Trans-seasonally dotty

Let's face it, nobody knows what is going on with the weather right now. One minute you're in tights and boots, the next day you're sweating out a weeks worth of calories. I would wear this on either occasion - with jeans, maybe, or with a skirt and sandals. Not so dotty after all.

I'm all yolk baby

You know, I love a good pavlova and have even succumbed to the egg-white omelette on occasion. But there is something not quite right about throwing out a perfectly good yolk. So yellow and yummy, kind of like this dress by Yolk, which is, of course, not yellow, but a much more flattering shade of red.

You are getting sleepy...

Just recently, I met someone who went on one of those celebrity hypnosis shows. Sadly, he admitted to me that his sudden and apparent hypnotized personality was all an act. Damn all those false hopes and dreams perpetuated by b-grade television.

Strange, seeing as just looking at this Evexia eye-pillows is making me all sleepy...

A name is not a sweatshop

A decade or so ago Nike CEO Phil Knight admitted that it is the brand that is important, not the product. No doubt A name is a label would have something to say about this, considering that they are all about recycling and making one-off-pieces like this bow necklace that would make a pair of Nikes hang their sweatshop laces in shame.

Maru on sale!

This Maru cap-sleeve dress is on sale. Yay! No barracuda elbows required.

The true story of Little Red Riding Hood

One day a small woman in a red cloak was frolicking through the woods on her way to her Grandmother's house to deliver a picnic basket full of ginger biscuits and lemonade. Unfortunately, the small woman forgot that ginger biscuits and lemonade are amongst the favorite foods of wolves, who also enjoy devouring small women in red cloaks.

The small woman was skipping along merrily when out from behind a tree the wolf - we'll call him George - jumped. The small woman, who was completely unprepared for such an incident, fell on her backside, dropping the picnic basket and spilling all her delicious lemonade. This ruckus made thirsty old George even more peckish and he opened his jaws, fangs glowing in the twilight, saliva oozing every where.

The small woman screamed and George decided not to go for the jugular. The small woman assumed that her screaming had worked, so she kept on going until her throat went red raw, which was a complete waste of time, as she was wrong. George didn't care about the screaming. It was the small woman's cameo brooch, with a tree in the middle, that stopped him dead in his tracks. It was stunning, and George, who had quite a good eye-for-style, especially for a wolf, knew that he could never eat anyone with such impeccable taste.

As fast as he could, George ran off to check out the Pussycat Black blog where he discovered that the brooch was made by Buttontree.