Once again, beautiful fashion thwarts the best intentions

This morning I started writing notes for my next blog post. I had a grand, schemey scheme, in which I was going pay more attention to the lesser-known designers instead of just the designers everyone talks about. In an aside that I promise will make sense in a minute, it’s important that I tell you we have a greyhound racing track in our neighbourhood. Whenever we feel like being a bit toothless and trashy, the Husband and I wander down to bet a gold coin on the cutest dog with the curliest tail.

Not unlike the obviously precise curly-tail system of choosing dogs that has so far made us very wealthy, I was going to base my designer choices on the scientific principles of I-don't-think-they're-famous or that’s-a-funny-name, (like Creatures of the Wind). I had a plan, see?

I had a plan until I saw the Marc Jacobs collection photos on The Sartorialist.

My former plan isn't totally out the window, but it’s definitely on hold because today it’s imperative to pay homage to Marc Jacobs.

I love the askew mini-beret-head-scarf hybrids, the spotted everything, the colours that are at the same time muted and rich, the humpbacked coat and the funny little Wellington heel booties. Australian winter is just around the corner and now I have some great inspiration. It's a brisk 26 celcius today, and for some perspective, consider that it was 46 celcius two weekends ago. I can’t wait for 20 degrees when I can crack out my mitts and my mini-beret. Brrrr.












Looking at the pieces I chose from what I thought was a pretty colourful collection, I think it's safe to assume that I really like the colour navy. Like, a lot.