When I received the invite for the launch of a new Male Muse and range for Augustine (ANDREW MONS for AUGUSTINE – [Save the Date]), I took it seriously. Very very fucking seriously.
I remember when it was my dear friend Jerome (Homme Jerome for Augustine), I was as proud as a Doberman mom hearing her puppy growl for the first time! Like ” Wow, look at you 🙂 “. It was a party well hosted, with mostly well-dressed and well-mannered entertaining individuals. So this time, I freaked out completely (the excited,ecstatic kind), planning my outfit, scanning Style.com for tiny little white dresses, in fact I was sure as hell that I’d rock up in a little white dress and pastel accessories until the dress I made was too short and became a top instead. After a whole month, yes MONTH, of planning , ‘saving the date’ as if it were a birth control appointment, playing dress up the night before, laying items on the bed during my pregame with my boyfriend (the one person who knows that if I’m planning an outfit a month before an event, it’s something we’re definitely going to), the day had finally come! I settled on an outfit that had nothing to do white and went all Isabel Marant (brown suede shorts) meets Balmain (some type of embroided sheer navy blue waistcoat and a black cropped blazer with gold buttons). One thing you MUST know is that this outfit probably wouldn’t hang anywhere else,with envious eyes of bitches who don’t give a shit to work out but give a shit to comment on someone that does and shows off her hard work, this was another kind of crowd. Appreciative,I guess and I was proud of myself when the comments were along the lines of “I love your top, it’s so risqué”, which was exactly what I was going for.
Now for the muse and the range! Oh wait, did I mention the drinks buffet? Snob’s favourite, I don’t know if there was any other buffet but it wouldn’t have interested me or anyone else,pfft.
pastels and prints= win!
If you missed the patterned belt loops you probably weren’t invited.
Love the trimming on those shorts and the fabric of the shirt was very un-golf-shirty which is great.
Hiding the tattoos under a shirt that night, I see.
Should I continue saying anything? I will, obviously. We met Andrew pretty late in the night but the few hours spent talking to this colourful individual were definitely notable. He had a more serious toned conversation with my boyfriend than with me and the crowd – being able to make that switch between bitchy, funny, intelligent and laid back to level-headed business creative is a freaking desirable social skill. We did however have a conversation about the stresses of blogging, shit isn’t easy (I’ve been writing for 4+hours). By the way, those dungarees- I know it’s a menswear range but I could really see myself wearing them with my heeled oxfords, a sheer blouse and a bib necklace!
Okay, honestly I know the photos I took aren’t of the best quality. I had to choose between my handbag and my Nikon DSLR which are the SAME SIZE, that and trying to hold a drink and a cigarette and trying to take a photo with that beast, so naturally I chose my handbag and cigarette (and unfortunately not-so-great photos). Anyway, I have photos of the lovely snobs I met :), you know that if I remember your name after a half day hangover which I slept off and had iced-teas for the rest of the day, then you’re really mighty cool. So big shout outs to my fellow snobs: Leeroy Duke-dressed in Andrew Mons, Lisa- girl is beyond crazy, Gareth- I still remember your hair, Justine- owner of the shop and I realised she changed her hair colour and she has such a lovely speaking voice, Justin-the blondie who had Jerome’s lighter (gotcha), Jason and Shelly-cute cute cute cute cute! And of course Andrew Mons.
Jerome and Justine looking dashing at the Homme Jerome launch.
Jerome and I.
I’ve given up on my captions for now because my laptop is acting ghetto, but our little party got swarmed for a while, and somewhere in those photos are the betchiest, most fabulous people I met and my lovely fiance. Also, I apologise for anyone in these photos who does not look gorgeous, because you obviously are (if your name is listed). I can’t leave you with that, can I? No fucking way, here’s my favourite campaign picture . . .
And a video. Your Personal Style Bitches!