My life, My love, My brogues

Given that Valentine's Day is fast approaching, I thought it was high time for me to confess that I'm in love. But it's not another human that is the object of my affections, but rather the ever-androgynous and oh-so-chic brogues.

Like all tales of love, I feel it is only fair to start from the beginning, and tell the tale of how our love affair began. On a Winter sojourn to New York City, in a time not too long ago, I was struggling to find chic shoes to wear while traipsing up and down the icy streets of Manhattan. As I refused to don the contrived uniform of a duck-down parka and snow boots in such a climate, the outlook was bleak. That was until I plucked the most perfect pair of golen-hued brogues from the obscurity of the Forever 21 sale table. These were humble brogues, not pretentious, yet kind to my feet and tough enough to stave off the advances of the cold and snow. We bonded over the course of my American adventure, and developed a deep affinity for each other. Alas, the soles of these poor little brogues eventually wore out, and we had to part ways...but I will forever have the memories of the joyous days we spent together swanning up and down 5th Avenue, skipping through Central Park, and strolling through the front doors of the Plaza Hotel.

Cut to the present day, and my love of brogues has intensified. I have never found a single pair that I have adore as much as those that fate brought to me in that bleak NYC Winter. Instead, 5 pairs presently occupy my wardrobe. While they do not need to prevent my feet from freezing, they succeed in making my jeans appear chic and polished, add a somewhat alternative vibe to a pretty summer dress, and generally adding a hint of much-needed androgyny to my predominantly bright, glitzy wardrobe.

So, I would like to thank my much-loved brogues for all they do for me. I'm sure our love affair will transcend the (style) seasons, and that we have a long and happy future ahead of us.

Kat xx

Ps. The previous count was inaccurate. I now own 6 pairs of brogues, counting these little cuties I picked up today. Aren't they just precious?

All I want for Valentine's is a rose...rose gold, that is!

It is not uncommon for me to be lusting over particular pieces of jewellery. The subject of my current obsession is rose gold. Now I know what you're thinking...rose gold has long been considered to be the passé, dowdy cousin of yellow and white gold. But hear me out! While, it is true that loading your fingers, wrists, neck and ears up with the rosy-hued metal can make you look like your great Aunt, a little rosé, can add warmth and a hint of antiquity to the stark modernity of plain white gold or silver (I by no means advocate wearing rose and yellow gold together). Case in point: Tiffany & Co's divine new rose and white gold collection. Sleek, stylish and modern, with just a hint of old world charm.

I have deemed this gorgeous little pendant to be my must-have from the collection so far. (But I'm sure my must-have list is doomed to grow).

Special mention must also go to Michael Kors for his oh-so-fabulous range of rose gold watches (which can be ordered from the Bloomingdales website, just in case you were wondering). I feel that Mr. Kors gets the balance just right, using rose gold to add much-needed femininity to his oversized watches.

So, on the off-chance that I have a secret admirer out there who is wishing to shower me with adoration this Valentine's Day, take note: The way to a woman's heart is with a little blue box from Tiffany's...or a little brown bag from Bloomingdales.

Happy shopping!

Kat xx

Hedonism as a way of life...my personal philosophy

I thought it best to kick of this blog in a completely self-serving way, and explain just how I came to identify myself as a hedonist, and what this means for me as I go about my daily business. It seems fitting to begin by sharing a little fact about humankind, which was brought to my attention in an Introductory Social Psychology course I took...I feel it is made all the more poignant given that it is the sole piece of information I retained from the entire subject. The theory runs that there are two basic types of people in the world: those who seek pleasure, and those who avoid pain. Despite the obvious advantages (self-preservation etc.) associated with the latter, I have, for as long as I can remember, fit squarely into the former category.

From when I was a young child, negative reinforcement never worked on me. My well-meaning mother tried endlessly to coax/ threaten me into completing tasks, citing things like, "If you don't clean your room, no dessert for you!" To this, I would simply shrug my shoulders and walk away. What was in it for me? The pain of cleaning my abhorently messy room far outweighed the pleasure of devouring the watery iceblock sitting in the freezer! Fast-forward 15 years, and the situation is essentially the same. It is still near-impossible to make me do something that I see not intrinsic benefit in. Allow me to clarify: I never have trouble studying, or going to work, because I can understand the long-term benefits, even though at the present time there are things I would rather be doing on my Saturday night!

It is the mundane things I generally struggle with, the things which need to be 'thanklessly done', without any reward. However, while I have long accepted that this is my nature, powerful social norms have taught me that refusal to engage with normal human behaviours such as filing, cleaning and sorting is both unhelpful and self-centred. I have developed a method for making such jobs (slightly) more pallatable. Thanks to my stellar imagination, I have learnt to convince myself of some fabulous benefit arising from a particular task. For example, while cleaning my room/ the house, I have been known to dream about having it photographed for a glossy interiors magazine. This delusion usually lasts long enough for me to alphabetise my cookbooks, sort my shoes according to colour, and, most importantly, ensure that the floor is once again free from a mess of handbags, shoes and magazines that generally occupy it.

Additionally, I have placed a 'clause' on my hedonistic behaviour, which comes in handy in situations where the task at hand is outlandish (think skydiving), something that I absolutely, positively do not want to do. It can be summed up as the 'Try Anything Once Clause', and obligates me to engage with the activity no matter how hair-raising, death-defying, or generally unpleasant.

So what part does hedonism play in my day-to-day life? I can best sum up my view of the world as, "La vie en rose" (thank you for the phrase, Edith Piaf). I perpetually view the glass as half full (preferably with Moët), and constantly have my head in the clouds dreaming about future prospects and possibilities. Many people (rightly) remark that this is a naïve and overly-optimistic approach to life, but with all the horror and heartbreak in our world, surely there are worse crimes than looking on the bright side of life?

Thank you for indulging me and allowing me to explain the rationale for my blog. I hope you find reading it as pleasurable as I find writing it.

Bonne nuit!

Kat xx