Improv Everywhere

This is so impressive. 207 actors all freezing in place for 5 minutes at Grand Central Station in New York.



I find these guys very inspiring. You can read more about them here.

Courtesy of SultanaBlog

Street style - It's all about the Specs

Custom-made spectacles from Ispex. It's not too clear in the photo, but they are in the style of Ray Ban Wayfarers. As sunglasses I admit that they're a bit passé, but I love them reinterpreted as reading-glass frames.
I also love her jodhpur-style trousers. I intend to take a trip to Horseland for some black breeches and leather boots. Just between you and me, it's the best place for classic leather shoes and high-waisted, skinny leg pants in fabric that isn't denim.

Missing Art Results in Sales Assistant's Laughter

I was on my way to work today, walking past the glass art installation cabinets in the Flinders Street subway, when something caught my eye. Each of the cabinets along both sides of the walkway was filled with the work of young Australian writers - zines, photos, reprints of published work, letters, journal entries etc.. all apart from the last cabinet on the left-hand side. This cabinet was completely bare except for the sticker identifying the name of the writer - in this case Ianto Ware from Adelaide, whom I know from my own zine-writing past - and a hastily scribbled on sheet of A4 paper taped to the back wall.

Here is a photo of the cabinet:


To give you an idea of why I noticed it, here are photos of some of the other artists' cabinets:




So I walked over to the bare cabinet to see what was written on that single sheet of paper and this is what I saw...


Wonderful!

Street style - Chef's pants

A great example of something stylish and a little imaginative. The girl's pants are from Savers, and at $3 are, in my opinion, a far more intelligent and original choice than what one could find at Alice Euphemia for around $400.
Her friend is also wearing a shirt from Savers with a pair of jeans she lent him.

Street style - Warsaw vintage

It's nice to see something that is simple and stylish, which deviates from the current 'hipster' uniform of high-wasted jeans, tucked-in tee or tank, and white canvas sneakers.

What caught my eye about this girl was the way her blue eyes, blonde hair and dark eyebrows worked with the blue dress to create a look that was striking but simple. The design of the dress is pretty basic but the colour was amazing and she had it hemmed to just the right length to keep it from looking dowdy.

Bonus trivia: The girl bought this dress from a vintage dress shop (Sukienka) in Warsaw where she lived for a year teaching English. This is of interest to me for two reasons:
1) She isn't actually Polish, she just loves Warsaw; and
2) I am Polish and I've never met a non-Pole who's voluntarily chosen to live in Poland.

On the Train (from my iMate)

I'm on the train to work, and not only am I running late by one train (therefore 15 minutes), but I've got no make-up on save for my shiny sunscreen, and am wearing the old, square-framed sunnies I keep in the glovebox of my car because my good, round-framed sunnies are still lying somewhere at home. I also left my camera at home. Again. And my hair is half damp and therefore fuzzy from the shower. Not to mention the fact that I have foot powder on my leggings because I was in too much of a hurry to wipe it off, and my teeth are unbrushed. And in my mad rush from the car I left my jacket behind which, despite it being a sunny 25C day, I will miss later as I'm always unnecessarily cold.
And I didn't eat breakfast.

At least it's a public holiday so work will be quiet. And it's only a 5 hour shift. And I'm going to see Lucio Fulci's Zombie with Joe Dante's Piranha tonight at the Astor. So life isn't really all that bad.

UPDATE: Zombie was a little boresville* and doesn't seem to have aged very well as far as 70's horror films go. Piranha on the other hand was entertaining, full of blood, and quite funny, in an intentional, not 'this is so ridiculous' way (although it had plenty of that too). It was also a good source of unexpected fashion inspiration in the form of svelte young women sporting various combinations of high-waisted short shorts, wide leg dark denim jeans, plaited leather belts, knitted waistcoats, coloured bikinis and tight t-shirts. I'm now considering hiring out a bunch of old 70's movies and taking notes.

*boresville = snoretastic, dullsville, snooze-worthy.

Heath Ledger

I've been uncertain whether I should post anything about Heath Ledger's death for the past few days, but I find myself unable to continue posting without making some reference to it. I know that in the future I will look back on this blog as a kind of chronicle of my life and experiences around the time in which it was kept and I will feel ashamed at myself for not acknowledging his passing in some way.
I've followed his career and successes with great interest and, while I'm not about to claim I knew him in any way (I didn't, but we went to neighbouring high schools and I know many people who did), I've found myself feeling really shocked, disappointed and saddened by his death.
So I've decided to post the tributes to Heath written by his family that were printed in the Friday edition of the West Australian newspaper, because they are so beautiful and, in my opinion, more relevant than any of the minute-by-minute details being posted all over the web at the moment.

From his father:
"'Heatho,' 'Beef,' . . . my beautiful boy, so loving, so talented, so independent, so caring, so young . . . no more chess games mate . . . this is it, couldn't beat you anyway!
My body aches for the sound of your voice, our chats, our laughs and our life and times together."
Your truly varied artistic skills, insatiable desire to improve and eclectic abilities set you apart from any other person on the planet . . . it had only just started for you … and for us to further enjoy. We were one, in soul and commitment. Just . . . Father and Son. I will love you forever, Dad."

From his mother:
"Our darling boy, special in so many ways to all of us. You knew you were so loved. You lived life with courage and daring and we are so grateful for the wonderful times we shared. We will be there for Matilda. Your loving Mamma, Rog and Ash."

From his older sister:
"I can hardly breathe when I try to write this. We were the ultimate in soul mates. I feel both my heart and life have been torn apart. I loved our special talks, our daily chats from where ever you were in the world.
I especially loved all the precious time we spent together. We were so fortunate to have you as long as we did. You were so many things to so many people, but to me you were just my little brother.
There will never, ever be another "Heath" and I think that in itself is the greatest tragedy.
I will continue to talk with you everyday and love you just as if you were here. You will never leave my thoughts "Roast", ever."

From his younger sister:
"You're my idol, my hero, but most importantly, my loving big brother. I'll treasure every moment we spent together. I love you Heath, I miss you and pray every night you're safe."

From his whole family:
"How do we describe our sudden and tragic loss? … You were the most amazing individual "old soul" in a young man's body.
You so loved us, as we dearly loved you. As a close knit and very private family unit we have observed you so determined yet quietly travelling in your self-styled path in life, nothing would get in your way … no mountain too tall, no river too wide.
You dreamed your dreams and lived them with passion and intelligent commitment. We have been privileged to accompany you on a ride through life that has simply been amazing and through it all, we have loved each other beyond imagination.
Your true legacy lives on in beautiful little Matilda, who will always remain in the greatest of care. Our hearts are broken . . . Dad and Ines, Mum and Roger, Kate and Nathan, Rori and Scarlett, Ashleigh, Olivia, Elana and Nadia."

Street style - Centre Way

This girl comes in to my work all the time and I'm always impressed by her ability to put clothes together, especially for someone so young.
Jeans: Cheap Monday Top: Antipodium Scarf: St Andrew's Market Shoes: Kinki Gerlinki


Bag bought from gift store on Smith St (I have, very professionally, forgotten the name of the shop).


My feet! These Voodoo leggings are fantastic - extremely comfortable with no seams along the crutch area. $40 from Myer but currently on sale for $27. (Shoes from Bloch).

Brogues by Salvio's

I am somewhat in love with these shoes:



They're made by Salvio's, a Sydney-based dance shoe company which was started by Mr Enrique Salvio in Melbourne in 1881. The shoes are beautifully made in 100% leather and you can order any style in any combination of colours.
Alphaville in Melbourne also carry a small selection... but just between you and me, it's cheaper to get them custom made directly from Salvio's (keep that under your panama).

Tourist Information

I found this lying on the ground at the Bourke St tram stop while waiting for the 112. I can't say I entirely agree with the writer's somewhat limited recommendations for tourists, although I have to concede that Acland St does have some great cake shops. But I don't know that I'd put Luna Park on my list of top places to see - unless you're a fan of cheesy horror films, in which case St Kilda Beach probably is worth a visit too.
And on that note, shouldn't the recommendation be to go to the beach before gorging oneself on cakes? Perhaps the writer didn't have the reader's best intentions at heart after all.

Old Man with Bag

Juno and Kimya Dawson

I just saw Juno (which, incidentally, is just as wonderful and funny as I thought it would be) and am now hooked on The Moldy Peaches and Kimya Dawson, who I'd never heard of before. Or so I thought.
After looking her up I found the song I Like Giants on the internet and realised it was the same song I'd heard on the radio 6 months before that I'd been trying to find ever since.

Sweet musical serendipity.


Juno sountrack on Amazon
Kimya Dawson's latest album on Amazon

I Laughed

Courtesy of HolyJuan

This is a game show from Japan. I'm not sure what the rules are but I DARE YOU not to laugh.

Street style - Centre Way

(above)
Jeans and top: Extinct
Jacket and bag: Vintage
Shoes: Big W ($14.95)























(above left)
Jeans: Hem & Haw
Shoes: Fat

Rose Street Artist Market

In case you were wondering whether the 100 metre walk from Brunswick st to the Rose St Markets was worth it, this guy's taken it upon himself to make it worth your while.

Dilettante Opening

On my recent trip to Perth I was invited to the opening of my friend Didi's new high end fashion boutique in the city's expanding west side shopping district. Featuring exposed brick walls, metal-chain curtains, skeletons in glass cabinets wearing designer jewellery, and a back wall covered entirely in creeping ivy, Dilettante is a design masterwork and, stocking international labels like A.F Vandevorst, Anne Valérie Hash, Jens Laugesen, Lutz, Luella, Preen, Tsumori Chisato, Undercover, and Vivienne Westwood and local and New Zealand designers Arnsdorf, Romance Was Born, One Fell Swoop, T.V, and Jimmy D as well as shoes by Costume National, Hussein Chalayan and Olivia Morris, it is unlike anything else currently operating in Australia and a truly magical shopping experience.
And if you're like me and don't have a spare $3000 to spend on a pair of Vivienne Westwood high-waisted pants, you can always get a tub of Smith's Rosebud Salve for $9.


Didi Paolucci, owner and buyer at Dilettante and fellow ex-nightclub doorgirl.


Jodee Knowles with Kasia Kanik.


Kyoung Kim.




Kristen Angel, owner of Nyepovia.
To fund his high-end men's boutique in the newly developed Williams Lane, he packed his wardrobe of designer clothes and moved to the West Australian desert to work in the lucrative and physically demanding Mining Industry. This is a guy who works hard for what he wants.

The Future of Graffiti

Functionality over aesthetics.

The Real World

I'm cleaning out the overflowing canvas bag of things that used to belong in my school locker and I'm sad.
I've left the bag sitting in the corner of my room for over a month, delaying this eventual sorting and discarding of the last two years of my life, and now that it's being done I can't help but feel overwhelmed by this familiar, lonely feeling of loss and mourning. It hadn't affected me that much up till now - my leaving the course - not in such an absolute and final way. The day I cleared out my locker I walked through the school on my own, for what I knew was the last time, and allowed myself to indulge in some melancholy sentimentality. But it wasn't a new feeling. I'd felt it before, at the end of my first year, and also during the last few months of second year in preparation for the inevitable; I wanted to spread out the sadness.
But this is different. This is just me and my stuff and a low ache of regret; for my decision to leave and then my decision to stick to this decision while others are fighting to stay.
Have I done the right thing? I know I have, 100%, but I'm the one who cried every year when the annual 24hr Appealathon fundraiser ended on TV, or when I’d finished a novel, or when a long-running sitcom aired its final episode. I'm a sentimental, maudlin kind of person (although I try to hide it), and I'm simply not equipped for coping with endings and goodbyes.
So now all that’s left at the bottom of my oversized camping bag are a bottle of witch hazel, deodorant, a Beethoven CD borrowed from a classmate for Abstracting, a red square of towel from a first-term face washing ceremony, and some salt sachets. And as I look at these things, leaning on the edge of my bed with my cat and puppy for company, I realise it’s not the institution, or the building, or the curios I will miss, but the 28 or so people I shared it with, day to day, for over 45 hours a week.
And I don’t feel quite as sad anymore. Because they’re still available to me, I hope, and whether I had two or three years of stuff to unpack, the feeling of loss at losing my connection to those people in that context would probably be exactly the same.

Tiger Tiger

I'm sitting at Tiger Tiger in Perth, digesting my Granola Muesli with Poached Pears. No-one in Perth serves porridge; it's a little disconcerting. They also don't know the difference between a long mach and a strong latte, but Tiger Tiger do have free wireless so I'm not about to complain.
At a nearby table sits Peter from Create Digital Music with his entourage who are in town for the byteme festival. They have commandeered an entire table and covered it with an assortment of macbooks and other digital paraphernalia. One of them has an iphone which he's allowed me to play with for a couple minutes. Hearing him rave about it in his Californian drawl has sparked a new feedthegirl obsession.
I. Want. One.

Ten Things I Do to Myself That Are Not Nice

1. Shower with the water hotter than what is comfortable.
2. Forget to take pain killers when I have a headache till it turns into a migraine.
3. Eat more chinese dumplings than my stomach can hold.
4. Wear my tight jeans on days when I'm feeling bloated.
5. Wear shoes that I know give me blisters.
6. Squeeze pimples that don't need squeezing.
7. Stay up till 3 reading reviews on Amazon on a work night.
8. Put off doing my laundry till I've run out of clean underwear and towels.
9. Avoid calling my parents for so long that when I do it becomes 'an issue'.
10. Spend my last $40 on books on a Monday when I know I don't get paid till Friday.