Victoria Beckham’s Best Airport Catwalks

Victoria Beckham once Tweeted “The airport is my runway” and à mon avis, never has a truer word been virtually uttered. As promised, in the run-up to the designer’s 40th birthday, I am dedicating a series of posts to the darling doyenne of the fashion world and today’s blog is a look back at some of Victoria’s chicest airport outfits. From Inspector Gadget-type get-ups to full-on runway regalia, Victoria Beckham always looks immaculate as she is about to board a flight. Ever the canny marketer, Victoria knows that she is the best ambassador for her own label and never misses an opportunity to showcase her designs as she catwalks through LAX or Heathrow, dressed in in an eponymously-labelled creation, combined with towering heels, a steely pout and her trademark shades. What a woman.

Arriving at LAX for a London-bound flight, Victoria channelled Inspector Gadget. Perfectly, may I add!


Arriving in LA in 2007 to begin their new American life, Victoria starts as she means to go on, in figure-hugging Roland Mouret:


Victoria, roll up the Partition please! VB looks decidedly chauffeur-like at Heathrow, in her bold Balmain and in-your-face Birkin combo:


That time Victoria arrived at Heathrow as an Audrey Hepburn tribute act:


I am sorry, but how can you look like this in an airport? QUEEN!


That time she compromised and wore Lanvin flats to board a flight:


The one time Victoria got it wrong. Very, very wrong. At least she’s human:


She can do casual airport chic too, though:


But she’s at her best when she’s strutting through an airport with Harper:


Like, she really is:


I mean, come on!


But, yeah, keep walking towards greatness Victoria!


And when you find a piece that works, design it in multiple colours and show it off as you fly to Paris:


And why not wear it in a different colour as you arrive back in Heathrow from Paris Fashion Week?


Victoria saves the best for JFK, though:


Burberry beauty:


More the Big Orange, than the Big Apple! (Sorry)


Victoria mistaking Beijing Airport for a runway, but SLAYIN’:


Finally, fear not, because there was that one time in 2003, when Victoria’s ‘shits given’ level was in minus figures and this is what she wore to board a flight in Heathrow. (This was around the time VB was obsessed with making it as an edgy R ‘n’ B artist…)



Victoria Beckham’s Best Quotes


My adulation for Victoria Beckham is no secret and as the fashion designer turns 40 this week, I thought it appropriate to dedicate a series of blog posts to the lady herself. First up is a collection of some her best and most inspiring (?) quotes with the pop princess-turned-style maven offering pearls of wisdom on everything from child rearing to her husband’s famous package. Victoria may have left her days as a naughty Spice Girl behind her, but even as she approaches the big FOUR O, she proves that she is still the same cheeky Essex girl she always was, despite being clad head-to-toe in eponymous designer creations. 

Her expert knowledge of sport:

“I don’t know much about football, but I know what a goal is and surely that’s the main thing about football.”

Her teenage ambition:

“I want to be as famous as Persil Automatic.” ICONIC BEYOND WORDS.

On her infamous pout:

“I actually used to smile a lot in pictures. I think I only stopped smiling when I got into fashion. Fashion stole my smile.”

On Goldenballs’, erm, golden balls:

“He does have a huge one, though. He does. You can see it in the advert. It is all his. It is like a tractor exhaust pipe.” Jaysis, Victoria.

 That time she could have been mistaken for Socrates:

“Sometimes the easiest things are always the hardest.” P-R-O-F-O-U-N-D.

On self-representation:

“I don’t want to be seen smiling or eating, perish the thought!”

She isn’t afraid to poke fun at herself:

“They always say ‘David is so handsome and she’s so funny’, which basically means you’re a pig with a sense of humour.”

 She says things like this and I think she’s actually being serious:

“I can’t concentrate in flats.”

The notions on her when she brought Harper shopping when she was still a newborn baby:

“I brought Harper into Prada and she loved it. It was as if she was saying ‘Mummy, I’m home.’”

She actually does have a grip on reality, though:

“You have to remember that when you’re a performer you become a celebrity, but you are not saving lives. It’s not that important.”

Proving that she and David are the most perfect celebrity parents:

“My children bloody will work!” Same as myself, same as David. They’re not going to be kids who just hang about. I want them to be able to fulfil their passions, but I think it’s important that the children grow up and have respect for themselves.”

When she loves something:

“This is MAJOR!”

ANYTIME you ask her what her clothing line is about:

“It’s about empowering women.” EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

She now expresses the 90’s Girl Power zeitgeist of the Spice Girls with a more grown-up grasp on feminism:

“It is thought provoking how a man in charge can be described as commanding, but a woman in the same situation may be called bossy.”

The pros and cons of being a style icon:

“I love my heels, but I have to go to a sex shop to get this spray to polish them.”

She is kind to animals and paints her dog’s nails to make her feel glam:

“It is dog-friendly nail polish, before we even go there because I know that is an issue. She’s a bulldog and she needs all the help she can get. We try to feminize her a little bit and make her feel sexy.”

She has the same concerns as the rest of us:

“I’m getting really self-conscious that I’m starting to look like a miserable bitch.”

And finally, some solid life advice:

“If you haven’t got it, fake it!”

Never change, Victoria. EVER. Happy 40th Birthday, you perfect creature.


The Notions of Kim Kardashian


I am sitting in the college library with just over a month to go until exams and as I look out onto a sea of studious burgeoning academics, all I can think about is Kim Kardashian. I know, I KNOW! Fresh off the cover of American Vogue, there has never been a more fitting time to examine the disposition of the world’s most famous reality TV star, and if we are to believe Anna Wintour, one half of the ghastly-hashtagged #WorldsMostTalkedAboutCouple. You see, we Irish are fond of the word ‘notions’ and the concept behind it is a simple one – it is a jocular insult hurled at someone who has an idea above their station or is getting too big for their boots. And there are few people who have ideas above their stations bigger than Kim Kardashian. As a woman who started her career on her back, only to become a Vogue covergirl a decade later, Kim is a reminder that every dream is valid and achievable. In one sense, Kim’s ascension to the A-List (and she most definitely is, whether you care to admit it or not) is an inspirational tale of a girl who started from her the bottom and ‘worked’ her way up. She had an idea above her station and look where it got her! Let’s all celebrate the notions of Kim Kardashian. #Notions

She once thought she could sing and recorded the iconic single, Jam (Turn It Up):

If you ever needed a definition for #notions, here it is. I am not in the business of likening Kim Kardashian’s musical efforts to significant events in Irish history, but when W.B. Yeats wrote “A terrible beauty is born” in his poem, Easter 1916, it seems like a foreshadowing description of Kimberley’s pop foray. Deliciously monotone and repetitive, this really is a gift!

This is what she looked like when she dressed up as Diana Ross:



She stole Kourtney’s breaskmilk because it cured her psoriasis and then asked Kourtney to pump some more so she could feed her cat, Mercy.

I don’t actually know where to begin with this one, so I just won’t, because I just can’t.

She X-Rayed her ass:


Tired of reports that her infamous derriere was surgically enhanced, Kim knew the only way to prove that her rear was au naturel was by wasting a doctor’s valuable time and having her mahoooooosive behind X-Rayed to prove it was all real. Khloe then posted this picture on her blog of Kim looking decidedly smug and I think it’s beyond hilarious.

On her heritage:

“I am Armenian, so of course I am obsessed with laser hair removal.”

She kind of thinks she is Elizabeth Taylor:

“I buy myself a gift every year, so this year I bought everything I wanted.” (Also, Harper’s Bazaar bizarrely allowed Kim to interview Elizabeth Taylor and it is the last known interview with the iconic actress. Kim asked her the most vacuous questions, naturally, but read it here.)

She thinks she can forge a friendship with Beyoncé:


She is not subtle about her thirst for the D:


She hashtagged #Enlightenment to show that she is #Cultured


Kim is on holidays in Thailand with her family at the minute and in a series of Instagram pictures, Kim shows her millions of followers how she is either #blesssed, #enlightened or has #etiquette as she takes part in local traditions.

She tried to take a selfie with an elephant and this happened:


Let’s not forget that she named her child after a direction!

Before baby North, or Nori was born, there were plenty of rumours that Kim was going to call her unborn daughter after a compass direction, but with such ridiculous claims even refuted by Kim herself, nobody really believed she would do such a thing. So when Kim gave birth and actually did name her child North, the Internet was sent into a frenzied meltdown. She is the ultimate fairy, with heaps of #notions.

Even though she has notions above her station, she admits she is still a regular, flawed human!


On her support for Barack Obama’s politics:

“He just seemed very firm about the change, and that’s like, his motto.”

She died her hair blonde and thought it made her look like a different person:

“I dunno, they say I look like a different ethnicity. Nobody has been recognising me!”

That time she lost her $75,000 earring in the ocean but Kourtney was having none of Kim’s #notions

And finally, her most iconic #notion of all:



Fashion, Showbiz

10 Times Harper Beckham was Adorable in Yellow

Those of you who follow me on Twitter will know that I’m all about the strong female and the ostensible pop culture queen of female empowerment, Victoria Beckham is my guiding star. Girl power, etc. If you do follow me, then you will also be aware of my endless love and adulation for her adorable two-year-old daughter, Harper Seven, who I truly believe to be the cutest child in the history of existence. In and amongst my dedication to superlatives resides a little(?) obsession with the whole Beckham family and Harper is fast becoming my favourite female family member – Vicky, you’ve got some comp, bbz. So if you ever need a reminder that the world is a beautiful and enchanting place, here are 10 instances of Harper, looking impossibly-cute in a variety of yellow hues. Everyone smile and coo in equal measure.

1. Moody look into the distance with Daddy being v. tanned:


2. Well someone’s gotta smile in this family!


Source: 3/06/02/article-2334529-1A1A5832000005DC-168_634x895.jpg

3. That time when Harper was moody:

4. That time when Harper walked:

5. Becoming the diva I was born to be:

6. Not much, just loving my life!


6. Kisses for his princess: 

7. Harper not being able to cope with her life. Loves it, do you love it?

8. Yes, overlap with 7, but does that matter when you’re this cute?

9. Repeated image, but LOOK, she is walking!

10. Literally too glam to give a damn. Over and out. 


Re-Launch of Dublin’s Waldorf Barbershop


The Waldorf Babershop on Dublin’s Westmoreland Street, which is responsible for crafting some of the city’s slickest beards and quiffs, is re-launching what it has to offer its unassumingly cool clientele, as part of RTE’s The Takeover.

The barbershop, which has been in business in the heart of the city since 1929 is offering a new beard and hair menu that merges the classic with the contemporary and last night, the staff of the Waldorf invited some of the city’s top bloggers and style commentators to join them for a fashion show to showcase its updated and revamped menus.


Image Guests were treated to delicious whiskey cocktails and mingled amongst the chimes of old school Rockabilly tunes before some 1950’s dancers set the mood for the main event. Led by the brilliantly warm, funny and knowledgeable Catherine, models paraded down the barbershop, which served as a runway for the night, showing off a range of beards and hairstyles that played to the tastes of every type of guy. Old school Pompadour quiffs were juxtaposed amongst the more modern College Contour style, as models ranged from the mature gent to the, to quote Catherine, “baby faced” young guy. Something for everyone!



The words ‘cool and hip’ have perhaps lost their significance as they are bandied around all too freely these days, but the Waldorf is genuinely and authentically both of these things, without even trying. For the past 85 years, it has been responsible for some of the city’s slickest hairstyles and following last night’s re-launch, I can’t see why it won’t be around for another 85!

Follow Waldorf Barber on Twitter @WaldorfBarber and check them out on Facebook right here. 


Why did the media fail L’Wren Scott?

I like travelling on trains by myself because put quite simply, I like eavesdropping. You hear and see some great stuff when you can’t move for three or so hours. Granted, I could read or do some productive work, but I find the bustling activity on the carriage too distracting, and, if truth be told, entertaining. However, during this morning’s journey, I heard a young boy, who couldn’t have been any more than seven or eight, ask a woman, who I’m presuming to be his mother, if “you have to be a woman to be a feminist?” (Her answer was a wholehearted “NO!”, by the way) and while I don’t know what prompted the wonderful question, at the time I was reading this article from New York magazine on the sexist reporting of the designer and former model, L’Wren Scott’s death and both instances collided and struck a chord.

On Monday, 17 March, news broke of L’Wren Scott’s tragic death and within minutes of the announcement of her passing, various social media platforms exploded with outpourings of grief, sympathy and unfortunately, terribly-sexist reporting on the designer’s then-suspected suicide. “Mick Jagger’s girlfriend found dead” was the general headline du jour that was being peddled, with the majority of reports primarily referring to L’Wren as the girlfriend of Rolling Stones frontman, Mick Jagger. Few took into account Scott’s immensely successful career as a fashion designer and model and those that did, did so almost fleetingly in the shadows of branding her as being not much more than someone’s girlfriend. Of course, soon came touching and poignant tributes from magazine editors, colleagues and friends, but the initial news of L’Wren Scott’s death was abominably reported, largely ignorant of the fact that L’Wren was talented and accomplished above all else. 

The media’s failing of Scott is all the more tragic given that all she ever wanted was to be viewed on her own merits and achievements, rather than as a statuesque trophy girlfriend of a world-famous singer. Allison P Davis recalls a 2008 interview with New York magazine whereby L’Wren says, “I just want to be known for what I do, not who I know” and then references a 2013 interview with The London Times, in which the designer declared, “I’m a fashion designer. I don’t want to be known as someone’s girlfriend.” L’Wren rose to fame first as a model in Paris for the likes of Thierry Mugler and Chanel, then delving into work as a stylist, before finally finding her calling as a designer, dressing stars such as Nicole Kidman and Angelina Jolie for the most prestigious of red carpet events. The media coverage of her death couldn’t have been further from what Scott strove for and it begs the question, how, in the twenty-first century can there exist such nonchalant sexism and sheer ignorance? Did any editor even question the headlines that were being carelessly ushered out and more importantly, what kind of editor vetoed them? Do they need that seven or eight-year-old boy to lead them towards enlightenment? 

On Monday, I immediately picked up on the way this story was being broadcast and I Tweeted about my fury at the reckless reporting of one person’s life and death. The replies shocked me. “How is it sexist?” one user asked me. Others suggested that L’Wren wasn’t well known enough to be afforded a headline of her own. People were genuinely trying to explain to me, in the most rational of manners, that it makes sense to refer to Scott as “Mick Jagger’s girlfriend” because that is all that people know her as. Someone even suggested that it’s totally acceptable because (unlike me, presumably), not everyone has “a passion for fashion.” I had to stop replying because the idiocy was infuriating and people were losing sight of the bigger issue – a woman had taken her own life and died having so much more to give. Obviously, there is an important discussion to be had on mental health and I am aware that there are millions of people who tragically face Scott’s fate and only time and hope will tell if her death was in vain. I really hope it wasn’t.

I don’t want to dwell on the Twitter debate, but the worrying acceptance of the deplorable headlines really shocked me. This wasn’t even a question of feminism, or sexism, it was a question of basic humanity. Are people actually for real? Above all else, L’Wren was a human, who was both gifted and tortured and she deserved the respect of being called by her name and not degradingly termed as someone’s possession. Thankfully,  Forbes‘ Clare O’Connor quickly jumped into the Twitter debate to appropriately offer, “Her name was L’Wren Scott and she was accomplished”, in reply to apathetic and thoughtless news headlines.  Her suicide has, of course, left her loved ones reeling with grief and one can only offer immense sympathy to Jagger, who has lost his “lover and best friend.”

L’Wren is undoubtedly worthy of all the wonderful character descriptions now posthumously bestowed upon her by various tributes and she was indeed the girlfriend of Mick Jagger, but the latter never defined her. Her relationship was part of the sum of her being, never the whole. If mainstream media is so casually dismissive of such basic human respect, then I hope I’m not valuing my own voice too highly (and I really do not intend to) when I say that it needs to get a grip and cop on. For God’s sake, L’Wren Scott was more than someone’s girlfriend and I hope that now she is finally at peace. 


Amy Huberman: National Treasure

There is an old adage that says you should write about what you know and it is a saying to which I firmly ascribe. Sport – a topic that I cannot even begin to feign any knowledge of, is something I always steer away from. Amidst the innumerable and of course, much-deserved appraisals of Ireland’s national hero, Brian O’Driscoll, I feel it would be silly and unwise to wax lyrical about the indomitable B.O.D., especially when Barack Obama has pretty much already won in the adulatory dialogue stakes!

Nigella Lawson once refused to answer a question on health food, because the deliciously indulgent Lawson quipped that health food was most definitely not her “forte” and I’m feelin’ ya Nigella. As I can never claim to be terribly au fait with this whole sporting business, I have decided to write about something I do know (well, kind of … not really, but…) and turn my attentions towards Brian’s wife – the impossibly-bubbly-and-beautiful actress and author, Amy Huberman.

The U.K. has Cheryl Cole, the Bambi-eyed, dimpled pop princess whose tears tumble down her cheeks not as tears, but as dejected diamonds and we have Amy. A national treasure, through and through and dare I suggest that our Amy is more … ahem, vastly and multifariously skilled than the Geordie songstress, (Cheryl, you know I still love you deeply). Having first come to the nation’s attention over ten years’ ago as the loveable receptionist Daisy O’Callaghan in RTE’s The Clinic, Amy Huberman has steadily cemented herself as one of Ireland’s most talented actresses.

Despite only being a primary school ruffian at the time, I remember Amy starring in 2005’s Showbands (oh, how great that was!) alongside Kerry Katona, who, at the time, I thought was the epitome of wholesomeness following her jungle victory and Liam Cunningham. Having gone on to star in Comedy Central’s Threesome, Amy is currently gracing cinema screens as bride-to-be Ruth in Irish comedy, The Stag. Most recently, Amy played the part of the hilarious Miss Tivnan, in Chis O’Dowd’s Moone Boy where she took on the role of a wacky 80s art teacher who ends up copping off with the PE teacher, played by Bressie. Nice work if you can, eh?

Not to overburden anyone with threadbare aphorisms, but if anyone understands that we have all been gifted with ‘the same amount of hours in the day as Beyoncé’, it’s Amy. Not content with being the darling of Irish television, Amy added novelist to her bulging CV in 2009, with the release of her debut novel, Hello Heartbreak, which I immediately snapped up and gave to my mother, who has since passed its coffee-stained pages onto the girls. On the subject of ma mère, she is also a huge fan of Amy’s shoe collection for Bourbon and I can’t deny that this post was, in part, inspired upon seeing Hello Heartbreak wedged between a towering pile of my mother’s shoe boxes, a good five or six of them with Amy’s name emblazoned on top. Actress, novelist, shoe designer, oh and model – yes! I’d expect Amy would be too self-deprecating to accept the last term, but she can be seen looking impeccable and undeniably regal in ad campaigns for Newbridge Silverware. Heck, we may as well throw style icon into that list as well, as Amy’s fun and girly, yet sophisticated look has won her a plethora of admiration from the fashion press (remember that Louise Kennedy hot pink number she wore to 2011’s Royal Wedding?).


Granted, I’m prone to a superlative, or five, but let’s face it – Amy and Brian are Ireland’s royals and in 2013, they welcomed their little princess, Sadie into the world and the recent pictures of a proud and teary Amy clutching her victorious husband, following Ireland’s 6 Nations win, could warm the shackles of even the iciest of hearts. When Chris O’Dowd Tweeted the picture, Amy replied in her characteristic, innocuously-sardonic tone by saying that they were only crying because they were suffering from the dreaded Irish fear of having left the immersion on before leaving for Paris. Hilarious stuff, Amy! As if she couldn’t be any more impressive, Amy is probably the funniest Irish person on Twitter. Superlatives, Jamie, superlatives, I know – but you know it’s true! A blossoming career, a seemingly perfect family and a down-to-earth and top-notch sense of humour – oh, in Amy we trust!