This gorgeous antique print from the 19th century is of the Spathiphyllum, otherwise known as The Peace Lily. A common house plant, it's quite resilient and tough to kill and constantly reminds me of one of the many fond memories of English gent before he became MY English gent. I make sure always to have this cheap and cheerful plant in ANY residence I occupy.

Dear Ether, 

I ran into him at the vegetable section at Sainsbury’s in New Cross Gate.  I was 21 years old and he was 19.  He was carrying one of those dainty ferns that have delicate, petal like leaves that sadly die unless you have a masterful green thumb.  He didn’t have a basket and was carrying too much in his arms.  His face was slight obstructed by the plant.  “You might want to try a Spathiphyllum instead.  They’re almost impossible to kill and they let you know when they’re desperate for a drink—their leaves totally droop and look depressed.”  He looked past the greenery to see who the voice was coming from and grinned when he saw me.  “Hiya.  I don’t know what the hell a Spathiphyllum is but if you know a plant with a fucking name like that, I better take your word for it and put this one back.”  He was so damned good-looking and that accent then was still so novel.  So classy!  I felt like I was chatting with someone Bertie Wooster might know. 

I was doing my midnight shopping as usual because I was a night owl and the store was dead.  I still found UK supermarkets a marvel.  They were so different than the large American ones and I loved strolling down the aisles and buying things I’d never heard of before to taste (though Mr. Brains Frozen Faggots never did make the tick-list).  English gent was wearing a very hip beanie covering his hair so I didn’t see his normally trendy blonde hair cut.  All I could see were his beautifully sculpted features and his dark eyebrows and lashes with his rare peridot green eyes.  I noticed he had a bottle of Jack Daniels as part of his shopping along with writing paper, some pens and oddly a prayer candle.  “What are you up to tonight?” I asked him nonchalantly.  I had been hanging out with him along with a few of my flatmates recently.  He went to boarding school with one of the guys I was living with and was particularly friendly with him and came over to our halls a lot.  The three of us often stayed up talking, drinking, smoking weed and listening to chill music.  I only bothered with this banter because of him.  I felt when we argued over a political point or some other runaway discussion there was some sort of sexual tension.  But then he would just act as mates when we would run into each other.  

“Tonight.  Fuck me.  I have a paper to write.  The whiskey always inspires me,” he chuckled. “And is the prayer candle lit to give you a hope from god to help you finish the thing?” I asked.  He laughed.  “No, I love to write poetry by candlelight and these last forever.” He writes poetry too….oh man……! “Well, I’m not up to anything, so if you finish your paper and you wanna pop on over when you’re done it’d be cool to hang out.”  He nodded his head negatively. “This one is gonna be an all nighter.  But thanks anyway.  I better get that plant—the—Spatha—that whatever you recommended and get going.  Cheers!”  I was gutted.  I just didn’t get it.  I guess he knew I liked him and wasn’t interested.  I meandered around Sainsbury’s a bit more, no longer keen on the novelty of the place and saw him, well, the tall leaves of his plant, in the check-out line, and watched him go.  Sauntering home with, I think that night, Marmite flavored crisps (a nasty surprise) I was bored stiff and cozied up with a book and passed out.  But at 2:30am my mobile rang.  It was English gent.  I was excited, but had to sound calm and cool.  “Hey, what’s up?  How’s your work going?”  He sounded relaxed and relieved.  “I’m done, actually and have a full bottle of whiskey and not a friend in the world tonight.  Mind if I come over?”  MIND?  Of course not!  But, as we Americans say, this was NOT going to be a “booty call.” 

I feverishly threw on something cute, but not trying “too hard cute,” stashed away my candy wrappers and waited with my heart in my chest.  He didn’t knock–he just texted saying he was about to come in the flat.  I jolted up from my bed, opened the door and there he stood.  Diesel jeans (perfect cut), vintage top with a fantastic toggle coat, chic boots (rugged and manly, yet still on trend) the bottle of booze and that damned dashing grin.  Two kisses on each cheek he was in the door, 3 hours later we were drunk, and an hour later I was ready to pass out.  “Can I sleep here tonight?  I can’t be asked to head back to my flat.” Okay.  Remember. NO BOOTY CALL.  SINGLE BED.  SO…WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?  “Sure, do you mind sleeping on the floor, I have a spare duvet and a pillow—it’ll be padded and comfy.”  He looked taken aback, but not too shocked.  I think he thought I was going to invite him to sleep with me.  

By the time I came back from the bathroom where I changed and brushed my teeth, he was passed out.  He was like one of my English novelties I had brought back from the supermarket.  Except I hadn’t tried him—yet.  No, this one I was going to savor, because I didn’t know if it had a day old expiry date.  I stared at him.  His lashes spread out like fans almost touching his cheeks, a slight squint as if he was thinking in a dream, his lips slightly parted blowing air out making a feather from the duvet flicker.  I knew he couldn’t hear me.  He was way too drunk and way too deep in sleep.  So I whispered, “I think I love you.  And I have a feeling we’re going to be together.  You’ll see.  When I want something and I try hard enough, I get it.”  Oh if only the two of us knew how right I was to be that night.  

Dedicatedly yours,

—One of 365

Dear Ethers,

I’ve been looking at my past “Wish Lists” and they have seemed very “adult.” Very “grown-up.”  Now, I have nothing against this—in fact, I think there is nothing classier than a woman who is wearing something understated, well-cut, elegant with just a slight tweak of trend to her outfit.  But, being on the cusp of (cough, cough) 30, I want to embrace the joy of reckless youth and funky dressing.  And I DO indeed mix it up.  I don’t have a particular style that you could connect me to.  I could buy a smart pair of clean, black trousers from Joseph and then order something from Net-a-Porter and buy something outlandishly fabulous.  I think life would be boring if you didn’t put your clothes in a funky blender.  

Now, many of you will think this Monday’s choice is a little bonkers.  But, I figured if I am going to go for it, MAN am I going to go for it!  I chose Sonia Rykiel because she is so French and so fun.   English Gent’s mother bought me a sweater from Madame Rykiel that is so beautiful.  It’s taupe with multi-colored cherries all over it.  I get compliments every single time I wear it.  What’s ideal about her collection is she has a diffusion line for the younger crowd and a higher-end line for the more sophisticated bunch.  But what’s great is that both collections mix and match beautifully, and I’ve done that with my “Wish List.”  Just keep in mind, Rykiel is MEANT to be a bit off the beaten path.  I’m not crazy here—she is known for her abstract colors and wild ways.  But that is what makes her so unique! Now remember, a “Wish List” has to be all from one designer top-to-toe, so you are getting 100% Sonia!

So here’s the back story on our girl.  She’s a trendy-chick who is studying in France for the year and really wants to embrace everything she can about the country. She’s REALLY into fashion and she knows that she looks totally tongue and cheek in this get-up but loves the attention.  It’s a bit of old world Paris style that’s been given some LSD and brought to 2009.  She’s got a great figure so even though this might look a little out there, it’s “catwalk crazy” to the folks who notice her and they might applaud the endeavour.  She’s keeping slightly toasty because the season is changing, but no need for a heavy coat or stockings yet.  She loves art, Karl Lagerfeld (but of course, he’s a “LEGEND DARLING”), crepes, black coffee and men with nicotine stained fingers and wing-tipped shoes.  She’s bloody wealthy, but shhhhhh, you mustn’t tell anyone, for she must be part of the starving artists to get in with the salon sitting groups and must secretly sneak into Colette to get her fashions.  She’s always got a camera with her snapping away the sites and a great group of friends whom she rides the Metro with and speaks scatty French to.  She loves to have a smoke on the top of the Musee de Orsay and her dream  is to fall in love with a man who looks like Cary Grant, but can dance like Justin Timberlake.  Shall we meet our belle femme?

PS: This is dedicated to a follower of mine named Julie who is French Canadian and who I thought of right away when I began to think of this post. To you Julie, une source d’inspiration!  xoxoxoxox

Dedicatedly yours,

—One of 365

This cheeky and fun sweater is fab because of the French word play (come here darling, pull over)--but it is also describing what the actually piece is--a pull-over! I think it would fit our girl snugly, be very cool and she would make a lot of her French citizens laugh. I also think it looks kinda retro with the lettering--almost as if her granny sewed the words on for her! Wool Intarsia Sweater, 550 pounds, soniarykiel.com

I love that this has an artists look to it. There is an illusion of a belt there, but it is merely just part of the fabric. Slung low on the hips with the sweater, I think it is all Tres Artistic! And again, playing with different mediums in cloth is really fun. You'll see how the pink will be key with the other elements of the outfit in the next few choices. Trompe L'Oeil Belt Skirt, 198 pounds, soniarykiel.com

How fun are these! They are the perfect pop of color, they match the top and the pink in the skirt perfectly and they show off the legs beautifully in a wild and funky way. I think this is such a great alternative to tights because you are not corseted around the waist and they are not as heavy and stuffy. If you think these are bonkers, wait till you see what's coming up! Isn't our belle incroyable? Multi Striped Socks, 25 pounds, soniarykiel.com

Aren't these so old world French? They are the perfect shoe to wear with the socks and the skirt. This is a girl who is running about town. She is in no mood to be dealing with heels and besides, these are very "I'm an artist!" The vintage feel goes with the sweater and the whole idea of French culture. This style shoe is globally very hip right now so this can be worn with shorts, linen trousers, a skirt. They are just a good, comfy purchase. Derby Moccasin Flat, Originally 207 pounds Now 100 pounds, soniarykiel.com

Oh yes! You knew it was coming! A beret of course! But in hot pink--never! And now you know why the belt on the skirt and the stripes in the socks make sense! This is such a cute play on the classic and she can wear it with her tresses long and flowing or in a side bun with a dollop of gloss and some cat eyes and mascara and she'll look gorgeous. LOVE IT! Beret, 35 pounds, soniarykiel.com

And as a final little accessory, this is a lovely little ribbon pin that she can put in her beret....but I was thinking what would be cooler is if she held her bun up with bobby pins and then attached the ribbon to it using the bobby pins to keep it in place. Look, it may be too much, but ribbons are SO on trend right now and this girl is going for it, so I say tack it on! Little Ribbon Pin, 80 pounds, soniarykiel.com

PS: If you enjoyed this “Wish List” please visit my sidebar under Wish List for other brands and see the fab stories and colorful creations I’ve come up with. I’m a magazine writer so the posts are like fun editorial pages. Also check out “Fashion Fridays” on the side bar if the Wish List still hasn’t fed your fashionista fancy. It’s a lot of fun too. Happy Monday