It's Not Fair

Apologies in advance for what's about to be a pretty uninspired blog post. According to the Sydney Morning Herald, it's 0.5 degrees off 40. That's bushfire hot. Exploding cat hot. Laptop overheating hot. And I've got a laptop on my lap. It should console me that if I overheat/melt/die at least I'll go with the thing I love most (sorry Bobby) but it doesn't. Don't be surprised if the next "What I Wore" post is of a dress in a puddle. Written from an internet cafe. So, because some things don't need explaining - even though, being me, I often explain them anyway, by way of an epic blog post/incomprehensible story - and in the interest of *not* melting, I'll try to keep it short - Lily Allen is Lily Allen; I'm going to take a massive leap of faith here and presume that you know who she is and, possibly more than once, you've caught a glimpse of one of her live shows. No? Let me sum it up for you: Flashing lights, rude words (oh my!), booty shaking, intelligently wry lyrics and a generous amount of leopard print. For even more details, you can keep an eye on Bobby's blog, as he was reviewing. Indeed, we saw her the night before last at the Hordern Pavillion and, though I can't say I was - or had the time to get - overly excited, it was actually really quite fun. And I kind of fell in love with the above stockings. Which is ridiculous, considering the heat, but the more I look at them, the more I decide I can't live without them. If anyone knows where I can get my hands on a pair/wants to make them for me, I'd be eternally grateful. I promise I won't even think about wearing them 'till Autumn.

Fat Bottomed Girls.

Last week I was doing some research (okay, I was mindlessly scrolling my Newsfeed on the ol' Facebook), when I came across a competition run by Side Street Sydney in which Caitlin Shearer prints were being given away. Admittedly, I had never heard of Miss Shearer but on scrolling through the interview with her - in which there were a number of examples of her work (one of which is included above) - I quite fell in love with the wistful, melancholy girls of her paintings dressed in pretty cinched things and seamed stockings. The gaping hole in my barely existent art collection made itself more apparent than ever and so within seconds I set upon writing Side Street an email explaining why, exactly, I deserved one of these beautiful prints. No word limit allowed me to babble on in my usual fashion (25 words? Hah! Try 500) and one essay and some eleven days later, I was the proud owner of a beautiful print.

And what made me think I deserved one of Miss Shearer's prints? Well, firstly, Miss Shearer and I seemed to have a number of similarities: I am also a lover of Sofia Coppola, Lula magazine, flower gardens, old movies and the 1950s; we had both exhibited at The Wall, Sydney's finest art based club night (if you can call DJing exhibiting - it is, after all, a glorified exhibiting of one's music collection, right?); she was featured in Vogue Girl Korea, I in Elle Girl Korea; her work was in Frankie, I read Frankie; and, last but certainly not least, I bought my brand spanking new MacBook from David Jones a few weeks ago, which, I realise, isn't quite up there with being featured in the display window of David Jones but both achievements, I would imagine, result in an equal amount of supercilious beaming. Secondly, at the time, my art collection (if you could call it as much) consisted of little else but a bunch of advertisements, posters and advertisements ripped out of old - and not so old - magazines, a drawing my friend Anya did of Bobby, herself and I on a discarded strongneck paper bag (that's a Strongbow longneck - clever, eh? Her cleverness unfortunately, not mine), a few bits picked up from charity shops (including a fish named Billy that sings Annie Lennox) and a wonderful, magical postcard I bought at the Mythic Creatures exhibition currently on at the ANMM that depicts three unicorns frolicking by a magnificent castle in the moonlight. And, whilst the unicorns and their friends were - and still are - certainly amazing, they were living a rather lonely existence. Fortunately, as I predicted, they're infinitely happier now that they have a pretty, plump thighed lady with lips of a temptress to call their friend.

Thank you Side Street Sydney for sending me the print and thank you Miss Shearer for giving these ever intriguing girls lives and, more importantly, fat bottoms. You can see more of Caitlin's work on her blog and get your hands on a print of your own - some for as little as $10 - from her Etsy.

Our House

Yes, this is another post directed only to Sydney-siders. Sorry, international, foreign and sexy talkin' readers.

We have a big and beautiful room available as of the 9th of Feb in our snazzy Surry Hills penthouse. If you're interested, or know someone who is, please pass this on and/or get in contact with us at owlandthegrapes@gmail.com. The room is seriously huge - with high ceilings and stunning views of the city skyline - and so is best suited to a couple but if you're on the larger side/have tons of shit/like luxurious living, we promise we won't discriminate. The apartment itself is also very large - a four bedroom place on the top floor of a famous heritage-listed, graffiti ridden, green maze of a warehouse building with jazz on Mondays and dance class on Wednesdays if you know where to look. We have a balcony for breakfasts, rooftop for beers, courtyard for picnics, dining room and kitchen, two lounge rooms, bathroom and reading room. No parking (we're an environmentally friendly lot) but we're located a minute's walk from Central Station and there's public transport aplenty. Close to Crown St, Oxford St and pretty much everywhere, it's only a short walk for coffee, sambos, beer, music, op shops, tattoos and other fun stuff. For more photos, check out the Facebook event here.

The current residents, of which there are four, are stylists, DJs, writers and runners of a monthly vintage and retro sale which takes place in the second living room (don't worry, it won't impede on your space). They are also incredibly good looking (so, you know, make sure you fit in and all). The new housemate(s) must have a sense of humour and like to keep a clean house. It would be a plus if you had a microwave, a fridge (because we'd like another) and are in some way artistic/musical because that's just the kind of people we're into.

Rent is $1250 per calendar month (which works out to about $288 per week). No water or gas bills but we do ask you to chip in for electricity, though that won't set you back much. Bond is $1250.

Lastly, if it helps, our cat has offered to sit on your face. She's pretty much the best cat in the world. In fact, she was even featured in Elle Korea a few months ago. That's right, a FAMOUS cat on your face. Awesome.

Let us know when you're free for the game of 20 questions by facebooking me or emailing me at owlandthegrapes@gmail.com. Be quick - don't miss out on the place of your dreams!

Vintage & Retro Sale at Hibernian House, Number 10? 9? Who the fuck knows. Crisis averted: *January Edition*

SATURDAY 9TH JAN: 9AM - 6PM

SUNDAY 10TH JAN: 10AM - 4PM

Presumably, by now you know the deal. I give you the deets, you either go, "Yeah nice one Emma, have you forgotten that I live on the OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD? WHY DO YOU TORMENT ME LIKE THIS?" Or, "Oh yes, that would be lovely, last time I went it was an absolute blast so I wouldn't want to miss out on this month's, which seems not only to be bigger and better, but cheaper too, something I didn't even think possible." If you're one of the annoyed latter, I implore you to stop reading, right now. If not, I have some very exciting news for you. Our next sale is this weekend, on Saturday 9th and Sunday 10th of January. We have mountains of amazing clothes and accessories for both sexes available for your purchase for cheap cheap cheap and we simply cannot think of a better way to spend your Christmas dosh. See, we've marked down a bunch of stuff, making things even cheaper than usual, the reason being little else except that we can't seem to shake the holiday spirit. And so, we're calling it our post-Christmas sale. If I didn't know better, I'd say that we *invented* the word bargain.

Make your way to Level 6, 342 Elizabeth Street to find a bunch of shoes (ranging from sizes 6 to 11), super stylish accessories, some bric-a-brac (including books and CDs) and rails of incredible second hand clothes from loads of cool cats including Katrina Noorbergen (Cassette Kids), stylist Grace Atkinson (NO magazine), Marissa Ziesing (fashion label FTW), Kalindy Sparkle and Emma Daniels (that's me!) It certainly won’t just be for the ladies though; we’ll have loads of mantastic pieces too, courtesy of Bobby Townsend (Drum Media), David Abram (Jingle Jangle) and Dominique Legrand (Awesometown).

Looking forward to seeing you there. Check out the facebook event for directions and further details, invite your friends, bring your housemates and grab a MASSIVE FRICKIN' BARGAIN!

SATURDAY 9TH JAN: 9AM - 6PM

SUNDAY 10TH JAN: 10AM - 4PM

Zombie

Woah, we're outta Christmas leftovers and it's suddenly hit me that there was a time when I ate healthily (and in moderation) and actually did stuff, as opposed to lying around all day in food comas, drinking in absolute excess, wallowing in hangovers, reading books about cats and watching tapes on the VHS. Because I needed one desperately, and because I'm going to start taking writing seriously, I bought a laptop a few days ago, though I've barely even used it as I've been too busy with the aforementioned activities. Not to mention the fact that I kind of don't know how to use it what with it being a Mac and all. Also I think I might be breaking it as we speak because it's really frickin' hot and currently my Mac's almost as sweaty as me. With my sweat, of course, not it's own. It's not alive or anything. Though if it were I think it'd be a polar bear. Which makes the whole hot/sweaty thing even worse.

All this lard arsed behaviour considered, as of now (or, more likely, tomorrow) my new years resolution is to get off my newly fat arse, eat greens and not chocolate everyday and actually get some shit done. Whether this will be possible after two weeks of stupefied laziness or whether my body has actually shut itself down is as yet unforeseeable but I'm sure as hell going to try to exorcise the zombie in me. Did you make any new years resolutions? Last year Bobby decided I should make mine to quit smoking. I vehemently refused until we went to England and it kind of happened completely accidentally and without my even noticing. I blame the cold. I told Bobby that I'm thinking of making this year's resolution to pick up smoking again just so I can quit again with some venom because last time was kind of an epic disappointment what with the whole not-even-excersising-my-will-power thing. But then he called me an idiot so I think that means he doesn't approve.

Anya, unconscious girl and I demonstrating our Zombie-ness.

Anyway, when I started this post I think what I was trying to do was wish you a merry New Year. So, merry New Year folks. I hope this year treats you better than last and I truly wish you all the best. I hope that you had a wonderful New Years Eve, got absolutely shitfaced and made a fool of yourself because if you're only a douchebag once a year it should be on New Years Eve. I know I was. We spent the night at a rooftop party in the city from which we could see the fireworks and about four fifths of the Harbour Bridge with close friends (and some not so close friends. And a whole lot of strangers) which was oh so lovely. Thanks for reading, beautiful, talented ladies and handsome, clever gentlemen (because if there's any time to get all sentimental it's the days following a night of being a douchebag, right?)