Birthday boy

I would apologise for the number of photos in this post but, you know, it's my birthday party and I'll do what I want. I feel that every good birthday, like every good meal, comes in at least five parts so I'm breaking the blog post down this way. Perhaps this will help the overindulgence go down in the most delightful way...

We kicked things off with cocktails at the Sanderson's Long Bar. Famous for being a den of iniquity (i.e. where high calibre ladies-of-the-night like to congregate in search of prey), the hotel is enjoying something of a renaissance and the lit-up bar still evokes New York cool. Charlie wore her Ann D skirt split up to here to fit in with the usual clientèle. Drunkenness Level: 1/10.

We quickly moved onto a delicious dinner at L'Autre Pied. Mother and I tried it out last time she was down and were hooked, especially because it has a separate vegetarian menu. I had a medley of broccoli (one of my favourite vegetables) while the others chowed down on fish and Silka deer. Apparently the desserts were so amazing that Anna actually had to go face-down in hers although I opted for a slate of cheeses complete with birthday candle. Red wine, white wine and a couple of dessert wines led to the Drunkenness Level reaching a good 5/10.

Thamanyah

Usually the Just in stock! type emails I wake up to every morning from the likes of Net-A-Porter, Luisa Via Roma, etc drive me round the twist. Everyone basically stocks the same designers and they try to palm off current season pieces as fresh and exciting in their editorial shots and cobbled-together moodboards when really all I can think about is next season...  However, every so often a design pops up that really piques my interest and actually encourages me to open my browser. Cut to Sunday morning, hungover as Hell after my birthday party (H-I-larious photos to come when I get extricate my memory card from flatmate's laptop), clutching a pint glass of VitaminWater (it's all about the multi-v still lemonade) as I drool over Ahmed Abdelrahman's Eastern/Western fusion designs on LN-CC.

I haven't heard of Ahmed or his brand, Thamanyah, before but I'm hooked. A quick Googling session didn't yield much information though what I found looks promising. The Dubai-born designer is a protégé of Michelle Lamy, presumably the reason behind his backing by Rick Owens, and his first commercial collection for SS 12 is inspired by the four supposed defining concepts of the Arab peninsula – identity, religion, military might and petroleum.

Taking oil and the military as inspiration could lead to a studenty hodgepodge of a collection but instead Thamanyah is a line of essentially traditional Arabic garb reconstructed in Western fabrics with modern cuts. The wool gabardine kandoras are simple, striking and monastic in their austerity, although a thread on Style Zeitgeist has relegated them to the heap labelled “good for editorial but completely unwearable”. Not so sure about that but then I have been known to wear a black floor-length dress. I'm a particular fan of the trousers-with-skirt combination (finally answering the seasons-old question, 'Can men wear peplums?') and the kilt which are much more Charles Guislain than souk-chic attire. I'm looking forward to seeing what Ahmed produces for AW. And for the prices to come down a notch or two...

xxx

Duck

So fresh and so clean clean

The title of this post probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense considering this first set of images but hopefully it will by the end.  I may have left my house feeling fresh and clean but I certainly didn't look it by the time I'd made it to Queen's Park tube.  It's been so windy in London recently (apparently we've had all the summer we're going to get) that very few outfits are managing to make it through the day unharmed.  Even my hair is only coping due to copious applications of extra strength Elnett.  There's no equivalent of helmet-head for apparel so I was already a crumpled mess when I met up with Lexxi.  It probably didn't help that I decided now was the best time whip out one of my Antwerp purchases, a super-thin crêpe Damir Doma shirt-dress that creases like a bitch.

"Whaaat, Damir Doma from the Antwerp stock sales!", I hear you cry incredulously?  But Damir isn't Belgian... True, but while we there, Charlie and Lexxi took me to a shop specialising in 'recent designer clothing', Labels Inc.  Normally I'm not really a vintage kind of guy (let's just call it second-hand, OK?) but you can actually find brand new pieces in this shop - this shirt still had the original Damir tags on.  We think the owners travel around Europe going to all the sample sales, hoard up the bargains they find, and then sell them on at a profit.  In that case, I probably didn't get this for the lowest price possible, but considering I don't get invited to Damir Doma sample sales (Paris?) it was still a lot cheaper than the RRP.  It's not looking its best here but trust me, after a good iron it's pretty damn nice.  Stasie might even go as far as calling this outfit 'homeless-chic' but fearing a Galliano-style backlash, she's keeping her beak shut.       

Modern

My birthday party plans for Saturday are finally taking shape - I've decided on a theme of modernism/modernity/futurism.  It's been a bloody uphill battle getting any sort of event organised at all.  First my family organised a big event on the day I was planning to celebrate (i.e. the weekend nearest my real birthday).  Then the restaurant I eventually settled on decided to SHUT DOWN without telling me; I was only saved the embarrassment of showing up at an abandoned building with 7 guests by a kind soul from Twitter.  I have now found a venue which is indeed open on the day I would like and serves up some tasty, modern French grub.  Looking good.  Now I just need to sort the outfit.  

I'm taking my inspiration on the theme from Raf Simons, be that from his eponymous line or his late collections for Jil Sander.  I have Hapsical and Horst to blame for my new obsession with the minimalist Belgian.  Alright, so I'm really just looking for an opportunity to show off the one piece of archive Raf I managed to afford in Antwerp but it's my birthday and I most definitely will cry if I want to.  I think the only piece left I need to complete my look is a simple, short-sleeved, fitted black t-shirt - preferably in a semi-silky/stretch fabric.  After Antwerp my budget definitely does not stretch to Raf or Jil anymore though so I'm taking high street suggestions for some last-minute Saturday shopping!  Twitter informs me Uniqlo is a good bet.  I just really hope they don't twist or stretch in the wash, that's my main issue with cheap(er) basics.  Help please... 

xxx

Duck

P.S. How are we feeling about the new blog look?  Still working on it but I think it's getting there.  

All runway photos of Raf Simons and Jil Sander menswear borrowed from Style.com

We Are Family

This weekend saw the entire Duck clan descend on London for a memorial dinner for my Great Aunt who passed away a year ago.  We hadn't all been able to get back home for the funeral then so this was the first time we were all together.  This was to be a celebration of Aunt Betty, the woman who famously walked through a Hilton lobby in her underwear (why buy a bikini?), drove a moped because she failed her driving test so many times, and insisted on paying with pound notes across Europe her entire life ("Euros?! I don't use Euros!").  Good old British eccentricity.  Drinks at the RAF Club, dinner at Cecconi's and back to the hotel (my parents always stay at the Melia White House) for a nightcap or ten.  Not everyone in the party was as much of a fan of Cecconi as I, but I certainly enjoyed my burrata with aubergine and tapenade and the asparagus and pecorino risotto, all finished off by a slice of blood orange tarte with the smoothest mascarpone ice-cream I've ever experienced.  The highlight - a cleansing glass of Strega which we find so hard to get in this country!  I can't get enough of the sickly-sweet, medicinal flavour.     

Changes

You may have noticed that a few changes have occurred over night.  Having recently left Handpicked Media, I have now removed all ads from my blog and done away with the cluttered sidebar altogether.  The irony of this occurring the day Melanie Rickey announces joining that network is not lost on me.  I figured that as the quality of my photography improves, I need more room to show off the pictures.  This change in scaling has probably completely distorted my older posts but I'm not even going to look at that right now... This is still very much a work in progress (if anyone knows how to get rid of the ugly borders appearing around photos and framing the blog, please let me know!) and you might see things moving about a bit over the next week or so.  In particular, I'm going to move the majority of the content that was in the sidebar to pages accessible from the top of the site.  Anyway, if something doesn't seem to be working for you, I'd really appreciate it if you could let me know!

xxx

Duck

My new favourite comment

"Yes we all know you have a rich mother. But just keep in mind that the majority of your followers on twitter do not have rich parents and find it incredibly condescending when you talk 'mother' to all of us. You might be able to drop label after label name constantly with that you are wearing, or more like who you are wearing, just remember you're followers who have less money than you find this rude. Yes your mother this and your mother that. I can come up with a nice sentence for you which includes the words mother. Figure it out." 

I can't actually be bothered discussing this in full (again) so let's bullet-point it, OK?

• If Karen Walker in Will & Grace isn't your favourite TV character ever, you're really not going to get my Twitter sense of humour.  Just unfollow me.
• Read this post by Jane.  This is basically how I can afford things.  Sometimes I get things for free and point this out when I do.  But actually even if I were filthy fucking rich and collected couture dresses on a regular basis, I'm not sure that would make me a terrible human being.  If it would, I guess I better unfollow Daphne Guinness.
• My spending is pretty focused in one area.  I don't spend money on other hobbies because I don't really have any other hobbies that cost anything  (I also don't have children and haven't driven myself into credit card debt).  This seems a good time to bring up another of Jane's points: live within your means.
• I blog about fashion. If you think fashion is ridiculous [the best often is!] and inherently bad then why exactly are you following me here? If my obsession were football and I bought tickets to every game going, I bet you wouldn't judge me quite as much.
  
• I don't leave anonymous comments on blogs. 
• I can't believe I'm even attempting to justify myself here.

No kisses for you tonight, people.

Duck. 

P.S. OK, fine: XXX

Kiltin'

When travelling with a pack of bloggers, even at 6am, it is always important that you look impossibly chic and carry as many Apple products as customs will allow. You must develop your own secret language ('J'ADORE', 'breb', '#yohji'), shriek spontaneously at any time of the day or night, and reference SH*T FASHION GIRLS SAY ad infinitum. The importance of a morning beer cannot be overemphasised.  If you can work a kilt into your early bird outfit, bonus points!  Oh, and when you finally get to your hotel, remember it's OK to jump on the bed.  You're a fashion blogger.  

P.S. Breaks can be spent worrying about physics, updating some computer code and drafting your next paper for Phys Rev B.  

Wearing: t-shirt by Comme de Garcons, cashmere jumper by Marks and Spencer, printed hoodie by Christopher Kane, leather jacket by Firetrap, kilt in MacGregor hunting tartan, Yohji Yamamoto kilt pin, thermal leggings by Marks and Spencer, boots by Kurt Geiger. Dodgy manicure - Alexxsia's own. 

xxx

Duck

Photography by Alexxsia and Charlie.

Eatin'

I was seriously impressed by the standard of the food and drink in Antwerp so I felt this food-porn post a necessity. Unlike my recent trip to Madrid where we really had to hunt to find something delicious to eat, every single restaurant we walked into in Antwerp had something good on offer (even a café near the train station turned out to have the best goats cheese salad rather than the Wetherspoons fare we were expecting). I think I must just be a Northern soul. Apart from Italy, I always discover my favourite restaurants in Scandinavia, Germany and the Benelux.

On the first day we had a quick snack and beer in Zoro where we were reminded just how good Belgian fries and mayonnaise could be. I don't know what they put in that mayonnaise but the effect is like crack cocaine. These accompanied my fantastically light quiche and the others' unusual sandwich combinations (chicken+ham+prawns+egg??). Beer became a theme for the rest of the trip and we attempted to taste all the varieties between us over the next three days. Another theme that started at Zoro was requesting the free wifi password – every restaurant had one!

We found the Brasserie Van Loock around the corner from our hotel, on Dageraadsplaats. Apparently the square is a favourite of local artists and celebrities and, although the clientèle seemed rather more mundane when we were there, I could see why. The salads and fresh fish dishes of the day were surprisingly yummy given the surroundings. The mayo was out of this world.

Our other favourite find was the restaurant inside Renaissance, a fashion store adjoining the Antwerp Modemuseum. The décor of bright white walls, huge windows and simple planting was chic and exactly what I'd wanted for my birthday lunch. The menu has an Italian theme (I had the melanzana) but with Belgian classics thrown in for good measure. I couldn't get enough of the crème of asparagus soup, while Charlie quickly became a crème brûlée addict. It's also the best spot in town for people watching, or being watched yourself.

After last night's humongous meal at Cecconi's with my family (a great event for a sad occasion), I have no idea how I can even stomach looking at these photos...

Skirtin'

I was led to believe that Antwerp was the chicest city in Europe – somewhat like Stockholm, but with the commercial tang of Acne replaced by severe Margiela austerity. I expected directional hair cuts, open minds and understated peplums. Strangely, Antwerp didn't quite live up to my expectations. There are some incredible shops (RA, Dries, Renaissance, Labels Inc.) and some of the best fashion labels stem from here (Ann, Dries, Raf), yet most people look decidedly ordinary. I guess I shouldn't expect so much – in many respects it's just a normal town – but I felt the streetstyle and attitudes in London are probably more progressive. The moral of this tale: beware of walking the streets of Antwerp as a man-in-kilt (/skirt), even if it is one you just bought from the A.F. Vandevorst sample sale.  Looks can kill.   

Plantin' in Antwerpen

Well, I just got back from my birthday trip to Antwerp and what an experience it was... I must thank the Hotel Sir Plantin for hosting us and Eurostar for making the journey that little bit more affordable, although my positive feelings were tempered somewhat by the ridiculous customs fiasco at the St Pancras end. I'd never been to the stock sales before but Charlie and Lexxi guided me through them like pros. We hit up Ann Demeulemeester, AF Vandervorst, Dries van Noten, RA and then, of course, the incredible one-off Raf Simons archive sale. Raf had pieces going back to the nineties – I spotted several editors and models who had made the trip from Paris for this sale alone! Lovely to bump into Sarah Hay again, laden as she was with all the menswear she could afford. Expect some bumper travel/outfit/HAUL posts to follow but this weekend is all about catching up on the work I missed mid-week. Back to the grindstone. 

Fairy Queen with Maria Nilsdotter

I'm starting to become slightly obsessed with Swedish jewellery designer, Maria Nilsdotter.  Although a graduate of London's CSM, Maria now has a workshop and boutique in Stockholm's gamla stan catering to chic Scandinavians with pieces often inspired by the darker side of nature.  Her statement headpieces, like this feathered tiara, keep finding their way into every editorial I catch glimpse of - even Madonna used them for her backing dancers at the Superbowl half time show.  And now that she's available at Browns in London, I'm not sure how I can avoid her any longer...  My only question: why hasn't Liberty bought up the whole collection yet?!

I told Nisha that the inspiration behind this photo was some kind of Shakespearean 'Fairy King'.  "'Fairy Queen', more like", was Nisha's reasoned response.  Standing on our balcony in front of the neighbours in a floaty and semi-transparent silk crepe dress, she probably had a point.   

Wearing: feathered headpiece by Maria Nilsdotter, dress by Alexander Wang and fur scarf by Liberty London.  

xxx

Duck

P.S. I hope some of you will be sooo happy that I'm back to dressing like a laydee!

Wolf & Badger hits Dover Street

It's true! Early tomorrow morning I'll be on the Eurostar to Antwerp for a whistlestop shopping trip round the stock sales that happen at this time every year.  Ann Demeulemeester, Raf Simons, RA, Dries van Noten - no Belgian designer will be safe on my discount birthday shopping spree (turning 21 again on Thursday).  While absolutely fabulous, this does mean, however, that I am going to miss the Dover Street launch of everybody's favourite West London young designer emporium Wolf and Badger.  So it was pretty damn lucky that I happened to walk straight into the soft launch on my way to Dover Street Market with Brooke on Saturday.  Thank goodness I had my camera in my handbag...

Just like its Westbourne Grove cousin, the Dover Street store is filled with womenswear, menswear and pieces for the home from some of the most exciting young designers showing in London.  Commensurate with their even classier surroundings (this is the street that houses John Rocha, Acne, APC and Vanessa Bruno as well as the obvious DSM), the Wolf and Badger boys have added winners of the prestigious NewGen sponsorship to the mix.  And with a separate gallery space below, I'm pretty sure this might become the new 'IT' venue for private parties in Mayfair. 

Dressed for Delaunay

Every month or so Brooke and I pick a different restaurant to go for a weekend brunch.  Whether we go for cheap and cheerful at The Diner or upmarket and expensive in one of the delis on Westbourne Grove, we always end up spending a fortune as Bloody Marys lead into bottles of wine which lend themselves to a long afternoon shopping trip.  This weekend we decided enough was enough and we might as well go all out from the get-go, so we booked our brunch at The Delaunay, the Aldwych sister restaurant to The Wolseley.  And if we were going somewhere fancy to stuff our faces, we might as well dress for the occasion...

I really love this Won hundred t-shirt from the AW collection kindly lent to me by the ladies of Varg.  The softly marled mustard yellow is fresh and summery (there was a hint of sunshine when I left Fort Duck), and the rolled up sleeves give it that ironic hipster edge which comes across rather James Dean-y when paired with my slicked back hair.  It also went rather nicely with these SS wool trousers by Baartmans and Siegel, a relatively new brand you might be seeing a little bit more of on here in the next week or so.  Alright, so I'm still going through a 'menswear' phase, but at least it's totes chic, n'est-ce pas?

Anyway, if you really can't stand to look at any more photos of me dressed like a man, focus on the delicious food from The Delaunay.  My spiced-aubergine stuffed pepper was delicious if a little light for the main meal of the day, but the coupe Seville, with blood orange sorbet, oranges, candied orange and tuile, completely finished me off (and matched my outfit, score). 

Misplaced apostrophe

This week I've basically been living in this sweatshirt I was given by new(ish) Danish street wear brand Rascals'.  Before you ask, I'm really not quite sure what the apostrophe signifies.  Do the clothes belong to 'The Rascals', a new Scandinavian band perhaps?  Is it just a misplaced greengrocer's apostrophe?  Does the punctuation mark hold some special significance in the Danish language?  Help me out here people...

In any case, it's comfy - good, because I've spent most of the week hauled up in my bedroom trying to get some very frustrating computer code to work and sniffling out the remainder of my cold - and colourful, which means I feel like I'm letting a little bit of the summer sunshine into my life.  If the weather reports are to be believed, this might be the only sun I'll be seeing this side of The Channel so I'll take it where I can get it.   

I swear my face only looks this chipmunky when the flatmate takes my photos!  

Wearing: sweatshirt by Rascals, sunglasses by Kaneko x Nonnative, backpack by Comme des Garcons, friendship bracelet by LN-CC.  

xxx

Duck

Better than Fashion Week

OK, so Madrid during Easter week is waaay better than fashion week.  It's the ultimate streetstyle location - even hungover fashion students wouldn't dare dress up like the KKK (although we wouldn't put it past Prince Harry or his grandpa).  At fashion week you'd be lucky to spot one or maybe two representatives of A Shaded View on Fashion sweeping past you in Diane's black robes on their way to the front row.  In Madrid, an entire army of Diane Pernet look-a-likes descends on the city.  If the street catwalks are to be believed, ankle chains are going to be making a big come-back for AW 12.  If only the London PRs would get on it and gift us some solid white chocolate KKKers in our goody bags.  Mine even came with a fully functioning candle staff. 

In all seriousness, I'm slightly worried how attracted I was to a lot of the priests solemnly marching around town.  Some were even hotter than the soldiers in their skin-tight breaches...