Today I'm taking action. That teeny white gravel is going to top my pink and white geranium in my pink with white polka dots pot on the front veranda, and the bag? In the recycling. If it doesn't have a purpose, doesn't add to our life, or have an immediate use I'm being ruthless and moving stuff out of here. Right now. That's my spring action plan.
Monday, September 01, 2008
i'm keeping this for...
When it comes to keeping a tidy and clutter-free home there are some things that just get moved from one surface to another. I'm over that. As today is the first day of spring - and subsequently the perfect time for spring cleaning - these things are outta here. Case in point. Last year, for my birthday party we filled pale pink party bags 1/4 full with gravel and then popped tea lights in, lit them, and dotted them along the front path and up the stairs to the front door. Pretty. Well, over the past year I have managed to transfer the gravel from all the bags into one bag, and this bag has been moved from one spot in the study to another. Why? Because it's a sin to throw out something good.
tidy desk and mind
Last night I'd had enough of my messy study. Other rooms were looking good, which of course meant that all the clutter was accumulating in my study. Because I work from home three (to five) days a week I need to be able to concentrate, and teetering piles of clutter were distracting me. So I got in late last night and decluttered, tidied and cleaned and boy, what a difference. I now have space - and surfaces! All I need now is a fresh bunch of jasmine for my desk and a productive day is in order - just in time for the first day of spring.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
mermaid magic
I stumbled across this old favourite last night. Cher is an utter genius. Her role as the mum who feeds her two girls cocktail food is bewitchingly good. And oh, Christina Ricci was a bundle of bliss - no wonder I still adore her. The final scene where they're dancing around the kitchen singing, "If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife..." made me want to clap my hands in glee. Christina's little red swimsuit, Cher's lissom yet curvy bod, Winona's pale gorgeousness... Mermaids rule.
pool toons
simple suppers
I realised tonight that I don't do those simple Sunday night meals. You know, the cheese on toast, weet-bix or scrambled eggs and toast fingers. No, apparently I don't really like to give myself a night off. Tonight was as simple as it comes with Nigella's carbonara. Have you tried it yet? Go on.
You cook up some pasta, fry up some bacon and garlic in a little oil till it's golden. Then tonight, because it was sticking, I tossed in a splash of white wine to deglaze the pan (while the bacon and garlic was still in it - yum). Drain the pasta, toss it in the pan with the bacon, then take off the heat and add two beaten eggs and quickly combine. Add pepper, a splash more white wine and some parmesan and there's dinner. Adding some mushroom and diced green spring onions would add some colour and texture - but also take away a little of the simplicity, and apparently that's what Sundays are all about.
well, well, well
I received lots of lovely books for my recent birthday and the Kate Spade series of three make very stylish additions to my bookshelf. Personally I can never read enough about manners, and this quirky little tome served to delight and inform. I think I'll start on Style next before moving on to the final in the series. Surely I'll be a far more poised Laydee after reading these!
straight up
Have you noticed that a makeover, virtually any makeover, involves straightening hair? Think back to any makeover you've ever seen and you can guarantee that any unruly kink was GHDd out of existence in the pursuit of perfection. My daughter and her friend are watching The Princess Diaries and guess what? Apparently being princess-worthy requires straight locks. Who knew? Is that why Fergie was never completely accepted into the royal family or the public bosom? Does unruly hair indicate a similarly unruly nature?
You've got to love a makeover where they take a woman who's too busy to fuss with her appearance, make her over, and give her a hairstyle that requires serious attention with a blowdryer or straightening iron. Honestly, it takes nearly all my energy to wash, condition, comb and apply curl creme to my my hair.
Of course, I'm biased, having a head of curls. But why is it, that despite fashion mags trumpeting the fashion appeal of curls and waves, a makeover isn't complete unless hair is tamed into submission?
Saturday, August 30, 2008
what's your superpower?
One of my favourite bloggers, Molly from Les Cadeaux, suggested that each of us has a superpower. Hers is the uncanny ability to match up friends, mine is to tell the time, pretty much accurately to within a few minutes - without a watch.
I like this idea. See, we're always trying to match ourselves up to an ideal that none of us can attain when realistically we should be championing these quirks within ourselves.
Today my power's quite week as I'm hungover. Not in a good way. This is not the hungover that results from quaffing too much champagne - or even cheap wine. Nope, it's a migraine hangover - hence my lack of posts these last few days. I'm pale, insipid, and my brain is refusing to function in a manner that appeals to all I need to do. So I'll take it easy and hope that tomorrow my body and brain have resumed functionality.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
french chick
We have a bucketload of images from our last trip to France - and funnily enough our daughter seems to feature in many of them. We stayed just around the corner from the exquisite Place des Vosges and walked through this park almost every time we explored the Marais.
Our gal was six when we holidayed, for six glorious weeks and luckily, she adored every minute. It's little wonder that when she grows up she wants an apartment in Paris, a Chateau in the Loire Valley and a little blue cottage around the corner from us in Merewether. Hope she lets us visit!
yay us
Ordinarily I despair of remakes. The original is normally the best. When Australia made a version of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy my worst fears were realised. And by the looks of things, the US version of Kath and Kim is sorely lacking any humour. But, we Aussies do deserve snaps for a few programs. I do adore the Aussie version of Project Runway. The competition was stiff - how could Henry hold up to Tim Gunn - or Kristy to Heidi? But they do - they completely and utterly hold their own. I could just squish Henry he's so divine. His observations are eerily accurate and delicately phrased, helping some of the designers continue to progress even when the constraints of the program have almost made them lose their way. Genius. Plus, we've uncovered some gems of designers - talent is seeping out of pores, despite some of the hideous challenges they've had to uphold.
When it comes to favourites, I've long tossed up between Leigh and Petrova. They're both fabulous, have their own style and Petrova has the most covetous hair I've ever seen. This week's episode saw Petrova sneak out in front for managing to follow a brief, give the client what they want, and yet still create an outfit that's got her personality and unique genius stamped all over it. I hope that when the outfit goes on sale it positively sprints out of Myer stores.
It's a tough call who'll come out in front as each designer remaining could easily shoot to the top of the Australian fashion industry - and I'll be applauding them all the way - and Leigh, if you're selling, I'm buying.
that's better
Because I wrote mean things about Pammy this morning, I was cursed. My skin looked and felt like crap - merely because I suggested she could use a good scrub. So I used something that made me look and feel a lot better. This!
I do so adore Dermalogica's Daily Microfolient. It doesn't feel like it's working, and yet it does - magnificently. So I cleansed, microfoliented, moisturised, then applied the daily face brightener and feel far more ready to face the world. My skin feels so much softer and smoother, and looks like I've dived face-first into a vat of Touché Eclat. I'm in love and plan on making this my daily routine. As penance. For being mean. To Pammy (but, really, don't you think she could do with some of this stuff?)
c'mon aussies
For some reason we've had Pamela Anderson in Australia twice this year. Twice. I reckon that's even more than Tara Reid. These days Pammy makes me want to cover up, and have a facial scrub - the years have not been kind to that girl. Now, I used to love Pammy. She was such a stereotype, and yet I used to believe that she had a strong sense of irony and played to it. Well, that irony seems to have gone the way of pants with Pammy these days.
See, it's not that I'm a fan of acting your age. If Iggy Pop played a gig with his shirt on that would make me sad. And Debbie Harry? She'd break my heart of glass if she started dressing all nana. But still, there's sexy, and there's sad. Pammy? Sad. Sofia Loren? Sexy. Sharon Stone? Crazy, yet still kinda sexy (in that will bite your head off when she's had her way with you kind of way...) Demi Moore? Sexy. Helen Mirren? Meow!
I don't want Pammy to be a girl on the loose - that's just scary. We need Henry Higgins to pop on over and teach that gal a few things. "Just you wait, Henry Higgins..."
this week in shoe business
Pretty non? I must say, I'm not finding this shoe of the week thing as easy as I'd hoped - there are some mighty ooogly shoes out there this season. I like a classic shoe, one that doesn't scream Spring 2008, but makes you sigh just as if you've snuggled into a freshly made bed. That's what's doing it for me with these Jimmy Choos (although, I always have James Earl Jones, doing Sex and the City, on Will & Grace squealing "JIMEEH CHEW" - which can't be what Ms Mellon is after...) This red is the perfect shade - much like my nails today in Chanel Pirate. Can you ever have too many pairs of red shoes?
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
for slippery little suckers
I was thinly carving the roast beef the other night and was becoming increasingly bothered by the way my chopping board keep moving around while I was trying to slice. Annoying. Then I remembered a tip from Bill Granger. He said to place a folded tea towel beneath a mixing bowl to prevent it turning as you're whisking or blending - which is a damned fine idea that works perfectly well. And guess what? It adapts perfectly well to the chopping board too. Keeps it snugly in place so you've got a nice, stable surface while you're slicing.
Thanks Bill.
Monday, August 25, 2008
simply speaking
Friends asked on the weekend what my daughter thought when I told her we were no longer vegetarian... here's an example. I asked my eight-year-old what she wanted for dinner tonight and her answer was "beef". Of course, I needed her to elaborate and her response? Beef Bourginon... obviously the result of a francophile mother who also loves a bit of red meat.
Now, it's 4.15pm so a wee bit late to be starting beef in burgundy, so I'll be roasting up a slab of beef, serving it with cubes of potatoes oven roasted with a little duck fat, some corn on the cob and green beans. Um, yes, roll on the lighter meals of spring!
clean sweep
In a first, today I dropped off four massive bags at the Salvos... and walked out with nothing! I'm all inspired by that man who, on the weekend, gave away all his belongings - yep, everything. Now, there's no way I'm going that far, but simplifying my house would be a big improvement. I'm starting with magazines. I have a scary amount on the bookshelf in my study - so many that there's no room for books, and novels're piled high on all my smaller bookshelves rather than luxuriating in the space they deserve.
I must say that for years I bemoaned what the net would do to publishing and it's obviously having a huge impact on magazines - with readership dropping off in so many categories. Now, while I can never imagine reading a book on-line (I still love me a bound book) a magazine's a whole different kettle of fish... one that's slightly on the turn. I never thought I'd say this, but magazines aren't doing that much for me any more. I open them, skim them, and quickly move on. The trashy gossip mags are the worst. They're not even a guilty pleasure when most of the content is blatantly fabrication (Jen! So Sad: Jen! In love: Jen: My wedding plans...) I'm glad that most of my fave mags have websites though... I can't give 'em up cold turkey.
So today, it was Buh Bye to Donna Hay and Notebook: two mags I've kept lovingly since the start, but rarely ever refer back to. It's been spesh, but it's time for me to ditch the dust-gathering mags and make space for some new novels - I need to feed my brain.
if you can't say anything nice
Then just shush, shhht, shut it or zip it. What's with those people who are ever so free with the negative comments? You know the ones, they're happy to meet you, greet you and then say, "Wow, you've put on weight" (or, as a girl did to me when I was in my twenties, poked me in the tummy and said "you're putting on the beef"). What's the point? Seriously, when I've put on weight, it hasn't escaped my notice. I know it's there and, chances are, I'm dealing with it - or ignoring it. It's the same with the sympathetic "oooh, you look tired". What the? If I'm tired the last thing I need is someone telling me I look pale, wan, puffy eyed and crappy. It won't inspire me to go home and take a nap, it'll just make me feel even worse than I already do.
Are these people honestly happy for people to say the same to them? Um, doubt it. Personally I like to move through life effecting positive changes. I'd prefer to compliment someone, and normally you don't have to look too hard to find something nice to say. A deftly served compliment is the simplest way to give someone a boost.
Of course now that I'm more mature and wouldn't be quite so devastated by a negative comment it rarely happens, but next time it does I'm going to raise an eyebrow (probably my left, I can't seem to get the right one to move independently) and in a puzzled tone enquire "Why would you say that?"
party time, excellent
A good party is a rare and wonderful thing. It's a delicate balance, where so many aspects have to be in harmony, and if they're not, it's all a bit meh.
Well, I went to a fabulous party on the weekend. For a start, it was for a pretty spesh bloke who's managed to accumulate a number of diverse and interesting friends (which ticks the first box of party must-haves). Just like a dinner party should have an eclectic bunch of people gathered, so should a party. Too much similarity can lead to boredom, and a boring party. I met some amazing new people, caught up with old friends, and learned to love some people I'd admired on fleeting acquaintance.
Secondly, the location was perfection. The right size space, decent moody, yet not-too-dim lighting, and sections where people could sit, stand or feel inspired mingle. That's why a party in a large, open space doesn't work. A party is like a garden, you shouldn't be able to see everything at first glance. You need to be led around, with surprises and delights around corners.
Decent alcohol is, of course, a must, and finally - really good music. Music makes the party. Music needs to enhance your mood, move things forward and every now and again cause you to squeal excitedly "Oooh, I love this song!" and to do a little dance on the spot. When you have a party that people will continue to talk about for at least as long as you've been on the earth, you know you've had a hit.
Friday, August 22, 2008
better the devil
I was feeling a bit grumpy and put upon today - and the grey squally skies sure didn't help. You know those days where things go wrong and you feel as though it's someone sending a message (probably just one saying, "um, they're only little teeny tiny problems - get over it"...) Anyway I grumped on in the front door, decided to switch on the telly for a bit of mindlessness to cheer me up and saw The Devil Wears Prada playing. Well did it turn my frown upside down!
Meryl - magnificent as always - will cheer me any day. And the montage of gorgeous outfits to Madonna's Vogue? Oh baby, you're playing my song. It also proved that while colour is divine, nothing is more chic than black.
Apart from making me strongly covet strings of Chanel beads (which, even if I DO win a million dollars I couldn't justify) it also gave me shivers of bliss at the first sight of the Eiffel Tower sparkling with thousands of lights. Paris always makes me smile.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)