Life Lesson #218: Don't do a Tantalus

No matter how much you covet, desire, lust after, fall in love with what you perceive as the most beauteous, the most perfect, the most glorious of footwear, if the shoes don't fit, leave them be.

In a irrational fit of longing and befuddled by the animal print, the velvety touch of pony skin, the artfully dishevelled leather bow, the delicate curves of the shoe which make the wearer feel simultaneously like a ballet dancer with tiny, delicate footsies, Audrey Hepburn and leftbank Parisian (not mutually exclusive things, admittedly), I purchased these lovelies. Which are half a size too small and give me huge blisters on my heels and my toes within an hour of traipsing about in them.

I've tried stuffing them with wet newspaper, placing plastic bags filled with water in them before putting them in the freezer and even paid for them to be professionally stretched. All for naught. Pony skin, it would seem, does not stretch like leather does.

And now they sit in my wardrobe, tantalising out of wear. As happened to Tantalus, the rather nasty ancient Greek king whose eternal punishment was to stand below vines and their bounty of grapes which receded from his grasp each time he reached towards them to quench his thirst and hunger.

I wonder if there was any way to encourage one's feet to shrink?

Peppermint and English Toffee Tea

You can blame a childhood spent poring over Enid Blyton books.  As a child, I was particularly entranced with her description of all the yummy things scoffed by Jo, Bessie and Fanny in the Enchanted Wood with their friends, the folk of the Faraway Tree.  Pop Biscuits which went 'pop' when you sank your teeth in and filled your mouth with honey.  Google (!) Buns which contained a large currant filled with sherbet which would fizz and froth when you bit into it.  Toffee-Shocks which grew larger and larger the longer one sucked on them, until it was impossible to speak whereupon the sweet would burst and disappear. Hot-Cold Goodies which once the chocolate-coated outside was sucked off, became incredibly cold - so cold you couldn't bear it, and then would became warm, until the heat was unbearable, upon which it would switch back to being cold.

So when I came across 'Peppermint and English Toffee Tea' in my local supermarket, I became all nostalgic for the descriptions of imaginary food which haunted my childhood, England in general, and its toffee and its tea, and the box quickly joined my basket of groceries.

Granted, Peppermint and English Toffee Tea is not as crazy or impossible as the treats of the Faraway Tree, but the combination of peppermint and toffee in liquid form borders on the slightly improbable.

In reality, there was a distinct lack of a peppermint tang to the tea.  Or if one existed, it was completely drowned out by the English toffee notes.  Which made for the rather odd sensation of drinking a warm, waterey toffee liquid.  Not unpleasant, but strange.

Just as the children felt when sampling one of the Faraway Tree goodies for the first time.  I'd prefer a Toffee Shock any day but in the absence of these, English Toffee Tea will do.

My Wanderin' Days

Looking for work is a necessary evil and an administrative bore, but one should not overlook the potential and the pure beauty of the state of unemployment.  Such as being able to wander around on a bright, sunny spring day, quaffing chai lattes and/or coffee and admiring the quirky kitsch aesthetic of Melbourne's inner suburbs, unharassed by the weekend hordes.

Seven years is a long time and I cannot remember whether Collingwood and Fitzroy were as full of boutiques selling all manner of lovely things then as compared to now. But who's quibbling?







[caption id="attachment_564" align="aligncenter" width="246" caption="A 'doilied' tree."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_565" align="aligncenter" width="246" caption="Flags made out of tea towels."][/caption]

Toasty Spaces

Huzzah! Toast's Autumn/Winter 2009 homewares catalogue is out!  Dare I say it?  Dare I say that the rustic, pastoral, boho interiors and dilapidated luxe furniture outglam the homewares in more than a few shots? The fish swimming up the stairwell is particularly lovely.

Mr Morris

Have nothing in your houses which you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.

- William Morris (1834-1896)

Clean.  Clear.  Declutter.  Edit.  Re-edit.  Recycle.  Amalgamate.  Store.

Spring cleans always provide a nostalgic, sometimes horrifying (I wore that?!) ride.  Even more so when the clutter dates back decades to childhood.  Mr Morris' quote sets out useful criteria for a sentimental hoarder such as myself.  Additionally, I'm holding onto the creed that your things should reflect who you are.  Things not doing so and claiming space in your home (and your life!) should be let go.

It was a stocktake that began in the months before I left London; a stressful, sometimes haphazard, frantic process to reduce seven years' of clutter to things encapsulating my time in London for shipment to Melbourne.  Interestingly, a London friend, La Finch, decluttered whenever she could.  She's a minimalist gal, and given the space constraints in her London flat, it was a necessarily constant activity.  I don't think I could ever do it on a frequent basis.  I like letting things lie, and seeing how and where my feelings for them develop.

There are a number of things I got rid off in London which I regret.  But still, precious space is a fair exchange.  Most of my current Melbourne detritus is hitting charity shops and ebay.  But a few items - long-forgotten but happily rediscovered - have made the cut.

[caption id="attachment_394" align="aligncenter" width="246" caption="An intricately beaded cardigan which belonged to my mother."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_396" align="aligncenter" width="246" caption="A Hello Kitty table mirror."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_399" align="aligncenter" width="246" caption="A set of small chinese crocheted dolls."][/caption]

Spring and Liberté

Thunderstorms, sudden hail showers and bursts of brilliant sunshine.  It's spring as usual, in Melbourne town.  And a young filly's thoughts turn to fields, frolics, flowers and... frocks!  And there's nothing like a new frock to make a girl feel light on her toes, a spring song trilling in her heart, even as it's pouring outside.

It will be a Liberty print frock for me this year.  Liberty prints are always perfect for spring - pretty but not country kitsch and evokes childhood memories of Ladybird books, school fêtes, tea parties, cupcakes and all things crafty.

APC came out with a few stunning creations earlier this year, for the Northern Hemisphere Spring/Summer 2009.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="360" caption="Tatum Liberty Print Summer Dress, A.P.C."][/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="360" caption="Poppy and Daisy Print Summer Smock Dress, A.P.C."][/caption]

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="360" caption="Bourton Liberty Print Crochet Dress, A.P.C."][/caption]

Cacharel also celebrated its fiftieth anniversary in April 2009 with a re-edited collection of its original Liberty print collaboration of the 1960s.

[caption id="attachment_373" align="aligncenter" width="360" caption="Green Liberty Print Apron Dress, Cacharel."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_375" align="aligncenter" width="360" caption="Halterneck Summer Dress, Cacharel."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_377" align="aligncenter" width="360" caption="Green Floral Button Through 70s Dress, Cacharel."][/caption]

But I've found a couple of other lovely Liberty print dresses at Nadinoo, a British designer based in Germany.





Or, maybe a frock won't do.  Perhaps a scarf.  Hermés has jumped into the Liberty love-in with a range of Liberty print scarves which will be available soon.

[caption id="attachment_331" align="aligncenter" width="371" caption="(Image taken from the Guardian)"][/caption]

Honestly! What's a girl to do?

Ponyo

I recently popped along (on cheapie Tuesday) to see Ponyo, the newest offering from one of my favourite directors, Hayao Miyazaki.

A version of Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid, Ponyo is the name of a goldfish who befriends Sosuke, a five year old human boy. She forms an attachment to Sosuke and yearns to leave her home, the ocean, and become a little human girl, against the wishes of Fujimoto, her sea sorceror father.  So far, so fairytale. But a Miyazaki film has never taken the traditional route, in plot or execution.  Ponyo's wish upsets the balance of nature and causes a tsunami and she and Sosuke must set out, without adult help, to make this wrong right.

The film features the usual Miyazaki elements - a young, feisty, independent-minded heroine; strong, older female characters, a good dose of magic and even greater lashings of whimsy.  And his films, magical though they may be, are more often than not about growing up and accepting responsibility, as well as subtle (and not so subtle, in the case of Princess Mononoke and Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind) statements about the damage which humankind is wreaking on the environment.  But his films are never gauche or sentimental. Rather Miyazaki's strength lies in his skill in creating quiet moments - when his characters cook up a meal and sit down to eat, or have an out-of-sorts blue day, or experience the pain of a having to make difficult choice - without veering into Disney-like schmaltz.

He is also an old school animator, preferring hand-drawings (he drew many of the 17,000 plus drawings for Ponyo) to CGI. Apparently he lambasted his son Goro, the director of Studio Ghibli's last offering, Tales from Earthsea, for utilising too much CGI.  Handdrawn animation might sound quaint and even a little yawnsome, but when it's Miyazaki at the helm, you know you're going to be in for a visual treat.  Miyazaki's rendering of the underwater realm (which in this film substitutes for the sky and allows the director to indulge in his passion for animating flight, or swim, in this case) and its inhabitants, including dolourous fish, lugubrious octopii and bulbous jellyfish, is magical.

It's a lovely film, aimed for the younger age bracket rather than some of his other offerings like Spirited Away or Howl's Moving Castle. But it's still a wonderful, engaging watch for big kids of all ages.

A few stills from the movie below, taken from the official Australian site.



[caption id="attachment_292" align="aligncenter" width="405" caption="Fujimoto's submarine"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_303" align="aligncenter" width="417" caption="Sosuke finds Ponyo"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_293" align="aligncenter" width="405" caption="Ponyo and her sisters"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_289" align="aligncenter" width="420" caption="Sosuke's mother, Lisa, takes the children home"][/caption]