Daisy Chains

Me and Daisy...

Daisy and Jennie

Rocking Teller’s lense in countless Marc Jacobs ad’s, as well as topping all my fashion polls with her innate sense of British style, tailored to her own taste with kooky vintage finds and designer goods ( no doubt loaded upon her by the designers themselves); everyone desperate for their own signature splash on a bit of Daisy. These are just some of the reason’s why I, along with millions of others, love her.

So as I sat in the staff room at work, flicking through some trashy gossip magazine that had been left behind, I couldn’t help but be drawn to an article claiming that her relationship with the new Doctor Who, the dashing Matt Smith, was over due to the fact that he was more into the relationship than she was; hardly suprising I thought to myself. Later on, during my practically daily visit to Urban Outfitters after work, I was sitting beside my friend on one of the store’s signature distressed leather sofa’s, engaging in a spot of people-watching. At one point, an unshaven, skinny-jeaned, Ray-Ban wearing guy walking by with a noticably cool swagger caught my eye. I couldn’t help but nudge my friend and point out his obvious charisma that was tangible from a distance. As he walked up the stairs past us, the girl he was with followed close behind and as she ascended the steps we caught eyes. It was Daisy Lowe.

The Queen of Cool herself, was in Belfast?! How could this be? And the very same day I’d read the article about her love-life, and an ill-informed one at that! All I knew was that I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to meet one of my fashion heros; and she did not disappoint. What charm she obviously has in style, she did not lack in personality. She successfully calmed me down from my starstuck panic, signed a Marc Jacobs ad from my copy of Teen Vogue which I luckily had stashed in my bag (not her one unfortunately- now that would have been too perfect), posed for this photo and chatted to me about everything from how she was planning to study Law before she shot to supermodel stardom, to how she liked my outfit (!!!!!). All inbetween my incoherant gushing about how much I loved her work and personal style. My questions on what it was like working with one of my favourite photographers, Juergan Teller, as well as what is was like breaking boundaries by being a relatively normal size in an industry so cut-throat on enforcing conformity to super-skinny, got lost admist her warm chattiness and lack of aloofness. I could have been chatting to an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while- the cool factor still present and awe-inspiring, but not prominant enough to be intimiating. Although she did change into the top she was buying in the store right there at the counter where she paid for it; in full view of everyone. Now that,it must be said, is too cool.

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