Though, unlike Augustus, my downfall will probably come about due to a lack of restraint when faced with the contents of an unexpected care package containing various Mexican, Chinese, and Malaysian candies...amongst others...Salsaghetti...mini wafers with goat milk candy...watermelon lollipops with chili...Crazy Balls...and Durian candy. As far as the later, I've wanted to try the durian fruit for a while now...having heard it described as both "a rich custard highly flavoured with almonds" and, in the words of travel and food writer Richard Sterling, a fruit whose "...odor is best described as pig-shit, turpentine and onions, garnished with a gym sock. It can be smelled from yards away. Despite its great local popularity, the raw fruit is forbidden from some establishments such as hotels, subways and airports, including public transportation in Southeast Asia". Best case scenario...it will be a unique, dense, sweet sensation...worst...the Greta Garbo of candies...though it may be less a case of "I want to be alone" than "no one will come near me"...

Either way, thank you S, this is one of the nicest surprise gifts I've received in quite some time...

Another day...another rant. Yesterday Prada...today it's little sister...it may seem like I have some kind of family vendetta going...but that's really not the case. It's just that...when Net-a-Porter's cunning little "Hebden, what's new for you" email hits my inbox...and I see an a-line corduroy skirt (one of those useful though not very thrilling wardrobe basics)...I should not click through and discover that the price tag is $520.

Surely the fact that there are people out there to whom this is...I'm not going to say 'bargain', let's just say people who don't wince when they contemplate making the purchase...must be one of those apocalyptic signs that the world will end in 2012.

Ankle socks with heels? Yep...fine...with you in theory...sense of balance and not having the colt-ish pins required to pull off the look withstanding. Ankle-wrapped slides with white ankle socks...like those from Prada's 2011 resort collection?

Just...no. I'm getting a One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest...I've just been given out-patient status...I'm not crazy, I just like setting fire to coffee tables...vibe. Combine that with a trailing white fur...arm full of bangles...and "this is going to look good on exactly 2% of the population" brightly colored, wide, elasticized belt...and the men in white coats can surely only be two steps behind...

The only problem with making firm, declarative statements is that unless you are also strong-willed and single-minded (i.e. someone other than me) you end up having to back-pedal a little. So, when I recklessly declared that "I am not a sandals girl" I should...in actuality...have probably added a proviso or two along the way...

The amended, and about as firm as a bowl of jello, statement reads "I'm not a sandals girl except...when they have enough straps to ensure that my feet will actually stay inside the shoes (thereby alleviating the constant dread that self and shoe will part company at some point during the day)...that the aforementioned straps are heavily embellished with burnished gold sequins...that there's a satisfyingly chunky zip at the heel...and that they're on sale"...because, should all those criteria be met, it turns out that I am a sandal girl after all.

You know you're a nerd (or, at the very least, have geek-ish tendencies) when you come across Donkey Kong and Super Mario Bros wall decals...and, despite the fact that they go with nothing in your apartment...and would be about as of out-of-place as an icicle in a sauna...you spend a few delirious moments contemplating whereabouts you could display them in all their pixel-y glory...

As I get ready to watch England play Germany in the World Cup I'm almost forced to inquire where everyone stands on the idea of 'women wearing sporting jerseys for teams with male players'...to clarify, I'm not talking about wearing a Nike shirt to go to the gym or a hockey shirt to sleep in...but, rather, showing your support for your team by wearing a) a small size of the men's jersey, b) buying the women's fit of the same, or c) buying the baby blue or pink (because they're always baby blue or pink because that's what we girls wear, right?) ladies shirt.

Personally, I can't do it. I'll pledge my team allegiance with a scarf, a beer glass, or a particularly fruity chant but not a shirt...which the British side of my mind firmly classes as chav-y...a slightly bizarre piece of thinking given that I'm perfectly willing to wear a St George's Cross flag as scarf/cape for the morning.

Time for another useful (exclamation...question mark) post...it's like a riddle "when does the practical become the covetable?" It can happen, as previously mentioned, with Hermès bracelets...it also happens when you take a length of durable water repellent fabric and enough drawstrings and toggles to strike envy into the heart of even the most pious boy scout and use them to create a dress whose ruching has the potential to be decidedly Baroque (in a muted way). I say 'potential' because all those drawstrings allow the wearer to adjust the length (and amount of swagging).

So...in a monsoon you can go long and plain for maximum rain protection...whilst in milder times short and swag-gy is a possibility.

Part of a collaboration between Slow and Steady Wins the Race and Portland's Stand Up Comedy...the range includes ponchos and shoes and is currently (and, as someone who's been diligently checking their site on a weekly basis waiting for it to happen, may I say finally) on sale. Thereby providing a spot of sunshine amidst all the rain we've been experiencing lately...

There's a scene...near to the beginning of the 60's spy classic, Charade...when Audrey Hepburn's character returns to her luxurious Parisian apartment, Vuitton luggage in tow, and discovers that everything is gone. The cupboards are, quite literally, bare...as are the walls, floors, and every other aspect of the interior landscape. Yet there she stands...impeccably dressed amidst the destruction...looking charmingly elegant, if a little confused.

I mention this because I could think of very little else when I gazed at the pictures of Celine's 2011 resort collection. There was the peeling paint...the bare, empty rooms...and the relentlessly chic young woman pacing the parquet.

There was even a prospective, and fittingly distressed, DIY consideration...in the shape of what can only be termed a tea towel bag...at least, by me, as I'm one of the few people who refuses to use a dishwasher and chooses to hand dry my pots and pans instead. The mind (rather inelegantly, I'll admit) boggles at what the original will cost when it appears on the shelves of Barneys or some similar abode...especially given that rather luxe dish towels can usually be found for under ten dollars...

You only really appreciate how well made something is when it takes several days...comprised in equal quantities of patience, swearing, and a high degree of hand to eye coordination...to take it apart.

When Mr. Heb grew tired of a rather snazzy, and subtly patriotic, shirt from the Gap I knew that I wanted to do something with the fabric. "This will be easy" said my (obviously delusional) inner voice...lulling me into a false sense of security..."you can unpick those seams in seconds". All I can say, now that the dust has cleared and I am nearly cross-eyed from staring at yards of white stitching is "HA!"...possibly even an "Oh yeah? Says you!"...and definitely a "You stinking little liar!"

For the shirt didn't just have single seams...or double seams...oh, no sir...those suckers were three deep. Sewn and re-sewn...so that the gentleman about town could rest safe in the knowledge that nothing short of an explosion would cause the disintegration of his shirting.

Not being one to admit defeat...at least not when my foe is a cotton shirt...I persevered...and ended up with a decent amount of use able fabric. The first project was an (embarrassingly easy) cushion cover...after the battle of destruction I needed simplicity when it came to construction...but I still have a fair amount left for some side projects. One thing is certain though...I will never...on any account...underestimate the quality of Gap's clothing again...

It's a little difficult to type the words "useful" and "Hermès" in the same sentence...it's like suggesting that a seven course dinner is a "snack"...or that Buckingham Palace is a "quaint little pied-à-terre". Be that as it may, I do honestly think that their Jumbo hook bracelet (aka the birthday gift) is "useful"...in that the leather and gold will work with almost anything...and the classic design is more "understated luxe" than "ostentatious bling". Of course, I could be a little biased on this one...

This summer I seem to be besotted by the classics...cotton...linen...leather...things that have a timeless quality and will, barring mishaps or stain-related incidents involving sunscreen or Slurpees, see me through many summers to come. The most recent items to catch my eye in this category are these French market baskets.

Practical...sturdy...kind to the planet...and so astoundingly 'right' that they'd invest a boring run to the store for some toothpaste with the charm of a stroll through a street market in the south of France...okay, that's maybe going a little too far...but you get the point...

A little bit of wishful/aspirational thinking in my vintage card selection this year...but, if you're not allowed a liberal dash of artistic license on your birthday, when are you?

I know that I've previously discussed my love for Cost Plus World Market...probably to the intense irritation of those of you who live nowhere near one of their stores...but I can't help it. Simply put, it's a wonderland...I totter in looking for a British candy bar or a jar of curry sauce (though, truth be told, it's generally the former)...and I end up back at the cash register with my hands full of all manner of (generally inexpensive and therefore non-guilt inducing) things in addition.

Today's candy run led to the purchase of this (I'm sorry, much as I hate the term I can't think of anything else) 'ethnic' sunglasses case. Some people lose sunglasses...I lose the cases and can never find replacements that I like...this case will be perfect for lugging around my sunglasses this summer (assuming that I can keep it in sight that long).

And...because the walk from candy aisle...to sunglass aisle...to cash register took me past the jewelery display...a pair of 'gold' and 'turquoise' hoop earrings that look a darned site more expensive than their $12.99 price tag implies.

This little piggy cried "Wee! Wee! Wee!" all the way home

"Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I knew
There was milk and toast and honey and a bowl of oranges, too.
And the sun poured in like butterscotch and stuck to all my senses."

- Joni Mitchell

Considering that the thermometer is perilously close to "no boots unless the entire day will be spent in an air-conditioned environment" point...something that I discovered after an ill-advised stroll in ankle boots the other day...it's a bad time to be (theoretical) boot shopping. On the one hand, there's the undeniable charm of Balenciaga's rumpled, brogue-ish, Chelsea boots...on the other, there's the fact that just looking at them makes me perspire (because mother said that 'ladies' never sweat...a fact that I disclose in a completely tongue-in-cheek way).

I removed the second line of Nietzsche's quote as it discusses the "irrefutable errors of mankind"...and, as I'm currently gazing at images of Balenciaga's 2011 resort collection I don't want to think in terms of errors. A floral pantsuit destined to be worn by the very thin, very brave, or the small number of souls who decided to save the pennies they would have spent on mirrors and buy Balenciaga instead...maybe...but actual errors...no.

Of particular interest...from a personal, inspiration standpoint as opposed to an actual "oh, look at this bucket of cash...I think I'll go shopping" one...are the demure, yet transparent, shirt dress...and the ladylike, yet exuberant, blouse and floral skirt combo. Both have that 'groomed yet funky' appeal which is so irritatingly difficult to attain...

Considering the amount of rain that's been falling recently it's no wonder that my thoughts are a little greige...the skies are grey...there's more mud than grass in certain areas of the park...and any light colored, summer-y fabrics which have wormed their way into my closet (against my better judgment) are in danger of becoming distinctly soiled. No wonder that shades of greige's bag caught my eye...the canvas and white leather says "summer"...the fact that the canvas is black says "I know that I'm a stain magnet and am trying my best to be seasonal yet cautious".

I'm generally wary when scents are described by their makers as "surprising"...you might want to be entranced or intrigued by a scent...but when was the last time you wanted to be surprised by one? For once, not even the skull on the packaging can convince me that a combination of black tea, anise, basil and citrus will be surprising in a good way...