Whatever it is, I’m against it!

February 5th, 2011 § 3

Apparently because I don’t listen to crap, commercial music or read best sellers like Eat, Prey, Davinci Code, Live  or whatever the fuck it’ called, I don’t like anything. Preposterous right? OK so I hate orders of magnitude more stuff than I love but that’s just being discerning. For example, I love the Marx Brothers and this clip from Duck Soup really speaks to me Whatever it is I’m against it. Furthermore, I love The Ramones more than you will ever know and in the late 70s,  this song summed up the rebellious apathy I felt  towards my dreary, outer suburban, adolescent life I’m Against It

I love Nirvana beyond measure, this being one of my favourite songs in the whole world Aneurysm I find it unbelievable when people tell me they don’t listen to this band any more. WTF?

I love Faith No More and was super excited when they reformed in 2010 and I got to see them again, twice! Oh how I love Mike Patton <3

I love reading, especially SF or speculative fiction as some may prefer to call it. I really, really, really love Iain M Banks and Neal Stephenson

At the moment I am mostly loving my new shoes purchased by me, for me, for my big, fat, ugly birthday containing a zero. Sigh, that I don’t love one iota.

I feel dull.

January 22nd, 2011 § 0

Sadly I returned to work this week after more than 3 weeks of leisure and needless to say I am wholly lacking inspiration, which is why I haven’t posted on here. I find that working 9-5 turns me into a dullard.   ‘I got nothing’.  So in the interests of giving the people something to read  and being lazy and all, I refer you to this interesting piece on one of my favourite blogs.  Paul’s Boutique, as immortalised by the Beastie Boys, has burned down. Read about it here EV Grieve.

On another note, I have discovered the joys of  iphone Scrabble, which is nice.

Rage Against The Vintage (RATV)

January 10th, 2011 § 6

Prompted by S, I am going to rage against the concept of  ‘vintage’. But first let me assure you that as a woman with more than a passing fancy in all things clothing and shoe related, I am not going to denigrate the beauty and value of an original Ossie Clark or a Rive Gauche era YSL or hell, even a well-preserved, gorgeous relic from the 80s or a Mr K jersey frock from the 70s. No, instead I am going to rage against the purloining of the term vintage, so that it now means any old, second-hand, shit clothing. I’m talking about cheap, crap stuff that  held no design merit from the outset, and is now sold as vintage, often at extortionate prices. Some deluded folk think that just because their clothes are old, they’re vintage and amazing.  Excuse me hipster but that horrid polyester knit you are wearing is not even ironically vintage, it was fucking ugly upon its all too recent manufacture and remains as such.

What makes something vintage? With cars it’s being more than 30 years old but does this apply to fashion? In order to grasp this vintage concept a good place to start would be to peruse this gorgeous online boutique Decadestwo. See no crappy, smelly polyester to be found.  I own some old stuff that could be considered vintage. Look, here I am in the 80s rocking a very dubious look. I still have the top somewhere, don’t think I would wear it now though. Interesting related fact, my mother knit that one for me from an Anny Blatt pattern (OMG  AB still exists!).

Here I am later in the 80s at a wedding. My mother made that dress too and it’s still around, not that it fits me. It is silk velvet and completely lined.

Some patent and suede shoes from the 70s.

A dress that I ‘curated’ from an op shop (thrift store) during the 70s. I think it might be from the 40s? It has gorgeous beading.

A 60s leopard print faux fur coat found in an op shop.

A leather and real fur coat purchased from a ‘vintage store’ at a stupid price.

Quite a few years ago, my friend E, during the course of  her then employment, found a stash valium from the 1970s. Of course we partook, all the while stating that we were so fucking cool that even our drugs were vintage! Ah happy times. BTW E owns an original Ossie Clark coat which is stunning (wish I had a pic) that she found in a garage sale in New Zealand.

The day that Satan ice-skates to work…….

January 4th, 2011 § 7

……is the day that I will make a new year’s resolution! Fuck that shit, I do what I want in my own time. Here I am on NYE 2010 prior to becoming completely shit-faced. I never do outfit posts, I don’t have the requisite pigeon-toed stance going on and you can’t really see my outfit but here goes:  Helmut Lang dress 2010, shoes Camilla Skovgaard 2010 (more on these in a minute), OMG rings Wendy Brandes and the finger (Deborah Lippmann Across the Universe nailpolish) to resolutions!

Speaking of shoes (as pictured below), my feet are still numb after the epic, old-school, 24-hour trashing of NYE. That’s a lot of  hours in 4.5  inch stilettos and enough to fuck anyone’s shit up.

I kept being reminded of that Steve Martin story called Cruel Shoes but the more wasted I got, the more comfy the cruel shoes became. It’s like magic! I hope all you bitches had an excellent NYE 2010. Mine was indeed, brilliant and most banging.

OMG happy xmas!

December 25th, 2010 § 1

My Xmas present from B. The OMG rings from the wonderful  Wendy Brandes. Happy holidays!


You’re in the gutter!

December 18th, 2010 § 1

Am I the only one who has noticed this thing whereby people sit on the curb in the gutter? It’s bizarre, why the fuck would you want to sit in filth? The other day I saw two girls sitting in the gutter quite happily and festively, sharing a bottle of bubbly! No they weren’t swigging from the bottle akin to the folk who usually populate gutters, they had proper wine glasses and all. Are they mental? I am so intrigued by this micro-trend that I did a search and lo and behold, it’s happening elsewhere. Take a look at this link The Grumbler. According to the Grumbler, it’s been happening for years in NYC!  Ay curmba, we are so behind the times in Melbourne.

Seasons in the Abyss

November 21st, 2010 § 1

Do I really need to remind you how good Slayer are?

Seasons In The Abyss

OMFG this makes me really fucking happy.

In case you think I only like metal, I fucking love this too.

Set the controls for the heart of the sun

I love a lot of stuff.

Quite a few people are really shit.

November 20th, 2010 § 2

I am undergoing a period of introspection. As my next birthday approaches at a rate akin to light speed,  (It’s OK I know the laws of physics don’t allow this) I have been thinking about how fortuitous it is that I am endowed with such beautiful family and friends.  The family is just plain luck but it’s taken a large proportion of my life to gather a core of stupendous friends. The kind of folk who stick by you no matter what random unpleasantness goes down. In contrast I ponder the cuntishness of others.  I’m not talking in general here, although my misanthropy is legend and I have little time for our species. I mean faux friends  who you were never really comfortable with, who eventually prove themselves to be cunts.  The only thing to do with these undesirables is to kick them to the curb and spend more time with the people who matter. The discards are dead to me.

This is all sounding a little homespun preachy so as an antidote I bring you a gracious photo of me at Soundwave 2010.

It was 4 million degrees in that fucking tin shed and unfortunately that’s where all the metal bands played. This lovely shot was taken during Isis’s  set. Isis were awesome. I look unimpressed due to the unfeasibly intolerably hot conditions.  Sadly Isis have since disbanded. RIP, but at least they go out on a high. Behold one of my most loved tracks, it  is massive.

ISIS

Super!

November 6th, 2010 § 2

And I don’t mean a good thing. With the rapid onset of mid-life, it has become increasingly apparent that I have very little superannuation to speak of. Why is this? I don’t understand. Coupled with the grim reality that given my field of employment, failure to attract government funding will likely result in a  fast track to the dole queue. Phew! After many years of working, albeit interspersed with several university degrees, I really have nothing. I can’t even boast a fantastic archive of designer frippery, state of the art kitchen appliances, awesome mid 20th century furniture or years of amazing travel. Where the fuck did my money go? Why didn’t I put money into super? Jesus wept what a fucking downer, best concentrate on something  uplifting like my new 2-week plan.

This

Or maybe this useful little gorgeous thing
Or this Vivienne Westwood frock that I have been coveting for ages

And I need summer shoes
See, I am financially planning!

Maryary.

October 30th, 2010 § 3

I loathe arbitrary decision making. For example, why the fuck was it decided that we only have 4 weeks annual leave? Huh, who made that decision and based on what evidence that this would be good thing? So in the interests of myself, I would like to propose an additional month, all of which will be a motherfucking holiday! People, yes, a 13th month! A month not of  30 or 31 days, but 40 days of holiday bliss. I am going to call this new, triumphant month, MARYARY. Huzzah! Come let us celebrate with some Floridian, technical death metal,  just to remind you that this will not be a religious holiday.

Atheist

P.S. Having visited Florida for the first time a couple of years ago, I totally understand why that region has produced so much death metal! Behold, our accommodation at the Disney World Hotel!

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