Archive for September 2011

People often wonder what the heck is Eurotrash? Is it a person? A style? A bad thing? And although I don’t think it’s for the masses, it’s not for the rich and famous either. It’s for the kind of people who like veggies on everything – including their dresses and hot pants; occasionally dangling from their ears, too. It’s for me and you, and for Dolce and Gabbana, too. The prolific designer duo’s Primavera collection said this: we’re Italian, and we’re Eurotrash. With a pretty harvest of prints from eggplants, to tomatoes, to una cipolla… perusing the collection left me salivating. So what to do when fashion takes a turn for the epicure? Eurotrash gets her Parisian apron on. In the spirit of fashion, I’m sharing my recipe for Linguine with Porcini Mushrooms!

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Who knew Woodbridge had so much style? I mean there I was last night decked out in Herve Leger heels and Chanel under a huge tent set up in the Starbuck’s parking lot where I spent a good chunk of my university years – in sweatpants. I probably sat on every curb in that parking lot hacking butts, drinking lattes and gossiping. But last night, downtown girl Anita Clarke of I Want I Got blog fame and Magnet Creative invited a different side of me to join them in that familiar spot for the launch of GRAFIC boutique’s Women’s and Online stores (

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She’s the kind of girl you’d like to meet.

She’s the kind of girl I’d love to be. Class is not just some abstract cultural construct when you see her walking down the street. You can feel it. She’s better than you.

With that turquoise bag all flat, just for show. No baggage. No receipts. Just a stick of gum and her black card. Black lining around every curve, every hemline,

Every eyelash.

Cinched at the hip. That cool, cool silk brushes against  her skin like that nighttime sea breeze at the end of summer; like the steam off an ice cube. A banana popsicle out the freezer and into your mouth.

Pretty purple flowers, maybe, on a background colour that doesn’t have a name.

She doesn’t do pilates, or yoga, or even know what Starbucks is. Tall, Grande, Venti. Naturally godlike is what you’d call it – her figure. It’s the truth. No one could look as good as her.



A few words dedicated to this S/S2012 look by Emporio Armani. Not supposed to be like fuckyeahmenswear. Let me put it to you this way: I’m just paying homage to his prose.

Oh, so it’s Saturday. Supposed to be a party day, I think. Let’s celebrate pretty things, then, like the Van Cleef and Arpel Pont des Amoureux timepiece. This watch makes me want to laze around daydreaming of the perfect photograph or how ripped I could look if I just force myself to work out. You know, break a sweat in real life? Here are some perfect photographs, my body to follow…. never.

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Remember when Ebay and Paypal were scary words? My Dad still won’t key in his credit card number online paranoid that someone, somewhere out there in the abyss, will steal his identity over the new Harry Connick Jr. cd on Amazon. What can I say? Online shopping isn’t for everybody. But if it’s for you, yes, you there reading a Eurotrash girl’s blog, then it’s time I introduced you to UKAMAKU.COM

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Last night before I went to bed twitter was all about Troy Davis. This morning it’s all about Milan. Well, on Eurotrash it was always all about Gucci. After flipping through Frida’s 90th Anniversary collection I got the kind of satisfaction only Tom Ford could elicit. Really. Details like Python zebra stripes, eyelash fringe and gold, gold, gold gilded everything was enough glamour to sink the Titanic. Her jackets were cropped and collarless, just like the ones you’d find in your grandma’s closet (or at least the kind I find). Colours were decadent: emerald, gold, black and white with hints of rusty orange. Let me put it to you simply, if Joan Crawford kissed Technicolor the result would be Gucci’s Spring 2012 ready-to-wear.

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This is not a foodie blog. I am not a foodie. However, just like every girl on a post-fashion week diet (I’m getting a head start), eating something other than 3 packs of cigarettes and a Coke Zero is finally acceptable. Oh, and I’m not just poking fun here – I read in an interview once with Frida Giannini that the above pair are what she calls lunch. In fact, they bring it to her office on a gold Gucci tray. Regal anorexia.

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Today has been one of those days where hours go by like minutes and hunger is never really satiated. I could eat everything in my refrigerator right now and then I sit down in front of this screen, I place my fingers on these familiar keys and wait for my brain. My phone rings and it’s Lula – she claims I inspire her but today it’s quite the contrary: “Blog woes, eh. Why don’t you do a post about life through your new vintage glasses?”. And then my brain starts to work. And here I am pounding down on those familiar keys like a boss – (but probably more like a secretary, IRL).

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Lula is on the homepage and is actually her own side banner.

Dear avid readers,

Like I said last week after sharing the photos taken for NYLON magazine’s denim contest: “We got this one in the bag, right?”. Well, we did indeed. Last night an ecstatic Lula called me, the mania in her voice as though she just overdosed on a bag of only-red Skittles: “I’m on NYLON’s homepage”, was her message, although words such as star, fame, omg, who the fuck is Alice Tate, whatever – were also sung in the same breath.

Here’s the link, both LULA and I made their best dressed list:

So the mag credited some chick named Alice – big deal, we say. YOU all know who we are and that’s what counts! So, thanks to everyone who made our NYLON denim post a winner in their hearts and on their twitter feeds. Being almost famous is this cloudy Thursday morning’s pumpkin spice latte.


Eurotrash & Lula.