Summer lovin'

British Summertime begins today, so to celebrate here are some sunny pictures.

"You're afraid to be in love; you're afraid to lose control"

In the past two days, I have watched two beautiful, incredibly moving films, and both of them have been about musicians.

The first: Velvet Goldmine.

This is yet another film that Hayley (who is a film student at uni) introduced me too. It's the story of Brian Slade, a David Bowie-esque character, his rise to super stardom and the question of his disappearance and possible faked death. It also features an adorably young Christian Bale (sporting a lush mint green velvet blazer) and his teenage years listening to and obsessing over Brian Slade's band, and also ten years later as a reporter reliving his childhood memories and trying to discover what really happened to Slade.

The film also features Ewan McGregor as Curt Wild (the 'Iggy Pop' wild card character) who Slade falls in love with, as well as Eddie Izzard (always excellent) and Placebo! Yes, the band, and yes, they are stellar.

To put it simply, I was blown away. When Brian Molko introduced the 'farewell to glam rock' concert and started playing 20th Century Boy, one of my all-time favourite songs, my heart was pounding so fast I thought I was going to hyperventilate. The last time a film affected me like that, Sam Worthington was a 9ft tall blue alien on the back of a CGI pterodactyl, swooping around a 3D fictional landscape.

Obviously it's not everyone's cup of tea (homophobes, stay away), but I abdolutely adored it. Jonathan Rhys Meyers as Brian Slade was perfection - he had obviously studied David Bowie very closely, because if you let your eyes blur a teeny bit, it was exactly like watching Bowie during his Space Oddity period.

The soundtrack was one of thes best that I have ever heard. Also, there was an extortionate amount of glitter. My kinda thing.


The second film, which I've seen portions of before but only managed to see in full tonight, was Walk the Line.

Now I am a huge Johnny Cash fan, so I was both attracted to and dubious of this film. I shouldn't have worried - it is beautiful. It's such a shame that Joaquin Phoenix is a whacko nowadays, because he is both astoninishingly talented and an absolute babe in this film. His Johnny Cash is so absdolutely, absolutely, on the mark, it's eerie.

The film chronicles Cash's early life and rise to fame, as well as his relationship with his wife June Carter, played by Reese Witherspoon. Both actors sing and play their own instruments in the film, which I think is a fact worth knowing before you watch it, because it is unbelievably impressive. Phoenix evens gets the little inflections in Cash's voice perfected when he performs the songs. Johnny Cash himself actually requested that Phoenix portray him in the film before his death in 2003.

Aside from the perfect music and Joaquin Phoenix's undeniably sexy curled upper lip, the film made me cry my eyes out. Cash's relationship with his father is heartbreaking, as is his drug addiction and self-destructiveness. But - SPOILER ALERT - there is a happy ending. And it's so uplifting; I cried then too. True love stories make me an emotional wreck.


So there we have it - two more films that I adore. I'll leave you with a Velvet Goldmine quote that delighted me, and a film still from one of my favourite moments in Walk the Line. Now - any more film suggestions for me to watch and love?

"To save your wild, wild lives
To ne'er your fans embitter
To cease your sad demise
Tonight we toast: THE DEATH OF GLITTER"



<3

A burgeoning obsession..

I have fallen in love.

There are two fashion houses whose collections I follow dilligently, from design to creation to runway: Burberry Prorsum, and Chanel. There are other designers that I adore (Chloé, Christian Dior, Vivienne Westwood, Calvin Klein, Fendi, Valentino), but those two are the big ones - the ones that I would literally kill a person to have a piece from their collections.

But now, what is this? A S/S '10 collection has snuck up on me and taken a hold of my heart (admittedly several months late) and I find myself asking, how did I miss this?

I'm talking about Miu Miu.

The Spring/Summer 2010 collection is one of the most beautiful runway shows that I have ever seen. It is as close to perfection that a season could get without having Karl Lagerfeld involved. And (please take note, Christopher Bailey) there's not a single padded shoulder in sight. Fabulous.






Being a shoe obsessive (I have a sickening amount of shoes), I was dazzled by these. They are, in the words of Alexa Chung 'the perfect shoe' (http://twitpic.com/1538qc). The gold swallow print M-J's, or the black cat print M-J's are my absolute favourite. I love love love block heels, and I adore platforms. They are dream shoes.



Maybe Miuccia Prada saves all her most interesting designs for Miu Miu, because she certainly doesn't use them with Prada (yeah, ok, Prada is lovely and classic and everything, but it's just so dull).


Just as I was beginning to digest the sheer magnificence of the S/S collection, BAM. She hits me with this: Miu Miu Fall/Winter 2010/11.



I'm undecided as to whether or not I prefer it to the Spring collection, but it's so stunning. The yellow is perfect.

And so begins yet another obsession of mine. I worked out that if put aside £2 every week, I will be able to buy a swallow print dress by the time I'm 32 years old. I've started saving.


For more A/W go here: http://dailyfashionandstyle.com/designercollections/miu_miu_fall_2010_rtw_collection-514.html

Finally, something I'm good at...

Procrastinating is probably the only skill that I have down to T. What a depressing thought. Even now as I write this I have an essay (due in in less than 12 hours) that needs writing. I really need to sort myself out.

Perhaps choosing to study English Literature at university was a bad choice. I should've realised from the start that the course involved copious essay writing. In my defense, nobody warned me that it was all coursework and no exams (as a procrastinator, I far, far prefer exams - there's a structured length of time and it doesn't really leave room for putting off). Essay writing is just so tedious. "Look at the way the body as a space changes with landscape and interior and exterior spaces in The Awakening and Thelma and Louise"? Why do I need to answer this? Who wants to read that, seriously?

So, in my last moment of rest before I attempt to tackle that most gripping of subjects - American 'Space and Place' Literature - here are a few pictures that, each in their own way, make me a little bit happy.

"I'm fizzy with excitement"

Yesterday I began reading my fifth Bret Easton Ellis book in the past fortnight, Glamorama. Perhaps I should have read them in published order (his characters often reappear in subsequent novels). So far I have gone through American Psycho, Lunar Park, Less Than Zero and The Informers. American Psycho is, of course, the best, even though large portions of the book are physically nauseating (you try and read a chapter about a woman literally being chewed apart while you're trying to eat your lunch. Unpleasant). It helps that when reading it I can picture Christian Bale (who, incidentally, was utterly perfect for the part).

The thing about Ellis' writing that's so captivating though, is that it's real. Not real in the 'oh yeah, we're all multi-million dollar earning models/actors/Wall Street bastards' sense, but real in the style of the writing. The dialogue is real. If you've never spoken to someone doped up to the eyeballs, maybe you can't imagine how necessary those little ...'s are that Ellis uses. And as corny as it might sound, the pain that Ellis writes into his characters - or, as the case often is, the lack of emotion entirely - is completely visual. It's beautiful.

But the thing that my friend Hayley and I decided was the most perfect thing about Ellis' writing was his use of sarcasm. His books - especially American Psycho and Lunar Park - are brimming with sarcasm. It is, I think, what makes his characters so believable, the same way that Clare and Henry are in (my favourite novel of all time) The Time Traveller's Wife. The conversations they have are written like real conversations, not like book conversations. The language used is how a person would really speak, and that is the mark of a really talented writer.

Hayley has written her own Ellis-loving post on her blog (http://theyhadmadeamovieaboutus.blogspot.com/2010/03/there-is-no-real-me-only-entity.html) which is what inspired me to write mine - I wanted to explain somewhere how much this author has affected me.

Roll on June 2010 and Ellis' new novel, Imperial Bedrooms.

Rou Reynolds' Guide To Life

"Boys; stop smoking, stop watching pointless TV, stop trying to be Billy Big Bollocks all the time. Exercise, read, be accepting.

Girls; stop smoking, stop watching pointless TV, stop wearing tons of make-up, stop wearing heels. Exercise, read, be confident."


I do not think there is a single thing he could say to make me respect him more. My respect levels have reached maximum.

(via twitter: http://twitter.com/enterrou)

I think my mask of sanity is about to slip

Early morning smiles

http://www.metalmother.com/motherboard/index.php/2008/11/married/

Prone to madness...

bonjour, accueillir à mon blog

My name is Emily.
I am 20 years old.

Things I like: lists, glitter, Yorkshire, hair dye, glasses, plaid shirts, Burberry Prorsum, Enter Shikari, every single thing that Lady Gaga says, does and wears, travel travel travel, art (but not pretentious art), big dogs, loud music, Topshop Jamie jeans, red hair, Myspace over Facebook, the works of Bret Easton Ellis, polaroids, the sea, ankle bones, wrist bones, collar bones, hip bones, drunk confessions, journals, architecture, conversations with strangers, Alexa Chung, the sound of high heels, sunlit rooms, stationary, vinyl, meadows and forests, Avatar, contagious smiles, text messages, quotations, memory boxes, sarcasm, Springwatch, spontaneous plans, supermodels, the underdog, pubs, jazz and blues, scars, good manners, people who take care of their appearance (but aren't obsessive about it), nihilism, sexual innuendos, gingerbread men, Chanel, money, summertime.

Things I dislike: my hair, uncomfortable shoes, people who throw bottles at gigs, injustice, the conservative party, cheap prints, having beautiful friends, people who say 'sarcasm is the lowest form of wit', bus conductors, the fact that I am almost always cold, running out of credit mid-call, getting sand in your shoes, Southerners, incorrect grammar, being the only one willing to do something, being the only one able to afford to do something, well thought out status updates that don't get the credit they deserve, bullies, peas, people who let themselves go, headaches, not being able to help, ingratitude, obnoxiousness, walking slowly, the Geldof sisters, tiger poachers, bad literature, bad art, bad music.