Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Muodoslompolo Style File

The boarding passes are printed.

And I'm packed.


I thought my toughest decision would be the nailpolish, but there were other hurdles to overcome.

The worst was the shoes.  I really wanted to pack these:

After a rather heated argument with Monsieur, I relented and packed these:

That faux-fur lined Sweaty Betty slipper-socks could trump studded Valentino stilettos is, frankly, mind-blowing.  I feel as though the laws of nature have been tampered with and that the Earth is going to crash into the Sun.  But when Monsieur took the Valentinos out of my 'stuff I'm taking' pile and nearly chucked them out the window muttering something about princesses and regrets, I figured that I'd better practice the courage I'm going to need in Muodoslompolo and accepted my sorry sartorial fate like a (badly dressed) man.

So, instead of an assortment of La Perla and Chantal Thomas frillies, I rustled up a pile of mean looking (mostly Smartwool) underwear.

My long underwear looks particularly mean because, like most things I own, it's covered in the hairs of my mean-looking border terrier.  My border terrier doesn't actually look mean, but he's obviously got a mean streak because he's stuck his hairs everywhere.

As we all know it's the accessories that count.  So here's my selection for this trip:

Looking at the above photo from 9 o'clock clockwise we've got a chic little droopy cap in cashmere and metallic thread, a cashmere poncho from Crimson Cashmere, a faux-fur & fleece hat from that sports shop on the King's Road in London, a snood (how I've come to own a snood is anyone's guess), some very warm gloves and a glorious white fur shrug from a friend of mine in Hong Kong who's setting up a cool new clothing brand called de Colfer.  Oh, and on top of the snood is a baklava. Sorry. Balaklava. Not a dessert. Terrorist gear.  A gift from Monsieur.  I'm such a lucky lady.

Most of my selection of toiletries will mean nothing to you because I'm an obsessive decanter.  I love the concept of 'travel size' and Muji do a great line of empties to accommodate my Aveda shampoo, Barielle foot cream and so forth. Luckily, Aveda already does a pocket size version of Hand Relief.

The coolest thing in my toiletries kit is the travel size tube of Marvis toothpaste in Jasmin Mint flavour.  This is the most delicious, dare I say, seductive toothpaste on the market.  Not only does it clean your teeth but it leaves your breath darn near floral.  I'm sure the polar bears will appreciate it, as they will undoubtedly appreciate my well-tended brazilian.  (You're thinking TMI, but this trip threatens to involve naked plunges into ice holes, so I figure I'd better make like a Boy Scout and be prepared.)

Style File Followers Take Note:
1. For my holiday reading I've packed Jack London's Call of the Wild.
2. I decided to go with a Goyard shopper as a hangbag.
3. I really, really don't want to go anywhere near an ice hole.
4. Fuck.
5. If you don't hear from me in a week's time, send help.  And those Valentino shoes.

1 comment:

  1. Muji is great and so is Kiels ...
    I do the same too ... it's easier when it comes to travel ^_***