Too Cold To Name This Post

 Hello & Welcome to my Chilly Little World.
It's Evening & I'm Freezing.
 Perhaps that rhymes.
I'd love it if it did. In fact, I'd love it if I could get the Entire Blog Post to rhyme. Perhaps a long series of Dainty Rhyming Couplets. Maybe Soon. But not now.
Anyway, back to being freezing. Even though I'm wearing my Toy Uggs & a series of thick woolen scarves that are wound so tightly around my turkey neck that I feel that I'm in a neck brace & I have two crocheted blankets wrapped across my knees which also holds my laptop that also doubles as a Mild Hot Water Bottle Substitute, I'm still freezing.
But, well may you ask, where is my Electric Heating?
The short answer is, I don't have any. Well, that's not entirely true, but I'm not going to go into it in any detail. Let's just say that I'm Fearful of Bills.
Anyway, someone once told me that Being Cold is a wonderful way to Burn Calories because the body uses up so many trying to get warm.
Of course, none of this has anything to do with the  Pictures. It Never Does. But now let's get to them!
In case you think that the top picture is Me, it's not. Neither is the picture underneath.

And No, I didn't take the pictures either. Lord Snowdon did. Well, at least he took the one above. Not sure about the first one.
By now you might be wondering who this woman is if it isn't me.
It's Eve Arnold, a dead woman.  She died perhaps last year aged 99.
 Many people think that living that long is an achievement. I don't. I'm sure she'd had an Absolute Gutload & was desperate to get out of here, particularly because she was one of the best photographers who ever lived & for the last few years of her life  wasn't even able to hold a camera, much less take an actual photo.
Last week I saw a documentary on Eve's life & work called Eve Arnold in Retrospect. I totally recommend watching it for anyone interested in Photography, Celebrity, Old Women & Life in General. I must admit I viewed it with a mixture of excitement, interest, envy & existential ennui, which have to be My Top Four Emotions of All Time, particularly the last two, although I am pretty fond of Mild to Severe Irritation & of course, Full Blown Rage.

Eve was a Magnum photographer which meant she took photos of all sorts of things in far flung & often dangerous places around the world. But I'm not really interested in that. I'm interested in her photos of Joan Crawford. And also Marilyn.
As soon as you finish reading, go straight to Google Images & type in Eve Arnold. All sorts of amazing photos will come up. Some of them you will  know, & others not. Even though I think I'm a World Expert on Joan & if I were a contestant on a quiz show where you could pick your Special Topic of Interest I'd pick her, I must admit that I'd never seen these pictures of her taken in about 1958. Apparently, Joan commissioned them. There's a whole series of photos of her having excruciating beauty treatments & some scary close ups of her applying her own  eye make up revealing an excruciatingly wrinkled eyelid. She must have done a whole heap of sun baking with her eyes shut & no sunglasses. Maybe sunlamps.
As I'm always Alert But Not Alarmed About Signs of Ageing,  I just examined my eyelid for any Joan-style wrinkles. Not too bad. It's my Naso-Labials that are a worry. But that's a Whole Other Story.

Meanwhile, back to Me.
You know I never mention my Official Classroom Photographer these days.
Her name is George. She likes to tell me what to do.She's organised. Inquisitive. Outgoing. And I don't like it when she doesn't come to class. She never forgets that I need a photo at the end of class. I will miss her when she's gone which will be soon.
Below are photos she took last week of Me & My Outfits.
 Everything, except a pashmina featuring a Roberto Cavalli print, is thrifted from 'BednobsEtc'

n the photo above, I'm wearing a perhaps silk, or at least Silken striped Carla Zampatti skirt which I've had for Some Years. For quite some time, I toyed with the idea of having it taken up but of course I never got around to it which is a good thing because I saw on Fashion Police, which I'm still doggedly watching that Victoria Beckham's range of dresses are all quite long. As well, Camembert, another opinionated student told me today that she much prefers the longer length on me rather than my shorter, Sluttier skirts.
I'm wearing a beautiful pure wool French jacket & a black shirt underneath. Neither item fits, although the shirt kind of does up, which is more than I can say about the jacket. Only the first two buttons do up. French woman must have their Ribs Removed or something.

I'm standing in the picture above like I'm a 1950s Spokesmodel standing in front of a Large, Family size Fridge.  I can't believe how daintily I'm positioning my right leg & holding my lipstick which looks uncannily like a cigarette.
The thing to note in this outfit is that I'm wearing matching black Sweatbands which I totally love which in reality probably look not quite Stupid, but perhaps Silly. I'm wearing them for an Entirely Practical Reason:  they help corral my unruly Wild Animal bracelets. I can't have them getting in the way while I'm writing on the Whiteboard, can I?

And then there's this great jacket which sadly makes my arms look like Lamb Shanks. But it was really because I was wearing about five layers of clothes underneath. Honestly.

CURRENT OBSESSIONS:
Obsession #1:
Look who popped into the classroom!
Yes, Alec Baldwin. I nearly wet myself.
At present I'm watching Series 4 of 30 Rock every nite. I'm obsessed. I so love everything about Alec's character, Jack Donaghy. And I do love Alec as well. I don't actually want to be like him, I want to BE With Him, although I am madly practising talking in a new kind of Breathy Whispering Way which is how Alec speaks. It's not working, though as my voice is more Natural Foghorn.

Obsession #2:
Here, above are some crotcheted rugs that I bought. I'm constantly buying them at BednobsEtc. And because I've got so many, the ones that are wrapped around my knees at the moment are not these ones. Crotcheted blankies are draped across couches & beds all over my apartment. I call it Designer Nursing Home Chic.

Obsession #3: 
Taking photos even though I'm never going to be as good as Eve Arnold.
As I was trudging up the street last week, I came across this poor, bedraggled, abandoned picture. I know exactly how it feels.

Obsession #4: Layering.
Look look above at my dressing table from childhood which I've recently loaded up with layers of mementos. There's my California pennant, which is my Second Favourite place in the World because it's where my BFF Marge lives. An old lamp that I bought about thirty years ago at a market stall. Matching Globe bookends from my daughter Maeflower & her fiance Russell; A miniature Mexican sombrero; A Mexican Tin Mirror , Pictures of Saints, including my Mother's Favourite Saint, St Therese, The Little Flower & some Op Shop Paintings.

Obsession #4:
Perseverance. 688 Blog Posts & still going.

Sadly, I'm More of a SabreTooth Than a Cougar

 Yesterday. I was nonchalantly lunching at my desk in the staffroom quietly checking on the price of a new
Diane Von Furstenberg silk jersey wrap dress (mostly $345USD) when The Duchess, who sits to my right & who I can't see because a bookcase conveniently obscures her, burst out, 'Are you ever going to write another blog entry again?'
And then Trixie, who sits to my left said 'Yes, I was wondering that too. You know that it's been nearly a month since you bothered to write anything?'
'Nonsense', I retorted. 'Why, you obviously haven't read my latest blog featuring Holiday Snaps, which incidentally you took'.
'Yes, but that was on the 29th  June. It's almost the end of July'.
I checked & to my horror she was right.
She's always right. That's why we're friends.
So, I thought I'd better bite the bullet & write something to go with all these photos of me in various locations with pretty much the same expression on my face whether I'm at the beach or standing in front of a huge display of Colourful Thongs.

In the Premier Photo, I'm at Maroubra Beach in Sydney with AJ. We're not in Swimwear because it is winter. Everyone else at the beach had clothes on too. So it was not just us.
I would like to point out that I'm wearing one of my favourite new Jewelry Items from 'BednobsEtc', a v. large black enamel strawberry with diamantes where the green bit should be. I'm not sure what that part of the strawberry is actually called as I'm not good with technical terms. The stalk? The cap?
Anyway, I love the strawberry & you might just be able to make it out if you look closely.

 Next I'm at the Art Gallery in Sydney viewing the Biennale with Trixie. The theme of it is 'All Our Relations'. Of course it's obvious that this enormous pile of thongs fits perfectly into the theme as all the thongs, even though they are  diffferent colours are all related to each other. Just like us Humans.
Talk about joining the dots. It's just so easy.
There were many other exciting exhibits on show, including an enormous grid of three cities joined together made entirely in situ from talcum powder. There was a large sign up next to it warning everyone Not to Sneeze.
And then there was a replica of a room in an Asian city which was entirely made of embroidery. It was so realistic, that neither of us noticed.

 Meanwhile back at 'BednobsEtc', I'm triumphantly holding up a Real Not Toy Marc Jacobs canvas tote that I purchased for $18 & mistakenly thought would be the panacea for all my woes.
 Sadly, it wasn't as it's got a rather Workmanlike Feel to it. Besides, the straps aren't quite long enough to use as a shoulder bag which is inconvenient. And then there's the constant stress of having to make sure that the Text is on show at all times as the other side is Blank just like my mind sometimes. I mean, why go to the trouble of having a Marc Jacobs bag without showing off that it is?
BTW, I'm standing with Amos, a volunteer at 'Bednobs' who is marvellously dressed just like a character from a Gilbert & Sullivan Opera. Maybe 'The Pirates of Penzance'.
On the other hand, I'm dressed for a vigorous saturday morning thrift shopping experience as if I'm about to go cruising a late nite bar all in leather & velvet animal print. I just looked up the dictionary definition of a woman older than a Cougar.
It's SabreTooth.

 And then the holidays ended &  I had to return to My Rightful Place in the Universe - in front of the Whiteboard. Do note that I'm wearing the exact same 'Jones, New York' lambswool jacket as I was wearing in front of the Colourful Thongs at the Biennele. But this time, I've teamed it with a magnificent royal blue Real Pashmina that my daughter Maeflower brought back from a trip to Nepal last year.

 Later on that day I noticed a Strange Phenomenon that seems to be creeping into our Staffroom with alarming frequency. As soon as I noticed it, I demanded that Trixie photograph it for posterity.
Can you see it?
Yes, all three of us - Newly-Married Shrub, Me & Newly-Engaged Dobbo are all wearing the exact same colour top/jacket which is a Shade of Teal. As well, Dobbo & me are both wearing Aubergine dresses.
And, here's the Slightly Creepy part -  we Didn't Plan in Advance to do this.

 And then the Very Next Day, Shrub & me did it again - a black & white houndstoothy coat/jacket, although I mercifully didn't wear yellow shoes. Goodness, if I did, imagine what  the Age Appropriate Police over at Fabulous Over Fifty would Think? I shiver at the thought.

I wish I could think of a Technical Term to describe the phenomenon of co-workers coincidentally wearing the same colours/colour combinations to work. It's a bit like women who live in the same house getting their period at the exact same time. Luckily, that's something I don't have to worry about any more.
So, maybe it's  our Unconscious Desire to be Related to each other just like the Giant Pile of Thongs at the Art Gallery?
If you come up with a Term for it, do let me know, I beg you.
The only one I can think of is 'Twinsies'  which is a bit lame although it does remind me of the way that Joan Crawford used to dress herself & her adopted daughters in identical outfits for the cameras.

 Just to show you my Unfailing Dedication to Trying to Look like a Cougar instead of a SabreTooth, here I am yesterday stretching my Glutes (what a vulgar name for a v. large muscle) at the end of my weekly Boot Camp session at Rushcutter's Bay Park in Sydney. My fellow bootcampers aren't featured in the photo as they'd all collapsed in a heap.

Goody Goody, I'm nearly at the end! V. sooon I can hop into bed & listen on my iPod to Thomas Tallis' 'Spem in Alium', a sixteenth century vocal piece for forty voices that has shot back to the top of the charts because it's heavily mentioned in the hugely successful 'Mommy Porn' book, 'Shades of Grey' that I couldn't be bothered reading but some of my colleagues are.
What a stupid name for a book.
Why not 'Shades of Elephant'?
Before you leave, why not check out My Ear? Camembert,  the student who took this photo of it this morning, assured me that it is a v. youthful ear. I was relieved.
But don't just look at the ear, check out what's dangling from the rather saggy lobe - a genuine Versace earring (actually I'm wearing a matching one on the other ear) that I got at BednobsEtc.
I'm thrilled. It makes me feel much more like a Cougar than a SabreTooth.

A Sudden Rush of Smug

Thank God I'm on Holidays.
Look above at me taken towards the end of last week, the day before the Last Day of the Term.
It's my Best Tired Budgerigar Look . You just can't fake a look like that.
And clearly I'm misreading the days because  my outfit, screams Disco Friday and it was only Thursday. I can't believe that I got up in the morning & put on that jacket. And then threw that Tired- As-An-Old-Rag- Scarf around my neck.
As soon as I saw this photo, I tore off the jacket & threw it in the Garbage.
Talking of Garbagy Clothes, this week I read a scathing critique of  Modern Dressing by some Fed Up American Journalist called Elizabeth Kline, who in the Huffington Post said that Michele Obama doesn't dress well because she buys environmentally questionable disposable outfits from shops that stock cheap imports. Shame on her because she should be setting the standard for Ethical Dressing, said Kline.
I certainly didn't say that. I wouldn't even think it.
But I do admit to being overcome by A Sudden Rush of Smug as soon as I read the article. Go read it yourself, I kindly & uncharacteristically provided a useful link.
As some of you or perhaps one of you might know, I don't buy new clothes, although I do admit an occasional liking for Cotton On & their  v.v. cheap oversized tee shirts. In fact, I had one on today that you'll later be able to glimpse.

Oh dear, I'm having Layout Problems again with this Blog Post. The photos have kind of rearranged themselves & now Blogger won't let me type where I wanted to type. I do hope you can follow.
It would be a Tragedy if you couldn't.

Anyway, where was I? OH yes, back at school in the photo on the left. It was the Actual Last Day of Term & even though it Actually Was Friday, I mercifully decided NOT to turn it into Disco Friday, alhough I did attempt to flirt with a new male member of staff  at End of Term Drinks , but he probably didn't notice & just thought I was Brown Nosing instead.  Which I sort of was. It's my default position.
I'm wearing a Muppet Collar  which I bought many years ago at H&M NYC.
 Oh, how I ache to go there again! Tyler, my stepson is there at the moment working for a Psychopath in the Fashion Industry & living in a cozy shared apartment in trendy Williamsburg where all the young men except him are walking around with Big Beards with no Mustaches & looking like they should be living in Log Cabins.
So, I'm not in NYC, but on Monday I was in The Next Best Place - Parramatta Westfield.  (For anyone who is an OutofTowner, Parramatta is a suburb to The West of Sydney's CBD)
My great friend Trixie Drew drove me out there for a Special Treat. Of course we stopped off at my favourite Jewelry Store, Diva, where sadly they were having The Butt End of a Sale, throwing out such Must-have items as Playboy Bunny charms & diamante encrusted knuckle dusters. I couldn't find a thing to buy.
Note I'm wearing what appear to be Pants. Usually I never wear them for a Multitude of Reasons that can be summed up with Short Legs Big Bum. I absolutely loved wearing the thrifted from 'BednobsEtc' jacket that was from NYC but sadly also had a 'Made in China' label. Luckily, I didn't buy it new or I'd be in that feisty Journalist, Elizabeth Kline's bad books. Quelle Horreur!

Recently, when Channel Surfing, I briefly watched a documentary about the Best Fashion/Beauty Inventions of all time. I was shocked to hear that the invention of Dry Shampoo was right up there with the invention of the Little Black Dress.
Why was dry shampoo such a Big Deal, I wondered. Most people have working bathrooms with running water & shampoo & conditioner & even blow dryers, don't they?
But then I realised how sick to death I am of washing my hair. I must have washed it millions of times over my lifetime & it still looks greasy the next day. I think I've earned the right to wash it only when I feel like it.  Oooo, I am sounding a little Hilaryesque, aren't I?
So, I bought some dry shampoo. It took me a while to decide between the Tropical Coconut Variety & the Vanilla. I eventually went with the Tropical because I particularly love coconut in cakes. My colleague, The Other Sue, drinks Coconut Water every lunchtime which I think is rather faddish. But that's a whole other story.
Anyway, here I am this morning in the photo above just after I had sprayed my hair with it. It Looks & smells just like a Coconut. Yum.

Just after I photographed my Freshly Coconutted Hair I took this photo of part of my bed.
I do love my Union Jack pillow cases  which remind me of Vivienne Westwood. They're just for show because I'm afraid that if I sleep on them, I'll dribble all over them. And then they'd be ruined.
I also love my newly-thrifted from 'BednobsEtc' woolen blanket even though it only fits half the bed.

 

 Talking of 'BednobsEtc', my great friend AJ photographed me in there today wearing my favourite Flanelette Dress holding  a Real Not Toy Chanel Handbag. I nearly wet myself when it appeared. I had dreamed of, prayed & yearned for this moment for years! And it finally arrived!  My excitement was undiminished even when AJ loudly declared that the bag was 'on it's Last Legs'. She also queried my credentials in being able to identify a Real from a Toy Chanel.
How does a Mother Emperor Penguin tell her Offspring from all the other seemingly identical Baby Emperor Penguins, you may ask? It's the same thing.

 I took a close up of the bag when I got it safely home. In the photo, you can't see all the cracks in it. A bit like my face when photographed at a distance under good lighting.
It's even got its Original Tassle. And the Double C logo has got a 5 engraved on the side. I've never seen that before. And all the zippers, inside & out still zip. What a bonus.
I had been tempted to rush out & purchase the newly-revamped Coach Willis Bag that has been launched for Coach's 70th birthday. But now I won't. I'll settle for the Ten Dollar Chanel. Even though it's a little chipped. We make a good pair.

I was soo excited after I bought the bag that I had to take myself off to the New South Wales Art Gallery to have a look at the Biennale & view the new Re-Hang in my striped 'Cotton On' top. Apparently, when an art gallery rehangs their permanent collection these days, it's a Big Deal.  I'm not sure why.
Anyway, I couldn't help but photograph myself in a mirrored artwork. Note my Union Jack iPhone case. Maybe the Union Jack will become my Signature Emblem. Pity I'm not The Queen. Or even English.

I was intrigued by a display of ten tiny log cabins that were made from cardboard or some kind of paper by an American Indian artist called Alan Michelson. It was part of the Biennele which I don't seem to be able to spell properly but I'm sure you know what I mean.
I was particularly thrilled that I took this photo because there was a sign up forbidding photography which I cleverly didn't see until after I had taken the photo.  I think the photo is particularly charming because it appears to having a little rainbow running down the roof of the log cabin.
Not now, but some other time I'll tell you about my utter hatred of being told I can't photograph something I want to photograph because it's a sacred site or its a privacy issue or a copyright issue. Or some other issue. The world was easier before Issues Were Invented.

But I'm determined not to end this rather long post on a Sour Note. No, I'll leave that to Mrs. Victor White, the subject of this adorable painting by Australian painter Roy de Maistre from 1938. It was donated by her three granddaughters in 1972.
Mrs. White reminded me of my own Grandmother who was still wearing Whalebone corsets in the sixties.

Just Like Me, Teacup Pigs Cry Real Tears

 Hello & Welcome to My Queen's Birthday Long Weekend.
What a week!
As well as marking 97 exam papers & then another 89 exam papers, I had a full schedule keeping up with the Queen's Jubilee.
I sailed along the Thames in the Royal Barge with Her Majesty as she stood for hours & hours at the helm. I wondered if I could stand for that long. I certainly couldn't do it without complaining. Or at least sneering.
I felt Slightly Squeamish at the sight of Paul McCartney's Freshly Dyed Hair at the Royal Concert & wondered how all those years ago, I could have screamed into a cushion so my parent's couldn't hear me when I listened to him singing 'All My Lovin'.
I cried when Prince Charles began his speech to his mother with 'Your Majesty......Mummy'.
And I wondered what on earth could be done about Prince William's massive Bald Issue. Sadly, I couldn't come up with a Remedy. Perhaps Military Caps.

Not satisfied with all the excitement of the Jubilee, midweek I squealed with delight when discovering The Teacup Piglet. I'm sure that they've been aeronautically engineered or whatever you call it in a charmlessly disgusting way & that Pig's Rights Activists are up in arms, but it still doesn't stop them being cute.
Look at the photo above, & you'll see me fondling a couple of Teacups who just happened to wander into the classroom at the v. moment when I was giving a lesson on Futility & The Human Condition. Note I'm wearing a vintage Italian Wool Knit Dress by Spinelli that has a small hole in it.  Yellow is supposed to be Big Right Now. Sadly, I was wearing Black Undergarments which showed through & spoiled the effect somewhat. But luckily, the Teacups didn't notice.
One Startling Fact about The Teacup: Apparently, they cry Real Tears. 

I'm having quite a time with Blogger right now trying to organise
the photos & the text. It won't let me do what I want to do which sounds like a Microcosm for the Rest of my Life.
So it's Not MY Fault that everything is a little Higgledypiggledy in this Blog Entry. But maybe it always is.
Anyway, follow my Easy Directions & you'll get the General Gist!
Look above at the Two Photos. They are linked.
On the left is a gift of a beautiful bangle I received in the mail yesterday from Thousand Oaks Ca. It was from Bernisse who is on the left of the photo on the right.
 Are you with me?
Recently, Bernisse was in Italy & became acquainted with the Designer Brand 'Furla'. Knowing my penchant for Upscale Designer Brand Merchandise particularly if the Brand Name appears on the item, Bernisse purchased the bangle for me & sent it inside the little Branded Carry Bag that it came in.
I was thrilled! If you look carefully, you can see that 'Furla' is stamped on the bangle.
Now go back to the picture on the right. That is my BFF Marge who is wearing a dress which she describes as a Bandage Dress. It is from 'Anthropologie' & they call it, a 'Bailey Dress'. I'm not sure why. After David Bailey the photographer or perhaps Christopher Bailey, the creative director of Burberry?
Anyway, the dress looks great on her. Who would have thought that a dress that fits like a bandage would be so flattering? After all, you don't look at a person's bandaged limb & think how smart it looks, do you?

Now, go back to the photo of me Smugly Posing in a 'Simply Vera' by Vera Wang long cardi that I purchased at my favourite shop, 'BednobsEtc' for under $20.

As usual, I'm getting to the end & I can't be bothered telling you about my outfits.This always happens.
 One item is an Ungaro. Another item is a Diana Von Furstenberg. I'm sure you can work out which ones which.
 It's early Sunday Evening & I have a pot of Gravy Beef  on the stove that I'm cooking for hours & hours & will eventually become a Tasty Soup to serve to my Sunday Nite Mad Men Dinner Guests who will arrive in the next couple of hours so I must go. But not before I tell you how Rivetting Series Five is. But maybe you know this already.

Shame

 Hello.
It's Monday Nite. I'm sitting up snugly wearing my Toy Ugg Boots after just finishing watching yet another documentary on The Queen, a Woman I've Long Admired & Have, Over Many Years, Striven to Emulate as Much as I Can.
But, you may ask, How can One be like The Queen?
It's easy. Follow this Simple Check List, below:
1. Smile.
2. Wave Majestically.
3. Wear lots of Bling.
4. Stick to Pleasantries.
5. Prefer Dogs & Horses to People.
7. Wear hats that look like upturned Saucepans with bows on them.
8. Turn up.
9. Give a speech at Xmas.

Need I go on?
Anyway, that's not what this blog entry is About. Absolutely Not.
YOu may have noticed that the whiteboard in the first photo pleaded with you in a kind of Poor Little Match Girl  way not to scream at me  in Upper Case, 'Get a Life' .
In fact, I can't actually remember anyone ever telling me to get a life, although many people over the years have said things like, 'YOu haven't lived unless you've drunk a Harvey Wallbanger', which was a vile cocktail from the Seventies made from Galliano & Orange Juice I think.
Or, 'YOu haven't lived unless you've gone Skinnydipping in Sydney Harbour' which is what a guy once said to me on Our First Date.
But I guess that's not the same thing, is it?

 So, even though no one's ever told me to get a life I now live in Mortal Terror of being told so after I read about these  Young British Mummy Blogs Featuring Daily Photos of School Drop Off Outfits.
Let me explain..............

Some Mothers don't go to work. Instead, they get dressed in a Nice Outfit every morning & drive their children to school.
Once they arrive at the School Gate, they get out of the car & make one of their children or perhaps a Passerby take their photo.
Then, they race home & post the photo/s & an accompanying description of their Outfit on their blog.
They then have a cup of tea or a latte & wait for 50,000 page views.
Of course I'm not Collegial enough to be bothered creating a link to any of these blogs. I think perhaps one is called School Gate Something or Other & another might feature the word Suburban. Maybe Suburban Style. If you google School Gate Style you might find one.
Now I'm feeling guilty. Why can't I be bothered finding out their precise names?
Is it because I'm a Lazy Slattern?
No. I'm just tired & desperate to hop into bed with a small bowl of Globe Grapes the size of Eyeballs to munch  quietly before dropping off to sleep.

 But before I hop into bed, where does the Get a Life bit come in?
Well, apparently Disgruntled Blog Followers have been writing 'Get a Life' on these Mum's blogs. Like, haven't you women got anything better to do with your time than take endless photos of yourself outside the school gate? Get a Life.


And what say if one of these Disgruntlers might accidentally come across my blog & discover what's going on Inside the School Gate?
What O What would they say?

 I'd be soo mortified that I'd have to make a Quick Exit in my Getaway Car, which incidentally is the title of my favourite Hall & Oates song, 'In My Getaway Car'.

Talking of Outfits, I do want to Ever-so-Gently walk you through what I'm wearing in the photos in my Absolute Favourite Text Type, The Dot Point:

1. Almost everything is thrifted from my favourite Magic Shop, 'BednobsEtc'
2. The Pashmina in the top photo is an Actual Real not Toy Pashmina - a Roberto Cavalli Digital Print Offcut bought at a shop that actually sells New Things that I was taken to by my friend, The Ex-School Nurse. Like the School Drop-Off Blogs, I can't remember the name of the shop which is well worth a visit if you live near Waterloo in Sydney.
3. Can't be bothered saying anything much more except:
 * I Love Navy.
* I Love Pashminas. Soo good for covering up Middleaged Trouble Spots like Necks etc as well as provide comfort from the cold.
* I love wearing Double Animal Print bangles. It brings out my Inner Beast who actually Has a Life.

Lastly, I must must tell you about a blog whose name I sadly can remember. It's called Fabulous Over 50, although I'm not creating a link. Perhaps you have heard of it.
My BFF Marge in Thousand Oaks got me on to it. At first I was thrilled. That's me, I thought, although perhaps Fabulous Waay Over 50 would be more accurate.
When I got onto it I made a Beeline for a kind of Advanced Style Street Style Type Section that featured shots of women over 50 taken maybe in NYC. Underneath each photo were comments by a gaggle of Professional Stylists with accompanying photos & links to their web sites.
 The first street photo was of a lady who had on a Black Outfit of Many Parts.  If I saw this lady walking along the street I'd think she looked kind of interesting even though I personally wouldn't wear what she was wearing.
But all the stylists totally went to town on her. It was like the Nuremberg Fashion Crimes Trials. 
So mean. So nasty. One really hateful stylist accused her of the Unforgivable Crime of Not Being Age Appropriate which immediately made me want to race out & have my Belly Button pierced & wear a midriff top & short shorts.
I kept on thinking about the way the lady was standing there looking all hopeful & happy that she'd been noticed & how she might feel if she read all those comments.
I know how I'd feel.
Shame.

I Do Hope I Don't Look Too Much Like a Newly-Covered Armchair

It's one of those Sunday Afternoons. It's desperate to rain, but can't quite bring itself to.
I'm glad because I just trotted down the hill to the Supermarche to purchase supplies for tonite's Sunday Nite Mad Men Dinner & I didn't even have to run between the raindrops.
Yes, it's Mad Men Series 5 my guests & me are watching. I won't go on about it too much except to say that Betty, played by January Jones has considerably Porked Up for this series with the aid of a v. convincing Fattish Suit. BTW, what an interesting name January is, although I suppose she gets called Jan which isn't so interesting & an abbreviation of Janet, which I've always thought is a v. severe & serious name except it you pare it with Brad. You know, Brad & Janet from The Rocky Horror Show.

It's kind of strange to be called after a Month, although I've just remembered that half my daughter's name is Mae & I have a student called April & I always wanted a mother like June Cleaver from 'Leave it to  Beaver, my favourite show when I was five. And then of course there's Wednesday, the daughter from The Addams Family. OH, but sadly Wednesday isn't a month is it? Same Ball Park, though.
Anyway, enough of names. Let's talk about what I'm doing in the photos.
Can you guess?

I'm showing you my lunch. I pack it every day in my Plastic Lunch Pail which is on the floor next to my feet which are wearing little thrifted Anne Klein black patent booties.
I am slavish about bringing my lunch. I even bring it when the cupboard is bare & everything in the fridge is slightly rotting. I always seem to find something to shove into a plastic container & heat up in the microwave in the Staff Lunch Room.
Here's an example. I like to call this The Desperate Lunch:
*1 cup of pasta that I boil up whilst eating breakfast in bath.
* A large sprinkle of any cheese over the pasta even, when Really Desperate, that Toy Parmesan that comes in packets which has a distinctly soapy flavour. Apparently, the Parmesan Du Jour is Parmesan Reggiano. I must, must must get some. Desperate to be part of the Zeitgeist.
* A handful of chopped semi-sundried tomatoes.
* A handful of chopped curly parsley & chopped fresh dill.
* A tablespoon of pine nuts.
Actually, the last three ingredients aren't really part of The Desperate Lunch.
It's just really the first two.

My Favourite Foods for Lunch Packing:
* Thinly-sliced Chilled Pears that I pack with little crumbles of Blue Cheese. I have always eschewed Blue Cheese but for some v. odd reason, I now can't get enough of it. The only problem is that I can never tell if the cheese in my fridge is Real Blue Cheese or just Rotting Other Cheese.
* Lashings of rocket & dill & parsley to go with the pears etc.
* Chick peas. Only in cans. I don't have the time or the expertise to be bothered soaking or cooking or whatever you do to real chick peas.
According to The Head of English who is v. knowledgeable about English & possibly everything else, Chick Peas are the new Super Food.
* Cous cous.
Must stop typing & go into kitchen & prepare two chickens that I am stuffing with fresh lemon thyme, pine nuts, garlic, breadcrumbs & bacon & then putting in tidy oven bags & roasting for seventy minutes.
But before I go, I must quickly walk you through What I'm Wearing:
* A Coatdress that looks like it's made from a Soft Furnishing Fabric. I do hope I don't look too much like a newly-covered Armchair. BTW, I totally love coatdresses right now. I can wear the same old plain black dress underneath every day & jazz it up with a coatdress over the top
* A Pashmina. I think I bought this one for five bucks at a stall on Fifth Avenue in NYC years ago. I could write a whole blog post about Pashminas but I won't because I have to get back to the kitchen. In the meantime, try & think about what I might say about them.
* Matching Toy Leather Cuffs that scream Wannabe Hermes.
Bon Appetit!

I Said I Love You But I Lied

 Like many people decades & decades younger than me all around the world, I love Instagram.
Perhaps you also use it.
 Perhaps you've never heard of it. Sadly, I'm not going to explain what it is except to say that it's an Instant Photo with Magical Powers.
Occasionally I try to summon up these Magical Powers when I see something interesting in the street which isn't too often.  Maybe I'm just not looking properly.
But last week I walked out of the school gate after a long & exhausting day standing over a Hot Whiteboard only to find the above message neatly written in chalk across the footpath.
Of course I immediately thought it was addressed to me.
I racked my brain. Who had recently lied when they told me that they loved me, I wondered.
No one. I'm sure everyone who told me they loved me, meant it. Or if they didn't, they wouldn't bother admitting it.
So  I just took an Instagram instead.
It was much more satisfying than Brain Racking. Or is it 'Wracking'?


c
 Talking of Hot Whiteboards, here I am this week in a whole series of  Exciting Photos taken by v. bored & slightly reluctant students who are sick to the back gills of taking photos of me & my outfits.
The weather is supposed to be almost late autumn. But it's kind of hot. In fact, as I type, I've just had to slip off  both Toy Ugg Boots as my feet were getting v. sticky. And it's nite when it's supposed to be coldish.
Anyway, I've been smugly congratulating myself all week on my Clever Layering  which allows me to discard jackets & scarves as the day hots up .
You can see what I mean in the snap above, although I don't think I did actually remove the lightweight wool jacket that partially covered the Shocking Pink Toy Satin blouse that I later ruined by spilling blue cheese dressing all down the front of it. As I am unable to Remove Stains, I'll have to throw it out.
On my feet, I'm wearing genuine Ferragamos that I bought for five bucks at a thrift store in Palm Springs this past January which of course now feels like years & years ago.
Oh, I must tell you something Mildly Gross.
I have good reason to think that my feet have grown by perhaps almost a size.
How is this possible for a woman of my age?
Is it because over the past few years in a desperate bid to fit into Thrifted Designer Shoes, I've developed a Flexible Attitude Towards Shoe Sizes & don't care what size I wear?
It all started with a pair of creme YSL ballet flats that were at least a size too big. They were only twenty bucks & I was determined, nay, desperate to have them. So I stuffed them with tissue paper & wore them.
After that, I didn't really care what size a shoe was if it was a designer label. I always managed to find a way to clump around in them regardless.
And now look what's happened?
Maybe it's my Feet's way of getting back at me.

I totally love this thrifted Carla Zampatti military style jacket that I wore with an unusual brooch featuring a long line of Toy Coins. Everyone thought I was wearing medals. As if I would.
Just now I was trying to think what I could get a Medal for:
1. The Loudest & Potty-iest Mouth in Any Staffroom in Sydney;
2.  Attending Therapy More Times Than Anyone Else in the Southern Hemisphere;
3. Having an Entirely Thrifted Wardrobe.
I recently re-watched that adorable film Rushmore, where the main character, a school student received two medals - one for perfect attendance & the other for  Punctuality. I would never get a medal for either of those two things, although I'm not particularly late or anything.

 Yesterday was boiling hot so I was forced to remove A Layer, revealing an adorable Spring-Type blouse in a Floaty Fabricwith big puffy sleeves & a pussy bow, which wasn't particularly flattering.
 But I didn't care, I wore it anyway. In an attempt to not look too much like Shirley Temple, or perhaps Margaret Thatcher, I butched it up by wearing a small gaggle of leather studded wristbands.

And now we're at The End. And not a moment too soon because if I don't hop into bed in a moment, I might explode.
I'm dressed for Disco Friday last week in a dress that screams Too Young For You!
But I ignored it.