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?)

The Wall

Guess what this owl/sometime cat/rare(ly) lady is doing this Wednesday night?

I'm DJing at World Bar in the Cross (that's Sydney, folks) from 8 till 10! It'll be the best night since that time got your dog wasted and played fetch with the bottle* - ALL FOR FREE! Check out the Facebook for more info here. See you there guys (which is meant in that all-gender-encompassing, 'Yo wassup guys?' kind of way).

P.S. They totally fucked up the poster so that it looks like I'm headlining. Which basically means that I am actually headlining. Over Surecut Kids and DJ Crane from Bad Wives. The. Best. Fuck. Up. Ever.

P.P.S. Warning: If the floor's empty during my set I *will* blame you. Despite all the niceties in the previous post. What? Me? Bipolar? Phh...

*Don't do this at home. Cruelty to animals is not a joke. Unless it's like, really, really funny. But even then it kind of sucks.

Fairytale of New York

Why, don't you look lovely today? Is that vintage? You got it from one of my vintage sales, didn't you? Yes yes, I know how these things work. How was your holiday? I'm avoiding the C word (no, the other one, you dirty scumbag) as *I* don't discriminate. Also because I kind of hate the C word and the fat man and all his imagined buddys (I'm looking at you, God) and it's much nicer to just think of it as a celebration where everybody takes a little time off, eats and drinks 'till they spew and laughs at the dude with obvious bad luck in straw drawing sweating his arse off in an atrocious, hired red and white suit. Though that said, I kind of made a tree. Out of material. But it was done totally begrudgingly. Well, a little begrudgingly. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed/are enjoying your holiday. I hope it is/was peaceful and I'm really sorry about Aunt Alice interrogating you about your sex life. She means no harm, she's just a bit of a perve. I hope that the fish cooked through properly 'cause no one likes undercooked fish. Except the Japanese. And some owls. Speaking of owls, Bobby got Wiggi the Owl an easel. He hasn't stopped tweeting about it. Not tweeting about it silly. He can't use computers, obviously.

Wishing that the New Year brings you many a merry time and all. Sending my love (in a totally non-pervy way. Are you listening Aunt Alice?)

P.S. We're only just beginning to run out of all the food we made on the 25th. By run out, I mean we only have maybe three lunches and ten deserts left. I think we may have over cooked.

Coming Up Roses

I haven't the best reputation when it comes to making soft toys. First there was that time I tried to make plush number six for the boyfriend, the reason being that the boyfriend's nickname is Bobby Six (which, if you're wondering, refers to a Native American Bounty Hunter in a '90s television show called Renegade. Obscure? Try telling him.) Frustratingly however, this six just wouldn't turn out. I tugged and pulled, used scissors and chopsticks and all I got was a frickin' worm. I saw no other option but to slap an eye (read: button) on the bugger and give the cyclops worm to him for Christmas. Needless to say, Bobby was not impressed. Some time after that harrowing experience, prompted by the event that was Bobby's then-housemate's birthday, I spent hours making a near-perfect big eyed owl from vintage fabrics. Said birthday girl was all "Wow it's amazing, I totally love it," lulling me into a false sense of security, thinking my curse had been lifted. A month later however - right in the midst of uni exams - she kicked Bobby out on the street. We've lived together ever since. I kind of blame her, but mostly I blame my sewing skills.


Thankfully however, there are curse-free people on this big balloon with mountains more talent than I making and selling beautiful things so that, should I not want to, I needn't ever touch a needle and thread ever again (well, at least not until it comes 'round to adjusting my second hand clothes). One such crafty creature is my very dear friend, Rosie Miles. Rosie makes, amongst other things, sulky fairies (see above photos). Which are kind of the most perfect Christmas gifts ever. If you're London way, pop along to the London Designer Makers' Christmas Sale this Saturday, where she'll have a stall. It's at the St Aloysius Social Club near Euston and she'll be there from noon til 6pm along with a bunch of other local creatives including Julia Pott and Daley Walton. Rosie's threatened to sulk and read twilight books all day if no one shows so, you know, serious pain and suffering hinges on your going. Oh, and there'll be cake and tarts too. Check out Rosie's blog for more details. On second thoughts, details or no, check out her blog anyway. Also if you can't make it on Saturday, head over to her Etsy shop to treat your loved ones (or yourself) to one of her creations. Though you'll have to order today if you want to ensure it arrives before Christmas day. Quick, quick! If you miss out, I take full responsibility. But personally, if given the choice between a late present made by the lovely Rosie Miles, and no present from her at all, I would certainly take the former option. I'm sure your family and friends will agree.

P.S. If anyone has/knows of anyone with a teleportation device, I would appreciate your passing on the deets as I'd very much like to be in London for this event this weekend. Thanks in advance darling ducks.

VOTE FOR ME!

You may have noticed the little pink box to the right of the page screaming 'VOTE FOR ME!' This is because Owl and the Grapes has been nominated as Best Australian Fashion Blog! And, to win, I need your help. It takes all of 2 seconds to vote, honest. Go here, click on the Best Fashion Blog category and vote for Owl and the Grapes! Voting is open 'till 20th December. Thank you! You (yes, you!) are lovely.

P.S. Sorry about the superfluous use of exclamation marks! They're like Pringles - once you pop, you can't stop! Also, I'm very excited! Let's win it, baby. Well, actually, let's help me win it, but you know, tomatoes, potatoes.

I Know There's an Answer

Semi recently I was been asked to answer a couple of little questionares. The first was a follow up to the article I wrote for Brighton Frocks on Brighton Fashion Weekend with the purpose of having them publish it on their website (I'll update this post with a link when it is) and the second lot of question and answers was part of my application for a month long internship at 2threads. It was all (until now) sitting unpublished on Bobby's laptop gathering cyber dust and generally being a waste of space so I thought I might post it here. If I've repeated myself (in fact, there's no 'if' in the matter), I invite you to skim or even skip this post.

2THREADS: WHAT IS YOUR ULTIMATE DESTINATION FOR A FASHION FIX? "Earlier this year, whilst in England, I covered the Brighton Fashion Weekend. I spent some time travelling around the back alleys of Europe and trawling through boxes of goodies in tiny vintage shops and totally fell head over boots for the place (on more than one occasion, almost in the literal sense of the phrase). Next time I make my way over I‘d love to cover Amsterdam or Berlin Fashion Week, if only for my own blog, Owl and the Grapes."

LIST YOUR TOP 5 SOURCES FOR FASHION & STYLE INSPIRATION.

1. "I’m constantly in awe of the structure, the peeling paint and the artworks that dress my building. Not to mention the beautiful and creative people it houses.


2. I could go on and on about the wonders of a slick of red lipstick but I fear I’d bore you. There are no downsides. And when it ends up smeared across your face the morning after? Who cares? Clowns are cool.


3. Films, books, comics, photographs and magazines are obvious but priceless sources of inspiration. I love Russh in particular.


4. When I have some internet time on my hands, there are loads of blogs I like to peruse. Photography blogs, writing blogs, fashion blogs and simply unclassifiable blogs.


5. I also often make my way over to a nearby pay-by-the-kilo warehouse, where I trawl through mountains of (mostly rubbish) clothes on the chance that I might come across a gem. Thankfully, I almost always come out with a couple of mind blowing ’80s pieces. I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t influenced my style."
   

IF YOU COULD INTERVIEW ANY DESIGNER OF YOUR CHOICE WHO WOULD IT BE AND WHAT'S THE FIRST QUESTION YOU WOULD ASK THEM?
Whilst I, like most ladies, love Alexander Wang, Preen and Balmain, I don’t think I could resist interviewing Karl Lagerfeld. If only to ask how he comes up with those Twitter gems. “Florals are for middle-aged women with weight problems.” Or, “Fur is not murder, but it is quite expensive.” Wow. Both statements are completely wrong. But still, wow. And you know what? The more he does wrong the more I love him. Once we’d covered the whole “Are you actually mad?” thing, I’d move onto more important issues: Colours, collections and in what year he was really born. I’d quite love to pry my way into his mind and have a swim around.

WHERE WOULD WE FIND YOU ON A SATURDAY NIGHT? Out and about on the bustling Sydney scene (often, wherever free alcohol can be found), ‘networking’ (it’s my new favourite word) and snapping photos. If I’m not out, it’s likely it’s because I’m frickin’ knackered after a hard day’s work running my monthly Vintage and Retro Market from my Surry Hills warehouse. In the case of the latter, I’ll spend my evening drinking smoked tea, reading, blogging, organising my next market and listening to a whole lot of very good music.


BRIGHTON FROCKS: WHY DID YOU ENTER THE BRIGHTON FROCKS COMPETITION? I entered the competition because I thought it would be a great opportunity to gain experience. I simply love fashion and love Brighton so what could be better than being part of the event that marks the combination of the two? As you'll know if you've read my article, I had also never interviewed anybody before, so, while I was super nervous, it was good to get out there and do it. Now, hopefully, next time I do it I'll be a little better and there'll be a little less pee in my pants.

WHY SHOULD PEOPLE CARE ABOUT FASHION? What do you think of when you think of Marilyn Monroe? I think of that white halter neck dress. And Audrey Hepburn? Why, Breakfast at Tiffany's of course, and that stunning black Givenchy dress. Fashion is a way of expressing yourself. 'Don't judge a book by it's cover' is a pretty piece of advice however, unfortunately, it's not at all human nature. Good personal grooming and a solid sense of style are more or less essentials. And anyway, who doesn't like playing dress ups?

WOULD YOU ENCOURAGE OTHERS TO ENTER NEXT YEAR? Yes, of course. It was a fantastic weekend. Everybody involved with Brighton Fashion Weekend is so friendly, and they were all only too keen to have a chat. It's a wonderful chance to make industry contacts and the article was great fun to write. Oh, and I came out with a few goodies too.

WHERE DO YOU HOPE TO FIND YOURSELF IN 10 YEARS TIME? In 10 years time, I intend to be a professional writer. I would love to write for Russh or Frankie; Australia (where I live for most of the year) has some really great publications. I've always wanted to write a book, but I think it's important to find my own voice first. Also, back in my Sydney warehouse, I run a monthly Vintage and Retro Market. I'd love to have the finances to be able to facilitate the entire floor as a store. A space where people could drop in and buy vintage, retro, some new and some old clothes and pretty things, drink coffee made by our (currently non-existent) in-house barista, have a beer and hang out on our (also non-existent) Astroturfed roof. I would also have a cinema room with super comfy little seats and a gigantic projector that screened cult hits and shit we like but no-one else does. Yes, I'd like one of those in Sydney, one in Brighton and one in Berlin please.

Turn It Around

The wonderful, equally talented and beautiful, singer/songwriter Erin Marshall recently inquired as to whether I would be interested in bathing her in some vintage goodness and taking some press shots for her. My instinctive reaction was, admittedly, to simply stand dead still and gawk, rather like a bit of a buffoon. Style and photograph? There are very few things I'd rather do (the only one I can think of is writing with a purpose which, if you take all my blabbing into consideration, rarely happens.) Once my brain kicked back in however, I quickly and enthusiastically accepted. I invited Erin over to my space in Hibernian House (from which I also run my Vintage & Retro Sales on the second weekend of every month) and she jumped, played guitar and swung on swings with incredible enthusiasm whilst I followed her around adjusting bows and belts and shooting shots. As would be expected I suppose, she's similarly excitable on stage, dancing and grinning the whole way through her sets. Indeed, you won't find any shoe gazing at her shows. Keep an eye on her Myspace for info about upcoming gigs and such. Anyway, here's the finished product of the shoot. More photos can be seen on my flickr.

This was part of a very small series of shots taken downstairs in my dear friend Olly's space on Level 3. He was in the midst of a project himself, which involved a video camera (you can see the tripod in the background) and very limited time, so we had all of about one minute to hoist Erin onto the swing and take some photos.

These were taken on the Level 4 courtyard, getting onto which involves quite the struggle, particularly when one's wearing a dress/skirt. Luckily, there were no little rats with spray cans and/or junkies hanging around on this occasion (as there so often are).

The blue '50s suitcase on the very bottom of the pile played a significant part in ensuring no vintage pieces I had picked up got left behind in Europe on my return to the great land of Oz.

For these, we used my housemate Grace's mini piano and a vintage jacket my bestest friend Elle lent me. They were taken on the roof of Hibernian House, a roof which must be tip toed upon, lest one fall through.

The bow in Erin's hair is actually a bowtie I found in England. It required quite the significant amount of positioning just so, so as to prevent it from falling off. The belt belonged to my Mother when she was my age.

Erin's wearing her own dress here, a vintage number she picked up from the markets.




As the sun was setting, we had a play around with the light in our hallway, taking photos with no real expected outcome, the perfect conclusion to what was a lovely day.