Urban Aspirations

Lily Allen’s social/style aspirations are expressed most succinctly though her clothes. Middle-class with a desire to be urban: prom dress with trainers and bling; and through the way she talks: generally well-spoken with ‘street’ add-ons: police = ‘fiwf’, and there is a laboured missing out of ‘t’s. Fuck a bit of slang though, the main crime she commits is ruining the credibility of good dresses (Luella summer 06, gingham) by wearing them with trainers. It’s like no, really you ARE actually wearing Luella, you ain’t fooling anyone with a pair of reeboks, or with your street affectations in ya’ lingo. However, to do, as that soulful man Usher, and our Tony B do best, the U-turn, I will say that I understand that hankering to mix genres of clothes.
I do it on occasion for several reasons:

1) a reluctance to admit that I am trying to dress up represented by a token (and unconvincing) casualisation of an outfit which involves a selection of the following:

- wearing flats or plimsolls when heels would look better,
- mismatching hooped or other earrings,
- wearing a neon hoodie,
- and/or a gold chain,

2) Getting REALLY pissed-off with combinations that are too co-ordinated, colour or otherwise, which is the epitome of tedium (though no, I wouldn’t put big trainers with a prom-dress – there’s eclecticism, and then there’s crime),

3) Deciding periodically that I dress like an older frump and (oh no) attempting to add 'fun' to an outfit.

4) All of this though is also subconsciously (not) linked to the influence of going to clubs and dancing to M.I.A. and having an interest in her stylist and designer, Carri Mundane aka - Cassette Playa (via reading Charlie Porter's now deceased column in the Guardian weekend) who also styles The Klaxons: read, the *neon*.

C'est belle, la vie dans Berlin.

It goes like this, Sunday morning, la brunch pour huit euros, as much as you like, and such delights as baby spinach salad with parmegianno and pine nuts, grilled chicken, pancakes with maple syrup, or mozzerlla with beef tomatoes, you get the picture. A short walk through leafy and cobbled streets populated by damn good-looking couples pushing baby carts together - the novelty! - and you arrive chez Flohmarkt. And you find, a stella pour H&M trench for 5€. Unmarked perfect condition, though not your size darnit. Oh well, there is a state of the art, oversized cocoon shaped tracksuit top in the lightest of nylons by puma in a light aquamarine. For 2€. also perfect condition. and she's thrown in the trousers. that's my dance class outfit. and perhaps, yes, indeed, a black leather handbag with a gold chain for 5 and a voluminous silver blouse that couldn't be more du jour to wear with a belt cinching in and a black pencil skirt which is pretty Fendi. for 6€. apres ca? To see a Belle plus belle que la Moss avec plus de musical talent in the evening and in a metallic knitted playsuit and ankle boots and tights - oui, c'est Emily de Metric.