Of Spring Shoes

I popped into Marks and Spencer today to buy some tights, after a visit to the doctor to get the results of my second blood test. He confirmed that I have had glandular fever, but although it's nice to have a definite diagnosis, there is no treatment apart from rest, so he simply reiterated the need to take things gently over the Easter holiday. Luckily the weather in Oxford has been absolutely glorious over the past few days, and apparently it is set to remain this way for the rest of the week. I certainly hope so! The warm sunshine and blue skies are so cheering, and today I slipped into this outfit, which remains as good for seeing in the Spring this year as it was last!

When I was in M&S, my eye was drawn to the shoe department (well, if they will arrange the store so I am simply *forced* to walk past the shoes to get to the tights, it would really be rude to avoid paying them proper attention, wouldn't it?). Not least because it was looking particularly eye-catching this afternoon as the new season's stock had obviously just arrived. I have long been a fan of M&S shoes, finding that they tend to produce several tempting pairs each season, all reasonably priced and relatively long-lasting, and as such they are one of my go-to choices for every-day footwear. I didn't actually buy anything today, but I did have to exercise a certain amount of restraint (yes, I am capable of it sometimes ... just don't tell anyone that I might go back again tomorrow...). Three pairs in particular tested my resolve, but I contented myself (for now) with trying them all on and then replacing them carefully on the shelf.

The sudden outburst of sunny weather this week has reminded me that Spring really is just around the corner (I'm particularly looking forward to the clocks going forward this weekend), and I'm feeling a corresponding urge to inject some brightness into my wardrobe. These would certainly do that! The red suede positively popped off the shelf, and would be a marvelous way to add a bit of colourful fizz to any outfit:

(Autograph Suede Peep Toe Platform Shoes, £49)

I was also taken with the somewhat nautical feel of these heels, which look perfect for pairing with something cool and airy for a bit of relaxed chic:

(Peep Toe High Heel Platform Shoes, £25)

Finally, I couldn't resist slipping my toes into these cheeky platforms, which have a lovely 1950's vibe about them. I normally avoid slingbacks, finding that they have a tendency to sling themselves off, but I paraded around the top floor of M&S in fine style in these to take them for a test drive, and they clung to my heels like limpets. So, who knows, perhaps they could even persuade me to give the style another go. The neutral colours mean they would go with so many things, after all, although I also like the naughty little jolts of red on the soles.

(Limited Collection Peep Toe Flower Platform Shoes, £29.50)

I always think it's fun to update one's wardrobe with a new piece or two every season, and shoes are a good way to do so. I might just pop back into M&S tomorrow, anyway, just to *see* whether any of these look as pretty as they do in my memory (and as they do on the ever-tempting website). After all, if I'm going to be putting my feet up over the next few weeks, I might as well put them up in style!

In the meantime, I'm going to slip my feet into something rather less spectacular, and head out into my garden to make the most of the last of today's sunshine. For, as Sir W tells us in his 1601 essay 'Of Solitarinesse and Company',

'the Sun [is] not carrying his Lanthorne for himselfe but for the world'.

Of Small Pleasures

I'm back in Oxford now, after a week's rest at home, and I'm pleased to report that the penicillin and steroids worked their magic and my throat cleared up very quickly. I'm still extremely tired, and had to have another blood test yesterday to try to clarify whether or not this *is* glandular fever or just another nasty infection. I won't have the results back for another week, but in the meantime, I'm enjoying some of the small pleasures in life while I am forced to take everything very quietly for a while.

As I'm going to be spending most of my time in my flat, I thought I would brighten the place up a little, and yesterday I paid a visit to Daisies, a delightful florist on Walton Street in Jericho, just around the corner from me.

(Image from the Daisies website)

I've peeked through the window several times before, but this is the first time I've actually bought anything there, as usually I frequent another florist in the Covered Market in the centre of Oxford. I decided it was high time I investigated my local flower shop, however, and I wasn't disappointed. The stock in Daisies is stunning, and I've just discovered that it's even possible to order some of their spectacular displays online and have them delivered anywhere across the UK, which is something I might bear in mind for future special occasions!

(Image from the Daisies website)

Although I was tempted by half the shop, I did eventually manage to make up my mind, and bought enough to fill one big glass vase in the sitting room, and a smaller porcelain one in my bedroom. Tulips are always a favourite of mine, and I thought the yellow heart peeking out of the orange petals made these particularly pretty:

I love both the look and the scent of hyacinths, so when I saw the gorgeous deep purple of these beauties, I knew I had to have them. They provide a wonderful dark contrast to the fiery splendour of the tulips...

... and really brighten up the sitting room:

I went for more delicate option for my bedroom, with soothing blues and creams fitting in nicely amongst some of the oddments on my dressing table.

When I was growing up, my mum would always make sure that we had new cut flowers every week, and since I've come away to university this is a habit I've enjoyed turning into my own. It's such an easy way to inject some freshness and colour into a room, and I love the way in which they provide an ever-changing ornament.

For now, I'm curling up on the sofa, admiring my bouquet and enjoying the divine smell of the hyacinths wafting towards me. It's having to compete, however, with the scent of Earl Grey, as I've just made myself a big mugful to go along with this morning's postal delivery: Dandy Gilver & An Unsuitable Day for a Murder by Catriona McPherson. This is the latest in the series which started with the wonderful After the Armistice Ball, and I can't wait to read about Dandy's latest adventures!

Sir W warns us in his 1601 essay 'Of Humilitie' that,

'beauty is but a colour, and not reckened amongst the substantiall',

but as I settle down with my book and tea and gaze upon my lovely flowers, I feel content in finding pleasure in the transient vibrancy of their beautiful, colourful petals. And who knows what I'll find in the florist to tempt me next week?

Of The Unexpected

Well, life really is full of surprises, isn't it? I did not expect, this time last week, that I would now be sitting in my bed at home, dosed up to the eyeballs on penicillin and steroids, and awaiting the results of a blood test. But here I am! Last weekend, I developed an incredibly painful sore throat, which resulted in my barely being able to swallow anything, even water, without feeling as if my throat were being cut through with razor blades. I was generally weak and pitiful, and on Monday took myself off to the doctor, who took one look inside my mouth and recoiled, exclaiming 'Nasty!', before diagnosing me with suspected Glandular Fever. I was packed off to have a blood test the following morning, and should get the results tomorrow. In the meantime, my mum shot down to Oxford and whisked me away home to be looked after and pampered as I do my best Wilting Victorian Lady impression, and flit piteously between the bed and the sofa. My health has not been great for a few months now -- always a worry with my history of M.E. (which I suffered from badly between the ages of 14 and 18, with the odd relapse since) -- and obviously I need to be extra careful as I recuperate now. So it's going to be brake pedal on for a while, with regards to work and play. It's difficult having to miss out on the things I want to do, but several years of M.E. means that I have learned the necessity of listening to my body and not pushing myself to breaking point, and the doctor is hopeful that with catching this early, and throwing lots of medication at it, we can keep things contained.

To cheer myself up in the meantime, however, my mum and I have just arranged a couple of London adventures for her birthday at the end of June, by which time I hope to be back to something approaching full working order. We will be having an afternoon and evening filled with the best food and entertainment the capital has to offer, even managing to fit in a little bit of fashion as a matter of course -- in the best frivolous manner.

We'll be starting off with the Pret a Portea afternoon tea in the deliciously named Caramel Room at The Berkeley Hotel in Knightsbridge. I've been desperate to go here since I first heard about the fashionista fancies on offer at the tea table, and I only had to show a couple of these photos to my mum before she was completely captivated too:

(Images from The Berkeley Hotel's website)

Mmm. Doesn't it all look divine? Almost too good to eat. Almost...

After polishing off our pretty platefuls, we'll then be heading off in the evening to the Garrick Theatre to see their forthcoming production of Pygmalion. I saw Peter Hall's brilliant version of this at the Old Vic in 2008 with Michelle Dockery (recently so good in ITV's excellent series Downton Abbey -- if you get the chance do watch this if you missed it before Christmas!) as Eliza and the ever-dependable Tim Piggott-Smith as Professor Higgins. I am still wildly excited about this new production, however, as it stars one of my favourite actors: Rupert Everett. I am really looking forward to seeing what he brings to the role of Henry Higgins!

(Image from here)

For now, however, I am curling up under the duvet and making the most of my unexpected rest by (finally!) finishing my Persephone Reading Weekend book (watch out for a review soon, as well as a belated description of my time in London the other weekend). As well as this, I am (also finally) catching up with The Killing, a Danish crime drama which has been showing on BBC4 over recent weeks. Luckily for me, there is still some of the series to go, and the rest of it is still (just) available on the BBC iPlayer. I've heard so many good things about it, and have been wanting to watch it for ages without managing to find the time, so some enforced bed rest seems like the perfect opportunity. I have mentioned before how Sir W tells us in his 1600 essay 'Of Sleepe' that

'Fame neuer yet knewe a perpetuall bedpresser',

but for now, Fame will have to wait, as bedpressing is exactly what the doctor ordered!

Of Dressing Up In The Kitchen

I'm rather behind on my target for Persephone Reading Weekend, as my very busy weekend and return to Oxford means that I've so far only managed to read the first three of Irene Nemirovsky's Dimanche and Other Stories. I'm pleased to say that I'm very much enjoying the collection so far though, so I hope to be able to bring you a review at the end of next week if I keep up with my lunchtime reading! Once I've sorted out some pictures, I'm also really looking forward to telling you all about my first experience of the ROH, as well as my delightful day in Hampstead (and other places, as it turned out...) on Sunday.

In the meantime, I couldn't help but share these breathtakingly elegant aprons (of all things), which are available for pre-order from the ever-wonderful Natural History. Apparently they've been causing quite a commotion in the States, and the canny people at Natural History decided they couldn't let the opportunity to bring them to our shores slip by. Can you blame them? These look like something I'd be quite happy to wander down the street in (although I assume that I might be in need of a little cover up from behind if I were to try that!). They might be a little pricey at £52, but perhaps such beautiful kitchen ware (wear?) is worth it. After all, I'm sure everything I turned my hand to at the oven couldn't help but come out just that little bit more perfect than it already does (ahem) if I adorned myself in one of these...

Rollings of Cinnamon Apron, £52

Morning Bun Moments Apron, £52

Frosty Tin Marshmallows Apron, £52

Even the names are good enough to eat. Although Sir W, in this sentence from his 1601 essay 'Of Virtue', would caution me against placing too much importance on outward appearance, I have to say that there are some moments I just have to pay him no heed!

'Mee thinkes, this same vanity of clothes hath done vertue wrong, for wee discry great men as much by their clothes, as actions, which is very improper'.

Of Tea and Crumpets

I spent most of my life thinking that -- unaccountably for an English person -- I Didn't Like Tea (shock! horror! perhaps it's the Greek blood!), or coffee, for that matter. When I was little, as my mother made one of her own copious cups of tea, I would be offered a little mug of my own, brimming with a steaming, milky beverage. In my mind, this was -- to paraphrase Mark Twain -- nothing more than a good cup of milk spoiled. It was only many years later, once I had discovered the delicate delights of fragrant Jasmine tea, and the dark, smokey pleasures of Lapsang Souchong, that I realized that actually, I did like tea. Just as long as it didn't require milk. I like tea, and I like milk, but separately, thank you very much. I experienced a similar epiphany in my relationship with coffee. As with the tea, everyone assumed that if I couldn't cope with the taste of coffee even when diluted with milk or in coffee-flavoured chocolates (yuck), I certainly wouldn't be able to deal with the unadulterated variety, so for a long time no drop of pure black coffee had ever passed my lips. On holiday in Florence for my 21st birthday, however, my mum persuaded me that I couldn't come to Italy without attempting a sip or two. Spurning her suggestion of an early morning frothy cappuccino to ease myself in, I opted instead for the rich tang of a tiny espresso. I have never looked back. I blame the Italian sunshine for turning my head.

Now that I've discovered that I am a tea drinker after all, I'm always on the look out for pretty and unusual teacups and mugs to liven up my morning (or afternoon ... or evening) tea break. In fact, no doubt my subconscious was willing me to like tea and coffee for years, just to give me yet another excuse for storing up beautiful pieces of crockery in the cupboard, not to mention silver tea-strainers for all those gorgeous packets of loose-leaf teas I just had to buy when I found myself wandering round the ground floor of Fortnum and Mason. I mean, these things always taste better when they're nicely presented...

One of my favourite mugs is the aptly named Sophia Peek-A-Boo mug from the wonderful Crumpet and Skirt, which I told you about last year. The shop's range has expanded from when I last posted about them, with some new lovely ladies gracing their mugs and cards, but Sophia still holds a firm place in my heart. I can't help smiling every time I drain the dregs from my cup and she pops up again at the bottom:

Perhaps this is the reason I've been drawn to a similarly fun-loving range which I found whilst browsing over at LifeStyleBazarre: always a good place to go if you're on the search for beautiful and quirky homewares. I'm now totally smitten with the Blaue Blume range by Tina Tsang of Undergrowth Designs, especially since some of the pieces are in the sale...

Sadly, sale or no sale, I don't think I can quite stretch to the entire range, but it is hard to resist a teacup whose handle is a sexy pair of legs ending in a pair of enticing red shoes. Although even at sale price, I think I'd be the only one to be drinking out of it!

Blaue Blume teacup and saucer, £35 (reduced from £45)

If I wanted more of a centre piece, I could go for this teapot from the same range, whose handle is formed from a pair of delicately crossed legs tipped with shiny gold shoes...

Blaue Blume teapot, £59 (reduced from £79)

... or perhaps this rather magnificently decadent cake stand, which I absolutely loved until I spotted the rather creepy baby's head at the bottom!

Blaue Blume cake stand, £139

Or how about bathing in sugar? Judging from the joyous kick of this lady's legs, it could be rather fun. I don't take sugar in my tea or coffee, but this sugar bath might just persuade me to answer 'yes':

Blaue Blume sugar bath, £44

If lithe legs on display at the table isn't quite your cup of tea, the range also offers some rather more subdued, but still very pretty options, such as this aptly named cake plate, which just needs a nice slice of something yummy to live up to its promise:

Blaue Blume small cake plate, £18

Mmm, I'm hungry already. Any one of these would be a feast to look upon, as well as eat from, for -- to steal a phrase from Sir W's 1601 essay 'Of Conceipt' -- they are

'a very merriment to the eyes'.

Of A Happy Purchase

This lovely lady expresses the feelings of joy I'm experiencing at the moment, thanks to my recent purchase (finally!) of a new camera. At the moment, Rose Dancer is adorning my bedroom wall, as she's the Miss April for my current calendar. This year I decided to go for the Erte calendar by Flame Tree Publishing. I adore Erte's designs, and this one from 1984 shows that he lost none of his talent over the course of his long life (Erte, or Romain de Tirtoff, lived from 1892 to 1990. The pseudonym came from the French pronunciation of his initials). I've been enjoying turning over the page each month to be greeted by another beautiful figure, and a quick glance down the Erte page at Flame Tree shows me that I might just have found a good place to buy my Christmas cards this year (it never hurts to be prepared!):

The only problem would be choosing which design to pick (and these are only a few of the ones on offer!), but at only £4.99 for a pack of twelve (plus postage), I might not be forced to stick at just one...

I am beyond excited to have a camera in my hot little hands once again, and can't wait to get out there and start using it. In fact, I think it will be having its very first outing this evening, as I'm off to London later to spend an evening with friends and particularly to catch up with one friend who is back in the UK on a flying visit from a six month work placement in Athens. My latest purchase is very well timed! I love having pictorial reminders of events -- large and small -- in my life, and although I've enjoyed a bit of retro chic with the odd disposable camera over the past few months, I have really missed having my digital camera constantly at my side. I'm looking forward to once again being able to express myself and share my experiences through photos here on my blog too. For (to quote Sir W in his 1601 essay 'Of Trappes for Fame'), sometimes

'my picture can doe this, better than I'.

Of The BookBook

Part of the reason I've decided I should start doing some more exercise (hence the pole dancing, *ahem*) is my fear that, thanks to spending the majority of my days hunched over a desk, I am going to turn into a wizened, hump-backed old crone before I hit thirty. It's not just brooding over my books that worries me, either, but also the process of hauling my reading material and laptop to the library in the first place. With my bulging laptop case slung across me, I go along the street veering to one side like a sailing ship struggling against a strong breeze, so actually it's perhaps not my back I need to worry about, but rather one shoulder ending up about five inches higher than the other.

It's not just the physical discomfort that troubles me, however, but also just the inescapable ugliness of my laptop case, which is a very plain, functional black one into which no aesthetic thought has been put whatsoever. I've been thinking for some time about buying something rather prettier to replace it, and having come across these MacBook covers (known as the BookBook) from design company Twelve South, I wonder if my search might be over before it's even started. Twelve South designs accessories exclusively for Mac users, of which I am one (and a very happy convert since my move to my shiny new MacBook at the start of my D.Phil), and I came across them thanks to the ever-wonderful India Knight's Posterous. Do take a look at India Knight's site if you haven't already, by the way, as it's a wonderful source of shopping/present-buying/design/generally tempting information. I also heartily recommend her lovely book The Shops, which is a fantastic shopping guide but also happens to be very well-written and funny. How can you go wrong with a woman who is a fan of Georgette Heyer, the Officina Profumo Farmaceutica di Santa Maria Novella, and eyebrow threading. Anything she suggests is going to be worth checking out (well, ok, she did recommend Ugg Boots in her book, I suppose, but nobody's perfect).

Anyway, to get back to the BookBooks. They're just the right side of kitsch and you can probably tell right away why I like them:

BookBook MacBook cover, $79.99

The inside is all soft and snuggly to cushion your precious little MacBook and the covers are hard and tough to protect it from harm. The website suggests that one of the benefits is that the covers also disguise your MacBook and therefore make it less subject to theft. I'm not sure this would work for me, however: in the circles I move in, something that looks like an old book is probably more vulnerable to wandering hands than a spanking new laptop!

The only problem, of course, is that the BookBook is only a protective cover: I'd still need something to put it in to transport it and my books to and fro. So even if I were to give in to temptation with this little fellow, I'd still be able to seek out a pretty laptop travel case as well. Isn't that what's known as a win-win situation? In any case, surely I can't go wrong in buying something called a BookBook, for, as Sir W said in his 1600 essay 'Of the Obseruation, and vse of things',

'all kindes of bookes are profitable'.

Of Crumpet & Skirt

Perhaps it's the whole pole dancing thing that's drawn me to the wonderful range at Crumpet & Skirt (is that not the most amazing company name?). I've only just come across them, but already I absolutely adore all of the products for sale in their online shop, and I think it's only a matter of time before some of their pin-up beauties wing their way towards my letter box. So far, you can choose between mugs, cards, wrapping paper, and even a tea towel, all decorated with saucy images of glamorous pin-up girls from the 1940s and '50s. All the girls are named after the film stars that the company's creator -- Elizabeth Pinnock -- thinks they most resemble, from Marilyn Monroe through to Veronica Lake.

I'm sad that I didn't discover the site in time for Christmas, as I'd have loved to have sent this coquettish Santa's Little Helper through the post:

Santa Baby Greetings Card, £1.50

Perhaps I'll make the most of the post-Christmas sale and take advantage of the fact that a pack of five is now only £6. After all, there's nothing like being well prepared. In the meantime, of course, I could always go for the non-festive version:

Rita Greetings Card, £2.49

Although I'm awfully tempted by this blonde beauty with her slinky long black gloves -- always a glamourous accessory for any girl, but this lady takes things to a whole new level:

Veronica Greetings Card, £2.49

It's so hard to decide between the various vintage lovelies that to stop my head from exploding with the effort, I might just be forced to go for this set of four designs:

Greeting Cards Set, £10

The lovely Veronica is also available decorating a tea towel, and this Tease Maid would be a great way to turn up the heat in the kitchen:

Veronica Tea Towel, £6.49

Just in case you're looking for something to dry with that towel, you could do a lot worse than this cheeky little Peek-A-Boo mug, which I loved on sight. Its pure white exterior looks extremely innocent, but I'd love to see the look on your guest's face when they finish their tea and find the naughty little surprise awaiting them at the bottom:

Sophia Peek-A-Boo Mug, £7.49

And don't worry, I'm not completely selfish -- as well as lusting after all of these for myself, I also think they'd make really fun gifts. After all, I need an excuse to buy some of this divine wrapping paper, don't I?

Pin-Up Wrapping Paper (4 sheets), £8

If only I could tie bows so neatly!

I'm certain that fun-loving Sir W would have been charmed to receive a card with one of these lovely ladies decorating the front. In his 1600 essay 'Of Resolution', he describes

'the strange alterations of men vpon slight occasions, at the receit of a letter, yea, before the reading'.

If the post contained one of Crumpet & Skirt's cards, I think it would be easy enough to understand why no reading would be necessary!

Of Wallpaper and Caravans

I recently read this interesting interview on Yell Softly with Lisa Borgnes Giramonti of the entrancing blog A Bloomsbury Life. The entire interview has sent me scurrying to various parts of the internet: to find out more about the books Lisa recommends, or check out particular designers. But I was particularly intrigued to find out more about the 'Genuine Fake Bookcase' wallpaper by Deborah Bowness which Lisa has in her dining room. I'd rather line my walls with real books, but I still couldn't resist a closer look at this, so I hurried off to the Bowness site immediately:

This then sparked another journey, as I clicked to find out where one can buy the wallpaper in the UK (ok, so I haven't got a house to decorate, and won't have for some considerable time, but that doesn't stop my domestic fantasies), and was delighted to find that her London distributer is the quaintly named Caravan, a shop in London's Shoreditch. The reason for my delight was that I had actually stumbled across the shop itself whilst wandering around in East London some time ago, had loved its range of eccentric, lovely homeware and gift ideas, and had then promptly forgotten about. So to be reminded of its existence was a boon indeed, especially as Christmas is coming up and they have an online shop...

The Bowness wallpaper -- both the bookcases and other designs -- they have on offer is beautiful indeed, but at £150 a strip, even if I did have a place of my own, I might have to reign in my temptations...

Happily, though, there are plenty of other, rather more affordable but equally tempting bits and pieces on offer in their online store, so I thought I'd share a few of my favourites here.

As I've mentioned on other occasions, I love a nice cup of tea, and when that tea is of the loose leaf variety, I think this would be a particularly pretty tea strainer to use:

Rose tea strainer, £12.50

To accompany my morning pot of tea, I might decide to have a boiled egg, complete, of course, with soldiers to dip into it, in which case this would a perfect addition to my table:

Egg and soldiers set, £18

Always an accessories girl, my eye was naturally caught by these cute little handbags, which could hold photos or equally function as name settings at a dinner party:

Handbag card holders, £18

Finally, I always love to have candles around, so these angel wing decorations would be a great festive twist for any candlelit meal:

Candle wings, £4.95 - £8.95

These would all, I think, make rather nice Christmas gifts. Once again, however, now I must leave these frivolities behind and betake myself back to the library. I have a wine tasting this evening and some friends and I are meeting for sushi first (yum!), so I must stop thinking of Christmas presents and give Sir W & Co. my full attention for the time being. For as Sir W rather somberly pointed out in his 1600 essay 'Of Behaviour', compared to the purchase of trinkets, however lovely,

'The gifts of the minde are not so easily obtained, these you must purchase with paine, and difficulty; and great reason, for it were pitty such preciousnesse might be had for the taking'.

Of Keeping Cosy

The rain is lashing down outside, and I am snuggled up under the blankets with a lovely hot cup of tea, thanking the stars for wireless internet and laptops. I waved goodbye to my friend this morning as she caught her bus back to Cambridge (rather her than me -- the damn thing takes THREE AND A HALF HOURS, including the thirty minutes it apparently takes to change drivers in Bedford. Oh, and the hour it seems to take to drive around Milton Keynes' interminable roundabouts). Now, I'm relaxing at home for a while before braving the weather once more to strike out into town and go for a late lunch at The Royal Oak on St Gile's: a cosy pub which serves up an excellent Sunday roast.

Meanwhile, I have been amusing myself by perusing Etsy from beneath the comforting warmth of my duvet. In order to drive away the air of gloom which is threatening to pervade my room thanks to the menacing gusts of wind driving the rain onto my window, I've been considering a few of the bits and pieces that might cheer up a cold, rainy day such as this.

Although I'm not sure how well it would cope in the wet, I really like this unusual coat from Little Houses Clothing. I adore the huge collar with its lace trim, and it looks lovely and warm, as well as being pretty. And even the name is apt considering my period of study:

Shakespeare's Sister Coat, $395

I've also fallen in love with these cute cashmere leg warmers (no, I never thought I'd be writing those words either, but these are special) from Adventures of Jessica Rose. The colours are stunning, and with the little bows at the top, I think they'd look great peeping out above a pair of long boots too:

Cashmere Legwarmers in Lavender and Raisin, $85

Before venturing outside, I think I might want to slather on some protective lip balm to counteract the vicious weather November has brought, and this delicious offering from the lovely Marie Antoinette's Patisserie Collection at Vintage Bella might be just the ticket:

Pink Cake Lip Balm, $3

A little pampering of the rest of me with this Lap of Luxury Soap (ah yes, always a phrase I like to hear -- and not just with soap at the end of it) from the wonderful range at Seattle Sundries wouldn't go amiss either:

Lap of Luxury Soap, $9.50

I must admit, however, that on a day like this, part of me is quite happy just to stay indoors, curled up with a hot drink, a few biscuits, and a good book (I'm happy to report that so far, Stone's Fall is definitely meeting the demands of that last category!). But that's no reason not to look stylish, as the 'loungerie' (love it!) offered by plumprettysugar makes clear, with stay-at-home wear bright enough to cheer up the most dismal day:

Kimono Style Robe, $124

And if I were always to drink tea out of cups as lovely as this one from House of Harriet, I would be a happy girl indeed. Combining cats and tea, the entire Amsterdam Cats colletion can hardly fail to charm me:

Amsterdam Cats Big Hand-painted Mug, $60

For now, however, I will return to my current cup (which is itself rather pretty, even if it doesn't have a cat on it), and get a few more chapters in before I have to get up and pull out my umbrella. Although, as I've been writing, I could kid myself that the sun has started to peer through the clouds, and although the wind is still buffeting the walls, it's not howling quite so loudly as before. But I think I'll pack my umbrella anyway, just in case.

Sir W too bewails the weather upon occasion, although, as this excerpt from his 1600 essay 'Of Fame' makes clear, his concerns are rather more lofty than any I might have about the rain spoiling my clothes...:

'History hath added to my naturall desire of louing fame: I was there set afire with conuersing with braue spirits. I like deeds well, but they were not within my reache, and so I sought to buy what my stock would reach to: though I cannot clime so well as Caesar, yet I shoulde thinke my selfe happy if I could but get vp his Stile. But he was a Romane borne, and borne vnder a climate of more wit: we are so colde, and so dull, that we thinke of nothing beyond the compasse of our inheritance, iust like the Swissers we will lose no ground; leaue vs in durt, and finde vs in durt. The Graecians and the Romanes were Monarches of the world, not by sitting still, and keeping themselues warme, but Industry and Aduenture were the wings that made them fly high. We will aduenture vpon noting except it be on a surfit, and sixe pence at Tables'.