Meltdown

News

Maus Of Elliott is dispersing slightly. Until we get the new site running, I've created a M.o.E "Set" on my Flickr account, where I'll stick anything slightly relevant to what I talk about on here. It's shaping up to be quite a pretty gallery. Oh and you can catch me putting the ..."short" into "shorts" over on Tom's Flickr at the moment. Shorts and vest less than £10 altogether; perspex "crystal" hairband, 99p. All H&M, natch.

I've been reading round the style rags to try to come up with some useful treats for this "issue", and gee, guess what, braided hair is in. Again? Or still? YAWN! "The new way to chat up a woman is over a cup of tea and a sticky bun," squeals the Sunday Times STYLE insert, excitedly. The article turns out to be one man's "dating diary", as he recalls the details of four "cake dates" from his past in slightly autistic detail. And actually the article is entertaining, from a voyeuristic point of view obviously, but also for the hilarious experience of having your naif provincial expectations of sticky tea room stories ambushed almost immediately by some hard-nosed Sloane whose idea of a cake shop is "Broadwick Street in Soho", "a top-end Anglo Asian fusion poser's gaff" or "Maison Bertaux in Soho". Who lives like this? Who cares?

Forgive my rage, it's the weather. Which reminds me. I can't shake the belief that when the temperature outside the body is equal to or higher than the temperature inside it, human beings begin a Nazi-in-Raiders style meltdown. Admittedy I haven't been able to verify this, because I can't find anyone else who remotely seems to share the unbearable physical discomfort I always feel in "32 degrees in the shade". On the contrary: everywhere I look I'm surrounded by human spitroasts in halter-tops and ra-ra skirts. It's a whole new world and nothing makes sense...air-conditioned shops are empty except for a few wise mediterranean-looking students, people stuff ice-creams in their faces as if increasing their saturated fat levels will somehow cool their bodies, while the highlight of everyone's day is now drinking beer in the park because alcohol is, famously, a great rehydrater.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the summer. On days like today, when walking through town is like being dropped into a very realistic virtual reality game of Cambridge, actually located in a furnace on an alien spaceship where big alien hairdryers blow at your face in a crude simulation of wind, I just much, much prefer the spring. It doesn't really matter what you say about summer trends because in temperatures like this most people just go for what's comfortable, which is probably the same thing that was comfortable last year, and maybe the year before that. So here's some words: gypsy skirts (avoid); loose racer-back vest tops; fake "double layer" t shirts & vests (see M&S current window displays); ra-ra skirts; shorts with turn-ups; "boho" sandles; bright print dresses; skinny belts; shiny bags (Is this a joke, Gap?); sequin pumps (marvellous!). Summer is a bad time for fashion. No one wears any make up convincingly, all accessories look enormously affected (jewellery blings whether you want it to or not) and no hair style stays styled for long. So for god's sake, at least get some comfortable flipflops.

Peacock feathers will soon be everywhere. I like to think this has more to do with Camilla's wedding hat than anything else and is signalling a move toward a more comprehensive "Camilla look" moment in fashion; she always was the classier, better-looking successor to Diana.