Singing muppets 'Jedward' to take on fashion world... No, really!

You haven't read the title wrong, the Irish idiots are actually quite serious about this new venture.


In an interview with 'Now' magazine, John and Edward Grimes, 18, have revealed that they are working on a clothing line which has been inspired by the likes of Michael Jackson and Freddie Mercury...


... I think that they are slightly out of their depth with this one. As if it wasn't bad enough that we had to listen to their cringe-worthy wailing throughout last year's Xfactor series, we are now supposed to take fashion advice from two boys who think it's 'cool' to walk around with identical straw skyscrapers on top of their heads?


The boys have also announced that they will be the ones to model their new range, as 'fashion is their passion.'
Now, I wouldn't class myself as a diehard Jedward fan, (incase you couldn't surmise this fact for yourself), but from what I gathered, their 'passion' was supposed to be music... well, ruining it anyway.


Does no-one have the heart to tell these boys that enough is simply enough? Because I really wouldn't have a problem with it.
In my opinion, the only reason that they have made it this far as 'popstars', is due to the sad fact that the British race simply love to watch people make fools of themselves, we don't however like to be made fools of ourselves, thus I can conclude that there will simply be no market for a range of clothes which will render the wearer a social recluse.


Do I think that the biggest names of the fashion world should wait with baited breath to see if this latest 'celeb' endorsed line will crush them?


No.


In fact, if the twins' fashion talents are on the same level as their singing ability, then I think that it would only be sporting for a fashion God such as Armarni to give them a little hand...that is providing the Emporio industry are in need of good laugh...

The only place where traditional fashion doesn't belong!

OK, I have just got back from Download festival and have much to tell about losing my music festival virginity... but for now, let us discuss the beloved subject of ‘fashion’... or in this case a severe lack of it.

I really don’t know where to begin... though this delayed thought process may be due to the fact that sleep has been just as non-existent as portaloo cleanliness over the past four days. 

The usual eccentric ensembles were on display... man-kinis, tutus, banana suits, various animal costumes, Mexican wrestling masks, rubber zombie animal masks, odd shaped hats and very occasionally; the most disturbingly hairy birthday suits. 

Noting the outfits and the general appearance of others over the course of the last few days has been an... erm... interesting experience, and listening into the conversations of others who are worse off than you are- either due to intoxication by one or more substances, or simply due to general madness, which envelopes you once you lapse into a severe case of hygiene withdrawal.

The most amusing utterance to hit my ears came from a young girl of about 16 years of age. Her simple inquisition of: “do I look OK” to her friend in the portaloo queue has never been so funny. 

I answered this question, (in my mind), with this: ‘No. You most certainly do not look OK and I am not being harsh, just let me explain: you are stood in a suspiciously coloured puddle; wearing an ill-fitting ‘Wonder Woman’ costume- which clashes horribly with your orange neon socks and sweatbands, add these elements plus the mud which is caked up the back of your legs and arse; a disturbing wet patch on your chest; the make-up streaming down your happy, (yet sweaty) face, plus the fact that you probably smell like a biffa bin on a hot summers day. All of these elements have, unsurprisingly, led me to the conclusion that no my dear, you do not look OK... no-body does! 

This is the only time that I will ever advise this, but the best fashion tips for festivals is: take lots of rubbish clothing and pack for all weathers, in a word, ‘comfy clothing’... 

...Yes people, I’m talking OAP gear. 

All of these high street shops which are trying to ploy you with ‘festival must-haves’ are liars. You do not need any nice things, and certainly not new things. 

Before I embarked on my festival trip I naively planned outfit combinations for each day, including a couple of spares and matching accessories but by the end of the first day, all of my plans had been destroyed, and towards the end I simply ended up throwing my body into my bag of creased clothing and surfacing from the dark tent wearing whatever garments had managed to cling to my body, in their near-correct positions. 

In addition to OAP comfort garments, I would recommend these items as the actual festival must-haves: 

• Hat(s). I took my favourite straw trilby, but it got crushed- and you wouldn’t even be able to guess how it met its end, it just did. 

• Baby Wipes. No matter what you wear, you will still feel gross, always keep the wet wipes on hand to freshen up, they only leave you feeling great for about five minutes but that’s better than nothing.

• Bin liners. They can be cleverly transformed into disposable mackintoshes should the weather take a turn for the worse. 

• Sunglasses. Hide the bloodshot and the bags, not attractive but inevitable. 

• Large jumper/hoodie x2. I am ashamed to say that one of mine survived on my body for about 36hrs straight... and may have been worn again on a later occasion... and possibly again on the way home.  

If you haven’t been to a festival, I’m really not trying to put you off, I had the time of my life... but just don’t expect to look your best in a place where you get dressed muddy tent and spend most of your time in a sweaty arena, showering in nothing but the rain and any other suspicious liquids which fly through the air. 

Click on the links above for practical festival attire ideas...

Extend Halloween? Definitely not.

Earlier this month, The Sun newspaper reported that a new fashion craze is sweeping American high schools:

"PACKS of teenagers are going to school as WEREWOLVES...

"The kids wear yellow contact lenses and fangs - and even have fake furry tails attached to their jeans."

At first I was a little skeptical of this story, The Sun newspaper have been known to stretch the truth, tweak story elements and completely fabricate their 'exclusives' for a spot of publicity. 

However, after researching this story I can conclude that this new 'craze' is legitimate in its existence... confused teenagers are actually expressing 'hate', 'resentment', 'individuality' and all that other stuff by dressing like 'creatures of the night' because apparently it makes them feel as though they 'belong' to something.

Now don't get me wrong, I am all for expressing individuality and such, and I must admit that whilst I was making the difficult transition into adulthood, I felt the need to regularly dip my face into a bucket of black paint and stock up on outfits suitable only for the most morbid church services- all in the name of 'Goth', but never did I feel the need to retain my Halloween costumes in the belief that I could integrate aspects of spooky dress-up into regular wardrobe circulation. 

Not many of you will have even picked up on this story, after all it's only teenagers being teenagers right? We all regret some of our past fashion choices and this is simply accepted as a 'trial and error' part of life that we all must experience, I just think that sometimes, 'trends' go a little bit too far.  

In this instance, the 'Twilight' saga has been blamed for kick-starting the trend, as the film and book franchise carries with it a huge teenage fan-base, but I don't think the origins of trends can ever really be properly pinpointed. If people are so easily influenced, then day-to-day life should be more interesting than it actually is. 

I mean, if groups of adults started dressing up as their favourite film or book characters, then they would more than likely be branded 'insane' and promptly removed from society. 

I enjoyed the new Ironman film last week, but that doesn't mean that I am going to forge a new outfit out of aluminium foil, tin cans and fairy lights. 

Come on kids! Yes, it is normal to want to experiment with your look and try and stand out in the crowds of mainstream fashions but I am willing to bet large sums of money that all of you 'Werewolf' people will look back on this particular trend and cringe with embarrassment. Take this piece of advice from someone who knows: there are much better ways to go about 'making a statement' than dressing like something from supernatural culture.  Be yourself, not a character from a story or a fictional creature... 

... However, if you are in-fact real Werewolves, then please ignore the above passage and accept my apologies and the promise that I will buy you a bone or a chew toy if I ever meet you in person... or... erm 'animal'...   

Click on the links above and below to find out more... 

Were-child

You do look like a stilton person...

I hate food shopping.

I have hated food shopping since I was a little girl and NOTHING has changed.

I don't know what it is about food shopping but there must be a reason why some people, who may be approachable in other locations, just turn into complete arse's whilst at the supermarket.

I think that this is something which needs to be investigated further.

The reason for this carefully worded 'post'... cough (rant), is mainly due to the fact that I got crushed today whilst doing my weekly food shop at Sainsbury's.

Some strange creature- who smelt like an ash-tray and looked like a scrunched up version of the miserable 'Mona Lisa', pinned me against a pillar in the supermarket with her trolley, as I attempted to casually browse the cheese section.

At first I thought that this was simply an oversight on her part- that maybe, she just hadn't seen me there... but unbelievably, this was not the case!

After a few seconds, I cleared my throat in an attempt to attract her attention but she merely glanced back at me, before taking her sweet time choosing a particularly smelly and sweaty looking cheese.

Maybe like choice of dog, you can tell more about the personality of someone from the type of cheese that they choose to eat.

So there I was, my life passing before my eyes as I stood pinned against a pillar in Sainsbury's, my left arm going numb as I clutched a chilled bottle of milk.

At the time, I wasn't even sure that I would ever get free.

Maybe if supermarkets had lifeguards sitting on really tall chairs so that they could watch over the shop, they could rescue the naive food shopper like me, from brutal predators such as 'Scrunched Mona'.

Eventually Scrunched Mona chose her cheese and waddled off but not before shooting me a glance which plainly said: 'talk to me... and I will eat you'.

Lovely.

I think you have to be aggressive when you go food shopping, otherwise you just won't survive necessary supermarket trips.

I even managed to have issues in the car-park whilst trying to leave.

Stupidly, I chose a route out of the car-park which takes you across the front of the shop, meaning that you meet three zebra crossings on the way out.

The first two were relatively easy to pass over and I confidently shifted into second gear as the exit was merely yards in front of me... but then... I stopped.

I couldn't help it.

There was a sweet old lady fighting to steer her shopping trolley across my path and I had to let her go.

Problem is, when you wait for one, you have to wait for the rest of the world, as each case seems just as desperate as the last...

...he has kids with him and clearly needs to get back to his car soon, I'll let her go, she looks friendly enough, the next man has a slight limp, he'd better go too and so on and so forth.

Needless to say, I wasn't popular with the angry motorists queuing up behind me.

I might have to invest in Karate lessons or something, just so that I can boost my confidence levels and learn to be more aggressive... either that, or just stop eating.

What's worse, is that I have just discovered that whilst in an understandable state of shock, I must have picked up the wrong variety of cheese and so now I must survive on 'Organic Wenslydale' for the foreseeable future, as punishment for my timidness.

Thank god clothes shopping isn't this dramatic, otherwise I just don't know what I'd do.

High-sneak snippets

Sometimes complete strangers have the ability to make you smile and sometimes it happens when you are in need of it the most.

Whilst out shopping you see a coloured range of people and they are often so caught up in the happenings of their busy shopping trip, that they don't quite realise that what they are muttering to their friend, may as-well be broadcasted on the department store's tannoy system.

Sometimes they are speaking just a fraction too loud and attract a mass of attention... and sometimes you just simply can't help but overhear...

In this new (soon-to-be-regular) feature of my blog, I bring to you snippets of high-street conversation with the aim of making YOU smile.

I will log short snappy sentences or quick quirky conversations which I hear whilst taking in my regular dose of retail therapy.

I aim to give those of you who find shopping a chore, something to listen out for when you yourselves are battling in the high-street and everyone else... well, just something to smile about.

.............................................................

During a half time coffee break on one of my random spending sprees, I overheard a conversation between two middle-aged women on the table next to me.

What I heard quite literally had me fighting to keep my face straight in the pretence that I hadn't bared witness to anything out of the ordinary.

What made this eavesdropping episode particularly amusing, was the fact that the women in question were quite clearly the 'well-to-do' types, making what came out of their mouths all the more surprising.

Their conversation went something like this:

Upper class lady one: "Darling, am I looking unusually lovely today or something?"

Upper class lady two: "Erm... you always look lovely my dear why?"

Upper class lady one: "Well I don't want to sound bigheaded but I seem to be attracting quite a lot of male attention today and I swear I got winked at in the street!

Upper class lady two: "Yes I did notice"

Upper class lady one: "You did?"

Upper class lady two: "Erm... yes... aren't you cold in just your silk top?"

Upper class lady one: "Not overly sweetie why?"

Upper class lady two: "Now you won't take this the wrong way dear will you?"

Upper class lady one: "Take what the wrong way?" (laughing)

Upper class lady two: "Well it's just that your chest rather looks like it is trying to pick up radio signals."

And upon this sublime utterance 'Upper class lady one' promptly claps her hands over her nipples in a most indiscreet manner.

.............................................................

Magnificent.

Vampiric shoes

Note to self: If a new pair of shoes cuts into the flesh of your heel and results in pleasant pool of blood collecting in said shoe... do not then put them on the very next day thinking that your destroyed heel is now miraculously capable of dealing with the blood draining sweeties.

Why do we do it? Even when an item of clothing, (or shoe), attempts to cut our brief existence on this planet short... we always justify wearing it again because it 'looks cute' or makes us look like them 'supermodel types'.

It is ridiculous when you think about it and yet we all do it... and most of us will probably do it again soon, maybe even right now you are wearing something which is not in the least bit comfortable????

I'm not going down the OAP route of promoting 'comfy' clothing- you know, the type of which consists of sagging trackie bottoms, moth-eaten jumpers and ill-fitting vest tops... but maybe, just maybe if we all wore more 'practical' things, then we could remove the first-aid kit from our handbags and free up much needed room!

Who am I trying to kid? It's a proven scientific fact that wearing body-destroying items is a woman's weakness and someone needs to come up with a cure- fast!!!

In the meantime I know I shall probably wear said vampiric shoes again- they are very 'cute' but I definitely won't be wearing them tomorrow... probably.

Saw someone wearing white leggings...

... and they looked like they had two misshapen tictacs hanging off of their torso.

White leggings never look good- don't do it people!

No to neon!

Listen up kids, word of advice: you may think that wearing neon accessories is cool and 'ironic' because you think that you look like you're about to go clubbing- when you plainly aren't old enough. But I can tell you that neon accessories look cheap and tacky.

Do you ever see Kate Moss or Victoria Beckham wearing neon?? No? Funny that...

Adding neon colours to a daily wardrobe did not work in the 1990's for Screech from Saved by the bell... so it definitely does not work for you (and if you're too young to know who screech is- then look him up!)

I remember in my day, we stuck to colours that didn't blind onlookers and create a potential crash hazard...

... so if, for some inexplicable reason, you still insist on wearing neon, please just stay off of the side of the roads.

Greater expense doesn't make it better

Looking in the mirror in the mornings can be an alarming experience... like when the eye make-up you failed to remove properly the night before has migrated down the side of your face and resulted in a theatrical ‘zombie’ look.

No-one looks ready for the catwalk in the mornings but the worst problem has to be the ‘bed hair’.

The problem with having short hair, is that it’s hard to control, especially when you frequently wake up looking like Vivienne from the Young Ones.

You’d think that with such a common problem, the standard of hair-styling products would therefore be through the roof- alas no!

I have purchased ‘the latest scientific breakthrough in hair styling products’, more times than I can count... and have been disappointed every time.

My constant search for a decent product as lead me to conduct a trial of three top brands, the results of which, were quite surprising:

1) John Masters organic hair texturizer £17.00

Anything with the word ‘organic’ in the title usually leaves me feeling pretty smug at its purchase but unfortunately the good points end here.

The instructions advise that you use the product sparingly but this resulted in the hair gunk drying out on my hands before it had even reached my head.

Though it did add considerable texture and volume, upon closer inspection I realised that product had dried in snow-like clumps all over my head- not easy to cover-up in April!

2) Toni & Guy texture paste £5.99

Although the fruity smell is enticing, this product is by far the worst.

The thick, wet, moulding gunk, caused my straightened hair to return to it’s curly poodle-like state in an instant, leaving it too heavy and greasy to work with.

3) Lee stafford messed up spray wax £4.49

I love this product.

Everything from the bright pink packaging- which attracts me like a magpie to shiny things, to the great-smelling product within.

It textured my hair brilliantly, leaving it glowing and perfectly styled. I suspect that it wouldn’t have the strength to style longer hair but I definitely recommend it for those with short, to shoulder length locks.

A David Attenblog

I often refer to a shopping trip as an 'animalistic hunt' and anyone who has properly encountered the 'hullabaloo' of end-of-season sales, would not disagree.

I once witnessed two middle-aged women display a fascinating behavioral pattern which is normally associated with alpha-male gorillas during mating season. Each female competing for the prize, (in this case a pair of jeans with 30 per cent off), whilst the shoppers who manage to retain decorum merely stalk the edges of the shop- waiting to scavenge garments which are left clinging limply to the carcass of the sale rail.

After undertaking numerous shopping expeditions, I have documented many fascinating creatures which thrive in the retail world.

Often ignored but ever-present is the ‘shop assistant’ and in this very special blog, I provide you with information which has never before been documented about this creature and the three most common breeds.

1) Snobiousshopious

This particular creature is very specific about their habitat. They will not be found in common high-street shops and normally prefer to build a nest out of the finest available materials.

Be warned, this particular shop assistant can become quite hostile if it thinks that you have no placing within its' ‘finer’ hierarchic territory.

Blend in with its' natural surroundings and show that you do not feel intimidated by composing yourself with graceful airs.

2) Colossallybewilderdicus

Unfortunately, this particular breed of shop assistant is very common and can become quite alarmed when posed with even the simplest of questions.

It’s best to avoid this creature at all costs, or you may be left dealing with a painfully gormless display of highly bewildering stupidity.

3) Deservingbutnevergettingpromotionous

Finally, we have the rarest of all the creatures; the ‘caring’ assistant.

Distinguishable behavioural patterns include: genuine helpfulness and a believable expression of sorrow- often displayed when sought after garments are not in stock.

They work tirelessly to assemble a variety of coloured garments in order to create a display that will impress a largely female audience.

Look out for this particular species and treat them well because in such a profit driven industry, their numbers are sadly decreasing.

Second hand brassieres?

This week I did something which I thought I would never do... going against every instinct in my body- every fiber screaming at me to stop, to think and take heed...

I cautiously swing open the dented door to what some people refer to as; the untapped ‘Aladdin's cave’ of shops... The charity shop:

The musty odour slams into me faster than the unstoppable bus which rampages through the streets of Los Angeles in the film:Speed.

The smell is simply eye-watering and almost indescribable- perhaps it has something to do with the flea bitten feline which glares at me from above- prowling the rickety (and worryingly unstable) wooden shelving.

Its’ cold yellow eyes seem to burn into my very soul... even the cat thinks that I don’t belong here.

With my instincts (and nose) imploring me to do otherwise; I take a shaky step further into the unknown...

There are others in this grubby shop, I can’t really tell; they seem to sense my presence but do not acknowledge me, as they scurry up and down the roughly marked aisles in desperate ‘animalistic’ like pursuit of their prey: the ever elusive ‘bargain’.

The woman to the right of me- I vaguely recognise. Her faded plum Macintosh glistens with- what I fear to be: bird droppings.

This must be Cheltenham’s very own: ‘Crazy bird lady.’

I have heard people speak of her before- the woman who spends her days feeding and stroking the flying rats which swoop maliciously about the town.

She appears to be muttering to herself as she viciously attacks the drab garments which cling limply to their rusty hangers.

The speed at which she hunts is quite alarming and the look of fear in her cloudy blue eyes seems to suggest that she feels threatened by the presence of the other shoppers- well either of the shoppers or of the cat- which has now turned its’ ugly squashed face in curious attention towards her.

Ignoring the fruitful specimen of shoppers, I begin my search for the intangible ‘bargain’- carefully stepping over the dusty and damaged ‘brick-a-brack’ which clutters the equally aged carpet.

I glance at the clothing which hangs in savage execution on the railing. I suspect these items were once loved but most have certainly seemed to have had surpassed their expected wear time... perhaps I’ll leave the clothes for today.

Onwards to the jewellery which gleams in silent protest from within the shabby glass encasement in the centre of the shop.

Most items have been tossed uncaringly onto the chipped clear shelving.

To call these pieces ‘retro’ or ‘vintage’ is an understatement as I imagine that most pieces have been in existence for a very long time- which wouldn’t normally be a bad thing but the quality of the items is strangely reminiscent of the type of items which I suspect to burst out of ‘value’ crackers during the festive period... I’ll leave buying new accessories for today.

I walk meekly to the back of the shop where the shop-owner appears to dwell.

The woman behind the counter grunts in acknowledgement as I cautiously peer into the row of ripped cardboard containers which sit on the surface of the table before her alongside a bag of fowl-smelling cat food and a dish of warm milk.

She does not seem pleased that I have made it this far and the unpleasant lines around her mouth suggests that she has spent a large proportion of her life scowling at her customers for disturbing her concentration whilst reading the damp 'trash' magazine which lies before her.

Undeterred and with bated breath I take a closer look at the contents of the largest box...

...That can’t be what I think it is! Oh God it is... it’s a woman’s bra no... an entire box!

Apparently you can recycle everything...

No... This really is the final straw- it’s simply not normal! Any shred of bravery and curiosity has seeped out of me... I will leave the charity shop for today.

I had never greeted fresh air with so much relief in my entire life and I can now truly understand how Andy Dufresne felt after his escape from Shawshank prison.

I learnt two things from this mentally challenging experience:

1) Apparently you can buy second hand brassieres- you really have to see the condition of theses stained support garments to understand the true horror of this disturbing detail.

2) The people who refer to the ‘charity shop’ as ‘Aladdin’s cave’ must be one of two things; either: mentally unfortunate, or as I suspect: liars, who take some kind of sick pleasure out of seeing pale people clawing their way back to high street normality.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not normally the type to take a sneery ‘middle-class’ view on things but there are some places which truly baffles the mind.

Do famous people like Fearne Cotton really shop in these places for their fashionable vintage outfits?

I have since learnt that apparently there are ‘special’ charity shops where ‘A-listers’ dump their clothes due to an inexplicable fear of wearing the same garment twice.

If this is true then I am wiling to give this particular variety of shop a second chance... however until the exact location of these shops are confirmed; I will just stick to giving to the charity shops.

Spotted a celeb so here commith the classic copy cat advice

Met BBC Radio one DJ Edith Bowman last night, and I’m not ashamed to say that I was slightly; (or massively), star-struck; so much in fact, that in a desperate attempt to get closer to the DJ booth where she was at- I managed to burn my foot quite badly on the smoke machine. 

To the right you will see from left: Me, Sarah (housemate) and the Bowman. 

Anyways brushing my awkward celeb pursuit aside, one thing that I did note was the fact that she managed to harbour a refreshing air of normality, despite the fact that she was being mobbed by hundreds of sweaty alcopop fuelled students. 

She seemed lovely and regularly halted her manic dancing to hug and greet anyone who stopped by to say hi... no entourage, no fuss.  

Her outfit very much suited the venue and company... no try hard designer gear as you very often get from the people who sign up for a DJ guest spot. 

The petite blonde opted for the ever-fashionable ‘casual nautical’ look. A simple black and white striped top teamed nicely with a pair of good quality leggings: completely effortless yet absolutely stylish. 

Edith's simple outfit can be recreated the right way for just £26. 

                  

Top: £10 (Dorothy Perkins)

Black leggings with popper detail: £16 (Next)

Match up with some comfy pumps or delicate heels and a neck-full of long beaded jewellery.

Barbie goes 'geek chic'

Don’t worry kids, you can look ridiculous and still get a job in IT!

At last parents everywhere can breathe a sigh of relief as the makers of Barbie have come up with a 'completely new look’ for the fashionable doll which they hope will help to assure young girls that they can overcome a ‘nerdy’ trade stereotype and embrace the life of an IT consultant...

... as long as they dress in vomit inducing outfits, suffer from partial blindness and maintain an unrealistic body shape- well done Mattel (Barbie masterminds).

In an interview with the BBC, a female web designer says:

"It's very much a young man's industry... Women find the need to become quite laddish. You try and become very geeky and not particularly feminine."

...Do they really?

I know several girls who work in IT departments and I have never noticed any of them scratching their crotches and belching for enjoyment.

The outfit donned by the plastic role model is questionable within the realms of taste to say the least but aside from a pair of pink, thick rimmed glasses- presumably an unoriginal attempt to make Barbie look more intelligent, there is no difference to her appearance.

I must however applaud Barbie, acquiring the talent to balance her fabulous pink laptop on her own forearm is a truly remarkable skill.

Unfortunately, the assumption that women who currently work in IT are 'unfashionable', is bold yet insulting, and feeds the very stereotype that they are allegedly striving to overturn.

Ah well, it’s just a toy... right?