I went to Perth for the holidays because my parents, sisters and dogs live there and also, my family from Cape Town came over for an Australian holiday and I haven't seen them in years. I went from living alone to living with ten people and I loved every minute of it! Of course I fought with my mother, burnt my nose despite using sunscreen and ate too much but through all that I fell in love with the city that has a population of five. It was my first landing when I arrived in Aus and whilst it might not have as much to offer in the way of nightlife, restaurants and um, anything reasonably priced. It has a lifestyle that our Northern Hemisphere mates only dream of! Which is probably why they are all bloody there.
I am really happy in Melbourne but I am not against the idea of eventually ending up in a little cottage beside the sea in the most isolated city in the world. I have been a little depressed over the last two years, I won't lie. I have put it down to not enough sun and not being near the ocean enough. My grandad has been cursed with Parkinsons disease and while he is not very old he can hardly walk or talk as the disease is slowly ripping through him. My dad, brother-in-law and cousin carried him into the sea at sunset the night before I left and he swam with all of us, his family, for ages.
That night he had a spring in his step and a glow about him that none of us had seen in ages. The sea can do that to a person. When you are out there you feel so insignificant. Your problems seem to evaporate and seem petty as you struggle against the waves and battle to comprehend the sheer vastness of that body of water. You practically feel like you have been baptised when you eventually get out. It seems to wash away doubt and make you feel almost brand new.
Yes I'm a hippy now.
Here are my instagramz from my trip back to Western Australia. Instagram in my camera! I should think about getting an actual camera but really...I don't see much point. I have a little Mini Diana which I have been using as well. Either way, I have been capturing my moments.
I popped my hair cherry today...literally! This is the first time I have ever dyed my hair and I gave Bee from Peggy Sue's Salon here in Perth free reign with the only guideline being that I wanted to go red. As you can see, the girl hooked me up with a zesty cherry red.
If you ever manage to get an appointment at this salon when you are in Perth grab it with both hands because Bee is a hair wizard and she dyes your locks to the sounds of Fleetwood Mac. I had such a great day.
It's crazy how one change, one day, one tiny experience can alter a bit of perspective. I'm feeling all inspired and fuzzy inside and looking forward to 2013 and returning to Melbourne.
My very good friend and talented artist Ryan Boserio has a show in Fremantle TONIGHT! Yes tonight. Hurry! It's at Hole in the Wall Gallery on Adelaide Street. Don't know where that is? Google is your frieeeeeend. Hey, I'm posting this mega late (there is a pattern here) but I actually just remembered whilst in the shower and was like 'SHIT!!!' so here you go, last minute hustle to Freo for all youWestern Australians. It starts at 6! Sooooooo that's like in half an hour.
Watch Ryan in action...
Man that boy is talented. It also happens that he was responsible for this piece of work...
Yes he saw my boobies and was the perfect gentleman. Do you guys remember this photo? Damn, this was like 18 months ago now! How time flies when you're having fun and freezing your ass off in Melbourne.
I have seriously been relocating since I was 18. I have packed up everything and crossed international borders four times in my life. Not to mention the amount of apartments I've had in the last 4 years alone. I moved to Australia in 2007 and have moved house 4 times. That's once year which is once a year too fucking many. I am moving to Melbourne from Perth. For those who aren't up to speed with Australian geography, Perth is west west yo! and Melbs is east. It's a 5 hour flight with a 2 hour time difference to boot. Yup, it's a big ass island is this one! I am relocating for work reasons mainly but the bigger picture is, is that I am not Australian and I have only lived in the one city the entire time I have resided down under. Apparently I'm 'gonna love Melbourne'....I am quite moist when I think about this new adventure but a little sad to leave behind a tiny city in Aus that has always made me feel really welcome. They say moving is as stressful as a death in the family, I reckon it's worse.
I think the 'stress' that comes in to play is only partly due to it being a lot of hard and boring work but it's the emotional roller coaster that is exhausting. Us humans hoard a lot of 'stuff'. Even those smug assholes who carry the 'travel light' mantra will be surprised at how much shit they have when they begin to scratch the surface. Oh and how scratching the surface can make stuff bleed! For example, when packing up I discovered an old shoe box that contained every single birthday card I have received from my parents and grandparents starting right from my first birthday. Um, how this has managed to travel the globe with me I'll never know. What do you do with this shit? It's not like I sit there once a year reading old birthday cards while eating birthday cake and reminiscing about my third birthday party now is it? BUT...do you know how heart wrenching it is to just throw shit like that away? THE GUILT! Oh the fucking guilt. You just feel like a bad person with a heart of stone when you throw something like that in the bin on top of last nights left over dinner innit?
This is what I mean about the emotional ups, downs and turnarounds. You look around you a couple of nights before packing and you're like, 'meh, I don't have that much stuff' and THEN you start opening cupboards and drawers and you're like, 'OH fuck.' I am all about silver linings and finding the upside in shit situations, so when I think of the devastating floods and earthquakes, I can't help to feel slightly jel that at least they got rid of all their crap. I mean, if a flood came through my house and washed away my 4 broken swivel Nokia mobile phones, my box of old birthday cards, my box of 'just in case' shit which involves a My Little Pony birthday invitation pad (because you never know), 673 clothing items that I will never wear again in a million years but I keep because someday I might, my collection of cookie cutters even though the last time I baked was 2004....to name a few. These are things I forget I even have until I move house and I come across them and then reach the proverbial fork in the road....do I chuck it or do I continue to carry it around with me like a gangrenous limb? If I forgot I even had this crap I wouldn't even miss it, ya know? Hence why I think it would be the silver lining of a natural disaster because something bigger than me just comes along and makes the fucking decision for me. (I'm always paranoid I use the word 'hence' incorrectly so feel free to correct me, I need to learn)
Moving is emotionally draining because of the all day long nostalgia. Coming across old photos, nick nacks and souvenirs that transport you back to happy, sad or crazy times. One minute you are gazing at an old photo of when you and your best friend from when you were 13 the next you are stumbling across movie stubs you kept from the dates you went on with your ex. (I legit threw away 2 movie tickets from when I watched 'Hitch' at Shepherds Bush cinemas the other day) all while you are sweating and lifting and packing you are forced into going back in time and it's draining. But would we have it any other way? Do we want to walk into a stark white room with no signs that anyone ever lived there? Do you want Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones to walk in and make you forget everything up until todays date? No bloody way. This is why I decided that on my move from Perth to Melbourne I would assign myself 10 boxes for everything. Whatever didn't make it got chucked because there is no shoe box, Ikea storage system or bottom kitchen drawer that can hold anything better than the grey matter between my ears. This way, I carry everything with me wherever I go, there is no charge for excess luggage and home is wherever I am.
OK...I'm probably about to lose alot of readers after this post, but I have had it up to *here* with this label, and I'll tell you why. Firstly, I am not a fashion blog and I have never claimed to be...mainly because I am not a fan of the stock standard fashion blogger...wanna know why? Because their 'opinions' are never honest. 99% of the time I have seen blog posts humping the leg of some shit fashion show like it was a Marc Jacobs at NYFW or some shit. Mean time it looked like Spotlight had a sale on and they had to put some crap together in under 10 minutes ala Project Runway. Then these 'fashion writers' blog about how 'innovotive' 'gorgeous' 'amazing' it all was. Vomit bucket please. I don't doubt that these designers have talent, but don't be telling them lies because they will live under the illusion that they are the next Stella McCartney or something. Ugh whatever, its a kiss ass industry...and I am happy to be the Simon Cowell amongst the Paula's. ANYWAY, I digress from the subject at hand...Wheels and Dollbaby.
I have been familiar with Melanie and the label for many years. And while it was not love at first sight, it definitely grew on me and I would almost call myself a fan...almost. W&DB; is a Western Australian fashion success story, and after living in Perth for the last 3 years, I totally get how anything reaching that kind of level in the fashion industry from this small town would be a major coup. I get it. Being a curvy woman myself (curvy meaning about 5 hot dinners away from being a chubba) I appreciate a designer who enjoys tits and ass, and the 50's pin up look definitely embraces said glands. I understand the labels vision and have been impressed with how they have stopped themselves from going from 'risky' to 'trashy', as the line is thin as thin can be. Until now that is ...
I attended the Wheels show on Monday night, I bet they regret giving me the free ticket now because I am about to rant my ass off. I refuse to write a post about how fucking incredible it was when in actual fact, underwhelming would be a better description. The show was a sell out (of course it was always gonna be) and the crowd were um, OK. So, bums on seats, lights go out and 3 washed up has beens step out, aka The Divinyls (oh how rock n roll) I actually thought they played tribute at The Moon and Sixpence on a Sunday...my bad. It's not that impressive actually because Melanie Greensmith's partner is Mark Mcentee from the bloody band. And by the looks of things, they didn't even scrub up for the occasion. Oh fuck you if you think they were good, you are lying! You know they weren't!
How often do you think she has to get something down from the shelf for him?
So the models come out. All hot. All have zero tits...but whatever. The clothes are cute. But nothing we haven't seen before. Same garments, different prints and fabrics. All polyester. Ha ha, I kid...I don't know if it was poly blend...I just said that for effect. Anyway, yeah the clothes were mmmkay. The models were better. The little pink bathrobes at the end were the highlight for me. Black liquid eyeliner, red lips, fake beauty spots. All chic. All retro. It was 'nice'. Ronnie Wood's daughter Leah came out at the end and gave us a song, which was cool. All in all, a good show. Mediocre but good.
So now here's my beef. A W&DB; dress retails for around $300 on average. And I should know, I shelled out on a little black number last year but it was worth every penny. It hugs every curve and makes my tits look great. The problem is they don't make many of these well fitted, beautifully cut dresses. Well if they do, they ain't in the King Street store. All they seem to be churning out are those bloody singlets with the logo on it which goes for around 80 bucks. Something the kids can afford! And by golly do they buy it. Then they murder it with some shit jeans and flip flops. Gone is the vision of the retro look of yesteryear. Gone is the sultry, suggestive hint of thigh and its all just a bunch of girls with bad taste, a 'sick sleeve' and a washed out singlet. Wanna hear what else? I was in the boutique 2 weeks ago and they had a plastic sale bin in the middle of the floor with 'SALE' written in biro on an A4 piece of paper. Um...yes. Then there are the bimbos who love any oppertunity to look like a slut, and think they are 'Dollbaby's'. Oh God. And boy do they get it wrong. They would do more for the brand if they wiped their ass with it. You wanna snag a millionare, instead you snagged a pimp.
I love you Mel but sort it out! The bogans are raping your label! And you ain't helping. Raise the bar! Keep it out of reach from the peasants. Fuck, now I hear you are stocked in General Pants too? Oh God. What's next? City Beach?
I'm sorry if I have ruffled any feathers, but it's just what I do. I love W&DB; too, but I just hate how they seem to be dipping to a level that is beneath them, instead of expecting their buyer to step up their game. I mean, fucking Burberry nearly went under when the famous print was seen more on the chavs at a football game than on the Sloane Rangers of Chelsea. Sure, they coulda cashed in on it, but instead they got 'ol Katie Moss on board and gave themselves a make over. Brand integrity and longevity should be the priority, for long term profitability. Hey man, I could make loads more money if I became a stripper, but then...how do I want to be remembered?