STOP

I have to stop, seriously stop. Stop buying clothes, this is not some fatuous post either about 'oh naughty me I can't close my wardrobe door', no it is way deeper than that, it's about using clothes to plaster over the cracks in my life and I guess I am starting to notice as my life slowly moves to a slightly more comfortable place, maybe.
It started on Saturday, I have been so good and I have loved London so much over these past few Saturdays so why the breakdown? Whilst in Berlin we stayed 500m from COS but not once did I go in because I knew the exchange rate was so poor it would not be worth it, so instead I enjoyed Berlin, my intention was to visit galleries in London on Saturday but instead caught the first bus I could to COS, like a fly to shit, I just have no self control. I tried on everything and stood there and I realised I have all of it, in one guise or another, so why, why was I standing there shrouded once more in black?
I have an addiction, but to what? To an image of what I wish I was? But I already have it so why was I buying more? I would like to say I had the self control to walk away but I was so smitten by a drapey cardie I succumbed. Then onto Miss Selfridge to return a dress for Kitty, I spy a pair of shorts, I want them ,I need them, and then I think but when the hell would I ever wear them? When? for 2 weeks a year in Cornwall, so I walk away.
Top Shop I see a necklace, I love it, I want it, but it has a cheap catch and it is £60 effing pounds so I leave it.
I go to Uniqlo and try on another 8 dresses none of them fit but I do buy a cardie to wear with the the myriad of dresses I already have since the 10 long cardies I have don't look right. And I realise that all I'm seriously unhinged and I have to STOP.

Oh, and these, but they are SO lovely....Now I know you can wash them they are a god send and these grey ones have black trimmings so I may just get away with them for work.
But that's it no more, not forever but for a while, not because it's wasting my money, which it is and not because I have enough which I do. No, I have to stop because I have better things to do with my life than chase another bloody black tunic dress. I failed to go to a single gallery, I wasted the whole day to scratch an itch that was barely there at all and afterwards I felt stupid and shallow.
All this came to me yesterday when I went to the open house weekend in Dulwich, I have to focus on the here and now, the place I live and my work, and stop shopping.

The view from here

This is the sea! For most of our stay it was like glass, and around the coast of Dorset the sea is particularly clear with some beautiful colours reflected by the amazingly blue sky.

I am an inveterate bird watcher but rarely manage to capture them on camera, but the cormorants sunbathing above were so still it was easy keep in mind they were way down in the sea and I was way high up on the cliff.

And below a fluke shot of a seagull landing.

Unusually for a seaside town Weymouth has some lovely green spaces along the top of the cliff by the fort, so you get just a brief feel of the seasons unlike St Ives, where little is green apart from the exotic trees and window boxes.

One of the benefits of early morning dog walking is views like this

and this view of the Georgian seafront

This has to be the ginkiest road sign ever especially since statistically the most harm inflicted on children will be by someone they know and think they can trust.

This amazing sight was in Abbotsbury where many of the cottages are thatched.

I called this one Mint Sauce...mmmm

My sister wanted to visit Durdle Door and we chose THE hottest day of the year to go, we stupidly decided to walk back to Weymouth along the coastal path, just a 10 mile stroll!!! How insane? Yes, Mother did throw a strop, and yes, she did spoil it, we ended up walking inland to find flatter fields with no view but which she was able to walk across, rather than the triganomic function graph my sister had chosen for her.

What we should have done is got the bus there and back and just jumped into this enticing cove, instead we did the walk stopping for lunch in a pub with the commercial nous of a MacDonald's.

Isn't it lovely?

Kitty was a dream this holiday, she is so different now that the heady bitchy adolescent days are over, that said she is still a conundrum, I caught her wearing 2 year old bra a size too small that had even given her a rash. Only then could she face up to the fact that she had grown, she really struggles with the idea she is getting older, yet bizarrely can't wait for her school day's to be over. Kitty hates school, lacking any academic inclination she has struggled both in and out of the classroom, she has little in common with her classmates and has become increasingly reclusive. I hope she finds a Job that brings her a little more happiness as it breaks my heart to see her so low.

Another day another beach and another griping moaning Mother, this time Chesil beach, we had intended to visit a local tropical garden but it was nearly £10 to get in, which with all of us was nearly £60, which was ridiculous, so I suggested a picnic on Chesil beach instead, it was less than 2 bloody miles but did she moan? YES, so whilst Kitty and I sat on the ridge they skulked below on a scrubby bit of grass before walking back to wait for the bus home which was one whole effing hour late... Another nail in Dorset's coffin

When I was a child my gran had a gravel path which she would refresh every now and again with a lorry load of gravel, we used to laugh our heads off trying to get to her house, if you have ever walked on loose gravel you will know why.

That top again, and had she made the effort she would have had her lunch looking out over this amazing view. I was brought to this coastline a great deal as a child, I have photographs of me in a bathing suit sitting on gravelly beaches whilst my geologist father abandoned us to tap with his hammer on bits of rock. Mother clearly does not view these memories through rose tinted glasses and instead sees them as evidence of a abandonment by my father, a thread that clearly ran through their entire marriage. Still I loved it here, but I guess it will back to Suffolk next Easter where the hills are flat!

Lemlem

A page of lust all from here

Chance

This via here Looks a lovely place to shop for my favourite stripes.

These images are lovely too

My fantasy lust basket.

Summer Style...not

Even though I know I look better in a shorter top with trousers I am like a moth to a flame with tunics, I also think I still have a problem with the camera angle because it makes me look like I'm leaning back even when I know I'm not, Plus what's with those dead arms, they just sit there no wonder everyone pulls silly poses, it's the only was to get rid of those lifeless appendages. oh for some pockets. I shall give it one more go before giving up. Alternatively I'm a crap dresser and the photo never lies..

I have 3 more Up Town Saturday's with Leyla before being confined to barracks, which is no bad thing as I could do with shedding a few pounds in the gym. Tomorrow I may head for Somerset House to see the left over photography stuff from lasts weeks big bash here. My sister has lured me to Dulwich on Sunday to have a snoop and look at some art in the Artists Open House weekend. I love a good nosey in other peoples houses so I should have some fun and may steal some piccy's too with my new toy.

I am just LOVING the fall out over the Grazia cover this week see here for some fun. It has cured me once and for all of what was a ridiculous addiction to something that promoted so much that is either ridiculous or sycophantic. I stupidly bought this week it having missed all the special supplements of the wedding despite pleading with Kitty to pick me ap' a Sunday paper. I could see it was a mess and had to explain to Kitty just how bad the Photoshopping was. All that money and that is the best they could do. Inside is even worse with a laughable spread featuring the owner of Jigsaw whose outfit made her look like an aged aunt putting the final nail into that coffin too.

My best buy of the week was to subscribe to NYTimes, I really love their website and this beautiful apartment is house porn at it's very best.

An excellent photography website worth a look is In-Public a subject close to my heart and I have decided to try and group 20 images I've taken that I feel best represents my response to street photography, later of course after raking through the Berlin photographs, it's no wonder I haven't painted much this year.

How the hell did we get to May so soon?

Talking of May I am 5 years old.. can you believe it? 5 whole years, it has become a bit of an obsession and yet I feel sure it keeps me sane, plus I don't take it home with me so at least I am only hooked during the day my lunch break! I never thought it would keep going so long, but I have never run out of images to share or things to say and best of all I really feel although my painting has taken a real hit this year my photography is getting better and better not least because I have begun to understand how I react with people and places which in turn gives me a greater sense of confidence. Sartorial style despite evidence to the contrary is better too again I have a much better sense of what I want to wear and make far fewer mistakes. So here's to five more years...!

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside...

How to describe Weymouth? I have pondered this conundrum for far too long whilst walking the dog, would I go back? Absolutely not, yet it is a place not without a little charm, only it's buried deep, deep undercover.

What you have is a small Tudor harbour that has expanded into a large fishing town, add to this a royal palace built by George III overlooking with a sweeping Georgian terrace facing the wide promenade sea front which is home to a beautiful sandy beach. The sand here is so fine as to be almost classified as silt! So what went wrong? I guess the sixties happened and cheap nasty B&B's took over along with corrupt council officials and what was once lovely is now a nasty dirty car riddled nightmare town.

I tried so very hard to capture the spirit of Weymouth but I fear others have done it better, not least the amazing photographer Paul Russell who has a much better grip on the place, although looking back I think I may have given him a run for his money, but I did have glorious sunshine on my side. The red stripe top was by far and away my most favourite apparel, I lived in it and loved it along with my boyfriend jeans, both perfect for the seaside.


Cath Kidston is fairly ubiquitous around the English coastline but here sightings were rarer than normal and in fact the clothes shops here were the worst I have ever encountered, the town planners here have all but destroyed a beautiful regency town and turned it into a generic high street, a complete disgrace, if you could see the beautiful bones they had to work with....

I don't think you could ever mistake this town for anywhere other than England, there are flags everywhere. Not just for the wedding but all the time, and more so as the Olympics will arrive next year fore the sailing events.

Catching these two was not easy as they span round but I love the way my niece's candy floss fringe flew back.

The place we stayed was the best we have rented so far and it even had a balcony hence we rarely ventured to the beach, Kitty and my niece Ellie loved to walk the dog along the waters edge each night, and I too walked him long and hard so he was exhausted enough to sleep through the night. We all got on well and took it in turns to cook and for the first time ever did not end the holiday with a celebratory meal out, why? There was nowhere with even a tiny smidgen of atmosphere, you either slummed it in the pubs or had to sit in stiflingly formal restaurants and as someone who can get somewhat animated we gave it a miss this year. The pubs are great fun though, but just stick to the cider and pork scratchings!

The view from here

There was a book that really struck a chord when I was young, about a house that became so swamped by the city it virtually disappeared, eventually someone came and put the house on a lorry and took it back to the countryside where it lived happily ever after.
I think the book must have been called The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton and when I saw this house around the back of the Tate Modern it all came flooding back to me.

How sad does this house look?
I took these photographs the day after I signed off this blog for the Easter break, it was a sad lacklustre day so I found little to excite me.

I went to see Moonlight at the Donmar Warehouse which was a very esoteric piece of play writing and poor value for money as it only ran for 1hour and 10 mins! I have been trying to get out of my 16th century play rut but whenever I dip my toe into the 20th century I am always left slightly disappointed.

This century has been far more rewarding and I am hugely pleased that Jerusalem has been a big hit in NY.

I have never ever seen such a stylish child, she seriously looked amazing and so young too.

Moi of course, my favourite default outfit has become the striped COS tunic with some Zara trousers, I don't know why but I love it especially with the dipped dyed grey COS scarf and that heavenly Agnes B necklace.

When even I go away I am always struck by just how much more graffiti there is in other cities, maybe I just don't register it here as much o r maybe our graffiti is just so much better...who let the jingoistic genie out the bottle again?

Way back on my last visit to Paris I photographed a shop that looked particularly lovely filled with all my favourite thing's all be it too small and trop cher, but Loft is now in London and looks very appetising. but not as amazing as this next shop.

I have read about Egg before but have never made the trip, so with time on my hands I decided it was time to see what all the fuss was about, and unlike many overly hyped shops this was truly worth the trip. It is such a divine space the clothes are a slice of heaven and for the first time Itched to try on and buy a £200 dress, but what a dress. Sadly I felt like I was interrupting a private party and couldn't face the embarrassment of struggling in a changing room with an audience waiting to eat cake and drink tea so I left. if you have money and no kids it is the best place to get that Japanese vibe.