Posts Tagged ‘camerabag’
1. mother’s day flowers from L. beautiful dragon tulips.
2. me and the baixinha
3. smoked mackerel and potato hash at floridita’s. one of my favourite things to eat.
4. fashionable water at la bella italia, petone.
5. macarons at la cloche, thorndon.
6. water at the chocolate fish cafe, shelly bay.
food, love, our daughter. this is what life has been about lately.
a short trip on good friday. ice creams and sea air .. and L’s first look at the sea
(hokey pokey. of course. and it was delicious.)
more from our weekend to come. hope yours was delicious, too. xoxo
sometimes the simplest things are the best.
1. above, a perfectly simple lunch at nikau cafe in civic square. grilled halloumi, perfectly ripe tomatoes dressed with a faint sprinkling of oregano and a goodly pinch of salt. a squeeze of lemon, a slice of grilled bread. damn, it was good.
2. via the mighty boon, an important question: is moleskine going too far with their new offerings? their iOS app certainly sounds pretty rubbish. i used to be a die-hard moleskine devotee but lately i’ve been craving something new. again, the key might be keeping it simple. note to self offers elegantly designed notebooks, made in NZ and with a perfectly small range. i’m going to order some.
3. mondegreen is getting a lot of noise for bringing pamela love’s jewellery to NZ, but for me their dresses are the real draw. considered, clean, lovely materials. i can’t decide between the bambina in seal grey and the ma belle. now that the weather is turning decidedly autumnal in wellington (read: horizontal rain and 120kph winds the other day) sweatshirt dresses are an extremely good move.
4. a sunny day, a walk along the waterfront with my two loves. coke zero in a glass bottle as a treat, sitting in the shade and watching the leaves against the sky.
well hello there, gentle readers. i sorta took a little break there, didn’t i?
the reason is this:
yes, there has been something of a population explosion here at ninetwelvetwentyfive. in early february i gave birth to a gorgeous baby girl.
what, you mean i didn’t say anything here?
well, there were reasons, i guess. i wasn’t sure that i wanted to be so public about the details of my pregnancy. it also wasn’t a particularly stylish time, let’s say. you northern hemisphere chicas don’t know how good you have it. here in NZ, maternity clothes are either extremely expensive and corporate looking (and i was not about to drop several hundred bucks on something i’d only wear for a couple of months) or super-cheap, probably sweatshopped and reeking of VOCs. there’s not a lot in between, at least, not that i could find. (oh, and proprietors of maternity boutiques should feel free to e-mail me telling me how wrong i am. i’d love to compile a list of sources for other suddenly-fashion-challenged mamas.)
so style blogging became a little tricky for a while. at least for me. others are doing better: the wondrous miz fashionwestie is looking utterly fabulous as she progresses through The Miracle Of Womanhood. i bought a couple of pairs of maternity skinny jeans (irony!) and a really cool wrap dress from womama. apart from that, i lived in tunic dresses, the aforementioned skinnies and high heels. not quiiiite blogworthy.
but now miss L is here, i am back in my normal clothes and it is coming into winter. and all my favourite designers are having really, really strong seasons. ooh yes. while i was pregnant, i had quite a bit of time to think about a new personal approach to style. i’ll talk about that a bit more in an upcoming post.
and then there is this whole new life, this whole new person, to write about. don’t worry, this isn’t going to become a mama-blog. not that there is anything wrong with mama-blogs. but i figure if you want to read about nappies, organic amber teething beads and such, there are lots of women out there writing far better about it than i can.
instead, i may well write about what an awesome person my little girl is and how, despite being unable to talk or even hold her head up unaided, she is my best little buddy. how the rockstar is an amazing daddy and how she gazes at him with her big blue baby eyes. and how she already has an impressive wardrobe of shoes (people call them “booties” but we know better, hehe) and likes it when her mama wears breton stripes. it’s the black and white, apparently. newborns dig monochrome. very directional.
all this to come. for now, i am just easing back into this blogging lark. so, hi there! thank you for still reading! why don’t you leave a comment and tell me what you’ve been up to all this while?
i am back in wellington, you guys, but i still dream of the sea. we had a wonderful few days in são paulo (family craziness, lots of hugs and incredible pizza) and then headed to rio where we had the use of a marvellous apartment in ipanema .. there were days on the beach, evenings walking along copacabana watching the throngs, nights wandering aimlessly while sweet smelling tropical trees drenched the dark streets in heavy scent. it was just perfect. but it’s nice to be home, too.
while i was away i put together a little series of articles about brazilian street food and i’m going to post them here .. along with the usual quantity of daftness about shoes and style, of course. in time, i may decide to separate parts of the blog .. traditional wisdom dictates of course that fashion and food don’t combine, although traditional wisdom dictates a lot of bullshit also. but! for the meantime, i hope you’ll enjoy this mishmash of things that i find wonderful. because i enjoy bringing them to you.
in case you are not a wellingtonian or a new zealander (or, i guess, a rugby fan, tho i’m guessing not many of you who visit here will be) you might not know that once a year wellington hosts the irb rugby sevens tour. the rugby almost seems like an afterthought, though. it’s the party that matters. people dress up in fancy dress, and *boy* do they dress up. a lot of care, imagination and thought goes into the costumes, which are then often trashed by two days and nights of drinking and debauchery. this year norman jay played in courtenay place and he said it was the best street party he’d played since the notting hill carnival.
anyway. i decided it was better to leave my fancy cameras at home this year. but i did manage to snap a few pix of the revellers:
(these guys were dressed like giant crabs. or maybe crayfish. the iphone’s weeny lens couldn’t cope, so it turned out this rather abstract shot instead .. but i still like it.)
(it also didn’t much like the strobe lights at norman jay. but, happy accidents, etc.)
so, fashion report.
the most popular costume: angels/fairies. male and female. actually, probably more male than female. take from that (and new zealand’s oft-quoted maxim of where-men-are-men-and-sheep-are-nervous) what you will.
the best costume: well, my personal favourite were the video-game-inspired groups. people dressed up as tetris shapes. as pac-man plus ghosts. as the mario brothers (there were many, but i never get sick of them).
what i would have gone as, had i been so inclined: a pox on these costumes for women that seem to involve the word “sexy” automatically; sexy nurse, sexy policewoman, sexy traffic warden, sexy rugby ref, etc. i’d personally love to be part of a phalanx of anna wintours. or karl lagerfelds. that would rule.
what i felt was sorely lacking: where were the pregnant schoolgirls? or the local order of the sisters of perpetual indulgence? personally i don’t think any party’s complete without them.
the sevens party is clearly not about fashion in the strict sense. but for two days a year, wellingtonians get to let it all hang out. wear whatever they want, no matter how ridiculous. act however they want, no matter how outrageous. grown men get to embrace each other and grab each other’s bums etc in shows of affection which border on the homoerotic. it’s fantastic. and then, monday morning .. it was as if nothing had happened. the streets were clean, the sunlight was bright, the crowds lurching off to work dressed in black and grey and navy. because, after all, wellington may host a great party .. but at the end, it’s still wellington. and we love her for it.
the rockstar and i got back from brazil on the morning of the 31st. thirty hours of travel and we were wiped out .. valiant efforts to stay awake came to nothing and we slept most of the day, waking in time to see the fireworks in auckland live on bbc world news. i was really not in the mood to get dressed up and go out but the rockstar insisted. so at about 3am, we ventured out. courtenay place was carnage, all the good bars were either full or closing. but i charmed a bouncer into letting us into a place that seemed pretty jumping, and indeed it was .. full of young drunk people dancing to house music. i decreed dancing was the order of the evening and so we danced a lot, drinking steinlager pure from long-necked bottles and smiling like crazy people. another bar, giggling at completely wasted people, nipping into burger king where i had a chicken-pineapple burger bought for me — i ate it because i felt bad, but that’s the first time i’ve eaten chain-store burgers in about 15 years and nothing’s changed :-/ but somehow it felt right, as we wandered home watching the sky get lighter and the sun rising .. not for the first time, thanking the universe for the blackout curtains in the bedroom. it was an unexpectedly excellent night and was the perfect farewell to a year that’s been crazy delirious fun. i can’t wait to see what 2010 will bring.
i owe you about a dozen posts about brazil and you shall have them. i got kind of busy there for a while, but i have a lot to tell you. for now, though, the rockstar and i are heading to napier for a couple of days. see you soon.
because my dear darling chuck taylors are pretty old and full of holes, and they let in water. where i am going (brasília, in a week, in the rainy season) that ain’t good.
okay, so they’re not a brand new pair of loubs (stifles yawn) or a funky pair of vintage somethings. but i tell you what: these bright green kicks make me very happy when i look at my feet. and you can’t ask for more than that from a shoe, really.
(blazer stella mccartney for h&m, old and much loved; t-shirt that says “j’aime paris”, lazy oaf; goat’s skull necklace, comfort station; jeans, uniqlo; shoes, chucks. of course.)
this used to be my uniform, this outfit: jeans, chucks or high heels, t-shirt, blazer. i used to wear it, or a variation of it, a lot. it’s kind of perfect in some ways: easy to throw together, comfortable, funky but a little bit smart (that’d be the stella). work-wise, it was suitable for all but the most formal of situations. it became my signature.
i’ve diversified a bit since then. a desire to push boundaries has come upon me, a desire to break out of the cliches we build for ourselves. a new-found confidence makes me realise i don’t give a toss if people stare .. in fact, that harry winston quote about how people will stare and we should make it worth their while .. i’ve taken that a bit more to heart. i no longer want to dress safe. right now, i’m the happiest i’ve ever been in my life and that’s showing in how i put myself together. every day is a new adventure and every time i open my wardrobe i feel inspired to create something new.
regardless. some days, jeans-blazer-good-shoes is all i want to wear. and today in wellington, it felt right. the rockstar said i looked “very cosmopolitan”. pois é.
anyway. happy weekend, y’all. i shall be spending mine going to a friend’s gig, the farmers’ market, possibly the new dowse gallery .. and prowling around wellington in my new green shoes
taken with my iphone, tweaked with the utterly fantastic camerabag. happy fall, y’all.
(better photo coming soon. promise.)
so mallory is right .. my about page is a little opaque. i currently live in london and have done for ten years. but i am about to move back to new zealand to be with the love of my life. the rockstar is charming, fearsomely intelligent and has the softest lips in the world. he is worth moving half-way round the planet for, believe me.
but i have been in london a long time, and one of my slight fears is that i will miss my adopted city very, very much. a lot has happened to me in the decade i’ve been here: i’ve travelled widely, loved immoderately, written books and taken photographs that have appeared in national newspapers. i’ve been married and separated, happy and sad. i’ve made some of the best friends anyone’s ever had. i’ve had tears come to my eyes from this city’s beauty and its cruelty. i have lived in this country nearly half my life, and it feels like home.
i worry that when i go back to new zealand, it might seem like i never left. hence this tattoo.
the word comes from a couplet written by sir thomas more. go where we may – rest where we will/eternal london haunts us still. when i look at the word on my wrist, it will remind me of ten magical, beautiful, heartbreaking years. and it will remind me of why i stayed but also why i left. that even though i love it, and even though it haunts me, i left the city behind .. because what is to come will be even better.