The devil is said to reside in detail.
I certainly can’t speak for him – sinner, though I may be – but have always preferred to think that beauty, not ‘ol Beelzebub, is to be found within the sartorial minutiae.
Let’s start with an apology, shall we?
Sporadic posting is becoming my trademark and, for that, I am very sorry. I could boast that such neglect results from a hedonistic three-week ‘Sodom and Gomorrah’ birthday celebration, but all would be lies.
The truth, altogether less glamorously, is that the nine-to-five has been kicking my ass. A long day spent reading, and editing, the words of others is one which leaves few of my own.
Quite apart from fatigue – and being worked to the bone for pittance – there is the troubling matter of hypocrisy. How can a fashion blog be authored by one who has forgotten to dress?
Despite being a ‘Winter Girl’ – who drifts, like a moth to the ever seductive flame, to lust over winter coats on Net-a-Porter during the inferno of summer – I still find this season the most challenging.
Rain? I take puddles in my stride. Wind? I’m firing on all pistons albeit with bad hair. But snow?
Down comes the white stuff and my sartorial wits freeze.
It is times such as these that streetstyle blogs – Vanessa Jackman, Hanneli, Stockholm Streetstyle and Mr Newton, to name but four – inspire me to wear something other than Long Johns, Hunter wellingtons and an electric blanket.
Curative to a bad case of ‘Style Boondocks’ as Lemsip is to flu, I plan to slavishly emulate their offerings – like the copiest of all copycats – and be returned to fashion and blogging toot sweet.
So there we have it.
An amuse bouche of a blog post. A tastebud tickle of adjectives until time, and workload, permit more. And more there will be…
Even if it does require handing in my resignation at the office!