My Marie Claire Shoot

Disclaimer: I pretty much never look like this.

There are things in life that are scarier than others, but when the opportunity arises, you have no choice but to leap at the chance. Such things include going up to your favourite celebrity when you see them on the street (although I'm not sure I'd have the guts to talk to Jared), giving that scary work presentation in front of absolutely everyone or, in my case, have your picture taken for your favourite magazine.

When winning the chance to be mentored in the Marie Claire Inspire & Mentor Scheme, one of my prizes was the chance to appear in the magazine talking about my project, Vilda. There was always talk of a photo shoot, which sounded quite scary, but I pushed it to the back of my mind, thinking that I'd deal with it "when the moment comes".

And yesterday the moment came.


What happens when a tornado meets a volcano

Today I'm going to talk about fighting with your boyfriend. Or girlfriend, husband, wife, other half, whatever (I'm sorry, I just don't like the word "partner", unless we're talking about someone you've done business with).  I know it's not a very Sunday subject and I know not many bloggers talk about this - that's one of the reasons I'd like to address it. Every time I see a photo of a loved-up blogger hugging it out with her picture-perfect other half, I'm always like, okay, but you did have a good ol' scream at each other a couple of hours before snapping that photo (and admitting it doesn't make you any less in love!).

You know these couples that seem mind-blowingly happy exactly all the time? The ones that hold hands, kiss and always laugh uncontrollably together? I'm in a couple like that. We're perpetually smiling, never let go of each other, have a million inside jokes and constantly find ways to cuddle - yes, even in public. And yes, after six and a half years together. Most of our friends' reaction to us is either "aaawww" or "stop being so in love". We're diabetes-inducing and we know it. But there's more than meets the eye.


Coffee and Heels goes to London Fashion Week

Yifang Wan at Fashionscout

So this weekend was my first London Fashion Week!

After several seasons of attending the Milan shows, I was pretty curious about what London had to offer - and after several seasons of checking out the FROWs on style.com with badly concealed envy, I finally managed the impossible: to get myself invited to a few shows.

How did I do it? Simple: I emailed the PRs of every - literally every - show I wanted to go to (not the impossible ones, I didn't even try Burberry or Tom Ford) during the weekend, told them about Vilda and asked for tickets. Of the "official" LFW shows (the ones that go on Style.com) only one actually sent me an invitation, but it was the best one - Topshop Unique. Aside from that one golden ticket - standing, obviously, but it IS my first time at LFW - my tip for everyone wanting to get into LFW is: go for the Fashionscout shows. This piece of advice was given to me by Poppy, my Marie Claire mentor, and I'm so glad I followed it. Not only was it easy-peasy to get tickets, but Fashionscout is truly an amazing platform for creativity and innovation in fashion. I had an incredible time there. I don't know if I should advise even more people for next season, as it was super-crowded already, but if you want to go to Fashion Week, the Scout shows are an amazing place to be.


In Defence of Valentine's Day

Photo taken forever ago (when I found Desigual dresses sooo cool) at Model House Sweden

Quite frankly, I'm getting a bit sick and tired of all the V-Day haters out there. I mean, there's war, cruelty, famine, violence and fox fur collars with actual fox heads on them out there - and what do you choose to get mad about? A romantic holiday, that's what. I just don't get all the cynicism surrounding 14 February: if you're single, you don't really have to do anything (rather uncomplicated) and if you're part of a couple, it's a reason to go for a nice dinner, have a glass (or bottle) of wine and a chat. Really, it's not the devil. Here are a few popular V-Day complaints and what I think of them:


My letter to Copenhagen Zoo re: Marius

I'm sure you've all heard about the vile act of cruelty committed by the Copenhagen Zoo: despite protests and petitions, they mercilessly killed young giraffe Marius to feed him to lions - the feeding part occurred in front of people. Including children.

Appalled by this act of barbarity, I decided to write the lovely peeps at Copenhagen Zoo a little email. Obviously, I knew they'd never open it if I wrote BASTARD MURDERERS ROT IN HELL in the subject line, so I disguised my outrage with "opening hours" as a subject (I know, I'm smart like that).

Here's a copy of the email I wrote:


Popular Myths about Vegan Fashion

Since starting my vegan fashion magazine Vilda, I've gotten a few quite curious reactions. "What do you mean, vegan fashion? Aren't all shoes leather? Oh, right, flip-flops aren't" and "but there isn't any meat in clothes" are only a few of the more bizarre ones. As I've gone about planning articles, interviewing people and investigating brands, I've come to a conclusion: people have quite a few misconceptions about vegan style. In this post, I'll try my best to clear some of them up.


Something More

This Sunday was a beautiful day. The sun was shining over London and I had gotten paid the week before. So what did I do with my glorious Sunday? I wasted it away on a violent, painful and inevitable spell of depression. Think yoga pants without the energy to actually do yoga, endless cups of tea and puffy eyes. I did venture outside - I think the Tesco cashier was a bit frightened when I took my sunglasses off (I was debating with myself whether taking them off was a good idea, finally arriving at the conclusion that keeping them on indoors would make me look like someone who wanted to look famous but wasn't. As if a famous person would ever be in Tesco anyway).

My outspokenness about my depression is one of my most defining traits - most people know when I feel down (excluding work colleagues) and my blog, my outlet, isn't any different. I understand bloggers that don't feel like showing off "other" sides of their lives, the places where darkness lurks (as it does for absolutely everyone), the moments that aren't about new shoes, yummy dinners or "I am so blessed". But myself? Brutal honesty is my therapy. So here goes.


A pleasant delivery: Beanies Flavoured Coffee

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A lovely part of having a blog like this is that sometimes I get sent coffee. This is something I'm particularly fond of, as one of my more particular desires is to, one day in the distant future, become a coffee expert - something like a coffee sommelier. The thought of sampling different coffees, saying things like "hmm, this blend has a rich, fruity taste with a slight hint of cardamon." Isn't that the dream? So thank you, everyone who sends me coffee - not only are you making my mornings much more bearable, but you're also enriching my knowledge on a topic I'm particularly passionate about - coffee.

Case in point: a recent discovery that is likely to become an obsession, Beanies Flavoured Coffee.