1. You can never have too much glitter in your life. Or on your face.

2. If you have the option, always choose time over money.

3. Never wear anything less than factor 30 in the sun.

4. Don't read women's magazines. They make you stupid.

5. Marry the person who feels like home.

6. If in doubt, have a nap.

If I had a daughter, these are the kinds of things I would teach her about the world. None of that follow your dreams, reach for the stars, we can all be Beyoncé if we want it enough crap. I'm not buying it.

What would you tell the next generation of girls? And the one after that? What have you learned in your one messy and confusing life that is worth passing on? My list is worryingly short. I'm hoping it'll get longer over time. Maybe by the time I'm 80 I'll have, oh, I don't know, ten whole things.


This Saturday is International Women's Day, a yearly ritual that will forever be tangled in my head with blogging and with Any Other Woman. Unlike previous years, when they asked their readers and blogging pals to send in full posts on a particular theme to be run throughout the day, this time they're seeking wisdom. (Aren't we all?)

From the AOW team:

This year, on Friday, we want to do something a little different. We want to run snippets of advice throughout the day from our readers. And our question is this: 

What advice would you give the next generation of AOW readers? 

What do you wish someone could have told you? Email (anna@anyotherwoman.com), or tweet @AnyOtherAnnaK or @AnyOtherAisling whatever advice you'd like to give - it can be a few words, a paragraph or a whole post.

You heard the ladies. Get involved.

Now here is my final piece of advice to you: if you don't already read Any Other Woman, Friday might be a good day to start.

EVIDENCE OF IWD AWESOMENESS:

and bonus kittens:
→ Dear National Stress Awareness Day


Images: Vintage glittery glasses and vintage tortoiseshell glasses via Etsy. This place will fit prescription lenses to vintage frames. I suspect this could become an expensive discovery.

I have a post up on Lauren McGlynn's blog today as part of her advent fundraising project. If you've been missing my witty banter and exquisite taste (I know you have, don't try to pretend) then you should head over there for my round-up of lovely things that might make nice presents, all by independent Scottish artists and designers.

But enough about me - how are YOU? How's December treating you?

SEE ALSO:

Three Wise Men Russian Nesting Dolls by Hole In My Pocket, £185

Dear Santa,

This Christmas, I would like:

1. To get a good night's sleep.

2. To look and feel vaguely presentable, bearing in mind that my definition of "vaguely presentable" has relaxed considerably since the time you brought me those pink GHDs.

3. To accept that I am old and boring and that all I really want to do is curl up with a good book and a packet of biscuits.

To that end, I would not cry if any of the following made their way into my stocking.

Apparently, cosy knitted snoods are so in right now. I don't like to blow my own fashion trumpet, but I was ALL OVER this trend two years ago. Not only did I knit a snood for myself, I also knitted one for Smidgen, because I am a crazy dog lady. I then knitted a second one for myself, in softest pink, but Smidgen ate it. I tried not to take it personally.

Anyway, the fashion world has finally caught up with Smidgen and me, and the internet is rife with snoods. The best thing about the snood trend is that it's a zero effort trend, which is my favourite type of trend. You don't even have to go through the tiresome process of wrapping it around your neck with your arms, ugh, scarves are so exhausting. Snoods are also warm and endlessly practical in these chilly climes, for which the back of my neck is profoundly grateful (#shorthairproblems).

My beloved chunky grey snood is practically glued to my body at the moment, but if I was inclined to purchase a new one to add to my rotation, it might be this colourful number by Donna Wilson.


The big question is, which colour? (And do I need the matching mittens?)


What winter warmers have you got your eye on? Gimme your knitwear porn.

SEE ALSO:

SEE ALSO:

It would be a jaunty mixture of practical and ridiculous.

Sounds about right.

NEW GAME. If you (or your blog) were an outfit, what would it be? Bonus points if you make a moodboard (I recommend Polyvore for the Photoshop-impaired).

Necklace: Amanda Deer | Dress: Joy | Shoes: Zara | Bag: Cambridge Satchel Company

PEOPLE PLAYED ALONG!

↣ Lisa of This Girl Is is clearly a total badass.
↣ Cutest outfit ever (and not a red boot in sight) from Wendy of Red Boots.
↣ Screw my blog outfit, I want this one instead. Annie of Beard Today Gone Tomorrow has excellent taste.
↣ I also want this t-shirt, thanks to Michelle of My Creative.
↣ Trust Moz to take this game to the next (awesome) level, considering every detail from nail varnish to sunglasses.
↣ Better late than never, Kate! Cutest apron ever?
↣ The lovely Siobhan of Siobhan Claude Van Damme included a BOOK in hers. A book!

Okay, maybe they're not exactly the same. I should probably stop with the inappropriate comparison. But before I do, let me just remind you that trench coats were invented during World War I, so all I'm saying is that maybe it wasn't a complete waste of time.

FINE I'M STOPPING NOW.

Back to my quest for a new coat.


Ever since I bought my beloved navy duffel coat, I've had a hankering for more timeless pieces. When it comes to outerwear, which in my book should always last through several seasons, the classics have more enduring appeal to me. So far, I've managed to acquire a classic Western denim jacket and a vegan aviator. ("Vegan" is just a pretentious codename for "pleather," but vegan sounds classier so I'm going with it. After all, I'm practically a vegan myself. Ahem.)

Now that spring is finally rolling into town, I'm itching to begin my annual search for a trench coat to complete the collection. The trench coat, like most "classic" items, is tricky to get right, which explains why the search has become something of a traditional spring pastime for me. Every year I look, and every year I fail to find anything that fits the bill.

I actually own a sort-of-trench-coat, as seen in this post in which I attempt (very, very badly) to impersonate Blair of Atlantic Pacific. But it's really more of a jacket than a coat - it withers at the merest mention of rain and it has all sorts of trendy, "twist-on-a-classic" details. I don't want a twist on a classic. I want a classic classic. No weird zips, no funny pleats, no zany colours. Just a pale beige, showerproof, double-breasted, just-above-the-knee, belted, long-sleeved trench coat. Why is that so hard to find?

I was ready to resign myself to the fact that the perfect trench coat simply doesn't exist. Or, rather, that it only exists if you're prepared to drop a grand on it which, clearly, I am not. But then I saw this:


And THEN, I saw THIS:


I'm damned if I'm going to be out-styled by a child - even if it is Emmanuelle Alt's child - and a DOG.

This is where you come in. It's been a while since we've had a shopping challenge on ye olde blog. Who has some time to kill and wants to help me track down the perfect trench coat for under £100? You do? Excellent! And, GO.


P.S. A reminder that you can create fancy clickable links in the comments box by copying and pasting this easy snippet of code:
<a href="PASTE THE LINK HERE">WHAT DO YOU WANT TO CALL THE LINK?</a>
For example:
<a href="http://asafemooring.blogspot.com/">A Safe Mooring</a> = A Safe Mooring
Ta-da! You are an HTML ninja.


Images: 1. Vanessa Jackman 2. From Parisian Chic by Ines de la Fressange via Vogue 3. The Sartorialist 4. Atlantic Pacific 5. Stockholm Street Style 6. The Westerley Trench from Uncovet

SEE ALSO:

I'm thinking a decent pair of leather combat boots could be the answer to my rainy-day shopping conundrum. I was never cool enough for them the first time round, but as the dawn of my thirties starts to slowly edge into view on the horizon, something tells me it's now or never. I reckon the right pair could just about work, as long as I avoid the chunky ones that make me look like a builder. 

So, readers, I ask you:

1. Combat boots as rainwear/workwear: yay or nay?

2. Were you cool enough to own a pair of Doc Martens in the 90s? Would you still have been friends with me if my school shoes came from Clarks (thanks Mum)?

And, um, 3. can somebody please find me a pair of boots that is actually available in this country, unlike these bad boys?


I'm still working on the jacket - untreated cotton is my nemesis. Thanks so much for all of your suggestions so far, though. You guys are ace.


{Image: Stockholm Street Style}

Time now for the rest of that half-baked post I so brutally thrust into the world on Monday. Or rather, time for a rough approximation of that half-baked post, since I panicked and deleted it in its entirety within about thirty seconds of accidentally hitting Publish.

(Incidentally, if you ever mistakenly publish a blog post, don't delete it (thanks Lyn). But if you already have, this post and this post were helpful, although seemingly not helpful enough since Google Reader is still clinging on for dear life. JUST GIVE IT UP, GOOGLE.)

Anyway. The purpose of the post was, firstly, to thank you for being so kind and supportive, and, secondly, to blatantly take advantage of your kindness and support for my own sartorial gain. 

You see, one thing about my new position that I neglected to mention on Friday is that it's in Glasgow. I went to university in Glasgow, and it's a place very dear to my heart, especially when it comes to fashion. Edinburgh has a certain quiet style about it, I suppose, but Glasgow is a place that shamelessly struts its stuff and isn't afraid to embrace whatever trend happens to be passing through. The hair is big, the skin is (fake-)tanned, and more is definitely more. You can't turn up in Glasgow in a boring bloody Edinburgh quilted gilet with your eyebrows unplucked and your hair a hot mess. You just can't.

The dress code in my new office is somewhat more relaxed than my usual lawyer-chic-zzzzzzzz, so I'm planning on channelling a bit of Glasgow flair for the duration of the internship. As you can imagine, I'm almost as excited about all the new outfit options as I am about the job. That bit isn't the problem. The problem is The Rain.



When I first moved to Glasgow from the east coast, it rained every day for the first month. Not all day every day, but still. Every day. At the time, massive flared jeans and trainers were the fashion (or so I, in my innocence, believed) and I would arrive at my classes every morning with soggy feet, wet ankles and a tide mark of puddle water seeping up towards my knees.

At last, in my final year, wellies became borderline socially acceptable as everyday footwear. I picked up a polka dot pair from Asda for a tenner, and I am not overstating things when I say they changed my life. Dry feet! All day! Those wellies were worth every penny of that £10 and every minute of being mocked by random Glasgwegian builders (like I say, they were only borderline acceptable).

But you can't really wear wellies to work, can you? I'm going to be travelling on rush hour trains, so there's no way I'm carrying a change of shoes with me. And don't even get me started on the jacket situation. Why is every lightweight hooded jacket that is vaguely stylish made of non-waterproof material? WHY? Do I need to dress like a hillwalker if I want to be dry? Is that what you're trying to tell me, Topshop? Is it??

I'm throwing this one out to you guys. I need help.

What can a girl wear on her feet that will be classic, stylish and vaguely waterproof? I've heard Sno Seal can make decent leather shoes waterproof, but this could just be a cruel lie sold to desperate Scottish people.

Does a jacket exist in this world that can do for summer showers what my duffel coat did for winter ones? Something lightweight, stylish, preferably with a hood, and not made of 100% bloody cotton?

All suggestions will be gratefully received in the comments. Oh and don't forget the whole "unpaid" thing, which sadly puts that Frances May parka up there out of the running. Along with that pointy yellow number up the top. Which is a shame, because I think Glasgow would enjoy it.

Those of you who live in rainy climes, how do you keep yourself stylish but dry? Is there some trick that I'm missing? Should I just buy myself a massive umbrella and call it a day?


Images: 1. STREETFSN 2. Frances May

It's time for the really important questions.


Yes, I know. It's pink. Don't judge me.


Okay, fine, if you want me to talk about yesterday, I will say this. All of the posts on Any Other Women were phenomenal, but I especially adored this one (you know how I feel about Maggie O'Farrell) and this one. Loved them BIG TIME. You should read them. And all of you who left comments on my post and sent me tweets that made me all mushy and happy: I love you big time, too. 
Image from Atlantic-Pacific

Images: 1. The Sartorialist 2. The Glamourai 3. The Sartorialist 4. Olivia Palermo shot by Bauer Griffin via Zimbio 6. Anthropologie (skirt no longer available) 7. Tiany by Zanita

1. Wish I lived the kind of life where I could don a full-length orange (red? coral? persimmon?) skirt to waft around in a park. 

2. Enter the Yoke screen print giveaway on Zoë's blog (which I once notoriously and, I think, quite accurately described as sunshine on toast) and groan at some seriously awful jokes. Apart from my joke, of course, which previously won me a tie break in an inter-office pub quiz. Thank you, nameless child in Fin's old class from whom I stole it. 

3. Lust after everything in Jane Gowans' Valentine's pop-up shop. Especially the small stacking rings *cough* hint hint *cough* 

4. Lose myself in all the stunning FLOWERS on Amy Merrick's gorgeous FLOWER blog *cough* HINT HINT *cough*

My shelves, one day soon. Livet Hemma via Pinterest

Image by Lillian and Leonard

Limited edition camera print, $20, Michele Maule

Alphabet and heart rings, from $88, Catbird

Probably not this one though, although I do like that cover.

A swirly, twirly, sunshine-not-lemon, knee-length yellow skirt, to be precise. It all started when I saw that picture up there. Then I saw this one: