When did I turn into a cynical feminist?...

 Source: leeraloo.wordpress.com

'...as women have climbed ever higher, men have been falling behind. We've arrived at the top of the staircase, finally ready to start our lives, only to discover a cavernous room at the tail end of a party, most of the men gone already, some having never shown up – and those who remain are leering by the cheese table, or are, you know, the ones you don't want to go out with.' (Kate Bolick: why marriage is a declining option for modern women, The Observer, Nov 2011)

Today I woke up feeling annoyed. Not lonely, not sad, not victimising myself, just annoyed. I suddenly realised it was terribly unfair for a girl like me, with all the qualities that one could possibly want (and a few flaws which only make me more charming, of course), to be alone. Alone for so many years, despite all the efforts, all the positivity, all the trying and all the dating I have possibly invested in being able to share my life with someone. I think I may have been more succesful if I planned to kill a person than to find someone to love and share my life with. But that's not the most annoying thing about it. The most annoying thing is that I have grown as a person, I became perfectly capable of dealing with my emotions, I matured in a way that only rare wines can, while all the men around me have remained the same, or in some cases even regressed.

First of all, let's all shed a tear for all the men that had their hearts broken... Get over yourselves! I have had my heart broken more times than I can possibly remember and, still, I pieced it back together and went back into the world with more hope than ever before. Do not talk to me about not wanting to get hurt. Talk to a professional!

Secondly, let's all feel supportive of the guy that hasn't learned that manners can be very useful in society. Such as: 'It was nice seeing you!', 'Thanks for a lovely evening' and 'I don't know what's gotten into me to kiss you when I have baggage to sort out and, hey, I am not even sure I can talk about it so I am just going to leave and never talk to you again!". Even that would be better than nothing.

What I find really annoying is that I get it. I get exactly what's going to happen with every single guy I meet. There is no surprise, no expectation, no mistery. I can count on each and every one of them to blow it. Some sooner than others but the result is always the same. And it hurts me that I even reached this conclusion because I realised today that I turned into a cynical feminist. I swear I didn't mean to...but I did. And I feel sorry already for that poor sucker with the best intentions who won't even know what hit him just because he is a man... Shame.

To say or not to say...

Source: http://www.diabolika.posterous.com/

Him: 'I'm still not over my ex. Don't think I am ready to see anyone at the moment'

You (Trying to be really cool and pretend not to care, because nobody likes a hysterical woman, right!?): 'No worries. I totally understand...'

What you really want to say: 'You inconsiderate prick! Winding me up with hundreds of explicit text messages that were supposed to lead somewhere, wasting my precious time only for you to realise you are so vulnerable and don't want to get hurt!! What about me, you moron? Did you think that maybe I have feelings too???!

Him: ......................... (Total silence after having chased you around to go on a date and you finally agreed)

You: ......................... (Total silence because you don't want to seem weak but it's eating you inside)

What you really want to say: 'WTF!!?'

Him: 'I just didn't feel there was a spark...Sorry.'

You: 'Fair enough. Nice to meet you anyway.'

What you really want to say: 'And when were you going to tell me that, you dick? Before or after you went missing? In fact, thanks a lot for not bothering to tell me. I sooooo love going on dates and not hearing back!'

Him: 'I am actually seeing someone at the moment and it wouldn't be fair on you.'

You: 'Thanks, I appreciate your honesty.'

What you really want to say: 'And you went out with me because...?'

You: 'Are you not having a good time?'

Him: 'No, no I do. Well, maybe not the best night i've ever had...'

You: 'Let's try to make the most of it then, shall we?'

What you really want to say: 'Prick!' and leave

To say or not to say... This is the question... When is it a good idea to say what you really think?

I mean, the result is just the same isn't it. Whether you say anything or not it doesn't change the fact that many of these people do not consider the fact that their actions have consequences and that yes, they may affect you. After all, you are a human being. You do have feelings. Feelings that need not be repressed...

Call me crazy but I've been saying what I think for a while now. It hasn't necessarily changed the situation to my advantage, nor did it suddenly made the other person realise how inconsiderate they were and apologise so I felt better. None of that crap. Some even became really defensive and had a go at me.

You'd think people should be capable of realising that any feed-back is valuable feed-back and that if sometimes you project a certain image, intentionally or not, and get comments about it, it means that perhaps you can adjust your attitude to improve that image. No need to take things personally. I like feed-back, I love becoming better, be a better me. I wouldn't know how to do that if I didn't listen to people telling me what they felt about me. I think it's only fair I should do the same. But I don't cease to be amazed by how many people out there are so full of themselves and take any criticism as a personal offense.

Not sure if it makes me feel better telling someone that their behaviour hurt me and that it really wasn't cool. I suppose it does, because it is the truth and it helps expressing feelings into words so you can then let go of them. The other person may even be evolved enough to take it as positive criticism. Yes, it may not be as dignifying as ignoring the situation and leaving the scene in solemn glory. But until I am capable emotionally to let go of a situation without feeling the need to express my anger or my frustration I will continue to do so. To say, I say!

When in Goa

I clearly haven't been on holiday for a long time. It's taken me about 2 days to get over the home sickness if anyone can believe. I organically missed London and my life balance that I've finally managed to obtain. And here I was in India, in a tropical paradise, not being able to sleep at night...
I've clearly forgotten how it is being away learning to trust a new environment. Everything seemed threathening and the usual London background noise that I've grown so accustomed to suddenly has been replaced with scary bird cries, dogs howling at the moon and helicopters (random, I know!). All these in a wet and mucky night where mosquitoes and strange night creatures rule.
We are in Patnem in South Goa, an area known for being the quieter sister of North Goa. It's also the beginning of the season when shacks are still being built and the beach looks almost deserted. It takes time to adjust to this quiteness, it's almost like a rehab retreat. It took us a couple of days to discover Palolem beach and realize that relative civilisation was in fact only about 10 minutes away.
It's nice though. Probably the best time to come. Prices are still lower and there are very few rowdy people to spoil your mood.
What I really like about this part of the world is that people are not just nice, they're absolutely hillarious. Shopkeepers are pushy and yet so funny that you're happy to buy what they're selling, take their picture and learn their names. The tuk tuk drivers are having a laugh when they see how scared you are that they might run over the cow parked in the middle of the street. The yoga teacher is happy to do some free meditation as it helps him practice too. And the 'resort' people are all running inside the bungalow to catch the frog that scared the pants out of me when I was in the shower. It's the little things that suddenly made me feel like home in Goa. And now I can sleep well and wake up early tomorow morning for my yoga class and who knows what else tomorrow brings...

My life in coffee cups

The Holiday Coffee

Italian coffee outside Spanish Steps in Rome

The Week-End Cofee

Coffee at Le Pain Quotidien at Borough Market

The Everyday Day Coffee

Really bad coffee at my desk..

Happiness

Happy to say I have a new mindset and I find myself these days living in a state of an almost permanent beatitude and enjoyment. As if I was permanently high without the next day headaches and lows.

I confess it didn’t happen overnight - it took roughly about a couple of years of intense training of the mind – but I am amazed at how one day it simply just took off and I am now blissfully enjoying the benefits of having a ‘spotless’ mind without having do anything about it but rejoice.

I have been living all my life in a self built cage and raged around about the limits of my humanity, about how much I wanted to achieve in my lifetime and how little I was given to fight with, about how other people have more than me, about how I can’t find love and how I am the ugliest and fattest girl on the face of the Earth etc etc. You name it and I would have complained about it. Loving to hate is an incredibly attractive feeling which I grew terribly accustomed to…Because complaining was easy, it justified my being miserable.

And aren’t we miserable perhaps because that’s what we have been trained to do all our lives? How we’ve been taught to dream about achieving things and suffering when we fail to do it within a certain timeframe, about how we SHOULD look, feel, talk, think, exist, but we always somehow fall short?...

Not sure about you, but I grew up with a sense that tragedy was waiting for me just around the corner and when I least expected it would come and suck me into a deep black hole and if only I kept looking out for it, being constantly alert and aware that it might happen any minute, I could at least congratulate myself that I saw it coming when it did indeed occur (not occurring wasn’t a valid possibility in my mind).

Until one day when you wake up feeling you’ve had too much to eat the same dish and decide to make a change. When that happened to me, I started reading a lot of self-help books and although, at first, they all sounded like unrealistic babble, one day I stopped thinking ‘this is not what real life is about’ and started feeling. I still think a lot of them are written in a metaphoric/childlike way that don’t always resonate with my logic, but having forced myself through various I did find that I could extract the main ideas and apply them to my own life. You’ll never find the exact same situations to exercise your new found inner skills, but extrapolation is a powerful tool. The moment you start feeling the effects of the positive mentality on your own life, you bring it to the next level and good things just start happening.

When I say that I don’t mean I suddenly became filthy rich, found a gorgeous man to whisk me away to a tropical paradise and marry me, of course, wrote a book, won a Booker prize and successfully launched my own styling business. Although now I am convinced all of the above WILL happen one day because I decided they will, I don’t live my life waiting for the day when I will finally start living. I am happy right now because I am living right now and enjoying the ‘right now’. Whether it’s sunny day or a cold and rainy day, I stopped judging, I just acknowledge what is and enjoy what I can from the ‘what is’.  It works miracles…

I learned a very important lesson: happiness, as much as unhappiness, is a matter of habit. And I am grateful I forced myself into the habit of being happy.

But as I was writing this, I received the ‘bad’ news that my Indian visa application was returned and that I had to re-apply within only two weeks to my departure (whoever tried getting an Indian visa, and especially as a non-UK citizen, knows what a pain in the backside this process is!). Naturally I got very annoyed and almost been put off going at all, however I decided that the fact that my application was retuned is still just a fact and that it is up to me if I decide that I ought to get upset and make a big deal out of it or just acknowledge it for what it is and just go down there again and re-apply. I decided for the latter and within minutes my whole body relaxed and I felt incredibly calm. It's common knowledge that there are things in life outside of our control and influence but knowing that indeed I have the power over what I feel about it, does indeed make me carry on this happy feeling day, after day, after day....


And as Abraham Lincoln said: 'Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.'

The day my ass was grabbed twice

The most notable thing about last Saturday is that my behind received a lot of unwanted attention.

Setting no 1: a young couple - very close friends of mine, who recently bought a house and renovated it completely (with a modest styling contribution from myself) - were hosting a housewarming party/barbeque where I was the only unmarried lady. As to be expected, a compact group of children were playing in the background making the usual noises sometimes covered by shrills.

The day was lovely and I was getting drunk on champaigne. Rather than being tedious, I was feeling great and slowly slowly let my guard down, being my usual loud self.  Almost unnoticed at first, one of the guests, a dad to be more precise although not sure where the respective mum was as I never asked, started flirting with me quite obviously and soon I started to feel slightly uncomfortable. Despite my habit, I decided to play with the children and - believe it or not! - I found that jumping around, going in circles holding hands until one falls, screaming and picking them up to the sky can be incredibly therapeutic. I was having a lot of fun until the dad came sniffing around like a wolf catching the scent of pray and asked me if I didn't mind giving him a tour of the house. Not wanting to be outraged by something that was yet unconclusive, I agreed and started walking up the stairs when suddenly I felt his hand on my behind. I turned around and said: 'And what exactly is that supposed to mean?' only for him to answer sheepishly 'I thought it was the bannister!' Well, I never thought my ass looked like the bannister!

Setting no 2: the same day, somewhere in club in Shoreditch. The usual Saturday night crowd, loads of drunken kids and very loud music. I went out for a fag break and started up a random conversation with a very loud Aussie who just descended into town. I guess I have the misleading habit of being ironic in a subtle way, as I think he took my irony for interest in hitting it off and became brave enough to grab my ass. 'Honestly?' I said, 'what was that for?' 'That's because you didn't want to be in the picture' (his friend had just taken a snap and I had covered half of my face with my hand). 'I have no desire for my face to appear all over Facebook on people I harldy know profiles, if you really must know' I said and turned around. A few seconds later I felt another touch of my bum. 'And what exactly are you trying to achieve with this?' I asked exasperated! 'Nothing, speak to you later!' and he disappeared.

After last Saturday, I have only two things to say: 1) my intense going to gym must have paid off!; 2) I really wonder why do men feel the need to grab your ass and can't even explain why?...


Other than that, a lovely autumn day with falling leaves and sunny spells.

Life in a date free world

Life in a date free world is better than I ever thought it would be. It's almost as if, as often New Age philosophy claims, when you stop resisting a certain situation, the very same thing that frustrated you in the past, just disolves before your eyes.

I don't remember the last time I felt so carefree and so pleased with my life. Having no romantic expectations whatsoever definitely really pays off. No more a la Bridget Jones nightmares in the middle of the night of me as an old spinster, devoured by Alsacians.

I hardly ever check my phone anymore because, hey, there's no guy I am anxiously waiting for a text from, I have time for my friends, I don't do hangovers and I am enjoying my Power Plates sessions more than I used to enjoy a good Mojito and a cigarette on a hot summer night. It's pure bliss.

In fact, I do believe that things happen in a certain way to stear our mentality onto the right direction and perhaps I did have to reach dating bottom to finally get to this conclusion: that nobody can ever give you what you can't give yourself!

I find it increasingly interesting though how many people are fighting the same demons. I thought I may well be the only unlucky girl in the world that has to go through awful romantic situations while the world around me rejoices in honeymoons, houses in the country and dogs, children with embarassing names and plump cheeks, engagement rings and Facebook relationship status updates. But it turns out that there are many like me. Some still trying hard until it kills them, others accepting their shelf life, other just publicly laughing about it on Bad Date.com. Even Stylist featured a few pieces on the subject, sign that it is indeed becoming a generalised issue and, perhaps unfortunately, a bit of a norm...

I recently came across this hilarious blog of a really cool girl who is writing about her internet dating experiences. Check it out, it's brilliant: The Racontourist!
I must say I admire her enthusiasm but it may very well be due to the fact that she is still only 25. I am on my way to become a 32 year old with a toned bottom and a bag full of 'I can't be bothered anymore'. That is because I really can't be. I've done it already, I embraced the possibilities of Internet dating, pub flirting, club pulling, I tried every weapon in my arsenal until I ran out of amunition. And you know what, I am truly glad I did. So I can spend my time on better things!

Like going to the gym and taking pleasure in it rather for than doing it because it will make me look better for others (it's because I want to like myself!), looking in the mirror and not seeing myself as someone who has failed to comply with the rules of society but as someone who has succeeded in surpassing them, enjoying every day come rain or shine, and being able to look at a handsome guy and think 'So what!'

Can't get better than that? ;)

Why not colour?

I have a problem with colour. Or to be more precise with the lack of it...

Despite the growing trend of bold colours in fashion this year, I still sense some kind of apathy in people when it comes to embracing colour in their everyday look. I remember noticing one day at work that there were a few people in the kitchen all wearing black from head to toes, including myself. I found that depressing. Why is it that people find no courage in introducing colour in their wardrobes, that they always play it safe? It's boring... Just look around on the tube and count how many people are wearing colourful clothes. Look in your own closet and take out all the coloured items you have. Let me guess: not many...

Why is that? Well, for one - and this is one of the most frustrating thing - colour is not readily available. High street brands have a remarkable tendency to only market a limited set of colours each season, with grey and black being promoted almost exclusively by popular brands such as All Saints. I am also one of those people who are a bit obstinate against wearing uber fashionable items (including colours) as I have an egoistic intention of distinguishing myself a bit from what's too 'in', so I generally avoid the hype colour of the season, unless it's a neutral. Sometimes I give in though, especially if it's an item of clothing/colour I've always loved and which becomes popular and available to buy. I wish I could make my own clothes though... It would make my life so much easier.

Anyway, going back to colour. It's widely known that each colour of the spectrum has a certain psychological association, meaning, feeling about it. For instance blue has been know to have a calming and cooling effect and aid intuition, green is the symbol of renewal and harmony, yellow symbolises optimism, orange stands for happiness and social interaction, purple is a deeeply spiritual colour and red stands for life, energy, enthusiasm etc. We are all different people and we all have a different message for the world around us but I wonder why do we all keep choosing to say the same thing over and over again? Black, grey, brown, black, white, black, black, black, grey, brown...

In a world where colour is abundant (nature is known to have a magnificent display), we, busy people of the 21st century, still shy away from it...

But perhaps in the human world, when it comes to colour, it's like everything in life. Some people prefer a background role and they tend to pick neutrals to camouflage themselves in the environment, while others are not afraid to show off a bit, like Christina Hendricks in Mad Men. I am not sure which one of them I am... Colour still quite scares me... All these years of living in the background I guess...

Dating myself

I am one of those people who's been on lots of dates. Most of them bad dates. As dates tend to be. Bad...

I am aware that the planet is full of individuals that never had to go through the 'experience' (it's a word I decided to use after intense deliberation) of dating: people who through some kind of miracle meet people without having to date, or link one relationship to another seamlessly and effortlessly as if it's the world's easiest thing to do. I've not been one of these lucky people. I've always felt like I had to struggle to get into a relationship. As if I had a bloody civic duty to make it happen...

Ever since I became old enough to be interested in boys, I got it into my head that I wasn't attractive enough so I had to make myself more appealing. This slowly developed into a habitual reaction of over-functioning in the presence of a man I was interested in and brought along rejection. And with every rejection I tried even harder. I've been a prisoner of a vicious circle I have been working hard at creating myself for years.

Countless bad dates and the same empty feeling later, until one day when it all became simple and clear due to the world's worst hangover.

It all culminated with the date where the guy took me to a strip club, suggested renting a hotel room and, after I refused, told me I've got issues. And that was just after the guy who didn't bother to let me know he didn't feel the spark. And he followed the guy who interviewed me at Starbucks over a mug of peppermint tea and concluded the date by telling me he would have a think and let me know. And then there were the no showers, the late cancellers, the 'let's just say I'm not having the best night of my life 'guys and of course the time wasters.

But I took it all in with a smile on my face and just tried again, with boundless enthusiasm. Until the most recent fiasco which was followed by an intense and unbearable hangover. That hangover must have been a divine intervention as it sort of brought me back to reality. The moment I managed to sleep off that horrendous feeling, I decided I will no longer date anyone but myself. Simply because time spent with myself it's always time well spent and because I seem to be the only one who treats me the way I deserve. And since so far dating hasn't brought me anything but hangovers and a general feeling of self loathing, I put together an emergency recovery plan which includes weekly alcohol intake counting, regular exercising and healthy eating.

I've been doing that for almost two weeks now and it's been great. My general well being has improved dramatically and no longer feel the need to try too hard. I no longer feel the need to try at all. Dating myself is really easy, I have nothing to prove: I already know how great I am!

Split friends

It's a new expression Kenny and I came up with recently. Like split ends, but with friends. Those friends that 'split' over time and who you need to cut out of your life.

Of course, it's a natural process and not even a sad one. Aren't we all just passangers, we hop on and off stations in life? Sometimes we can be friends with people that happen to be in our lives at a certain stage in life and we must let them go when the time comes. Nothing wrong with it. People accept this natural process without thinking. There aren't many main characters in one's life, the vast majority of people surrounding us are extras and secondary actors.

With split friends though, it's never easy. They always like to remind you how much they've done for you during your so called friendship and how much you still owe them. You can't just cut them off - you really have to struggle. They will keep coming back to your life and ask for their money back. As if friendship is something you can measure.

People have different ways of showing friendship and that's basically what it's all about. The meaning of friendship is that is represents a selfless relationship between two people that feel affection towards eachother and share common beliefs, attitudes, styles and opinions. The moment someone puts a price of friendship they split!

I used to fall into the trap of split friends and tried to make a mental list of things that I had also done for them, until I realised that it is absolutely besides the point. All you really have to do with split friends is take a big scary scissors and cut them off!

I take it back...

I sometimes get carried away with writing about something that's on my mind at a certain moment in time. It takes a certain combination of circumstances to make me reach one conclusion or another. After writing my last post, I got to thinking about it... And I realised I got it all wrong...

I got it all wrong when passing judgements about one kind of man or another because the only one who thinks that is... ME. Yes me, I am making this a reality in my own mind.

At the end of the day, the 'didn't feel a spark' guy is probably right. What's the point of wasting one's energy? If there ain't, then there ain't. I somehow always believed that there should be some courtesy between daters. I've always thought about things too much, decided to give people chances just because they seemed nice and that maybe the spark would come later etc etc. And things ended up with me placing them in the first category and not understanding why the second category was acting the way they did. So I kind of want to take it back. There is no such thing as categories of men, there are only bad decisions...

'I didn't feel a spark'

My recent dating experience revealed that there are usually two types of men you are more likely to encounter: those you can't get rid of and those who 'don't feel there is a spark'.

Those you can't get rid of have been quite blessed by nature with the ability to observe just quite how much of a gem you are, what amazing woman just landed in their back yard, how talented and how cool you are, and by associating themselves with you, they hope that some of that 'coolness' will rub on. They are of course intelligent men with a lot of common sense, however, they lack that manly energy that any woman of any kind find irrestible and attractive. They bear no mistery and would do anything they are told. They do not know how to crack a flirtatious joke and they possibly have a slightly lower self esteem than their counterparts. Their fashion sense does not excel but they somehow manage to put on a decent outfit a woman would be inclined to ignore if unable to admire. They can be bearable for a while, until they become exasperating. Eventually, they will have to be let go and do some work on themselves.

The 'I didn't feel a spark' type are even worse. They are usually tall and well built, good looking lads with strong genes. Not necessarily extremely cultured, but quite performant when it comes to body building. Inclined to listen to the instinct of natural selection, the woman would be willing to close her eyes to a flaw or two as long as they act decent and they make her feel desireable. But surprisingly (or maybe not!) these kind of males do not know how to make themselves pleasant. They go by the rule: 'If she ain't perfect, why bother!' and - possibly - feel minimised and emasculated by the woman's intelligence and wit. They always prefer the back door at the end of a date and never ever get back to you after the date is consumated. When prompted, they have the barely minimal decency to reply 'I didn't feel there was a spark'... In these circumstances, some women may feel inclined to carry a box of matches or a Zippo lighter in their purses in an extra effort to bring a spark to a date. It seems that it is not enough for the woman to be reasonably pretty and proportioned, funny and charismatic throughout, always ready with a joke and an adventure story because the 'I didn't feel there was a spark' guy needs a bloody bonfire.

Or at least these are the results of a few months' survey, concluding that rather than going on a date, a woman is better off with a good book and a bottle of Shiraz! Resigned with the thought that clearly there aren't many men who have been endowed with charm, good looks, intelligence and common sense all at the same time, she is better off staying away from the dating jungle for a while. At least until that exceptional person (if he does exist) finds his own way into her life.

I heart London

'If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them.'
Henry David Thoreau

It is not for me to judge what happened. Don’t get me wrong, I do judge the people that provoked this abominable destruction - their acts are profoundly immoral and unacceptable in ANY society - but I do not feel entitled to propose a theory regarding why they did what they did.

Some say it’s pure vandalism, some say it’s because the looters come from underprivileged background, some say we should blame the Government for closing their eyes to an ever growing social problem, some say it’s the lack of proper parenting and education or even human rights abuse. Whatever it is, it happened and it did teach all of us a few lessons.

When I first came to London, I was overwhelmed by its diversity. I found it almost scary back then and it took me many years to grasp the fact that despite its apparent heterogeneity, London has a huge soul shared by the millions who chose to live here, in probably the most amazing city in the world. Despite the tragedy we all experienced in the last few days, Londoners came together to stand up to the revolting, senseless riots and looting, cleaning up our streets and standing together to protect the city we deeply love and respect. We all backed up our Police officers in an effort to put a stop to what seemed to get out of rational control and people like the old woman telling the looters off outside Debenhams in Clapham or the Turkish men in Dalston fighting the looters away to protect their shops really brings back the faith in the humankind. I saw hundreds of messages on the Malaysian student Ashraf Haziq, who got robbed when injured, Twitter page: #getwetllsoonashrafhaziq.

And that really means a lot. It means that together, any wrong can be turned into good.

It is not my place to say what needs to be done. There is a lot to be done by the Government and we should make sure this happens. We should all not let this lesson get by unlearned. We should do whatever we can, united, to keep the spirit of London alive. And as Mahatma Ghandi said: 'We must become the change we want to see.'

Last tango in Paris

The (in)famous Bertolucci, 1972, film with Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider.

The story without names. It's all about living the moment, really living it. No need for history and personal stories to take the mind away from the present. The history, the baggage is ignored, it has nothing to do with te liberating (or enslaving?!) power of nameless sex. When names are asked, guns are being shot. It's all about the mistery. Once the veil is lifted, reality doesn't match the fantasy.

I am obsessed with the soundtrack and can't stop thinking of Jeanne's outfits. It was 1972 and her yellow mini dress, her fur collar white coat and fedora hat are more timeless than ever. And so are all her other outfits. There's a sordid and yet alluring sexiness about this film. So very Paris, so very noir...

Exciting new designer: Zelia Horsely

I only came accross Zelia Horsely's jewellery when I was working on one of my styling assignments. I had a brochure from London Jewellery Week and started browsing through looking for inspiration. As expected, not many designs stood out for me - I am quite difficult to please when it comes to jewellery, I have a tendency to dismiss pieces that do not break some kind of rules and yet obey the rule of estethics - but when I saw Zelia's chain collar, I knew I'd stepped over a gold mine.

I instantly used it in my assignment - it was a mood board for one of my favourite characters, Elizabeth Bennet of 'Pride and Prejudice' - and decided to find out more about this exciting designer.

And what I found was to take my breath away. In all her unique pieces, Zelia manages to create a happy marriage between industrial and finesse, between bondage and femininity, between the ego and the alter ego. There is a dominatrix and a Lolita in each and every piece and every single one of them has a story to tell. I have a feeling Zelia has found a way to talking to the woman of today, the woman who increasingly needs to be all in one.