Oh what a beautiful morning…..styleisle is here to stay


So it’s 6.47am on a bright Saturday morning and despite the two cocktails I drank in the Dylan last night (which I thought would put me to sleep), I am wide awake. Now this is not because of alcohol. It’s because I AM IN THE PAPER TODAY AND I AM SO EXCITED I CAN’T STAY IN BED ANY LONGER!

Now 7am is a little early to run to the petrol station for the paper, so I made some tea and sat in beddie byes for another twenty minutes. That done, I just have to get up. The suspense is killing me. I jump into my tracksuit from the Stella McCartney range for Addidas (if you’re going to look good, you might as well extend this theory to the gym and your daily jogs in the park) and walk at a very fast pace to the petrol station which has a very nice coffee shop so I can get some coffee too, not that I need to be more awake than I am right now.

I get to the counter of the shop and I pay the most sacred €2 for the Irish Independent. I order a coffee and decide I will not open the paper until I have the coffee. It’s like waiting for an eternity to pass even though it was less than 5 minutes.

Latte in one hand, the weekender magazine in the other. I flick through to find my page. Passed the pages about Rugby players and their wives, passed the beauty section. I get to the start of the fashion bit so I must be getting closer. My heart is pounding by now.

Page 20. There I am. Do you remember that episode of sex and the city when Carrie is on the front page of the New Yorker? She gets so excited, she runs down to the newstand in her night dress to discover the cover is not so attractive. WELL THAT DID NOT HAPPEN TO ME…..I LOVE IT!

There is me, sitting in my favourite outfit, looking happy as larry ready and willing to talk fashion to the lovely Holly White. I read through the piece and it’s exactly how I wanted it to be. Just me talking style. YIPPEE!

I finish the coffee and pick up the paper and go merrily on my way back down the N11 to home. I am a very pleased fashion bunny.

styleisle out. x (for at least an hour anyway while I leap around my apartment in happiness)

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