Ashley Williams Knows Hot Babes

More things we want, that you probably want as well, to make people want you.

A weekly roundup of anything fashion-related that's made us excited about having bodies that we can dress with clothes.


If there’s one thing I immediately judge people on (and there isn’t just one by the way, there are many, but if there were) it’s the state of their bedroom. Before you get huffy, I’m not about to criticise you on having a messy floor or never doing your laundry; tidiness is for people used to having manic episodes or nothing better to do. What I’m referring to is the old saying about your room being an extension of yourself, and while I don’t care if you come with a tonne of baggage, I really do care if your idea of self-expression is a fluffy rug and a couple of magazine pictures taped to your mirror.

Somebody whose room does make me want to be friends with them, bffs even, is interior designer Sera Hersham because of the book she just published which is called Seductive Interiors. Leafing through its pages kind of makes me equal measures happy and sad because I can't see my room resembling those she beautified and included in the book, any time soon.

When I say she is an interior designer, I don’t mean that she placed a couple of art books on top of an object which wasn’t intended to be a table (well fucking done, you tipped something on its side). No, this is like beautiful, dream-home escapism, interior design which makes me want to quit my job and spend all day walking around flea markets smelling antiques and feeling really, I don’t know, balanced. But I think I'll just keep browsing Sara Hersham's website obsessively, instead.


Since the Opening Ceremony store opened in Covent Garden I’ve only allowed myself to go in once. Not because I haven’t had the time or inclination, but more because I’m genuinely scared of what might happen if I start making a habit of it. I went for the first time a few weeks ago, trying to zoom around really quickly so that I could mind-map the store but not see anything I wanted, and have to take out an overdraft to pay my rent this month. So from those cherished stolen glances, I can tell you that there is an awful lot of stuff to covet in that store – shout out to Charles Anastase.

One thing I don’t need to be careful about is looking at pictures of stuff you can buy in OC, from the comfort of my desk at work. This is where the release of their Resort 2013 look book comes in handy. The collection is a masterful combination of awful Russian aerobics bully and totally current skirt suits, embroidered cropped trousers and sleek Barbie hair. Sort of like if ‘The Lizzies’ from Warriors bumped into a Bratz doll, beat the shit out of it and stole it’s clothes. I wanna beat up a Bratz dool, too.


If there's one thing about fashion week that I can legitimately see myself emulating, that's not (shocker!) the 'grab bag'; It's nail art. I just have never had a phone high-tech enough to zoom on models' nails and properly check them out at any fashion show I've been to, to properly copy them after. Which is why I'm so thankful to all-time favourite BFFs and ultimate nail gang WAH, who filmed the whole process of applying their fishnet applique and tattoo print N-A-S-I-R designs backstage at the Nasir Mazhar show.

Not that I'm going to be able to do them myself, but at least I can take a screengrab to the salon (WAH is officially back at Bleach on Kingsland Road, by the way) and get someone else to do it for me.


Well no, not quite, but almost. They may not really exist IRL, but artist Johnathan Paul has created a series of brand-printed, pill packet prints. Something tells me these are a comment on how easy it is to swallow marketing strategies from giant corporations acting under the guise of individual driven fashion houses, but then again I'm not sure. Anyway, who really gives a fuck about that?

High fashion could be a total pill, but I think there are numerous other things a socially and politically aware person with enough money to be tempted into buying Yves Saint Laurent, should be considering. Like the fact that a huge percentage of modern art will only come to be considered art after some schmuck buys it for millions of dollars, for example. There's only one thing about this guy's "art" that I like, and that's the fact that at some point in the near future a genius upstart drug-dealer is going to make these packets for real, and I'll start seeing empty blister packs of Chanel Adderall littering the streets of Haggerston (pills are v. fashionable there, I'll have you know). That's pretty much my Instagram dream (yeah, screw you too), and I can't fucking wait.


I'm sure you remember Ashley Williams' graduate show from earlier this year; The one where she sent her Alice Dellals and Pixie Geldofs down the runway carrying puppies looking like they'd just stepped out of some alternate universe fashion diner. She was picked up by PR company Ella Dror almost immediately, and has just realised her first look book showcasing pieces from the show.

Having graduated from Westminster alongside some other super exciting designer talent, including my personal fave Annie Phillips, her debut collection is a triumph of lusty dishevelled insanity topped off with a few big comfy knits. Plus there's an adorable puppy in the look book too, so it's imperative you have a look at it.

Catch up on last week's tidbits here.