This Week/Long Weekend

Reading: THE tome on Serge: Gainsbourg, by Gilles Verlant.
Listening To: Rough Justice, Rolling Stones; Greatest Hits, Blondie.
Watching: Sex And The City in chronological order.
Eating: Bagels with Lurpak butter and tea.
Wanting To Eat: The huge wedge of Fromager d'Affinois in my fridge.
Bought: Witchery t-shirt I've been lemming for a while. Super soft white cotton with bronze beads on the split neckline.
Planning To Buy: Big oversized sunglasses at Paddy's market before yum cha on Sunday. I miss the amazing faux Chanel/Dior sunnies in Greece that were so beautiful and only 15E.
Saturday: Having E and her son J over for lunch (tacos!), then La Boheme with N. The opera! And no Champagne! What are the odds? Bad odds.
Sunday: Yum cha at East Ocean (the best). In the evening watching the footy final somewhere.
Monday: Day out with many peoples at the Bavarian Bier Cafe in Manly. It should be a lovely day, on the water, with yummy rich food and cold drinks. May my stomach improve by then!

The Cat In The Hat Kickstarts My Heart

I am going to see Jamiroquai on December 3. I am very excited as I love the cat in the hat.

The other day someone and I decided we would like to go and see Motley Crue. Motley Crue were my childhood and it would be a very fun night out. I would wear a sexy rock chick t-shirt without a bra.

Motley Crue are playing on December 3. What are the chances! *wail*

Joyeaux Anniversaire, Brigitte!

Those that know me even un petit peu know that I am obsessed with Brigitte Bardot. She is everything to me, I adore her. I fell in love with her as I discovered Serge. Then I saw Et Dieu Crea La Femme. I've been smitten ever since. If you get a chance, pick up her autobiography, Initiales BB. It is shocking, and painfully sad, and extremely honest. She has made some incredible music as well, particularly through collaborating with the love of her life, Serge (another story for another time).

September 28 is her birthday. She is 71.


From Et Dieu Crea La Femme.


From Le Mepris. The black bob is amazing both aesthetically and in the story.


Click on this photo so you can see it in all it's glory. This stunning suit, worn with a shirt and tie, and that flowing blonde hair, it just blows me away.


The most amazing animal lover - this photo makes me smile (it's also my desktop wallpapaer).

Sick And The City

A bottle of wine and a lemon prawn risotto do not a hangover make. Nor do they lead the way to food poisoning. They were just mere coincidences on my path to a tummy bug. Oh the joy.

Being sick isn't as fun as it was as a kid. Magical daytime TV ceased to exist after the age of what, 12?, so I am halfway into the third season of Sex And The City. It's a bit of overload, a season a day, although it's so nice to see episodes I never saw before and relive the fashion joys. Dolce E Gabbana. I immediately fell back in love with Domenico and Stefano so if you see a cheap denim corset, let me know. And the hair. Carrie's hair. It's fabulous. So thick and curly and highlighted and then straight and then wavy and up in a bun and down and beautiful. I love the short shag to come but the early years are gorgeous.

Jules once did a post on the advantages of being single vs being in a relationship, and many were dismissed as things that you could still do a couple. Well, here are two that are non-negotiably in the pro column:

* You can shower until the water goes cold.
* You can be sick and grumbly and leave crumbs everywhere and rush to the bathroom whenever you need to without any issues. Believe me, it's an under-rated pro.

Oh and I have the biggest craving to go back to New York. The SATC boxset should come with a flight voucher or something. I want to eat cupcakes and go vintage shopping and go to a dayspa and picnic in Central Park after spending the morning at the Frick and have a romantic kiss amidst the skyscrapers.

On the way back I would fly through London and dine at Sketch.

eBay

I sit down to do some work. It's Sunday, but I don't mind. I've had breakfast at the beach , I'll be having a drink later, so I don't feel like I'm writing off the day. I have a bowl of my beloved tarallini by my side and things are good.

But then the thought of eBay pops into my head. "I'll just have a look". "I don't think anything that I'm watching is ending today but I'll just have a quick look". Soon enough I'm up to my toolbars in open windows doing multiple searches. I'm in a vintage-lace-something unique-perhaps a quirky purse searching mood and I love when you see some fab finds straight away. It appeases the eBay Gods.

While I keep searching, I think of the time I purchased perhaps my most beautiful shoes. A pair of Alessandro dell'Acqua killer heels (black, dozens of thin threads crossing over the front, a 4-inch heel with zipper up the back, and a small piece of gold plastic through the heel with a little spike inside, amazing). Pics to come. I had seen them in a mag worn with sleek black trousers and loved them. It was during an eBay ebb so I didn't automatically think "love shoes, must check for them on eBay". A month or two later, I got back on the wagon, and remembered those shoes. The only shoes in the search results were the exact pair. In. My. Size. The one and only. For a ridiculously low price, at least a quarter of the RRP. It was a blessed moment.

Now it is Monday, and I did not find anything purchase-worthy, although my watchlist is bulging with a few delights. So, share with me your favourite eBay story.

Stella McCartney for H&M

Hello...why can I see this and yet H&M has nothing on their site about it?! Why is Harper's saying this adroable yellow cami from the Stella McCartney for H&M collection ($39.90), which would look perfect with the accompanying jeans ($49.90) , is available on hm.com? The release date is November 10 but now they've really perked up my interested. If you know of other images for the campaign please let me know!

FYI

This is really cool, a nifty feature from Corbis called Hotline. It's a calendar of historic and future events with pics, three months in advance. Check out December onwards. For example, on my birthday December 8, you'll find the Olympic Torch relay begins and it will also be the 25th anniversary of John Lennon's death. More importantly, the following day will have the close of the World Cup draw. The World Cup, which I have tickets too! Allez les bleus!

Oink

Hop on the bandwagon and draw a pig.

Ode To Kate Moss

Because pictures say a thousand words...and a thousand words have been said...so let's just admire:

(m/alice in wonderland. yes please)

(don't you just want this dress, hat, hair, bag, look, everything?!)

(just a ridiculously fabulous photo and graphic)

(the bestest ad ever made).

Le Journal

How much delicious news can you squeeze into an 8-hour work day?!

First, the beautiful story of Andre Leon, "Miss Anna" and her unamusement of fat people. There's so many aspects to this story that I love. That there is a National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance. Andre's backpeddling: "I do apologize if I offended anyone. What I should have said is that Anna is very concerned about people's weight because of the health issue. And, as I was fat, I was really talking about myself. I in no way wanted to imply that fat people were not acceptable." (source: NY Daily News). Gold. And Jennifer Weiner's perfect comment, that "most of the models in Vogue weigh less than the September issue did." Being a proud owner of September Vogue, my sentiments (and corresponding neck and shoulder aches) exactly.

Thank you to Jules for this fascinating article on Miss Anna.

As if that wasn't enough, there's been a Depardieu incident. Apparently he's shown up on British TV pissed as a parrot to promote a cookbook, talking about the "four to eight bottles" of wine he drinks every day. But the cherry on the cake goes to his suggestion on how to cook a hedgehog (because of course one must know how to cook a hedgehog): "You inflate it through its (rear)." But then he's put a dampener on things by claiming it was all done for a bit of a laugh, and that the French are "cretins".

God bless French TV. Serge did it so well, and when I read this, I got all a-flutter because hopefully Depardieu is keeping the dream alive.

Tender Feeling

Cup A Cake
"This unique container will hold a frosted cupcake in place with protrusions positioned in such a way that the cupcake will not move within the container if bounced, jiggled, or turned upside down."

Man Style Pants
They are just so damn sexy, especially when paired with an utterly feminine top - a lace singlet, a silk cami. Look at how genius Chloe did it in A/W 2005.

A Homer-Style Woo Hoo!

I love getting comments from all you dear people, and I was so chuffed to receive a comment from my new favourite person, Beth, from Just My Cup Of Tea. She's a pea in my kind of pod and her blog is my Obsession Of The Week (see --->).

Just Say No

I say yes to these things like they're going out of fashion. The department store makeover. On a Wednesday night, and since bellydancing has finished and we kill time by considering pole dancing classes, N and I say yes to Christian Dior and dream of another glam night on the town afterwards.

To say I looked like a racoon would be cutesy and schmoopy. To say I looked like a $5 hooker would be much more on the money. When the Diorshow came out I asked for "subtle". Last time Diorshow was applied to me by someone other than myself I could barely open my eyes and my lashes were grazing my brows, a la Tammy Fay. She chastised me - yes, she did - and went ahead and coated them like my lashes were a segment on Better Homes and Garden. It was a horror story that no amount of rough toilet paper in the Myer loos (with complimentary L'Occitane hand cream) could recover.

Plans to get well and truly trashed were put aside while our tummies, depressingly taking greater precendence, were looked after. Since N and I have become a substitute couple, we thought nothing of walking into Doyle's and being seated by the window with a drop-dead romantic view over the Opera House and twinkling harbour and ordering the seafood chowder. It was very good, although more a thick bisque than a chowder (chowder means creamy goodness) and made even better with a good serving of buttery, garlicky garlic bread.

Then we sauntered over to Cruise for a bottle or red (ok, it was supposed to be for their allegedly free Champagne for the ladeez, but that finished at 7pm. Who knew?) . Lucky us the IT Geek Convention was in town so we got to be ignored by men in black trousers and navy jackets. Why is it we go ga-ga over men with taste? It should be the norm. Do they think "hell, black and navy are so similar, who'll notice? It'll be dark anyway". Buddy, we do notice. It looks cheap and nasty and it disappoints us. Tips for every man:

* Get a classic black suit, I'm thinking Armani or Zegna.
* Get a pin-striped suit that suits your personality. Pale stripes, wide clean white stripes, there is a pin-stripe for you. Dolce E Gabbana is a good place to start looking. These are so versatile and you'll look so dapper with a clean white shirt or a coloured shirt just with the trousers.
* Have them tailored. Tailored! Don't try, buy and live happily ever after. You are not the house model. Get the pants and sleeves taken up or down by a good tailor. Oh the cringe induced by a man in short trousers or long sleeves.
* Buy yourself some expensive-as-hell silk blend socks. Get them in black, navy, an elegant texture and with a stripe. Stock up at sale time.
Please, just do it. From here you can expand to your wallet's desire, but these are the fundamentals.

After the wine we were still peckish. We are pigs, and anyway we have said that after the October long weekend we are giving up all this decadence. Yes we are. So we went next door to Wildfire, and ah, had a cheese plate and ah, the coconut souffle. I highly recommend both. Two valid points were made during this part of the evening:

* We are both single so the money we would spend on sweet nothings for better halves, weekly nights out with better halves and condoms on banging better halves, can be spent on ourselves without guilt.
* We are challenging ourselves to two days of veganism. It has been pencilled in for Sunday 8 and Monday 9, October. Why? Because we have the will of gnats and both of us deplore veganism, so it will be an interesting experiment. It was either that or carb-free and both are as bad as each other. No pasta or no brie...don't make me decide. Sophie's Choice comes to mind. I look forward to reporting the joys of no juicy meat, no gooey eggs, no luscious cheese and everything else banned by this ridiculous dietary system in coming weeks. Until then, vive la decadence!

Delicious Dainties

It's Christmas in September! And Jules is my kind of Santa Claus. In yesterday's mail:

* US Vogue September (with SJP looking fabulously lush on the cover).
* US Harper's Bazaar September.
* MAC - Damzel Lip Glass, Rosemary & Thyme Eye Kohl, Buried Treasure Powerpoint and Pinch O' Peach Blush. I love MAC.
* Nine different coloured beaded magnetic bracelets/necklaces from China.
* The cutest pocket tissues!
* The cutest luggage tags with perfect inscriptions such as "careful! my shoes are inside!"
* A shoe stamp.
* The lovliest handwritten card with a felt shoe on the front.

There is nothing like getting something in the mail (that's one of the reasons I love online shopping). So you can imagine my Cheshire cat grin when there were two more packages in today's mail, containing:

* Lots of faux DVDs from China - from the "corgeous...l'integsale de la pesie" (!) Sex and the City to a beautiful pale aqua box set of Francois Truffaut films. Despite being a francofille and adorer of Jeanne Moreau I have still never seen Jules et Jim so I can't wait to watch it.

Can We All Just Stop For A Minute

And have another appreciation of this man.

Le Petit Singe Has A Housewarming Party

I love a nickname, so when Ione called me le petit singe after I did the ol' trick of stuffing a banana lolly under my top lip sometime during my housewarming party, I liked it so much, so I'm now le petit singe. Although it should be la petite singe. As you will.

The housewarming party. Have never really had one before, although there was something with M once that could be classified as a housewarming. People popped over, new friends made, alcohol and drugs consummed, I even remember some charming little games being played near the fridge. But this was my very own housewarming, and it went down a treat. Why?

1. The best people showed up.
2. Kath's Famous Peking duck rolls.
3. Pina Ilanas.
4. My place is much-loved and very "Sex And The City" according to 6 Beers Martin.
5. Pimms.
6. The BHD's "it's 10.30 in the morning, I just finished yawning" slipped in amongst Blondie and Dimitri in Paris.
7. Pina Ilanas.
8. There was pork crackling, and I ate a bag of it. And when I woke up in the morning there were still a few curly wurlys left, so I ate them for breakfast.

Need proof? Here are some photos.

3 Songs

3 songs that are affecting the hell out of me these past few days are:

* Love On The Beat, Gainsbourg.
* Sorry Angel, Gainsbourg.
* Senorita, James.

Love On The Beat is the most violently sexual song I know. I used to hate it, the woman's (Bambou?) screams, never-ending. And the video clip, Bambou dancing in front of him topless. Now I realise how ahead of his time he was, how the clip is so perfect for the song, how the song is so sexy and beautiful.

D'abord je veux avec ma langue
Natale deviner tes penses...
Il est temps de passer aux choses
Serieuses ma poupee jolie
Tu as envie d'une overdose
De baise, voila, je m'introduis...
Je te dirai
Les mots les plus abominables...
Brulants sont tous tes orifices
Les trois que les dieux t'ont donnes
Je decide de m'introduire dans le moins lisse
D'achever de m'abandonner

Sorry Angel has always been one of my favourite songs. It's heart-breaking, the most intimate, painful farewell, and these past few days I particularly noticed these lines:

Moi j'aurais tout essaye
Mon amour
C'etait vraiment pas la peine
Je sais
Que c'etait foutu d'avance
Mon amour
Je n'ai ni remord ni regret

It's the issue of trying, of it being worth it, of the point of it all. And when I think about it, yes, it was hopeless from the start, and so one can't have remorse or regret.

Senorita. I fell in love with this song listening to the James album in Katerina and Dionysis' living room in Athens. It was me all over, the most romantic love song. I vowed then and there to have it at my wedding. I bought the album somewhere in France while we were driving through the country and listened to it over and over again (interspered with Death In Vegas' Scorpio Rising). That was one of the defining memories of Europe: A, I, driving through France, the windows down, summer heat, crickets chirping, listening to these amazing songs, driving through achingly beautiful country, smoking, wearing a bikini, looking over and seeing a happy face, being in love. I wanted to hear the music yesterday afternoon, not for the memory, I just craved the music, so put it on. As the first beats got louder I just broke down. It was horrible. The memories were so strong of that beautiful time. Why was it no more. Why do things fuck up. And I prefer the now of having this 'no more' than to wish for it again and have it disappear again.

The Travel "Me" Is The Real "Me"

Ann wrote this and it really struck me. Yes! It was perfect.

A and I were once talking about my travels in New Caledonia, and I said that I would spend the days barefoot, on the beach, not a care in the world, happy, not neurotic, and that was the real me, not the 'at home' me who was neurotic and hyper sensitive and the queen of contraditions. And he laughed and said his ex had once told him the same thing, "this free spirit bullshit", and I felt really disappointed that he was so dismissive, bunching me in with her, on something I was trying to bring clarity to. But I couldn't back myself up anymore, it all started to sound stupid.

But Ann's "the travel 'me' is the real 'me'" so succinctly confirmed that it was legitimate. The travel 'me' is fearless, provocative, content. The travel 'me' flirts with strangers and enjoys the pick-up lines and goes into small machismo men-only bars at 10.30am to drink. The travel 'me' is acutely aware of her instinct. The travel 'me' is confident and honest. The travel 'me' is spontaneous. The travel 'me' is fascinated by love and wants to explore it from every angle.

At home, it becomes comfortable and safe. I become safe. And it's fine, life is good and I am happy, but it's numbing. Anxietes come out. The attitude passes from open to everything to cynical, sensitive and unchallenging.

So why is the real me that travel me and not the at home me. Because when you remove the shell of the everyday and of routine and open yourself to the unknown, you have what's pure and honest. And real.

You can't say, "well just pretend you're on holiday then!". Dah. I don't think it's that simple. You have the cocoon of familiarity at home and it's hard to shake it off.

But as you get older, you become more honest with yourself - it's something I'm tangibly striving for - so perhaps it is possible with work. Wouldn't it be wonderful to be completely real.

My Sister

I really love her. One minute she's being my total opposite with conversations such as:

"Corine Roitfeld. Who's that? She looks like a female Anthony Kiedis in his bad days".

And the next she's offering to make me a cup of tea at the exact right moment.

I don't know what she's going through, but it breaks my heart. I just wait for this whole sorry business to be over and for her to be mum in a happy family, and normal life can resume.

J'ai Une Serious Gueule De Bois

And I say this not being a francofille princess but because it's just so correct and cute and cuteness will really help this hangover. And how fitting is gueule de bois as opposed to hangover, because my head certainly does feel like a block of wood.

Today We Are Talking Fashion

First, Marni. I love you Marni, I love you Consuela. I want Maggie Gyllenhall's complete outfit and I want to thank you for making Claire Danes look good. All I need now is to see Kate Moss in something Marni and I will be a very happy fashionista.

Next, I love Carine Roitfeld. I have a girl-crush on her, always have. You are perfection.

Chanel, can I just say how right you are using Vanessa Paradis for your ad campaign, and to please keep up the good work. It's beyond the perfect match. Alternatively Julie Delpy would be ridiculously perfect as well.

Lastly, I have three fashion goals in life:

* A Dolce E Gabbana black corset dress - check. Bought two years ago.
* A pair of incredible Manolos or Choos.
* A Chanel tweed jacket in either black or beige.

I vowed to buy the Chanel jacket for my 30th birthday present, and last night I did the maths. Sorry to tarnish the beauty of fashion with the ugliness of dollars and calculators. I have just over three years till said birthday. Estimating the jacket to cost $6,000 equals $166 a month, or just over $40 a week.

You know me. This ain't gonna happen. Not because I can't save - I'm capable of that - but I have a mortgage. I mean, it will happen, just not by my own doing. The $40 a week is better spent on Lotto tickets or a downpayment on a flight to St Trop', where Monsieur Sugardaddeee is waiting to treat me.