ninetwelvetwentyfive

Imagine the Angels of Bread – Martin Espada

This is the year that squatters evict landlords,
gazing like admirals from the rail
of the roofdeck
or levitating hands in praise
of steam in the shower;
this is the year
that shawled refugees deport judges
who stare at the floor
and their swollen feet
as files are stamped
with their destination;
this is the year that police revolvers,
stove-hot, blister the fingers
of raging cops,
and nightsticks splinter
in their palms;
this is the year
that darkskinned men
lynched a century ago
return to sip coffee quietly
with the apologizing descendants
of their executioners.

This is the year that those
who swim the border’s undertow
and shiver in boxcars
are greeted with trumpets and drums
at the first railroad crossing
on the other side;
this is the year that the hands
pulling tomatoes from the vine
uproot the deed to the earth that sprouts the vine,
the hands canning tomatoes
are named in the will
that owns the bedlam of the cannery;
this is the year that the eyes
stinging from the poison that purifies toilets
awaken at last to the sight
of a rooster-loud hillside,
pilgrimage of immigrant birth;
this is the year that cockroaches
become extinct, that no doctor
finds a roach embedded
in the ear of an infant;
this is the year that the food stamps
of adolescent mothers
are auctioned like gold doubloons,
and no coin is given to buy machetes
for the next bouquet of severed heads
in coffee plantation country.

If the abolition of slave-manacles
began as a vision of hands without manacles,
then this is the year;
if the shutdown of extermination camps
began as imagination of a land
without barbed wire or the crematorium,
then this is the year;
if every rebellion begins with the idea
that conquerors on horseback
are not many-legged gods, that they too drown
if plunged in the river,
then this is the year.

So may every humiliated mouth,
teeth like desecrated headstones,
fill with the angels of bread.

so i was invited to attend the launch of the twentysevennames s/s collection.  this sounds fancy but it isn’t really;  the wonderful goodasgold invited their clients to come along for drinks, cupcakes and pretty summer clothes.   seeing as the weather is just about allowing us to think that winter might end — one day, one day — racks of pastel deliciousness were just what was needed.   i grabbed a vitamin water and wandered.

there were pretty cupcakes, although i didn’t get a shot of those.  they were disappearing pretty quick.  fun fact: in new zealand, fashion people actually *eat*. scandal!

but most importantly, the clothes.

(all the above photos by me)

the first, i would happily buy for myself and wear it with cropped khakis and brogues (yes, still).   the second look i think might be a little too pale for me — i am dark-haired with a sort of olivey complexion and i’m not sure i can rock that much pale.   but you know?  this season might be the perfect time to experiment.  cast aside the blacks, the neutrals .. after a long wellington winter full of blacks, greys and the occasional bust-out into dark red, maybe a light shade is just what’s needed.  like a fresh sour sorbet after a too-heavy main course.

anyway.  seeing the collection reminded me of the kind of quirky spin that the best new zealand design is able to put on the overseas trends.   yes, pastels are a clear reference to the northern hemisphere summer trends.  but these clean lines, the perfect proportions with only the merest hint of boho, make me happy.

pretty people, pretty clothes.  thanks, goodasgold and twentysevennames.  really lovely stuff.

unexpected treats in unexpected places.  lake ferry is a tiny village by a sea lagoon at the almost-southernmost point of the north island of new zealand.   we went there a couple of weekends ago .. making the most of a nice day to head out in my temperamental little MG.   the scenery was spectacular, the remoteness really bracing .. and in the local pub (the only place that i could see that was open) they serve truly excellent fish and chips.

it is a beautiful day here in wellington — the sort that makes you feel that spring might one day come.   the sort that makes you forgive the dark and rainy day yesterday.   it’s the kind of day we all need once in a while.   i am not sure what i’m going to do with this lovely day.  but it feels like it might be a day to look forward.  to take a little holiday, even if only for a couple of hours.  and to think about what might come next.

i have so much to tell you that it’s almost hard to know where to start.  but for now, at least a start’s been made.  hi, you guys.  hope you’ve been well.   let’s take this ride together .. what do you say?

sorry about that little unscheduled break.  i started a full-time job which i love but has been taking a lot of my time and energy.  but i have been writing and taking photos and travelling and thinking about fashion, because that is what i *do*.  and now that i am feeling a bit more on top of things, i will be around here a bit more.

anyway. in amongst the other things i have been doing, i went to whanganui for the weekend.  i spent my school days there and still have family there.  so the rockstar and i jumped into my mg and off we drove.  we met my mum and dad there.  and we spent a very pleasant weekend eating, drinking, seeing family and having fun.

whanganui, like many small towns in new zealand, struggled a bit through the 80s and early 90s.  but now, thanks to a thriving art school, it’s a cool place to visit.  there’s enough kitsch (the huge plates of old-skool food at the brick house or charming afternoon teas at reflections cafe at virginia lake, a park around which i walked about a thousand times as a kid) and enough sophistication (the fantastic element cafe on victoria ave, where we had an excellent dinner and a truly amazing plum, blackcurrant and marzipan pie!) to keep any city-type satisfied.   there are a lot of good antique shops and a really nice hotel to stay in.  we had a lovely time.

anyway. how are you?  i’ve missed you.  it’s good to be back.  and i’ll have fashion silliness next time i post.  promise.

xoxo

something bright and cheerful to finish off a perfect weekend.  you know, in wellington the suburb of newtown has a reputation for being a bit ragged and a bit rubbish.  but its rough edges make it all the more interesting after the relatively low-key bohemia of cuba street etc.  and there is colour.  a lot of colour.

as (sir) paul smith says:  you can find inspiration in everything, and if you can’t, look again.  amen to that.

happy week, everyone xxx

standard day-at-home uniform of grey AA t-shirt, calvin klein jeans, random metal belt and boots becomes ..

lunchtastic!  faux fur jacket purchased last weekend at the terrific fast and loose vintage in karangahape rd, auckland .. with tom binns flying skull necklace and obligatory shades (from karen walker) ..

.. to the out-and-out ridic, avec crown lynn swan bought off trademe. which i did not take to lunch, just in case you are wondering.

the rockstar wondered aloud if i might be addicted to shopping.i told him i don’t think it’s that exactly. actual shopping? that endless trawl spending endless money for things you won’t wear, just for the sake of acquiring something new? a “leisure activity” as i think it’s considered now in britain? no. okay, i am not disciplined like the rockstar is, identifying something he needs, searching out a piece that is exactly what he wants, getting things tailored to fit perfectly, etc. i already have more clothes and shoes than i could possibly wear out in a lifetime, so one could argue i do not have a need to buy anything and that any item i purchase is a pure want, a compulsion even. so from that point of view, i suppose, i can see how he might say that.

but. here was my process on this particular day in auckland. i had been looking for the perfect faux fur jacket for a while, because i think it’ll be a useful alternative to heavy coats and parkas during this wellington winter that’s creeping up awful fast. as always, i prefer to buy second-hand if it’s possible. vintage clothes that have made it this far are likely to have been made in new zealand, rather than being sweatshopped somewhere; they will be well-made, having survived at least one owner; and they will not be instantly identifiable as something you purchased on lambton quay (which a waspish shop assistant described to me the other day as looking “more and more like an australian strip mall”, lol). one big disadvantage of shopping the high street in NZ: it has relatively few outlets, so everyone goes to the same places and everyone knows where you got a particular piece and how much you paid for it.

anyway, the vintage stores here in welli-lala had yielded pretty much nothing so far. so when i saw this beauty smiling at me from the racks at fast and loose (and let’s face it; something is always smiling from the racks of fast and loose) i thought, hello lover! it wasn’t so much a random grab as the end of a search for the exactly perfect thing. and as we know, vintage shopping is like that. send out your wish to the vintage fairies and, with enough patience and searching, your wish will come to you.

(as for the crown lynn swan, well. it’s an icon of new zealand design. i know they’re a little played by now, but i still love this kind of kitsch ceramic stuff. i have a big collection of those cabbage leaf plates in storage, in case you doubt me. what?)

i don’t think i am addicted to shopping, then, but i might be addicted to fashion. my eye is constantly searching out the new, the inspiring. it tires quickly and its desire for inspiration needs to be fed. this is why i love thrift/op/charity shopping ..  you never know what you’ll find. go with an idea in your head, as i did, or a totally open mind, and have fun. because, after all, fashion is deadly serious but it should also be fun.

so let’s term it that way. i might be addicted to fashion. but in the end, all that is is an addiction to inspiration, to beauty, to fun. and in any case, addiction implies something that is damaging.  i think in my case it’s entirely healthy. it makes me curious, creative and appreciative of the fabulousness of simple things, like the perfect colour of faux fur or the elegant sweep of a swan’s neck. and that, dear reader, is a good thing. well, i think it is, anyway.

things i am really into today:

- watermelon juice.  a brazilian delicacy and best made now in NZ while the watermelon is still fairly cheap, locally grown and plentiful.  here’s my recipe:  cut a quarter watermelon into large chunks .. seeds in (you can remove the seeds if you like, of course, but brazilian healthy types believe they’re good for the circulation. and also i am lazy).  put into blender.  add filtered water until it reaches 750ml on the side of the blender.  (less water makes for a thicker juice, but it will be more like a smoothie and not so much like a suco brasileiro).   blend.   add a decent drizzle of honey (i usually add a two-count of squeezable arataki).  blend again.   pass through a sieve to get rid of the seed residue.   serve.  accept compliments.

- the men’s section in vintage stores.  i scored a wonderful men’s dress shirt yesterday at fin in newtown.  the whole front and cuffs is made of this fine honeycomb-weave cotton, and it was precisely the right size for me.  another great score:  men’s oxford bags from savemart in upper hutt.  think laterally about men’s vintage:  wide waists can be cinched, long sleeves or legs can be rolled (and in fact often look better that way).  if the fabric is good and the drape works, you will look elegant.   (yes, i need to do an outfit post.  i will, i promise.)

- wednesday nights on tv3! new zealand’s hottest home baker (grayson, i love you!  i so want you to win!) followed by project runway.  you know, i am not sure this ever made it onto the main networks in the UK .. it was always buried away on some obscure satellite channel .. so i had never seen it.   oh my god, best show ever. [edited: dayum, it's actually thursday nights! pox! but i have already set the mysky box, hehe]

- cute iphone apps! my current favourite is one called 30 kittens per second.   cute and bonkers.  and i’m kind of tempted by this.  if only because the first line of the description made me LOL, as i believe the kids are saying these days.  ”Does your iPhone need more kittens? We understand.”

(image from harpers bazaar)

rip, alexander mcqueen.  i’m sad to hear about this, of course i am.  he was a unique and sparkling talent, a visionary.  the only upside i can think of is the extraordinary body of work he left behind.  aimee mullins and her carved legs.  a perfect white dress spray-painted by robots.

others will write better tributes, obviously. but i just wanted to leave this image.  philip treacy and alexander mcqueen, two enormous figures in british fashion, creating something so utterly perfect it takes my breath away.

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.