Wednesday, 21 September 2011

Burberry Makes Me Believe in God. Except not quite, cause we still have PE classes



To begin with, I apologize in advance for the abundance of pictures. They're just....... so beautiful. *Dashes away tears in the Jane Austen manner, with monogrammed handkerchief*

Where to begin.
Because I've been working on a slightly dull-as-all-hell math project lately, let me put it to y'all in one simple-as-all-hell formula.

skinny,tight-fitting, long-sleeved shirts + colourful/graphic prints + classic Burberry-style sex-bombery = I WANT IT


This one especially. Oh, Jourdan Dunn, I am turquoise with envy..... (oh I kill myself with my wit.) Seriously, though, who knew you could make a trench coat so..... tight? Like I said, pure and unadulterated sex-bombery, cinched in with a nigh-on fetishistic belt. Subtle, but "packs a punch", a phrase I despise under normal circumstances. But here, I must admit, it is quite apt.

And the hats are just the cherry on top, almost literally. They are on the edge of superfluous -- if Christopher Bailey had decided to make them even a modicum more colourful they could have thrown the whole thing off -- but in muted shades they just make the whole shebang more quirky (I hate that word, but for want of a better one...) and oh-I-just-played-doubles-with-my-pal-Yasmin Le Bon-it-was-divine-but-I-gotta-go-the Vaccines-invited-me-to-go-have-drinks-backstage-with-them. Like a boss.




Again with the graphic prints -- they are everywhere, and I'm sure as hell not complaining. Anything that makes an icky autumn in London seem more like a safari in Central Africa with Garance Doré sounds A-OK.

E

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