Prep school

'Preppy' (short for 'preparatory') style originated during the 1960s from those elite New England schools of America and it's never really gone away since. Countless fashion tribes, labels and socio-economic demographic groups the world over have adopted and created their own versions, or simply subverted preppy.

When I first visited Paris almost a decade ago, I was surprised that preppy (from casual to luxe and any other degree in between) was the style of choice for most of the city's dwellers. Why was the flamboyance of the haute couture shows not reflected on the streets? When I got to know some Parisians, I began to understand that the city, where France's political and economic power lie, was, for the most part, quite conservative. But the French, even while garbed simply, express their individuality, their taste, with little flourishes - an unexpected scarf fabric, a surprisingly heeled boot, a contrasting jacket detail. Minimalism is king in Paris, but minimalism with a subtle twist.

Shortly after, I discovered Parisian brand APC and its simple, beautifully constructed pieces.

It was love at first sight.

From Autumn/Winter 2009/10:

Evolution 2

It's been a long, tiring week. I've been learning new things, thinking in new ways, and rediscovering pastimes which I enjoyed a long, long time ago.

Like drawing. It was with shock, and a surprising sense of relief, that I picked up a pencil and began to sketch. I used to spend hours at school drawing trees, horses, women in fancy clothing I wished I owned... the things which little girls love to draw. Sure, my current level of drawing skills are nothing to write home about. But I'm not sure why I ever stopped.

Playing with paper is another activity. Just the simple act of cutting, shaping and arranging paper gave me a wonderful, unexpected sense of coming home.

Here's another recently constructed 3D paper sculpture.

I'm an Amish kindergarten lumberjack and I'm okay...

APC Madras Autumn/Winter 2009/10. Part Scandinavian lumberjack. Part 1970's kindergarten mum. A little bit Amish. And French insouciance all through and through. So much more lovely than Madras Spring/Summer 2009/10 which was all primary colours, monkey prints and romper suits. This season is truer to the main APC line.

Excitingly, I've discovered a lovely Melbourne store which stocks Madras. Now all I have to do is work out my budget...

Getting to grips with the GIMP

'lomo-fication', cross-processing, retro/vintage-effects (which I am quite partial to)... the world is your oyster these days for all photography geeks without access to processing studios and expensive equipment. All you need is a computer, digital camera and relevant software (in my case, GIMP) and away you go!

I'm a novice at this sort of thing, but the art of processing digital photography may well become a new addiction.

A few experiments - with varying degrees of success - below.

biblio-

Heaven forfend, you should call me a bibliomaniac. History abounds with dastardly fiends who have stolen, been excommunicated or even wreaked war all in the name of fuelling their book fetish. The most anyone could accuse me is of accidentally absorbing people's books into my collection. And in my defence, I shall note that any number of folk have absorbed my books into their libraries!

But I do love a good book. And one with a beautifully-designed cover even more so. My 'to-be-reads' (currently numbering approximately 30) sitting in a pile by my bed never fails to give me an incredible sense of geekish comfort. And one day, I shall have a room lined with shelves from floor to ceiling and each shelf shall be filled with book upon book upon book...

Since returning to Melbourne, I have wondered how I would to fuel my bibliomaniacal book hoarding tendencies. At an average of AUD$30 per paperback, books in Australia are horrendously pricey, compared to the United Kingdom where, if you time things right, you can pick up a great read for around £7-£8. But fortunately, I recently came across this place. A glass facade and a long floor-to-ceiling window means you are not stumbling around an enclosed, airless flourescent-illuminated space so typical of the usual discount book store. Wooden shelving displays modern editions of books old and new - all with gorgeous covers (I noted many editions by Vintage). Again, quite atypical of a discount book store. And with the average paperback price of AUD$10 and friendly staff, you couldn't really ask for more. In short, a discount book store like one I have never come across before.

And so (*hands rubbing together in glee*) my dream of a library which will one day eventually conquer the world remains unchecked!

Here are a few recent biblio-themed photos.

Method to their Madness

Mad Men kills me.  The frocks.  The repression.  The surreptitious glances.  The oh-so-very-proper enunciation.  The things left unsaid.  The fabulous 1960s interiors.  How the boys of Sterling Cooper always hand whiskies to colleagues popping around for a chat.  The constant smoking.  The ambiguity of the characters - is Betty totally bonkers or just acting out?  How one can despise Don in an episode, yet cheer him on in the next?  The sometimes uncomfortable depiction of 1960s American mores.  The manly maleness of Don Draper. The little, maddening clues which creator Matthew Weiner leaves, which transform each episode beyond soap, beyond pure drama, into an intricate jigsaw puzzle of emotion and motive pulled apart each week by the ravenous hordes populating a host of Mad Men blogs.  Oh, and did I mention the frocks (and suits)?

Here are a few, taken from here.

Evolution

I recently had to produce a 3D paper sculpture, inspired by something I had come across, to a certain brief; it had to be organic, somewhat architectural, fit on an A4 base and be made out of white paper.

The trees would not thank me for my various experiments and neither would my (imaginary) cleaner for the myriad scraps of paper which littered my room like confetti during my endeavours.  But, apart from the stress of deadline and the fact that I was calling on parts of my brain which had long lain dormant and creaking them into gear was protracted and painful, it was a lot of fun.

The initial inspiration.