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- That Reasons My Son is Crying is funny to some people (this kid is a turd) Continue reading
17 things I still don’t get in 2013, no matter how hard I try
Filed under Uncategorized
Mr Ho and the panty problem
Photo by China Foto Press / Barcroft Media
First the leopard-print undies with the froth of lace vanished from my line. Then a few pairs of plain Bonds, a must in any Aussie girl’s top drawer. The beribboned duds with ‘Lucky’ scrawled across the bum disappeared and finally, one of my bras.
I lived with a bunch of other expats in Singapore, and replacing stolen frillies was not as simple as nipping down to Target. In this tiny equatorial country I was a Gorgon, a Charybdis, a female monster of inconceivable proportions; simultaneously too gigantic to escape from yet invisible to the naked eye. I’d been ignored or tutted at in a hundred clothes shops, and once even shown the door with directions to a “caucasian store where they can help you”.
In addition, in Singapore’s 99 per cent humidity everything grew a flounce of mildew, like a closeup in an Attenborough doco. Sluiced daily in waterfalls of sweat, even my back went mouldy. The only non-revolting clothing I had was jealously guarded, hand-washed and mended. The stolen bra (of a magnitude only useful to locals as a baby sling or maybe a potplant-holder) was a bridge too far.
This meant war.
Filed under Singapore, Snowdropping
The clash of steel and the cries of the vanquished
Put your masks back on ladies!!
Once you pick up a sword, it never leaves you. Fencing is said to get into the blood – only returning when you’ve a heavy weapon in your hand and can stare down your opponent through a thick mask and a curtain of sweat.
While Olympic fencing is related to Renaissance-era duelling, it only really took off in these parts after WWII. Hungarians were fleeing the horrors of Soviet occupation and immigrating to our shores in their thousands, and brought with them to Melbourne not only delicious smallgoods and cheeses but also a talent for the blade the likes of which had not yet been seen in this country.
Filed under Fencing
Who will buy? Serendipitous marketing on the mean streets of Melbourne.
Theirs looked much better than this.
Collins Street! Melbourne’s most expensive shopping strip, home to some of the glitziest, priciest brands in the world and some of the most gorgeous window displays. Despite what many of us think of these global names, years of slick branding and marketing have placed them at the top of the luxury must-have tree. You could pick up a Zegna suit, a Chanel handbag and a Tiffany ring in a godawful powder blue box, all in the one place.
The Prof and I live up one end of this strip (the Marseille end, ahem), so often weave our way through the crowds to pick up Coles milk, tinned tuna and other comestibles, all in the one place. Continue reading
