hello from london [part forty-one]

hello everyone

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

hello from london [part forty]

hello friends

this is a very sleepy update because i started a new project and have been excitedly working on it the past two nights and it is now 2.04 am and i think i should go to bed before my eyes fall out. do you want to see it?


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.

thank you for indulging me! sometimes i wonder if i am too old to still be making craft like this.

i miss you and home. i will write a proper update later. if you sent a christmas card, yes, i have received it. i will not say too much here but you should expect one in return.

love

o

hello from london [part thirty-eight]

hello friends

how are you? i am well. there is much to tell you. where to start?

i really liked our show for london fashion week [you can watch it here]. wakako played me the show music a few days before and i got excited the opening track is from the life aquatic with steve zissou. i asked her if that is one of her favourite films and she shrugged, she just likes the music.

i love the aquamarine dot top worn underneath this check and crest print dress. when the model did her turn and started stalking back, the split sleeves took my breath away [not seen here]. this look just keeps on giving! i love it! my guests at the show were bahbak [i invited him last season], serena, and chris [my new beau, yes, that is right]. after the show chris [his first] said he felt like he was in sex and the city. my little boss' daughter [aged three, nearly four] asked her father "are they real peoples?" referring to the models. oh, fashion! no proper show gossip, sorry.

what else? oh yes, paris. i hope my big boss is not reading this. he surprised me in the paris showroom by making reference to the polaroid project from 2005. if he can find that, he can find this. paris was such a surreal experience. we woke up at 3.30am on a thursday morning to catch the 5.20am eurostar. that pretty much set the tone for the trip. it felt like time raced ahead and my brain was doing its best to keep up. sometimes i did not know which day it was. it was a major head spin but having said that, we worked all day [talking customers through the range and collecting their orders, you know, selling] and ate and drank and danced all night on company pounds. n i c e. on our first night we went out to celebrate alexis' birthday and ended up at cafe de flore drinking with sophie calle [mark's friend], sitting near wes anderson [sophie's friend] who was with lou dillon, and walking past karl lagerfeld who was sitting outside. i was so starstruck, i did not know where to look.

the absolute highlight of the entire trip was when annie, my old boss from poepke, came in for an appointment.

i was so homesick i wanted to cry when she left but annie stayed for more than an hour chatting with mark and i so i totes got a decent fix. i am not saying this because i am biased or anything but of all our customers i thought annie made the best selection. she chose print heavy pieces that reflect the true nature of e k. i was so proud of her if that makes sense. sydney friends, you are so in for a treat come february. okay so it will be summertime and you will all be beachside and as if that is not exciting enough but the e k range will be instore and colour exploding all over itself. i asked mark if he will fly me home so i can visual merchandise the poepke window. he thinks i am joking but secretly i am not.

other things that happened in paris, umm. on a night out with esme's friend who works for jean-charles de castelbajac, he invited us back to his hotel room to try on some de castelbajac's dresses. i know what you are thinking but it was not like that at all.

this is alexis. how amazing is the michael jackson dress? he said we were only one of twenty people who will ever try it on.

here i am looking like an expensive chicken.

after, we all pile into a taxi and head to le baron for a dance. i hit on a ridiculously hot french girl [for the first time in a very long time] with little luck and alexis is plied with free drinks and makes out with a french boy. some people have all the luck. sigh. i am not really sore because...

we officially finished work in paris on thursday october 8th but alexis and i decided to stay on [separately] for the weekend. chris came down on the eurostar on friday night. we were both seriously giddy with excitement. i take him out to dinner and we go for drinks at le perle in the marais. all week i have been pocketing these absolut vodka tumblers from le perle. i like the blue type on the front of the tumbler. i was hoping for a set of four but only walked away with three. we visit the lourve, walk through the tuileries [a public park behind the lourve], stand on the champs elysees roundabout, visit two other galleries [one with a maison martin margiela exhibition, the other showed guy bourdin films], and eat candle-lit dinners with a bottle of the house red.

the eiffel tower and i.

so, chris. you do not know much about him. he is english, a motion graphics designer, and used to work with my friend jonathon. this will be the first time jon has been told about this [he lives in sydney now, you lucky people]. surprise, jon! we went on two dates in february this year before chris backs off and tells me he only wants to be friends. okay, no probs. we date other people in the following seven months while maintaining an easy friendship. then last month when we are both properly single, he surprises me with a "you know, i like you" at the petit mal #3 launch. oh. really? the penny drops. he never lets me pay for anything [which i resist], he always walks me home after a night out, when we went for a swim at hampstead heath last summer he was a complete gentleman, and the week before his declaration he gave me a mix cd full of subliminal messages. i thought we were only friends! anyway, here we are, dating. sometimes if the light is right, he looks like brad pitt, but not very often.

what else? i had a day off yesterday and c planned the best adventure day ever. we had lunch at the whitecross street market, it is only open on weekdays. when edwina was here [you know her, she used to work at incu] she gushed about the burritos from whitecross and how she would get one everyday. sure, how good can a vegetarian burrito be? well, let me tell you, it was truly amazing. please come visit me just so i can take you and watch your face when you take the first bite? if i was an office worker around there, i would save on public transport fares and just roll to and from work because i would be that fat.

we are eating our burritos on park benches with a group on pigeons doing whatever it is they do on the patch of grass in front of us. chris comes up with this gem

"what makes their head do that? is it connected to their legs?"

we went to see the anish kapoor exhibition at the royal academy of arts. are you bored yet? i just realised the length of this update. okay just quickly, i really enjoyed the anish kapoor show. i liked the scale of his works, their simplicity and inherent genius. i walked past yoko ono and chris laughed when he saw my awestruck face.

this is 'shooting into the corner'. a canon shoots a wax canon ball into the next room every twenty minutes.

we had hot beverages at the wolseley [a cappuccino for him, a hot chocolate for me] after and then went to dinner in the root master [a big red bus converted into a vegan restaurant just off brick lane]. i rolled into bed after that. it was the best day.

it is saturday night and i am in bed typing to you. after this i am going to start a big felt owl for c's future niece or nephew [due in december]. i guess i could be doing something more, you know, fun but this is my first night in since paris. crazy times!

also i see florence and the machine [or flo mac as some people call her here] is playing st jerome's laneway festival in sydney come january. you should see her if you can, that lady can sing. and the xx! oh my, they are my most favourite band in the world right now. die. i went to see the big pink the other night. i like them, maybe you will too? you know how teenage boys like the work of john donne when they are in high school because he is a bit dark and writes about love? i think those same boys like the big pink for the same reason. their debut album is about girls and not being in love with them. uh-huh. next week we are seeing phoenix and then the dirty three in december. i am back to paying to see bands but the trade-off is not so bad.

love

o

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

hello from london [part thirty-seven]

hello

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.

how strong are my 'brows? strong!

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

hello from london [part thirty-six]

hello friends

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.

all weekend we are throwing comical expressions like this but i cannot remember what this particular one is about.

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].

returning east in the back of the bus on a lazy sunday afternoon with the boys.

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.

i hope you are well.

love
o

hello from london [part thirty-five]

hello friends

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?

bahbak looking like a tourist in wimbledon.

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 the photograph r sent michel gondry as reference.

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