Dancer. Innovator. Style icon. Prince was everything.
His impact on the world is too massive to measure, from his influence on the world of modern music to his feminist messages and his bloody amazing clothes. I saw Prince in 2014... Not just down the shops or anything, I was actually in an arena with about 13000 other people. But still, I saw him. And, God, he was amazing. So as well as sobbing to Purple Rain today let's remember the sexiest man to ever exist and some of his most stylish moments. We love you forever Prince.
A pink suit... Because why the hell not
No man ever has, or will, pull off a crop top quite like Prince
Ughhh. It's that time of year again. This might be an unpopular opinion, so I am sorry in advance. But I hate Coachella. I know- I said I'm sorry. Yes in theory it's all lovely, and I'm sure I'd love to be one of it's young, rich attendees, frolicking in the Californian sun. But I am not one of them. So instead I stare at the English rain through my window whilst googling pictures of said festival and wondering what the hell they are wearing, and just how many more flower garlands I can stand looking at.
I almost didn't recognise Stacey from the office under that bandana. She really looks different outside of work.
It's not fair for me to say it's just Coachella. Festival fashion in general has become one of the biggest burdens of my generation. Why is it that for three days a year people seem to forget everything they have ever thought about the clothes that they choose to put on their bodies and instead adorn themselves with glitter and paint and flowers with wild abandon. That's not you the real you, Becky- you hate flowers, and have only worn black since 2010. Queen of Coachella Vanessa Hudgens (if you type in Hudgens' name to a search engine the next suggested word is Coachella, need I say more) is one of my personal favourite examples of festival fashion and what it has become. With bindis aplenty and hair so long it rivals Chloe Mafia's hair extensions, (if you don't know- please Google) without fail every year for two weekends in May, Hudgens could resemble a girl from Slough who has popped into her local Topshop and purchased without consideration every single item from the highstreet fave's 'Festival Range'. Love heart sunglasses: check, cut off denim shorts: check, Native American headdress replica: check.
And here she is. The Queen of Coachella herself Rocking some items that no festival outfit is complete without.
And I don't have a solution to this problem. I wish I could say I knew the answer to festival fashion and what one should really be wearing, but I don't. I still make very regrettable clothes choices the minute I enter the festival gates, and am already having sleepless nights over packing for Glastonbury. I can only assume that that this trend for festival fashion was born out of the copious amounts of alcohol consumed in these fields, and I have similarly made a lot of questionable decisions after too much wine from a box, so maybe I shouldn't judge. And until a solution is reached (Alexa Chung and Kate Moss always look pretty bloody good at a festival to be fair) I guess keep releasing your inner Coachella everyone. Stick on those bindis, apply those temporary tattoos and fasten up your bum bag. Just remember to be ready to untag the pictures as soon as they're uploaded to Facebook on Monday. Images: Tumblr (obvs)
Thomas Cohen is back. He released the video for his upcoming single Bloom Forever at the end of January which was just what everyone needed to help haul them out of the depths of mid-January despair at the fact that yes, it's still bloody freezing outside and, no, you still haven't lost the half a stone you put on over Christmas.
Debuting not only his solo single but his new haircut, Cohen is back on form, seen lying on a Dali-esque lip sofa and swinging his microphone, and never has awkward, offbeat dancing looked so sexy. Although his ripped jeans and snake skin boots may read like something from a MissGuided look book, Cohen proves once again that he knows how to nail effortless cool.
Viv Albertine, I love you so much. Even though she grew up more than forty years before me, never have I related to something so much than when reading her autobiography.
vivalbertine.com
First of all the title is good enough anyway, I mean it pretty much sums up my life, the contents of the group chat I have with my mates (minus some bits about food and pooing) and the thoughts of any teenage girl that has ever walked the earth. As well as being an amazing music biography and an insight into what it was really like to be in London in the seventies, Albertine discusses some of the best fashion moments of the decade, and most importantly, gives the most honest portrayal of what it is truly like to be a teenage girl that I have ever read. Men, women, boys and girls should all read this book. It is moving and funny, and if nothing else, it might help you to understand adolescent girls a bit more. Viv Albertine, you're the coolest woman ever.
It flashed up on my news app alerts and I swiped it away without reading it. It's an automatic reaction for me because the updates are normally some bullshit about David Cameron or something else that I equally don't want to read. But then I stopped for a second. I didn't want to reopen the page. I didn't want it to confirm what I thought I had just read. It was about 6:30 on a Monday morning, I was on my way to New York City. And David Bowie was dead. I looked around the coach almost frantically. It couldn't be true. The majority of the coach were asleep but I didn't understand it. How could he be dead? How could he be not alive any more and everyone else just be sat here like normal, like the whole world hadn't just changed.
David Bowie was a hero. He was my hero. (No crappy pun intended, I'm normally a big pun fan, but I'm still a bit too sad for that.) I don't really know a time when he wasn't in my life. My mum used to play him on a homemade mixed tape in the car when we were little and since then I've not stopped listening. I could go on about my favourite songs, and favourite eras, and favourite outfits. But nobody wants to here that. Everyone loves Bowie, and everyone has their own thoughts on how his music made them feel and how his work inspired them. And plus if I think about it too much I might cry. I know it sounds ridiculous. After I discovered The Beatles as a kid and subsequently found out that John Lennon was already dead I was pretty cut up about that too. It's the curse of being a fan girl. So, instead I'm just going to say thanks for all the endless amazingness that Bowie brought into this little football we call planet Earth. And, that he will never really die. The proof of that is already here in the countless artists, musicians, designers and stylists that he continues to inspire today and will forever. Long live David Bowie. xxx
As everyone was still eating mice pies last night, the devastating news came in that Motörhead front man and general legend, Lemmy Kilmister had died after being diagnosed with cancer on Boxing Day.
Photograph- IBTimes
And as the world of music sadly mourns the loss of one of its greats I think its only right that we look back and remember some of his finest moments both in music, fashion, and life. He himself said in his book, White Line Fever, "People don't become better when they're dead; you just talk about them as if they are. But it's not true! People are still assholes, they're just dead assholes!"But there's no denying it Lemmy, you were pretty brilliant. Everyone take note, this man knew what he was on about. "If you didn't do anything that wasn't good for you it would be a very dull life. What are you gonna do? Everything that is pleasant in life is dangerous."
"There was a magazine in England who said I screwed 2,000 women and I didn’t; I said 1,000. When you think about it, it isn't that unreasonable."
"I don't do regrets. Regrets are pointless. It's too late for regrets. You've already done it, haven't you? You've lived your life. No point wishing you could change it."
"Religion is stupid anyway. I mean, a virgin gets pregnant by a ghost! You would never get away with that in a divorce court, would you?" "I don't think it's fair to be waving your dick around when people are minding their own business and might not want to see it."Well, I can't argue with that last one.
On Wednesday night London-reared band The Maccabees started their 'Marks to Prove It' tour, playing their first date in Nottingham's very own Rock City. So, I dragged myself out of the comfort of my single bed and braved hurricane Barney (finding a both hurricane and gig appropriate outfit is a surprisingly hard challenge by the way) to catch Orlando Weeks and co. in action.
The Maccabees performing Something like Happiness on 'Later with Jools Holland'
Being 5ft 3, gigs for me are normally spent dancing to my favourite songs whilst enjoying the view of a balding man's head. If I'm lucky I can sometimes catch a glimpse of the band through a half drunk beer cup or the screen of someone's phone. But it was on Wednesday, as I was desperately straining to see the band, that I realised that the person I really wanted to witness in action was lead singer, Orlando Weeks. And that got me thinking, what is it about a lead singer, and in particular their style, that is so irresistible?
Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with a drummer, and I like a bass player as much as the next girl but it's undeniable that there's something about lead singers. Alexa Chung herself admitted to only ever having dated the lead singers of rock bands. They're often elusive creatures, with a Midas touch making everything they touch turn to cool. Let's call it the Mick Jagger effect. And Weeks doesn't disappoint.
I'm not sure if the first time they stand in front of a microphone lead singers are presented with some sort of bible on effortless style but they generally nail it every time. Since first emerging in late 2006, Weeks' style has evolved with his music, growing from parka-clad indie kid to his all black and denim uniform of today. And like so many of his kind, Weeks' has perfected the formula for always looking good. The combination of attention to detail (see the hoop earring, the buttoning of his shirt) whilst still maintaining his air of nonchalance is enviable; the best rock stars will always make you question whether or not they have just rolled out of bed or a bar.
http://fashionfinder.asos.com/
But does it really matter what a lead singer wears? Or will whatever the latest rock star comes out on stage in just always look good? Let's face it someone is always going to look approximately 90% cooler holding a guitar.
But, in my opinion, a rock star's not doing it right unless everybody else wants to look like them. And that includes girls. My obsession with musicians and their style is not just part of a romantic day dream (of course it partly is, call me any time Orlando). I want to wear what they wear. Is that weird? I've recently realised is the best indication for if I fancy someone, famous or not, is if I'm dressing exactly like them...
