Of Being Tempted

I recently came across the delicious site that is Fey Handmade, with all its wonderful goodies. How could I not be entranced by a company with a range called 'November in Paris'? At the moment I must admit that it is only really the nearly $20 international shipping charge which is putting me off succumbing to temptation. (Any lucky people in the US get shipping for FREE!) These are just a few of my lust-after pieces:

Peacock Earrings, $28

I love peacocks on accessories, and indeed some of my favourite stationery is this set of note cards which I picked up on that trip to Florence I mentioned yesterday. I bought them at a wonderful shop called Il Papiro, along with a couple of other beautiful things:

I always like a good cup of tea, and when it's in a pretty teacup I find it tastes all the better, so of course this tea towel immediately appealed:

Teacup Tea Towel, $11

On the subject of Tea (something I really must blog about properly one of these days, it occurs to me), I'd also like to try these scrumptious sounding soaps:

Jasmine Tea Soap, $6

Rooibos Tea Soap, $6

Redbush tea was a favourite of mine long before I discovered Mma Ramotswe (although I'm pleased to sip in such illustrious company), and the delicate fragrance of jasmine always manages to soothe and refresh.

I love both cameos and horses, so this necklace is a perfect combination:

Horse and Foal Necklace, $32

Perhaps it's a good thing I'm not eligible for free shipping -- the most recent installment of my AHRC grant might be disappearing rather quickly! Although, as it is, it does come to the point when, if one buys enough, the shipping cost suddenly appears really rather reasonable... Perhaps I should just give up and accept the inevitable for, as Sir W rather wryly pointed out in his essay 'Of Judgment' (1601),

'All are tempted, many yeeld, few hould out'.

And where pretty things are concerned, I must admit that I somehow generally find myself in the latter category!

Of Combining Necessity and Frivolity

I read this article today, which claims that Heels are Out and Flats are In. Perhaps, perhaps, but although I like a pretty ballet pump as much as the next girl, I'm not sure that the trend for blockish, boyish loafers is one that I'll be following. I am, without a doubt, a heels girl, and wear them practically every day. Today, however, was an exception, for this was the day for breaking in The Walking Boots. I must admit that I've been putting this off ever since I bought them - wearing them at a secluded chalet I accept as a grim necessity, but wearing them around town is another thing entirely. But as we leave for France on Thursday evening, I realised that unless I want to spend next weekend hobbling around like an injured goat, the time, as they say, had come. As a consequence, I have spent today feeling rather as if I had a couple of car tyres strapped to my feet. I admit that The Boots coped admirably with the infamous cobbles around Radcliffe Square, and one might think that this would endear them to me, so often have I complained about the difficulties of crossing this little patch in my usual footwear. It did make me feel that I will no doubt be glad of them when skipping around the rocky mountaintops (can one skip in car tyres, I wonder?), but otherwise, all I felt was a perverse craving for my heels, despite their tempestuous relationship with the cobblestones. Call me masochistic if you will...

I felt so glum after a few hours clomping around like this that I decided to remind myself that I was still a girl by treating myself to a couple of feminine fripperies as far removed from The Boots as possible. I was given this beautiful bracelet by skirmishofwit as a birthday gift at the weekend...

... so how was I to resist when I slipped into Aspire and found these lovely earrings which will match it so well?

After cheering myself with this little purchase, I made my way to M&S to buy supplies for my evening meal, and while I was there I popped into the lingerie section where I picked up a delightful little set in pink and purple silk. I may have to confine my outer garb to The Boots and their ilk while I am at the chalet, following Sir W's advice here - taken from the 1600 essay 'Of Fantasticknesse':

'For Clothes, he that shunnes singularity (for from singularity comes eyther Disdaine, or Enuy), let his Attire be conformable to Custome, and change with Company.' 

But at least I can bask in the satisfaction of knowing that underneath, at least, frivolity reigns supreme!