Being photographed with a lack of purpose is funny, isn't it? How do I pose? Where shall I sit? Did I shave my legs? Did I wax my unibrow? TOO MANY QUESTIONS! In the following images you'll note four things; 1) I'm smiling 2) I'm perched on a windowsill 3) I had, in fact, shaved my legs and 4) Even if I had a unibrow, it'd be covered by the sunglasses - so now you'll never know. Dually note that having manipulated my limbs into a most disagreeable position, my being here to write you this blog post depended entirely on continued physical sustenance from every bone in shoulders right down to my distal phalanges (look it up.)

Most importantly, you'll note that the collective bones of my being have been adorned with two of my favourite pieces from this season's Marni x H&M collaboration. Admittedly, my original hit list read more like a head chefs ingredients than an infant's first words (confused there? I'm not sure that I even I know what I'm getting at) but when all is said and done and one has the patience of a ravenous piranha, the choice reflects the late arrival to a till point passed by thousands before me. (They say the British are fond of queueing - presumably a contributing factor to reasons given for my passport remaining a passaporto of the pasta eating, O Sole Mio singing kind - non-reflective of my having been born and raised a chip-loving, Beatles singing kind.)

See? The paramountcy of dependable distal phalanges when posing on the windowsill of the second floor of a house of considerable height must never be miscalculated. Foolishly, I did lean back far enough to give my friend and photographer, Ben, cause for concern - all in jest, of course. (Not to mention the look of horrified apprehension so glaringly etched across the  faces of the Domino-eating girls in the house opposite. Oh, the things we do for a photo.) And yet, here I am to tell you that I am wearing a brocade top and matching brocade skirt from the Marni x H&M collection. The sunglasses are Prada's swirl sensations from spring/summer 2011 and the shoes are...

... Jimmy Choo! The most recent addition to the ARV footwear fetish collection, my Jimmy Choos and I are currently experiencing an extended honeymoon period. As is characteristic of many difficult decisions in life, my darling Choos faced stiff competition from a striking pair from the house of Alaia. Frantically, I switched from one safari window to the next, torn by the prospect of abandonment. But as fate would dictate, it would be these scallop-edged, leather-ribbon candidates that put forth the most compelling of arguments relating to years of joint future merriment. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Photos by Benjamin Thomas Wheeler.

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