Fashion illustration at the Design Museum

The Design Museum has a great exhibition on at the moment. In fact, it has two. I took our niece Izzie to see the fashion illustration exhibition on the first floor and managed to keep the husband entertained to boot as the upper floor has a product design of the year exhibition that had recently opened. 


The Drawing Fashion exhibition pays homage to some of the incredible draughtsmanship clothes designers and their illustrators. From Dior and Chanel right through to Alexander McQueen and Viktor & Rolf, the exhibition encompasses nearly a century of fashion drawing. 


Many of the illustrations went on to tell fashion stories in Vogue - even to cover illustration status - while all brought an extra dimension to the fashion house concerned. The vintage magazines on show, complete with their original cover designs, were a treat in themselves. 


What amazed me was the diversity of the drawings. Some of the illustrators showcased in Drawing Fashion were able to turn their hands to several radically different styles. Pop Art might look simple, but illustrating such directional lines almost certainly wasn't. Yet the illustrator Antonio was able to flit from 1930s style graphics such as the image above, to Pop Art via the quite dandyish, Lautrec-like drawing of the illustration below. 

By its nature, Drawing Fashion was primarily a static image show, but the pictures were interspersed with videos showing illustrators at work. The 12 separate processes used in the production of one of the designs in which block printing and overlaid inks were involved was an apposite demonstration. 


Drawing Fashion is on at the Design Museum, Shad Thames on London's south bank until 6 March 2011. Entrance to the Design Museum covers both Drawing Fashion and the Brit Insurance Design of the Year exhibitions. 

Vintage or next year's remaindered stock?

Visited Anita's Vintage Fashion Fair in Portobello Road this weekend. Having a fashion fan niece to stay, plus the excuse of the start of London Fashion Week is great. Bought the cosiest of cashmere jumpers and managed to pass on to Izzie some of the dresses I have hoarded for the last couple if years and realistically can't fit in. I am very sad to see them go, but to a good home.

Greenwich Cafe Society

Greenwich is a changeable place. The markets have been pared back and are now more focused on food than simply gazing at and occasionally purchasing hand-crafted or salvaged items. The queue for the goat stew was longer than I've ever seen it. Mark almost abandoned the wait, but after the most gruelling marathon training session to date, he needed some proper refuelling. 

Goat stew, rice and bean cakes tempting visitors to Greenwich Market

As well as the well-known covered market, where food stalls occupy roughly a third, there are more cafes and cake shops than at any time I can remember (and I've been a fairly frequent visitor for 20 years). Some of extremely bijou with just a couple of tables of lucky people tucking in to their delicious looking cupcakes and fancies. My timing will be right one of these days...

Paul Rhodes Bakery near the Old Naval College does great looking breads and pastries but was also rather packe and there was no room at the upstairs cafe in Waterstones bookshop. Costa Coffee in Waterstones and Starbucks across the road from it are still exceptions here in Greenwich. Away from the Crescent Arcade identikit shops are more interesting takes on a well-earned coffee break. 

Mark has a well-earned cuppa at Biscuit after a big marathon-training session

Biscuit on Nelson Road (biscuit-biscuit.com) is one of the larger enterprises that has sprung up of late. Its large clear windows frame plenty of well-spaced tables and seating - along with a large wall of pots. Inside, it's a hive of industry. At first we thought we'd intruded on a pottery lesson. It is a coffee/cake shop but the food isn't the main attraction. 

Biscuit entreats its customers to be creative rather than relaxing and breathing in some restorative calories and caffeine. 

Choose a pot and give it a paint job

Blank white unfired pots can be bought at the counter. Choose from a zany cow, robot, horse rearing up or a cute animal if you prefer, or select a larger, more practical item such as a platter or jug. Prices range from £12 up to £24 depending on the size and complexity of the pottery you wish to customise. Bags of finished artworks that have been duly fired and dried cover an entire wall, ready for collection. Perhaps the one drawback to this intriguing enterprise is that you need to allow a week between painting and being able to take home your completed project - not ideal for the Greenwich day-tripper. 

As the assembled clientele and thoughtful inclusion of a baby changing room indicate, Biscuit doesn't try to be too arty. It;'s about getting stuck in and having a go, whatever your age. Paints are soluble and you can easily rinse off any designs you decide not to keep or unintentional personal adornment. Large signs encourage painters to layer up and increase the impact of your unique artwork. 

On this occasion, we didn't actually indulge in any pot decoration on this visit, but we noted details of the pot parties that can be held at Biscuit and will certainly return with young relatives and friends soon. 

The Family Orbit

Devan and Dhilan meet the family

Heading home for Christmas is an annual ritual for many of us, but one that throws into sharp relief the shortcomings of the family imperfect. (Ok, so who can't identify with the imperfections of family? We'll discuss that another time.) 

This year's visit back to spend time with Mum and Dad involved the usual predictable grumble and groan, but we had more reason than usual to enjoy doing the Christmas rounds: my brother has just become a father to twin boys to the delight of everyone. We met them for the first time at Christmas.

At times, it's seemed as though I've been on a one-woman mission to knit, knit, knit in time for the happy arrival, but the excitement of the event has overtaken us all. Meeting up with my sister-in-law's sisters and brother a few days before the big day, we were all bubbling over with anticipation. Had they been habitual drinkers and superstitions not been so prevalent, I'd have proposed a toast there and then that the very next time we met, there'd be two more of us joining our families together.

When we met, on Boxing Day, it was the happiest of occasions. The little boys were two weeks old and doing well and presents for Christmas, births and birthdays were being opened and other family rituals were being observed. It turned out I wasn't the only knitter, at all. My mum has been making cardigans for when Devan and Dhilan are a few months old (and big enough for them) while the mother of proud Uncle Himi's girlfriend has made two beautiful cream jackets.

All, in time, will become pretty little heirlooms - for now, it's just wonderful to enjoy the safe arrival of two beautiful little boys and watch them grown into - and out of - many more cute little knits along the way.

The vintage vs virtue debate

We've been having a clear out. If you know how much I'm capable of hoarding, you'll understand why. We also acquired a statue and two boxes of heirlooms over the Xmas period and won't be able to pass them on for a while. And when we were at my Mum's over Xmas she insisted I sort through some cases of clothes I'm pretty sure I'd left with her precisely because the contents are out of season and she has far more storage space than me.

So, the clutter. Guiltily I threw out three perfectly good sets of bedding and several shirts. We also offed two other bags of old clothes and some random picture frames and bags. They were to be charity-shop bound but have sat around for months going nowhere. Instead, they've sat around looking messy and I've nowhere to hide them.

The trouble is, however tightly and neatly I pack away what I have, I don't have much room and I have too much old stuff. I'd throw out the old stuff but i'm conditioned not to. That jumper may be 16 years old but it was a good buy and there's nothing wrong with it. You see my problem?

As a would-be vintage fan I'd like to keep some of this stuff so have squirrelled away some favourite fabrics. I hope to surprise myself by reinventing some of these garments as handbags and other accessories - one more item on this year's 'will do' list.

But what of the rest? We often hear that clothes are made to be disposable these days, yet some of my 20-year-old tops and jumpers are still going strong. I'm currently wearing a top from the mid-80s I acquired from my Mum about a decade ago. Not everything stands the test of time as well, but many things come back into fashion eventually. Should there be a rule that anything above a certain age be thrown out and, if so, where on earth will the next generation of 'vintage' come from? 

All roads lead to Retro Row

Retro Row in Long Beach, south of LA, was not in the guide book. We found out about it thanks to a tip-off from the concierge at our hotel (Vanden's - a boutique hotel rightly recommended by TripAdvisor members). It's a collection of shops with a loose vintage vibe, an excellent coffee bar and neighbourhood hangout, Portfolio Coffee House and one of the most fearsome barber shop signs I've come across.


Just five or six blocks from downtown Long Beach, Retro Row has a totally different feel to the modern and sanitised centre and rather dull shopping mall. The first indication that you're about to encounter somewhere different is the splayed out front end of a 1950 Chevrolet marking the corner of a scruffy public park. It ought to look as though the car was abandone; instead it fittingly denotes your entry into a 1950s or earlier nostalgia trip.


Pass the laundromat, mechanics offering deals on smog checks and the clothes exchange and retirement apartments and you'll see a tiny cinema that's been kept neat with regular painting but hasn't been prettified to be filmset-ready. California has preserved many of its striking art deco cinemas - this one feels as though it is simply still in the Fifties. 


Our favourite shop was a kids' gift store with a goth twist - a skull cake had pride of place in the window while a CD of death metal lullabies caught our eye. We couldn't resist buying one as a gift for our friends Neil and Ruth's baby. 

The modest shop signage and a lack of chain stores add to the period appeal of Retro Row. Unfortunately, we were there earlier in the day than the leisurely 11am or noon opening times for some of the stores. This meant we didn't get to go in and nose around the skate shop, so I wasn't able to fulfill my rollerchick fantasy and pick up pink legwarmers, skates and a twirly skirt in which to glide langorously along Venice Beach. (I'll plan my next Retro Row visit accordingly; weekends are clearly the main trading days here.)


We did hang out at Portfolio Coffee House though - a large corner establishment towards the far end of the four-block strip where students, business-y types and casual visitors like ourselves congregated. Its vast windows make it ideal for people-watching and we soon found ourselves relaxing with its chilled-out vibe. 


And lest you forget that California is about more than bikers, rollerskating chicks, surfer dudes and conspicuous consumption, there are several stores devoted to hippie fashion. Entering these is like walking on to the set of Tales Of The City. In fact, Retro Row in general reminded me of San Francisco. In one vintage store, we were greeted by an impossibly handsome, beautifully tanned male shop assistant with a tight bum and wide flares. The fashion itself was more than thrift shop chic, too - apparently set dressers from Hollywood regularly make the 30 minute ride down the highway to source vintage clothes from here. It's certainly well worth the diversion. 

The best apps cop-out

I've just completed a marathon writing and editing job in the form of a feature on the best apps for smartphones, laptops, PCs and web. 

Whereas an app once might have been a sticky note in the form of a Post-It attached to your screen or a digital version of the same concept; these days that same idea will be finessed into a far more personal edition. It might record changes to your golfing average, a dynamically updated team calendar complete with pop-up meeting reminders; or a list of things that need doing shared out between you and your significant other. 

The concept of 'best' apps is tricky. You're only likely to recommend what's personally useful to you or where you can see a direct usefulness or benefit and a there are many thousands apps to choose from. But not everyone has a smartphone - and we certainly don't all have the same one, which makes for plenty of pub debate about which one is the best. I definitely noted at several points that the apps I was writing about said as much about me as anything. I wanted to include the KnitMinder app, for example. 

Many apps are ported across from success iterations on the web or from the original 'app' idea of add-ons for a largely complete computing setup. Others have come about because there's a new hardware platform to which a specific type of app lends itself - the iPad and tablet PCs and various smartphones. For example, a dictation app for a highly portable device such as an iPhone makes much more sense than a similar one for writing a report while sat in a busy shared office. 

In fact, my big conclusion was that the best person qualified to choose the best apps is none other than you. Which ones make your day?