Peaches Geldof
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Ugh, can't stand her trying to model, and the lace sleeves of that black dress is terrible. But I don't know what it is about her that I don't really mind. I think it could be because I haven't read about her and honestly couldn't give a flying yaknowwhat, but although her style is pretty generic, I don't mind it.
Why did they have to invite her to the Luella show?
For some reason she makes the papers- (someone please explain to me why), so it guarentees Luella publicity. I doubt that anyone in the fashion industry takes her that seriously, they just want the column inches.
hotcouture
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it's because she's interesting-looking, YOUNG, fashionable, and "cool"
there's always space in the media for celebs.. even if they haven't done a single thing to warrant their fame. peaches is an excellent example of this.
there's always space in the media for celebs.. even if they haven't done a single thing to warrant their fame. peaches is an excellent example of this.
sadiefrost
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oh my GOODNESS! hahahahhahaha am wetting myself right now:
Source: Getty images
Source: Getty images
Briar_Rose
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the pic in 371 is really pretty!
who was she modeling for?? what is happening with the world...
who was she modeling for?? what is happening with the world...
Boots & Perfume
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Don't love her as a model, but i love her personal style
One week in September
Peaches Geldof
Student
Wednesday, September 5 Two of my best friends are fashion designers. Actually, I don't know if you can call Phil and Rich "fashion designers": they are two old school chaps with a love of rock music, schmoozing, glamour and getting drunk, and the idea that, despite having no previous experience, they can create a superbrand: the Rodnik label.
Usually when a designer's clothes are installed in a store, that designer might do a photo call or some interviews. Rodnik decided this was too low-key and instead bought a kids' drum kit for Rich, a keyboard for my friend Fred, and two mics. I asked Phil why he had bought two mics and he explained, "Of course, my darling, you will be the other rock star." I told him the whole idea was ridiculous and yet I'm now about to get on a plane to New York to play an absurd guerrilla gig in Barneys.
Thursday I'm flying over with Fred, and Fred's flatmate, Anthony. The economy seats are horrible and mine has a loose spring. It is my first time in New York. We spend the night trying and failing to get into bars, and eating super-size McDonald's. We all end up sitting in the Jacuzzi in my hotel bathroom.
Friday After the previous night's festivities, am feeling decidedly worse for wear. We eat huge breakfasts: great mountains of pancakes covered in syrup with sides of eggs Benedict and enough bacon to feed an army. That night we attend the Prada party in high spirits. It's New York fashion week and the fashion pack mingle with the glitterati and stare at projections of Damien Hirst's diamond-encrusted skull while sipping dry Martini.
Saturday It is the day of the show. I arrive at Barneys late, and find the two of them nervous and excited. I change into a logo T-shirt and skyscraper patent leather stacked heels. We decide to sing live. It is all very Spinal Tap, Fred pretending to play his kiddies' keyboard wearing dark glasses, Rich pretending to be Ian Curtis while playing the logo-ed drums, Phil twirling a parasol and caterwauling his half-rapped vocals and me singing (badly) with unnerving zeal. The show ends and I smash up the mini drum in true rock'n'roll style. Rapturous applause fills the fifth floor of Barneys.
Monday Fred, Anth and I spend the next two days shopping in Williamsburg's vintage emporium and staring up at Trump Tower. I dance on the piano mat at FAO Schwarz and feel like Tom Hanks in Big.
Wednesday I leave New York having fallen in love with the place, and receive a message from Phil: "Remember that I am a conceptual genius, not a drunken idiot."
http://www.guardian.co.uk/weekend/story/0,,2194110,00.html
Peaches Geldof
Student
Wednesday, September 5 Two of my best friends are fashion designers. Actually, I don't know if you can call Phil and Rich "fashion designers": they are two old school chaps with a love of rock music, schmoozing, glamour and getting drunk, and the idea that, despite having no previous experience, they can create a superbrand: the Rodnik label.
Usually when a designer's clothes are installed in a store, that designer might do a photo call or some interviews. Rodnik decided this was too low-key and instead bought a kids' drum kit for Rich, a keyboard for my friend Fred, and two mics. I asked Phil why he had bought two mics and he explained, "Of course, my darling, you will be the other rock star." I told him the whole idea was ridiculous and yet I'm now about to get on a plane to New York to play an absurd guerrilla gig in Barneys.
Thursday I'm flying over with Fred, and Fred's flatmate, Anthony. The economy seats are horrible and mine has a loose spring. It is my first time in New York. We spend the night trying and failing to get into bars, and eating super-size McDonald's. We all end up sitting in the Jacuzzi in my hotel bathroom.
Friday After the previous night's festivities, am feeling decidedly worse for wear. We eat huge breakfasts: great mountains of pancakes covered in syrup with sides of eggs Benedict and enough bacon to feed an army. That night we attend the Prada party in high spirits. It's New York fashion week and the fashion pack mingle with the glitterati and stare at projections of Damien Hirst's diamond-encrusted skull while sipping dry Martini.
Saturday It is the day of the show. I arrive at Barneys late, and find the two of them nervous and excited. I change into a logo T-shirt and skyscraper patent leather stacked heels. We decide to sing live. It is all very Spinal Tap, Fred pretending to play his kiddies' keyboard wearing dark glasses, Rich pretending to be Ian Curtis while playing the logo-ed drums, Phil twirling a parasol and caterwauling his half-rapped vocals and me singing (badly) with unnerving zeal. The show ends and I smash up the mini drum in true rock'n'roll style. Rapturous applause fills the fifth floor of Barneys.
Monday Fred, Anth and I spend the next two days shopping in Williamsburg's vintage emporium and staring up at Trump Tower. I dance on the piano mat at FAO Schwarz and feel like Tom Hanks in Big.
Wednesday I leave New York having fallen in love with the place, and receive a message from Phil: "Remember that I am a conceptual genius, not a drunken idiot."
http://www.guardian.co.uk/weekend/story/0,,2194110,00.html
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satin chic
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^ I agree. Putting her with the Olsens and Kate Moss? She must feel even more like the sh*t now. 
donnie darko
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^
she certainly looks like sh*t compared to them.
P.S Has got acquainted with the girl, http://cyberblady.com, how it to you? Only it is fair!
she certainly looks like sh*t compared to them.
P.S Has got acquainted with the girl, http://cyberblady.com, how it to you? Only it is fair!
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