Scary Charleston

Hello! You might have noticed I haven’t been posting so much lately. There are two reasons for this: one, I have been too busy with other things (like life, and stuff); and two, my camera is still broken from when I smashed it in Fez (sob!). I can’t bear using my little snappy-happy camera for anything more than a still-life (no shutter remote). Of course, I could have fobbed you off with lots of stories about other people’s work, but that seems a bit lame too, so I decided to take another trawl through the archives.

I came across this small series of photos I took back when I did a story on my little sequined harem shorts. I decided the outfit had a Flapper feel (despite that an original Flapper never showed this much leg) so was channeling the Charleston. And because whenever I’m in front of the camera, as soon as the serious part is over, I can’t resist the urge to pull faces (only when no-one else is around and I am in sole control of the output). So the Charleston wave turned into tiger’s paws and the smile turned into a snarl – rawr!

Normally of course, I am a total pussycat.

Farewell My Striped T

Farewell My Striped T :: Tejas // Ina’s 1969 // Laser Lemon GelOn my last trip overseas, I took a striped t-shirt with me. It was very cute, with 40s style little puff sleeves and ruching on the sides.

About ten days in, and after its second laundering, I noticed it was starting to look unattractively pilled. Never mind, I thought: Out with the old – in with the new!

I had already purchased a classic black and white striped tee from Zara, for about €12. On the morning of my departure from Porto, I packed my bags and left the old tee behind for the maid to do with it what she willed. Lisbon awaited.

It’s Spring, Hooray Hooray!

I tell you, Melburnians have desperately been awaiting spring after a particularly cold winter this year. A couple of weeks ago we had a lick of sunshine and warmer weather, and that only made us more eager for the real thing. And it’s here at last!

Spring is such a hopeful season; inspirational. Those lovely new rain-washed colours of clear blue skies and fresh green leaves and buds are so uplifting to the spirits. Spring is when you feel something wonderful might be about to happen. (Such as money falling from heaven so that you can buy a whole new wardrobe of joyful hues, and do away with winter dullness!)

Sour cherry tree [image from Wikipedia]Spring is the time for poetry, here’s some: my own, and the eternally beautiful words of Rainer Maria Rilke.

The first balmy breezes
of spring fill my skirts
and lift me up
rush through my hair
like a whirling dervish
caress my eyelids
like a lover

The scent of evening blossoms
carries me off
to a faraway land
where the air is filled
with fluttering petals
and my feet fly over a fragrant carpet
to my hopeful bower

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
~Rainer Maria Rilke

Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.
~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke

A Good Pompom

Hornbecker // Blanko Noir // No flash

I love a good pompom. So does my cousin Naughty Amelia-Jane. She was passing the Indian boutique Tree of Life when a bath mat in the window display caught her eye.

Once inside, she decided to have a look around for anything else that might take her fancy. The pompoms trimming this scarf drew her like a magnet; the bold gingham print and classic colour combination of black, red and white clinched the deal.

Sisters Livin’ in the Seventies

So here are my sisters and I lined up on a metallic gold jacquard vinyl couch in the house on Huntingdale Rd. It's the 70s, and the little cutie in a red frock with white bobby socks and desert boots is me.

Star is still part of the white sock brigade like me, rustically teamed with fluffy blue slippers. I'll bet anything my mum picked out that purple and white geometric print dress, since purple is her favourite colour. She inflicted an equally hideous magenta purple garment on me when I was about eight, for Lily's wedding.

My oldest sisters have discarded socks and graduated to sandals and wedges.  Blossom (who must be around 17 or 18) is holding me. She is fetchingly attired in a lurid plaid dress featuring a built-in white short-sleeved cardi. My other sister in the Alice band, Lily with the Legs, is wearing what is probably a polyester floral-print dress.

What a pity all these clothes must have been consigned to the charity bin decades ago!