Winter is Coming

In these two hemispheres, there's always one season or another that we're  not satisfied with. For the southern hemispherers, it's the hot days and nights of summer (as evidenced purely by Miss Moss's recent need for her 'summer psyching' posts, feel free to correct me!); for us northerners (I'm sure that's across the board) it's the deep dark winter. And it's on the way.
Top line: 1. Hello Mr. Fox   2. The Sartorialist   3. My sister's tweed coat
Bottom line: 4. My tweed flat cap   5. Emerson's Journal (I think picture was deleted, hence bad link!)   6. Wayward Daughter

This all got me to thinking about the things that never fail to get me excited about winter. Autumn unarguably brings the best food along with it (butternut squash – so soon!), but, if fabric can be seasonal (and I'm fairly sure it can) I think it brings the best fabrics with it too.

Summer is all pulled chiffon and dull cotton, but winter, for me, is all about tweeds, wool and sequins. Add a breton stripe or two (as I always do) and you have a perfect winter wardrobe I reckon. Layer upon layer, thermal upon cosy thermal, topped off with grey wool tights, a well-wrapped scarf and a sequin or two to keep it happy, and you're away.
Top line: 1. Lolitanie   2. Hanneli   3. Good Night, Day (via)
Bottom line: 4. & 6. Maska Knits   5. Kris Atomic

I know a man who weaves tweed on a beautiful big old noisy weaving machine, have a mother who knits wool into lovely jumpers and have already sourced a sequin/glitter wholesaler or two, so I think, on my budget of air, I might just do alright this winter.

Top line: 1. Sequin clutch (it's from Zara, I recently discovered)   2. Miu Miu Boots
Middle: 3. by whimsical  
Bottom line: 4. Zara September lookbook (via)   5. The Sartorialist


Sightseeing #3


I don't pay a lot of attention to runway shows, I must say (who has the time to really pay attention?) but I do make an effort to take a look at the photographs from Erdem. As I mentioned in my last post, I'm always drawn to tiny, intricate pattern, and as I've mentioned many times, I love a simple, classic shape. I also quite like England and am curious about Canada, so British-Canadian Erdem Moralioglu is my perfect match. 
    Dear Golden Vintage is also my perfect match, for the sole reason that it must be one of the best vintage shops on Etsy. I saw this 1950s 'Mingling Elements' dress (I can certainly see why she named it that) and instantly thought of Erdem – or at least a more autumn/wintery Erdem, which is vastly more suited to the September weather that's been blustering around here of late. 

Information overload is something I really find myself suffering from on the Internet. I read fast, then I move on. But some things stick in my mind, and I find myself going back to them from time to time. It may be because my internet life is so frenetic and these images are so calm, but Anabela's guest post on Hila's lovely blog le projet d'amour a few weeks ago was one of those things. 
     The best bit about the whole affair is that there are now some beautifully atmospheric Fieldguided fog prints for sale in Anabela & Geoff's shop.

The thing I love best about autumn is the food that comes along with it. September means moules mariniere for the first time in ages (I go with the 'don't eat seafood in a month without an "r" in' rule), butternut squash risottos, and crucially (I am Scottish after all), porridge. Consequently I am very excited to see what Mallory of Where the Lovely Things Are has lined up for her forthcoming 'Food Week' (next week!), which sounds like it will be very food inspiring. 
    In the meantime, I plan to dedicate myself to a more thorough examination of Miss Moss's breakfast tumblr 'BKFST' to see if I can glean any new or revolutionary ideas for my winter morning boiled oat ritual.



There's such escape in a seascape. They're mesmerising. As L.S. Lowry explained his fascination with painting them: 'It's the battle of life – the turbulence of the sea – and life's pretty turbulent, isn't it?' 

Seascapes are blank space with lots of little details – the colour of the water, sometimes white horses, sometimes a mirror shine. When I go back home to Islay, I can't help but photograph it in all its moods – I'm especially sad to be missing all of the drama of the autumn storms that will be coming in the next few months.

I like certain clothes for similar reasons: I've never been much of a one for bold, bright, blocked patterns – something small and intricate suits me best; soft draping reminds me of waves and unpredictable tides, and muted blues and greens are all I ever really want to wear. 

The view from the ferry across the sea to Islay on a darkening night.

A Lowry seascape 'The Sea' (1963) hanging in Glasgow's Kelvingrove Art Gallery.
Below: The view from outside my Islay house the morning I left.


Easy Influences

I've been really getting into my Tumblrs lately (unlike Pinterest, Tumblr doesn't make me want to buy things every hour of every day (see below for proof) which is good) and I've been having a bit of a fiddle with their designs for the last few weeks too. They've been sitting quietly in my sidebar for a while, but I think they have a little bit more to say for themselves nowadays.

easy influence

Easy Influence was the name of my first ever blog (I almost wish I had kept the name for this one) and is now my main Tumblr for bits and pieces and things that draw me in. What I like about it is the way the colour spread seems to change with the seasons – it spent a lot of time in the pale greens and blues in mid to late August, and is now heading for the browns and burgundies of September and October. 

girls on floral

Girls on Floral is my other Tumblr – I didn't want to flood Easy Influence with the thousands of beautiful girls/flowers/floral images that I see every week, so I flood this one instead. It doesn't seem to mind too much.
Do follow them, if you're interested. If not, there's always that dreaded bank balance destroyer Pinterest, or the relatively safe Twitter, if you fancy. Have a lovely weekend!



The self-bought gifts to myself have been rather flying through the letterbox this past week, and were all left behind in Bristol when I took myself off to Islay for the weekend. This means, of course, that I get to discover them all over again now that I'm back.

This Topshop blouse is Pinterest's fault entirely – I pinned it, I went back to it a few times, then just had to order it just to 'try'. Then I fell in love with the 1930s style (slightly 'magic eye' puzzle) print and the lovely collar, and that was that.

The New Yorker
Pancakes and Magazines
This wasn't strictly through the letterbox, but, after a long search, the New Yorker and I finally ran into each other at a newsagent in Bristol, and I brought him home with me. Then we had a pancakes & nutella breakfast together – it's a real romance.

The Rules of Civility
I've been reading reviews and hearing radio articles about The Rules of Civility for the last few months, and, typically, saw it in a bookshop, fell in love with the cover and bought it online (you can read how bad I feel about doing things like that in this post here).

So, I was intrigued by the content first, but it was the cover that clinched it – all matt black with foil on the beautiful typography – I hope that doesn't count as judging a book by its cover. I haven't started yet, but if it's a let down I'll be sure to let you know.


Darks of Summer

Thank you all very much for your very kind comments on my last post – I'm so pleased you thought they all worked out ok. As I mentioned, here is the dark side of summer, at least as it emerged from my camera. We've had plenty of the dark side this year (as the BBC corroborates), so it fits. To be honest, these murky photographs are probably more testament to my inability to use the camera properly than anything else, but I rather like them all the same.

summer darks

The flowers I found on a Sunday evening walk around a bit of Bristol I've never visited before, and the dark room is my bedroom just at the moment before the sun sinks behind one of the other buildings on the street. The poor little garlic bulb isn't so very seasonal, but he (or others like him) has featured all the way through my summer, lending purpley cloves to hot sauces and cool dips – it seems fair that he gets a little look in.

The harbour is the one I visited in Cornwall a few weeks ago, just in the evening, when all the tourists disappeared and the little boats came back for the night. Talking of little boats that arrive in the night: as I post this, I am on one myself – the late ferry to Islay, for a home weekend.