Shoe Love: Lotta From Stockholm...

Image from the Swedish Hasbeen's Inspiration page

I was drooling over some Swedish Hasbeen's the other week, the cult swedish shoe that every blogger in the land has been lusting after. There I was browsing through their website, as I had done many times before, getting stuck, as I had many times before, at the part about the price. They are about £150 which is a little north of pricey for me. 

Then, I'm not sure how exactly, I accidentally stumbled on another Swedish shoe company called Lotta From Stockholm. I clicked onto their website and-gasp- they had almost exactly same styles but at a third of the price- around £50. Before I got too excited however, I wanted to find out about their ethics, so I sent them an email*. I was a little surprised to receive an email back from Lotta herself explaining that they are a tiny husband and wife team (awww) working from Greater London . Their clogs are made by three other family businesses all based in the EU, the vast majority in Sweden itself, and all the clog materials are also sourced from within the EU from carefully managed sources*.  Brills.

We ended up having a lovely chat via email; about companies being tempted into cheap production and about my blog and that one day my husband and I would like to start a business together  etc etc. Anyway to cut a long story short, she ended up sending me a free pair of shoes to review for my blog. WHOA. This is the first time that anything like this has happened so I was pretty stoked. I thought long and hard then said if I liked them and they fit ok that I would blog about them. And, well,  I adore them. They have had two outings so far and have attracted compliments from strangers both times.  I love their 70's look and the colour of the leather. The heel height is perfect for me (I'm paranoid that I'm too tall to wear high heels, I know its ridiculous) and they are also super comfortable too. 

Anyway, enough waffle, here they are...

I painted my nails specially...

(Although don't look too closely, I'm crap at painting my nails.)

So, thank you Lotta From Stockholm. This was a true high point in a month which happens to be a completely skint ass poor one. Painting my toe nails was another high point in my skint ass poor month,  too. (Barry M in case you were wondering)

Lotta currently has an amazing sale in which some of their shoes, in lots of sizes, are going for around £30- wow. Lets fill the world with Swedish clog love.... 

*I like to be an 'active consumer' and I like to ask about things. Sometimes fearlessly. Occasionally stupidly. My friends and family laugh at me for this (!) but I think its important to be informed about what your buying. 

* Small family run businesses based in the EU, and materials sourced from managed sources in the EU are two big social and environmental ticks, although I'd be even happier if the leather was recycled. Compromise is however, part and parcel of ethical shopping and there is no such thing as a 100% ethical item of clothing. Anyway. I'll stop there.

Full Disclosure: Lotta sent me a pair of shoes as a one off with no strings attached. If I didn't like them I would have simply sent them back and not mentioned them on my blog. There are no ongoing deals or anything and I get nothing if you choose to click through to their site.  

A spoonful of music helps the medicine go down...

I've been sick and bored of the telly so have had a lot of time to listen to old and new music. I've mostly been listening online, finding old bands, clicking through to the 'recommended artists' or their friends. Listening. Staring into space. Clicking. Listening. Bliss. Anyway, here are some of the songs that I have floated through the last few days with...


I heard Tune Yards on 6Music and within 10 minutes had tickets booked to go to her June gig. Tune yards is Merell Garbus with her ukulele, whatever she has to hand and an amazingly powerful voice.  Her music is beat-y and hip hop-ie and uplifting. Its home-made and experimental and unusual.  She even yodels. I'm in love. 







And then theres Alexander. Recommended to me by a lovely friend, as soon as I heard his music I fell in love.  He fronts Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero's (another great band) and has now launched a solo album in which he wrote every song and played every instrument.  Its folky and beautiful with a shimmering 70's sound. 'Truth' is my favouite song. Its soulful and sexy and makes me shake my shoulders along with the beat. He also happens to be beautiful.  I'm in love with Alexander... (ahem- his music obvs- sorry hubs...).





Glasser is another recent discovery.  Blissed-out electronic melodies, with tribal textured sounds. At times hypnotic and peaceful but at other times shouty and stompy. I love the whole album. 







I heard Hannah Peel at the Papered Parlour event I went to at The Museum of Childhood. I love this song so much. It has an addictive 60's sound, and a brilliant plinky plonky bass-line, and its about Home which I love. Her voice is gentle and innocent and enchanting.







Sleigh Bells are the complete opposite of Hannah Peel but totally amazing if you're in the right mood. Thrash metal guitar with a classic electronica sound all combined with melodic vocals. Ace ace ace. 




So, this has been me for the last few days. I'm feeling much better now, thanks for all your well wishes.

x

Ordered food, swedish recipes

Gracious, I'm in heaven here. I stumbled across Forsman and Bodenfors’ Recipe Book for Ikea. Ordered Ingredients, Incredible food photography and gorgeous Swedish recipe's....

Bondkakor recipe ingredients

 Kolakakor recipe ingredients

Lingonpepparkaka recipe ingredients

And my favourite; Mandelmusslor recipe ingredients

Makes me feel better. 

Photography: Carl Kleiner / Agent Bauer. Agency: Forsman & Bodenfors. Via RachelIllustrates. 

Beetroot Cake for sick days.

I'm sick with Tonsilitus. It came on quite suddenly on Friday morning and by the time I got home on Friday night my glands felt like they were the size of domestic fridges and my head was throbbing rhythmically. Saturday and Sunday passed by in a headachie, sore throat-ie, exhasuted blur and now its Monday and I'm off work eating soft food in my pyjama's. Woe. Is. Me.  It meant I missed the March for the Alternative, which I was pretty bummed about.


I'm not a good patient. I don't like just laying down. My feet get sweaty. TV bores me. I don't have the mental clarity to read. One can only sleep so much.  So on Saturday I baked a cake... naturally.


I had been dreaming of Beetroot cake since I ate it last weekend at Petersham Nurseries cafe,  so I decided I wanted to bake one myself. Despite being sick. Well, I only got so far before I needed to retreat to the sofa and boss my mister around instead. 


We adapted the following recipe.

Beetroot Cake 

250g plain flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1 tbsp ground cinnamon
150ml vegetable oil (I used ground nut oil)
300g caster sugar. Or normal sugar if you don't have caster.
3 eggs, separated
A pinch of salt
300g raw beetroot.

For the icing:

• Icing sugar
• Butter
• Some beet mash (A good band name, don't your think?)

 Do this:

• Line a 20cm cake tin with parchment. Or just grease it if, like me, you cba*.
• Preheat oven to 180° C/GM 4.
• The original recipe called for the beetroot to be grated but I decided to juice it instead as I thought it would create a more purple cake. I don't know why, don't question me. Unfortunately our blender broke so I was forced to boil then mash the beetroot instead. Don't mash it too much though, a few little lumps are good. Mmm. Save a tablespoon of beet mash for the icing, mind.
• Mix the flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt; beat in oil and sugar.
• Beat in egg yolks and beetroot mash.
• Whisk egg whites until stiff, gently fold in using a metal spoon, keeping it as light as possible.
• Spoon into the prepared tin, bake for 1 hour until springy to the touch. Leave cake to cool in the tin for 10 minutes, then turn onto a cooling tray
• Once cool, make the icing. I don't have quantities but mix it until it is the consistency of porridge. 
• To create really neat icing, place the cake casing back around the cake and clip it closed. Drizzle on the icing liberally and allow it to set completely. When you remove the casing you will be left with a thick pink icing that sits neatly on top of the cake.  Like the head on a Guiness, I thought. 

I wanted to make this cake really really purple with bright purple icing. The mixture looked promising as it went into the oven...

But unfortunately it lost its colour as it baked. Darn. It did however have little juicy lumps of beetroot in the sponge which was pretty and incredibly tasty. And the icing was bright pink, which made me ridiculously happy. 





It was incredible. Similar to carrot cake, but prettier. It really was perfectly moist. And there is nothing quite like a bright pink cake to lift ones spirits either. 


*CBA means cant be arsed. I stole it from my younger sister. At first my mister and I mocked her and used at home in jest, in a 'we're hilarious and talking like the young uns' kind of way. But then it stuck. Like a bad face pulled in the wind. Whats worse, however, is that now we kind of love it... And we find ourselves using it in our normal everyday speech. And, whats even worse, is that 'cba'  has somehow morphed into 'ceebs'. Yeah. As in:


H: We should really clear up this mess.
D: Yeah.... but ceebs.
H Yeah, me too. Lets just sit here. 


Or 
H: Ah man. I should totally shower, but really, ceebs. 


Its onomatopoeic. And Lazy. And satisfying. Try it. 

And on the subject of dreamy career changes...

Kee Boutique by Michelle Urvall Nyren

I interviewed the owner of a vintage and handmade clothing boutique for Amelia's Magazine. This led to a rather long pre-amble about my secret career cravings (Pearly Queen anyone?)

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do with myself. You know, life stuff. I am incredibly grateful for my job, especially as I have friends in dire unemployment situations but it doesn’t stop me from dreaming about the ‘what if’s’ and ‘one day’s’. I don’t have a single dream job. I never have. I do however, in my slightly schizophrenic special way, harbour numerous secret career cravings...

...But most of all I hope that one day, once upon a time perhaps, I shall have the means and the balls to retreat from my office based 9-5 to own my own little handmade business. Something to do with sewing machines and being outside a lot and haberdasheries and old things and perhaps chickens and copper kettles and err, well I’m not sure what it is exactly yet or how on earth it would come together. But I always like meeting people who have taken the plunge to do something they love, so I can briefly live vicariously through them....

Click here to read the full article.

P.s Oo Err, nothing all week then two posts in quick succession. Busses, eh?

Office, sunshine, tantrum.

I

I found a patch of sunshine whilst waiting to cross the road on the way to work this morning. Desperate is not the word.

Office 1 Sunshine 0.

 I never wanted to have an office job. So sometimes I look around me and think how on earth did I end up spending every day in one? I'm actually fairly happy in my job most of the time,  but when the weather is as glorious as it has been this week, I confess to longing for some sort of outdoors-ie job or at least the ability to transplant my desk outside. Outside the sun shines against the gleaming blue sky, the breeze carries swirls of pink blossom petals, and the air is cool and crisp; quite possibly my favourite weather. Meanwhile I’m inside, in my office, developing RSI in my wrists, wading through 100+ page documents and looking longingly out of the window. Outwardly I am conducting my working life as normal, with my usual grace, style and poise (ahem). Inwardly I am thrashing around on the carpet in an irrational, blood curdling, screaming tantrum. Right over there next to the printer.

 Bah. I plan to console myself with a snog* in Soho on my way home.

 P.S I had lots to blog this week, and then suddenly it was Friday. Darn.



P.P.S My mister thanks you all for the Plane jumper love. I am planning his next modelling jaunt in said jumper. (See post below if you didnt catch it)

*Just in case you didn’t click the link I am not going to illegally solicit a snog from a stranger in Soho, as much as I would love to spawn blog land rumours about conspiracy and illegitimate encounters and other  gasp-worthy trickery. Nope. Snog is a frozen yogurt shop that I happened to be obsessed with.  O.B.S.E.S.S.E.D.

Happy Friday!

Train, Picnic, Greenhouse

Despite having spent the whole of Saturday day and evening outside, I woke up on Sunday to the sound of the birds chirping and an overwhelming desire to be outside again. In my family this is famously described as ‘Collie dog syndrome’.

The weather was hazy and slightly overcast, with bouts of sunshine through the day. We had lots of left over food from the previous days barbeque  so decided that a picnic was in order. A leftovers picnic also fitted well with this years ‘thrifty treats’ mantra, so off we went to the station, along with boxes of salads, a thermos of tea and a blanket stashed away in a rucksack.

We decided to go to Richmond Park, as we hadnt been in an unforgivably long time. One of London's four Royal parks, Richmond Park is the largest open space in the capital city, covering almost 1,000 hectares of natural habitats.It is home to a huge variety of wildlife including Deer, badgers, foxes and birds, as well as nearly 1000 ancient Oak tree’s.

It was vast. It was so good to be in a greenspace in London so big that you could feasibly get lost in it. We found a good picnic spot and settled down to a delicious, slightly chilly lunch, watched the planes, admired all the lovely dogs and did some good cloud watching too.  

Can we just take a moment for my misters amazing plane jumper?!

Afterwards we did some more walking then paid a visit to Petersham nurseries café, somewhere I’ve wanted to visit for a long time. I fell pretty hard for this place. There are about 8 black wooden greenhouses which house rows of wooden tables filled with pots of flowers and herbs. The greenhouses also house a restaurant, shop and tea room, which have been filled with ageing furniture, creeping greens and large old rugs. Its slightly shabby, in the best of ways, children and dogs are welcome, and the staff are friendly and polite.

I loved their logo

Rather than go for lunch, which was the original more expensive plan, we decided to share a pot of coffee and a slice of Beetroot cake instead (it was mouth-wateringly moist and delicious, and had me planning all sorts of sweet beetroot recipe’s.)

Gorgeous, yes?

After cake we wondered around the beautiful grounds snapping pictures before walking along the Thames to Richmond station. We then took a short, sleepy train back to Waterloo. Bliss.

It was such a perfect inexpensive day trip that we are already planning our return trip, but this time with friends and family in tow. It goes without saying really, but highly recommended!

P.S I know that I still haven’t loaded any information to my London tab at the top of the page. I am still planning on doing so but it’s a much bigger job than I had anticipated, so please bear with me!

Blue sky, bunting, birthday.

Saturday was glorious. The first true Spring day of the year demanded our attention. We had a barbeque in the garden, to celebrate a friends birthday, some good news and welcome a new season. And celebrate we did. Griddled courgette, green lentil and pistachio salad, roasted vegetable cous cous,  potato salad, home made coleslaw and Chorizo chickpea and feta salad. Home made burgers, haluomi skewers, and squeezing in sausages on the barbeque. We made Sunrise Margerita's, marvelled at them in fact, and I spent the day wondering how I have functioned thus far without them... My wedding bunting enjoyed the first outing of its 6th year in existence. A giddy puppy, home brewed beer, silly games, heart shaped quiches. 

The setting sun and the crisp chill in the air called for use of the lanterns, blankets and our beloved fire-in-a bin . We took turns to collect wood from the back of the garden, and also took turns to be bartender, our creative bartending options reducing as the liquor dwindled.  We dragged the benches around the fire and passed around tins of delicious home baked marshmallow cupcakes and macaroons. And the moon. The dazzlingly bright moon.

It went on late, much later than we intended, but it was good. Chilly, smokey, tear inducingly hilarious and truly, totally relaxing. Happy Birthday Ozone. Congratulations boys. And hello Spring.