Inside Style – Halloween Costumes

Inside Style by Annmarie O'Connor - as featured in The Dubliner magazine - October 28th      

My mother emailed me a photo the other day. The attachment included a Polaroid taken at my kindergarten Halloween play. I was a cat – but no ordinary moggy I can assure you. The performance may have been called ‘The Little Red Hen’ but ‘Annmarie the Fashionable Feline’ should have lit those bright lights in my estimation.  After all, I was the real star. Let me explain.

As life decisions go my juvenile refusal to play the lead role on account of the naff chicken costume was a defining one.  Even at five years old, I could sense the looming sartorial smear that would beset me. These were no Margiela feathers but rather those of the Foghorn Leghorn variety.  I valued my playground status too much to be coerced into holding such a poisoned chalice.

Instead I chose style over fame and joined the kitty litter. It was my pal Patricia who gave me the inside scoop. Her mother was the wardrobe mistress and by all accounts the cat costumes were fierce. Not only did we get to wear toffee-coloured hot pants and knee socks but we had cute velvet ears and long tails to swing in our duet. 

It wasn’t all glamour however. Our parts involved a refusal to assist the plumed protagonist in planting the infamous grain of wheat. I personally think we were scapegoats. Those bitter pigs and cows didn’t even get a look in; never mind that shady duck. Then again, had they networked with the production crew, they too may have found themselves sporting a more flattering costume. But I digress.

Despite being singled out for a refusal to engage in manual labour, our characters held the fashionable upper hand. All eyes were on us; which may have accounted for our unfazed reaction at being refused the hen’s reward of bread.  Puh-leez. As if carbs would have cut it in those outfits! Some things don’t change.

As for the girl who usurped me as Little Red, her star may have shone brightly on stage but that papier-mâché headgear dims my estimation of her still. It’s bad enough, having to play a moralistic matriarch but making fashion out of poultry is a crime most fowl. And that pun my friends is the reason why I haven’t tread the boards since.

Image: Goodhousekeeping.com

Stitches | Fabric | and Soul

Dame Street isn't my favourite place to catch a bus. Frequently when waiting for the 19a, I get hit on, yelled at or crushed by a bottleneck of people trying to squeeze through the small thoroughfare. When a boy called Stephen Moloney stopped me yesterday to take my likeness for his street style blog, I was pleased, flattered and dare I say....relieved. I'd like to say a big thanks for his flattering words and encourage you to visit his blog Stitches | Fabric | and Soul.

Photo by Stephen Moloney

Photo by Stephen Moloney

Inside Style - Making a Statement

Inside Style by Annmarie O'Connor - as featured in The Dubliner magazine - October 21st

I was walking up Drury Street the other day when I heard my name being shouted. Approaching me on a push bike was an unidentifiable man clad in a reflective gilet. “Hello!” cried the stranger, waving furiously. Could it be? Oh, please God no.  The luminous yellow figure grinned from ear to ear clearly happy to see me; if only we shared the same sentiment.

“How are you?” he enquired earnestly while removing his helmet. I would have answered had I not been blinded by the Day-Glo trauma of it all. It was Mr. Blind Date: a 45-minute lunch in Cafe Bar Deli that resulted in two-months of stalking. I thought I had seen the back of him. How wrong I was. “Love the neon!” I blurted clumsily. “Wait ‘til you see the other side,” he enthused.  Facing me in hand-written marker were the words ‘STOP THE BANKS!’

And therein began the flashback.  ‘You know I’ve been saying this for years Annmarie...” After hearing about LETS, corporate theft and the minutiae of his divorce over a feta salad last year, I was now forced to endure another political soapbox marked ‘What’s Wrong with this Country: Part 2’.  Between talk of sustainability, aquaponics and refusal to pay his credit card, I regained consciousness long enough to recall him referring to his ‘statement’ jacket as ‘fashionable’.

Could it be? Was the vegetable growing political activist rocking an early adapter trend? Well, stranger things have happened (see: Jedwardian hair). I had to admit, as he waxed lyrical about fish poo, I realised he wasn’t quite as excremental as my original estimation. After all, where would fashion be without its rebel yell? Katharine Hamnett was the first to spearhead the slogan trend with her WHAM!-friendly ‘Choose Life’ tees. Let’s not forget Vivienne Westwood’s ‘I AM NOT A TERRORIST’ epithet or Henry Holland’s Cockney-rhyming couplets. Fair enough. ‘Do Me Daily Christopher Bailey’ won’t encite social activism; but it will most certainly get people excited.

Despite the eye-opener, I was keen to keep our sophomore encounter brief. This was the same guy; I had to remind myself, who took ‘thanks for lunch; goodbye,’ to mean ’she’s into me’. As he cycled off to Blazing Salads, I watched ‘Down with Banks!’ fade into the distance and thought ‘Danger: Approach with Caution!’ might be the stronger statement.

Joanne Hynes Winter 2010 Fashion Soiree

I love it when a plan comes together and as plans go the Joanne Hynes Winter 2010 preview was master-worthy. The looks were sharp, colourful and directional - perfect for the upcoming party season; or just about anything! A special thanks to everyone who came along on the night including our champagne friends Moet who supplied the bubbly. Have a goo at the social pics after the jump courtesy of Entertainment.ie and Wenn.com.

Model Yomiko

Actress and Author Amy Huberman

Model Aoife

Big Brother's Caoimhe Guilfoyle

Model Aoife

Xpose's Aisling O'Loughlin

Inside Style - Capes

Inside Style by Annmarie O'Connor - as featured in The Dubliner magazine - October 14th

Image courtesy of Starstore.com

Capes. Apparently, they’re the latest trend.  Formerly the provenance of Robin and Red Riding Hood, the pseudo-sleeved cloak has now claimed a fresh legion of fashion victims. I however remain (capeless) on the fence. In my humble opinion, any garment that requires a ‘how to’ guide is best left alone. We all know how harem pants worked out (see: Did we ever need another ‘Hammer Time’?).  Thus, I feel it incumbent to me to parlay some pearls of wisdom, lest Grafton Street fast resembles a convention of Cistercian monks. Allow me to proceed...

Let’s start with the sleeves or lack thereof. Admittedly, Sherlock Holmes cut quite the dash with a pipe-clad hand extending from a mantle of intrigue on Baker Street. Try hailing a cab on a windy day, opening an umbrella or simply greeting a friend without receiving a face full of tweed and I’ll buy you a pint. Rest assured it could double as a handy bib should there be any spillage.

Don’t think you’ll be luckier opting for those slashes that double as armholes. These are merely spite devices designed to shame said victim into looking like Bosco. Don’t believe me? Try paying for that newspaper in the corner shop without espousing a queue of giggles...or a ‘Thunderbirds Are Go’ refrain. 
As for bags, prepare to downsize. A nice lunch box will do.  Anything proportionally larger will make you look like Quasimodo. Remember – items bearing straps only work under a cape. (See: why functioning coats need sleeves).  Besides, Bosco arms can’t carry much more than that.

Still want one? Groan. Arguably, the tippet does have its strengths.  Smuggling drinks into the pub comes to mind. The hood also doubles as a clever disguise should you receive the CCTV treatment.  Or perhaps put the garb to good use and storm on Leinster House in an act of superhero-like defiance. What you decide to do when interrupting Brian Cowan at Leader’s Questions is your gig but I’m sure he’d welcome a caped crusader rather than a JCB. Perhaps make a grand political gesture with your sartorial prop; or simply dispense some well-needed style tips to the backbenchers. In fact, histrionic and fictional affectations seem to be all this season’s ‘must-have’ is any good for. After all, who’s going to take fashion advice from someone in a cape?

Joanne Hynes Fashion Soiree - Brown Thomas

Photography - Rishi Mullett-Sadones
www.planetmotion.com

Gentle readers,

You are cordially invited to Brown Thomas on Thursdaty, October 14th where designer Joanne Hynes and I will treat you to a preview of her winter 2010 collection.The signature Joanne Hynes party dress returns just in time for the festive season & events calendar.

Alongside the dress, expect to see select avant-garde pieces built into the winter 10 look,  pieces to introduce character and strength to your staple wardrobe for now and years to come. There is also a gift with purchase compliments of Joanne on the evening.

The event begins at 4pm followed by one at 5pm, 6pm & 7pm on Level 2 of the store.

Looking forward to meeting you and sharing some bubbles.

With anticipation,

Annmarie x

Inside Style - Manners

Inside Style by Annmarie O'Connor - as featured in The Dubliner magazine - October 7th

Manners.  Apart from teeth, there’s no set quite as stylish. In fact, we fashion folk place quite the premium on convention; which would explain our inexplicable affair with tweed. But I digress...

Despite celluloid stereotypes of devils wearing Prada and supermodels lobbing Blackberries at unwitting assistants, there’s a tacit code that underpins sound sartorial behaviour – especially at fashion shows. Sure, it won’t make headlines or break the box office but it will ensure one’s standing in the community longer than Gallic chic in a Texan mall. Newcomers – pay attention.

Let’s start with faking it. Never do it. Just don’t. In fact, quit while you’re ahead. If there’s someone or something you don’t know, pretending will only land you in the proverbial. Trust me. My scarred retina has witnessed episodes of front row fraud to shameless fame whoring; not to mention social climbing that would make Jane Austen blush. Let me explain.

If attending any of the Big Four fashion weeks, remember the pecking order: celebrities at the front, everyone else in the back. Unless your ticket happens to be of the golden variety, take your humble seat and have done with it. Perhaps the girl who snaffled a seat next to Jennifer Saunders at Betty Jackson’s show last month in London didn’t get the memo. She was rapidly served by an angry clipboard with the impeached Ab Fab cohort in tow. Cringe factor? High.

Purloining the paps should also be avoided. Avoid the temptation to tailgate a celebrity, however desperate your desire to make it to the pages of Hello! Shutterbugs will quickly deduce that Cat Deeley cling-on as a pointless presence; especially as the door of her awaiting car closes...on you.

More importantly, when queuing for shows always observe the tenets of small talk. As a famous chain-smoking binge-drinking anti-heroine once said ‘introduce people with thoughtful details’. This also applies to you. Resist the urge to divulge the minutiae of your career path to the nearest available ear (‘I just graduated from LCF and I’m working on a book now that my In Style internship has ended. But I keep getting these calls from Vogue...). No one cares; they just want to get inside.

Do I sound blunt? Forgive me.  I sometimes think I’m too old for this caper. What I wouldn’t do for an armchair and a cup of Horlicks. Now that’s something worth blagging!