#daisy murray

[fyblackwomenart]

"'Doja' Art Print" by Daisy Murray

[cubmagazine]

The Polo Neck

Bonjour, bonsoir! Je m’appelle  Polo-neck. Je suis, uuuh how you say, the staple of the trans-seasonal wardrobe of deux thousand et thirteen, non? Ahem...

Uuuuh you want to be chic? Tres, tres chic? Pick up the wool-blend garment to have the, uuuh, the sex. Descartes would tell you, I’m sure, Je pense, donc je suis. So, think about buying a polo-neck, buy this top-come-jumper and be the student with a certain je ne sais quoi. You see?

What I’m sure you’re aware of, mon petit filou, is that you can wear me anywhere (though, I may be guilty of making your head feel like it’s about to pop off a la un champagne cork) and with so many coquet accoutrements; espressos, poetry anthologies, cigarettes, glasses and so forth. And what clothes shall I wear to complete these scholarly poses with? Well, my chou-fleur, everything! Mais oui, Rodney! Mange tout! A-line skirts, Levi  501s, Barbour or trench, the world is your huitre! To really get some points de Brownies pop a Breton top over me, you’ll be as hot as a poodle in St Tropez, but you’ll look cool, so who gives a flying merde eh?

And where may you find me? Of course I am lurking in smoky jazz bars in hidden basements, sipping an aperitif outside Le Deux Magots and figuring out, ‘Who, then, can prove that I am the proper person to impose, by my own choice, my conception of man upon mankind?’ nose-deep in Sartre. But I am also in Zara (in leather), & Other Stories (in FUR) and all those awesome shops which do basic polos in SO. MANY. COLOURS (Uniqlo, H&M and American Apparel) just being fairly cheap and machine washable.

What is, perhaps, the reason d’etre of le polo-neck, moi, is that I come with (free of charge) a promise of some hot, hard sexual promiscuity. Go forth and wear me, pretend to be mysterious, enjoy a French love-affair, anticipate plenty petit morts and remember to use a French letter…

[cubmagazine]

The Hawaiian Shirt

Sup dude…uh brother…home…eyy? Yehhh cool cool coolio man, remember me? Your dad bought me on your parent’s honeymoon…Antigua? 1986? No? Well I’m only bloody back in mate! The Hawaiian Shirt!

All those years of being mocked, they’re over! Old people don’t wear me anymore, it’s all sex, drugs and rock and bloody roll these days. Goodbye karaoke, t’ra early bird dinners and thank you Hunter S. Thompson.

Can you wear me? Sure, you’re under the age of 50 and you’ve only got a bit of a paunch (all those flippin alco-pops you wacky kids are into these days.) The best thing about me is that even though I’ve been pretty well-worn all summer long, I still look pretty uuh groovy? Funky? Well into the cooler months and there is still a pretty plentiful supply down at your local hip second-hand, I mean, vintage shops. I can be worn for days, and more importantly, nights, since the more smelly and beer-stained I become the closer to Johnny Depp you look. Although shorts, sandals and socks are optional, you can basically be associated with the coolest journalist and sexiest actor who ever lived, ever – ever - by wearing one piece of clothing which your Uncle Bob definitely still has and would love to give you.

Don’t worry about the weather getting a bit nipster you hipster! The sun’s still shining 40% of the time anyway. There are some sartorial solutions to this problem too, you can wear one of those sweet string vests under me (a la Cliff Richards Summer Holiday) and I’m sure you’ll keep me warm with a beer jacket anyway, yeh? Am I right?

The best this about the Hawaiian shirt, er, well, me, is that Hunter S. was a full advocate of the weird or, more accurately, the mentally unhinged, thus, the more odd/like a junkie you look, the better! That means, old jeans, double prints, odd socks, whatevs. Zany stuff eh?

Let me just give you some advice before you wear me though, son. I mean, I’m down with whatever, totes, but just remember shoot for the stars, not your arms.

[cubmagazine]

The LWD

That's me, the little white dress. That LBD hussy everyone says you’ve been hanging out with, well she’s clingy and down-right tacky in my opinion. Not only that but everyone knows she’s as exciting as Alexa Chung turning up to an East London gig in a Breton top, classic, but boring. 

So, hi hun, call me LWD.  Everybody does. I’ll be your new BFF girl, I’ll make your tan look good whilst neatly concealing the extra somethin'-somethin' (namely-pizza, pasta and gelato) you collected over your family holiday in Lake Garda. But darling, if you holidayed this year without irony and with eight girls in Magaluf, I'm guessing I’m not the dress for you. I know, I know, wearing all white ain't nothin’ new. It's been rammed down our throats all spring, 'all-white is a bit of alright!'. Ever since that Zara skort came along in the colour of the season, London has looked like a rainy, pale, and less cosmetically enhanced version of a P.Diddy party. You've tried looks like me, white converse, that pointy-fronted pair of shorts, a sharp, white American Apparel T-shirt and a slash of red lippy. You looked great, on-trend yet classic and with the bonus of wearing the latest built in tan-enhancing technology. What happened next though? You spilt red wine down your front, the teeny-tiny nude thong you wore for the occasion still managed to give you a VPL, your Aunty Flow came for an unexpected visit, some yobby joy-riders drove through a puddle whilst you waited for the 25, leaving you looking like the loser of a wet t-shirt competition and then some smart-arse tells you, 'Wimbledon's over sweetheart'. It's called Sod's Law, remember? Though I would usually condone the mantra 'the rules are, there ain't no rules' (can a quote from Thunder Road in 'Grease' be a mantra?) when it comes to white there are some rules which ensure you can politely tell Sod to, uh, sod off. Essentially, don’t make me tight-fitting, no body con. Maybe, if its realllyyyyy expensive, double-lined and you have a Bret Easton Ellis 'hardbody', but still, probably not. Secondly, try not to dress me up, think of me as the Caggie of dresses. Remember, clean, crisp and tailored soon becomes crusty, creased and, well, a bit of a hot mess. I should be cotton, possibly broderie anglais, possibly lace, falling anywhere between your cuisse and cankle, and worn like you just threw me on this morning. ABC easy as LWD. P.S. PLEASE don't put boots, cowboy or otherwise, anywhere near me, this isn't 2007 and you aren't Sienna Miller. Sandals, espadrilles and trainers only, thank you.

[cubmagazine]

London Fashion Week Day 3: Mercedes-Benz Fashion Days

The sun was shining, I was running late and so was the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Days Showcase. Freemason's Hall was full to the brim and filled with an electric atmosphere.

Anna K Anna K opened the Ukrainian line-up with Motown sass and slow sexy struts. All white organza ruffles and appliqué evolved to incorporate baby blues and stripes - playing with sheer fabrics along the way (in fashion shows this essentially means nipples...lotsa nipples). As colours changed, the music tuned to a circus tune. Shoulders became ballooned and trousers became pantaloons. Anna K achieved both playful proportions and sexy silhouettes. Bon.

 Anton Belinskiy

Belinskiy's show was young, funk-filled and totally imaginable on the backs of East London's trendies, not necessarily all to my taste - but brimming with the potential of impact. The opening looks looked like something Salt, Pepper and Spinderella would have worn. Essentially, in the words of David Brent 'some M.C Hammer shit'. Moving away from the questionable gold lame pieces, Belinsky's waffle-knit cream jumpers, black and silver tinsel pinafore dress and billowing trench coats were as fresh as putting broad-rimmed hats in the same show as sports street wear. These clothes should come with a warning: do not wear unless you are down-right, ballsy cool.

Lera Leshchova Leshchova's opening music threatened to take us into a 'Fantastic, Plastic World'. Whilst I'm not sure it quite transported me there, it was a pleasant enough place where I ended up. Chrome asymmetric necklaces wrapped around the slender necks of the models. 80s power dressing very much came into play with strong shoulders and clean draping giving way to plunging necklines and straight up-down dresses. The palette was very much muted in white and a cappuccino pink. Detailing in metallic bronze unfortunately became a little repetitive as the show continued though the uber-cool music kept the hipsters interested.

[cubmagazine]

London Fashion Week Day 2: Orla Kiely

Daisy said: Just a little walk away from the main hub of London Fashion Week, Orla Kiely held a three hour presentation in the darling space of Elms Lester Gallery. Darling is the adjective of choice when describing this (darling) journey into Kiely (absolutely darling) fantastical world. So, just imagine I'm saying everything with darling in front of it.

L and I were escorted up a tiny wooden staircase into the show space. With the singing of cicadas and yelp of birds filling your ears, one was confronted by not only a zebra, but a huge rhinoceros! Absolutely darling (sorry, couldn't resist). Tall glasses of champagne had giraffe stirrers or wee perching monkeys in them, which were not only twee but also it just little harder to neck our champers.  A blessing in disguise, perhaps.

To add the adorable overload there were loads of children at the event; for them, cartons of Umbongo were provided! The tropical juice drink with overtones of colonial racism (Peep Show). I was so busy pulling faces at a chuckling cherub I missed the first look. Although I, personally, would no work the Kiely look, it was the epitome of wearable. Kitsch to the right degree the feminine curve and frills were given a trendy edge with the presence of Safari-style pockets and buttons, along with clompy sandals (really cool sandals) and animal-faced , box messenger bags.

Pretty models, binoculars and the like stooped out of a small wooden door in Alice in Wonderland fashion and trooped round to the Safari display where they sat painting, chatting and smiling as bloggers such as Bip Ling and Susie Bubble tweeted ferociously.

Orla successfully created an atmosphere of nativity and friendliness in her Safari wonderland. Absolutely darling!

Lizzie said: Orla Kiely’s show will be without a doubt the most adorable of the week. We climbed up a narrow, winding staircase into Orla’s magical vision. Her Spring/Summer 2014 collection combined adorable feminine vintage with Victorian safari. A life-sized rhino looms from the far corner, vintage maps of the world are plastered across the walls, exotic sounds fill our ears and transport us from the lofty, cramped attic into the vast African planes, champagne glasses are thoughtfully decorated with tiny plastic giraffes. It seems Orla has considered every last detail.

A playful atmosphere has everyone excitedly anticipating what she has in store – no signs of the collection yet, however. It was like a game, trying to guess how the clothes would match the illusion surrounding us. Suddenly and quite informally, a model gracefully steps out of a tiny wooden door; like Alice clambering into wonderland. She stoops upwards and the audience sigh in admiration. Sporting a beret and schoolgirl socks pulled above her knees, teamed with bright red, patent sandals, she settles herself in a safari scene in the far side of the room and curiously gazes through giant magnifying glasses and jars of insects. One by one, others join her.

The clothes were classically Orla – vintage, feminine and flattering. Zebra print adorned many of the clothes and the bags were decorated with embroidered rhinos. My favourite items of the collection included the panda and fox-head chain bags, the nude sandals and the running theme of delicate silk and cotton pieces. In a world of fashion where androgyny is growing to dominate women’s fashion, Orla reminds us that prettiness still exists, and that one can wear a beret at any occasion…

[cubmagazine]

London Fashion Week Day 2: Hellen van Rees

Over at the Freemasons Hall Hellen Van Rees showed her presentation 'Fuzzylayerglossbox'. She promised an assortment of 'nostalgic elegance and futurism' and failed to quite deliver it. 

The show room was filled with the clicking of camera shutters and haunting music. After being offered rose, white wine and Strongbow...Strongbow (I can't even) models entered the eerie space and stood as installations.

The show's saving grace was the beautiful hand-woven tweed which embellished the almost 20's lines. With multi-coloured threads Van Rees created a Missoni-like fabric which exuded laid-back style with its frayed hem. The collection consisted largely of dresses which played with proportions moving the waist line from empire to high-waisted to drop.

The famed blogger Susie Bubble also made an appearance which created quite the buzz around one of Van Rees' quivering, live mannequins. She, also, seemed most impressed by the delicate woven materials which most certainly stole the otherwise fairly plain show.

[cubmagazine]

London Fashion Week Day 2: Lug von Siga

Daisy said: Early afternoon on Saturday Lug Von Siga provided me with my favourite show of the day. Gul Agis presented her brand in Freemasons hall and it was a real delight.

Sitting in what felt like the inside of a chocolate bar the luxurious room translated perfectly with the lux clothing. Tribal beats underpinned the 'Tribal Attitudes' theme of the SS14 show and created a rushing atmosper which left bloggers jigging in their PVC.

The models had been styled to perfection with shimmering cheekbones and structured, oriental and sleek ponytails. Cold-shoulders, waist cut-outs and mid-riff baring two-pieces exposed svelte and tanned skin tones. The hues of the show maintained the lux atmosphere; with caramel, navy, metallic and black. Silk, embroidery and fringing moved the 'tribal' designs towards an oriental feel. The combination of structured and curved lines (though not entirely original) were indulgent in sports lux trends and verged on 20's in its dark glamour.

Gul Agis' SS14 show was a lesson in sexy, sports-lux. Showing others how it's done her show was wild yet mysterious. AND she gave CUB two seats. Absolutely fabulous, darling.

http://instagram.com/p/ePZyknliZb/

  Lizzie said:

By far my favourite event of the day, Lug Van Siga’s dark, sultry show was everything that I imagined London Fashion Week to be. As soon as the lights dimmed and the upbeat, tribal music kicked in, we knew we were in for something a bit special. The collection certainly did not disappoint!

Dominated by geometric tribal prints, black and white contrast, and metallic hues of gold and topped off with monochrome and tassels, each piece easily slipped in with the theme. Keeping accessories minimal, focus was drawn closely to the sultry yet tribal mood of the clothes. I essentially wanted every piece that dominantly strode past me hung up in my wardrobe for next Spring.

The designs combined cultural heritage with contemporary appeal; a definite flapper girl 1920’s approach juxtaposed with baroque and tribal patterns. Mixing the feminine and masculine gave the garments a unique edge that I adored. Too fabulous.