Nine to Five

As of yesterday I am officially interning at 2threads. The folk there are lovely and thus far my job duties have included nothing but writing a few short articles on the fashion world, snapping the stylish folk around Surry Hills, attending a Cassette Kids gig in Circular Quay and having (oh my, what effort) to take photos of the beautiful lead singer Katrina, amongst others in attendance. All in all, working at 2threads is certainly the best job I've ever had, pay or no pay.

I've posted not one, not two but THREE whole articles on the website already. Granted, they were short, but nonetheless totally awesome. Not that the ladies at 2threads would know, because no one even wanted to proof read the articles before they were published. Don't get me wrong though - this is definitely a good thing, as I did kind of talk about how I reckon Hitler's a babe and, in all honesty, I don't think that's the kind of shit you're supposed to be rambling about on your first day. Check out the fruits of my free labour below.



The easiest DIY you'll ever attempt: Good ol' bum-cheek-exposing denim shorts that Daisy Duke would be proud of.

I'm totally digging the latest trend in Spring footwear: Gladiator sandals for men. Please don't throw rocks at me.

Remember velvet? That gothic, crushed, horrible and unflattering fabric? Well, thanks to Topshop, the velvet dress has made a comeback. But boy, has it changed.

God! Show Me Magic

You see that chick on the far left in the below photograph? The one who, by some incredible coincidence, was standing just one row in front of me at a Jamie T gig we went to a few weeks ago? SHE'S WEARING A BOW ON HER HEAD THAT I HAND-SEWED AND SOLD AT OUR SEPTEMBER MARKET. Awesome? Only a little bit... GOTCHA! Seriously? It's probably the most awesome thing to ever happen to anyone.


It has to be said however, that she took my floral bow off half way through the gig to place upon her head a sailor's hat. Which she, later that evening, removed to replace with a headband. So, you know, it could just be that she was a complete head wear slut and she didn't actually like my bow at all. It could just be that my bow was one of hundreds that day. But, just like getting down and dirty with an ol' weathered prostitute, just because she's a head wear slut doesn't make my five minutes of loving any less awesome.

Does anyone else have photos of leading ladies/grumbling gentlemen in our vintage/retro/handmade wears? Email me at owlandthegrapes at gmail with photos of you, friends and/or strangers rocking shit bought from one of our Vintage & Retro Sale weekends and I might even feature you here, on the blog. I promise I won't call you a slut. And if I do (because I have been known to lie, though the remainder of this sentence is entirely sincere), believe me when I say that I mean it in the most affectionate way possible.

Disclaimer: The aforementioned 'ol' weathered prostitute' is purely a figment of my imagination.

White Wedding

What a day. I feel completely secure in publicly declaring the wonderful wedding of the fabulous couple, Max and Helen, as an utter, hiccup-free success. Except for that time I slipped down the stairs. That was a bit of a hiccup. But I recovered quickly, with my glass of gin and something or other barely scathed. And that's the main thing, isn't it? Regrettably, I barely got a sober word with the bride and groom throughout the event, and won't do again before I leave back to Australia, as they're now on their honeymoon. Watching them mingle and laugh their way through the day slash evening was a good compromise, however. I don't think I've ever seen two happier people. The thought's crossed my mind that perhaps that was because they got away with only having to converse with me for five minutes tops but let's not go there. Again.

Also, I'm fully aware that I'm going straight to hell for taking photographs in a 'Please no photographs' church but you know what? No. Wait. That's all. Hell. Yep, can't really argue with God can you? Because, you know, last time I checked I couldn't have an argument with a unicorn either. And I did check. He point blank refused to acknowledge me. Waving that horn about, eating grass, flying all around the place. Arsehole (that's directed at the unicorn, not God. God doesn't have an Arsehole. He's HOLY.)



We all positively stuffed our faces at the reception mostly courtesy of Emma (below, with her husband Ford), who made not only brownies but oh-my-honey-cake.



Post-cake, we hopped on a coach to the next village over; a quaint little place with no street lights. Don't ask me how they walk home at night. I suspect they are all anti-vampires (like anti-christs but not), and that they will explode into flames if they go out at night. And when you have anti-vampires flamin' up everywhere, who needs street lights?

We were asked to detail a wish for the couple and hang it on the apple tree which was soon to be planted in their garden. If I'm completely honest, I don't actually remember what I wrote but I do remember distinguishing myself from the other Emma (who is known as Captain), by explaining that I was merely the co-pilot (a position which, in retrospect, has nothing to do with captains or ships), a fact which would have been quite obvious no doubt sans explanation, if only by my overzealous use of 'awesome' and 'like'. I'm pretty sure I broke the world record for the number of times 'awesome' was used in a wish.

Bobby had to do a reading and he was SHITTING his pants. Not literally of course, that would be disgusting. It went down a treat however (the reading, not the shitting) and was followed by the best men's speech (below). Ford, Ben and Ryan - the three best men - charmingly chattered away, humorously following a 'Speeches for Dummies' (or something to that effect) paperback.

Wonderfully feathered hat and patent heels were a few quid from Scope (a charity shop),
the glomesh little bag I found in another cluttered charity shop in Eastbourne,
the dress I made (sans pattern) from some fabric we found in Berlin
and the patent bow I hand made.

Although I feel that it hardly needs to be said, given the photos and the nature of the party, I had the most brilliantly wonderful time at the absolutely amazing event and I wish the now-married couple the world. That's right, THE WORLD.