That's smashion

I'm covering fashion week for 3news.co.nz.
So if you're that way inclined take a look:

Daily posts..

..The odd picture

DRESS UP OR DIE has it all!

YUM YUM YUM 

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Full time battler

I have been wondering lately whether I should delete this blog. I hate to admit it. I hate even more that I am admitting it to no one. For surely anyone who flicked to this page stopped doing so after the posts dried up. To remaining stragglers - I’m sorry. All I can say is that my routine became so consumed with study that any space in my mind for interesting thoughts, musings, or inspiration, was smothered by the daily grind.

I’ve finished my degree now. The five and a half year build up came and went relatively quietly, and I’m left trying to figure out my life - a challenge faced by grads year after year. Most have a plan. I do not. So when I was thinking about this blog - between shifts watching The Wire and fretting about my lack of motivation – I realised that giving up on it could have a domino effect. Soon I would be giving up on brushing my teeth and showering. The time to act is now.

To mark this change, I have decided to dedicate this post to the top 5 harsh realities that I have realised you face when the sweet hot water bottle that is university goes cold in your arms.

1. You don’t have a heavy workload anymore.

Uni students love to talk about how stressed they are. I did it. All the time, every day, repeatedly. I knew no one cared. It’s really quite dull, and no one can say anything that will ease your stress, but man it feels good to vent. You feel like you’re achieving something by reeling off the impossibly large list of tasks you have to have done by 4pm Friday. Your bosses despise your excuses, your non-uni friends think it is tedious and repetitive, and your parents tolerate it because they love you. The only person you can rant to without guilt is a fellow busy student. And even they don’t really care but are just pleased because the agreement is reciprocal. They are allowed to follow your rant with an equally long rant about their workload. Then you can both fret and grind your teeth together. But once it’s done and uni experience complete, all that work become a memory. You can ride the achievement wave for a while, but too long and you become similar to a celebrity obsessed with their one hit. Bret Michaels springs to mind. Every episode of Rock of Love that I watched  (which was like 2, ehem) he managed to pull out that dusty old acoustic and sing ‘Every rose has its thorn’, like he had written it in 2009 rather than 1988. Your big achievement, your one hit. As I settled in for an afternoon nap last Tuesday, I wondered – will an undergraduate degree be mine? 

 
2. If the world was a high school, you would be a third former.

Yes, it’s true. Pack a lunch to carry in that giant backpack, because you have no money for sushi. You’re grasping for scraps. Desperate to please and make an impression. Give me a job, go on.

3. You are a social pariah.

Alienated from the uni clique and not welcome at the young-corporates' indoor sporting games or after work drinks. You are a lone wolf, free to e-mail hopefully and consider your options, alone.

4. You cannot go ANYWHERE.

You are free. Yes. The world is your oyster. No. 
It costs money to go on a plane, or leave the house.

 

5. Everyone is interested in your plans.

Family, family friends, friends, friends of friends.

“So, what are you up to now?”

I HAVE NO IDEA.

Hopefully all readers are feeling good about their own positions right now. But if my gloomy speel is a mirror of your own anxiety, let me know, we can commiserate together. No doubt we both have free time to kill. For now, I have Mariah Carey and her emancipation. It’s inspiring stuff. I listen to a hit a day. She had hers, I’m thinking I’ll have mine.
xx

Claps all round

Australian fashion week has been and gone, but I thought I would post some images of Dion Lee's amazing show, all the same. This designer is only 24! Phew I love his summer collection.
xx

I've been indoors for a while now

Lately I've been working on my spelling and grammar skills. 

I've always been ok at that sort of stuff, but not great. It's so easy to be lazy and use spell-check religiously, but then, before you know it, you're 23 and battling over how to spell the word 'vague'. Ehem.

Anyway, I was teaching literacy, so I got confronted by my crapness and figured it was time to brush up. Now I'm quite into it!

I started reading this book today: Eats, Shoots & Leaves - it's great!

The author, Lynne Truss, points out that punctuation is generally pretty misunderstood today, and examples are everywhere. She also highlights the importance of punctuation in shaping the meaning of our words and uses this example (which I have uplifted) to make the point:

Dear Jack,

I want a man who knows what love is all 

about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful.

People who are not like you admit to being 

useless and inferior. You have ruined me for

other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings

whatsoever when we're apart. I can be

forever happy - will you let me be yours?

  

                                        Jill

Different use of punctuation results in...

Dear Jack,

I want a man who knows what love is. All

about you are generous, kind, thoughtful

people, who are not like you. Admit to being

useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For

other men I yearn! For you I have no feelings

whatsoever. When we're apart I can be

forever happy. Will you let me be?

Yours,

                                        Jill

Ahh, I like tricky things like that. But the one thing I don't agree with in this book is the idea that text messaging is ruining our spelling/grammar skills. I think that predictive has actually made my spelling skills a whole lot better, because it doesn't let you write the word incorrectly. I have learned many a word after stubbornly trying to enter the spelling I have (for my whole life) believed to be correct, only to find - living a lie.

Not much else to say on this, because I've learned from experience that often what seems interesting in my head can turn out to be a rock chained to the leg of conversation which then gets pushed into the sea.

Could have done with a comma in there?

ALRIGHT, I'm going

xx

Wayne's World rules.

xx

Gin Wigmore has it

Last night, we were at my friend Anja's birthday party, having some drinks, some laughs, taking some photos, then quickly crowding the camera to  have a look at those photos, and so on. There were only a few of us, so it was like when you go a long holiday with one or two others, and the lineup gets so familiar you have to try and get creative with  poses and expressions (to mix it up). Someone suggested we all pouted, simple enough. No, not really - we had to try and re-try and re-try because the weakest link (me) was ruining it. Involuntary! I never knew, but I can't pout.

I can get grumpy,

pack a sad,

pretty sure I've kissed a couple of people,

so what have I been doing all my life?

After a series of unsuccessful attempts, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses became a whirring blur around me as my mind began to race. Memories came flooding in of the day I realised I couldn't roll my tongue, or wink. The shame of having to whisper to my drama teacher that picking me to be the murderer in wink murder would just defeat the purpose of the game, and her nodding back sympathetically.

Whyeeeeee??!

So I got to thinking about pouting. At home I googled it, and found out that techically it's:

'A protrusion of the lips, especially as an expression of sullen discontent'.

I remembered a friend saying that you just had to say 'prawn' and you were pouting, I thought about famous pouts like Angelina and Posh. But it was getting a bit forced, my lips were dry from all the work and my eyes beaten by images like this:

Honestlyyyyyyy

And even though I felt sulky about the fact that I couldn't pout, I had no idea how I was expressng that, since there's no pout stock on hand, I was probably grinning.
xx

Headphones and sunglasses and daydreaming

I'm being a bit of a lazy blogger at the moment.

That's because I shouldn't really be writing posts, I should be writing essays. 

So as a compromise I call on my old friend youtube to entertain. I guess you could just go on it yourself to watch clips..But no no, then you'd get lost in a haze of freakish singing children, cute animals etc, and we'd all be spending way too much time online.  

Anyway, I have no idea who I was addressing before, so to the point: I like music and I'm not into downloading (seems a bit dry). Much more fun searching for songs on youtube . Sometimes you find the song you're looking for played over a weird animated clip that someone's made at home (who could be bovered?), or a bizzare photo montage (see last bracket). But sometimes you can find awesome live clips, like this one - 

xx

I couldn't possibly.

Why is it so damn hard to be a grown up?

As I get older (24 in October, gulp) I've begun to notice some things:

Friends are having babies, buying houses and responsible cars, but I still find it quite tough just keeping a tidy room. When I get changed there's an uncontrollable urge inside me to drop everything on the ground. A friend once looked at the mounds of clothes gathering dust on my floor and asked bluntly: ' why not just hang it up?'.Yes, why? Hmm..I have got a bit better, thanks.

But still - If my light goes, I would really rather enlist someone else to change the bulb than do it myself.

Regular supermarket trips? Forget it. I wearily crunch through about 4 pieces of vogels in a day and find myself drifting into this train of thought:

Why haven't I been to the supermarket?

No car, quite a mission

Why not?

Can't really drive (got my restricted by some miracle, but lets face it - have developed a driving phobia since then).

Learn properly?

Prefer to avoid it for a bit longer.

And so you see, the cycle continues. But I figure there must be a reason for all this unproductive behaviour. It is fun to be a little bit pathetic and a lot bit silly. Speaking of which, my flatmate Lisa showed me this Mystery Jets video the other day, which made me smile (sillily) and distracted me from all my grown up responsibilities of the day. Ahh.

xx:

Looks good to me

I love love Regina Spektor so much - her new album Far is amazing!

This is the video for one her new songs (EET) - excellent!

xx

Squared

My friend Sylvie (yes, same name) is leaving Auckland on Thursday, to go far away. 

I'm going to miss her so much, and I asked her to write a little something before she leaves. Here it is - 

'I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave' says Lil Wayne, and it's like he's singing about me. I feel most wanted when people say goodbye to me. 

I am quite good at leaving - for some reason it brings out the best in me.Given my restless childhood spent shifting around New Zealand and around the world, I guess it's no wonder I'm so good at packing up and moving on. I never own much more than what will fit inside a suitcase. I love the promise of new experiences that comes with venturing away from the safety of home. And I love the rush of freedom you get when you realise you've just arrived in a city where no-one knows who you are.

But the thing I love most about leaving is that it gives you the opportunity to tell everyone how much you love them. The anticipated departure makes these moments bitter-sweet, but it's always nice to hear you'll be missed. And it's cool being able to tell your friends and family how you feel. 

We always wait til the last minute, until it's necessary, or even expected, to say we love each other. Maybe we should do it more often.
xx

Not another one

The humble handshake.
What's with that?
It seems like everywhere you go, every time you meet or greet someone, a handshake is on order, and I for one am not a fan.
Employers, friends, friends of friends - it's constant. Even turning on my phone presents me with an image of two virtual hands clasping.
Every time I go in for one it's like when I go in for a salt and vinegar chip:(my mouth ripples in anticipation of the extreme vinegar), my hands glaze over with sweat.
I'm sorry, maybe it's the humidity, maybe it's just over-thinking, but every time! And then the meeting is ruined by me thinking about how sickly my sweaty palm must have felt. Everyone my age talks about awkwardness, which is funny, I never hear my mum describe anything as awkward, or anyone in that generation. Maybe you just shift from anxiety to relaxation with age. Or maybe there's just more to be awkward about now, or we're just more aware of it. If body language says it all, what does a sweaty palm say?
I think I need to move to Europe, a kiss on either cheek suits me much better.
xx

These days

Life seems busy at the moment, which is the best. 

Lots going on but some things never change:

I am still obsessed with Florence and the Machine

and my new bag/camera/ life as a clean-room person:

xx

Tiny tea rooms

I've only ever lived in two cities in my life - Auckland and Wellington (Oh and a couple of months in Dublin), so I guess three.  I've never lived in a small town anyway, but I've always had a kind of fascination with them.  Over Easter weekend I went to a family reunion in Westport on the West Coast of the South Island. I liked the way there were so few people cluttering the streets down there. Everything seemed so chilled, pretty much perfect for a holiday.
xx

Salty skin II

I watched a documentary called The Cove a few nights ago, about the annual slaughter of dolphins in Taiji, Japan. It's really about more than just that, and definitely worth watching. But be prepared to get gripped by - the world has so many problems - anxiety, which I get pretty regularly when thinking about war, politics, poverty, or just where all our rubbish goes. Anyway, because The Cove is all about the abuse and exploitation of animals, I was inspired write an update on my earlier post about the meat/no meat conundrum.

Basically, I became a vegetarian, and have been for about three months now.  It's been surprisingly easy, I crave meat now and then but that's balanced by the fact that I've generally become a more exciting eater. The restaurant experience is completely different: I used to head straight for the chicken (even kebabs), yip - a poultry loyalist. But now, my options are whittled down to a teeny tiny list most of the time, which is great, there's no fussing about and everything's usually delicious. Or in some cases (Bouchon, Soto) I just order the one thing on the menu I can.

Cooking at home's become a little more creative too. I've tried and tested a whole lot of different meals and food, some good: marinated tofu. Some not: vegetarian burger patties (taste like earth). 

And of course, like every change, it has it's challenges:

-Trying not to get too defensive or too preachy when quizzed on it.

-Feeling guilty about still loving leather

-Wondering whether your friends are disappointed when you present them with a vegetarian dinner.

But at the end of the day, getting your meal served first on a long distance flight - can't argue with that.

xx

Happy birthday to you

It was my friend Zoe's birthday on Thursday (that's her and I in Hiroshima - above). 

I was a bit hopeless on the celebration front, so i though I'd devote a post to her and all her amazingness -

Happy birthday zo zo!

Love you lots

xx

Pretty basic II

Photos from today
xx

A whole new world

I bought a new camera today! Really just want to show off about that.
I've spent the last little while playing round with it, learning how it works (always a but tentative with new technology), and taking some photos of my room and what's on the walls.

Happy days
xx

My favourite

Models at the moment

xx

Lara Stone

Tallulah Morton

You and only you

 

I love hearing about peoples lives and experiences.  

Like when you admire someone and then learn about how they got to where they are. Or you read about a really bizarre job and wonder how on earth anyone ended up doing it. Or you have a conversation with a person you hardly know and realise they're completely different to what you'd thought.

That's why I like NO magazine, it's devoted to talented and creative people with a story to tell. The 9th issue (above) is of special importance to me because it features two articles written by my good friend Angie Crane: interviews with Sarah Brannon and Matt Hall. 

Brilliant!

xx

Click

I went to see The Dead Weather play at the Powerstation on Wednesday night.

It was amazing, so so good. My girl crush on Alison Mosshart is now times ten. And JACK WHITE! I cannot stop thinking about how talented/natural/interesting/cool he is.

xx

Confessions

I chose the title of this post because it basically covers the two topics I wanted to discuss today. The first is revealing guilty pleasures and the second is pop music. 'Confessions' you see, is the name of an Usher album.  The tone of this album was confessional because it came about after Usher cheated on his long term girlfriend and got his 'bit on the side' pregnant.  How do I know this? Simple: I have a secret love of trashy pop.  Usher isn't really a guilty pleasure of mine, in fact I find him quite painful. But I still know a bit about him, as I do a lot of pop stars.  I'm probably not alone here, since the word 'pop' derives from 'popular' it's fair to say that it can't only be 15 year old girls who revel in the chart toppers. 

I'm going to Lady Gaga next Saturday, bought a Beyonce DVD a couple of weeks ago (amazing), and am a lifelong fan of Gwen Stefani. Ah, it feels good to say. But my love of the lowbrow doesn't stop at music, oh no, as soon as I get on a long distance flight and have a huge selection of movies available, my first point of call is the beloved chick flick. On my way back from Japan I devoured  Confessions of a shopaholic and I love you, Man. Neither was particularly good, and I could pass them off with the age old - I just needed something i could zone out to - line, but really..really, is that even true?

I'm going to put it out there and say that a healthy does of pop in your life does wonders. Bad day? Break up? Try a power ballad, I would recommend Mariah. Not modern Mariah, but the Mariah of back in the day who had an epic perm and sung with Boyz II Men.  Everyone says that music these days has gone to the dogs, and sure, a lot of it's pretty bad. My taste does not extend to the current trend of electro plagued pop (ala Black Eyed Peas). But there's a lot of goodness out there too, see my picks below:
xx

The old 

The new

It's all good

Big bad wolf

Is everyone afraid of bus drivers? 

When I get on a train and I see the train guard coming my way - doesn't bother me. 

Taxi drivers can be borderline, but mostly ok.

But bus drivers! Just plain scary.

It's something which I only really think about from time to time, I  probably catch the bus about twice a day and I'm not constantly fretting about it. But over the years, experience has taught me that you don't want to mess with a bus driver because they can get maaaad.

You can generally tell an angry one when you first get on, a few indicators are gruffness and surly handling of the coins. If there were no warning signs at ticket-stage you'll soon be able to tell by the way they drive. Some of them barge that bus along like its a mini rather than a huge clumsy mass of metal: ACCELERATE - BREAK - everyone is falling all over the place, the poor ones who missed out on a seat are all staggering around and having near misses on each corner.  If you still haven't been able to get a feel for the driver through their driving style then try going a bit further than you paid for, enough said.

They're not all bad though, obviously it's silly to generalise an entire profession. It's like saying that all construction workers are sleazy, or that all lawyers are greedy (not true), you get the point.  But maybe I'm so used to the fear that it's impossible to shake.  This post was inspired after a bus ride yesterday when the driver made a joke as I gave him my money. I was so taken aback that he had adressed me, (a bit beyond the usual take ticket, say thanks, move along, exchange), that I automatically thought he was growling me, and his grin was that kind you see on a jokey maniac. When I realised he was being friendly it felt so unsettling, like seeing your mum fall over or something, unfamiliar and jarring.  He must of thought I was a shaky leaf because I just babbled something nonsensical and rushed to the nearest seat. 

So maybe my predisposition to assume that bus drivers are mean sets the tone for how I interact with them, no rose tinted glasses here.  But hey, a bit of fear is healthy for a person in authority. I have a set of bus rules for this very reason: stick within the stages, avoid bringing messy food onboard and avoid avoid avoid twenty dollar notes, we all know how that ends up.

xx

Beautiful mess

I've always thought that if I had all the money in the world, I'd have a pretty amazing wardrobe,  which is why I always find it disappointing that so many celebs have horrible style. It all seems a bit self conscious, or not self conscious enough, I don't know, but then there are the rare ones who always get it right. 

One of my favourites is Alison Mosshart of The Kills and The Dead Weather.  

 

I kind of imagine her as someone who has always dressed the same, she seems so unaffected by the pretentiousness of the music (and fashion) industry.  Her hair is a bit of a shambles and she always wears pants, but she still looks completely feminine and classic.  I particularly like her penchant for hats, rings and leopard print.  

She summed up her appreciation of fashion pretty well in a recent interview with British VOGUE (Feb 2010):

"I'm far more interested in style than I am in fashion as an industry, I don't really care about that. But people with amazing style, really incredible clothes - it's an art and I appreciate that".

xx

 

  

  

 

Animals again

I can't get enough of Japanese artist Nagi Noda's animal wigs.

They are made from human hair, each one is a work of art

Nagi Noda (1973-2008)

xx

 

 

  

  

 

  

  

  

 

Love is in the air

I was thinking today about how much I love Baz Luhrmann movies, particularly Moulin Rouge.  I don't know many others who share this love, lots of people have said to me that they found the music annoying, or Nicole Kidman, or the theatrical over the top fast forward magic eye buzz of it all. But I liked these things, in fact I think it's probably one of the most visually spectacular films I've ever seen.  I love the detail in all the costumes: lots of colour, jewels and intricate embellishments. I love the men in black tuxedos and Kylie as a fairy and all the bursting into song. It's just a beautiful film..

Moulin Rouge wasn't the beginning of my love affair with Baz though, how could it be when the amazing Strictly Ballroom and Romeo and Juliet came before?  These two movies are both totally captivating, romantic and stunning.  I love in Romeo and Juliet that all the Montagues wear Hawaiian shirts (probably the only time I have ever liked a Hawaiian shirt on anyone), and Tybalt (generally) and all the religious iconography throughout the movie:

       

       

       

       

Strictly Ballroom plays on the grossness, craziness, and crassness of the ballroom dancing industry in Australia. I love all the tantrums and bickering, all the character's names (Tina Sparkle), the orange tan and severe accents. In amongst all this there is of course Fran, the one who steals the show, love love.

xx