Quietly stylish women are seen carrying books.
Apparently many celebrities believe that being seen carrying books can boost their public image. Possibly true. Why not be seen as slightly intellectual? I know how easy it is to get carried away with reading for assignments and forget to do anything else except watch mindless television. That's why I've set myself a goal for this year, which is to read one book every month. I knew it was important to get a head start before uni begins, so I'm already up to April.
First I read 'The diaries of Ethel Turner' which I really enjoyed. It gave me a lot more insight into the day-to-day lives of young women in Australia early last century and a look into the mind of an incredibly natural and ahead-of-her-time writer.
My next book was called 'Reading Jackie', which was an analysis of Jackie Kennedy's later life through linking it with a discussion of the books that she chose to instigate and promote during her editing career. Not as gripping, but I finished it anyway. Lovely woman but she definitely needed to eat more.
March's book was called 'Honestly - notes on life' which is a collection of previously published columns by Nikki Gemmell for the Weekend Australian Magazine. My Mum put me on to Nikki Gemmell when I was in Queensland recently and I read some of her columns while I was there. She's a very accomplished writer and I'll be looking up her other books in the future. Maybe not the really raunchy ones. She's written a couple of non fiction books as well.
I bought my next two books today, $2.50 each. The $5 bookshop was half price this week. The first is called 'Stop what you're doing and read this!', which will hopefully explain to me why I'm bothering to read all these books in the first place. The second was chosen with the hope that it will inspire further blog posts as it is also a collection of columns, 'Writings on Life and Living' from The Philadelphia Inquirer, written by the author of 'Marley and me' John Grogan. It's called 'Life is like a sailboat'.
Well, I'll sign off now. I've got reading to do.
Friday, 8 February 2013
Friday, 1 February 2013
Do you have a sexy umbrella?
I had a black umbrella with a red frill all around the edge. One day I was walking across an intersection in Melbourne in the rain. A girl walked past with her boyfriend and said, 'That umbrella is so sexy'. I found this quite amusing. I bought it because I thought it was pretty.
A few months ago I was waiting to cross Collins Street holding the same umbrella above my head, feeling sure that I looked super sexy. A group of young guys were standing nearby and kept looking at me. They didn't have umbrellas. One said, 'Excuse me, can you tell me where you bought your umbrella?' Again I was highly amused and wondered whether they simply wanted to buy an umbrella, or whether they wanted one with a red frill all the way around.
Last Thursday the tram decided to terminate a few blocks from my apartment. I stepped out into rain that was absolutely bucketing down. When I popped up my umbrella I realized that the frame had snapped in two places. It was a sorry, drooping mess of an umbrella, distinctly unsexy. It was fun walking in the rain anyway. I knew I could jump into the shower as soon as I got home.
I was about to cross Collins Street again and a tall young man with glasses bounded across the street and hopped under my drooping umbrella. 'Can I share your umbrella?' he asked. 'Sure, I said. I really didn't expect this'. I meant that I really didn't expect it to be suddently pouring down rain. He replied, 'No pressure', thinking that I meant that I didn't expect to be sharing my umbrella. A bit embarrassing, but he sprinted off again as soon as the lights changed.
I'll have to think very carefully about my next umbrella purchase. A well-selected umbrella doesn't only protect you from the constantly changing weather conditions in Melbourne, but also has the potential to attract highly amusing and stimulating social situations on the street.
A few months ago I was waiting to cross Collins Street holding the same umbrella above my head, feeling sure that I looked super sexy. A group of young guys were standing nearby and kept looking at me. They didn't have umbrellas. One said, 'Excuse me, can you tell me where you bought your umbrella?' Again I was highly amused and wondered whether they simply wanted to buy an umbrella, or whether they wanted one with a red frill all the way around.
Last Thursday the tram decided to terminate a few blocks from my apartment. I stepped out into rain that was absolutely bucketing down. When I popped up my umbrella I realized that the frame had snapped in two places. It was a sorry, drooping mess of an umbrella, distinctly unsexy. It was fun walking in the rain anyway. I knew I could jump into the shower as soon as I got home.
I was about to cross Collins Street again and a tall young man with glasses bounded across the street and hopped under my drooping umbrella. 'Can I share your umbrella?' he asked. 'Sure, I said. I really didn't expect this'. I meant that I really didn't expect it to be suddently pouring down rain. He replied, 'No pressure', thinking that I meant that I didn't expect to be sharing my umbrella. A bit embarrassing, but he sprinted off again as soon as the lights changed.
I'll have to think very carefully about my next umbrella purchase. A well-selected umbrella doesn't only protect you from the constantly changing weather conditions in Melbourne, but also has the potential to attract highly amusing and stimulating social situations on the street.
Saturday, 19 January 2013
Dressing up is fun!
I don't know what possessed me to dress up as a clown for my 21st birthday party, but it was fun! The thing that wasn't fun was attempting to sew my own clown costume without the benefit of a pattern. I could see it in my mind. It was going to be fabulous! Black, white and pink, with pompom buttons on the front, baggy pants and probably a funny hat to top it off. The crotch area was my downfall. It turns out that for some things a pattern is indispensible.
Dressing up for singing was fun! My Fantine dress may have been ugly, but my Phantom of the Opera cloak was fantastic. My Wicked cloak was so big, black and dramatic. I loved wearing a red, sparkly hat and heels while singing 'the way you wear your hat, the way you sip your tea, the memory of all that, no, no they can't take that away from me'. Since then I have loved sparkly hats. I wore a gold one to work with orange pants on Halloween for the benefit of the babies. This prompted someone to say that I looked more as if I belonged on Broadway than in a childcare centre. 'How does she know?' I thought.
Dressing up for dancing was not always fun. Sometimes too much skin was on display. I've never been that comfortable with my body, but I put that aside and loved it anyway. I loved all the little details, the make-up, the sequins, glitter hairspray, shiny stockings, intricate head pieces, pink tights and pouffy tap dancing skirts. Those were the days.
Dressing up for musicals was so much fun! Every day for The King and I, I had to put my hair into a big, topknot on the top of my head. Not so easy. I had to wear a pastel, mauve ball dress that made me feel like an over-aged Cinderella. HMS Pinafore called for only one costume. I was obsessive about keeping mine spotlessly clean and ironed. My competitive side emerged of course, and I was determined to have the most prominent bustle (bottom) on stage. I re-sprayed my petticoat with starch between every show! My Fair Lady was an experience never to be forgotten. I was so sad to say goodbye to my Ascot gown, enormous hat and lacy parasol (all I have remaining are my white gloves, white tights and black, shiny shoes that I had to balance in so precariously - front and centre every night).
I love it when my theatrical side has the opportunity to pop out every so often. I will be on the lookout for opportunities. So 'stand back world' and 'hold your hats'! 'Before the parade passes by' you will see me 'stepping out', 'looking lively', 'trimming my tails', 'marching my band out' and 'all that jazz!' You should let your theatrical side out and invent opportunities to dress up too. It is so much fun!!
Dressing up for singing was fun! My Fantine dress may have been ugly, but my Phantom of the Opera cloak was fantastic. My Wicked cloak was so big, black and dramatic. I loved wearing a red, sparkly hat and heels while singing 'the way you wear your hat, the way you sip your tea, the memory of all that, no, no they can't take that away from me'. Since then I have loved sparkly hats. I wore a gold one to work with orange pants on Halloween for the benefit of the babies. This prompted someone to say that I looked more as if I belonged on Broadway than in a childcare centre. 'How does she know?' I thought.
Dressing up for dancing was not always fun. Sometimes too much skin was on display. I've never been that comfortable with my body, but I put that aside and loved it anyway. I loved all the little details, the make-up, the sequins, glitter hairspray, shiny stockings, intricate head pieces, pink tights and pouffy tap dancing skirts. Those were the days.
Dressing up for musicals was so much fun! Every day for The King and I, I had to put my hair into a big, topknot on the top of my head. Not so easy. I had to wear a pastel, mauve ball dress that made me feel like an over-aged Cinderella. HMS Pinafore called for only one costume. I was obsessive about keeping mine spotlessly clean and ironed. My competitive side emerged of course, and I was determined to have the most prominent bustle (bottom) on stage. I re-sprayed my petticoat with starch between every show! My Fair Lady was an experience never to be forgotten. I was so sad to say goodbye to my Ascot gown, enormous hat and lacy parasol (all I have remaining are my white gloves, white tights and black, shiny shoes that I had to balance in so precariously - front and centre every night).
I love it when my theatrical side has the opportunity to pop out every so often. I will be on the lookout for opportunities. So 'stand back world' and 'hold your hats'! 'Before the parade passes by' you will see me 'stepping out', 'looking lively', 'trimming my tails', 'marching my band out' and 'all that jazz!' You should let your theatrical side out and invent opportunities to dress up too. It is so much fun!!
Friday, 4 January 2013
Les Miserables
I haven't been to see Les Mis yet. I cried my way through a production on my first trip to London, then scampered out as fast as I could through the curtain calls, frantically searching for a tube station that would take me to (is it Liverpool Street Station, I've forgotten now?) so that I could take the last (11pm) train to Stanstead. Jumped on the train with less than 5 minutes to spare. Who knows what would have happened had I missed it. Attempted to stay up, but ended up curled up in a corner fast asleep on the freezing cold floor in the early hours of the morning, my head resting on my backpack.
Bert and I celebrated our birthdays a couple of years later by eating pizza in a Leicester Square restaurant, then crying our way through another production. I can't remember whether I saw one or two productions in Toowoomba over the years and I also read the book (I have to admit I skimmed through some of the boring bits).
The reason I haven't seen the movie yet is that I'm not sure that I can handle such an intense emotional experience at this point in my life. Movies expose the realness of life more intensely than stage productions, and this story is very real. I've also heard that some of the singing is less than adequate and I know this would iritate me somewhat.
You see, before Susan Boyle and Anne Hathaway there was me. Seventeen years old, just started singing lessons and singing at the Empire Theatre for the first time. Unfortunately my greatness was not recognized. Another Fantine came third. But there I was, dressed in my own interpretation of Fantine, which I felt to be emotionally evocative even though it was historically inaccurate. I remembered feeling stupid because I asked the accompanist whether I'd be able to hear the piano on stage (silly question, but due to nerves), then I wandered on in an ugly brown dress with bare feet and free flowing hair.
The lights were off so I couldn't see the audience but I knew my parents, sisters and three best friends were there. The spotlights on the sides of the stage were shining in my eyes. Incredible. I count this as one of the top 5 most impactful moments of my life. Nothing could stop me from wanting to perform from then on.
Other performances have been better, but this will live in my memory. Fantines will come and go, but I will always remember a time when 'I was young and unafraid, when dreams were made and used and wasted, there was no ransom to be paid, no song unsung, no wine untasted'. I'm sure I'll see the movie one day, when I finally make up my mind.
Bert and I celebrated our birthdays a couple of years later by eating pizza in a Leicester Square restaurant, then crying our way through another production. I can't remember whether I saw one or two productions in Toowoomba over the years and I also read the book (I have to admit I skimmed through some of the boring bits).
The reason I haven't seen the movie yet is that I'm not sure that I can handle such an intense emotional experience at this point in my life. Movies expose the realness of life more intensely than stage productions, and this story is very real. I've also heard that some of the singing is less than adequate and I know this would iritate me somewhat.
You see, before Susan Boyle and Anne Hathaway there was me. Seventeen years old, just started singing lessons and singing at the Empire Theatre for the first time. Unfortunately my greatness was not recognized. Another Fantine came third. But there I was, dressed in my own interpretation of Fantine, which I felt to be emotionally evocative even though it was historically inaccurate. I remembered feeling stupid because I asked the accompanist whether I'd be able to hear the piano on stage (silly question, but due to nerves), then I wandered on in an ugly brown dress with bare feet and free flowing hair.
The lights were off so I couldn't see the audience but I knew my parents, sisters and three best friends were there. The spotlights on the sides of the stage were shining in my eyes. Incredible. I count this as one of the top 5 most impactful moments of my life. Nothing could stop me from wanting to perform from then on.
Other performances have been better, but this will live in my memory. Fantines will come and go, but I will always remember a time when 'I was young and unafraid, when dreams were made and used and wasted, there was no ransom to be paid, no song unsung, no wine untasted'. I'm sure I'll see the movie one day, when I finally make up my mind.
New Years Eve
This is the first time I haven't thought of New Years Eve as being one of the most depressing days of the year. From now on I'm going to put more effort into making New Years Eve memorable. It's no time to be alone with no plans for the evening, reflecting on another year gone and little accomplished.
Thanks to some lovely friends I celebrated this New Years Eve in style, the BrisVegas way. After a really gorgeous shower in the hotel we drank rose and dressed up in our little black dresses (mine brand new), put on our make-up and heels and headed to the Hilton. We enjoyed a delicious dinner from the New Years Eve set menu, toasting the new year with French champagne and revelling in the elegant service.
When we went outside the mall was alive with party-goers of all types, dressed up and down. There was lots of live music on the streets. We strolled over the bridge to Southbank enjoying the pleasant temperature and the people watching. We sat on the grass and tried not to yawn (not used to these late nights).
On the stroke of midnight we were back on the bridge surrounded by crowds and were treated to a magnificent fireworks display. The walk back to the mall was trecherous, up close and personal with a moving sea of bodies, stepping over a pool of vomit as we went. A decadently comfy bed, another gorgeous shower, a buffet breakfast in the hotel and a fun movie in the Myer Centre (Pitch Perfect) topped off my New Years celebrations.
Checked-in at the airport and was assured that I had booked two flights back to Melbourne, both for myself. This caused a lot of confusion and a long check-in process. I was very surprised that I could have paid for two flights without noticing as I'm not that rich. Fortunately I was spared the inconvenience of having to sort this out, as my bank statements showed no sign of this having occurred.
The trip back to Melbourne was relaxing and I'm feeling positive about the new year.
Happy New Year everyone!
Thanks to some lovely friends I celebrated this New Years Eve in style, the BrisVegas way. After a really gorgeous shower in the hotel we drank rose and dressed up in our little black dresses (mine brand new), put on our make-up and heels and headed to the Hilton. We enjoyed a delicious dinner from the New Years Eve set menu, toasting the new year with French champagne and revelling in the elegant service.
When we went outside the mall was alive with party-goers of all types, dressed up and down. There was lots of live music on the streets. We strolled over the bridge to Southbank enjoying the pleasant temperature and the people watching. We sat on the grass and tried not to yawn (not used to these late nights).
On the stroke of midnight we were back on the bridge surrounded by crowds and were treated to a magnificent fireworks display. The walk back to the mall was trecherous, up close and personal with a moving sea of bodies, stepping over a pool of vomit as we went. A decadently comfy bed, another gorgeous shower, a buffet breakfast in the hotel and a fun movie in the Myer Centre (Pitch Perfect) topped off my New Years celebrations.
Checked-in at the airport and was assured that I had booked two flights back to Melbourne, both for myself. This caused a lot of confusion and a long check-in process. I was very surprised that I could have paid for two flights without noticing as I'm not that rich. Fortunately I was spared the inconvenience of having to sort this out, as my bank statements showed no sign of this having occurred.
The trip back to Melbourne was relaxing and I'm feeling positive about the new year.
Happy New Year everyone!
Saturday, 8 December 2012
Trench coats and cardigans
I bought my first trench coat at Jacqui E. It cost more than I'd probably ever spent on an item of clothing at the time. The first time I wore it was the first night of the Toowoomba Eisteddfod 2008, Music Theatre night. It was perfect for covering up my Yentl costume, a long, brown dress with a white, tie-on collar that my Mum made for me (I'm so lucky to have a Mum who was happy to continue to make my ballet and singing costumes up until the age of 28). I took off my black trench coat and knelt on the stage, holding a white tablecloth above my head.
"God, our heavenly Father,
I'm wrapped in a robe of light,
Clothed in your glory,
That spreads its wings over my soul,
May I be worthy"
I said with deep solemnity and devout resolution, my eyes looking skyward.
Good memories, for me at least. Not sure about the audience. I still wear this trench coat.
I followed this up with a red trench coat when I moved to Melbourne and finally had enough money to buy it. Felt fabulous wearing it with red shoes. The next one is one of my favourite things. I have worn my grey, checked jacket to death. It never gets dirty and it never creases. The other day I found some stitching coming undone, a tragedy. Now I also have a special one just for going to the theatre. It's a little bit shiny with a collar that curves around the back of my neck, framing my face. This one is the prettiest one. It's beautiful.
Despite my love of trench coats, I have become famous at work for another item of clothing, the cardigan. People talk about my cardigans. Someone said the other day that I wear a cardigan every single day. It's probably true too. I have long-sleeved, short-sleeved and medium-sleeved cardigans. I have pink, purple, blue, green, and navy cardigans. I probably have all these cardigans in more than one shade. When I had my birthday this year my coworkers in the two babies' rooms bought me a cardigan. This was an extra special one because they were the first to notice my cardigan fixation.
I've flirted with hoodies, blazers and bunchy jumpers but they're not quite me. If you see me in one of these items however, give me a high-5. It's time I broadened my horizons. The actual truth is that when it comes to clothes I'm a creature of habit. Expect to see more trench coats and more cardigans. There will always be more of these classic items to catch my eye. Also, the great thing about cardigans is, when I'm a little, old lady rocking in her chair, cardigans will still be perfectly me and absolutely right.
"God, our heavenly Father,
I'm wrapped in a robe of light,
Clothed in your glory,
That spreads its wings over my soul,
May I be worthy"
I said with deep solemnity and devout resolution, my eyes looking skyward.
Good memories, for me at least. Not sure about the audience. I still wear this trench coat.
I followed this up with a red trench coat when I moved to Melbourne and finally had enough money to buy it. Felt fabulous wearing it with red shoes. The next one is one of my favourite things. I have worn my grey, checked jacket to death. It never gets dirty and it never creases. The other day I found some stitching coming undone, a tragedy. Now I also have a special one just for going to the theatre. It's a little bit shiny with a collar that curves around the back of my neck, framing my face. This one is the prettiest one. It's beautiful.
Despite my love of trench coats, I have become famous at work for another item of clothing, the cardigan. People talk about my cardigans. Someone said the other day that I wear a cardigan every single day. It's probably true too. I have long-sleeved, short-sleeved and medium-sleeved cardigans. I have pink, purple, blue, green, and navy cardigans. I probably have all these cardigans in more than one shade. When I had my birthday this year my coworkers in the two babies' rooms bought me a cardigan. This was an extra special one because they were the first to notice my cardigan fixation.
I've flirted with hoodies, blazers and bunchy jumpers but they're not quite me. If you see me in one of these items however, give me a high-5. It's time I broadened my horizons. The actual truth is that when it comes to clothes I'm a creature of habit. Expect to see more trench coats and more cardigans. There will always be more of these classic items to catch my eye. Also, the great thing about cardigans is, when I'm a little, old lady rocking in her chair, cardigans will still be perfectly me and absolutely right.
Monday, 3 December 2012
Go to Specsavers
A few weeks ago I bit the bullet. I went to Specsavers. My contact lenses have started to irritate my eyes because of driness. This is due to old age, the optometrist informed me. Everything gets drier as you get older. Fantastic :( Only problem is I hate glasses and wasn't planning to ever have to wear them out of the house.
When I was 12 I discovered I'd inherited my Mum's bad eyesight. Getting glasses is kind of exciting at that age, especially when you only need them to see the blackboard. I went off to high school with a little, round, maroon pair in my pencil case. By the time I was 15 I realized that people were looking at me and I couldn't see their expressions. I didn't know if they were smiling, or laughing, or frowning or talking to me. This can cause some embarrassment. At the same time my sister Miriam and I were planning a trip to attend a Summer camp in America. How often do a 14 year old and a 15 year old head off to Oklahoma by themselves, via Sydney, LA, and Dallas Texas? I decided then and there that it would be better to look bad then to miss the sights. I wore my glasses full-time from then on.
By then I had a new pair, gold. Gold! Really? I never wear gold now. It makes my skin look yellow. Really glasses were the last thing I needed at that age. I was overweight, with bad posture, bouffy hair and pimples. No I'm not overexaggerating, I'm probably underexaggerating. Fortunately it didn't matter what I looked like because nobody noticed me anyway. At least I could see. I wore these for a year and a half. I remember sleepovers when my best friend would say, "take off those horrible glasses!" (By the way for some reason she's become much nicer to me now - heehee, you know who you are).
When I was nearly 17 I got contact lenses. Really hard to get used to but when I did they were fantastic and I could wear them every day for hours a day until now. I could go swimming and still see and I could walk in the rain and still see. It was so great. (I opened the dishwasher at work the other day while wearing my new glasses and foof - I couldn't see a thing!).
I had a couple of other pairs during these years for wearing when I got up in the morning and for just in case. My latest pair were black metal, smallish and oval-shaped. My Grandma informed me that she didn't like them at all and I must get new ones as soon as possible. I had to wear them to work all of a sudden and caused quite a sensation. The first person who saw me laughed, but I felt better when someone else told me I looked like the ladies in the Specsavers ads. I still didn't like them, but kept putting off the task of buying new ones because it is just too hard.
When I went to Specsavers to fit my new glasses they felt crooked. All the glasses and sunglasses I've ever had have felt crooked. I said to the lady, "all the glasses I've ever had have felt crooked. I think I'm crooked". "Let me see," she said. "Oh yes, one of your ears is higher than the other". Great, I'm a freak!
So now I wear them sometimes and apparently I look smart. I was told at work the other day that I should wear them to uni because I might get better marks. I replied that it was not necessary because my marks are already as good as they can be. I read somewhere the other day that men like women who wear glasses. They are mysterious and sexy. Haha. Maybe I should wear them more often. When it comes to attracting a man I can do with all the help I can get!
When I was 12 I discovered I'd inherited my Mum's bad eyesight. Getting glasses is kind of exciting at that age, especially when you only need them to see the blackboard. I went off to high school with a little, round, maroon pair in my pencil case. By the time I was 15 I realized that people were looking at me and I couldn't see their expressions. I didn't know if they were smiling, or laughing, or frowning or talking to me. This can cause some embarrassment. At the same time my sister Miriam and I were planning a trip to attend a Summer camp in America. How often do a 14 year old and a 15 year old head off to Oklahoma by themselves, via Sydney, LA, and Dallas Texas? I decided then and there that it would be better to look bad then to miss the sights. I wore my glasses full-time from then on.
By then I had a new pair, gold. Gold! Really? I never wear gold now. It makes my skin look yellow. Really glasses were the last thing I needed at that age. I was overweight, with bad posture, bouffy hair and pimples. No I'm not overexaggerating, I'm probably underexaggerating. Fortunately it didn't matter what I looked like because nobody noticed me anyway. At least I could see. I wore these for a year and a half. I remember sleepovers when my best friend would say, "take off those horrible glasses!" (By the way for some reason she's become much nicer to me now - heehee, you know who you are).
When I was nearly 17 I got contact lenses. Really hard to get used to but when I did they were fantastic and I could wear them every day for hours a day until now. I could go swimming and still see and I could walk in the rain and still see. It was so great. (I opened the dishwasher at work the other day while wearing my new glasses and foof - I couldn't see a thing!).
I had a couple of other pairs during these years for wearing when I got up in the morning and for just in case. My latest pair were black metal, smallish and oval-shaped. My Grandma informed me that she didn't like them at all and I must get new ones as soon as possible. I had to wear them to work all of a sudden and caused quite a sensation. The first person who saw me laughed, but I felt better when someone else told me I looked like the ladies in the Specsavers ads. I still didn't like them, but kept putting off the task of buying new ones because it is just too hard.
When I went to Specsavers to fit my new glasses they felt crooked. All the glasses and sunglasses I've ever had have felt crooked. I said to the lady, "all the glasses I've ever had have felt crooked. I think I'm crooked". "Let me see," she said. "Oh yes, one of your ears is higher than the other". Great, I'm a freak!
So now I wear them sometimes and apparently I look smart. I was told at work the other day that I should wear them to uni because I might get better marks. I replied that it was not necessary because my marks are already as good as they can be. I read somewhere the other day that men like women who wear glasses. They are mysterious and sexy. Haha. Maybe I should wear them more often. When it comes to attracting a man I can do with all the help I can get!
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