more fleas, please!

I woke up super early today because I hadn’t had the definite go-ahead to have the day off. Luck must have been on my side though, cause a text came through telling me I’d be needed Sunday instead. So I spent the morning with Paris, aching for some newbie pieces to put my wardrobe in good stead for next week’s appointments. It’s hard to be able to afford all my frocks for work, so I headed for the thrift stores and a flea market over the river. I had twenty euros in my purse, a croissant stuffed in my pocket and about a million layers on under my trench.



I arrived super early and it was like a vintage ghost town, just beyond the gate at Clingnancourt. Just me and jack frost ready to take on the treasure hunt of these tiny lanes and make-shift stalls. Grannies wrapped up in fur sat with their papers and coffees outside their stands offering smiles and tempting me into their caves of vintage. I promised myself I would go steady and had to stick to things I needed. Some new boots and maybies another coat. Problem. I came away with a polka-dot vintage two-piece, two silver beauties and some sheepskin mittens but it’s all pretty special and cost almost nothing. I controlled myself on the crockery stalls, teacups are my sweetest downfall but today I managed to come away with just one. When I have a house of my very own, my cupboards will be full of mixed up china, the cups won’t match the saucers and the spoons will never be the same and you’ll get what your given.

On an interns salary, which is near nothing really, your imagination becomes worth more than the pennies in your purse. The trick of an intern is to do things on the cheap and still turn out like a show pony day in day out. With five years of fashion debt behind me and now my rent in Paris to scramble together, i try to change things little and often. After all, we need to save some spends for after-work drinks to do all that networking lark in this never ending story of interning.
I’ve got a pink-rinse on the go at the moment, my silvery crop takes a dose of it every two weeks and it varies from pinks to lilacs to blues, depending on how long I leave the stuff on for. It’s pretty candyfloss at the moment, maybe I need to calm it?

Accessorise are a blessing too, they can instantly put a new spin on a frock and I’ve got a box full of necklaces, rings, brooches and hair slides I play dress up with. There’s so much hidden away in flea markets, jumble sales and even in the back of my mums wardrobe, that it’s just a case of injecting a dose of your imagination, mixing a little bit of new with the old and making it something that’s yours. For me it’s a case of doing what I can with what I’ve got and right now I haven’t got two pennies to rub together so will be a regular Saturday morning girl at the French fleas from now on. Voila.

i'm selling ten dots a dime.

polka dot, polka dot, give me the best you've got.


my new best friends.

eye-spy.

these are the sunnies i found today looking uncared for and unappreciated in a run-down shop behind where i work. just what i need to cover up my tired looking intern eyes. so i took them home for something like seven english pounds. steal.
i'm preying for that nasty kind of sun in the morning, the blinding kind.


if your craving: Topshop have some similar looking ones in tortoise shell for near enough fifteen smackers but if your in the monies, Karen Walker is your girl.

topshop.com
karenwalkereyewear.com

my year.

i have been trawling through old collections of designers today, looking for some very specific things and keeping my eyes and mind open at the same time to find new inspirations. I've made a huge file on my mac that i've got to go and get printed first thing tomorrow and then make into a big, fat file. I've had a constant cup of coffee and eaten my way through the bakery which is underneath our building. I have got so much done though, it's been worth getting goggly mac eyes.

I have this kind of tradition where whoever i am researching, i always have a gander at their collection of the year i was born. 1988. Today i had a peek at what Gaultier was getting up to when i was teeny. I love how the photography from the shows back then were taken from such a low level, every press person would get their own individual snap and that was that. I'd have liked a go at that game.

i
spy
with
my
little
eye
some
pale
faces
this
spring
summer.
i'm
up
for
that.
are
you?

xx