Heels and Bowties

First let me give you a glimpse of my last couple of weeks where I seem to have dropped off the face of the earth or at least the blogging part of it as I just have not written anything in quite some time. It has been quite a strenuous couple of weeks of tests for me with the last one culminating to five tests in one week and I know to the adult world a test is just some joke that doesn’t stand up to actual jobs and paying bills and all those tiring things you keep warning us of but for a tired and emotionally strained 18 year old it can end up being quite stressful and time consuming. Something I battled with was focussing and I didn’t want to even give myself the temptation of writing a blog when I was so far away from completing my studies. Along with this I also went through some (more) personal and emotional issues which rocked me a little more than expected and for the most part I became an empty unenthusiastic and stressed shell of a person and I threw aside my personality not willing to deal with myself and how I felt for the most part.

But after giving myself a weekend to sleep, recuperate and improve my happiness I have finally felt the enthusiasm to once again blog. How exciting!

Before the test season we, my fellow engineering-wannabes and I, had one last bash. It was hosted by the Capetonian in our midst at his house (when your life revolves around residence rooms, their rules and tiny size an actual House is a rare and exciting phenomenon). The theme was formal which posed a slight challenge for me as I had not bought a mass supply on fancy clothing down to Cape Town with me. Plus it was cold. I only had black stockings which didn’t go with my dresses or my shoes so that was a no go. I wanted to wear pants and a smart shirt to almost mimic a man’s typical formal outfit as a joke to my mainly male dominated engineering friends but sadly the fanciest pants I have are jeans and that seemed a bit of a let-down and I wouldn’t have been able to look better than the suit-clad-bowtie-wearing boys, so it would have pointless. So after a frantic call to my friend, and fellow fashionista, I managed to score myself her black midi skirt which comes more to knee length than midi on me as she is tiny but none the less I felt retro and classy. I paired it with a loose formal white button-up shirt leaving my outfit vaguely reminiscent of my previous idea. I wore (the only high heels I had in cape town – so not much of a choice but I love them regardless so it didn’t matter too much) my turquoise wedges which are still my favourite pair of heels and have seen me through many a fancy event. I threw over my new black coat. I bought it at the end of last winter choosing, on a meagre student budget, to look in the end-of-season-sale for the new item in my coat collection. It is a large structured black coat with striking zip detail and a dramatic collar and I always feel like I could walk into my job as a head of a Highstreet clothing brand wearing the thing. I matched my turquoise clutch with the shoes. The clutch never disappoints with its silver hardware and pleather feel and I am always looking for an opportunity to use it. I then added my classic Jemma twist. This time it was adding my favourite necklace. The traditional orange beaded accessory clashed both in colour and style yet bought the outfit together and made it stand out.

Closer view of the coat detail

Close up of my favourite beads (better then any bowtie)

Background part is in full swing

Fifi (the skirt-loaning friend) fittingly and unknowingly also wore black and white with her added piece of African ‘bling’. Her outfit was classy and simple with a straight black dress and classic white heels but with an oversized denim jacket to add some character to the look. You can check out her thought provoking discussion of it and its connections to her role and being as a black woman in fashion and South Africa at http://www.allzuri.blogspot.com/ .

It was a fun evening filled with Champaign (for my friends) and orange juice (for sober me) and the classic formal feast of pizza (the biggest pizza’s I’ve ever seen). Vinyl’s were played (briefly) then other less retro sounds, alcohol infused board games were competed in and for a brief moment we all pretended we didn’t have engineering homework due on the Monday.

I liked having an excuse to dress up and can’t wait for round two.

Mom’s Closet

Hi all,

I know it has been far too long but here I am, back with a short fashion post as usual.

This one is a bit of a throwback from when I had my mid-semester vac in Johannesburg and I had left basically all of my clothes in Cape Town (for optimum bag space) and I delved into my mother’s collection of clothes.

You will probably recognize the jeans as being my own ripped, black, much-loved Mr Price pair and the blue clutch being a bright accessory that yes does belong to me but the rest of the outfit is not mine.

(Okay the sunglasses are mine but I am not mentioning those as they broke during this shoot at the tender age of two months – tut tut Woolworths I am unimpressed)

The top, oh the glorious top that I came very close to smuggling back to Cape Town, is my mothers. I don’t know where she found it but I think its obvious that a good fashion sense is something I inherited from the mama-bear. It is a light and over-sized white cotton shirt which elegantly bridges the gap between formal and casual. I think in the week I was home I wore the shirt three times (yes it is that versatile – perfect for university- wink wink mother).

The shoes, an item which has also been seen before on this blog, are also my mom’s and the only pair of her shoes that I can squeeze my feet into. I paired them with some cute frilly white socks and a confident walk and felt like I could step into the business world there and then and I would have fit in, or I could have been comfortable at a lunch with friends, or a fancy date… and really the list goes on.

It’s about time my mom’s closet got the spotlight as really she is where I got my initial inspiration from… maybe when I get back to Joburg you’ll have to have a whole shoot to yourself Mom!

x J

(oh and how cool is my cover, it is a strong cover for my iPhone 5 – needed as I am always dropping it – but the best part is it has my name on it. It is from a cute little shop called Macaroon in Joburg and is one of the best buys I have ever made http://www.macaroon.co/macaroon/content/en/macaroon/home)

Second-hand markets and Spontaneity

Last week I was feeling very spur of the moment and so (on a whim) I went to a second hand market with a friend of mine. It’s not that it’s an unusual idea to picture me at a second hand market (in fact I think I fit in quite well), that day however was one full of admin based activities and other errands and I had intended to keep it that way but had, with very little persuasion, in the end decided to throw that to the curb and go on an adventure. This took me to The Great Wizoo, vaguely crusty looking venue (I think an old sports club). It had makeshift tables and stalls put together in and around it like a five-year-old’s attempt at a puzzle and had a loud vibrant atmosphere… And if ever ‘hipsters’ existed they could be found there both buying and selling. I had (not expecting to do such shopping) only one hundred rand in my pocket to spend. Which, although hindered my buying abilities, was probably good in the long run as I couldn’t buy too much. I still however succeeded to buy a skirt, two shirts, a chain necklace and a cute little cactus in a mug (which is currently in need of a name – I want something typically South African but haven’t been hit with inspiration yet. Ideas?).

I also (borrowing some money for this part because by this stage the 100 was done) invested in a pretty henna pattern on my arm – another spur-of-the-moment decision.

When I was later putting together an outfit for my next fashion post I obviously couldn’t wait to wear some of my new clothes (throwing my original idea out the window – “dressing to mood – black is back”)

Anyway… Hence today’s look.

I have been searching for a midi skirt for a very long time – and I mean a very long time. But not only are they rare but the two I have managed to find didn’t fit me and were bad quality. So when I saw this one for only R25 I didn’t even hesitate. And I’m glad I didn’t. I love it. I like the vintage (yes maybe slightly granny-ish) pattern and the soft flow of the skirt. It fits me perfectly and I’m pretty sure I’ll never see another person wearing it. I paired it with an equally vintage looking, collared white shirt that I found in my cupboard after years of it not seeing the light of day. Yes maybe the collar was due to spending the day with hipsters but hey occasionally I follow the up-and-coming crowd. I then as a last minute (spur of the moment) thing I put on my still favourite necklace and which I’m sorry if you’re tired of but tough. I just got these new cute little white socks with a rim of lace around the top which I think are adorable, so adorable that I actually spent money on them myself. Okay and he’s maybe the dirty old blue sneakers are a bit of a let down and I’m sorry. I realise my current shoe collection is a whopping let down but it seems to be a fashion block for me right now which as hard as I try I am battling to pull myself out of I have not yet succeeded. The stylish world of good footwear still eludes me.

On an added note: this outfit makes me happy when I wear it which is always the best part of the look so I am pretty impressed.

x J

A Poem for Patrick

In memory of Patrick Roberts,

I remember

I remember us as kids

I remember you and me always keeping each other at a wary distance (little boys are gross – little girls are scary)

But still you were always there

Always laughing

I remember us

Later

Recently

We were walking down a road discussing ice cream

and our dreams.

I said something sarcastic and you couldn’t stop chuckling.

I remember promising we’d meet up,

Soon,

A few weeks time…

And I never doubted that future.

I never doubted that enthusiasm and excitement.

And I am sorry

I am so sorry dear friend

I am sorry that your dreams failed you

And I am sorry that I failed you.

But I remember

Oh dear, I remember you

And I always will.

By Jemma Richmond 

Live Music

Hi all,

On Friday I finished my first half of a semester of University. (I wish I could paste sound effects into my writing – here I would place that cheesy clapping cheer that is played in old TV series). It was a great relief and I am very much ready for a break. I flew home on Saturday surrounded by many of my peers relieved, like me, and most, unlike me, hungover (which lead to amusing expressions on their faces when turbulence hit).

My first job as I got back was to be sent off as a chaperon for my sister and her friends to the One Direction (minus one) concert. I’m not a fan, there music isn’t aweful and they certainly aren’t ugly, but their music is just not my type of music. Regardless I went along and I was excited because a concert vibe is always cool and I hadn’t spent time with my sister in about two months and I was thrilled that I would get to party with her for the whole evening.

We were seated in the very back row at the very top so if you squinted you could sort of see the little men running around on stage and, based on the colour of their t-shirts, guess who was who. The concert for me was average. The vibe was average (I think the screaming teenage girl factor put a dampen on the evening). The performance was average. After watching Bon Jovi, a man with great experience, on the very same stage it was hard for the barely-more-than-teenage boys to live up to him. They also seemed a little stiff, understandably, after losing their fifth member. If I am honest they weren’t that bad and the ‘directioners’ had a ball but it just wasn’t my type of music.

Cape Town I have discovered makes live music far more accessible than it was in Joburg and I have been able to watch a couple of live shows since arrving. These are South African bands who sing good, interesting, natural music that sounds like once upon a time it was practiced for hours in someones garage. So far I have seen Beatenberg, Gangs of Ballet, Desmond and the Tutus and some smaller bands including Early Hours, the Pranks and others. This has been a far more enjoyable experience of music than with the masses at FNB stadium watching a franchise on 8 legs.I watched some of the bands at a Kirstenbosch Summer Sunday Concert (a regular event in the Early months of Cape Town set at the incredible botanical gardens). You take a picnic and pick a spot on the lawn and then listen to the music while admiring the beauty of the Gardens. Beatenberg is a band I have liked since I watched them live at the Bastille concert at the beginning of last year and Gangs of Ballet was an added bonus. Because both bands are still relatively small, they have to rely quite heavily on their live performances and because the setting is more intimate their sound ends up being more natural and to my ears more beautiful. I even got to meet Beatenberg (who are very cool in person) and I took a Polaroid with them. I would just reflect on this…. I TOOK A POLAROID WITH ONE OF MY FAVOURITE BANDS (and I think they may have been more excited about it than I was) now do you think you could say that about One Direction?

The other bands I saw at a club/venue place in town called ‘The Assembly’ which hosts live bands and seems to be hipster watering hole in Cape Town. It is also relatively small and we got pretty close and personal with the performing bands (and afterwards managed to do some creepy fan-girling and met a few members). Desomond and the Tutus are crazy and incredible to watch because the lead singer is insane on stage. Maybe they have this luxury because they aren’t performing for 90000 people at a time but they also appear to have a different care-free attitude while on stage.

Since arriving in Cape Town I have had so many opportunities to watch and experience live music and I think this helping to keep my soul content (and balances out the excessive maths my brain is being harassed with)

I hope you are enjoying your week so far.

x J

Back to Basics

I spent my entire school career at a school which required a uniform. The non-creative monotony of blue tablecloth checks which controlled my fashion life in high school were good for one thing: I did not have to wake up every morning and decide what to wear. Since coming to university I have come to realise the daily struggle of getting up and having to concentrate my energy on coming up with a unique, practical, weather-appropriate and fashionable outfit. Honestly, the process is exhausting but I have built up a new appreciation for the basics and their versatility.

I have now noticed that one can never have too many white t-shirts but I definitely have too few. One of my only ones is this MrPrice item. There is not much descriptive to be said about white T-shirts (I mean it is pretty self explanatory). This one has a V-neck and has a slightly longer back hem than front hem but it is simple enough. It goes with everything. I am going to start scouting for some more plain white Ts and I think if you are looking at investing in your fashion collection, concentrate on the basics first and one of the most important is the plain white T-Shirt. I even think that this is more crucial than  (style gods please don’t hit me for saying this) the Little Black Dress.

Another great basic is the perfect pair of blue jeans. Now as you might be able to see mine are becoming a bit loose and are starting to fade but in their prime they fit me like a glove, were the perfect depth of dark blue and made me think those jeans were made for a greater purpose than stretching over my thighs and ‘bootay’. This obviously meant that I wore the jeans to death (okay not quite death, not even close as they are clearly still wearable but still they aren’t the perfect pair of jeans I once had). Finding a pair of good jeans, the right pair of good jeans, will change your fashion-life. You see a good pair of jeans will be with you when you need them, they will support you when you are feeling confused and uninspired, they will get along with every shirt in your cupboard and they have this unrealistic power of producing a confidence boost every-time you put them on.

The accessories for this outfit – which are crucial for a basic outfit – were my beach inspire sandals, my old owl pendant and chain which is beginning to age but I think it looks cooler that way, and my purple CottonOn sweater which is a personal staple piece as it goes with everything that I own ( I haven’t succeeded in finding something I cant wear it with so far)

I would also just like to mention the beauty of the day I took these photos on. It was the day that the Cape Epic began. It’s start was from UCT and so I went and watched for a brief moment. I wish that I enjoyed running or cycling because when ever I go to these events (and I spend a lot of time waiting at the start and finish behind the supporter line) because their is such an atmosphere of energy and festivities.The athletes are reaching the moment that they have been training for, for months and possibly even years and that ‘goal-reaching’ excitement is very inspiring. At the Epic’s start this is coupled with the background of UCT and Devil’s Peak and it makes for a great way to spend a Sunday morning.

x J

(P.S. It’s test week currently so please excuse the lack of posts)

Valedictory

On Wednesday was my last day of high school… ever. I still have to write my exams but I never have to go to a day of school again. Dont ask me if I feel any different because so far I don’t. I think this is because right now I just feel like I am on holiday and I still have to be on the school property again so it wasn’t final goodbyes. The day does symbolise a lot however. It  means that this part of m life is over. The part of my life where I am a child, where responsibility is cushioned and I’ve lived in a bubble is all over. Many people have asked me whether I am scared for the future and I have to admit I am not. I am nervous, nervous that I mess up but I am also excited because I get to fix it. Things I do, I really will do. No mommy to help me, no school looking over my shoulders and nobody waiting with a pillow incase I fall. I get to truly create my own destiny and I am so excited!

To celebrate our rather large step in to adulthood we had Valedictory on Wednesday. This is a chance for us to commemorate the last 12 years of school and the time we have spent together as a grade. It is there to say thank you to our parents and teachers for putting up with us well we navigated high school and it is there for us to say goodbye to our class mates. It is weird feeling, one I can’t quite comprehend because I have known some of these girls since I was three years old. Many of them have been with me for most of my life and it feels strange to think that some I wont ever see again. I find myself looking at my grade and thinking in only a few years time some of us will have jobs, some might be married and a few might even have children. We are 18, a couple of days ago we were in uniform groaning because we had to go to a science class but now we are adults and with that comes everything else adult and that is the part that makes me nervous. But even this is hard to logically get a hold of, on Wednesday night most of us were more concerned with what would the best way to celebrate this new freedom.

The Valedictory consisted of a service in our school chapel (St Mary’s is an Anglican private girls school so one must allow it this event) where our Chaplin blessed our future and said goodbye. This we attended in our uniform but as soon as we got out we got to get changed into cocktail dresses and high heels. We changed at school and in the changing rooms one could have found a row of girls in varying degrees of clothing all with make up brushes to their faces leaning close to the mirror, most with the mouths open in concentration as they applied mascara and swapped make up tips. From there we made our way to the Wanderers club where one of the dinning rooms was decorated in the school colours of red and white and the loud din of over excited girls and confused parents could be heard. I say confused because I believe that all the parents there couldn’t quite believe there darling angels were finishing high school.

The night was filled with speeches and thank-yous. We were advised on how to go about our futures, and prayed for and a couple of teaches made fun of some of the parents and students commemorating achievements like, being late for school the most or being in sick bay the most or writing the longest emails. we laughed and shouted and had a good time and some even cried. We had been gifted a year book where we each got a page with our baby photo, current photo and answers about what and where we wanted to be in the future. We also each got a bear. A plain white bear with a red St Mary’s ribbon. It came with a marker and we spent the night swapping bears and writing messages so that by the end of the evening the bear was more black squiggles than white.

I really enjoyed the evening. Nobody was fighting and nobody was being rude because I think we all wanted to leave each other on a good note.

My high school world is one I am glad to be leaving but it is also one that I will never forget. Thank you to everyone who made it so special because I did enjoy it despite my various rants. I was privileged enough to have family and friends that were there for me through the really horrendous times and the absolutely incredible ones. Now I am looking forward to the next stage of my life.

Princess for a night

In South Africa, in the last year of school, one of the highlights of the year is the Matric Dance. It is a night similar to the American prom night (I think) and allows one all the excuses to dress up as fancy as one can go. We spend weeks picking the right dress, the right accessories and of course the right date. Mine was quite early in the year but I was fortunate enough to be invited by two of my friends to go to their dances quite recently.

The first was on the 20th of September (right in the middle of my exams) and it was the St Johns dance. I went with a friend of mine who spoilt me with a beautiful bunch of flowers which I wish could have lasted forever. The evening was beautiful and as it belonged to one of the top schools in the country it had a budget beyond our dreams so every detail from the table settings to the lighting was out of this world. It had a winter wonderland theme and the room was a wash of soft white shapes with silver and blue bits completing it. They even had an ice sculpture on the way in (a bit of a waste of money especially since it got brutally hailed on but still made my mouth open with awe). We were lucky enough to arrive before the rain started (yes it rained – this is a bit of a tradition for St Johns dances) so it didn’t dampen our evening although it did soak some people. I witnessed girls trying to dry their dresses and hair in the bathroom hand dryers because they were so wet, but even those girls had smiles on their faces because the evening was incredible. It was peaceful and memorizing. The boy who was my date for the evening was sweet and polite (the kind of polite that verges on sexism) and he took good care of me. For what ever reason the girls at my school are very closely linked with the St Johns boys so there were lots of people who I knew there. My best friend even sat next to me for dinner. I didn’t end up going to the after party as I had an exam on the monday but I don’t know how much I missed considering that it was a roof top party and it had poured with hail and rain only a couple of hours earlier.

Obviously the most exciting part of the evening for me was getting to dress up. I didn’t buy a dress but because I have a class of 111 girls all of whom got dressed for our dance, I had a huge selection to choose from. It is an unofficial agreement int he school girl code to share dresses and so I had my pick of the beautiful gowns but I knew exactly which one I wanted. When I first saw it, I fell in love. When my friend said hello to me at our dance dressed like she was out of a fairytale, the picture of perfection I knew I had to wear it. She designed the dress herself and it is a beautiful soft blue and white dress that has a full skirt and comes in at the waist. It is modest and simple yet elegant. I had to obviously give my twist to it which is why I matched it with clashing coral clutch and due to a slight height difference I couldn’t wear heels so I ended up in matching coral sandals. I felt beautiful, I felt comfortable and i had a wonderful evening.

The second dance was with an old family friend of mine. He goes to Parktown Boys High. This is a government school in Johannesburg. This dance was completely different. The people, the budget, the setting and the atmosphere were worlds apart from the St John’s one but still enjoyable. Both the boys and the girls were more relaxed as it wasn’t as hyped up as the previous one. Sadly there weren’t many girls that I knew there. I did make friends with some of the girls at our table but it would have been nice to have some friendly faces around however my date was there and he was more than sufficient. His friends were I think it’s safe to say, insane but they were friendly and nice and extremely entertaining. Because my date is a prefect we had to open the dance with a waltz. I can’t waltz but neither could anyone else so we just looked like a clump of chaos but it was fun and light-hearted so no one minded. This time I did go to the after party. It was at Manhattans and so a few of my school friends came. It was just like any other time clubbing except I forgot to pack flats to I spent the entire night in my wedges. My feet still havent forgiven me.

To this dance I borrowed another girls dress. This one was completely different. It was a grey navy with a low sweet heart type neckline. It went in at my waste, emphasising it (and making me feel super skinny which was nice). It was ever so slightly to big for me and not quite as comfortable as the previous one but I still enjoyed wearing it and I liked dabbling in the more daring make up and hair that went with it and of course I got to wear heels. I also enjoyed this dance and I found that noting the vast differences between the dances was entertaining and eye-opening.

Exam Review

Firstly I must apologise for my lack of posts lately. I have been writing exams and as much as I wish there was time for writing a blog post here or there, I didn’t have enough time to breathe so blogging wasn’t even an option however as of friday I am finished.

See in South Africa in your last year of school you finish off your high school career with Finals. A large, prolonged set of exams which decide the course of your future like an evil palm reader (I think a similar scenario happens in most countries) But the education system is not as cruel as I am making it out to be as they do realise that some days we have off days so we have portfolio made of tests and projects put together over the course of the year which make up some of out final mark and one of the requirements, something which is there to help prepare us for finals, is prelims. The preliminary examinations (everyone calls them prelims and im sure you can see why) are what we have just finished…

What did I think? Well I know I procrastinate so I decided that I would take every opportunity I could while I had the energy and determination to do so, so I spent the entire 4 week holiday we had prior to the exams stuck in my books. As you’ve read from my blog I did have some fun in between but I also studied and prepared more for these exams than I ever have before and honestly… I feel like I wasted my time.

Now this is me being slightly emotional as I received my marks back today and to be honest the studying probably will be helpful when it comes to finals but I also feel that some of our papers were unreasonable and so the hard studying didn’t help. I am aware that some teachers do make the papers harder to scare us into studying properly for the big ones but it doesn’t make logical sense that I would get lower marks than I have ever received before (in specific subjects) when I studied for far longer than simply the day before. I don’t see how this is a fair gage of my abilities.

Usually I can rely on my academics. I’m not good at sport, I can’t dance, I am not musically gifted but my academics… It’s my thing and yet today I didn’t feel like it was.

The mood of the matrics was a strange one. Everywhere I looked the grade 12 girls walked around with grins on their face and with a few pressing questions i discovered it wasn’t because they had received all the beautiful As that I hadn’t but like me their results had not been extraordinary but we had come to a stage where we couldn’t do anything about it and it was so bad you just couldn’t cry so the only thing to do was laugh. The best part was that we were all in it together. obviously there are always those annoyingly gifted children who don’t count because they never do wrong but the rest of us were in the same boat. There was no judgement. only the casual completion of who got the worst marks. Also it helps to have the moral support of everyone else doing badly to make one feel okay about ones own failures. I’d say the whole routine of getting prelims back was a good bonding moment for our grade as a whole.

Luckily for me I did have some good subjects. Areas like Maths or Art theory I know I can always rely on and they came through and I appreciated these and a few other surprises next to the really bad marks because it made me realise how precious they are. I was grateful and humbled by the As and the not quite As and the really horrific marks which we will never speak of again.

So to my parents: I am sorry that my report at the end of the week will not be the happy ending we were hoping for but rather an unfortunately misplaced set of marks that we can just hide among my past results and lets keep our fingers crossed that the next lot is a little better.