Separated at Birth?

Of course, after all that talk about 'Slightly Slutty', I had to go & spoil it all by posting these photos of Me & The Duchess of Cornwall wearing almost the same outfit. Well, similar shades of Navy & white.

Navy is a colour that is Laden with Sub-Text for me. Back in the days before Black Became a Colour, women with 'Good Taste' swathed themselves in it. In fact, one of Diana Vreeland's most famous quotes is, 'Shocking Pink is the Navy of India'.

My Mother, who positively craved for me to look 'Refined & Nice' (her exact words), worshipped navy. She was desperate to see me in a little navy dress with perhaps gold buttons & white piping. And No Mullet or long dangling droopy hair like a drug addict.

Of course, I never went near Navy.

Oh, I do soo love that repeated 'N'. Particularly as it just came out by accident.

But look at me Now.

Duchess Della.

Let me briefly walk you through my outfit. The Fake Linen shirt & skirt is from 'Bednobs & Broomsticks', five bucks each. Navy Footless tights, probably twenty bucks. Real Bruno Magli navy shoes, a gift from my colleague, The Duchess (as opposed to The Duchess of Cornwell & Duchess Della) She was given them by her v. stylish elderly mother-in-law who doesn't realise that she has larger hoofs (or is it 'hooves'?) than her. Royal Blue sockettes, five bucks from 'Target'. Huge oversized resin bangle from 'Dinosaur Designs' warehouse sale, thirty bucks. Navy Tribalesque Beads made from maybe a part of an African Animal, a gift. Other Navy necklace, two bucks. Pearl earrings, two bucks recently purchased from 'Forever 51'.

I'm not entirely sure why I bothered to tell you the price of each item.

I did intend to add it all up & amaze you by announcing that it all came in under thirty bucks or something, but I couldn't be bothered.

And besides, if I said that, you may think that it only looks thirty bucks worth.

The Patron Saint of Slightly Slutty

I am Nothing if Not a Creature of Habit.

So, this morning I was standing as usual waiting for my Takeaway Skim Latte & Freshly Squeezed Orange Juice at 'Zinc', my local cafe.

And as usual, I was standing next to the large stack of magazines that the cafe provides. Just when I was getting into a Moderately Interesting article in New York Magazine about Madonna, Peter the cafe owner thrust these pictures of Pamela Anderson at me.

I was stunned.

Here at last is my Perfect Model of Slighty Slutty.

Except that I think the gloves are a Bit Twee. I'm definitely not going to copy them. Just imagine trying to write on the board with a whiteboard marker with little black lace gloves on?

The girls might quite like it though.

Do My Eyebrows Look Big in This?

I've just had my eyebrows waxed & tinted. It's part of my V. Strict Beauty Regime which I'll now quickly Walk You Through.

Every night I scrape the make up off my face with L'Oreal Because I'm Really Worth It Facial Wipes for Old Women.

And every second night I apply v. expensive Prescription Only Retinol Creme that my selfless friend Marge gave me when I was in California recently. She had her prescription made up & gave it to me because undoubtedly she thinks I need it more than her.

You're only supposed to put a tiny amount on - no more than the size of an average green pea I think was the exact measurement. Which goes against my Lifetime Practice of applying face creams liberally.

Each morning, I use either 'Dove' or any other cheap milky-like substance cleanser & water-like substance toner while I'm lying in the bath, usually after I wash my hair, which I wash every day. I gave up showering because I couldn't adjust the temperature properly.

You may, or may not wonder at my Daily Hair-Washing Practice which totally goes against every piece of advice that hairdressers have given me over the past forty years.

'Oh, don't wash your hair everyday. It will destroy all the natural oils', they chirp.

What a load of Manure. I've had Greasy Hair since the day I hit puberty. And it's getting Even Greasier.

Now we come to the Make up.

I only buy cheap. From the Supermarket. And I quite like 'Minerals' face powder. It is excellent for covering up huge red blotches that suddenly appear out of nowhere.

Rarely, if ever, would I go outside of my apartment building without make up on. Even if I'm just walking 25 metres to get a Takeaway Latte. You'd think I was Joan Collins or someone.

And now we come Full Circle back to the Eyebrows which I have expertly done by a lovely Japanese lady every three weeks. I find it such a Naughty & Slightly Risky Indulgence ever since Goldie at school told me that her best friend got a Golden Staph (perhaps wrong spelling) infection that completely disfigured her face & ruined her chances of becoming a newsreader because of Faulty Hot Wax.

Life is such a Knife-Edge, isn't it?

Hope you like these Faux Glam snaps of me taken outside 'Bednobs & Broomsticks' by Mitch, in the style of Bert Stern for Marilyn's Last Sitting.

I didn't buy the V. Real Fur Jacket. Someone else got in before me. But I probably wouldn't have bought it anyway.

A Migraineur

I'm sure I've never told you that I'm a Migraineur. Sounds rather exotic. Or interesting.

Something that One may have strived hard to finally achieve.

'Yes, I've been studying for years & I passed all the exams with flying colours. Now I can finally call myself a Migraineur'.

If only.

My migraines have receded over the past couple of years. I was starting to get Cocky.

Which is always a mistake.

But yesterday I was struck down from on high. Honestly, it was like something out of the Old Testament. You know, like Lot's Wife who was unexpectedly turned into a Pillar of Salt just because she turned around or something.

I won't turn your stomach by describing the attack. But look at how I look in the photo above, & it will give you some idea of how I felt.

Now I'm feeling much better.

My daughter, Billie-Mae has come up from Canberra to be with me. We've just come back from having a hearty dinner at 'Zinc' & she's watching the film, 'Enchanted'. Actually I'm getting sucked in too. Edward, the Dumb Prince has just told his mother, The Evil Susan Sarandon Queen, 'Silence, you murderous old hag!' But she doesn't take any notice of him & turns into a nasty blue dragon. I wish to hell that I could do that.

But then she explodes.

Drain Story

This is a True Story.

For months I've been v. bothered by the Kitchen Drain. Actually, it's two drains.

I have two sinks that sit cozily next to each other. They are Not Twins, as one is smaller than the other. Perhaps the smaller sink is the runt of the litter.

One day, the drain in the Larger Sink decided to clog. I was slightly Puzzled & Perplexed by this, as it had never behaved like this before even though I'd spent years carelessly letting any stray leaf or food scrap go down it.

I showed no respect for the Drain. I had more important things to do.

As the weeks sailed by, the Clogged Drain got worse. Sometimes, it would take up to fifteen minutes for the water to go down. I became Annoyed with the Drain.

Soon it was Time to Take Action.

I marched down to the Supermarket to scan the shelves for a packet of Powerful 'Drano', a product from my childhood that I'd always been itching to use.

But after carefully reading the package, I chickened out. 'Drano' was far too Powerful. I settled for the Herbal Biodegradable Brand.

What a Mistake.

The Drain obviously didn't like Alternative Lifestyle Choices & decided to clog up even more.

By this time, it was taking up to a half hour for the water to go down.

Relax, I said to myself. You have more important fish to fry.

And besides, you're going away to America for a couple of weeks. By the time you get back, the Drain may have Recovered all by Itself.

When I returned, Nothing Had Changed. Still Clogged to the Eyeballs.

I went back down to the Supermarket. This time I bought an Old Fashioned Plunger. I took it home & began furiously plunging. I got soaked.

As a result, No Water at all went down the sink. Not one drop. In desperation, I siphoned it into a bucket & poured it down the toilet.

I now felt like I had a Well instead of a Sink.

If anyone at all is Still Reading this, you may be wondering why I didn't just give up & call a Plumber. I took it as a Personal challenge to solve the Riddle of the Clogged Drain myself.

Despair set in. Nothing I could do seemed to make a difference. In fact, it seemed that everything I'd done so far to unclog the drain made it Far Worse.

Just when I was about to give in & call the plumber, I decided to give the Plunger just one more go.

Suddenly, there was a quick gurgle & the water easily & effortlessly drained away.

I fixed it!

What is Slightly Strange, is that something v. similar has happened to me on a personal level. Only I can't really reveal it yet. But I will.

For the past year since Mr. Ex-Middleaged left, I have been a Blocked Drain.

I have done all sorts of things & have tried all sorts of Implements to become Unblocked. But I only got worse.

But then I did something uncharacteristically Powerful & Grown Up & suddenly, I'm No longer Blocked.

In case you think that it's something to do with Sex, think again. If I did, I would never mention it on the blog because my daughter reads this & I loathe Boundary Issues.

Gratitude - A Fairly New Concept

I've only Fairly Recently discovered Gratitude.

Not that I haven't spent my life saying 'thank you' in all the Usual Ways.

But up until now I've never really thought about it. In fact, I've realised how feeling grateful doesn't come that easily. I've just taken everything for granted. And when stuff doesn't happen or is taken away from me, I feel Ripped Off.

'It's Sooooo unfair', I moan quietly to myself. Sometimes I might even scream it.

So, for nearly a year now, I've had a Gratitude Book. I even wrote a blog entry about it. Every day or so or whenever I feel like it, I write five things that I am grateful about.

I notice that I'm rarely grateful about The Blue Sky. Or the fact that I'm still Breathing. What I'm usually grateful for are Unexpected Gifts or Large or Small Compliments. Or perhaps a Return Phone Call from my Beautiful Princess Daughter, Billie-Mae.

So, here's some things that I've been grateful about for the past week or so.

1. William Shakespeare Action Figure with Detachable Quill, & Book on Household Nuclear Attack from the V&A Museum in London. See Above. My great friend, Trixie Drew gave me these gifts & a whole lot of other stuff from her recent trip to England.

2. Libina, my colleague who sits next to me & her stupid Faux Authentic Australian Cork Bush Hat designed to keep away flies. She is wearing it as part of the school's new Sunsafe Policy - No Hat, No Sunshine or Whatever.

Thank God I'm sitting next to her.

3. Mitch & my local thrift shop, 'Bednobs & Broomsticks'.

4. Sydney Grafitti & my great friend, Maud Bright Star who finds it for me.

5. My cute student Bethany, who brought this French Kiddie Book into my English Class & let me photograph it.

Screaming Binary Opposites.

Hello there.

Darla, noted that I am wearing a lot of subdued colours lately. She sincerely hoped that this wasn't a reflection of a lingering Sour Mood which I lightly touched on last week.

Maybe she's right.

I've certainly been wearing a lot of Black & White lately. In fact, just about every day last week I was a Screaming Binary Opposite.

I wonder what that says?

I shudder to think.

Black & white has long been considered a v. smart & chic pairing. Look at the Old Dame in the picture above.

No, not Me, but the other one. Her name is Sheila Scotter. For many decades, Sheila was the Queen Of Australian 'Vogue', a kind of cross between Diana Vreeland & Anna Wintour with a touch of Old School Dowager thrown in.

I was never interested One Slice in Sheila. She seemed far too Strict & Serious for me. And besides, she only ever wore Black & White. It was her signature style.

I had totally forgotten about Sheila. And so had everyone else apparently. But she hadn't forgotten about herself & has doggedly continued to wear Black & white in spite of it all. Now of course, she's being Wheeled Out to be in some Fashion Campaign.

Don't think for a moment that I'm Copying Sheila just because I put myself next to her & I'm wearing Black & White.

OH, BTW, I've never been fond of that Grande Old Dame of a Magazine Cliche, 'Timeless Elegance', which is how Sheila & an army of other tasteful women have been described over & over by the World's Mags.

I've got much much more to say about this but I won't say it now because I'm getting Far Too Wound Up & it's almost bedtime & I won't be able to sleep.

I'll move on to my next pairing. I just love how I'm ever-so-slightly echoing or perhaps 'channelling' if I was a New Ager, another of Fashion's Grande Dames, Anna Piaggi. I stole this photo from The Sartorialist. Anna, yet another 'Vogue' person, has been looking like this for maybe her whole life. Perhaps her mother put little hats on her head like the one she's wearing from the time she was able to keep her head up by herself. I've never seen a photo of Anna without a similar hat. Usually, they are much smaller, but the same shape. Like a Toy Hat or a Doll's Hat.

I'm sure both Grand Dames would be horrified to see this blog post. Or maybe just slightly irritated. Or perhaps thay wouldn't give a Rat's Arse which is certainly going to be My Attitude towards everything when I'm that old.

Bring it On.