I had this vision in my head of achieving a layered look like Martyna Budna’s easy look above.  Androgynous but rock starry flavoured with a little horse play (it’s the Marc Jacobs shoes). And just as my hunt for the perfect pair of skinny jeans rounded a corner last weekend…. (it’s only taken up an ungodly proportion of my adult life?) the fashion world calls time on me.

My focus and my pant leg have narrowed over the weekend

As of Sunday, I can officially declare that I’m sticking with the skinny leg regardless. My focus and my pant leg have narrowed over the weekend.

You know I said that this summer would be about finally finding that perfect pairs of jeans? Well I see, in Paris, all the Lou Doillon types are still strolling about in their black Balenciaga drainpipes and platform wedges.  Who said they were O-V-E-R?

‘Damn, I thought as I shuffled past girls in their newest painted-on skinnies, Where did they find those giraffe like straight legs?’ I think like anything you have to listen to your inner voice and I can never imagine myself in anything that resembles the current love for denim flares. Can you?

Did I tell you that I think the right jeans can make me look taller? But bear with me for a sec, because I’ve been  hunting and scribbling furiously and have found out quite by accident that maybe despite what shops are touting there may be actual benefits to continuing the skinny jean trend.

Firstly, most pairs I’ve tried have made my legs look longer. Really you’re thinking. How? I’ll probably be guillotined for suggesting that is has something to do with the cut but in these Sass & Bide Skinny Boy Skin Tight Uniqlo super skinny specials and Topshop Moto black Leigh skinny shapes I think I felt a little taller. Seriously after trying on what seemed like 5,000 pairs, I looked taller in these three.

Secondly they made my legs look slimmer. And this I can explain, they have some sort of narrowing suction action.

Thirdly, the shades are dark, which is flattering, smart, versatile and any more buzz words you want to add just to strengthen my case here.

Fourthly, they offer a kind of bum corsetary.

Fifthly, the jeans I love the most are easy to find everywhere and thankfully they’re affordable.

Sixthly the perfect pair makes all other trends magically do-able, from T-shirts to ‘boyfriend jackets’ (layered if possible), clunky wedge shoes with a wedge the size of a doorstop (and even  with ballet flats with a visible cuff turned up on the outside, when I’ll have to revert to wearing flats because I’ll have almost kissed the Parisian pavement a few times.)

And, um have I told you about the most important point of all, number seven…. because they’re what I would consider ‘an investment piece’, I may have to bulk purchase????

Speaking of which some other brands (who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) did dig into my hips a bit. You know my struggle. You’re not laughing at me are you?

Climbing over a forgotten trunk at the side of the road was like stepping back in time. I took my favourite shoes onto this leafy carpet and waded carefully along this bluebell path. I have an insatiable love of the wild and anything that comes close to being foresty. If I so much as see a bird, I start swooning and Killarney National Park was meant to be our first stop last Monday when Mr. Goddess coaxed me back from the UK for an Irish road trip.

Exploring this place was like stepping into the past

One of the things on my to do list in life is to take a week off and visit an ancient forest. One day, one day!!! I have a deep love for getting lost far away from nowhere and I got a little bit of that feeling when I climbed over a fallen oak and slipped down into a deserted brown leafy path cutting through an intoxicating bluebell wood. Exploring this place was like stepping into the past. It was quiet and peaceful with secret ancient sounds and scents.

The reason I’m wearing my Topshop shoes and tie-dye socks? We didn’t even reach the national park before we spotted a fallen tree at the side of the road and it was too late by the time I’d clamoured over it….. a whole bluebell wood stretched out before us. Yes you guessed right, within a few minutes I’d slipped off my shoes and left them on this fallen tree stump. Do you think they look like they were born from this tree?

I walked barefoot through the bluebell path, careful not to shake one. (My grandmother used to tell me a folk tale about a bluebell ringing out a sound that only fairies can hear and they would rush from their hiding places and enchant you – never to be seen again). If you don’t believe in fairies you might agree that what my Gran was really trying to do was to stop us trampling and plucking the flowers as children so as not to weaken the following year’s bluebells. In the UK now bluebells are rare and a protected species.

Okay, so it’s back to the city with tales of bluebells in my head…. But the scent has stayed with me somehow. I’m also remembering something about their stems….the sap can be used as starch (they kind of smell like it). Here’s a little link to loads of British bluebell walks if you fancy a tiptoe next weekend.

Oh and a friend has just reminded me that the bluebell was voted Britain’s favourite wild flower recently. Their scent is so good. But there are so many others to love too….