH is BACK! The author has promised a sequel novel, which will follow the twins during their thirties (weird!!) plus, a certain Diablo Cody of Juno fame is busy turning the books into a movie. Hell to the yes. That will be a guaranteed slice of pure perma-tanned perfection. More info to come in 2011, so keep your ears to the ground, SVH fans.

While I'm living this blast from the past, I might as well go all out, right?

Oh yes. Dreamphone. The ONLY game you needed to be cool. Sleepovers just weren't the same without it. In the days before mobiles, we got so over excited about a pink plastic phone that wasn't plugged in to anything! The 'Guess Who' style cards, that featured a range of boys, 99% of which were uuuuugly in that Ken doll kinda way, but 1% were super gorgeous, especially if they had a lovely curtains hairstyle. How our hearts leapt when that phone rang! For me at least in was the closest I got to getting a phone call from an actual real life guy.

(If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you obviously weren't a pre-teen girl in the late 90's. My friend, you missed out.)

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmming back to 2010, I realise that these obsessions never really went away, they just got replaced with more modern ones....

Out with the old.. (no offence Geri)


...and in with the new (show 'em how it's done, KP.)

GL

Dear Santa...

This is my fantasy Christmas wish list. As in, in my flipping dreams would this ever happen.
But I do enjoy a good dream.

Kurt Geiger Lucille pumps - I spent approximately 2.5 months looking for this exact style of shoe last winter, so KG have now thoughtfully produced a pair for £160. So very helpful of them. However, I have just seen on their website that they are offering 25% off with the code VIPSALE. Every little helps, and all that.

The Viv obsession that has gripped my brain for a very long time will never abate until I own an Ebury. Anyone got £750 spare?

Angelique Houtkamp: no introduction needed. However this 'Georgette' print, £95 at Nelly Duff gallery, needs to be introduced to my wall, rapidly.

Is it a dress? Is it a cape? TBH I don't really care, it's the red velvet Alexander Wang version of a bat in a dress and I flipping love it. It's in the Liberty sale for £553, which makes it an absolute bargain, non? So practical for flapping round the house in.

I nearly tripped over in my excitement when I first clapped eyes on Annina Vogel's vintage gold and diamond jewellery. I am extremely slow on the uptake with this designer; my boss 'discovered' and wrote about her two years ago and has had jewellery personally designed for her by this amazing lady, and la Moss is also a huge fan (which is lucky, because she is one of the select few who could actually afford these beautiful pieces.)

Comprised of antique charms, Vogel's jewellery is everything I could ever wish for; vintage, beautiful, historic, unique. We were walking through the Selfridges accessory hall when I stopped, like a rabbit in headlights, transfixed by the beauty that lay beneath a VERY thick layer of glass.

The diamond heart arrow (above) appeals to my romantic sensibilities, while the buttterfly is just bee-yoo-tiful. I thought my eyes were on the wonk when I saw the price tag of the charm bracelet though: £35,000!!! Working in fashion has still no made me blasé about the extravagant luxury that I surrounds me. But my absolute favourite has to be the diamond and ruby heart ring (what?! as I said, a girl can dream! I didn't even dare LOOK at the price tag)

can. barely. breathe. it's. so. lovely.

In a non materialistic world, there are other things I would like to add to my fantasy list:

1. That the politicians get their act together and do the right thing regarding the extortionate proposed fee increase. There has to be a better way of managing this. While you are at it, if my own student debt wanted to accidentally disappear I wouldn't tell anyone. But seriously, I have seen a lot of protesters out and about today, and I am hoping beyond hope that their efforts bring about change.

2. That everyone I love and care about has a brilliant 2011; that my family stay happy and healthy and my friends start to make headway in their careers of choice.

3. That someone invents calorie, fat and sugar free Haribo Tangfastics, which are actually good for you.

4. That my amazingly talented boyfriend gets the record deal he deserves.

That's all, really. I have been a very, very good girl this year Santa.

Love from your biggest fan,

GL

Lula Magazine, Natalie Portman and Dance Films; A Glitterbird Love-Fest!

Warning: For males of who suffer from an irrational response to the beautiful form of Natalie Portman, this post contains a picture of her in a tutu.

Hey! You have to read the words, not just scroll down! I see you!

So, Lula magazine has rocked my world for a very long time. In a time of impoverished luxury drought, it is one of the few mags that will entice me to part with my pennies, and it looks like their latest project will simply make me leg it even faster to the newsagent.

Charlotte Gainsbourg on the cover of Lula 11, looking spooky, hanging out on some spooky stairs

The eerie-looking issue 11 of Lula has been guest edited by the Rodarte sisters, who are two brilliant fashion designer twin sisters from the US of A. (Natalie Portman! Blonde Twins! gosh I am spoiling the menfolk with this post) As well as V for Vendetta lady herself, the issue also contains editorials featuring Kirsten Dunst wafting around some fields in a Havisham-esque frock, which as Cheryl would say, is 'reet up ma street'.
Kirsten Dunst, looking spooky, hanging around in a spooky field


*side note* has Kirsten Dunst made a career out of posing for Lula? I can't remember the last good movie she was in - Spiderman does not count - so she continues to rock the Virgin Suicides look in this magazine over and over again. Not that I'm complaining. Bring on the virginal suicide-ness.

From the snippets I've seen, this issue looks grrrrreat and I will be braving the cold to skip along to my local magazine vendor after work (if it hasn't sold out already, goddamit!). I was already a fan of Rodarte, but their work with Lula has cemented my passion for their shredded up, romantic, distressed aesthetic. Yeah, mental girl fashion. Bring. It. On.

The Rodarte name may have escaped the average civilian's attention, but they are about to get a whole lot more famous, because they have designed the costumes for the Portman's new ballet/thriller/psycho movie, Black Swan, which is out in January. That is, if your local multiplex decides to show it; you might have to pop down to an arty cinema that shows anything 'unusual' i.e. not The A Team.

Natalie Portman, looking spooky, hanging out with a broken face...(you get the idea)

Obviously, Natalie Portman hardly needs a lot of help to look balletic - the woman has a body of a pre-pubescent malnourished dancer at the best of times - but the Rodarte costumes are definitely adding to my anticipation for this movie. Ah, how I enjoy a good tutu.

Sparkles and feathers and sticky-out net, what little girls' dreams are made of

What's more, is that I am a crazy person when it comes to dance films. Step Up, Save The Last Dance, I care not how cheesy and predictable the storyline is, if it's got dancing in, I'm there. However this offering from Darren Aronofsky (director of The Wrestler) sounds like it contains a lot more than pirouettes; the classic prima ballerina rivalry takes a sinister turn and things get (wait for it) a bit spooky.

Mentalness and ballet, sounds great. I've always been a bit of a bunhead*, and ballet has been a big part of my life. I was thrust into ballet shoes at the age of four and got to the point where I was writing to Darcey Bussel to ask her how I could get into the Royal Ballet School (she never did reply, sort it out Darce!). I know it's hard to imagine this clutz extraordinaire doing anything remotely graceful, but I once got complimented on my port de bras. Really.

*For those who do not know what a bunhead is, please consult this book:

So the fact that this movie not only contains a brilliant actress, a messed up plot about dance rivals and mysterious psychological torture, as well as delicious costumes, means that with Black Swan, Ambassador, you are really spoiling us.

I can't wait!

GL

Images: Lula, Black Swan,

Turkeys Rule Ok

Yeah, do the turkey victory dance.

I think Bernard Matthews died last weekend i.e. on Thanksgiving, which is quite frankly too much irony for a childish person like myself to bear. I just imagined a billion turkeys doing a co-ordinated victory flash mob. Yeahhhh.

Anyway, last night I suddenly remembered a turkey-related poem which not only made me laugh like a mental person, but also kick-started the bird obsession I have had since my yoof.

Don't worry, I am not going to try and pass off the work as my own, these are the words of Benjamin Zephaniah, possibly the funniest poet who has ever put pen to paper. This is dedicated to all of those who have had to huddle like battery hens in broken down trains over the last few days tonight (that might be me later, so I have brought four Christmas jumpers with me - what?! I'm just being prepared for a hypothermia/festive crisis!)

Jamaican accent COMPULSORY when reading this. Enjoy....

Talking Turkeys

from "Talking Turkeys" by Benjamin Zephaniah

Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos' turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas,
Don't eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yu mate, an not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I'm on your side.
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of dem fear christmas time,
Dey wanna enjoy it, dey say humans destroyed it
An humans are out of dere mind,
Yeah, I got lots of friends who are turkeys
Dey all hav a right to a life,
Not to be caged up an genetically made up
By any farmer an his wife.

Turkeys just wanna play reggae
Turkeys just wanna hip-hop
Can yu imagine a nice young turkey saying,
'I cannot wait for de chop',
Turkeys like getting presents, dey wanna watch christmas TV,
Turkeys hav brains an turkeys feel pain
In many ways like yu an me.

I once knew a turkey called...Turkey
He said "Benji explain to me please,
Who put de turkey in christmas
An what happens to christmas trees?",
I said "I am not too sure turkey
But it's nothing to do wid Christ Mass
Humans get greedy an waste more dan need be
An business men mek loadsa cash'.

Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
Invite dem indoors fe sum greens
Let dem eat cake an let dem partake
In a plate of organic grown beans,
Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
An spare dem de cut of de knife,
Join Turkeys United an dey'll be delighted
An yu will mek new friends 'FOR LIFE'.

GL

Chichester Council are a Bunch of Grinches

You may remember, back in October, that I broke the news about my hometown eschewing Christmas lights this year, probably in favour of a new jacuzzi for the council staff room (don't even try to deny it, councillors).

I thought, that in the run up to Christmas they would get their frickin' act together and SORT IT OUT. Christmas this year is going to be tough enough for many people, without a lack of fairy lights further bringing down morale.

But no, it seems that even though my home is in one of the wealthiest areas in the whole country, somehow the council can't scrape together enough money for a few 100 watt bulbs. I actually have insider info that one kind civilian benefactor wanted to pay for the lights himself, but the council 'couldn't accept that sort of gift'. Pathetic P-Cness that makes me want to go all Daily Fail on their asses. We've (or rather, they) have even been named and shamed on the Beeb, who painted this depressing portrait of our city:


http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-11873191

As for the Mayor , doing that irritating-as-hell teacher-esque thing of smiling while delivering bad news (we have ears, you can't pretend what you are saying isn't completely shit just by SMILING), he makes my blood boil. 'Facing up to reality'?! Whatever. It's Christmas. It's once a year - will you not be having any lights on your 12 foot tree this year then, Mr Mayor?

Anyway, as you can tell, I'm pretty mad. Nobody messes with Christmas and gets away with it; the councillors better rectify this shameful situation ASAP or I will personally go down there and hold their luxury chocolate biscuits hostage until they do.

A BORING, DEPRESSING CHRISTMAS, AS BROUGHT TO YOU BY CHICHESTER DISTRICT COUNCIL. Thanks a bunch, you loserfaces.

PS I'm going to print this off and flyer the council offices with it, while wearing this dress. Hell to the yes.


GL