Do you Coco?

Madonna does, and that’s good enough for me.

Vita Coco, launched in 2004, is a 100% pure coconut water, super-glam equivalent to isotonic sports drinks. It contains 700mg of potassium per serving, the equivalent of 2 bananas and 15 times more than an average sports drink such as Lucozade. Naturally sourced, it is also free from the sugar and chemicals plied into leading brands and is competitively priced at around £1.69 a carton (available from Holland and Barrett).

Ok, so, it may be good for you, we all love a celebrity-endorsed health fad and admittedly this one is REALLY yummy with no discernable downfalls…

But is it really worth a blog post?

I’ll keep it brief, ladies…this is why its hot.

1. It is a proven metabolism booster…so HELLO, weightloss.

2. It detoxes the body, hydrates, replenishes after physical activity and boosts poor circulation.

3. It makes skin smoother and clearer by smoothing out the functioning of your intestines, apparently.

4. Gym-going celebrity followers include Halle Berry and Kristin Cavallari. Madonna and Demi Moore were so taken with the product that they invested in the business, so you really are getting Moore for your money…

A slimmer waist, less sugar, better skin and the kudos of carrying the coolest drink since Kate Moss stepped out with Skinny Water? I predict this summer will be coconut crazy, so stock up whilst you can…and pretend you’ve been drinking it for YEARS.

Juliette has a Gun

It is quite rare, but very possible, that a perfume bottle can make you squeal with delight and make you adamant that you want it, having never actually smelt the fragrance. Juicy Couture ‘Couture’, below, and Vivienne Westwood’s ‘Boudoir’ top the list for me, and no doubt you have your own coveted selection.

Added to the visual appeal of an eye-catching design, the allure of a deliciously decadent name can make a perfume an absolute essential regardless of whether or not the fragrance is one which appeals or would suit you. It is in this vein that I have been raving for days about the new range of Juliette has a Gun fragrances, all created by Romano Ricci (great grandson to Nina Ricci) and none of which I have actually ever sampled. Shakespeare had clearly never beheld a Romano Ricci creation when he wrote -

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

- but then, he was also not an impressionable Fashionista with a magpie-mentality, like the rest of us, so can be excused on this occasion.

The exquisitely eye-catching range consists of three fragrances each with rose as a keynote: Miss Charming (labeled ‘the perfume of a virgin witch’ - hopefully just a dubious French translation) the more mature and elegant ‘Lady Vengeance’ and the classic, cologne inspired ‘Citizen Queen.’ In essence this is the perfume equivalent of Baz Lurhmann’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’, transporting the glamour and sensuality of Shakespeare’s heroine into the 21^st century with a dose of kick-ass girlpower and sex appeal rivalling Brangelina in Mr and Mrs Smith.

French Vogue, effortlessly more chic than its British equivalent, has already touted Ricci as a ‘perfume star’ and the brand will no doubt enjoy similar success here in due course. Its edgy, monochrome and fuchsia splattered packaging is rivaled in similarity only (and only slightly) by Jean-Paul Gaultier’s ‘Madame.’ There is certainly a gap in the contemporary fragrance market for innovative designs and quirky conceptual marketing, amidst our beloved, tried and tested ‘Chanel No. 5’ and ‘Anais Anais’.

So here's the rub.

The mood of the three Juliette has a Gun fragrances combines the classic vulnerability of Shakespeare’s heroine (encapsulated in vanilla basenotes and soft florals) with an edgy, daredevil streak of Moroccan rose and wild fruits. Tempted? Me too – Ricci makes a convincing Romeo, and the bottles really are to die for. As yet, the fragrances are not available to buy in the UK, but have sold so well in France that the range has already extended to Belgium, Germany and Italy. Hold tight, Star-cross’d lovers, because secrets like these don’t stay secret for long, especially when they have been created by the self-confessed (or self-proclaimed...?) “offbeat dandy of the perfume world.”

Visit www.juliettehasagun.com for more information (and to drool over the delicious designs).

Clogs: A Critical Appraisal.

Daisy print clogs, £310, Miu Miu (Spring 10)

Unless you are blessed with a very selective fashion eye, you will probably have clocked the clog commotion a good few months ago. Horrified as I saw the trend rear its ugly, clumpy head, I refused to acknowledge it, hoping instead that if I kept my eyes closed and avoided all media coverage of Alexa Chung and the Olsen twins, it would disappear promptly, quietly and without any fuss. Disappointingly, it seems there is a stubborn clout associated with the clog, and so they remain, persistently clinging their way inappropriately into our summer ensembles whether we like it or not.

Clogs are one of those offensive anti-fashion items, loved by no-one and condemned to a life of fleetingly brief, hopeful cameos until someone in the know comes to their senses and concludes:

no - theyre actually still not cool - back in the closet.

They were last seen proudly paraded by the youth of the 90s, paired with flared denim and cropped gypsy tops. At the age of about 13 I was the proud owner of this very ensemble. It was sourced entirely from Tammy Girl and the clogs were particularly special, featuring faded denim toe caps studded onto a chunky heel resembling a block of MDF, complete with diamante detail. I distinctly remember feeling apprehensive, even at the age of 13, that my choice of footwear was perhaps not the most sensible – they were almost impossible to keep on your feet without scrunching your toes into the ends and made your legs look like ‘loaf-feet’, a term coined by my best friend’s dad as he observed our new shoes with manly horror and bewilderment. My concern was, sadly, momentary as I remembered that Geri Halliwell and Emma Bunton wore clogs all the time, so it was clearly a necessary sacrifice in the universal plight of Spice Girl emulation.

I admit, I have just painted a cringeworthy and unflattering picture of the clog, worn offensively by girls who didn’t know any better (in this bracket I also include the Spice girls, out of fairness). Today’s clogs have, apparently evolved from high-street misdemeanors to high-fashion Miu Miu masterpieces, but my problem remains the same. I have never seen an attractive or desirable pair of clogs, and have concluded it is probably an impossible task to create any, on the basis that I know for a fact that it is absolutely impossible to even describe a pair of clogs in a way that sounds even remotely appealing. If you don’t believe me, try it yourself. And if you want more proof, the Dutch term for clogs is 'Klompen.'

Shame on you, Chanel, for bringing the trend into the 2010 limelight, and making us momentarily lose our fashion frugality. Admittedly, the collection was adorably cutesy in a gingham, straw-covered way. Doll-like models with buttermilk plaits and airbrushed pins pulled off the neutral-toned clogs with admirably characterful aplomb. Characterful aplomb which, sadly, is more than lacking on the streets of 2010 London. Mind the gap, clog-clad Fashionista’s, unless you fancy being rendered clog-less by the Underground. And don’t even consider running for that bus…

Chanel Embellished Clogs (Spring/Summer 10)

If my existence consisted entirely of dangling my legs off haybales, barn-dancing or modelling Chanel collections, I may be tempted to slip quite acquiescingly into a pair of clogs. As well as reminding me of Russian dolls (curiously, since Russian dolls don’t have feet, let alone clogs) they are historically renowned for being comfortable for outdoor work, said to be one of the healthiest footwear types, and even I must admit, they look pretty cute on Rachel Bilson.

But as for summer 2010 wearability? You can clog off...

Betty Suarez Land

With the end of Ugly Betty looming after just three more episodes, it is time to mourn the loss off the most unlikely ‘I actually want to be her’ role model and contemplate the show’s heartwarming, universally appealing moralistic qualities. Admittedly, I am a hopeless romantic with a tendency to get teary-eyed and over-emotional whilst watching American TV shows deemed trashy and mildly ridiculous by most of my friends (Dirty Sexy Money, The Pussycat Dolls Present: Girlicious, Californication etc etc) But Ugly Betty has an edge. A loveabley goofy REAL edge; a fairytale without the sugary duckling-to-swan transformation or the overindulgent happily-ever-after.

Launched in 2006, the fashion focused comedy follows Betty, an ordinary girl from Queens who becomes the unlikely editor-in-chief to fashion playboy Daniel Meade. In the mercilessly cruel eyes of the fashion world, shoved between beauties and bitches, the new plain-Jane from Queens is not ‘plain’ but ‘ugly’, such are the meticulous standards held by the fashion elite.

Wilhelmina: “If you’re hungry, call down for some ice chips”

Greeted on her arrival with “Are you the before?” Betty’s ‘Ugly’ label sticks. A certain amount of dramatic license is required if we are to truly suspend the disbelief of actress America Ferrera actually appearing conceivably ugly, though the braces, frizz-ease deprived wig and wardrobe of rainbow coloured faux-pas certainly helps. America is even said to have coined the phrase ‘Bettification’ to describe the transformation efforts she endures. Yet the result, I think, is less ugly than alternative, and it is often possible to extract at least two pieces from whatever ensemble Betty is wearing which would probably be celebrated as “cutting edge” or “haphazard chic” in the British fashion world. Nevertheless, within the minimalistic glamour dome of Meade Publications, Betty’s quirks could never – and will never - qualify as beautiful.

The Meade office and the Suarez family home form the Montague and Capulet tag teams of the show, with the positives and negatives of each exposed in equal measure. Wilhelmina’s cutting one-liners and ice queen presence are balanced by snippets of warmth and genuine friendship between Daniel and Betty, Mark and Amanda, whilst in the Suarez home hub the cosy family feasts and words of wisdom are tainted slightly with the stifling reality of Hilda’s single-parent struggle. Betty becomes the Juliet figure, seduced by the buzz of the city but unable to embrace the lonely existence of those in the fashion world. Her struggle to shift her allegiance convincingly between the two worlds in pursuit of happiness ends up uniting them and binding them together with the moral that family comes first, no matter what.

Looking at the show from a moralistic point of view was perhaps not the primary intention of its directors, but it is, for me, like comfort food: fulfilling and enriching, despite its excruciatingly damning celeb digs...

Marc: “Its going to be Britney shaving her head all over again!”

Amanda: Oh that was fun! But then it got sad…”

Marc: No! But then it got fun again!”

However ludicrously shallow the fashion world is portrayed as, the show can never truly alienate or threaten its audiences because at its heart are the two themes we can all identify with: family and acceptance.

Watching Ugly Betty alongside the final semesters of a fashion degree which will launch a somewhat naive and nervy career seems a perfect match (at least I know what NOT to wear…) but in truth the show could be renamed “Lessons in Life as I’m Learning it” and is my recommended therapeutic viewing for anyone following their dream, or at least dreaming of doing so. To quote Marc, the ‘Nicole Bitchie’s’and ‘Wilhel-meistro’s’ of life will always be a nasty threat, the fashion world will always seem partly impenetrable and wholly shallow -

Amanda: “she’s a model…shiny things confuse her.”

- and your fashion choices may sometimes be scoffed at by those in the know, but I would rather be Betty than Wilhelmina any day.

Stick in your own Betty Suarez land ladies, because nice girls have a habit of finishing first.