23 June 2010
hello from london [part forty-two]
5 January 2010
hello from london [part forty-one]
there is not much to tell. i cannot sleep, i miss you. i thought maybe i will write a little.
did i mention i saw the dirty three [warren ellis' band] last year in december? well, i did [at the queen elizabeth hall] and they were amazing. each song was a journey and just when you think the dirty three have taken you to breaking point and they will have to relent and release soon, they push and push until your brain explodes from intensity. that is what it felt like. w ellis likes to tell a nice long story before each song, he swears a lot, is not afraid of the occasional high leg kick, and can shred a violin.

a few thursdays ago i went to a games night at the bethnal green working men's club with my friend, david. it was true old-school fun with a memory test [you look into a diorama for ten seconds then record the items you see], bingo [i won the full house and walked away with an inflatable pink guitar, score], dry cracker eating contest [david came second, he lost by one cracker], hula hoop competition [if jonathon were here he would have shamed everyone with his hula hips], and karaoke. i know, how twee! but trust me, the silliness was infectious and you would have gotten greedy for prizes too.
r gave me his spare flat keys so i could check in every once in awhile to make sure he had not been robbed while away on vacation. i spent twenty minutes trying to get his pay tv to work with zero success, read his magazines, and used his oven to heat up frozen pizzas. the highlight of checking r's apartment was this conversation i had with a stranger at the local supermarket. there i am standing in front of the bananas when a man [mid-30s, a bit lonely-looking like he might still live at home with his mother] touches me on the arm. i turn to him.
"sorry, i do not mean to bother you, but what is the difference?"
"what do you mean?"
"which is better, these [points to yellow bananas] or these [green bananas]?"
"well you can eat the yellow ones straight away but you will have to wait for the green ones to ripen."
"so yellow is better?"
"if you want to eat them now..."
i take some yellow ones and he asks to see the ones i have chosen so i show him.
"my name is angel, what is yours?"
"olivia."
"oh that is a classical name."
we shake hands.
"i would give you my number but i have forgotten it."
"umm okay."
"if i see you again, i will give it to you."
"okay."
i bid him a good night and walk away. i love it that he would give me his number but has forgotten it. it was a strange exchange but there was something in that line that struck me, like he was sorry for me he could not remember his number, like it was my loss. i guess it was humbling.
christmas was spent with chris and his family near cambridge. chris did not cry when i gave him his hand-made stocking filled with presents but that is okay. it is a bit much to expect a grown man to cry in front of his parents over a christmas present.

chris gave me a beautiful red briefcase that once belonged to someone with the initials b h d that is pretty much a portable writing desk. when the case opens, the lid is compartmentalised to carry envelopes, writing paper, pens, and a calender. the bottom half is covered by a piece of thick cardboard that acts as a writing surface and it lifts up to reveal a compartment for, umm, stuff. he filled the case with little presents. i felt very spoilt. all we did at c's parents' house was open presents, eat, drink, watch tv, play boardgames [lots and lots of backgammon! look out, bahbak!], coo over his six-week-old niece, and make conversation with family passing in and out. i thought it would be weird to do the christmas thing with the family of someone who has been my boyfriend for only three months, but it was strangely comforting.
chris and his punch-out elephant [part of the magical menagerie by junzo terada].it is almost 3am. goodnight! and happy new year! we can continue this tomorrow. with pictures!
love
o
15 December 2009
hello from london [part forty]

this is the front of a christmas stocking i am making for chris. it looks a strange beige colour but it is more mustard than beige.

"ou est la gare!" is c's favourite french expression, he threw it about in paris but never in the correct context and delivered not as a question but as a statement.

he likes to make mix cds. i only knew he liked me because he gave me a mix cd laden with subliminal messages. when we met he claimed to be the master of this artform.

it is winter in london and apparently it is going to snow tomorrow. indoors often, we play a lot of boardgames [the loser has to write the winner a poem].

chris has a 'tashe and rosy cheeks.
24 October 2009
hello from london [part thirty-eight]
19 September 2009
hello from london [part thirty-seven and a half]
hello friends
this is a pre-show update.
the sartorialist, s schulman, came into the shop yesterday. i introduced myself and talked a bit about the pop-up shop and 'jet set masala', our current retail range. he is sort of listening and having a poke around. i really like this man’s blog, he certainly has a sharp eye for well-put-together looks. he is doing a book signing at liberty next monday and before this encounter, i was very excited to meet him. so here he is in the shop and i cannot help myself and am overcome by a fan moment. i blurt out “i love your work.” he looks amused “ok” and walks out. oh so crushed. when mark came back from his lunch meeting, i told him about my minute with the sartorialist and he said not to worry, he is just another style blogger. this man has photographed people i know. i feel confused.
last night my friend, chris, and i attended the launch of petit mal #3 at jeanette’s. you know petit mal, that funny little [though this issue is newpaper size] tongue-firmly-in-cheek fashion magazine? you probably do not know jeanette’s though. it is a boutique set in a converted garage, very east london if you know what i mean. the party is outside on the street, annie and jonathon have left [the party started at 8, we got there at 9 and they have already gone home], the australian fashion set are out in force all drinking free apple cider. there is a japanese guitarist giving a performance that involves him “singing” with his back to the crowd and sometimes writhing on the pavement. i was not sure if he is serious or not. then a neighbour comes down to complain about the noise to a hail of boos. it was a great mixture of random moments.
not much happened today. we had a guest shop assistant in, stevie from modular records [aka bushpig] did a shift. he is friends with our creative assistant. we gossiped about australians, fashion people, music people, and he played lots of fun music. it was a good day.
the night is still young. i am going to hot boy dancing spot with katie [my housemate] and her boyfriend, serena [who has a crush on one of the djs], and chris.
tomorrow, show. yay!
love
o
18 September 2009
hello from london [part thirty-seven]
i have thought about you a lot over the past month. there have been many things i have wanted to tell you but, you know, no one wants to read depressing emails all the time. this update is about the good things happening in my life. all sincere, promise!
01 i cut the boy off completely, like a heavy stone. you would be so proud of me. sure, he had be a complete bastard first before i saw the truth but it is over now and i feel free. i cannot tell you how good the last week and a half have been. all the hours and tears i wasted trying to win him back i have now channelled into, umm, colouring my eyebrows [big and black], lining up dinner dates, and general merry-making. all very productive things, i swear. ok maybe i lapsed today when i emailed him asking for my coat back, but come on, it is a viktor & rolf number. you would want it back too.

02 last week i was aching for a haircut but at 8 pm, who is open? only the local caribbean barber shop around the corner from where i live! you have to see these barber shops. there are young men just sitting around chit chatting inside, reggae or sometimes r 'n' b blaring, you can get corn rows or a shave, the place is usually decked out in faux wood panelling. nice. i gingerly walk in and stop just inside the door. the barber [shaving a customer's hair] cocks his eyebrow like "err what do you think i can do for you?" but waves me in with his free hand. i explain i want the short side shorter, he tells me he can make it happen. it was easily one of the best haircuts of my life and he only charged £8 when i usually pay £40. i did not even have to pay extra for the amazing conversation. douglas is a big man who shaves off afros. what do we have to say to each other? his phone rings and there is a woman's voice on the other end. i ask if that is his wife. he looks shocked "oh. no!" oops. we start talking about relationships and find we are both looking for the same thing, something meaningful. he tells me he had a bit of flavour a few months ago but she was costing him money. uh-huh. what does "flavour" mean? something easy, not serious. ahh! i would not mind some flavour right now. i thought i was going find it at the bar at ponystep [same organisers as boombox but not as awesome] when i started talking to this ridiculously good-looking young french boy who asked me if i was familiar with french kissing. umm, yes? he also asked me to buy him a drink which i refused but i did like his sass [and ass]. these french boys are just something else because when i later spied him on the dance floor he was making out with three different girls [not at once]. oh, to be young again. and a boy.
03 the e k pop-up shop opened last week. it is a sweet little shop and a fine representation of the e k world. you should come visit me if you are ever on this side of oxford street, i am in the shop five days a week. we have been casting models in the downstairs space [which doubles as a sample sale] for our london fashion week show on sunday. there i am, head resting in my hands daydreaming about a model girlfriend. i can totally see the appeal. who can say no to a yummy piece of arm candy? you always see photographs of these models reading backstage at shows, i mean, beautiful and literate!
04 i have so much respect for wakako, she is a creative force that does not stop.
05 i discovered two things today. did you know kanye west covered can's sing swan song and called it drunk and hot girls on his graduation album? i loathe that track but hearing the original, it is not completely misogynist. have you seen this? fashematics. oh my, it is so funny i thought i was going to have to change my pants. have you seen the september issue yet? it made me feel good about fashion again because sometimes i am embarrassed i work in such a fickle industry. have you seen the hurt locker? you should. it is very good [except for two very obvious scenes] and war is bad.
how are you?
love
o
20 August 2009
hello from london [part thirty-six]
it has been a long time between updates, since july! how can that be? these past three weeks have seen timothy grace these bonny shores, i watched the xx [band] and the model couple [film] in awe, had a few drunken dancing nights with friends, and waved a sad goodbye to rebecca.
this post is mostly about tim. you will like him, he is amazing.
tim lands in london early friday morning of the 7th, he is still two steps ahead of the pack, rocking the low-slung man pants with cuffs rolled up, an i-just-threw-on-any-old-tshirt that affords lucky passersby a glimpse of chest, and a wooden necklace of beads and animals [sometimes one, sometimes two]. tim looks like he spends the better part of the year cruising around the carribean, holidaying here, holidaying there.
we dump his bags and head out to, yes, you guessed it, brick lane. tim is looking for those woven leather man sandals in brown but all we find are white ones, plimsolls galore, and £15 boat shoes [which he considers but does not purchase]. we go for lunch with rebecca, anna [rebecca's sister who has just moved to london], and rodrigo at rochelle canteen [it is inside an art school in a converted shed]. rochelle canteen has been waiting patiently on my list of places to experience. tick! and in fine company too, bonus.
we walk over to the white cube in hoxton square to have a look at the gilbert & george exhibition. i like the inherent humour in work that is essentially blown-up images of oneself but tim is not too impressed by the digital manipulation. we head over to the serpentine gallery in hyde park for some more culture in the form of jeff koons' popeye series. it takes us more than an hour of walking to get there but wow our thighs look great! it is an amazing exhibition. at first glance, the works look as though they are made up of children's inflatable pool toys and the paintings are digitally printed but no, it is more complex than that. i am not great at explaining things but you can read about it here.
on saturday i was all prepped to show tim a typical east london day, you know, lunch down broadway market way, a lie down in london fields, a swim in the pond at hampstead heath. just as we get to broadway market, my friend bahbak sends word he is going to the wimbledon car boot sale with a friend. we about-turn and rush to meet him at old street tube for an afternoon of rummaging, hard bargaining, and coming away with the best junk this side of the thames. tim picked up a 1960s west german alarm clock and travel backgammon set [so envious]. i bought the photograph album i wrote about last update, a glass paperweight owl [dark caramel colour], a typewriter [black with silver-rimmed round keys which are satisfyingly deep], a japanese dog print, a wooden folding ruler, and ysl perfume [it looks real enough], all for £25. good, no?
some of the tasteful goodies wimbledon has to offer.
it is saturday night and we are aching for a big night out. dressed in our cruise [tim] and fashion plate [me] best we pick up rodrigo from the top of brick lane, traipse to rebecca's rooftop for a drink or two, then the bus gathers everyone into its friendly arms and transports us to dalston. we lose rebecca and anna on the way but our trio ends up in a peruvian restaurant with a dance floor downstairs. it is so so but to be honest, mixing my drinks all night was not a good idea and that was what drew the evening to an early close. oh, that and r spinning me around the dance floor in a poor attempt to stop me from passing out did not help. if tim had only been here the weekend before, i could have shown him an amazing night. the saturday before, after rodrigo's painting party, we strip off our paint splattered rags and don looks worthy of a phone call to vogue. i wore the lover dress i bought in sydney in june with the cutaway sides and not one person tried to talk to me. how can that be? i was seriously on form that night. r explained that as a group we were too intimidating. oh. we start downstairs at electricity showrooms in shoreditch, it has a light up dance floor. the djs were spinning the best disco i had ever heard [and i do not even like disco] until someone played the black eyed peas and we hastily pack our handbags and leave. one bus ride later we are downstairs in the basement of some shop in dalston at a night called hot boy dancing spot. you know how gay clubs are always full of hot [mostly straight] women? this was no exception. apologies for playing the sexuality card, but we all know it is true. r tries his luck with anything that moves and i make an unsuccessful attempt to flatter a woman in black bloomers. since when does the flutter of dark lashes, a compliment, and a dance not equal success? ladies are hard work these days. we snort chemicals on the dance floor, things get a bit messy, we fall into taxis and go home.
it is a beautiful day on sunday, tim's last full day in london. tim buys a pair of spiffy boat shoes at the flower market on columbia road and makes audio recordings of the flower sellers. if you ever see him, ask him to play them to you. i read later that maggie gyllenhaal was at the flower market that same morning. we meet up with tim's friend and go for a swim in the pond at hampstead heath. stop laughing, this is the closest i am going to get to water this summer. i love having a dip at the heath, everyone is happy and sun-kissed.
i took a knee melting photograph of tim in classic pin-up pose on his towel but, umm, he was snoozing at the time [and did not consent] so you will have to make do with this.
on our way to meet rodrigo for afternoon tea at the wolseley, tim is, you know, relaxed and wears his shirt casually unbuttoned all the way to the front door of the wolseley [where we cave in to propriety]. you can imagine tim made quite the impression on the tube passengers, young and old. they were either budgeting for a gym membership or thinking of proposing marriage. afternoon tea at the wolseley was a delight as usual, it was fun to pretend to be a part of london's rich set for an afternoon.
afternoon tea at the wolseley with tim and rodrigo [not pictured].
tim leaves the next day. london is a very transient city, people come and go. tim was barely here but it was such a pleasure to spend time with a familiar face. rebecca left for berlin last saturday. i am happy for her, of course, but sad for me. i am in denial about her leaving.
rebecca hosted goodbye drinks on her rooftop. she is very difficult to photograph.
just two non-timothy items of note.
one/ have you heard the xx? you should. they are amazing. you know when music starts to sound same-y and nothing is exciting you anymore then b a m ! you hear something that just blows your socks off? the xx do that for me. when i found out they were headlining london dates, i sort of begged r to work his charm and snag some tickets. he did, it was worth it, they played a mesmerising and intimate set. how can kids so young make such heartbreaking songs?
two/ have you seen william klein's 1977 film, the model couple [or le couple temoin]? look for it. it makes an interesting and humorous comment on reality television shows that are so popular today.
love
o
30 July 2009
hello from london [part thirty-five]
i have many new things to tell you. i am always telling you things and i love it when you write back. what i am saying is, this can be a two-way street.
01/ i am properly single. i am not dating anyone or even wasting time eyeing well-dressed east london types. amazing, no? i feel so free! but i do miss the press of lips, oh well.
02/ last saturday my friend, bahbak, and i ventured way out south to wimbledon for a car boot sale. o m g treasure galore! and cheap! i came away with a fine china raccoon [50p], a bingo set [£1], a 1930s coin purse [£2.50, like the ann demeulemeester owl-looking one from a few seasons ago], and a charles and diana commemorative mug which i gifted to b. he very kindly bought me a polaroid camera and i melted a bit. i cannot wait to get film for it, polaroid is definitely my favourite film stock. the best thing b picked up was a functioning record player for £4, i still cannot get over it. i saw a typewriter [charming grey number] for £3 but i managed to drag myself away. the thing that owned my heart that afternoon was a 1950s snapshot album of black and white photographs taken by a couple on a cruise to morocco. ok i totes made that up but that is what i imagine is the meaning of the photographs. it was so beautiful and i sort of regret not forking over £10 for it but, you know, girl has got to eat. besides, i usually get all the material possessions i want, maybe it is good to be denied something?
how awesome is this fence? we saw it on the way to the car boot sale. the fence looks flat front on but it has something to say when one views it from the side. maybe superman was between jobs?
03/ rodrigo and i had a difficult moment on friday night and after i promised myself not to see him again for a long time. but he comes over on monday to see my housemate, k, and brings my birthday present with him. damn. do you want to know what it is? you know how i am in awe of michel gondry and want his children and think he is a genius? months ago, r sent gondry his favourite photograph of me and gondry painted it and sent it back. are your knees melting? only my doppelganger would think to gift me something like that. i was so overcome with emotion, i hid in my room for a bit, then went over to rebecca's to watch television. the painting has been hiding under its envelope since monday, i cannot look at it.


this is what michel gondry painted in return. i can sort of tell it is me but the man is a creative genius, i am sure i could see myself in a melting lump of ice cubes if he said so.
04/ guess who is going to paris fashion week in october? ok so maybe it is not a big deal for some of you because you go every season but it is very exciting for me. ok so maybe i am not really going to paris fashion week, per say, but guess who will be working the e k showroom during paris fashion week? mark thinks i am some kind of computer geek with retail skills [that pay his bills] so he made me part of the sales team for paris. sure, it will be hard work and long hours but bring on the after parties, free booze, hot french accents, and walking fashion plates. i am sure i will be in for a rude shock but right now that is how i imagine paris will be. nicola, laeticia, meet you there! oui oui.
that is it. this update was pretty much a vehicle for me to tell you about paris. oh i do have a bit more.
05/ i really miss jonathon. when i think of something to do, like a lie down in london fields on a sunny day or going someplace for a dance or a new cultural experience, i want to call j but he is not here and i have to think of someone else [who is not rodrigo] to call. my legs are in desperate need for a dance but who will go with me? jonathon, i know you are reading this, come back.
06/ my second visitor from home touches down next friday. you know timothy? tall, curly hair, likes to wear two necklaces and cuffed trousers? him! i am so excited about showing tim a london he might not have seen before. did someone just say adventures galore?
07/ i am getting my haircut tomorrow [just my short side shorter] and then my friend, bahbak, is coming over for dinner and to watch an illegally downloaded film. on saturday, unless someone offers something better, i am doing time at r's slave labour camp, oops, i mean painting party. he invited his friends over to help paint his new apartment [which he will own as of tomorrow]. in exchange, i am using his leftover paint to paint two wall-mounted shelves for my bedroom. on sunday, fingers crossed, i am going to a car boot sale in chiswick. i do not know where that is but it sounds faraway and full of goodies.
take care, you.
love
o
24 July 2009
hello from sigh city [part thirty-four and a half]
here i am all sigh city but before i get to that let me tell you about my week so far. you will be so proud of me, i have been doing random social things i would not usually do. on monday my flatmate, katie, invited me to her friend's bbq. i was not really feeling it that day [the day after r's confusing knee squeezing] but i said yes, i mean, meeting new people can only be a good thing. we were on the bus and ten minutes before our stop, i ask k if she minds if i go home. she is not impressed and urges me to continue the journey with promises of fun. ok. we get there and there are interesting people, delicious home-made food, marshmallows, a trampoline, and a hula hoop. what can i say? despite my grumps, i had a good time.
i cannot remember what i did on tuesday but i am sure it was fun. oh yes, rebecca came over and we made dinner together. wednesday night was my second date with ben. we went to a talk on the velvet underground with ritchie unterberger, went for a drink, had vietnamese for dinner, went for a walk, then he waited at the bus stop with me where we held hands and made-out for a bit. i suspect he has written a modern gentleman's guide to impressing young ladies.
tonight i was going to meet r because he asked to see me, my birthday present has finally arrived in the post. my friend, chris, calls and asks if i want to see soko with him, he has a spare ticket. remember her? she is petite, french, plays the ukulele, had a song called i'll kill her [that she hates now and never plays]? what to do? i always choose r over anything else but i like soko too. i choose soko. can you believe it? but hold the applause. technically i am not free to see r until monday but i caved and cleared tomorrow night's fun and games [it is the v & a museum's annual village fete] to see him.
beneath all my bravado, i still like him despite the hopeless situation. sigh city.
love
o
22 July 2009
hello from london [part thirty-four]
boys, meh.
one, r is sending me the most confused messages, it is really annoying and i do not want to talk to him for a few days. we braved the rain on thursday night to see bat for lashes. at the bar i hear "olivia! olivia!" who is that? it is luke of romance was born fame. it was such a pleasant surprise to see anna and luke and at a bat for lashes show of all places. caught in the rain, we all race to the nearest tesco [chain supermarket] and fashion ourselves knock-off martin margiela jackets with garbage bags.
is this a bit too intimate? you all joined the honourary girlfriends club a long time ago.
so, umm, two, i am dating a boy i met a few months back. are you all rolling your eyes and having a chuckle? can someone draw up a legal document stating men will leave me alone for the next few months? this boy, ben, is thirty [a good start, more man than boy], tall, skinny, and nerdy in a bookish manner. he is not east london cool like rodrigo, more utterly charming in a young english gentleman by the seaside way. it is too early to know anything, we are going on our second date tomorrow to a talk on the velvet underground. if i can tell anything, it is this thing with ben will simmer for a long time and that is what i want. maybe it is a case of once bitten, twice shy?
do you want to hear some proper news?
three, mark likes to randomly congratulate me for the money i make from the online store and our most recent sample sale. we had a studio meeting today where he got huffy about the lack of progress on his online bric-a-brac store [i am supposed to be working on that] but at the end of the meeting he throws in a “you are doing a phenomenal job!” yes ok thanks. at the end of the day i ventured over to his office to ask him something but i sort of hid behind a clothing rail to gauge whether or not he was busy. he looks up, sees me hiding but looking at him, laughs and calls me a weirdo. i believe we bonded in that moment.
four, e k are in a position to open a pop-up store and guess who mark asked to run it. uh-huh. can you imagine? my own pet project. i am so excited. ever since working at poepke, i have always wanted to run a store. i can see it already: a narrow but long space, print-heavy interior, wooden shelves merchandised with knitwear and knic knacs galore, the rails a colour explosion, print curtains in the change rooms. die.
some general news?
five, poor english people do not know what summer is. they are deprived! no wonder so many britons overstay their visas in sydney. it is supposed to be summer right now but the weather is overcast, rainy, and windy. the sun can only manage low twenties. why?
six, you are familiar with peter jensen? he had a sample sale last week. i went and promptly parted with money for a long stripey button-down top and mustard yellow mac. it is sample sale season here, ching ching!
seven, maybe i do not work for a trends forecast company or anything like that but word on my street is this: roll-your-own-vietnamese-rice-paper-rolls and playing backgammon are hot right now. you heard it here first, you will probably read about it in i-D magazine next month.
eight, i miss you.
love
o
5 July 2009
hello from london [part thirty-three]
thank you to everyone who saw me or wanted to see me but could not. i really appreciate your time and love. right now i feel far away from the people i care about. you know since jonathon has left and now that rebecca is preparing to move to berlin, i only have one very good friend left in london? of course i have a handful of new friends but there is nothing like a friendship built on years of tears, sweat, and good times. rodrigo and i broke up today. i almost want to come home so i do not feel alone. i had a big cry with one of my flatmates. i feel like such a girl getting upset over something that only lasted four months and when i spoke about it with catherine [my flatmate] i was clumsily spilling cliches all over our kitchen floor. you know what this ride has been like, you know how excited i have been meeting someone so eerily my doppelganger. he is doing the classic boy thing and does not want a relationship. how can i work with that? i am so proud of myself i did not bargain for more time.
i could write more but i will save you the awkwardness. double sigh, major cry.
love
o
4 July 2009
hello from sydney [part four of four]
hello from sydney [part three of four]
do not be fooled, my cousins are only pretending to be camera-shy.
here they are showing their faces.
who is the cutest cousin of them all? that is right, the baby!
i feel for her parents. how are they going to say "no" to this face?
do you know who these women are? you should be ashamed of yourselves! they are part of team poepke. i met up with millie, grace, and a bicycle-riding amelia on tuesday afternoon for tea and cake at yellow in potts point. after, we visited juliet and her baby, beatrix. i am sure everyone has heard this story already but it still makes me melt a little just thinking about it. in juliet's living room sit a pair of bongos and beatrix is hitting them with her hand and laughing. i am saying something to her and, mid-sentence, she takes my hand and places it on a bongo. i hit it and she laughs. die! it is so silly but for a second there, her acknowledgement of my existence made me so happy.
22 June 2009
hello from sydney [part two of four]
ready for friday and saturday?
my father accompanied me to my eye exam on friday morning and he bought me a new pair of specs. the shop assistant explained the category of glasses, like this section here is men's, this is unisex, women's, for older people, designer and so on. i choose a big semi-transparent grey plastic pair from the old people's section [only $70]. she frowns at me "are you sure?" she asks. "yes!" i say. she points to a black geek pair, i am not convinced. i really like these grandma ones. i pick them up on wednesday.
after running a few errands for my mother in hurstville and rummaging through the vinnie's there, i head back east to start on some office props for doris' birthday party. she asked me to make a photocopier out of cardboard, not flat but 3d. while i am at it, i make a cardboard typewriter for myself. i must say it was one well-dressed event, the people and the apartment. d stole a giant stapler and shredded paper from her work. she decked out the flat [her friend's, they share the same birthday] with a tea trolley overflowing with coffee mugs and biscuits and instant chicken noodle soup. platters of sushi and financial magazines fed the body and the mind. she had business review weekly's rich 200 issue and encouraged us to see if we could find ourselves in it. the women rocked corporate chic with power blazers, high-waisted pleated trousers, and lace-up oxford heels. some wore a blouse, some did not depending on whether they were busting for a promotion. the men wore suits. adrian dressed as patrick bateman complete with blood-splattered rain poncho. hot. the night dissolved into further hilarity when we settled down to watch one of d's gifts, butts of envy. sigh.

chief executive officers, doris and sophie, on an important conference call.

stacked tea trolley and cardboard water cooler, a happy office makes.

these numbers are not going to crunch themselves!

patrick, is that you?
saturday was washed out so a trip to rozelle markets was sadly ditched. instead, lils, tadz, and i went to the fish markets, bought fish and ate an early lunch.
my gracious hosts, lily and tadzio.
am i the only pleb who does not know this is off a sonic youth album?
i pick up a last-minute shift at poepke [with juliet, catch-up city!] before heading to viola's apartment for a roll-your-own-sushi-roll/ boardgames night with the girls.
viola with a plate of omega-3 goodness.
ok that is all i have for now.
love
o
hello from sydney [part one of four]
i am in sydney, i have been here a week. how are we going to do this? it might take a while.
my parents picked me up from the airport last sunday night. i was a bit disappointed my mother did not greet me with tears on her lashes. for someone who always manages to slip in a "i do not understand why you are in london. when are you coming home?" in every phone call, she was very composed. i did feel a little guilty when i spied my father dab dab at his eyes. we went to dinner with doris at chat thai in chinatown. you know, it is easy to find cheap bad food and expensive good food in london, but cheap good food is a diamond in the rough. i miss sydney for its culinary delights, thai and japanese on every corner. one can eat out twice a week here and not break the bank. the upside to being food poor in london is that it forces one to be a creative cook. back at d's apartment, dave comes over and we watch the 1984 hit, splash. remember? daryl hannah is a mermaid and tom hanks falls for her. i forgot what it is like to watch a film with doris. five minutes in and the questions start.
monday late lunchtime sees yvette, dave, d, and i scoffing vegie rolls, pizzas and tarts down bourke street bakery way. i can already tell this sydney trip will be my own personal food safari. i am staying with lily and tadzio for the rest of my trip and lily kicks off with a delicious vegetable broth. i am not sure what it is called but it has greens in it. so good!
doris, at the surry hills vinnie's, stocks up on party supplies for her office party themed birthday do.
dave does his bit to boost the economy.
tuesday i venture into the city before my lunch date with caryl. maybe just maybe i was a bit awestruck by kinokuniya [london is a bit chain store crazy so it is easy enough to find borders but a design book wonderland is harder to come by]. my knees melted at the sight of an a5 sized book featuring japanese wood prints categorised into seasons, isetatsu collection. then i made the mistake of peeking into incu and my knees melted, again! i have never been a fan of lover but there is this black sleeveless number with a white double collar, generously draped top, cinched in waist, and pencil skirt. die! it is sort of a tuxedo dress, sort of sexy novice nun. if you want to see it, take me out.
arm in arm, caryl and i head towards this vietnamese eatery we used to lunch at when i still worked in sydney. it is not there anymore, replaced by a new vietnamese eatery. an old man standing out the front waves us in, a good sign. i end my food tour for the day at dinner with andy at the chinese dumpling and noodle place in potts point. again, yum!
do you know jonathon has left london and is returning to sydney by way of san francisco and los angeles? sigh. you are lucky to have him back. before he left, rodrigo, kt [r's friend, my new flatmate], and i made him a goodbye film based on actual events. i showed it to andy, he watched it about five times rolling on the floor laughing. i thought he was going to die.
wednesday i had lunch with dominik at the korean cafe on the side of the metro theatre, afternoon tea with doris and my mother at the tea room, and dinner at din tai fung with the girls. when i warned rodrigo i might come back roly poly, he drily suggested a gym membership.
afternoon tea with my mother and doris, before
and after.
dinner at din tai fung with brides-to-be, viola and cass.
i sat next to caryl and staedtler at dinner. the dumplings and noodles fueled my fight against their wave upon wave of love energy.
i worked my first of four shifts at poepke on thursday. do you know what has been such a comfort about being back in sydney? its familiarity. of course this can be a curse and that is why i needed to stretch my legs in london but it is good to know i can come back and sydney will still be her usual charming, laid-back self. the life here is so good. it is certainly easier to be poor here than it is in london. back at poepke, i slipped into my old shopgirl self. spacing the hangers evenly, straightening the shelves, folding and refolding tshirts on the bassike concession stand [i say that lovingly], attending to customers, and having a dance in front of the mirror when no one is looking. i tried on a pair of dries van noten heels and a bernhard willhelm jacket. die!
love
o








