Owl and the Grapes

You're The One For Me, Fatty

2009-11-13T11:40:00.001+11:00

I wrote this article about Gemma Ward's retirement from modelling for 2threads a few days ago and, to celebrate/lament the ending of my internship today, I'm posting it here. Enjoy (or not, if you're a Gemma fan).

The possibility of Gemma Ward’s retirement from modelling has been looming dangerously in the fashion air like a giant fluffy pair of highly unstylish neon legwarmers for some time now. Rumours on the subject have ranged from the plausible to obscene: That she was to quit modelling in pursuit of Hollywood, that the devastation of her dear friend (and supposed lover), Heath Ledger, led her to depression/emotional eating, forcing her to quit, that she will quit Prada and the like in favour of plus sized modelling (can you spot the obscene one?). Finally however, that silly old highly excitable rumour mill can give up the speculations and head back to bed because Gemma Ward has officially announced through her agent that she has no plans to dive back into the modelling world. It’s over, folks. Gemma Ward is quitting the modelling industry. And it’s probably for the best. Hell, if I had half the amount of attention on my thighs as she does, I’d surely be in a straight jacket by now, rocking myself to sleep on an empty stomach.

Unsurprisingly, given the media’s obsession with weight, she regularly makes headlines for being either far too skinny or too ‘fat’; anorexic or a ‘roll model’. International fashion blog, Bryan Boy, hasn’t helped the publicity epidemic; whilst perhaps not saying anything particularly cruel himself (apart from that she could “Give Crystal Renn a run for her money,”) many commentors on his website have been vicious on being presented with paparazzi photos of the 22 year old sporting her new body. Insults include such comments as "homegurl needs a dose of jenny craig and were good to go." Whilst of course it’s clearly something only an idiot would say (if the subject matter wasn’t a clear enough indicator for you, you can tell by the terrible spelling and grammer), such remarks have – at least in part – been blamed for Gemma Ward's decision. Gracing the cover of Vogue for the first time at the tender age of 16 (alongside Gisele Bundchen, Natalia Vodianova and Karen Elson), it shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone that she’s put on a little weight in the last few years: It’s called puberty y’all. In the end, she looks healthy and rather than speculating on the whys, we should consider and celebrate the highlights of the wide-eyed Australian talent’s career.

The Perth-born beauty was originally discovered via Australian television series Search for a Supermodel. Remarkably, she didn’t make it into the finals but thanks to the small amount of publicity she received through the show, before long, she was signed to Vivien’s Model Management. Chris Fox (from Viven’s) remarked that her first impressions of the blonde haired, green eyed young lady were that she was simply “surreal, beautiful, very European, wide-set eyes, angelic, not a skerrick of makeup." Soon, with the help of Fox, Ward was strutting her stuff down Australian runways and a household name (in Australia). Within a year, the soon-to-be-supermodel signed to IMG and was plastered over magazines the world over. She made her runway debut at the Spring Prada show in Milan, all the while garnering masses attention due to her “alien” and “otherworldly” look. In July, 2007, she was named one of the highest paid models, according to Forbes (ranked #10).

Ward has been photographed by some of the best, including the Vogue regular Steven Meisel. In 2006, she played Grace Kelly to George Clooney’s Cary Grant in a Vanity Fair shoot, dressed to the hilt in old Hollywood glamour. She’s modelled for Valentino, Calvin Klein and Prada and stalked the most prestigious runways. The ethereal creature can lay claim to being on over 30 Vogue covers, i-D, W, Time Magazine’s Style & Design issue and Numero, to name just a few.

More recently, Ward starred in films The Stranger and Black Balloon alongside Liv Tyler and the highly respected Australian actress Toni Collette. Considering her highly successful crossover to film, it makes perfect sense for her to give up modelling in favour of a more rewarding (though perhaps not monetarily) career. Although, if she does decide to return to modelling, let’s hope that she’s welcomed with open arms because, despite what crap Lagerfeld and the like might feed us, the skin and bone phenomenon is passé. And truly? If you think Doutzen Kroes, Lara Stone or Gemma Ward are fat, you’re the one who needs a straight jacket.

Good Stuff

2009-11-12T11:55:00.002+11:00

Check out the good stuff I've been doing when not doing things here (which is, let's be honest, most of the time). Yes, whilst this blog might feel a little abandoned at the moment, I've been typin' to the point of callouses on behalf of 2threads and This Way In.

I wrote my first (!) album review. And it was of none other than the lovely local quintet Bridezilla's long awaited debut. AND, the folk at Modular quoted me in Bridezilla's press release.

Want to give harnesses and corsets a go this Spring but don't want to end up looking like Jessica Simpson gone, well, *even* more wrong? The outerwear as underwear trend is one that's incredibly flexible (which you wouldn't think, given that they're made outta whale bone, wires and leather), just check out my guide on how to wear these adaptable accessories.

When you pour three trends into the one accessory what should result is a fashionable, on trend item that'll be as good as glued to your pretty thighs for the next three months. Unfortunately, this was not the case for Lady GaGa.

Oh, and I got interviewed by Jenna Black (from 2threads) about the merits of interning.

Also, check out my photos from last week's preview of the Britpop Photo Exhibition at the Abercrombie: An amazing collection of photos of British live acts from photographers Daniel Boud, Graham Denholm and Mark Metcalfe. Want a sample? Oh, okay:

I Forgot

2009-11-11T11:58:00.000+11:00

The man and I held another Vintage and Retro sale last weekend and it was a massive bloomin' success. I only failed on one account: I totally forgot to tell all you lovely readers about it - I know, it's an epic fail, isn't it? Best sign up to the newsletter (email me at owlandthegrapes@gmail.com with 'Subscribe' in the subject line) or join our facebook group to ensure this never, ever happens again. Hopefully though, if you're a Sydney kid, you heard about it anyway. We were featured everywhere from uber cool newsletter Two Thousand to independent radio station FBi (or so my friend Guy says). And honestly? It's probably for the best that I didn't tell you because if it had been any more packed on Saturday I think the place would have burst. And then we'd never be able to have another sale again. So really, I did the right thing. Alas, I feel bad so, to make up for my abandonment, I will tell you well in advance (ie now) that the next sale will be on the 12th and 13th of December. If you play on my guilt enough I might even give you a discount on the weekend. Which, given how cheap everything already is, basically means I'm offering to GIVE you a heap of awesome clothes. How can you be angry with me after that? I'll tell you: You can't.

Here are some of the man's photos from the weekend:

Sweetest dog ever. I offered his Mum a swap: Clothes for dog. She wasn't too keen.

It was 7-Eleven Day. This meant free slurpees for everyone. I had two (or maybe it was three?) and then hit a major slurpee low mid afternoon. I'm pretty sure I had the sugar shakes. Amazing.

Millie threatened to jump out the window because someone stepped on her tail. It was pretty traumatising. She's okay now though, thanks for asking.

Monkey and the BrownMan

2009-11-04T09:34:00.003+11:00

Last week, 2threads sent me behind the scenes on a fashion shoot in the heart of Newtown with Sydney label Monkey and The BrownMan. I took way too many photos of the photographer taking photos, assisted where possible and then wrote an article about it afterward for the 2threads site. Now, I'm reposting it here, because I'm not feeling very creative today. Summary enough? Yes, I think so. Article follows:

What does Monkey and the BrownMan mean? A fair enquiry, one might think, given the obscurity of the brand name. “Well, that is a good question” agreed Stacey Brown, Creative Director of the label, illusively. Entertainingly, this was, more or less, the end of the conversation. Further investigation was met with similarly ambiguous replies. So, whilst the meaning of it all remains a secret for now, shared between Stacey and her partner in life and business Chris Brown, I can tell you what they do. Monkey and the BrownMan design simple, comfortable and attractive T-shirts using high quality, certified organic cotton. Even better, it’s all ethically sourced and locally manufactured. An avid surfer, and often disposed to wearing his own designs, it seems Chris begun the business designing with himself in mind. Luckily for us, he’s a man with taste and his T-shirts echo the desires of many. In fact, there's a whole jungle of surfing, stylish ladies and gentlemen out there vying for Monkey and the Brownman’s limited edition wares.

However, Monkey and the BrownMan is much more than just another T-shirt brand. Chris and Stacey are personable, lively creatures whose inspirations and interests are as varied as there are colours in the spectrum. Stacey enthusiastically recounts to us a recent venture to Paris, where she completed a month long design course. Meanwhile, when Chris starts raving about the ‘amazing’ film he recently watched called Death Race 2000, I would be lying if I said there weren’t a few giggles in the room. The film is set in the year 2000, which, by ‘70s standards, roughly translates to lots of people (one of which is none other than Sylvester Stallone) in fantastical black leather jumpsuits and some very low fi graphics. The title is pretty self explanatory; the plot revolves around a transcontinental race in which contestants kill people for points. Frankenstein (David Carradine) apparently exclaims at one point: "You want to make love to me because I drive the Monster and wear this costume". Sounds pretty unbelievable, right? This being typical of the kind of entertainment Chris and Stacey enjoy in their downtime, it’s clear that they’re not the types to be swept up by the latest trends or blockbusters. This may serve as an analogy for their work; Monkey and the BrownMan is a label content to do it’s own thing, regardless of what’s in Vogue.

It was glaringly obvious, whilst assisting on their most recent shoot, why Monkey and the BrownMan are so quickly gaining popularity; not only down under, but on the overseas market as well. Unusually for a fashion shoot, there was no chaos, no skeletons sipping on Diet Coke and no sleazy photographer (in fact, it was suggested by talented photographer Brad Mawby that I was the sleazy one, due to my apparently overzealous adjusting of the model’s clothing). Rather, the rail of T-shirts was wheeled by Stacey and I through the backstreets of Newtown to an old church where the model, Khan Porter, unzipped his bag to reveal a collection of his jeans from home. Whilst the direction of the shoot was crystal, all input was invited, and even Khan steered the shoot on several occasions. Stacey and I took turns holding the reflector whilst Brad snapped away. Afterwards, large lunches were consumed in a cafe downstairs from Monkey and the BrownMan's base and Khan revealed his unhealthy appetite and penchant for real Coke - whilst I sipped on my Diet Coke.

The team at Monkey and the BrownMan have their client base very clearly in mind: A client base that Khan embodied perfectly. They’re also intent on staying true to that client base who, likewise, seem devoted to the brand (and who wouldn’t be?), because, whilst there might be some obscurity when it comes to their brand name, there’s no uncertainty as to what Monkey and the BrownMan do and there are certainly no skeletons in their closet when it comes to sourcing and manufacturing. Though, speaking of skeletons, a little birdy on site told me that there might be a horror film of their own, with models clad in Monkey and the BrownMan apparel, in the works.

For more behind the scenes shots, check out the album here.
You can purchase and browse Monkey and the BrownMan's awesomeness here.
You can see Brad's work here and to book Khan, find him here.

SPAM

2009-10-28T10:03:00.005+11:00

I received an email yesterday from a girl called Cynthia who exclaimed that my fashion articles for 2threads touch her in her spirit. Creepy? Yes. Am I making this up? No. In all honesty, it was, in all probability (ok, definitely), spam and I'm pretty sure she's actually a robot but I still took some joy in the wording of her (its?) email. She ended with this quote: "Remeber the distance or colour does not matter but love and concern matters alot in life." Which I'm pretty sure means that she's calling me a racist for thinking her a spammer. Which I'm totally not... I'm just a... robotist?

Last week in owllywood*:

I reviewed the film An Education, a surprisingly brilliant movie about a 16 year old schoolgirl's relationship with a playboy twice her age. Trust me, it's much better than the average coming-of-age/love story/shit that's come out this year.This is also my first and very possibly last ever film review.

Because I love you (and because I'm kind of awful at keeping secrets), here's my guide to shopping for vintage dresses on eBay - including my top ten most affordable eBay stores.

If you haven’t noticed the cool kids wearing them on the streets recently, you've surely been living in a barn (geddit? Like Lagerfeld!) Whether you juxtapose them with frilly dresses or do it Madonna style, adorn your hands with fingerless leather gloves this Spring.

*I totally stole this from my friend Olly, who, I only noticed last night, has a photograph of the Hollywood sign on his door. Only, rather than Hollywood, it reads 'ollywood'. Amazing. It's unfortunate it doesn't work as well with 'owl'.

Lying Around (with hobos)

2009-10-22T21:33:00.002+11:00

This weekend has been a weekend of rest. Apart from going shopping for the next Vintage & Retro Sale (which is quickly approaching), I've spent the entire weekend, well, lying around. Despite my tasks thus far being insanely enjoyable/easy, working full time is tough. Particularly when your day to day routine involves walking through the dodgier parts of Surry Hills (ie more or less where I live). On Thursday afternoon, for instance, I plonked myself down on a park bench around the corner from the office, my intention being to drink the coffee I had just bought and to continue my reading of Breakfast at Tiffany's. Typically with a container of cous cous, this is how I usually spend my lunch breaks. Perhaps ten minutes into my break, a (presumably) homeless man walked up to me and jovially muttered something incomprehensible through a mouth full of bacon and egg roll. As is my nature when approached by a stranger, even when being asked directions, I uttered the stock response: No. In hindsight however, it seems he asked me something along the lines of: 'You're my sister. Did you know that we're family?' Because he then sits down next to me and proceeds to inform me that everyone in the whole wide world is descended from the same two people: Yes, none other than Mr. Adam and Mrs. Eve. I gulped down the rest of my rather awful and oversized coffee (no, it wasn't Starbucks, though it might as well have been) as I listened to this man tell be that, though he was forty-two, he only discovered the bible last week. He expressed his bafflement that the church didn't publicise the 'fact' that we're all relatives more, and his sadness that he didn't discover it earlier. "Because before, I probably would have come up to you and asked you for *sex* or something. But you're my sister, and I shouldn't be having sex with my sister." For the hard of hearing, let me repeat that: HE TOTALLY THOUGHT WE WOULD HAVE HAD SEX, WERE I NOT HIS SISTER. He offered me some of his half-eaten bacon and egg roll before telling me to say hi to my Mum and Dad and tell them that we'll all catch up soon. As I was leaving, slowly and cautiously, he hugged me tightly and KISSED ME ON THE NECK. Suffice to say, on returning from my lunch break, I spent like, four hours in the bathroom vigorously soaping my hands and neck. Ah, okay, I'm being harsh, aren't I? Because well meaning hobos (as this one) are alright. Just don't let them have sex with you/kiss you. You might catch cancer.

In less cancerous news, check out some recent snaps I took for 2threads:

Radio National iTunes Launch

Street Style: Surry Hills and Cassette Kids Gig

P.S. I just discovered I have 69 blogger followers and I totally giggled. Yes, I'm immature. But I have read the Bible, so I'm *allowed* to make jokes about sex. It's not like I'm gonna go asking my 69 followers to have sex with me. Although, if I offered them bacon and egg roll I'm sure they would totally be up for it. Oh, and actually, when I say I've 'read' the Bible? I mean four or five pages. Maybe less.

P.P.S. You know how I kind of made fun of the Bible/God? I take it back. All of it. Because, obviously, someone's fucking with me here.

WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS? Make this stop and I promise I won't go ahead with trying to seduce my readers. Or make any jokes about sex ever again. I just saw this guy's photostream anyway and I'm pretty sure I'm SCARRED. For life.

Nine to Five

2009-10-20T22:43:00.000+11:00

As of yesterday I am officially interning at 2threads. The folk there are lovely and thus far my job duties have included nothing but writing a few short articles on the fashion world, snapping the stylish folk around Surry Hills, attending a Cassette Kids gig in Circular Quay and having (oh my, what effort) to take photos of the beautiful lead singer Katrina, amongst others in attendance. All in all, working at 2threads is certainly the best job I've ever had, pay or no pay.

I've posted not one, not two but THREE whole articles on the website already. Granted, they were short, but nonetheless totally awesome. Not that the ladies at 2threads would know, because no one even wanted to proof read the articles before they were published. Don't get me wrong though - this is definitely a good thing, as I did kind of talk about how I reckon Hitler's a babe and, in all honesty, I don't think that's the kind of shit you're supposed to be rambling about on your first day. Check out the fruits of my free labour below.

The easiest DIY you'll ever attempt: Good ol' bum-cheek-exposing denim shorts that Daisy Duke would be proud of.

I'm totally digging the latest trend in Spring footwear: Gladiator sandals for men. Please don't throw rocks at me.

Remember velvet? That gothic, crushed, horrible and unflattering fabric? Well, thanks to Topshop, the velvet dress has made a comeback. But boy, has it changed.

Can You See Me

2009-10-14T16:00:00.003+11:00

CHECK ME OUT ON THE AMERICAN APPAREL SITE. I didn't even have to get my boobies out. Neither did I have to sleep with anyone or pose provocatively. This is probably why I'm such a tiny feature on the page. Still, we all win really: I get to go "HEY! Check me out! I'm on the AA website." And you don't have to be subjected to seeing me half naked and/or sleeping with me. In fact, I might possibly be the most fully clothed person to ever appear on the site. Oh wait, Susie's already beaten me in her coat. Better luck next time.

God! Show Me Magic

2009-10-13T12:26:00.005+11:00

You see that chick on the far left in the below photograph? The one who, by some incredible coincidence, was standing just one row in front of me at a Jamie T gig we went to a few weeks ago? SHE'S WEARING A BOW ON HER HEAD THAT I HAND-SEWED AND SOLD AT OUR SEPTEMBER MARKET. Awesome? Only a little bit... GOTCHA! Seriously? It's probably the most awesome thing to ever happen to anyone.

It has to be said however, that she took my floral bow off half way through the gig to place upon her head a sailor's hat. Which she, later that evening, removed to replace with a headband. So, you know, it could just be that she was a complete head wear slut and she didn't actually like my bow at all. It could just be that my bow was one of hundreds that day. But, just like getting down and dirty with an ol' weathered prostitute, just because she's a head wear slut doesn't make my five minutes of loving any less awesome.

Does anyone else have photos of leading ladies/grumbling gentlemen in our vintage/retro/handmade wears? Email me at owlandthegrapes at gmail with photos of you, friends and/or strangers rocking shit bought from one of our Vintage & Retro Sale weekends and I might even feature you here, on the blog. I promise I won't call you a slut. And if I do (because I have been known to lie, though the remainder of this sentence is entirely sincere), believe me when I say that I mean it in the most affectionate way possible.

Disclaimer: The aforementioned 'ol' weathered prostitute' is purely a figment of my imagination.

I Can See Clearly Now

2009-10-08T22:24:00.008+11:00

The sun is OUT again! Well, yes, there is the whole gail force winds thing but unless you're on a ferry/anywhere unsheltered, who the fuck cares? It's blue outside!

In other news, I had my hair cut and dyed on Tuesday. This is far more thrilling news than it might seem. Actually, no, it's not really.

Our Vintage & Retro Sale is THIS WEEKEND! I know I haven't been able to shut up about it but I'm even more excited than usual. Maybe I'm just in an excitable mood this week. Or maybe it's because our stock this month is unbelievably good. Like, mind blowingly good. Sydneysiders, you simply must come along. If you're lucky, and flatter my website/writing/incredible good looks enough, I might even give you a bloggy discount. AND, we'll be open an hour longer either end on Saturday and an hour earlier on Sunday morning so you'll have even more time than usual to check out our racks (not in a dirty kind of way). Here are some more photos of me wearing some of said unbelievably good stock. I'll also be selling some super cool cassette tape necklaces like the one in the below photos for a miniscule four dollars. Click for more detail.

The glasses are a present from my lovely housemate Dom, the awesome red jacket and top are both from Anglicare (pay-by-the-kilo op shop), leggings from god knows where, the cassette necklace I made myself, the watch from Paddys market (actually my birthday present from Bobby) and the shoes you should all know by now. Man, I need some new boots.

Heavy Weather

2009-10-05T14:08:00.004+11:00

Ol' Sydney town has been incredibly unpredictable on the whole weather front recently. First, we had that bizarre apocalyptic red sand storm, then it was absolutely swelteringly hot and now it just won't stop raining. And I've heard rumours that it isn't going to clear up for another month. Which would kind of be okay, you know, cozy and relaxing; inside, by the non-existent fire (I can be a home-body when required), did we not have to go via the exposed, roof-free balcony to get to our bedroom. It's a strange house and, what's normally a cool feature - stepping out of my room onto the amazing astroturfed balcony every morning is something I very much treasure - becomes the most annoying thing in the world, ever.

"Err, Bobby, why is your hair all wet?"

"I had to go wee."

"So... You pissed in your hair? Wow. This is awkward. You know what, I'm pretty down with most things but that's totally not cool. Like, that's not even kinky-cool."

"What? No. It's raining. And to go to the bathroom one has to go via the balcony. Remember?"

Despite all this doom and gloom, we fought the elements on Saturday in order to do one big Anglicare buy up. We spent four hours in that hell hole and purchased a whole TWELVE kilos of awesome. One party of said awesomeness is this amazing acid wash parka (see below photos). I also picked up the floral top and leopard print leggings which will be washed and hung up by the weekend. So exciting. You wouldn't believe how good our rack of new shit for our market is looking. Like, I think I might actually wet my pants. Oh, wait, I totally already have. Or is it rain? Darn, I have got to stop getting so easily confused.

Anyway, here are some photos of me goofing around in various series of undress. Despite the connotations of that, none of them are sexy, I'm afraid. The up-side of the whole weather debacle however, is the amount of layering I can get away with. Yesterday I wore a jumper ontop of a cardigan. I know, right? That's some fucked up shit.

Parka, floral top and leopard print leggings are all from that second hand pay-by-the-kilo warehouse in Summer Hill that I always bang on about. The little white cardigan and belt were purchased for a couple of dollars courtesy of Vinnies' half price sale last week (it's a charity store, for all you non-Australians). The black leather bumbag, chunky watch and glasses are all from Paddy's Markets. The shoes were from a vintage store in Sydney and the skirt from a vintage store in Paris.

P.S. I'm never taking off this bumbag/watch/glasses/parka. Ever.

P.P.S If you're in Sydney, Vinnies is having yet another half price sale today. Get down there!

Great DJ

2009-10-03T16:39:00.001+10:00

Last Thursday night, Marissa (aka DJ Stella) kindly welcomed Bobby and I into her weekly DJing slot at Club 77. We played Blondie, The Cure, Kitty, Daisy & Lewis and many other jingles to compliment her rocking '50s and '60s jangles for an hour or so until the gaggle of club-goers dissipated into the night. Admittedly, there wasn't a massive crowd (see above photo) but nevertheless, do you realise what this all means? We made our debut DJing effort. In other words, we're like totally legitimate, awesome and employable DJs now. Goodbye Bobby and Emma, hello DJ Bobbysix and DJ Meowcat.

Help The Aged

2009-10-02T18:05:00.011+10:00

I know that it's a quite (okay, very) likely scenario that you are all completely sick of these dress up party posts but, unfortunately for you, I'm not. And neither is Sydney, apparently, because I don't think I've been to a party since arriving back in the old home-town that wasn't a dress up party. The most recent of this series of splendour was courtesy of the lovely and beautiful Miss Janaki Peart, who celebrated her seventy-fourth birthday in her pretty little inner-west home. We drunk punch from teacups and peered over our spectacles at the young folk in the backyard.

The ol' birthday girl.

Everything's thrifted. Nothing cost over a fiver.

P.S. So many new things to share with you. Studded boots, chunky black watches, computerised sewing machines, owls, black leather bumbags, more glasses... Oh my, more regular posts are needed, I think.

Vintage & Retro Sale at Hibernian House, No. 6

2009-09-28T19:33:00.000+10:00

Greetings Sydney-siders!
We wouldn’t be entirely surprised had you thought that, after you guys bought us out CLEAN at last month’s sale, we’d never be back. You’d be wrong however, as we saved some Grade A European stock out the back for another time (read: THIS time), and we’ve been oh-so-busy dashing around town collecting new (old) retro goodies to fill our rails. We've picked up a remarkable amount of goodies, including a pair of beautiful Karen Walker denim shorts, loads of shudderingly cool t-shirts for the boys, leather skirts and shorts, a Diesel check shirt, teddy bear, floral and embroided vests, some number of amazing cropped, midriff-bearing pieces and, of course, florals and great prints in every cut.

We’ll also have refreshments, The Kinks (on the speakers), a comfy couch, shoes, super stylish accessories, bric-a-brac, books and MOUNTAINS OF HAND PICKED VINTAGE & RETRO CLOTHES from loads of cool cats including Marissa Ziesing (of fashion label FTW), Bobby Townsend (of Drum Media), Dominique Legrand, Katrina Noorbergen (of Cassette Kids), stylist Grace Atkinson (from NO magazine), David Abram (of Jingle Jangle) and Emma Daniels (of OwlandtheGrapes.com). It certainly won't just be for the ladies either. We've got three man-oh-man sellers with loads of mantastic pieces. And if it all gets a bit hot and sweaty we'll even crack out the fan for you. Alternatively, grab one of our sweet little one-piece swimsuits.

Almost EVERYTHING in store is around the $20 mark. And when I say almost, I ain't exaggerating. However, do remember that we only be accept cold, hard CASH (we like to do things the old fashioned way). If you do come unprepared however, there’s an ATM just down the street.

Also, now that we’re back from the EU we can finally make this sale a regular by-the-calendar event. So, from here on in, every second weekend of the month, rain, dust storm, apocalypse or shine, you’ll find us up at 601 selling our wares. We’ll also be open longer hours for all you kids who want to sunbathe your little white arse blistering red at the beach. We’ll be open an hour extra either end of the day on Saturday and an hour earlier on Sunday.

We're close to Crown St, Oxford St and pretty much everywhere. You'll be hard pressed to find parking, but be an environmentally friendly one and walk or hop on the public transport to Central Station from which we are less than a minute's walk. Find us on Level 6 of Hibernian House, Surry Hills. Zip up in the lift to level 5 and follow the signs.

If that isn’t enough to have you lining up at 9am, I should also mention that we've been featured all over the joint. Not least of all in a recent issue of Elle Korea and in online publication Two Thousand (who made us out to be much cooler than we actually are. Hah! JUST KIDDING. We really are that cool.)

RSVP on the facebook (if only to show off your unbelievable coolness), invite your friends, bring your housemates and grab a MASSIVE BARGAIN!

SATURDAY 10th OCTOBER: 9am - 6pm
SUNDAY 11th OCTOBER: 10am - 4pm

Home and Away

2009-09-27T21:16:00.003+10:00

To celebrate my 21st birthday with my Mother (yes, I'm still, over a week later, celebrating it. Awesome), Mr. Bobby and I were treated by the former to a lovely lunch in a pub in the Northern Beaches. I'd love to show you some food porn but unfortunately by the time I thought to snap some photos my plate of scrumptious salad was half destroyed. Silly fork.

Post beer and such, we drove up to Palm Beach for which Bobby was quite the excited little boy slash fully grown man. In the car, I had to listen to him sing the Home and Away theme tune about a billion times. Okay, according to Bobby, clarification is needed here: It was probably more like three or four times. It was JUST AS PAINFUL. Apparently, because he's English, the fact that the show is absolute rubbish remains an unrealised fact. But what can I say, we're all different G-man, aren't we? Anyway, it was sprinkling and windy and, all in all, not the most pleasant kind of weather for which to be hanging out on the beach, hence we left rather promptly. It was, however, really beautiful. The clouds created such a dramatic atmosphere. It's a pity I'm not The Flame (geddit? Because then I wouldn't have been so cold? No? No, me neither really.)

Batdance

2009-09-20T22:58:00.017+10:00

Last Tuesday marked the first birthday of this blog. Check out the first post over here if you don't believe me. And I'm still banging on about the merits of pay-by-the-kilo shopping. Not that much has changed really, has it?

Last Thursday, meanwhile, marked the twenty first birthday of yours truly. Now therein holds some progression. No longer will you see a whiny, drunken and cigarette-puffing Emma collapsing on surprisingly tolerant friend's doorsteps with bleeding legs. Those lovely, lovable friends needn't even give me another thought until 2028, when I will likely have a midlife crisis resulting in similar, if less excusable, antics. Yep, I'm t-w-e-n-t-y-o-n-e. I'm MATURE. Finally, I can legally drink in the US of A, have sex with a porcupine in Japan and drop an exploding shit bomb on John Howard’s doorstep - just for oldtime’s sake.

I watched closely and put on my most threatening face as my very closest friends (some more so in proximity rather than the intimate sense of the phrase - I‘m looking at you, Marissa) marked the 17th September in their diaries/iPhones/blueberries, in preparation of celebrations by way of a themed nighttime picnic on my living room floor. The essential and amazing theme for the night’s escapades was Animal Hybrids. We accomodated for all those wanting to be a lion but were just unable to stop neighing - they came as liorses. And those others that had the purrfect cat ears but really truly oh so much wanted to wear their yellow muu muu? Oh, little camelats, they did have fun. Our living room was their jungle. Get ready for a plethora of photos.

P.S. I totally only recently learnt that I've been pronouncing 'plethora' incorrectly for the better part of my twenty one years. Apparently it's plethora. Not plethora. So... if I use it more than I should, it's because I'm practicing. Plethora. Plethora. See? PROGRESSION.

Bat mask made using some cardboard and the glasses that Dom gave me at our last vintage sale. Bat around the neck from the $2 store.
Top was a donation from my Mum. Bat wings are made out of an umbrella from the op shop. Skirt is an op shop dress all pinned up.
Shoes are old and belt is from a charity shop in England. OH, and my WATCH was a birthday gift from Mr. Bobby. AMAZING.

P.S. If you consider yourself a close friend but didn't receive an invite, more likely than not, it’s because I hate you. Just kidding. Or maybe I’m not? No, really, I am. My lovely house is old and fragile, and wouldn’t have taken the strain of more than the surplus of seven to those who already reside there.

We Dress Up Like Snowmen

2009-09-15T15:41:00.003+10:00

Our Vintage & Retro Fashion sale last weekend was such an overwhelming success that I've almost been rendered speechless. Almost. On Saturday, I didn't get a pee break until 4pm because we were just that busy. The little room had a really amazing atmosphere and almost everyone who walked in, walked out clutching an absolute bargain between their little fingers. I want to say a big sloppy thank you to Two Thousand for featuring us again and making us out to be much cooler than we actually are. Hah! JUST KIDDING. We really are that cool. Not so sure about the 'young' bit though (I'm looking at you, Bobby). And, of course, an even bigger thank you to everyone who came. It wouldn't have been the same without you. Seriously, we've tried it sans people before and it just doesn't work. Our next one's on the 10th and 11th of October (we're trying out the whole 'second weekend of every month thing') so come along and hopefully, together, we can make it even bigger, better and bloody more brilliant than the last one.

Sunday Girl

2009-09-13T14:21:00.003+10:00

I GOT A - much needed - HAIR CUT! Oh, and I went blond slash orange. I'm kind of loving it. Also, my brilliant new housemate Dom gifted me with these wonderful glasses because they're too big for him. And because I'm awesome. But mainly because they're too big for him (I have a MASSIVE head - in both senses of the phrase). Exciting news, yes? We're mid-markets so I'll make this a brief post. Given my penchant for long paragraphs that don't say all that much, it's the best kind of post really, isn't it?

P.S. Yes, that's a tie dye leather skirt.

Degrassi Junior High

2009-09-07T18:35:00.001+10:00

Wow. I just deleted a whole post and I don't even know how. And you know what? I could Control Z but I think it's a sign. It's definitely a sign. I'm not in the right state of mind to be blogging, especially about that time I thought I was a werewolf. It's raining, cold, grey as all hell, I'm kind of grumpy and I'm pretty sure I just called Bobby the c word because he didn't peel the garlic properly. It might (but probably doesn't) have something to do with the fact that I'm still a little hungover from Saturday's trio of parties, one of which had a bar tab and another of which was within stair-climbing distance of my place in which sat, eagerly awaiting my frequent visits, a large bottle of vodka and a bag of goon. Side note: Did you know that they don't even say goon in England? They call it 'boxed wine'. Doesn't that just make it sound so much more classy than it actually is? Goon doesn't deserve class. Take down the streamers and show it for what it is: Horrible, egg containing, preservative ridden, acrid tasting goon. And it's WONDERFUL. So much so that it deserves capitals. Much like the third party of my Saturday evening, which was, from what I can remember, pretty bloody awesome. Admittedly, I spent most of my evening speaking to complete strangers (albeit, apart from one odd, incredibly-keen-to-give-out-entirely-unrequested-autographs fellow, absolutely lovely strangers) rambling on to them about the beauty of vintage and retro clothes and encouraging, neigh, insisting that they drop along to my market this weekend because basically, it's going to be one big friendly-on-the-pocket party. I NETWORKED, baby. Not sure how true to the word 'party' the event's actually going to be; we'll be sellin' poppas of the fruity kind not the sniffable kind and it'll be during daylight hours only so, in all honesty, it's probably going to be a lot more low-key/kid friendly than I might have made out. If you do happen to turn up really drunk however, I promise to show you to the toilet where you'll be more than welcome to spew your guts up. Because that's just the kind of person I am: Accommodating.

Of course, last Saturday's party was themed (because all the best ones are), and the theme was Degrassi Junior High. Whilst the actual number of people dressed up was rather low, it was great if only for the simple reason that I had an excuse to go all eighties. Again.

I should add that the night was in celebration of the amazing Miss Marissa Ziesing (above), whose birthday it was. I hope you had a suitably brilliant evening, Marissa. I'm pretty sure I forgot to say 'Happy Birthday' on the night. I'm remarkably talented at things like that. I do hope that announcing it publicly, to the billions of readers of my blog (hah!), makes up for that tiny nugget of forgetfulness.

Fashion Launches Rocket Launches (above) played a set in the early evening. Unfortunately, we missed the better half of it (or what I'd hope, all things considered, was the better half) so I'll reserve my criticism for another time. In their own right, they're each very talented musicians.

See? Networking.

Where Do The Children Play?

2009-09-02T13:34:00.003+10:00

Germany has the best playgrounds in the world. Okay, so I haven't exactly researched this fact very well, and being half-German I'm probably more than a little biased but I'll be damned if I didn't have the most fun childishly skipping, swinging and sliding since, well, being a child.

An Asterix and Obelix playground in Bad Vilbel, Frankfurt.

By the Wasserturm in Berlin.

A giant flying fox in Tiergarten, Berlin.

Vintage and Retro Sale at Hibernian House, Part V

2009-08-31T19:42:00.002+10:00

Herro Sydney folks (feel free to skip this post if you ain't based in Sydders),

Guess what? Our vintage and retro sales are back! With loads of goodies from countries afar. And we'll be open all weekend! This might possibly be the single most exciting invitation of your month slash life.

I know, it hurt, right? Six months sans our (usually monthly) sale. You guys must be frickin' starving for some retro action. Well, never fear, the first sale's approaching faster than the Enterprise at warp speed. The best part? We brought back so many goodies from Europe to share with you. Paris? Check. London? Check. Berlin? Checkity Check Point Charlie. The first sale will be loads of fun and you can expect even lower prices too, with most pieces being $20 and under. We will have liquid refreshments, Bat For Lashes (on the speakers), one famous cat, a big comfy couch to chill the flip out on, shoes, handbags and belts, bric-a-brac, a little jewellery, books and mountains of hand picked vintage & retro clothes from loads of cool cats including Marissa Ziesing (of fashion label FTW), stand up comic Julia Clark, Bobby Townsend (of Drum Media and Bobbysix.com), Dominique Legrand, Katrina Noorbergen (of Cassette Kids fame) and ME.

Everything on sale will be cash only. Some stuff you’ll be able to pick up for as little as fifty cents, but make sure there are a few notes in your pockets for some of the vintage bits on offer. (Never fear though, there is an ATM just down the street).

We're close to Crown St, Oxford St and pretty much everywhere. You'll be hard pressed to find parking, but be an environmentally friendly one and walk or hop on the train to Central Station from which we are less than a minute's walk. Find us on Level Six of Hibernian House, Surry Hills. Squeeze through the security door, buzz 601 or, if all else fails, just call the number pasted on the front door (don't worry, we won't pick up the phone and use up all your pretty credit. What we WILL do however, is run down and let you in). Zip up in the lift to level 5 (be patient, it does work) and follow the signs.

Oh and did I mention we've been featured all over the joint? No? Well, we have. Not least of all in a recent issue of Elle Girl Korea.

Check out the Facebook event over here for more details. Invite your friends, bring your housemates and grab a MASSIVE BARGAIN!

SATURDAY 12th SEPT: 10am - 5pm

SUNDAY 13th SEPT: 11am - 4pm

Fight For Your Right To Party

2009-08-25T01:58:00.004+10:00

I've been back in Sydney for almost a week now. You wanna know what I've spent this past week doing? Sleeping. And blowing my nose. Yep, both Bobby and I have been ill. AND jet lagged. Whilst Bobby has tried more than once to convince me it's Swine Flu that's been plaguing us, I can safely reassure the few friends I have hugged/seen since arriving back in the land of Oz that it is not Swine Flu, merely a harmless, mildly annoying cold. I reckon he just thinks it's the cool thing to have right now. Which, let's be honest, it kind of is. I heard that my friend Jess had swine flu and how she was quarantined for two weeks and all her housemates had to wear swine flu MASKS. Can you imagine? All her housemates in piggy masks? Feeding her soup? I have to admit, it sounds pretty incredible. Alas, this whole lethargy thing has meant that I haven't spent more than five minutes on the computer (total), bar the time spent filling out online forms and doing the most utterly boring and monotonous yet essential administrative work imaginable. So, no blog posts for you, my friends.

One good thing to come out of this little sickness of ours however, is that it's given both Bobs and I a little time to become acquainted with our new housemates. Indeed, the shell of our home has changed little but when I say 'new' housemates, I really do mean brand spanking new. Like, all of them. We stumbled into the living room on Tuesday night to be greeted by four strangers sitting in our living room. Since that experience, I'm quite certain that Bobby and I are entirely qualified to be professional Big Brother intruders. Hello Grace, hello Dave, hello Dom and hello Katrina. Thankfully, they're super duper awesome. Actually, the whole situation is pretty frickin' awesome. I've spent more time hanging out in the living room in the past week than I think I ever have because it's just that good. Seriously, like, if I weren't me, I'd be totally jealous. Actually, even being me I'm still kinda jealous because imagine if I could live with all these incredible folks PLUS myself. Wow. I reckon we'd get along ace. Me and me. Although, I'd have to clean up after myself, which would kind of suck. But then I would still be just as lazy so I totally wouldn't but then I'd probably get annoyed at myself cause there'd be DOUBLE the mess. Double trouble? Cool. Double junk? Not so much. Unless it's the other kind of junk. Before I blow my own mind, I'd better change the subject:

Yes, Sydney is amazing and I missed it terribly and man, my cat? Totally missed her to bits. Though, luckily, she was returned to me not literally in bits, because that would have been really sad. However, I didn't really expect (well I might've a little bit. But not as much as I do) to miss England. The fact that those Eastbourners (and Brightoners) made our leaving do the best leaving do to ever happen to anyone ever didn't exactly help. I thought Eastbourners didn't 'do' dress up parties. How wrong I was. It was frickin' amazing. A M A Z I N G. The theme was the eighties and the nineties and everyone took it as far as they could. You might think that the amount of photos that I've posted here is a lot, but spare a thought to those that were subjected to the entirety of the night's photos. Three hundred? Nope. Try five hundred and something. I'm pretty sure I crashed the Internet trying to put them all on Facebook. And they're ALL brilliant. To be honest though, it's really difficult to take a non-brilliant photo when everybody's dressed so fantastically. Everybody should definitely dress like this all the time.

Looking COOL.

As, hopefully, you might have guessed, I was Madonna from Desperately Seeking Susan.

Patent bow, I made myself. Earrings and necklances from various charity stores.
Glittery top from a pay by the kilo store in Berlin.
Belt, shoes and scarf were both thrifted in Eastbourne.
And the pants are my stay-at-home pants, from Primark.

White Wedding

2009-08-16T19:55:00.002+10:00

What a day. I feel completely secure in publicly declaring the wonderful wedding of the fabulous couple, Max and Helen, as an utter, hiccup-free success. Except for that time I slipped down the stairs. That was a bit of a hiccup. But I recovered quickly, with my glass of gin and something or other barely scathed. And that's the main thing, isn't it? Regrettably, I barely got a sober word with the bride and groom throughout the event, and won't do again before I leave back to Australia, as they're now on their honeymoon. Watching them mingle and laugh their way through the day slash evening was a good compromise, however. I don't think I've ever seen two happier people. The thought's crossed my mind that perhaps that was because they got away with only having to converse with me for five minutes tops but let's not go there. Again.

Also, I'm fully aware that I'm going straight to hell for taking photographs in a 'Please no photographs' church but you know what? No. Wait. That's all. Hell. Yep, can't really argue with God can you? Because, you know, last time I checked I couldn't have an argument with a unicorn either. And I did check. He point blank refused to acknowledge me. Waving that horn about, eating grass, flying all around the place. Arsehole (that's directed at the unicorn, not God. God doesn't have an Arsehole. He's HOLY.)

We all positively stuffed our faces at the reception mostly courtesy of Emma (below, with her husband Ford), who made not only brownies but oh-my-honey-cake.

Post-cake, we hopped on a coach to the next village over; a quaint little place with no street lights. Don't ask me how they walk home at night. I suspect they are all anti-vampires (like anti-christs but not), and that they will explode into flames if they go out at night. And when you have anti-vampires flamin' up everywhere, who needs street lights?

We were asked to detail a wish for the couple and hang it on the apple tree which was soon to be planted in their garden. If I'm completely honest, I don't actually remember what I wrote but I do remember distinguishing myself from the other Emma (who is known as Captain), by explaining that I was merely the co-pilot (a position which, in retrospect, has nothing to do with captains or ships), a fact which would have been quite obvious no doubt sans explanation, if only by my overzealous use of 'awesome' and 'like'. I'm pretty sure I broke the world record for the number of times 'awesome' was used in a wish.

Bobby had to do a reading and he was SHITTING his pants. Not literally of course, that would be disgusting. It went down a treat however (the reading, not the shitting) and was followed by the best men's speech (below). Ford, Ben and Ryan - the three best men - charmingly chattered away, humorously following a 'Speeches for Dummies' (or something to that effect) paperback.

Wonderfully feathered hat and patent heels were a few quid from Scope (a charity shop),
the glomesh little bag I found in another cluttered charity shop in Eastbourne,
the dress I made (sans pattern) from some fabric we found in Berlin
and the patent bow I hand made.

Although I feel that it hardly needs to be said, given the photos and the nature of the party, I had the most brilliantly wonderful time at the absolutely amazing event and I wish the now-married couple the world. That's right, THE WORLD.

It's a Mystery

2009-08-11T03:39:00.009+10:00

I must apologise for the lack of posts, ladies and gents. It's been tough, tough, tough; we leave in only a matter of days and my suitcase is five kilos over the limit. What's a girl to do? The obvious solution should have been to post boxes of goodies back to Australia months ago, ensuring that all my things would be waiting for me when I arrived. Alas, I'm not one to think ahead (or to think at all, to be honest), so I'm in a bit of a rather stressful dilemma. Hopefully, if I procrastinate enough, someone else will have to deal with it. In the meantime, I'm still, very guiltily and in disguise, hitting up the charity shops as per usual. A few days ago, on one such 'hit up', I stumbled across a massive Sherlock Holmes hard cover. Having never read any Sherlock Holmes stories, I decided it was time I become acquainted with the infamous investigator. After all, it was under a pound and I convincingly convinced the boyfriend that I'd leave it in England in between my wedding shoes and a couple of owls that just wouldn't fit. That way, we all won. Except the owls. Normally, I'm quick to moan if I must lug any more than absolutely necessary to work or town but recently, I've been taking the massive book, very contentedly, everywhere with me.

Perhaps what inspired this purchase and put me in the mood for mystery and adventure was the murder mystery evening my friend Michelle hosted a couple of weeks ago. It was SO much fun. Like, the kind of fun that you imagine musicians having (when really, we know it's all just tour buses and setting up. And maybe a little drink. But the boring kind of drink. Like beer. And whisky).

Miss Jo as Dr. Sigmund Fraud: A controversial psychologist, of course. She does look however, very Sherlock Holmes, wouldn't you agree?

Hostess Michelle as 'Chocolate' Bertrand: The greatest legend of the chocolate industry (the murder was a chocolate related one).

Me, as Little Fitz: A star of the Music Halls of Europe, where my ventriloquist act (with my dummy Ziggy) proved very popular. I was supposed to wear a check suit you see, but with my dummy being named Ziggy and all, I thought it only appropriate to Bowie it up a little. The best part of it all was, almost all (or perhaps ALL) of Ziggy's scripted parts were Bowie quotes. Amazing.

Tash as Mike Bison (they were certainly very inventive names): The rising star of American boxing. Tash's costume suggestion called for jeans and a white vest. I think the above costume far exceeded all expectations.

Gemma, as Dame Barbara Carthorse, the most celebrated beauty in England.

Miss Rosie as Marchioness Duchamp: An internationally notorious artist.

And Emma as Dr Doris Johnson: Amateur archaeologist.

Queen of the 21st Century

2009-08-06T19:59:00.000+10:00

Surely, the formula to success is not one of working hard, or involving great brainpower, but of simple fashematics. And what does patent, androgynous shoes + a 1980's vest + a utterly vivacious EDT combining notes of raspberry, rose and vanilla equal? Why, a frickin' queen of the 21st century, of course. The auctions end just five and a bit days from today, so make like Speedy Gonzales and bid on these pieces of awesome over here.

I love these shoes. If I weren't gettin' all intercontinental and moving back to Australia in a week and a bit, I would definitely not be selling them. See them featured (i.e. see me wearing them) here and here.