Agent Amandine Magazine

Agent Amandine

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Salut les filles!

Well FINALLY, I have managed to move my derriere and publish my magazine, Agent Amandine. You can now read all about the exploits of Secret Agent Amandine, and her mission to uncover the most hideous crimes of fashion our capital has to offer. I hope you like!

Love, Amandine x

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Hip hopping in heels

Had it not been for Isadora Duncan and her pioneering of what we now know as contemporary dance, we probably wouldn’t be busting out our best hip-hop dance moves at the coolest ticket in town this weekend – ‘Breakin’ Convention’. So if you fancy doing something a little edgier than dancing round the Maypole this bank holiday, why not catch some of the world’s finest Poppers, Lockers, B-Boys and B-girls down at Sadler’s Wells. B-Girls you say? Ah ha, now that made my ears prick up as I’ve always wondered what it would be like to do the caterpillar in my Sweaty Betty cami.

So I had a little practice after my Bikram class this week and was dismayed to discover two fatal flaws in my bid to become the next ‘Nutcracker*’. One: my popping looks more like R2-D2, and two: it’s actually quite tricky to ‘pop’ in one’s Louboutins. In fact, my lovely friends have now coined the phrase ‘Pulling an Amandine’, aka the art of tumbling over Naomi-style while trying to bust some moves in designer heels. Which is why I’ve boycotted the dance floor and the only place I’ll be popping to now is the BC ’10 after party on Monday night. I’m much more at home with a martini and my Mulberry.

I’ll leave the moves to the professionals.

Love, Amandine x

* Sally Bryan AKA  ‘Nutcracker’ is one of the UK’s best female freestyle Poppers.

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Amandine in Wonderland

Sometimes I am prone to a little daydreaming and having just procured myself a copy of Alice in Wonderland, illustrated by the French artist Marie Laurencin (which originally sold for 16,000 francs 79 years ago…so yes I am in my smug tree!), I started to wonder whether there isn’t a little of Alice in all of us?

On this note, it is frustrating to read so many slating reviews of Tim Burton’s recent remake, obviously written by tradionalists who are bitter that Burton dared to indulge himself with the fantastical costumes and characters rather than create something sickly sweet and Disney-esque. I personally don’t see anything wrong with favouring style over substance, and let’s face it, the film was a feast for the eyes.

So back to my errant imagination – I began to daydream how I might play the part of Alice. Well first things first, WARDROBE! Get me some Louboutins and a Pucci maxi dress. There, that’s better. Then there’s the tea party – at my fête I would serve rose petal cupcakes and pornstar martinis (martini with a shot of champagne, darling). In Richmond Park. And the Mad Hatter would magically morph into Ryan Reynolds. Oh, what do you mean that’s no possible? It’s my daydream!!

Curiouser and Curiouser.

Love, Amandine x

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Love letters in the Strand

I started the day today as usual at Glow, with a skinny latte, a fresh-from-the-oven croissant and a good book. I have just read that in 1926, 15,000 lettres d’amour from Juliette Drouset to Victor Hugo were sold at auction for  18,000 francs. This reminded me of the recent news that secret love letters from JKF to his Swedish lover Gunilla von Post were sold at auction for $100,000.

Maybe I should print out all my blog posts and tie them up in a saucy red ribbon so that one day I will posthumously be worth a fortune? Although as they say, you can’t take it with you so on second thoughts, I could always slip on my Louboutins and slink out for a sneaky Martini with the Editor at the Sun.  After all, a little ‘publicity’ couldn’t really be that bad for a girl’s reputation. Could it?

Love, Amandine x

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