Beautiful Badlands.

"I felt all kinds of things looking at the lights of Cheyenne, but most important I made up my mind to never tag around with a hell-bent type, no matter how in love with him I was."

Badlands, Terence Malick's 1973 tribute to murderous youthful rebellion, has burrowed itself deep into my style subconscious. So much so that the very edges of my eyes seem encrusted with the red grit of those sandy Montana plains.

Sissy Spacek's flushed ingénue Holly knows so little about the disjointed world she inhabits- her life is furnished by the gossip of trashy magazines and the mind-numbing inertia of baton twirling. That is until bad-boy garbage collector Kit shows her the true meaning of getting your hands dirty (leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, of course).

Holly is the sweetest of runaways, all strawberry blonde hair and high-buttoned naivety. A dewy mirage in the scorched wilderness. An accomplice to murder that you'd be happy to take home to your mother. As unsure of herself as she is sure of her unhinged lover, she follows him without question, hands bloodied along the way.

Sweet sundresses and frothy white blouses are the fierce antithesis of her criminal status. Everything is teamed with that tough-wearing perennial, denim. Loafers and socks complete this most perfectly innocent of disguises. Saccharine utility.

And if there is anyone that can make double-denim look positively bad-ass, it's two murderess fugitives in the badlands of Montana.

With this in mind, all I want to wear right now is breezy cotton in traditional prints, the barest of makeup and denim... with everything.

Cheap Monday, Hansel from Basel, Topshop, Benefit, Lover, Chanel, Lascivious