RETURNING SHAMEFACED

Hola! After a week of lazily sunning myself poolside then partying it down in Spain, and a day or two to recover from my immense tiredness, I have returned to the arid desert that is my blog. I hope not all readers have cast their anchors and abandoned ship, as I have no more holidays planned... for now.

To the subject at hand, Spanish is undoubtedly one of the least style-orientated countries I have ever visited, but there were a fair few pairs of silk patterned hammer pants circulating the cities, perhaps the Mediterranean alternative to the oh so attractive British white linen trouser.

Just a re-introduction really, I would share holiday snaps but nobody needs to see me either in a bikini, nor jumping around in a drunken manner and dancing on tables, perhaps the only girls who bothered to don heels. No offence if you are a Stylish Spaniard, hats off to you for powering through the multitudes of fashion tragedies!

Some of my favourite sandals, Proenza Schouler, Balmain and Givenchy.

P.S. I need a new candidate for the Secret Life quiz. Email camillashoeshine@live.co.uk your answers to the questions posed in previous posts.

SECRET LIFE QUIZ: Nadia of We Were Damsels

The first guest answers are here, and I am jetting off to the oh so glamorous Majorca for a cheap, boozy holiday to celebrate the end of the tiresome and wearing boredom of College, exams, and certainties in my life.

These answers are of Nadia, one half of those incredibly coiffured and cheek-boned Damsels in something less than distress. If you haven't checked out their blog, you should definitely get over there and lose yourself in their incredible style and witty wording. And now for her response!

WHEN I WAS A CHILD I WANTED TO BE... really young ? an ice skater

MY GREATEST INSPIRATION... in life ? other people .

MY STYLE ICON...Charlotte Gainsbourg, Victoria Beckham . Amy Winehouse.

THE SHOP I CAN'T WALK PAST... Hmm any thrift store

A BOOK THAT CHANGED ME...Crime and Punishment and the hours also the short story THE WALL by Sartre

THE LAST ALBUM I BOUGHT... Bibio Ambivalence avenue

THE PERSON WHO REALLY MAKES ME LAUGH... my BF , My friend Cathy and Laritza

IT'S NOT FASHIONABLE BUT I LIKE... ripped tights and cigarettes

MY FAVOURITE ITEM OF CLOTHING... Don't have one , my shoes are my faves

MY FAVOURITE PAIR OF SHOES... no way can i ever choose

THE ITEM I WEAR AGAIN AND AGAIN... bleach jeans and my ck flannel shirt

YOU WOULDN'T KNOW IT BUT I'M GOOD AT... cleaning. astrology ?

ALL MY MONEY GOES ON... shoes , saving for my rebel

MY MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION IS... hmmmmmmm? dunno

MY FAVOURITE PLACE IS... SOY a restaurant

MOVIE HEAVEN... The Hours , Beautiful Mind , Rudo y Cursi

I WISH I'D NEVER WORN... anything from 12-15 yrs of age

MY LIFE IN SIX WORDS...high, low , depressing , interesting ,crazy ,and funny

See y'all in a week!

THE SECRET LIFE QUIZ...

I will be asking bloggers to complete this for me and then will post it on my blog, rather than them posting it on theirs. Please email me your own answers to these questions on camillashoeshine@live.co.uk along with your name and blog address, and I will post it on this blog. I will complete it first to start it off and provide the questions.

WHEN I WAS A CHILD I WANTED TO BE... my sister, and a writer.
MY GREATEST INSPIRATION... in writing, Donna Tartt and the Canonical texts.
MY STYLE ICON... Kate Moss, Emanuelle Alt, Julia Restoin Roitfeld, Rachael McAdams.
THE SHOP I CAN'T WALK PAST... Topshop, 'Magic', the vintage shop in my town, and charity shops. Waterstones.
A BOOK THAT CHANGED ME... Donna Tartt's the Secret History, and Hamlet.
THE LAST ALBUM I BOUGHT... Paolo Nutini: Sunny Side Up, and the Maccabees: Wall of Arms.
THE PERSON WHO REALLY MAKES ME LAUGH... Michael McIntyre, the writers of Green Wing and The Mighty Boosh.
IT'S NOT FASHIONABLE BUT I LIKE... BIG woolly jumpers and tramping around the countryside in wellies.
MY FAVOURITE ITEM OF CLOTHING... my Sequinned Jacket, but possibly soon the leather jacket I'm getting for my birthday.
MY FAVOURITE PAIR OF SHOES... My H&M Wedges, and all of them really, universally.
THE ITEM I WEAR AGAIN AND AGAIN... at the moment, my grey Roisin Murphy for fashion against aids body/leotard.
YOU WOULDN'T KNOW IT BUT I'M GOOD AT... Writing... erm, housework?
ALL MY MONEY GOES ON... clothes/shoes/alcohol.
MY MOST VAUABLE POSSESSION IS... A ring and a desk I inherited.
MY FAVOURITE PLACE IS... anywhere in a book, watching the sun rise.
MOVIE HEAVEN... The Notebook, Forrest Gump.
I WISH I'D NEVER WORN... a green 'Laura' dress for topshop, and a brown maxi-skirt... not together, but still hiiiideous.
MY LIFE IN SIX WORDS... Drunkenly, headily dancing through life's challenges.

JANE ALDRIDGE

A variation on "WHAT the Dickens?" was my first and foulmouthed reaction to the fact that Jane Aldridge, seventeen year old blogger and owner of shit hot shoes probably collectively worth more than my house, had collaborated with Urban Outfitters to design a shoe collection. I mean, she's younger than me! Although she has illustrated talent it is noticeably lifted from her Prada boots and her Ann Demulemeesters, but that's no bad thing, as in the same way Kate Moss lifter her ideas for her first Topshop collection from her own wardrobe.

On the actual shoes, despite the fact I think of peep-toe boots as an abhorration and I don't tend to consider knee length boots as incredibly unflattering on my figure, the boots are actually quite nice, and I love the tongue detailing as it just above the rest of the boot (although I would never, ever buy them because I HATE PEEP TOE BOOTS). They really remind me of her Prada booties. The flats are sweet and the Demulemeester-esque lacing makes them more interesting than any plain black ballet flats, but I can't help but thing of black leather flats as an inherently schooly item. Especially with laces. The gladiators are 'fierce' and ever so Balmain, and I kinda love them but just WISH they had a platform! I have to say generally I like them and take my hat off to her for doing something so amazing at such a young age. Anyway, there isn't much more to say about them and although you've probably seen them on her blog, I will re-post the images here.

NOTE: IF ANYBODY WOULD BE INTERESTED IN PARTICIPATING IN A BLOGGER 'SURVEY' OR, MORE APT, QUESTIONNAIRE I WOULD BE HUGELY GRATEFUL SO EITHER COMMENT ME OR SEND ME AN EMAIL TO CAMILLASHOESHINE@LIVE.CO.UK AND I WILL EMAIL THE QUESTIONS TO YOU. THANKS A BUNDLE.

IN REAL LIFE

PROUST quiz, lifted and thrifted from 4TH AND BLEEKER

WHAT IS YOUR IDEA OF PERFECT HAPPINESS? Watching the sun rise, reading a book in my attic bedroom while listening to the rain drumming and drumming on the velux windows, writing, writing, writing. Buying shoes and watching the notebook. WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST FEAR? Complete and utter loneliness, and having thin hair. WHAT IS THE TRAIT YOU MOST DEPLORE IN YOURSELF? My lack of drive in life, my obsessive shopping, and my innate and inescapable ability to mess up or taint everything beautiful. WHAT IS THE TRAIT YOU MOST DEPLORE IN OTHERS? Misogyny, The judgementality of people's attitude to life, and the complete lack of respect some people have for humanity, beauty and other people's happiness. WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST EXTRAVAGANCE? The way I choose to dress, drink, eat and live life to the fullest. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT STATE OF MIND? Listless, relieved and happy somewhere deep down. ON WHAT OCCASION DO YOU LIE? When I lie to myself, otherwise I'm annoyingly frank and moral. WHAT DO YOU DISLIKE MOST ABOUT YOUR APPEARANCE? Sometimes the look in my eyes, I have a love/hate relationship with my scars, and the size of my stomach. WHICH LIVING PERSON DO YOU MOST DESPISE? BNP voters and whoever initiated the idea of peep-toe-boots. WHAT IS THE QUALITY DO YOU MOST LIKE IN A MAN? Complete loveliness, genuineness and being able to instigate and crack a really good smile; the ability to make themselves the centre of my universe. WHAT QUALITY DO YOU MOST LIKE IN A WOMAN? Complete loveliness, reliability and the ability to make me forget the bad things in the world. WHICH WORDS OR PHRASES DO YOU MOST OVERUSE? 'Oh, man!', 'I nearly died', 'It's SUCH a good book' WHICH TALENT WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO HAVE? The ability to read minds, I would be able to choose to turn it on and off. WHAT DO YOU CONSIDER YOUR GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT? My self, my life, my writing. WHAT IS YOUR MOST TREASURED POSSESSION? My sequined jacket, my dogs, my diamond ring I was given when I was a bridesmaid. WHAT DO YOU MOST VALUE IN FRIENDS? That they always make me smile, that I can have SO much fun with them, that I don't have to pretend to be somebody else around them, that I can trust them, and that they can see through people's flaws and love them anyway. WHO ARE YOUR FAVOURITE WRITERS? Donna Tartt, Oscar Wilde, Byron... writers whose work has changed me somehow. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO? Life is too important to be taken seriously.

ON THE LOSS OF A SHOE.

STUMBLING in at some unGodly hour in the morning and falling into bed, only to realise when waking up no more than two hours after you first fell asleep that not only did you lose your rather expensive telelphone but also your purse the night before. But you still smile; at the heady summer evening, at the romantic prospects, at your incredible friends, at dancing the night away. And, optimistic about life and the world, you skip downstairs almost merrily, if not slightly queasily...

Only to realise the dog and it's six week old puppies have teamed up and meticulously destroyed your second-favourite and almost daily-worn shoes.

It may well be good to be you, but it is NOT good to be them right now!

AN ELEGY; ON THE LOSS OF A SHOE.

OH, Golden shoes,

I will miss you,

and the blisters on my toes,

and the glitter on the soles

of my feet.

OH, Glittery shoes,

How I loved you,

And the clicking soud you made,

and the way you caught the rays

of the sun.

IN LOVING MEMORY

ENVY

OK, I love my shoes. They aren't very plentiful, nor very good quality, but they serve me well and make my life a little more bearable and beatiful. Granted, a little more painful on top of that. Sometimes, though, I gaze at my shoe collection and feel a pang of discontent at it's meagre nature and the fact that it could be so much more... and I find myself just hating those people, those people who have jobs and lots of money, or just lots of money, and incredible shoe collections. I know it isn't the key to happiness, but money is important in the modern world. I know I say 'those people', and I mean those people like Jane Aldridge, who is younger than me and has better shoes that I could possibly ever hope for. People like Rumi, like Karla and the like, most of all Hanh, of Life in Travel. Here are a few snapshots of her extensive, expensive shoe collection.

WARNING: Green eyes and transformation into a monstrosity possible/imminent.

THE SELBY; LAURA RULE(S)

OK, Guys, Dolls, Ladies and various other slang terms, by way of adressing you 'readers'. I have a confession to make, from the deep dark of my real life as I sit and watch two worryingly overweight puppies chase a bluebottle around the kitchen. I don't have, like, a superhot photographer 'boyf' who's, like, sooo arty and awesome, and, like, makes me look fit in photos and shit. No, that's something I don't have. This is probably the reason I don't post photos of outfits (yes, I realise, early in the day, but it's not like this is my first blog or anything), and so in response to whatever enquiries have been directed at me, I will not be posting outfits until my Knight with Shining SLR rolls up in a really nice car. And let's be honest, kiddo, I dress well, I'm a fashion narcissist. They'll be GOOD. Hold onto your seats for my whirlwind summer romance. Anywhichwhat, onto the nub and gist of it;

Laura Rule; Art Director, Maverick and owner of damn good shoes, bigging it up in the LDN with John LIU, hairdresser, straight man, rumoured sexual legend. Hell she RULES, like scrunchies and crop tops ruled ten years ago. Thats right kids, crop tops do NOT 'rule' now. PERFECTION in the form of shoe photography by the man, the myth and the superhero, Todd Selby, Plagiarised with loving care and attention by a lowly shoeshine girl in naught but pained admiration and heartbreaking desire. Engross yourself, enjoy yourself... x Camilla. OH I told you my name, shocking horrifying revelation. NO it isn't the same name as her off Childhood Flames, there's like, a different VOWEL* at the end.

*Vowels; a, e, i, o, u. Cause you never know what people might not know.

WEATHER OR NOT

I often harbour the perverse wish that summer wouldn't roll back around; my love for layering, trousers, knitwear, fur and boots is far too strong to be embodied for only six measly months per year, and to be hidden cruelly way for equally as long as that, crying out to be relived. I always seem to forget that in England, 'summer' does not mean lazy long evenings and floaty dresses, and although we sporadically relish this most of the time we require a lighter version of winter wear; boots are perfect for rain and snow, for November drizzle and the torrential bursting of summer storms mid-June. It is, in fact, raining as I type, which is what inspired me to write this post.

If I were able to afford any boots, these would be my choice, the perfect 'punch', the incredible details... for want of more eloquence, 'swoon'.

These are my favourite ankle boots; a Christmas present, and although comparatively cheap, well out of my proce range. They are a little too high and uncomfortable to enter every day wear, but every now and then, when an outfit calls for a little more attitidude, they are my alternative to a leather jacket, to a studded cuff or an outlandish tattoo. My own tattoo is far too pretty and subtle to be considered 'tough'.
I thought they complimented my newly bleached jeans perfectly, and so I will wear them whether or not it rains.

BOOTS: TOPSHOP, JEANS: DIY (TOPSHOP), VEST: VINTAGE, TOP: H&M

CLOWNING AROUND

The point of this blog is not about outfit posts; although dressing is a highly enjoyable ventue, and interest in fashion is strong, it is doubtful any of you would share an interest in what an average girl, with no particularly fabulous garments, is wearing. Also, posing for self-timed outfit shots feels painfully awkward, hence the very poor quality of them... Despite that, today I am showing you an outfit, just as an experiment; if it is not recieved well this genre of post will not be repeated; if it is I will expand more on the theme...

This jumpsuit is a sad affair; the sort of jumpsuit that gets put in the sale early because of it's slight oddness and its unplaceable flaws; either not bought or returned, an unprofitable item. The issue for me was and still is the bottom of the legs; the shapeless wide-leg rings too much of scary sixties hippies for my or anyones liking. Nevertheless I bought it, in the sale for a sort of price at which I can afford to buy a dubious item, about two months ago, and only now have I tackled the worrying trying to be bell-bottom legs. In the end I just tied bobbles around the bottom, but it looks a bit clownish... if I decide I like it I will elasticate them, but we will see.

SHOES; DOROTHY PERKINS, JUMPSUIT; TOPSHOP, GLASSES; RAY BAN

These are the loves and banes of my life.

Listening to; Let Me Know- Roisin Murphy

A SCRIPT

A girl sits at her laptop, a bored look on her face, revising. She is in a bad mood because she attempted to shorten a dress and it worked too well; the dress is now indecent, only Alexa Chung would even consider it. And the girl's legs were definitely not Alexa Chung-esque.

She has been avoiding revision all day; thanks to this artful dodging the house was immaculate, the lunch had been elaborate and her bedroom entirely rearranged, but now she had been forced to sit down and crack on with the tiresome task of learning and, you know, actually passing her exams, she felt a tiny bit sick.

Girl: I hate revision! I need to procrastinate and I need to procrastinate now!
Wind: Net-a-Pooooorter... Net-a-Pooooorter...
Girl: Hmm... maybe I will brows Net-a-Porter.
N-a-P: (aside) Yesss, we lured her in.
Wind: Shooooooooes... Shooooooooes...
Girl: Sigh... I might as well look at the shoes...
YSL Tribs: Well, hey-hey there good lookin! 'Aint your feet just fantastic! Hows about we try 'em on for size?
Girl: Oh Em Gee they have the Trib sandals... In my size... OH MY GAWD!
Wind: Buy them, do it, do it now!
Girl looks uncomfortable, she is shifting in her seat... she wants to do it SO badly...
Girl is about to do it, she is so close, her hand is itching to press buy, she knows nothing would make her happier, her heart is beating fast, bursting with joy...
Girl: OH, bugger. Mother took her credit card to London with her.

Disclaimer: This is not a true story, Tribs are far more eloquent and classy than this. And Net-a-Porter do not have YSL Tribute sandals in stock.

Photos; JAK&JIL.

I love the elegance of this shoe, and that lady wearing possibly the coolest trousers ever and the nicest shoes ever, who appears to have the best legs ever (I'm only guessing on that one, but fate's sly hand deals all the best cards to a select few people)? Yeah, her? She's my new arch-enemy. I shit you not, I'm going to hunt her down and kick her skinny, stylish, rich ass so there's one less person in the world for us all to be painfully jealous of.

Oh, you wanna know who else I'm really jealous of? Well. More than jealousy, a deep rooted envy and a kind of true love in a straight and purely admirable way. Julia Restoin Roitfeld. Yeah, the one and only. I love her, and check out her SHOE collection? It makes me sad. She's cool, yes, she has a cool mother, yes? This is like the royal family; none of them do anything to deserve royalty, except be born by the right woman. Humph. I am very stressed out, I shouldn't be allowed to write...

SLIP UP

"Maybe," I thought to myself this morning, as I revised mindlessly and stroked the puppy that was nestled on my knee in the manner of Dr. Evil stroking his cat. "Maybe I'll go into town and buy Harper's Bazaar, see my through the week,". And now the idea was planted there was no repressing it's growth, so I wandered up the road to the bus-stop in the most ridiculous amount of draping I could lay my hands on (think jersey harem pants, a baggy white t-shirt, a draped cardigan and a cape/coat with extra, sumptuous folds of material draped over the front and back)... my personal take on the 'I don't care if it's raining and I don't care if you think I am a living pile of dirty laundry. I LOVE DRAPING' kind of a look.
Once in town, with the depressingly slim magazine tucked under my arm (no bag! I'm saving the environment!) of course I had lots of time before the bus home arrived so I had a nonchalant browse of the charity shops in the area, and somehow found myself in the shoe department of Dorothy Perkins... this left me delirious and somewhat clouded my judgement, and when I spotted the basket-weave red platforms I had seen and admires on the otherwise infuriating Fearne Cotton, with £5 off, I accidentally bought them and bounced home with glee and a tiny bit of guilt... (I even had a bag... shoe boxes are a tricky thing to lug across the city). So I'm not going out tonight, I spent my alcohol on the shoes, but hey; saved myself a hangover and gave myself both a literal and metaphorical lift!
Once home, opening the box I crossed my fingers I would find these, by a stroke of insane luck and a bit of magic from the footwear fairy...

But no, sadly that was not the case. I'll settle for these anyway.

THE BEGINNING OF AN INFATUATION.

Once upon a time there was a girl; she was not exactly a princess, although she spoke and dressed like she was, and she wasn't exactly a pauper, though her banker thought she probably was. The girl had a problem; a very serious problem. She was addicted to shoes. She first met them on the pages of Vogue; sliding slightly off the tanned, dainty foot of the model in the Valentino dress; prancing down a runway, peeping from the bottom of a glamorous maxi dress, defining a foot at the end of a glittery pair of trousers... she saw them everywhere, her heart ached and her bank account scorned her. Shoes became her broken heart, a neglectful boyfriend, an estranged husband.

It wasn't like she didn't have enough shoes, her small bedroom was brimming with them; what she lacked in outfits she made up for in fabulous footwear, but none of it was quite satisfying enough... There was something missing, her feet craved more. The high street labels made her angry, she despised the fraying seams and the 'pleather'... her most expensive shoes were originally incredible but after a week seemed dull and somehow flawed, she needed perfection, she wanted more, and she knew what it would have to be... in her sleep (and while she was awake) she dreamed of the shimmering red soles of Louboutin, the heart-aching shapes of Kirkwood and the classic beauty of Yves Saint Laurent. She would not be satisfied until she had these things, and she knew she could never rest without them. There must be something she could do...

Does anybody else feel like this?!

photos; Jak&Jil