Tom Pecheux and Estée Lauder preview new Pure Color Collections

Yesterday I was invited to Paris to meet Tom Pecheux Creative Makeup Director for Estée Lauder, to discuss his unique relationship with the beauty company and witness the unveiling of four new Color collections including his first full range of nail lacquers.

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Pecheux was brought on board by ELC just three years ago as Creative Makeup Director and designer of the Pure Color collections. Since joining the beauty company he has vowed to bring his unique fashion point of view to a brand, which has previously been a favourite of mothers and grandmothers who still identify it with its founder; the ultimate American business magnate and high society lady, Estée Lauder.

I arrived at a chic Paris apartment yesterday morning – the venue for the preview and interview – soaking up the rays on a beautiful balcony overlooking the river with a perfect view of the Eiffel tower.

[Above: Tom Pecheux, Estée Lauder Creative Makeup Director and Charlotte Smith trbusiness.com Editor]

It was apt that Lauder chose the stunning location to showcase the four new makeup collections - that will be rolling out into domestic and travel retail markets over the next six months – as Pecheux revealed that Paris had been the inspiration for the nail colours he had created.

PURE COLOR NAIL COLLECTION

But before I cosied up to Pecheux on one of the pristine white sofas, the Pure Color Nail collection was presented to a select group of beauty journalists. “Even though Estée Lauder is an American company, we have always had very strong relationship with Paris,” began one of the Estée lauder Representatives.

One of the principle launches for Estée Lauder’s next season Pure Color collections, is nail polish. “The first nail polish bottle was introduced in 2000; it was designed in Paris…when we looked at upgrading the nail collection everybody wanted to change the bottle, but Leonard Lauder [son of Lauder founders-Ed] said ‘absolutely not, this is an iconic bottle’,” she continued. The inside of the bottle has been shaped to make the liquid inside, look like a drop of nail polish, which clings to the end of the brush just before you apply it to the nail.

The select group was then shown the motion editorial for the Pure Color nail collection, which features Tom and French-born EL spokesmodel, Constance Jablonski, galavanting around Paris on a cold December night. The conceptual piece offered the audience an explanation for the nail colour assortment.

“I mean as you know, nail is the big trend,” said Pecheux. “I originally came up with 50 nail lacquers.” But he soon realized that it would be unfeasible to create such a huge collection all at once.

'FASHION POINT OF VIEW'

Pecheux reduced the size of the collection, preferring to keep the unique colours with a ‘fashion point of view’. “My job is to bring a true fashion point of view with respect to every type of woman in the world. I wanted to bring my knowledge of the fashion industry and influence from the fashion shows on which I work, to this collection. I use fashion and makeup trends to inspire me.”

In then end Lauder and Pecheux decided upon ten colours to start with, following with the next thirty, forty colours in the next six months. “Some will be limited editions, some will disappear, but we have high hopes for this nail collection,” added Pecheux.

Under the Creative Makeup Director’s orders, Lauder has departed from the typical reds and pinks of the past, opting for a lot of ‘trendy’ dark nail lacquers; some with refined glittery finishes, ‘in vogue’ with high fashion models stomping major catwalk shows all over the world.

The ten-piece collection is split into two collections; Paris by day and Paris by night aka; Beyond Black and Metal Mania.

INTRIGUING SHADES

“This dramatic palette of intriguing shades, textures and finishes expresses confident style and attitude with unprecedented colour and impact,” says ELC.

“When creating this collection I wanted to capture the intensity and naughty side of Paris when it truly comes alive…at night, said Pecheux.

“Beyond Black is defined by five deep shades that saturate nails in rich and dramatic color, capturing the allure of the Parisian Femme Fatale,” says Lauder.

“Metal Mania dresses nails in glam glitters for a modern metallic finish, enticing women to experiment, with daring effect.”

VIOLET UNDERGROUND

Pecheux then moves on to ‘one of his favourite collections’, Violet Underground, which comprises a Five Color EyeShadow Palette, a Quick-Thick EyeLiner in Punker Black, Velvet Lipstick in Black Cassis and Violet Crush; Color Gloss in Chaotic Currant and Rebellious Violet and a Nail Lacquer in Black Iris.

[Above: Violet Underground Collection]

“This collection is centred around a colour which I think suits everyone. I think the quality of the matte lipstick is unique…it’s long-lasting and feels luxurious and it doesn’t dry out the lips.”

One of the new exciting products in the Violet Underground collection is what Pecheux endearingly refers to as ‘my Sharpie’. Pecheux believes that this is one of the many new products that will appeal to consumers that don’t usually shop with Estée Lauder.

“The look you can create with the Sharpie does remind you of Hollywood glamour, but it can also be used to create punk or rock looks, which are not usually associated with Lauder.”

CREATIVE DIFFERENCES

Pecheux is very open and frank about his difference in opinion with Lauder and talks journalists through the process he went through when coming up with the visuals for the Violet Underground campaign.

“With this beautiful visual of Constance – it’s very cosmetic, it’s very make-up you can sell make-up products and a beautiful woman very effectively with this image, however I think makeup should always be linked with a woman’s lifestyle and her personality and it should be a bit more about her character and not just about her beautiful makeup.

[Above: Constance Jablonski modelling Violet Underground]

“[To this effect] I created a different image.” Pecheux holds up another visual of an Asian model wearing a blonde wig looking suitably chic and aloof. An image, that wouldn’t be out of place in beauty editorial spread for Vogue.

“I wanted to capture a girl going out to Studio 54, a girl going on the runway; I think this image is more fun and conveys more about the girl’s lifestyle and less about her pretty makeup.”

VIVID SHINE

Pecheux says that discussions over the visuals went back and forth, but eventually it was decided that the original close-up cosmetic-focused image of Constance Jablonski would be the dominant visual used to promote the new colour collections. “50% of people at the Estée Lauder [head office] were very enthusiastic about the image and fell in love with it. But the other half were not convinced.”

[Above: The visual which Pecheux created for Violet Underground]

[Left: Estée Lauder Vivid Shine eyeshadow teal]

Pecheux will also release a Vivid shine collection, consisting of 20 Pure Color Gelée Powder Eyeshadows with satin finish, a selection of nail colours and 20 lipsticks.

“16 of these are very wearable lipstick shades and the other four are what I call ‘transfer lipsticks’.” The idea of these lip colours; in gold, silver, grey and white, is that when they are applied over the top of one any of the other shades it can transform the original colour.

“These 16 then become adaptable to your mood or the occasion at which you’re wearing them. This is something we do for the runways all the time to create a unique ‘couture colour’. We used foundation, concealer or pencils to change the various shades we had.”

PURE COLOR BLUSH COLLECTION

Lauder and Pecheux has also revamped the Color Blush collection which Pecheux described as ‘old and dusty’. “I have introdue some very bright colours here, because I need tones I can use on dark skin as well as light. If you put one of the more subtle shades on Joanne [Puerto Rican spokesmodel, Joan Smalls-Ed], it’s going to look like highlighter so we needed blush with powerful pigment.”

[Left: Estée Lauder Pure Color Blush]

Pecheux talks about the women which inspire him:

“I don’t like weak women. I like strong women; they can be wonderful mothers and wives and businesswomen and have a strong point of view and that’s who I like to create makeup for. It wasn’t my duty to think about creating makeup for a specific woman it’s about creating makeup for every woman with a fashion point of view.

“I think the new collections can do more than answer any woman’s desire. I don’t want to answer desire, I want to create desire and you don’t have to, but I think it is better if you have an open mind.

I asked Pecheux whether his mission to bring a fashion-forward point of view to a classic beauty brand has always been easy to implement in the three years since he started working for Lauder.

MISSION POSSIBLE

“My mission to start with is to have product that I can use. I’ve been with Estée Lauder for almost three years now, but I’ve been in make-up for 25 years, so I’m certainly not going to create a product that I cannot use. It started off with me being very selfish and making products for me.

“Yes I do work in fashion and yes I do believe that that is the reason why Estée Lauder came knocking at my door and said ‘can we work together.’

When I asked whether Pecheux had encountered any friction between himself and ELC with respect to his unique fashion point of you in the last few years, his response remained positive, but honest.

“So far our relationship has been amazing and ELC is a huge and successful company. When success is there and numbers are positive, certain people are scared to move forward. I don’t want to put off all of the grandmothers that use Estée Lauder makeup, but I also need products that I can use for myself.

“My ego is very pleased when a 20 year old girl tells me that she likes my product and I am also pleased when her grandmother tells me the same.”

[A full length interview will appear inside the Beauty Report coming soon from the June issue of the Travel Retail Business]

Beyond the Call of Duty

Video games are the marmite of technology. Those that love them can’t get enough and those who hate them can’t get the ones they love, off them.

Gaming has evolved. Gone are simpler days of Ping Pong and Pacman when small dots evoked yelps of ectasy and gasps of anguish at the arcade. Now games aren’t so much about achieving a super-duper astronomical, record score, but they have been developed to have a totally submersive effect. These modern console games allow the gamer to fall deep into a virtual world and suspend all of their concrete beliefs such as 'humans cannot fly' and 'humans cannot be respawned'.

But what happens when instead of providing fantasy worlds or alternative planets – such as in Zelda, Mario, World of Warcraft etc – developers such as Treyarch, begin manipulating realistic scenarios; things that could actually happen? The answer; Call Of Duty (or COD). The seventh and latest game from the hit franchise, COD Black Ops, is a first-person shooter during the conflict of the Cold War. Within 24 hours of going on sale, the game sold more than 7 million copies, 5.6 million in the U.S. and 1.4 million in the U.K., breaking the record set by its predecessor Modern Warfare 2.

Now, depending on the reader of this blog, I won’t bore you/titillate you with the game's synopsis or pontificate on details of the various firearms that a gamer carries (apparently two different firearms can be held at one time.) My questions for discussion are:

a) Is COD detrimental to social interaction?

b) Is COD melting brain cells and breeding sociopaths?

Let’s look at the benefits that game playing provides.

COD, when played online, is as much about social interaction with other real-life humans as it is blowing up the Russians. When I observe my boyfriend playing COD, I see genuine expressions of sheer joy as well as hilarity. Players do actually laugh an enormous amount whilst hurling grenades and flying apaches. It’s a blast (pun-intended) apparently. There’s also team-work, cohesion with total strangers, organization, and tremendous concentration involved. And although the plot is fictional, at least it’s built around concrete historical facts.

However, when the game drops off the internet and players return to their solitary and silent virtual world (otherwise known as single-player mode), the whole exercise becomes more difficult for friends, partners and family members to comprehend. Social interaction is cut off, laughing becomes a distant memory and the glazed/comatose expression (occasionally interrupted by a jerking of the mouth or a twitch of the brow) replaces the once joyful and animated one. This is where the benefits of computer games are harder to detect. This is when gaming becomes addictive.

Addiction to gaming can be as detrimental to mental and social well-being as one to drugs or alcohol. Although the effects are not physically severe, they are lasting and difficult to counteract. Popular documentary series Panorama, focused on gaming addicts for one of its programmes at the end of 2010. They were speaking to gamers who had dropped out of school or university just to sit around on their arses for 21 hours a day, while the games console replaced reality with an unhealthy dose of escapism.

Escapism – in proportionate doses – is not dangerous and is in fact a healthy exercise that can be as important as cardio vascular. But it’s when the escape turns into a permanent exile from reality that gamers drop of the reservation, so to speak. And it’s not just when the game is switched on that there is a problem. For most gamers the brain still processes battle scenarios long after the console is switched off. For hours, gamers can replay exploding heads, twitching bodies on the edge of death, or transport themselves into the boots of a foot soldier looking through the sight on a sniper’s gun. Prolonged exposure to games affects sleep patterns and concentration on even the simplest task. The brain becomes preoccupied and distracted and as a result habits and mannerisms begin to change. Some gamers can even adopt anti-social behaviour.

Cuba has condemned the release of COD Black Ops (not a surprise there). The Cubadebate website said the game "encourages sociopathic attitudes of American children and adolescents, the main consumers of these virtual games". Evidence which suggests that COD Black Ops encourages the entire gaming population to commit acts of violence, is unfounded. Computer games with violent content are as dangerous to mentally stable individuals as criminal dramas, epic war films or even news bulletins. But, put a person with a personality disorder or a penchant for petty crime in front of a shoot-em-up for 21 hours a day and one morning they might wake up and want to pick up a real gun.

However, thankfully the majority of gamers are just tech mad. COD provides a scenario where (excuse the cheesy sentiment) every player can become a hero. It is escapism at its best. Gamers are part of a team that can never reject them or prevent them for joining in because of the way they dress, the language they speak or their gender. Perhaps online gaming even promotes global social cohesion and acceptance...maybe I went too far.

What I do know is that in order for games to have positive effects, the balance between game playing and engaging in activities outside of the Xbox, PS3, Wii etc, is essential. Playing on COD for more than a couple of hours a day is heading into dangerous territory. Not just for the social and mental wellbeing of the gamer, but also for his/her partner, who, if they're anything like me, need a break from repetitive phrases such as ‘We’ve got the bomb’ or ‘capture the [friggin’] flag’ or whatever it is! It’s a case of SOS for girlfriends/boyfriends worldwide; save our sanity (for just a few hours a day)...please?

Over and out.

For more info surf here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/panorama/2010/12/computer_games_-_a_hard_habit.html

Or here

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Call_of_Duty:_Black_Ops

The day it all ended...for better and worse

This next installment has been a long time coming. I apologise. So this is what's happened. Andy is unsatisfied with the relationship he has with his wife and is in the process of deciding what to do about it. After witnessing the sublime happiness of one of his colleagues and his partner, Andy decides to get very drunk. On his way home he comes across a decapitated pigeon. Due to his fondness of pigeons and the unbelievable amount of alcohol coursing through his veins, he then decides to pick it up and take it home. His wife catches him putting the bird on the dining room table. And this is what happens... Don't know what's going on? Read the previous installment here.

This seemed like an incredulous statement. Surely it should be obvious to his wife what he was doing. Andy looked down at his hand and the offending item and nearly threw up...again.

“Oh god. What is that?” he whispered putting a hand to his mouth, without realising it was moist with the bird’s blood.

“Andy, are you pissed?”

“Of course not. Just had a couple with Mike after work.”

“Mike? I thought you were meeting with that army general or whoever he was? Or is that bullshit too?” She fired at him. Her stance was intimidating. She was holding a hand towel with both hands held taught across her thighs. It was if she was getting ready to wind it up and whip him with one moist end of it if he didn't answer correctly.

“Why are you so angry all the time?” He could feel that he was swaying and flinging his arms about without any assertion or control.

“That’s totally unfair Andy. I am NOT angry all the time. Just right now...and this morning...and last night when you told me you didn’t want sex because you were feeling fluish or some crap. And now you come home doused in god knows what...wait...is that vomit?”

He considered the question. Looked down at the various splodges of partially digested food and stomach bile decorating his shirt and continued.

“Yes, I believe it is. So now I’m not allowed to drink, is that right?” The smell of the pigeon carcass reminded him of the kebab he’d previously guzzled. He rubbed the dead bird’s blood between his fingers and inwardly questioned his sanity.

“You are ridiculous and I can’t live like this anymore" she continued.

“Oh come on. Stop exaggerating Jen. For God’s sake, I’m drunk and I missed dinner. Get it together.” That was a mistake, one that he instantly regretted. The towel in her hands snapped tighter and her eyes grew wide as a bush baby's.

“Our life together could have really gone somewhere, but now I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t live with you like this. Not in my condition.” She was breathing short and sharp through her nose, trying to stem her inevitable tears.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re not making any sense-"

“I’m pregnant you arsehole!”

Andy physically wretched. He didn’t mean to at all. It just happened. It must have been an acid reflux brought on by this extremely distressing news. He composed himself.

“I beg your pardon.” He said. He was back to slurring his words again. It was like his brain and his mouth were numb from the vodka intermingled with the thin blood spurting through his arteries.

“I’m pregnant.” She was far less angry with her delivery this time. She looked down at her hands which were gently tugging at the towel now. She was winding it round her fingers, like a nervous child. She was wearing her baggy pyjama bottoms and thin camisole which revealed her undulating chest, heaving and dipping under her agitated breaths. She started to cry. One hand came up to stop the tears, but it was no good. They had already begun to wet her nose and cheeks.

Andy was horrified. In that moment, he had a brief spell of clarity. He knew he really didn’t love Jenny, but now he was realising that she knew it too. How could he support and love a child with a woman he couldn't share a bed with? What the hell was he supposed to do?

“Jen...I’m sorry. I’m so so bloody sorry. We’ll be fine. My mistake.”

“No Andy. You don’t love me.” Did he say that loud? No he didn’t. She just knew him too well.

“It’s not going to work. I’ll arrange to move in with Alex for a bit.”

“She’s just had a kid herself Jen.”

“Well then she’ll understand.”

She left the kitchen dragging her feet, shoulders collapsed and hunched forward. She had capitulated right in front of him. It had been terrible for Andy to witness. She was always so bright and boisterous, and if he was honest, rarely angry. To see her so dejected crippled him. It didn’t matter that he didn’t love her. He cared for her with all of his heart, but that was a completely useless feeling and one which Jen should never and could never be satisfied with.

*******************

The whole headless pigeon thing had really freaked Jenny out. He could have assumed this by registering her expression the night before, when he had laid it before her in the darkened kitchen like a sacrificial offering. But he knew for sure that she thought he had 'lost it', when he overheard her talking to her sister, Alex, on the phone at 6am. She was trying to mumble, but the walls of the bathroom were so thin, he could hear enough to get the jist.

“He’s....and....but really it’s completely nuts...not right now...it’s none of my business...I can’t ask him that.” This is where Andy became more intrigued. Ask him what? Probably something like; how could he be so despicable? Is he an alcoholic? Is he planning on supporting the baby? Is he insane?

No, it wasn’t any of these. The question that Jenny, prompted by her sister Alex, wanted the answer to was one far more surprising than he would ever imagine...

Ocean Park Hong Kong

If you've ever been there, you'll know what I'm talking about...

This was my first visit to Hong Kong. I was staying in urban Kowloon where the lights burned hot and bright and were alien to me. They were alien to my home in Lightwater – A small village in straight laced Surrey. In Kowloon the buildings seemed to grow taller every minute. They flashed and reflected every colour, winking at the tiny ants below. There were so many people. Living on top of one another, spilling out of buildings, squashed together on public transport. They squeezed through the streets like toothpaste out of the tube. Five days in, and I began to feel nauseous. The smell of salty fish and Chinese spices soaked my clothes, my hair and was absorbed by my wet skin. My guide decided to show me a different side to the island…

‘Ocean Park is not busy at this time of year.’ Jen said. The crowds of sticky children I had been expecting were at school. I am afraid of heights, but didn’t want to play it safe. It was Hong Kong and I’d travelled 12 hours to see it. The cable cars whirred as they streamed in from their previous destination. Jen helped me into the glass bubble. Only the top and bottom were glass. The sides were open, but for three metal bars on each side. ‘Why are these things open Jen? I thought you said there was glass all around.’ She giggled at me - Laughed at my obvious discomfort. I squeezed the plastic seat between my slippery fingertips and tried to breathe deeper and longer. The glossy bauble began to move. I closed my eyes and held a long breath.

‘No, no’ she said, ‘You must open your eyes. You’re going to miss everything.’ I opened one eye, then the other just as we were leaving the docking station. The gondola floated noiselessly above the landscape, held by a long looping cable. My palms were moist and my arms, sore from gripping the seat. My shoulders hunched around my goose pimpled neck. I couldn’t help but imagine the scenario of the gondola coming loose from the cable and bouncing down the mountain and finally plopping into the shark infested water below. I didn’t know for sure it was shark infested, but your mind always assumes the worst. ‘Honestly. Stop it. I can see you’re scared. Please relax. You’re going to regret it if you spend the whole ride stuck in that position.’

I finally breathed out. This was silly. Jen was right. For the first time, I let my mouth open. I allowed my chest to fill with the rushing air sweeping in between the protective steel bars. Then I began to look around. The gondola began to make it’s descent into the dark green chasm between these two natural mounds in the earth’s crust.

The peak on Wong Chuck Han and the other on Nam Long Chan were each other’s barrier to the rest of the world. Like two fighters squaring before battle, they were motionless, rigid, life pumping under their surface. I tilted my head back to focus on Wong Chuck Han. In this moment I remember feeling insignificant, minute, and humbled by natural beauty. I was a spec on the globe, about to be squashed by something infinitely bigger than myself. There was no clearer argument for God’s existence – the embellished scene lifted me out of my seat, then it lifted the fear right out of me, so it shattered on the crags below. I had never felt so exhilarated, so pumped with adrenalin, like this. My hands left the seat and clamored to the silvery bars. They no longer provided protection. They were holding me in, holding me back, chaining me to my earthly existence.

We were ascending again. I slithered to the other side of the cage, poking my head between the bars. The sea was on this side. The steel blue water wrinkled over the current like the skin over my purple veins - it pulsed with marine life. The ficus which had germinated over the mountain’s surface, concealed the rock’s less vibrant mottled grey/brown. I could imagine the evergreen, broad leaved, vegetation sucking at the wet air, recycling our exhausted breaths.

The horror continues...

Right, yes, hello again. It's the next installment of Andy's story. Just to recap, Andy left the office on another uninspiring day at work and decided to get drunk (alone) and send himself home, lapping up a greasy kebab. He gets on the train, looking like he's slept rough in a landfill site for several days, scaring women and children, before he's met by his sober friend from work catching the train home with his partner. Don't know what's going on? Read the previous installment here.

Andy's colleague and his kooky looking boyfriend were uncomfortable. It was one of those moments when you wish you could just rip your own face off, turn it inside out and replace it with an altogether different face that no one knows or recognises. It would be called the 'reversible face' and it would save you from untold embarrassment and agonising chit chat with ghastly people you wish you weren't associated with.

This particular conversation lasted no longer than two stops, but it was excruciating. It was awkward, mindless spaff that concluded with Si's boyfriend stating the bloody obvious, 'Well it's nice to meet you Andy... you're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow dude.' Dude? How old was this guy. He was wearing skinny jeans and a Ramones T-shirt. What a tool.

Si and his hippy toy boy sat two seats in front. Far enough to distinguish themselves from an unsavoury character such as himself, but not so far that he should be offended. They talked about the raw prawn appetizers, the expensive merlot and Jenny 'the slutty marketing girl' falling out of her bra. Andy began to feel desperately sad again. His achy head pulsed and as he looked down at the empty bottle of mainstream poison held fast in his hand, he despaired. He couldn't bear their contentment. It wasn't happiness, just a bit of peace and satisfaction to round out a meaningful day. Andy had totally forgotten what that felt like.

Just when he thought he couldn't stand to feel this way for a minute longer he became suddenly overwhelmed by something quite distressing. It became clear that he was going to be sick. As the train pulled up to the next stop, he threw the remains of his kebab off his lap, grappled with his umbrella and suitcase and scrambled to the carriage doors. As they opened he bent over double and released the entire contents of his stomach on to the platform... and on to someone's small dog.

'Oh sweet Jesus. I'm so bloody sorry.' The owner looked like she might have an aneurysm. She was a wizen thing wearing a long shapeless dress with tiny parrots all over it, and a knotted woolly cardigan. The dog shook violently and rolled over and over again. It seemed to be disgusted by the smell. The poor old lady, who kind of looked familiar, just picked up her dog and pulled herself up on to the train. As Andy wiped his mouth and began walking away, he heard that sweet little lady call him a prick. Wow.

He walked home. He felt like he didn't even deserve a taxi right now. He eventually made it to the street in Clapham where he lived. He scuffed his smart shoes on the wet pavement and deliberately stood on snails to hear the crunch. He felt the urge to swing around a lamp post and kick his heels up to his bottom. Then he abruptly stopped. It was a headless pigeon that did it. He felt his stomach flip again. It was right in his path obstructing his next footfall. The culprit was no doubt a well-fed fox. Nasty flame-haired demons. He could imagine it now, chewing on the dead bird's sinews and licking the blood off it's sharp tiny teeth. But it was only the head that was of use to the mangy scavenger; the body wasn't worth guzzling or taking back to the den. Andy bent down and tried to focus on the bird. He even picked it up to see it clearer, but the alcohol had made his fingers numb and his eyes completely useless. He thought the animal would feel gritty, unclean and damp, but it was soft and still warm.

It was only three feet to the gate at the front of his house, but it took him about fifteen minutes to make it to the front door. He was being careful not to drop the bird which he cradled in his left hand, leaving his right hand to struggle with the brolley and briefcase. In retrospect he realised how insane he looked. Days later he would mull over this extremely blurred portion of the day and desperately try to rationalise his properly absurd behaviour. Part of his brain - a place so insipid and frankly terrifying - thought he might know what possessed him to bring a decapitated bird into his house, the remainder, hadn't the foggiest. He wondered then, why it was always the worst part of his personality which revealed itself every time he got through a whole bottle of cheap vodka.

It was that mindless, anti-social idiot which also forgot that his wife would be loading the dish washer at this precise moment. The first thing he did after he stumbled up the large paving slab which served as a door-step, was dump the seemingly unimportant items in his right hand, at the front door. The second was to take the bloody offering still clamped in his left hand, into the kitchen 'to get it cleaned up'. He found a towel resting on the radiator as he made his way through his house, swaying from side to side, nudging his shoulders on the door frames. He placed the bird on the dining table and wrapped it up in the towel.

'Andy? What the hell are you doing?' she said.

Are you trendy?

Why is it that come spring we get that sudden urge to be at our most fashion forward? Is it because the flowering season is more inspiring than the others? Is it the sprouting greens, the delicate honeysuckle purple and vibrant daffodil yellow which pull us out of our shapeless wraps and lengthy cardigans despite the blustery breeze biting at our goose pimpled legs?

I'm not sure what it is, but I know spring is the season for my insatiable spending. Every shop window display invites my meandering eye and draws me so close to the automatic doors that I'm forced to go in and browse for at least 15 minutes, before grabbing my decaf macchiato from Starbucks.

That's one of my favourite activities; sipping on a sugary hot beverage whilst scanning the racks, even if I'm not really 'hard core' shopping, I just like to gaze absentmindedly at the floral prints and the yummy bright colours, pass my hand through the light spring fabrics, and remind myself that eventually it might be warm enough to wear them in this country.

So how do you navigate your way through the myriad of looks this season is offering? I'm sticking to four key spring trends that I'm going to mix and match to keep them fresh into the summer months.

The *trends I'll be following this spring will be...

*All items can be found on www.asos.com. Click on the pics to go straight to the site.

WESTERN

It's a bit of cowboy, a whole lot of denim and some tassles thrown in for good measure. Double and triple denim is especially popular this season and it will still keep you reasonably warm on those cooler spring days.

Key pieces

Left: Cropped fringe jacket
Centre: Killah boyfriend shirt
Right: Denim Wrangler dress

Accessories

Left: Brown leather mocasins
Centre: Leather fringed studded bag
Right: Fringed brown satchel

MILITARY

Again this is a good trend for those who aren't quite ready for bare arms and legs in Britain, just yet. It's also ace for those of us who prefer muted or darker colours which are usually more slimming. Epaulets, studs and crests are details to look our for.

Key Pieces

Left: Stone coloured chino trousers from Asos.
Centre: Khaki long line vest, Mango
Right: Khaki military jacket

Accessories

Left: Leather body bag
Centre: Leather studded cuff
Right: Dogeared skull detail wooden beads

TRIBAL

This trend is not for the faint hearted. You can get really inventive with bold clashing prints, billowing maxi dresses, head scarves, beading and braids; it all works. Wear with a tan and chunky silver jewellery.

Key pieces












Left: Africa cut out back dress
Centre: Princess Tam tam playsuit
Right: Asos African shift dress











Accessories
Left: zebra print flat sandals
Centre: woven yellow clutch
Right: trio of wooden bangles

PASTELS

It's not so much a trend as it is a theme, especially for the high end designers. Stella McCartney, Fendi and Michael Kors among many others are using candy colours, and a whole range of nudes, beiges and taupes to really flatter all skin tones this season. It's basically a really easy way to look feminine and ultra girly. Draped, sheer fabrics flatter everyone and keep you cool on those rare sun filled lazy spring afternoons.

Key pieces












Left: Rose detail t-shirt dress
Centre: Dipped hem oversized vest
Right: Reiss Odila silk blend trousers

Accessories










Left: Ash Lotus cut out sandals
Centre: pink pumps
Right: pink snakeskin clutch

Dress it up

This is a fashion piece I wrote for the Vogue young writers' competition in 2008.

In recent years the fashion experts say, that to be in tune with the zeitgeist you really have to look like a boy. Models, forget how your genes and the seasons have turned you out. Flatten your chest, slouch and wear your boyfriend’s jeans. Then the likes of Balenciaga, MaxMara and Luella will say ‘Androgyny is in’ and use you on their catwalks. The shapeless waif look of the 1920’s threatens, but instead of bandaging our chests and sporting beaded fringe we’re encouraged to wear the sexy granddad shirt or the saucy trilby.


But me, I'm on strike, girl I was born, girl I am. Cavali, Galiano and Marchesa at least, I thank you. Designers who believe that this is still the age of the dress, all flirty and female. I' m a Valentino girl, curvaceous and proud of it, 'I don't think any man in the world wants to go out with a woman dressed like a boy?' Valentino asks. What he says is true, if not a little misogynist. Let’s face it - his dresses are cut for the size zero beauties of this world.




After a tempestuous writer’s strike, the Oscars were delivered, in true Hollywood style. The award season came and went – those little statues and statuettes found loving homes - but the fashion hits and misses will outlive even the teariest acceptance speech. Galliano, Valentino and Marchesa revolutionised traditional Oscar attire with their LRD – Little red dresses, on Heidi Klum, Mylie Cyrus and Anne Hathaway, while black dresses were panned by fashion critics as lack lustre.


I'm particularly excited to have seen Jil Sander's liquid silver maxi creation pictured on the oh so mini Nicole Richie at the opening of DCMA Collective's flagship store March 14th - just to prove that us vertically challenged petites can pull off the full length gown too.


My fave fashion moment for the iconic dress has got to be the decadent 1950's. It was in September of 1952, when Vogue gave birth to the concept of the LBD, 'The little black dress, deceptively simple, is the core of every collection.'

Voluptuous figures were hugged in all the right places in tussore dresses - skin colour was flattered by baby blue and blond. I don't think anyone will forget the flirty flash of Marilyn's knickers, when she sported that flapping white halter dress. Those were the days when women looked up happily to men and men looked down protectively and romantically on women. (I think and hope: allow me my dreams.)

If any designer has the power to recreate such a fashion moment, it must surely be Marchesa. Their stunning eveningwear, inspired by vintage and Asian flavours, screams opulent, high fashion princess – is there any other? Their Resort collection boasts Grecian and bateau necklines, full tulle skirts and beautiful organza. Cascading fabrics dominate the collection in stunning ivory, jade, gold and fuchsia. They even provide plush party dresses with their notte by Marchesa collection – short and sweet with plenty of ruffles.




But, the dress for this summer is all about the tea. Paisley, dotty or floral, it all works. High Street retailers are doing this the best at the moment - Topshop appear to be the front-runners - with Kate Moss's help - but Oasis must surely be given a mention. Sara Berman's new collection at ASOS is causing a stir with her cute and affordable tea dresses.



Mademoiselle Coco Chanel once said, 'Never do anything by halves.' I believe that this must be said of our fashion forward wardrobe. Dressing for a sparkling soiree or on the European beaches this summer, don't do your outfit in halves; wear the dress.