Heavy Weather

Ol' Sydney town has been incredibly unpredictable on the whole weather front recently. First, we had that bizarre apocalyptic red sand storm, then it was absolutely swelteringly hot and now it just won't stop raining. And I've heard rumours that it isn't going to clear up for another month. Which would kind of be okay, you know, cozy and relaxing; inside, by the non-existent fire (I can be a home-body when required), did we not have to go via the exposed, roof-free balcony to get to our bedroom. It's a strange house and, what's normally a cool feature - stepping out of my room onto the amazing astroturfed balcony every morning is something I very much treasure - becomes the most annoying thing in the world, ever.

"Err, Bobby, why is your hair all wet?"

"I had to go wee."

"So... You pissed in your hair? Wow. This is awkward. You know what, I'm pretty down with most things but that's totally not cool. Like, that's not even kinky-cool."

"What? No. It's raining. And to go to the bathroom one has to go via the balcony. Remember?"

Despite all this doom and gloom, we fought the elements on Saturday in order to do one big Anglicare buy up. We spent four hours in that hell hole and purchased a whole TWELVE kilos of awesome. One party of said awesomeness is this amazing acid wash parka (see below photos). I also picked up the floral top and leopard print leggings which will be washed and hung up by the weekend. So exciting. You wouldn't believe how good our rack of new shit for our market is looking. Like, I think I might actually wet my pants. Oh, wait, I totally already have. Or is it rain? Darn, I have got to stop getting so easily confused.

Anyway, here are some photos of me goofing around in various series of undress. Despite the connotations of that, none of them are sexy, I'm afraid. The up-side of the whole weather debacle however, is the amount of layering I can get away with. Yesterday I wore a jumper ontop of a cardigan. I know, right? That's some fucked up shit.

Parka, floral top and leopard print leggings are all from that second hand pay-by-the-kilo warehouse in Summer Hill that I always bang on about. The little white cardigan and belt were purchased for a couple of dollars courtesy of Vinnies' half price sale last week (it's a charity store, for all you non-Australians). The black leather bumbag, chunky watch and glasses are all from Paddy's Markets. The shoes were from a vintage store in Sydney and the skirt from a vintage store in Paris.

P.S. I'm never taking off this bumbag/watch/glasses/parka. Ever.


P.P.S If you're in Sydney, Vinnies is having yet another half price sale today. Get down there!

Great DJ

Last Thursday night, Marissa (aka DJ Stella) kindly welcomed Bobby and I into her weekly DJing slot at Club 77. We played Blondie, The Cure, Kitty, Daisy & Lewis and many other jingles to compliment her rocking '50s and '60s jangles for an hour or so until the gaggle of club-goers dissipated into the night. Admittedly, there wasn't a massive crowd (see above photo) but nevertheless, do you realise what this all means? We made our debut DJing effort. In other words, we're like totally legitimate, awesome and employable DJs now. Goodbye Bobby and Emma, hello DJ Bobbysix and DJ Meowcat.

Help The Aged

I know that it's a quite (okay, very) likely scenario that you are all completely sick of these dress up party posts but, unfortunately for you, I'm not. And neither is Sydney, apparently, because I don't think I've been to a party since arriving back in the old home-town that wasn't a dress up party. The most recent of this series of splendour was courtesy of the lovely and beautiful Miss Janaki Peart, who celebrated her seventy-fourth birthday in her pretty little inner-west home. We drunk punch from teacups and peered over our spectacles at the young folk in the backyard.

The ol' birthday girl.

Everything's thrifted. Nothing cost over a fiver.

P.S. So many new things to share with you. Studded boots, chunky black watches, computerised sewing machines, owls, black leather bumbags, more glasses... Oh my, more regular posts are needed, I think.

Vintage & Retro Sale at Hibernian House, No. 6

Greetings Sydney-siders!
We wouldn’t be entirely surprised had you thought that, after you guys bought us out CLEAN at last month’s sale, we’d never be back. You’d be wrong however, as we saved some Grade A European stock out the back for another time (read: THIS time), and we’ve been oh-so-busy dashing around town collecting new (old) retro goodies to fill our rails. We've picked up a remarkable amount of goodies, including a pair of beautiful Karen Walker denim shorts, loads of shudderingly cool t-shirts for the boys, leather skirts and shorts, a Diesel check shirt, teddy bear, floral and embroided vests, some number of amazing cropped, midriff-bearing pieces and, of course, florals and great prints in every cut.

We’ll also have refreshments, The Kinks (on the speakers), a comfy couch, shoes, super stylish accessories, bric-a-brac, books and MOUNTAINS OF HAND PICKED VINTAGE & RETRO CLOTHES from loads of cool cats including Marissa Ziesing (of fashion label FTW), Bobby Townsend (of Drum Media), Dominique Legrand, Katrina Noorbergen (of Cassette Kids), stylist Grace Atkinson (from NO magazine), David Abram (of Jingle Jangle) and Emma Daniels (of OwlandtheGrapes.com). It certainly won't just be for the ladies either. We've got three man-oh-man sellers with loads of mantastic pieces. And if it all gets a bit hot and sweaty we'll even crack out the fan for you. Alternatively, grab one of our sweet little one-piece swimsuits.

Almost EVERYTHING in store is around the $20 mark. And when I say almost, I ain't exaggerating. However, do remember that we only be accept cold, hard CASH (we like to do things the old fashioned way). If you do come unprepared however, there’s an ATM just down the street.


Also, now that we’re back from the EU we can finally make this sale a regular by-the-calendar event. So, from here on in, every second weekend of the month, rain, dust storm, apocalypse or shine, you’ll find us up at 601 selling our wares. We’ll also be open longer hours for all you kids who want to sunbathe your little white arse blistering red at the beach. We’ll be open an hour extra either end of the day on Saturday and an hour earlier on Sunday.

We're close to Crown St, Oxford St and pretty much everywhere. You'll be hard pressed to find parking, but be an environmentally friendly one and walk or hop on the public transport to Central Station from which we are less than a minute's walk. Find us on Level 6 of Hibernian House, Surry Hills. Zip up in the lift to level 5 and follow the signs.

If that isn’t enough to have you lining up at 9am, I should also mention that we've been featured all over the joint. Not least of all in a recent issue of Elle Korea and in online publication Two Thousand (who made us out to be much cooler than we actually are. Hah! JUST KIDDING. We really are that cool.)

RSVP on the facebook (if only to show off your unbelievable coolness), invite your friends, bring your housemates and grab a MASSIVE BARGAIN!

SATURDAY 10th OCTOBER: 9am - 6pm
SUNDAY 11th OCTOBER: 10am - 4pm

Home and Away

To celebrate my 21st birthday with my Mother (yes, I'm still, over a week later, celebrating it. Awesome), Mr. Bobby and I were treated by the former to a lovely lunch in a pub in the Northern Beaches. I'd love to show you some food porn but unfortunately by the time I thought to snap some photos my plate of scrumptious salad was half destroyed. Silly fork.


Post beer and such, we drove up to Palm Beach for which Bobby was quite the excited little boy slash fully grown man. In the car, I had to listen to him sing the Home and Away theme tune about a billion times. Okay, according to Bobby, clarification is needed here: It was probably more like three or four times. It was JUST AS PAINFUL. Apparently, because he's English, the fact that the show is absolute rubbish remains an unrealised fact. But what can I say, we're all different G-man, aren't we? Anyway, it was sprinkling and windy and, all in all, not the most pleasant kind of weather for which to be hanging out on the beach, hence we left rather promptly. It was, however, really beautiful. The clouds created such a dramatic atmosphere. It's a pity I'm not The Flame (geddit? Because then I wouldn't have been so cold? No? No, me neither really.)

Batdance

Last Tuesday marked the first birthday of this blog. Check out the first post over here if you don't believe me. And I'm still banging on about the merits of pay-by-the-kilo shopping. Not that much has changed really, has it?

Last Thursday, meanwhile, marked the twenty first birthday of yours truly. Now therein holds some progression. No longer will you see a whiny, drunken and cigarette-puffing Emma collapsing on surprisingly tolerant friend's doorsteps with bleeding legs. Those lovely, lovable friends needn't even give me another thought until 2028, when I will likely have a midlife crisis resulting in similar, if less excusable, antics. Yep, I'm t-w-e-n-t-y-o-n-e. I'm MATURE. Finally, I can legally drink in the US of A, have sex with a porcupine in Japan and drop an exploding shit bomb on John Howard’s doorstep - just for oldtime’s sake.

I watched closely and put on my most threatening face as my very closest friends (some more so in proximity rather than the intimate sense of the phrase - I‘m looking at you, Marissa) marked the 17th September in their diaries/iPhones/blueberries, in preparation of celebrations by way of a themed nighttime picnic on my living room floor. The essential and amazing theme for the night’s escapades was Animal Hybrids. We accomodated for all those wanting to be a lion but were just unable to stop neighing - they came as liorses. And those others that had the purrfect cat ears but really truly oh so much wanted to wear their yellow muu muu? Oh, little camelats, they did have fun. Our living room was their jungle. Get ready for a plethora of photos.

P.S. I totally only recently learnt that I've been pronouncing 'plethora' incorrectly for the better part of my twenty one years. Apparently it's plethora. Not plethora. So... if I use it more than I should, it's because I'm practicing. Plethora. Plethora. See? PROGRESSION.

Bat mask made using some cardboard and the glasses that Dom gave me at our last vintage sale. Bat around the neck from the $2 store.
Top was a donation from my Mum. Bat wings are made out of an umbrella from the op shop. Skirt is an op shop dress all pinned up.
Shoes are old and belt is from a charity shop in England. OH, and my WATCH was a birthday gift from Mr. Bobby. AMAZING.

P.S. If you consider yourself a close friend but didn't receive an invite, more likely than not, it’s because I hate you. Just kidding. Or maybe I’m not? No, really, I am. My lovely house is old and fragile, and wouldn’t have taken the strain of more than the surplus of seven to those who already reside there.

We Dress Up Like Snowmen

Our Vintage & Retro Fashion sale last weekend was such an overwhelming success that I've almost been rendered speechless. Almost. On Saturday, I didn't get a pee break until 4pm because we were just that busy. The little room had a really amazing atmosphere and almost everyone who walked in, walked out clutching an absolute bargain between their little fingers. I want to say a big sloppy thank you to Two Thousand for featuring us again and making us out to be much cooler than we actually are. Hah! JUST KIDDING. We really are that cool. Not so sure about the 'young' bit though (I'm looking at you, Bobby). And, of course, an even bigger thank you to everyone who came. It wouldn't have been the same without you. Seriously, we've tried it sans people before and it just doesn't work. Our next one's on the 10th and 11th of October (we're trying out the whole 'second weekend of every month thing') so come along and hopefully, together, we can make it even bigger, better and bloody more brilliant than the last one.