Six Degrees of Della

You are in the middle of two photographs of Germaine Greer. The first one was featured in a groovy magazine called 'Pol' in Some Far Off Distant Decade. The second one was taken more recently.

Funnily enough, I'm not showing them to showcase the Ravages, or perhaps the Cruelty of Age. 

 The only reason why I feature anyone, famous  or otherwise on Della is to make some Link With Me. Just like I did a few days ago with Margaret Thatcher. 

Before I tell you my Link with Germaine, I must tell you how I feel about her.

Bad.

 I know that's  'Way Harsh' (I'm still teaching 'Clueless'), but she let me down terribly many years ago when, upon moving to The Mother Country, she immediately abandoned her Exciting Eclectic & Somewhat Raunchy Look in order to embrace Frump. 

It was an astonishing & almost immediate transformation, as if she thought, 'Right, now that  I've moved to England, I must  start dressing like The Queen'. Only it was The Queen after a Big Night & also without all the Glittery Bits. 

And how does all of this relate to Me, you might or might not ask?

Down below is Me Today. I'm wearing a v. cheap & a few years old houndstooth jacket from one of those dreadful Landfill Shops where you can buy an entire winter wardrobe for under a hundred bucks. Underneath is a wool thrifted 'Trent Nathan' dress that must be at least twenty years old because I had to rip the shoulder pads out before I wore it. I've tied a ten dollar Toy Pashmina that I bought at 'Cotton On' into a Pussy Bow which I think is v. clever of me. But then I'm wearing an Enormous Pair of Black Chandelier Earrings that have, by a Nasty Trick of Digital Photography completely disappeared. I swear that they were there though.

Anyway, Denny, a fellow teacher but not an English Teacher who shares our staffroom made a comment about my outfit today.

Denny is older than me, conservative, but well-dressed. She said, 'What has happened to you? You've become so conservative all of a sudden?  What happened to wearing one red stocking & one yellow one? You're wearing something that I might wear.' 

I was Mortified.

 'But what about the huge Chandelier earrings, Denny? You wouldn't wear those, would you?' I meekly inquired.

She didn't answer. Maybe the earrings were really invisible after all.

And then I started thinking about Germaine & her Overnight Change from Eclectic to Frump. Perhaps that's what has happened to Me. After all, I've often been told, 'What you resist, you get'. All these years of  disapproving of Germaine & I'm now suddenly turning into her. 

Quelle Horreur!

OMG Not Pig Flu!

Today, fresh from the Queen's Birthday Long Weekend, all anyone had to say  in the Staffroom was, 'OMG Pig Flu!'

Note the Pig in the Food Photo above, taken on Sunday evening at my weekly 'True Blood' dinner. How's that for tying everything neatly together? 

Staffroom/Pigs/Weekly Dinner/Pig Flu. And for once the text & the accompanying photo Almost, but not Quite, Match.

And the contents of the photo all neatly tie in together too: I put bacon in the Sad Little Shrunken Meatloaf featured in the foreground & everyone bought food in the same Bacon Tonings which sent Black & White, the poodles seen below, into a frenzy. They spent the entire night frantically pacing the ground underneath the dining table & sniffing like I imagine Specially Trained Gastronomique Dogs do when hunting Truffles.

By the way, I could never eat a Truffle because they are way too Rare & Expensive & the whole experience would be wasted because I would be thinking of the cost, not the taste.

Back to the Staffroom.

Today, Aunt Neddy had an Uncharacteristic Day Off which led people to start talking Pig Flu. And then, my neighbour in the staffroom, Libina, expressed concern that her daughter who is say, eleven, has got Pig Flu symptoms which sounded v. like Ordinary Flu Symptoms to me. And now I'm feeling a little choked up , or is it clogged up? 

I've just taken two 'Disprin' , a brand of aspirin fed to me constantly by my mother when I was a child which is now my v. favourite Drug of Choice. 

So here's hoping I don't have it.

Pity I Don't Go Off People That Hurt Me Like I Do With Shoes That Hurt Me.

The Sacred Venn Diagram
Originally uploaded by middleagedteacher

I know that this Blog Post is a little Out of Sync. But then again, so am I.
I've just posted the photo on flickr's wardrobe remix pool & I liked the little comment I wrote about it, so I thought I'd share it with Perhaps a Wider Audience. Presuming there is one .
I'm showing off my newly-thrifted 'Bruno Magli' shoes, which despite the fact that I wore little sockettes ,created a nasty little blister on my heel. Now I feel slightly turned off them which is how I always feel about shoes that hurt me. Pity I don't feel quite that way about People.

The Transformation of the Brussel Sprout

If you read my previous post you'd know that I'm spending at least part of The Queen's Birthday Long Weekend with my daughter Billie-Mae in Canberra.  If you didn't bother reading the previous post, now you know.

I do so enjoy my little visits. Part of why is because she now makes food for me which I find Luxurious Beyond Words.

For years & years & years while she was growing up I made food for her. This will come as no surprise to most people.  But let me tell you, it was Hard.  Apart from the fact that I am rather lazy, for a long time BM would eat only Foods that Were White - Cucumbers, Two-Minute Noodles (they tended to be Slightly Yellow), Pasta & loads of v. white sugar.

Now she is all grown up, Things Have Changed.  Not only is she a magnificent person, she is also a Magnificent Cook who can transform the Gastronomically Challenged Brussel Sprout into a mouth watering delicacy. I wonder if the B. Sprout originated in Belgium?

Have a look at them pertly sitting up in the baking dish alongside other  more tasty vegetables. In BM's deft hands, they were just as good. 

Onion Woman

I'm in Canberra, Our Nation's Capital, visiting my daughter, Billie-Mae & her partner Russell over our Long Weekend. 

You may wonder why we have a Long Weekend in June. It is because we still celebrate the Queen's Birthday even though we should be a Republic & it's not even Her birthday this weekend. As I type, I can hear the sound of Firecrackers going off in celebration. 

Anyway, I was thrilled to have some Time Off because I felt that if I had to stand in front of that Whiteboard for one more minute, I'd Explode.

Canberra does Winter much more than Sydney does, so I took the opportunity to kind of Rug Up. I'm wearing a thrifted coat with a Missing Button in a Prominent Place that I've spent quite some time thinking about which was slightly disturbing. Should I try & replace it with a different button, or just wear it anyway? 

You can guess what I ended up doing.

But I'm just dying to rip it off & expose a probably Way Too Young Tartan dress that I had just bought in The Mall at 'Cotton On', on sale for twenty dollars.

And here it is. A bit of an anti-climax really. Particularly as you can see more of My Toy Chanel Bag than you can of the Actual Dress. 

In fact, if you look closely you can see that I'm wearing three layers. Four, if you count my 'Always Dressed for Yoga' footless tights & black 'Bonds' singlet worn underneath.

Layer No. 2 is a British Dowager Dressed for Pruning Roses knitted Navy ensemble - a skirt & sweater which always is dying to be worn with a String of Pearls. 

Layer No 3 is the Slightly Too Young Tartan dress worn with a black pashmina & a fish pendant that was found at a garage sale in Thousand Oaks California.

Layer 4 - Coat with Prominent Missing Button.

So Call Me Onion Woman.

Reminder to Self: toss the Toy Chanel Bag. I've moved on.

I Never Want to Look Like an Old Iron Lady

One of my many Obsessions/Hobbies/Pastimes is Sleep.

Before I hit A Certain Age, I took sleep for granted. No big deal. Anybody could do it.

And I thought it was a Waste of Time as well.  Margaret Thatcher, pictured looking v. Self Satisfied above, famously trumpeted that she only needed four hours sleep a night. 

And doesn't she look it?

Anyway, a few years ago Sleep Became a Challenge. 

I couldn't get to sleep. And when I did, I'd wake up at 3am. And couldn't get back to sleep. 

And I began to dread going to bed. 

But now things have Slightly Changed.

Look at me in the photo below taken today in a Toy Tiara & a Muppet Stole.

Do I look sleep deprived?

I Don't Think So.

I don't look a thing like Margaret Thatcher.

Nowadays, I am getting more than six hours a night which is due in part to my new V. Early 9.30 pm Bedtime. 

Sadly, I can't write any more because it's now 9.31 & I'm already One Minute Late.

Hope you like my All Completely Thrifted Outfits including Footwear.

Yawn.

All About Boots Perhaps.

Today's blog entry is supposed to be about Boots. Perhaps you had already worked that out. But I can tell that The Blog Really wants it to be about my meetings with Mr. Ex-Middleaged. 

You see, The Blog, or should I just call it ( is 'It' a 'Her' perhaps?) 'Della', has a Mind of Her Own. But sadly, for Her, I'm In Charge.

'Della' is the Ventriloquist's Doll & I'm The Ventriloquist.

Now that we've got that straight, I may as well give you a little soupcon (don't you just love my Franglais?) of these meetings. And then I'll get on to The Boots.

Actually, there's only been two. Meetings, I mean, not Boots.

 Number 1: We met last friday in a tiny cafe for about twenty-five minutes max. That's all the time he had to spare because he had to rush off to the doctor's to be checked out for Pig Flu because he flys to Washington tomorrow, which I believe is The Official Home of Pig Flu. Then when he gets back, he has to revisit the Doctor & have a blood test to see if he caught it there &  wait for the results before he can go back to work. 

Number 2: Dinner last night at a v. expensive but empty hugely fashionable  two-hatted restaurant where we were served plates of miniature food with overpowering flavours like grated eggplant with a bucket of turmeric thrown  on it &  small slabs of silken tofu with little threads of salmon inside. And glasses of Italian Rose that I swear tasted like 'Ribena' or Blackcurrent Juice for kiddies.

 As I type, I feel as if I'm Blaspheming. How dare I say such things about this Sacred Restaurant which I Won't Name but would simply love to.  Maybe I'm just a Food Cretin, although that's 'Way Harsh'. Perhaps Food Naif.

Anyway, we managed to keep talking throughout the meal which I thought was a Monumental Achievement. I did not cry. In fact, here's The Thing: I've become as hard as nails & find it hard to cry now which is in stark contrast to how I used to be. Maybe it's the Male Hormones that I've been intravenously injecting.  And He never used to cry except at Movies & maybe at the end of the last episode of 'Seinfeld'. Now he cries. In public. In cafes. Last night I only caught him brushing away a tear or two. Meanwhile, I was sitting up Dry Eyed & Bushy Tailed.

Now I'll talk about Boots. 

But it's almost my bedtime & I couldn't be really that bothered now. 

So here's the Executive Summary: Today I drew a Boot on the whiteboard when discussing 'Emma' & 'Clueless. Perhaps it reflects my current good fortune in finding many pairs of boots at my Magical Thrift Shop.

 I'm showing off three of them in the photos. 

The young woman in one of the photos was mine & Trixie Drew's Fab Student Teacher who was with us until last friday. 

Yesterday, Ernestina in my staff room came to school with one black boot & one brown boot.It was Not a Conscious Style Decision.  In fact, Ernestina didn't notice the error until her Year 12 class tactfully pointed it out to her. Luckily, Princess Pip came to her rescue & provided an alternative.