Starting Over Even When There's No Over in Sight.

At times I wonder if I am like Most Other Bloggers.

For instance, I blog at Nite. Mostly.

Only its Daylite now. Saturday late morning. And it feels Unnatural.

My Internal Headmistress is sternly inquiring why I'm not sitting huddled in one of the local cafes sipping a latte & perhaps eating Corn Fritters, a frequent weekend treat. Or why I'm not across the road with my friend AJ critiquing all the outfits at the Faux Organic Markets. Or why I'm not rummaging through the racks at 'BednobsEtc'.

The answer is:

1. I've already done all that stuff except for the corn fritters which I am postponing because I am sampling Delayed Gratification as part of 'The Middleagedteacher Holiday Happiness Project'. So far, I'm not sure if putting off something good makes you feel happier in the long run. Like, leaving the best bits of food on your plate till last isn't necessarily going to make the Eating Experience better, is it?

2. I'm trying to Not Be a Slave to The Clock.

Look above at my new Bag which beautifully dovetails into 'The Double H Project' which is what I'm now going to call it.

(a) I love a New Bag. It always creates the illusion of a New Beginning, of Starting Over even if there isn't one in sight.

(b) It was a Gift. I love nothing more than a gift, although I've been told that giving is the same as receiving which may perhaps be right but I'm testing it out. Peter, the owner of 'Zinc', my totally favourite local cafe positioned right in the heart of Potts Point, the epicentre of Sydney Style, bought it back from a v. recent trip to Europe for me as well as a crucifix & a set of rosary beads from Notre Dame Cathedral. Was it an all-knowing Jesuit that said, 'Brainwash a child before the age of seven & you've got her for life' ?

The bag features The Joan Crawford Alphabet. E.G - 'A is for Axe', 'N is for Neuroses', 'R is for Rage'. Anyone who knows me knows that I love Joan Crawford & that I've modelled my eyebrows on her. The Ultimate Homarge.

I always expect that everyone knows who Joan was. Sadly, my expectations were not met earlier this week when I took the bag off to therapy to show St. Brendan, my All-Knowing Psychotherapist, at least I thought he was. He looked blank.

I wanted to scream at him, ' Well ,how the hell are you going to cure me if you don't know who Joan Crawford is?'

Instead, I smiled weakly & quietly murmured, 'No More Wire Coathangers'. And then he remembered.

Poor misunderstood Joan.

As part of 'The Double HP', I visited the Art Gallery yesterday with Trixie. We had a bumper of a time, doing all our favourite Gallery Things:

1. Drinking a latte at the cafe;

2. Visiting an exhibition where we picked out the artwork from each room that we'd most like to hang in our modest homes, size permitting. Yesterday was a show of Victorian Paintings, a subject of Particular Interest to both of us. My favourite was a large painting of a family of sheep, including lambs that were reclining on gravestones in a cemetery. Talk about cute.

Trixie's favourite was a portrait of a Redheaded Sneering Slattern.

3. Lunch back at the cafe.

4. Purchasing at the Gallery Shoppe. Trixie bought a Sherlock Holmes doll, part of

'The Unemployed Philosopher's Guild' range & I bought a perspex brooch of a vintage stiletto which will feature here soon.

5. Having a wardrobe photo taken next to a favourite Australian painting. This one is a self-portrait from twentieth century artist, Margaret Preston whose paintings & woodblocks of flowers & bushland I love & I may slavishly copy over the hols.

6. Taking a photo of a stylish woman at the cafe. I couldn't resist taking my camera out & quickly snapping this lady even though I was Mid-Mouthful. She had ocelot tights on & I was entranced by her Exciting Hemline.

Can't wait for another new episode of 'Doc Martin' tonite. Martin's ex-fiance, Louisa who is a peach now really really looks like one because she's six months pregnant. And his hateful old girlfriend has appeared. She has Seriously Nasty Hair that could perhaps be called a 'Quiff'.

Must cease typing as my hands are sore from aggressive boxing at Boot Camp on thursday. Hope its not arthritis instead.

A Child Who Has Grown Up

It's sunday evening & I'm attempting to Multi-Task.

I'm waiting for guests to arrive for my usual Sunday Night Dinner - my Great Pal Jenny, my step-son, Tyler & Dr. John, a v. old friend from Melbourne. I have roasted two chickens that were stuffed with lemon thyme, garlic & pine nuts. I have made my Signature Guacomole that I serve as a starter with strips of vegetables that I've noticed that no one eats, & crackers, which I've noticed that everyone eats.

It is now The Next Day & my attempts at Multi-Tasking failed. Well, actually I'm Technically Multi-Tasking again as I'm up in the school library with my Year 7 class. They are all sitting up like little Marmosets reading mainly books from The Twilight Series. Occasionally I look over at them. But mostly I type.

Today's Blog Entry is a Style Profile. If it's good enough for The Sartorialist, it's good enough for me.

My subject is called Anna. I have known her for many years & she lives next door to me. On saturday, she came over & I photographed her in my Hallway. If I was feeling Swish, I might call it My Foyer. It was Anna's suggestion that we photograph her there because she thought that her outfit would look good amongst all the trees in the Wallpaper Forest. I agree.

Anna says that she dresses like she did as a child. She spent her early years living in Paris. And on her last day there, her stylish mother took nine year-old Anna & her two sisters out shopping for Farewell Outfits. A white 'Cacherel' shirt, a Navy pleated skirt with gold buttons on either side of the waist & a navy blazer.

Ever since, that's been Anna's Dream Outfit. Perhaps not that Exact Outfit. But you get the idea.

At the time of that last Parisian shopping expedition, posters of Jane Birkin were plastered all over Paris. And Anna became mesmerized by them. She didn't know who the hell Jane Birkin was, but she knew she just loved her.

On hearing all of this, I immediately became excited. I started thinking of Jane Birkin in 'Blow Up' & all those other models in the film wearing Huge Hair & lollypop colours & Space Age Gowns, which of course is nothing like Anna's style.

And then I thought of Leslie Caron's outfits as a French Schoolgirl in 'Gigi'. They were wonderful. And perhaps slightly more Anna.

And Audrey Hepburn in 'Charade' wearing all those outfits by 'Givenchy'. That's probably slightly more Anna as well.

One of the great differences between My Style & Anna's is that she has always appreciated Classic Luxury or Quality. Like cashmere. And really classy black patent Roman sandals like the ones Jackie Kennedy Onassis wore during her Ugly Greek Shipping Magnate Period.

I never have. I've always been a Total Slave to Quantity Over Quality. Give me a whole truckload of cheap clothes anyday & I'll happily turn them into Landfill.

Until fairly recently, that is. Until I began only buying from thrift stores. But that's a whole other story.

Anna's wearing a wonderful pair of shiny black boots from 'Snotty Shoes'. You may or may not recall that it's a local shop that I occasionally photograph when it's shut. When it's open, I walk past with my nose in the air as if I don't notice that it exists.

See what I'm missing out on by Not Going Into the Shoppe? I just love that late-sixties way of spelling 'Shoppe'.

And her fab pleated dress is from 'Wheels & Doll Baby', which has been a favourite of such Rock Chicks as Debbie Harry who is another one of Anna's style influences.

I must stop now. Writing about another person who you actually know is v. tiring. I much prefer writing about myself for all the obvious reasons & writing down what you think someone has told you is hard. Say if I wasn't listening properly? I might have got it all wrong.

But before I go, I must say that I don't quite agree with Anna that she dresses as a child. I think she dresses like a child who has Grown Up.

You Never Know What's Going to Happen Next

About an hour ago, I was sitting on my cozy couch after a dinner of a dozen Pacific Oysters & a large salad watching the News on mute. Occasionally I would turn the sound on if I liked the look of the pictures. But mostly I didn't.

I felt too listless to write a blog entry, even though I was ever so slightly inspired by a story on 'Australian Story' last night about a young man, who after becoming a World Champion Paper Plane thrower & beating a nasty but ultimately benign brain tumour, had discovered the Secret of Happiness, which was, 'Just Do Fun Stuff'.

I must Make a List of things that I might consider fun. And then start doing them.

Anyway, I was on the couch & suddenly out the window I hear a Clarion Call from my youth. Led Zeppelin's 'Whole Lotta Love'. When I was sixteen, Victor Fraser sent me a Valentine with all the words written inside the card. Pity he wasn't a jock.

I became excited. And then remembered when I was trudging home from the supermarket I had noticed tents & lights & stuff being set up in the park across the street from my apartment.

I raced to the window & peered out. It was a Fashion Parade.

I quickly remembered Poor Old Annie Leibowitz, who I just read is Almost Bankrupt & about to lose the rights to all her negatives, before grabbing my camera & bolting out the door, into the lift, & out into the midst of the parade.

A kindly man offered me his spot near a bank of rather professional looking photographers who were all furiously snapping away with their gargantuan lens & flashes .

I felt silly. As if I had a Toy Camera that might have doubled as a water pistol. Or perhaps my old Kodak Instamatic.

But I didn't let it stop me as you can see.

The brand was called 'Love Chile'.

Keith Richards if he was a Woman crossed with Disney Hiawatha with Janis & Jack Daniels High Notes. Maybe a tiny touch of Bette Midler in 'The Rose'. Perhaps a whiff of Dreamcatcher Earrings.

I liked it. But I think that if you're old enough to remember the Look first time around, you shouldn't wear it this time around.

That's not my rule. Of course. But it kind of sounds sassy & smart. Just what I need right now.

The whole thing was over in about ten minutes max.

I put my Toy Camera back in it's case & raced back upstairs to my apartment feeling excited & Rather Smug. I bet no one else in the crowd lives as close as me, I thought.

So, You Never Know What's Going to Happen At Any Moment.

I haven't quite finished even though it's getting Dangerously Close to my Bedtime & I don't want to breach my curfew.

But just quickly on the Above Theme.

Last week, I ran into Tess, one of my Senior Students from the Class of 2008. She looked so fresh & alive & happy, such a contrast from her usual comatose appearance in my class last year. We chatted about her university course & how much she liked it.

This afternoon, as I was walking to class, a Year 12 student was waiting for me.

'Oh Ms, I just thought you'd like to know that Tess's father dropped dead yesterday. Tess was with him. They thought he just had a cold'.

Maybe it's time to start Majorly Making that list of Fun Stuff.

And another two things.

1 Darla - I'm wearing the Zebra pin tomorrow. I just love it.

2. Anna- I'm still really keen to photograph you in those boots & toy jeans.

3. Zizzi - thank you for your interest in S. Sluttiness. I plan to be S.Slutty tomorrow.

4. Janavi - everything looks wonderful pour tous. Definitely a keeper I'd say.

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.

Everyone Who is Not a Celebrity Should Have an Online Wardrobe Diary

Usually I'm not one for celebrating Anniversaries & I Absolutely Fear Birthdays. Or at least, The Old Me felt that way.

But now I'm The New Me, I'm loving every Milestone I can lug around.

So today I'm celebrating a Blogging Anniversary. But it's not mine. No no no. I let my One Year Anniversary on February 21 2009 quietly slip past. I was just too Aw Shucks & Shy to draw attention to it.

It's Sheila from Ephemera's blog anniversary. She, also was going to let it quietly slip by, but I wouldn't let her. 

So I sent Sheila some questions to answer & promised that I would blog her before going on my Two Week Blogging Holiday starting tomorrow, Good Friday. Such a perfect time to be going on a blog holiday. In Australia, Good Friday or Easter Friday, which may or may not be observed in other countries, certainly not China where I'm sure they hardly ever go on Holidays, is one of the Most Depressing Days of the Year. Everything is Shut, although Worried Retailers have been recently pressuring the government  to be allowed to open. But they said no. 

Good Friday in Sydney feels like everyone's at home watching Cecil B. deMille's 'King of Kings'  or 'The Passion of the Christ' or maybe 'The Life of Brian' on TV. I'm sure people are sulking because they're not allowed to shop.

Anyway, back to Sheila.

Look closely at the three photos posted above. Clearly, they are Not Me. And clearly, it's not my closet, but you wouldn't necessarily know this. 

One photo is Sheila's first wardrobe diary photo she posted. And another photo is Sheila's latest photo posted today. And I'm not going to tell you which one is which.

 Work that out for yourself.

 The middle photo is her  closet, which houses her amazing Tower of Power Shoe Collection & a giddying array of designer label outfits mostly bought Not at Full Price.

I was interested to find out that Sheila has had quite a long history as a writer, beginning with diaries from age 7. She accumulated 14,000 posts over five or six years on an online movie forum before moving to an online journal thingy which sounded like a wonderful way to develop your writer's voice, but perhaps a little lonely because people tended not to read much or comment. 

Sheila Shared, as opposed to Over-Shared, in her first post that she had lost sixty pounds in the previous year. No wonder she wanted to scream, 'Look at Me' by creating Ephemera!

Her Blogging Inspiration is Kasmira from whatiwore2day, who I know is an inspiration to many (including me) 

A couple of other Salient Points - Sheila says that posting wardrobe pics has definitely improved her posture & given her a more accurate Whole Body image of herself. 

Clearly, everyone in the world who is Not a Celebrity should have an Online Wardrobe Diary. The World would be a better place if we all had One.

Keep Blogging Sheila!

Anarchy Heaven

A night or two ago I went to a Lucinda Williams concert. It was thrilling. For a number of reasons which I'll walk you through............

Oh, by the way, today was the end of Term 1 & the beginning of my two & a half weeks holiday.

So, in celebration, I am going to Set My Sentences Free even more than I normally do. I may start a sentence mid-sentence & maybe even finish it mid-sentence. I may attempt to write in the style of Virginia Woolf or Agatha Christie or Alice Walker. Famous Literary Characters, like for instance, Blanche duBois may make Guest Appearances & pose for Wardrobe Remix. 

 Sounds like Anarchy Heaven. 

But I just remembered that on friday I am going on a two week Blogging Holiday. So that means that I've only got a couple of posts to do this. 

Better Start Pronto.......

1. It was a Christmas Gift from Peter & Nigel who own my local cafe, 'Zinc'.

2. We had front row seats.

3. Lucinda is six weeks older than me.

4. It was a chance to dress in my new Slightly Slutty way.

Isn't this exciting? Are you following me? I hope so.

When Lucinda first came out I was mildly shocked & disappointed. Not that I expected  her to look like Kylie Minogue or Madonna or even Dolly Parton.

  I took one look at her Last Century Rock Chick Standard Outfit & instantly wanted more. In fact I wanted frequent Costume Changes - a Delta Airlines Flight Attendant, a Middle Ranking Executive in a navy suit & pearls, HM Queen Elizabeth & maybe Miss Peggy Lee for the Encores. 

But of course Lucinda doggedly kept the same outfit on for the whole two hours.

 I am now going to say something Quite Harsh: It looked like she made up the outfit about twenty years ago & in the intervening years hadn't bothered to check in the mirror to see that she had grown a Medium Muffin Top. If you don't believe me, look at the photo.

Now I'm going to Attempt a Save: I admired Lucinda's Muffin Top. Mind you, I wouldn't like to have one myself. 

But..... It in no way detracted from her Absolutely Amazing Voice &  Total Mastery of the stage.

And I just love that she's my age & at such a Creative Peak & everyone is madly applauding her & thinking she's fab & wonderful & not ready for the Seniors Card. Or if she is, she just uses it to get free transport & other discounts & still keeps on rockin

I Long to Be a Woman Who Chose Her Own Battles

I thought it was Enough to just post this Wonderful Painting of a Woman with Hair Horns. I also liked the title I made up to go with it. But apparently it's Not Enough. It's Never Enough.

I just love the Concept of Horns. I would not like to grow any myself. But I do like the idea of turning your hair into them.

Why horns, you may ask? I'm not sure. Maybe they signify gutsiness. You know, like Don't Mess with Me.

Doris Day in 'The Pyjama Game,' Katherine Hepburn in 'The African Queen', Queen Latifah in 'Chicago' & perhaps Dear Doris again in 'Calamity Jane'. These were suggestions made to me by my colleagues when I asked them about Gutsy Women. Someone suggested Scarlett O'Hara. And I suppose she is pretty gutsy. In fact, probably the Gutsiest of them All. But I couldn't bear to put her on my list because I just Loathe 'Gone with the Wind'. It's just so overblown.

If you've got any suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

What I Would Wear to the Oscars

In an effort to keep abreast of the times , I've been selflessly trawling through yesterday's Oscar Red Carpet pictures as well as watching the 'E' Channel. 

Pretty Heavy Duty, eh?

I'm sure this isn't news to you, but the 'E' channel is Totally Excremental, although while watching I did catch a tiny sound byte from Heidi Klum that almost, but not quite, made the whole experience worthwhile.  

The Poor Thing was forced to wear a Couture Gown that had a giant steel-plated bow growing out of one side of it which made her long limo drive into the Kodak Theatre absolute torture because she had to 'only sit on one Butt Cheek'.

Rarely have I ever heard the term 'Butt Cheek' used by anyone outside of an Aerobics Instructor at a gym.

I'm sure many of the other Couture Wearers also suffered for their Couture. If they didn't, it looked like they did. Not that I'm Envious or Jealous or Resentful or Toady . I couldn't think of anything worse than trudging down the street with a giant fishtail trailing behind me, catching all the cigarette butts in its path. Isn't that what Anne Hathaway was wearing? 

My favourite look was The Toilet Roll Holder Gown, which owes a great Style Debt to Little Bo Peep. I think the two best in that catagory were Miley Cyrus & Sarah Jessica Parker, although I'm sure there were many other inspirational examples.

And now to Meryl Streep, a catagory all on her own. I have always found wearing Lite Elephant a challenge. And I pride myself on having dear Meryl's colouring. So, Bravo Meryl for daring to wear it. Of course commentators roundly praised her for sensibly wearing sleeves to cover up her, what my last year's Senior Class used to call, 'Oobadoobas'.

 BTW, I am becoming increasingly fascinated by mine. Even though I spend some hours every week in 'Downward Facing Dog' before moving to 'Plank' Pose, the skin around my burgeoning muscles is becoming more & more crepe-like or even frilly. Aging can be fun.

Sophia Loren, pictured air-kissing Meryl, looked like a long-sleeved Coffee Scroll. I wonder if Coffee Scroll translates into other Western Cultures like American? In case it doesn't, its a cake that looks like coffee if it was a cake.

And finally we get to Ethel Merman, a woman who has haunted me for my entire life. I thought this sleeveless gown that she wore in some film would look good on me if I ever went to The Oscars, even though it wouldn't cover up my 'Oobadoobas'.

Older Women Looking Great with Long Hair

In my last post I made a Rather Broad Sweeping Statement about how women over a certain age, say 30, shouldn't wear hair past their shoulders.  This kind of remark belongs in the back of  The Wardrobe, along with Blue & Green Should Never Be Seen & something about the Seasonal wearing of white shoes. 

One of my favourite online friends who is a Definite Fashionista dropped me a line & gently reminded me that in fact, she has hair past her shoulders & is over 30.

I'm Nothing if Not Insulting. And perhaps not v. observant either. 

Anyway, I was really making a snide remark about Sherry Argov, the author of 'Why Men Marry Bitches'. Not that I've got anything against Dear Sherry, who's book I found slightly uncomfortable because I recognised my Needy Little Self, if not on every page, but on quite a few of them. 

Sherry's hair has Lady Godiva references, which I'm sure attracts droves of men to her little honeypot. I must stop this immediately. I'm being Undignified.

Back to me. 

Yesterday after school, I raced over to 'Just Cuts' & had a haircut. My hair had suddenly become dangerously close to skimming my shoulders & I wanted to avoid Any Hint of Hypocrisy. I love going to 'Just Cuts' because its a mere $25 if I don't have a shampoo which perfectly dovetails into My New Frugality.

I always sit down at the chair, the stylist asks 'How would you like it Love?' & I always say, 'Goldie Hawn'. She nods wisely & then for the next twenty minutes or so I become transported by her words into another world. Yesterday, she told me about the behaviour of her brother-in-law who uses an online dating service to target single mothers for sexual favours. He prefers them because they are so grateful for the attention that they don't complain about shoddy treatment & perhaps performance. Luckily, she's a good hairdresser.

How far I have strayed from My Original Topic!

Anyway, I started to think about Fabulous Women over 30 with  Long Hair & desperately tried to think of examples. First cab off the rank was Stevie Nicks. I half-heartedly googled her. But all her photos looked air-brushed. And you know what a stickler for Reality I am. 

Princess Anne, perhaps? Too much like a Nasty Adult in a Roald Dahl book. Anyway, I'm not sure if she's really got hair past her shoulders.

Then  in a magazine I came across a fawning profile of an Muscular Italian Stick Insect Fashionista called Anna Della Russo. She's the one in the first photo wearing the small snarl, or it it sneer?

 I became instantly entraced. I'm not exaggerating. I would so love to look like her. Or at least a part of me would. She works for Nippon Vogue or something & doesn't like 'Cheap clothes'. 

In an effort to emulate Anna, I visited 'Gucci' today & actually went inside. I was dangerously close to buying one of those dangly charm thingys that hang from handbags for $165. And then I considered buying a 'Messenger' bag for $500. But it was too daggy.  Luckily, all the big ticket bags had far too much Brassy Hardware hanging off them. I'm sure Anna wouldn't be caught dead carrying one of those.

The second picture is of course is Patti Smith. I have never never been hip enough to listen, let alone appreciate the music of Patti Smith. But I do appreciate her general appearance. She is five foot eight, unless she's shrunk in later life. I am five foot three & always wanted to be tall. 

Anyway, I think Patti looks great with long hair & I don't even mind the grey.

If you can come up with any examples of Older Women looking great with Long Hair, I'd love it

Which of Henry the Eighth's Wives do I Most Resemble?

This is not a trick question. And it is one that most of you reading this would certainly NOT be able to answer.

I can barely answer it myself.

But I was pondering on it this morning in the staffroom while I was trying to think of an alternative heading to 'Being Dumped'. As I explained in my last post, I'm moving out of that phase & into another one. And I want to come up a new label.

I'm not sure why I thought of dear Henry. I've never been interested in him & he really doesn't have much in common with Mr. Ex-Middleaged. In fact, on the eve of his 55th birthday which  happens to be today, Mr. Ex has just lost ten kilos, a feat that Henry never hoped nor perhaps WANTED to achieve. 

Anyway, I asked  my Learned Colleagues which of Henry's wives I most resembled. 

The Duchess, who is The Font of All Knowledge both Great & Small immediately said, 'Anne of Cleves'.

'Why so?' I asked.

'Well, she got to keep her head which was more than can be said for her successor, Katherine Howard. And she also kept her heart because Henry never bothered living with her because he thought she was too ugly. He thought she looked like some kind of Mare.'

So far there's no similarity that I can spot.

But then The Duchess said that Henry generously gave her all kinds of wonderful Real Estate & she spent loads of dough on Expensive Gowns & she was happy & wonderful to everyone including Henry's children. Her only vices were a love of ale & gambling.

Yes! That's Me!  

But I still want to come up with a new label.

Fashion Should Be Funny

My Best Friend Marge is visiting Sydney from California. We went to school together right from Grade 4. I was originally attracted to her for many reasons, but the clincher was that I fell in love with a picture of a sailing ship floating in a deep blue sea that she painted in Grade 5.  From then on, I knew I wanted us to be friends for Life. That was in 1963.

This picture is definitely odd. We've both got on quite an assortment of clothes which is partly due to the changeable Spring weather. 

Of course, I'm dying to have a rant about my wardrobe choices. But I suppose I should  quickly mention that Marge is wearing a complete 'Anthropologie' outfit, including the shoes. She looks great & 'Anthro' is our favourite shop. 

But Back to Me.

One of the advantages of Relentless Self-Examination Through Photography is the opportunity to critique your everyday outfits. If I hadn't had this Completely Thrifted Outfit photographed I might never have realised how truly awful it is. But when I put it on this morning, I thought it was a Triumph of Pattern Mixing. The shirt was perhaps from the v. early nineties & came with fairly bulbous shoulder pads that I had a devil of a job cutting out before I put it on . I congratulated myself on how cleverly I had selected the faux reptilian skin skirt that accentuated the brown highlights in the shirt. Wrong. 

It looks like a Blind Person selected the outfit or I had my eyes closed when I opened my wardrobe. Or I was drunk.

And I've just got to stop wearing those little Kindergardenesque Sockettes! 

I know this sounds Very Negative. You might get the impression that I'm becoming a Crotchety Old Crone. 

Nothing of the Sort! I regard Wardrobe Selection as an amusing game that One Mustn't Take Too Seriously. It's not like Parenting, or Negotiating High Level Peace Talks or Going for President. 

In the words of one of my Great Role Models, Simon Doonan, the world famous Window Dresser, 'Fashion should be Funny'.

The Goddess, Miss Lonely Hearts or the Wise-Cracking Dwarf?

Yesterday's post really wanted to be about Hitchcock's 'Rear Window', but I wouldn't allow it. I made an Executive Decision that I wanted it to be today's post, & here it is.

See, there's one part of my life that I have at least a semblance of control over.

I won't go on too much about the plot, or the character played by James Stewart, or the fact that the film was shot on one enormous sound stage on the Paramount lot in Los Angeles, & was the largest set of any film that had ever been made.

What I'm really interested in is The 'Rear Window' Women & which of these women most resembles me.

Of course I would like to think that Grace Kelly, who plays the role of Lisa Fremont, beautiful career woman & socialite , is most like me. The hair colour is almost identical to mine & I certainly would have her hair style &  outfits if I was an adult in the fifties. And her reading material is right up my alley. 

Look at Grace wearing those Prim White Gloves. And the white hat with the fascinator. And the huge pearl charm bracelet. I would never wear the gloves, partly because I have a strict Wardrobe Rule that forbids me from wearing white clothes or accessories because I'm far too grubby. And I wouldn't wear the fascinator because they're now worn by young Wannabe Slurry Socialites  at  Important Horse Races, like the Spring Carnival . But I certainly would wear the charm bracelet. 

But the truth is, I'm probably more like 'Miss Lonely Hearts' in the next photo. I certainly feel a bit like her at the moment. This poor lady lived in the apartment across from James Stewart's & he & Grace spend quite a bit of time observing her antics, which included having dinner with an Imaginary Beau, slurping a whole lot of hard liquor & then flinging herself on the sofa & sobbing uncontrollably. 

 I, of course would never behave like that, but I might in a Parallel Universe.

And then there's Thelma Ritter, who plays a hard-boiled, but wise & wise-cracking nurse who gives daily massages to poor invalid James. Thelma, who also had a small but memorable role as Bette Davis' maid in 'All About Eve', is one of my favourite character actresses. But she gets blown away by Grace's Regal Stature in that photo. That's the problem with us Short People. We're always being knocked off the stage by Tall People. I shouldn't go on too much about this because my Best Friend Marge is miles taller than me & it doesn't make me feel bad at all. But then again she doesn't look like Grace Kelly. Hope that didn't sound too mean.

Talking of Grace again, I once saw her. It was 1974 & I was a 21 year old excitable girl driving a little Mini Minor Van with another 21 year old excitable girl around Europe. We stopped off at Monaco &  swung by the exclusive Sporting Club de Monaco where Her Serene Highness, as Grace then was, was attending some Gala with the rest of her Tragic Family. We waited outside the Club talking to her chauffeur  until finally the whole family trooped out at 3am. I seem to remember that Grace had on a billowing Grecian-style evening dress & her hair had a huge fake plait across the crown. She looked like a Goddess. I felt underdressed.

Young Me

 

After the excitement of posting Old & Young Bernadetta Barzini in my last post, I decided to post a picture of Young Me.
The picture was taken in 1983 in a strange little apartment in 'Hell's Kitchen' in New York, that was rented by Robyn, an independent Australian woman who at the time was trying to make films. I remember not being able to open the front door of the building as it was like a bank vault. It was then that I realised that I wasn't tough enough to live in New York.
All the furniture in the place was from the street, but it was quite comfortable. I'm sitting back on the couch with her cat, Annie. I'm trying to look sophisticated as my boyfriend & I were about to go out to a nightclub called 'The Red Parrot' & see the great John Waters' star, Divine perform.
I'm still wearing red tight & boots & thrift clothes.

"Never Fear Being Vulgar, Just Boring"

I've always loved Diana Vreeland, or at least I've loved the Idea of Diana Vreeland. She's the woman in the first photo & also the person who made up the title of today's post - I'm just channelling her!
Magazines are always dragging her & her famous sayings out when they've got nothing to say themselves, which is quite frequently. Probably her most famous saying is 'shocking pink is the navy blue of India' which really isn't as interesting as 'Elegance is Refusal' or 'People who eat White Bread have no dreams'.
I, too, would like to make up a whole lot of Iconic Sayings that years from now people will be sagely nodding their heads over or having a quiet chuckle . God knows I've tried, but usually I end up sounding like an even worse version of Forrest Gump- 'Life's like a box of chocolates, only I'm on a diet'. Lame but sadly true.
Talking of me, here's some more photos of me & my outfits & homemade necklaces worn on the job. Everyday one of my Year 12 students, 'The Wise Twin', takes my photo at the end of class so I can post it on flickr's wardrobe remix. If she's learnt nothing else from me, she's learned how to take a half-decent photo, a skill that will serve her well when she very soon ventures out into the Big Wide World. I've also put a little detail shot of one of my new batch of Endangered Animal Necklaces. Today's one is 'The Lonely Rhino'.
I'd like to think that Diana Vreeland would approve of my outfit, but it's not likely as she's dead. But even if she were alive, I doubt it as she also said, 'What do I think about the way most people dress? Most people are not something one thinks about'.

Back to the Board

The Not the Queen's Real Birthday Long Weekend is over & I'm back at the whiteboard. It's looking a little fuzzy at the moment. I'm longing to channel the crisp clarity of Our Miss Brooks,another one of my favourite early sit-coms starring yet another one of my favourite Underrated Stars of the Past, Eve Arden. Poor old Eve - she was so fabulous in tiny roles playing World Weary Wise-cracking Women (how's that for alliteration - can't you tell that I've just come from the classroom?) I never felt there was enough of her on the screen. I wonder how she felt about always being pushed aside by Joan Crawford & the Other Dames?

The Duchess of Windsor's Wild Animals.

In my view, there are two types of people: people who are fans & people who are not fans. I fall into the first catagory. When I admire something, I automatically become a fan. My first outward demonstration of fanhood was in 1964 when, aged 11, I covered my bedroom walls with hundreds of pictures of The Beatles, mainly John, who I imagined marrying some day. Thank God I didn't because now I'd be a widow.
I have always been a fan of The Duchess of Windsor (top photo). The Duchess was enormously stylish & Cartier made all these wonderful wild animal brooches for her, the most famous being The Panther brooch (next photo). She famously said, "You can never be too rich or too thin". Unfortunately, I am neither, so am reduced to buying v. cheap copies of her wild animals at junk shops & markets. I've got a small collection now - an elephant brooch & two panthers that I wear mainly in winter on coat lapels. I'm sure the Duchess would approve. I've photographed them on top of pages from vintage World War 2 British Vogue Magazines that Mr. Middleaged bought in an expensive shop in London recently.