Sometimes I'd like to Smack Someone Across the Face with A Wet Flounder

I just had to mention that my great friend & colleague, Trixie & I (or is it, Trixie & Me?) went to see 'Julie & Julia'. Odd as it may seem to some of my North American Readers, I really didn't know who Julia Child was. I knew that she wrote cook books, but she didn't really permeate the Australian Cultural Membrane during her lifetime. If she had, I certainly would have known her.

I'm sure the Prozac is Promoting Grandiosity. Or maybe insensitivity. Or perhaps Reality. But I digress.

One of the things that totally fascinated me was how the hell was five foot six inched Meryl Streep going to manage being six foot two. Would she be on Subtle Stilts that you didn't really notice, I wondered. Every time she came on the screen, I frantically checked to see how much taller she was than her cute little hubby. And everything else around her. By the end of the film, I was exhausted. And yes, Meryl generally Did look bigger & taller than everyone & everything else. What an Achievement!

The other Companion Story of the contemporary blogger was only partially satisfying to me, although I'm now fearful that I'm starting to sound like a Pompous Film Reviewer. But what the hell, why hold back?

1. I didn't think that there was any real tension between Julie, the blogger & her Milquetoasted Hubby, who I absolutely loathed partly because every time he shovelled all the rich french food that his wife made in to his big gob, I thought I was going to throw up. Honestly it was disgusting.

2. I do soo love writing in Numbered Points.

3. After I saw the film, I raced home to uTube & watched some clips of Julia in her heyday in her kitchen. I saw her make an omelette & gained some useful tips about using a non-stick pan & also how to move the omelette around the pan so it comes out all scrunched up. I was surprised as I thought I knew everything.

Obviously not.

4. I thought that Meryl slightly overplayed Julia. Like she thought that Julia was really something out of Dr Seuss or maybe a Kinder Gentler Roald Dahl Grown Up character. Like the other side of Miss Trunchbull in 'Matilda'.

5. The sight of the food made me sick. I never want to go near any of Julia's recipes particularly the Poor Duck swathed in Pastry.

But I really enjoyed 'Julia & Julia' immensely & just loved the fact that it didn't make me cry . I really don't like crying in movies. Life can be sad enough.

A Real Not Toy Python

As Oafey Australian Footballers say when their stupid team wins, 'I'm Dead-Set Ecstatic!'

I would Totally Love to say that the reason is because I just Love Life, but sadly, that's Not the Case.

The reason has got to do with Marc Jacobs.

Remember a couple of weeks ago when I missed out on that Real Not Toy Marc Jacobs handbag at 'Bednobs Etc'?

I have been in total mourning ever since even though I'm trying to do a crash course in Zen Buddhism & not give a rat's arse about The Material World.

But in a wonderful act of Kindness & Generosity, Peter, the owner of my absolute favourite cafe in the whole entire world, 'Zinc', came back from a two week stay in NYC this week & presented me with a divine Python Purse & Two Bangles that he bought in the Marc Jacobs accessory shop in Bleeker Street in NYC.

Apparently, the shop is super popular & when Peter & his partner Nigel came across it on a saturday morning a large, snake-like queue had formed down the street.

I can't imagine Peter queuing for anything, but he is persistent. So, he went back on monday morning & managed to get into the shop before the queue started.

I'm soo glad that he did. Almost, but not quite the best bit of the purse is the inside with 'Jacobs by Marc Jacobs Ad Nauseum' printed on the leather. I didn't realise that Fashion Designers have a sense of humour, except perhaps for Little Karl Lagerfeld who says stuff like, 'I don't have any human emotions'.

The Zebra Decoded

Even though tonight's my night for watching Reality Fashion shows, I'm still compelled to blog. Its because I'm desperate to keep the Zebra Momentum going.

But first, let me v. briefly walk you through 'My Shows'.

1. The Rachel Zoe Project. Even though technically Rachel was on last night, she's part of my Roll Call of Reality Fashion Shows. Of course, I consider myself to be the Real Reality Fashion Show. But perhaps I'm becoming Slightly Grandiose. Maybe it's the Prozac.

Anyway, last night Rachel got upset about nasty things that the press was saying about her. Like she's too thin & she had a dummy spit at some pre-Oscar party. All of her underlings,

including her hubbie told her to Get Over It.

I personally have Never Gotten Over Anything in My Life.

2. The Fashion Show. Each week, Isaac Mizrahi chucks some poor fashion designer off the show while calling them 'Darling'.

'Angel, we're just not buying it. Bye-bye Darling'.

3. Tabitha's Salon Takeover. I love this show because Tabitha Coffey is Australian & she's in LA. She's one of those Hard As Nails, Have a Reality Sandwich type hairdressers who goes into Dirty & Dysfunctional Salons & tells everyone who works there to take the styling gel out of their arse & get on with it. There's the usual Reality show Tears'N'Dummy Spit before everyone hugs at the end.

Back to me.

1. Please note that I am wearing yet another Zebra Necklace. It's really a Disabled Zebra because it doesn't have any legs or hooves.

And I was so thrilled to read Zizzi's & Darla's comments this morning about the Symbolism of the zebra. Please read them if you haven't already. Of course, I couldn't think past the notion of camouflage, but they mentioned Uniqueness because no two zebra stripes are alike just like snowflakes.

Thank you!

2. I've begun a series of eight beauty treatments that I had initially agreed with my anonymous friend to keep quiet about but I've now decided not to. I had my first one today. It felt like a Near-Death Experience because I was subjected to an incredibly bright LED (whatever that is) light for many many minutes. All that was missing was My Dead Parents & Animals waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.

I can't remember what the treatment's called. Maybe Omnilux. I fell for it because a woman I know from 'Zinc', my local cafe, who had it, suddenly looks all plumped up & fresh faced when she usually looks like an Old Washer Woman. And the other drawcard was that it was apparently developed by NASA. That always impresses me.

Weren't they the people who invented Glad Wrap? And where would we be without that?

Camouflage Perhaps?

Being an English teacher, I'm always looking for Symbols & Signs. And maybe excuses to put two words starting with the letter 'S' side-by-side.

Since I'm currently teaching the poetry of Australian Dead Poet, Gwen Harwood, I'm extra-specially interested in the Two S's.

And what seems Slightly Curious to me, is the Recurring Motif in my outfits slash life of The Zebra.

Those of you who know My Wardrobe intimately, will recall that it contains a number of Zebra references . I do hope that I am making sense as I have just this late afternoon had my eyebrows waxed & tinted which I religiously do every three weeks & I fear that perhaps some of the hot wax has infiltrated my Frontal Lobe & affected my ability to blog.

Anyway.........

I have a strange wooden zebra necklace & a wonderful Zebra pin that Darla sent me a little while back that I treasure & now I have this:

It's another Zebra Necklace, although you would never know it because I have a scarf wound tightly around my turkey neck which I say lovingly & Not Nastily. Those of you who either live in the Southern Hemisphere or understand the Seasons in that part of the world will think it Rather Strange that I, in late October appear to be dressed for Mid-Winter when it should by Rites Be Spring. Of course those of you who actually live where I live will Totally Understand.

Even though it's supposed to be getting dangerously hotter by the minute, it isn't right now in Sydney. In fact, we've slid back to perhaps late June slash early July. I must say I quite like the challenge of getting up every morning & putting on extra layers that I might have to peel off later in the day in case the Mercury Mounts.

I don't think Zebras thrive in a Cold Climate. And I also think that they aren't associated with Snow. I know v. little about The Natural World, a fact that was driven home to me yesterday when I was teaching a poem concerning the death by gunshot of a barn owl by the poet when she was a child. When attempting to draw An Owl on the whiteboard, my all-knowing class informed me that there were over two hundred types of owl. I thought that there was only one, The Wise Owl.

Anyway, what I'm wanting to know is, what does The Zebra symbolise? Camouflage perhaps?

Grooming to Rival The Duchess of Windsor's

Don't think that I'm copying Advanced Style. Or is it, Advance Style?

See, I don't even know the proper name of the Thingy Bloggy..... whatever it is.

So, I can't be copying.

Do look at Joy above. I caught her on the hop on friday morning on my way to school. Joy was also going to school. But she wasn't going to do a paid thing like me, but to Volunteer.

For many years now, Joy volunteers to be what's known in the Teaching Trade as a 'ReaderSlashWriter' or 'Reader/Writer'.

Let me explain in as few words as possible. Where I live in Australia, we have a Nasty Set of Exams at the end of a student's schooling called the Higher School Certificate which decides whether or not you get into a course at university or indeed if you get to go to university at all. Many students who sit for these exams consider themselves to have 'Special Needs'. Their parents & Paid Professionals also think that they have 'Special Needs'.

I personally think that everyone in the world has 'Special Needs'. But that's just Me.

In the world of the Higher School Certificate, there are many many categories of 'Special Needs'. You may have a specific learning difficulty or your hands may simply shake in the exam room. Or, you may know it in you head, but for some damn reason, it doesn't come out your arm/hands & on to the exam paper.

So, what do these poor 'Special Needs' students get?

Yes, that's right! They get Joy.

Joy sits with an assigned 'Special Needs' student & reads the exam paper to them & then the student dictates her answer to Joy who writes it down for her. The student doesn't have to touch the exam paper.

I don't know how she does it. I certainly wouldn't be able to do it because I wouldn't be able to listen long enough to write down any answers.

Anyway, Joy always looks completely fabulous even when she is on her way to spend two hours sitting next to some sweaty student. Everything always matches perfectly & her grooming is up there with The Duchess of Windsor's.

She's wearing a George Gross suit that has a little touch of pale green in it, I think. And she's wearing a diamond bee that her still-practicing dentist husband Bruce gave her for some well-deserved anniversary.

Brava Joy!

The Magic Medal

the Magic Medal
Originally uploaded by middleagedteacher

See, even more pictures of me wearing cuffs.
If you look closely, you can see that this is a different cuff from the ones in the other photos.
Hurrah.
Also, have a gander at my necklaces. All homemade. I like to call the large one which is a watch on a shell that I got from a two dollar shop, 'The Magic Medal'. When I was a child, my grandmother whose name was Eleanor & was born in 1891 used to tell me these wonderful stories about a pair of identical twins called Pinky & Bluey who had a magic medal. When they rubbed the medal, which now sounds rather gross, but didn't at the time, the little girls would instantly transform into Stylish Young Ladies called Prunella & Sue who would spend their time attending fashionable race meetings like the Melbourne Cup & getting tips from famous jockeys.

Midas

Midas
Originally uploaded by middleagedteacher

See, more Cuff Wearing.
I just can't help myself. I'm obsessed.
See how perfectly they go with the cute little Mask of Midas that Bree, one of my Little Year 7s made?
I am a simpleton when it comes to Myths/Legends/heroes/etc & really clever when it comes to TV shows of the sixties like 'The Beverly Hilbillies' & 'Bewitched'. I can even go back as far as George Reeves in 'Superman'. But start talking about Apollo or Demeter or whoever & I"m lost.
The only one I know anything about is Narcissus because I lived with him for fourteen years.
Anyway, that's a different story.
So, I'm kind of perplexed as to how come Midas has got donkey's ears. I get the gold bit, though.

Channelling Chicken

It's Friday night. I've just shovelled in some Lamb Chops. I do so love a Tasty Chop. But I'm not sure how much longer I can continue to do so. Even as I'm hungrily gnawing away at them, I feel guilty. Poor little wooly things.

And sadly, I'm starting to feel the same way about eating chicken. Even though at the supermarket I always perform an act of Absolution by purchasing a Free Range Chicken.

Look at my Unconscious Chicken Impersonation in the photo, above. It was taken Mid Wing-Flap at last sunday night's dinner at my house.

I was really trying to showcase my Cuffs which I've Suddenly Embraced with Vim & Gusto .

One of the wonderful advantages of The Cuff is that unlike bracelets or bangles, they don't jangle. Also, they can really add a Certain Raciness to an outfit by slightly referencing Bondage or bikie gangs or even perhaps Suzi Quattro who really isn't too racy any more judging by what she looked like on a recent trip to Sydney.

Anyway, I love the two cuffs per wrist that I'm wearing as a chicken. I bought them at 'Diva', for five bucks each on sale. Every friday after school I make a pilgrimage to 'Diva' just before attending the 4.30pm Body Balance class at the 'Fitness First' gym at Bondi Westfield Mall. I now sound as if I've moved into Product Placement. You know, like I'm being paid to mention this stuff.

If only.

.

Please Please Be Real.

Toy Graffitti Louis
Originally uploaded by middleagedteacher

Look at me.
Don't think that for a moment that I'm looking Smug.
Anything But.
My slightly Cat the Swallowed the Canary expression is masking enormous pain. But before I tell the source of it, let me just briefly mention that 'the cat that swallowed the canary' expression was one of my parent's favourites. I remember when I was in Year 9, a v. unfortunate looking boy arrived at our house to escort me to his School Formal. Poor boy had tiny little piggy eyes & perhaps some acne marks, or were they just pimples? He was also quite short with a hair cut a little like Rod Stewart's in 1968. Or maybe he was preempting Billy Ray Cyrus's Mullet by a couple of decades. I can't be Exactly Sure.
Anyway, Poor Boy walked in the door in a rented nylon suit & a shiny face & beamed at my parents who were as usual casually sipping their whisky & sodas. It was the first time that anybody had actually called to pick me up, so I guess it was my first date. And I already thought , 'How has it come to this?'
Later, my father said that the boy looked like the Cat that Swallowed the Canary after he saw me in my Shiny silver A-line lurex dress, sparkly white tights & black patent little heels.

Back to My Current Pain.
After breakfast on the day of the photo, I trotted as usual down to 'Bednobs Etc', my favourite thrift store. When I walked in, I saw a woman holding a black quilted with the large gold chain Mark Jacobs bag. I watched her take it to the counter & get twenty bucks out.
'Ooo......that's a really good fake', I chirp, sidling towards the counter. My hands reach out to touch it. I couldn't help but open the Golden clasp & peer inside. Beautiful maroon, or was it light pink, suede lining?
It was Real.
I nearly Wet My Pants.
I raced to the rotting basket where they keep the handbags, hoping against hope that the person who donated the Mark Jacobs might have decided to throw out her Chanel .255 Quilted as well.
I picked up the little Stephen Sprouse Graffiti Bag that you see in the photo. Could this be real? Please Please be Real.
Sadly, there was a man in the shop who used to work for Australian Customs. He knew all about how to tell if something is fake. Apparently the Big Giveaway is Double Stitching. Real bags have only single stitching. Stephen Sprouse had Double Stitching.
Mitch, the kindly 'Bednobs Etc' assistant felt sorry for me & took a dollar off the bag. I couldn't say No.

As soon as I woke up the next day, I thought about The Real Mark Jacobs Bag. I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I thought about Madonna. Guy Ritchie, her ex-husband said recently that she was, 'the best Manifester in the world maybe'. I bet Madonna could have 'Manifested' the bag if she went into 'Bednobs'. Why can't I?

Back to the Zen Handbook.

A Tail of Karl Lagerfeld

Look closely at these startling pics of Elfin Karl Lagerfeld that I purloined from The Huffington Post.

When I say Look Closely, I mean it. In fact, why don't you enlarge the images? I almost promise you that it will be worth it.

Do you see it?

In case you didn't, I'll tell you.

Knome Karl is Wearing a Rug. That Ponytail of his not only Looks Like a Rat's Tail, but it might Really be One.

I have made a Lifetime study of Rugs & I'm rarely, if ever Wrong in the Rug Wearing Department. You can see little wisps of his own hair at the front & then you can see a V. Definite Line where the Rug starts.

I was shocked. Which is hardly unusual as I'm easily shocked. And frightened. Etc.

But we won't go down that road, will we?

It's far more titillating to talk about Karl's Rug. As soon as I discovered it, I excitedly scoured the internet looking for any mention of it.

Absolutely Nothing.

I would be sooo excited if I was the First to Publicly Notice Karl's Rug.

Oh for it to be Me who Outed his Toy Hair!

Sadly, I don't think Karl's taken Rug Wearing Far Enough.

Don't you think he'd look far better if he wore one of those huge eighteenth century wigs that King Louis 14 or whatever number it was wore?

Not Having to Worry About Wearing a Detachable Train

Big Wrist Treatment
Originally uploaded by middleagedteacher

I've just posted a number of Holiday Outfits on my flickr photostream. It was about time too as I've been neglecting it lately.
That's the trouble with an Online Life. You have to keep on Updating It. Thank God my Offline Life just automatically updates itself.
While I was uploading & writing my comments, I multi-tasked by watching 'The Rachel Zoe Project'.
What a show.
I'd like to give you a Blow-by-Blow description of what Rachel, her hubby Rodger & her assistants Taylor & Brad got up to, but I'll resist the urge. But I will allow myself to say that every time I watch it which is Not Often, I feel myself sucked into a Big Black Wardrobe Vortex.
What a relief that don't have to worry about whether or not to wear the Detachable Train that Georgio Armani thoughtfully included in My Oscar Gown.
My major worry in this Entirely Thrifted Outfit is whether or not I've Overdone the Wristbands. I'm wearing two on each wrist. And I just realised that I may be moving into Bondage Territory. Quelle Horreur!

The Zen of Handbags

It's Sunday Evening. No one is coming for dinner. Except me.

Sick of eating Tuna Salads, I trotted down to the supermarche & purchased a v. small Free range chicken which is now roasting in the oven.

I absolutely can't wait as I've stuffed it with My Usual Stuffing. Crumbs, pine nuts, lemon thyme, onion & bacon. I'm even allowing myself some Roasted White Carbs!

So this is going to be concise & absolutely to the point.

Look Above.

I'm lunching at my new favourite cafe called 'Oliveto', only maybe it's spelt 'Uliveto'. As you can see, it's filled to the rafters with Fragrant Perpetual Bachelors! Except Me & Anna.

Anna is wearing an intriguing orange scarf which adds loads of pizzaz to her outfit!

How's that for Breezily Concise & to the Point?

I'm holding what looks like something perhaps a Cardinal might use to put his important Papal Papers in.

Actually it's a Vivienne Westwood Bag. And it's Real. Not Fake.

I've spent a Long Long Time thinking about Handbags. It's an excellent think to think about. Almost, but not quite Zen.

I thought I wanted a Chanel Quilted. I scoured eBay. Someone gave me a fake one that was metallicy red. I didn't like it much because it started chipping. When the Chanel shop opened at Bondi Westfield I even went inside but I was too scared to ask the price. I sort of knew anyway. Like about three grand.

And then I realised that there's a Complete Explosion of Chanel Bags Everywhere. Or bags that look like Chanel Bags.

Try this little experiment when next you venture outside. Not in some remote area. But somewhere where there are Proper Shops.

Look closely at women's handbags. I bet you that at least seven out of ten bags that women are schlepping areound are Chanel or Chanel Lookalikes.

I saw my Vivienne Westwood Cardinal's Handbag in a local shop window. The shop, 'Pour Tous' was shut. It remained shut for two days. During that time, I visited the shop at least fifteen times. I thought that it was never going to open again, which is typical of me.

Eventually it did. By this stage I was quivering. Talk about the effects of Delayed Gratification.

Anyway, I do love it even though I have to wear it slung across my arm as if I've been to Deportment School. And the Fab Vivienne Westwood logo is only on one side of the bag. Should I always position the logo at the front so everyone can see it, or is that a bit pretentious & wanky, I wondered?

I saw a bumper sticker this afternoon that said 'Make Love Not More' which I thought was a v. clever commentary on consumerism. I felt slightly guilty about The Bag. But then I realised that the sticker was about Over-Population which is something that I absolutely Can't Feel Bad about.

Off to eat a Chicken .

More On God & Me

You may recall in my last entry I mentioned the above book.

I have never read it but I'm sure many many young girls & perhaps even Grown women & The Occasional Man have done so.

It's not uncommon for me to Speak Knowledgeably about books I've never read. In fact, I've taught many books that I haven't read. And I've never ever knowingly read a book that's won the Booker Prize.

Until now. This afternoon, I trudged down to the bookshop & bought yesterday's winner of the Booker. It's called 'Wolf Hall' by Hilary Mantel. Never heard of her or her book until today. It's a little too thick to comfortably read in the bath which is My Official Benchmark for Enjoyable Reading. So I'm not sure how I will go.

Perhaps I should tell you v. briefly about Me & Books. Or what I've been reading lately. I've just finished 'The Suspicions of Mr Wincher', by Kate Summerscale. It's a recent book about a v. famous real life murder case in Victorian England, in the early years of detecting & Scotland Yard. I thought it was v. interesting & intriguing but slightly made me gag in parts because it's about this Hugely Gruesome Syphilitic Family. A resentful teenaged daughter slits the throat of her baby brother & then throws him into the Servants' cesspool, hoping that if he didn't die from his wounds he'd drown in the excrement. It was fascinating & full of great detail about Victorian Life, but didn't do much for my mood in spite of the Prozac.

And before that I read the last Harry Potter book.

I've always counted my reading & viewing of Dear Harry as a Guilty Pleasure. Rather like listening to Tina Arena singing 'Show Me Heaven' or Shakira belting out 'Underneath Your Clothes'. Or Bette Midler singing something to do with God & Wings. Can't remember.

Anyway, I just totally loved The Last Harry. My favourite character was Kreacher, the House Elf. My daughter Billie-Mae said that it was typical of me to favour an ugly little abandoned domestic elf left shivering in the kitchen instead of bothering to admire the much more worthy characters like Dumbledore etc.

Anyway, back to 'Are You There God?'

I loved the title so much that I had to create my own Homage in the artwork, below. I hope you like it. The figure is Lois Lane from 'Superman'. She came in a Happy Meal.

Rather Like Writing to God

Dear God,

I seem to remember that each chapter of Alice Walker's 'The Color Purple' began like that. I found it quite puzzling when I read it.

Why the hell would anyone start off every chapter of their Great Masterpiece with 'Dear God', I wondered.

Ever the Literalist, I thought perhaps that Alice was addressing her readers as 'God'.

She wasn't.

But writing a blog is Rather Like Writing to God. I won't bother to explain why, but I'm sure you understand. Which again reminds me of another book which mentions 'God' & isn't The Bible or a Book on Martyrs. It's a cheesy piece of fiction for twelve year olds called 'Hello God, It's Me, Margaret'. I can't remember the name of the author but I've seen it kicking around our school library for years. I'm sure no one's borrowed it since 1973. Every time I see it, I roar with laughter.

I've now thought of a famous Australian pop song from my childhood. 'Telephone to Jesus'. Even back then I thought it was Twee. What the hell would you say to Jesus if he called you up?

'How's it Hanging?' perhaps?

I must stop now before I disappear up my Own Twisted Existential A-Hole. Or derriere.

Speaking of Derrieres, look below at the Behind on the one week old puppy I'm carefully holding in the picture below. As you can see, I'm dressed in black & white so I'm Perfectly Themed with it & the whole washing basket of fur that visited me this week.

Bluebell, a dog slightly like the Border Collie in 'Babe,' is owned by my daughter's Dad, Gumby.

This is her second litter.

There is some discussion about the Puppies Paternity. It seems that its entirely possible that the father is Frog, a v. small pug owned by Nuddy, Gumby's sister.

It's a pairing that rather reminds me of what the offspring of Jackie Kennedy & Aristotle Onassis may have been like. Perhaps a Frog Princess. Or a Prince.

My daughter, Billie-Mae & I are Absolutely Not Frog Princesses. Here we are in the park across the road from my apartment.

We're standing in front of trees that are wearing Leg Warmers. In fact, almost every tree in the park is wearing them as part of a wonderful Guerilla Knitting Art Project. Every saturday for weeks diligent knitters have been labouring furiously with giant knitting needles in the park. I now feel Slightly Left Out because I didn't bother volunteering to be part of it. But I've got too many Knitting Wounds from Childhood. It took me years to learn & then everything I ever knitted ended up in the garbage. I just couldn't Cut the Knitting Mustard. As well as The Embroidery, Sewing, Crotcheting, Tennis, Basketball & Crossing the Road Unaided Mustards.

Here's Billie-Mae's little sister Freya. She is Adorable. But sadly, not my daughter.

Apparently the identical red hair is a Strange Coincidence. Not that I'm an expert on Genes or whatever they are. But Both parents have got to have the Red Gene. Which is rare.

I always knew that I was Special.

V. Prominent Sockettes

What better way to follow a Post of a whole load of wardrobe photos of Myself than another post of more wardrobe photos of myself?

Well only two photos.

The top outfit is entitled 'Mother of the Bride'. For all the obvious reasons. I've had the dress for about ten years. Maybe it's time to give it the flick.

The shoes are genuine YSL. I got them last year at 'Bednobs Etc' for twenty bucks. They are a little big so I stuffed them with tissues.

Perhaps the shoes don't look as good with the V. Prominent Sockettes more than peeping out of them. But I don't seem to be able to Abandon the Sockette. Every day my feet are incredibly drawn to putting them on. And I'm not sure why.

It's too soon to blame The Prozac.

I made the long pendant out of an old watch & a large shell that I got at a two dollar shop.

And here's yesterday's outfit. It's entitled 'Air Guitarist'. I know I'm Not Technically playing one, but I may as well be. Like so many strange things, this magnificent plastic blow up guitar just materialised in the Staffroom & I couldn't believe my luck.

Or is it synchronicity?

Can't you see that it's just Made for my Genuine Vintage dress that of course I got last week from 'Bednobs Etc' ?

And again, I'm wearing V. Prominent Black Sockettes. Which aren't my favourites. I favour the beige or flesh coloured ones in the first picture.

And now I'm on holidays for two weeks.

So it's back to English Teacher's Holiday Wardrobe Diary.

I hope you're getting excited.