just a quickie

So. I'm sitting cross-legged on my couch in my apartment, watching Will&Grace while i smother rice crackers in hummus.  I had one of those infuriatingly irritating I-Just-Want-Tear-My-Hair-Out-And-Yell-At-Everyone-On-The-Phone day. Seriously, people (read: magazine readers) are annoying. And the trains were late going to work <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">and</span> coming home today. And i got screamed at by a woman at Martin Place because i didn't give up my seat for her pregnant daughter (i was supposed to notice a three-week fetus?) And i spilt water all over my mac keyboard and had to spend half an hour arguing with the IT boys trying to negotiate a new one AND...<div><br /></div><div>nah, rant over. I'm off to stand on my head at yoga to try and squash all this negativeness out of me. Tomorrow night i'm going to help Samsung celebrate it's 21st birthday but i promise you all a late-night post cheerfully mocking all of Sydney's appliance A-list...</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div><div><br /></div><div>ps. Karl Lagerfeld + the Fug Girls = <a href="http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/go_fug_yourself/2008/10/superman_fugs.html">hilarity</a></div><div><div><br /></div></div>

just a quickie

So. I'm sitting cross-legged on my couch in my apartment, watching Will&Grace while i smother rice crackers in hummus.  I had one of those infuriatingly irritating I-Just-Want-Tear-My-Hair-Out-And-Yell-At-Everyone-On-The-Phone day. Seriously, people (read: magazine readers) are annoying. And the tra…

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the castle in the forest

Most of the time, i <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/09/chaos-theory.html">love living in Kings Cross</a>. the noise, the stereotypes, the contradictions, the grit and the grime and the bright lights; it all feels a part of me, knitted deep in my being. Like i was always meant to end up here, living a faux sort of bohemian life. That being said, sometimes this place breaks my heart. It is slowly corrupting me, forcing me to realise that not all in the world is good and fair.<div><br /></div><div>Last night, around 2am, when the moon was high in the sky and the hemisphere teetered in that impossible time between yesterday, today and tomorrow, i was awaken by two people having noisy, awkward, drunken sex. They were squatting down in the alleyway that my apartment windows look out onto; her blonde head was jammed into the cold concrete, his was balding and bobbing up and down. </div><div><br /></div><div>The streets were bare, the corners and alleyways sunk in darkness -- a rarity for the early hours of Sunday morning in the cross. A hazy film had drifted over the city as if, without the intense activity of the imbibers, it too had fallen into an uneasy depression. Like usual, my windows were flung open -- it is not uncommon for me to overhear going-ons in the alleyway; when sex is being traded for drugs or the drunk partygoers are trashing a car, i often make the practised call to KX police station, staying awake until the gentle roar of the marked car rolls into vision, and i can unclench my pillow from my sweaty hands.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Back to last night. After they'd pulled their clothes back on, the man and woman slumped against the dirty brick of my building, sticking their feet into the gutter where beer bottles and the stump of cigarettes lay rotting. They talked... no, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">she</span> talked, wailed, sobbed, swore and shouted. He listened, only sporadically would a drunken slur of 'baby, it's all right. baby, give me a hug. baby..." come out of his mouth.</div><div><br /></div><div>When you overhear someone else's life story, their sins and hopes and regrets, their time in prison and the 7 years they were abused as a child, you get trapped in a strange mix of emotions. I feel sad, of course, but the sadness you feel when watching a film, or listening to a heart-wrenching song. It draws emotions, but a sort-of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">detached</span> emotion -- knowing you can't help or fix or totally understand the situation. </div><div><br /></div><div>And i feel a little violated too; like i've been forced to read a stranger's private diary. That sinking-stomach feeling when you've been told a secret you know you can never tell. Being witness to such absurdities blackens my heart a little more each time; it honestly all frightens me and makes my little world of books and writing seem altogether rich and terribly safe.</div><div><br /></div><div>I grew up knowing i was 'lucky'; living here reiterates it that much more. Please don't take for granted what you have; if you are loved and have somewhere to sleep at night, isn't that enough, at least for right now?</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div>

the castle in the forest

Most of the time, i love living in Kings Cross. the noise, the stereotypes, the contradictions, the grit and the grime and the bright lights; it all feels a part of me, knitted deep in my being. Like i was always meant to end up here, living a faux sort of bohemian life. That being said, sometimes t…

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it's raining, its pouring... pancakes?

happy wednesday dear readers. i have to 'fess that tonight i did this:<div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i1lF6D8frfw&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i1lF6D8frfw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div> </div><div>(minus the cute boy, the New York background and the gyrating hip movements)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div>...and then i ate this:</div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259968206429238610" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfaTKmjTKHRps5QN8Hkt1mSBZsZ36JnuRuy5RcqKxA5ygXdTutJ5GyQd3bHYZ62inmsHjio0dwNuDjwxsqpFfWy3pwf7Q37AxcNRMOlfg8Ac6vMoJBFOX0pmmqDIaX4ntbxzMA-b_o-0/s320/pancake.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I blame it entirely on the sudden shift in weather; the early evening darkness and the splotchy pitter-patter of sporadical rain makes me crave warm, comforting food. Am feeling a tad bit seasick now though... 'tis a very good thing the pancakes didn't come first in that chain of events. </div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div></div></div></div>

it's raining, its pouring... pancakes?

happy wednesday dear readers. i have to 'fess that tonight i did this: (minus the cute boy, the New York background and the gyrating hip movements)...and then i ate this: I blame it entirely on the sudden shift in weather; the early evening darkness and the splotchy pitter-patter of sporadical rain…

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hello monday

<div style="text-align: left;">ladies, listen up! if you love shoes and bags and sparkly brooches, but want to read about them in a magazine that encourages environmental-love, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.pepprmintmag.com.au/">Peppermint Magazine</a> </span>is calling your name. This brand spankin' new 'green' mag is jammed full of eco-conscious fashion, from organically farmed cotton tees, recycled jewelry and bespoke canvas bags. With it's refreshingly clean layout, spunky prose and a deep passion for fashion, this is one new mag you'll want to get your little mitts on. Issue 1 out now, head to www.peppermintmag.com for more details.<br /></div><div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259210352174712898" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrsPC3nLuQvTJk7E8adtbmRCxErjGCTIsTaLe2vjlTIN48n3VKPqfsjEjauXbfmCx6nvijrT10mXKMe8TqGOhjthUgsZBNCMQp0xQGdQJZj2qXQ_6wMGBhgPo8GdoPeahWQ6cSfsvd6Co/s400/Picture+15.png" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259464054922901650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVu7S_S8uR2DMdTBUNE8_ksdxpcye4uid1gNZUTvT0KZ-ZmRGJ_IOEW4VmobJiZJgbPgx78zb6hzHk5V9ZjYNM731DgxTPR9qr4DaE1aUQAIzrIC8tTfwBCNB71vUCbvwWW6nQHOtQVg0/s400/pmint.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><br /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259463979159062882" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvzFZ6FcxObjzpL_cLMdZ3RAVF7txgb35BQ91BpHzNWNnaPovfokdHDHPhqrj5hoeAG5TjfIK1BOsxGyK-LAARNIK_r_ismiCwTKeSi6unlzktbEXpxCQD_wb0h04tlTFT1e8N_FH9j4/s400/pmint2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div>Has anyone been watching the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.bravotv.com/The_Rachel_Zoe_Project/season/1/about/index.php">Rachel Zoe Project</a></span>? (on Bravo for you Foxtel-ites, on YouTube for us free-to-airers). I know that she resembles more of an over-tanned, buck-toothed ferret than a fashion stylist, but gawd it's entertaining. I want to start a new drinking game (no kids, alcohol is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">not</span> cool) where:</div><div><br /></div><div>:: one has to take a swig every time Rachel calls Taylor/Marisa/Rodger her "rock"<br /></div><div>:: two swigs every time Taylor rolls her eyes</div><div>:: three swigs every time Brad says something adorably random </div><div>:: just drown the whole bottle every time Rachel gasps and slurs "Oh my god, I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">die</span>".</div></div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GJhIGOCx-pI&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GJhIGOCx-pI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The new Frankie (Nov/Dec) comes out on Wednesday. Major kudos to those hard-working gals in the subscription department; i received my subscriber copy this morning. I am practicing an unusually large amount of self-restraint -- as i type i can see a corner of the plastic-wrapped mag peeking out of my bag. Normally i rip it open the minute i lay my grubby little paws on it, but alas i am babysitting again tomorrow night, and feel the need to have something wonderful to curl up with once the kidlets are in bed. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>An issue for the rock chicks, it not only boasts interview with Kings of Leon, Emiliana Torrini and Ladyhawke but a special on how to make your own Christmas Pudding. funky tunes+pudding = love. </div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259221088641783394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8VcXRf5mcTPZnjYAtVbwHoTn3aZrArBkQWnidxynZ37uLr6sFm7gPkCQfNzwv8PxbEv9-GpFsK60rcZKhPvs2rMhgDZA3rfVaen6a0h1tz7Fyr3pzO3QACe6ulC8vj3UKaqTWHWrjMU/s400/frankienovcover,jpg.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">oh, i have to post <a href="http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/go_fug_yourself/2008/10/fugment_of_zen_days.html">this</a>, the newest rant by the girls at <a href="http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/">Go Fug Yourself</a>. The cereal-out-the-nose-thing happened <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/09/fug-class.html#links">AGAIN</a>. i really have to work on that...<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">ETA: you would not believe the number of people who found their way to my blog last night by googling "gabriella cilmi drunk". I'm glad I'm not </span></span><a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/10/drunk-or-just-really-really-happy.html#links"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">the only one</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> who thought she was oddly slurry and inarticulate...</span></span></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div></div>

hello monday

ladies, listen up! if you love shoes and bags and sparkly brooches, but want to read about them in a magazine that encourages environmental-love, Peppermint Magazine is calling your name. This brand spankin' new 'green' mag is jammed full of eco-conscious fashion, from organically farmed cotton tees…

Read more »

is that music i hear?

i'm sprawled on my couch watching the Aria's (for the sole reason of catching a glimpse of the divine Josh Pyke) and for perhaps the hundredth time this year, I'm scratching my head and trying to work out the appeal of Gabriella Cilmi. I'm sure she's a fabulous girl (and i hope to god that she has a good head on her shoulders) but come on ... surely SOMEONE has to have noticed that her music is... well, pretty freakin' boring. bland. monotonous. unoriginal. <div><br /></div><div>It just makes me feel sad when a 17-year-old pop artist whose main claim to fame is a song with only about 12 words in the lyrics beats out truly magnificent artists like Angus and Julia Stone, Clare Bowditch, Holly Throsby etc. Quirky lyrics, haunting melodies and unique instrumental arrangements... isn't that what a winner makes? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">ps. i hate to be a bitch (okay, i love it) but judging from her four acceptance speeches tonight i think Gabriella might be a bit drunk. otherwise she certainly has a... um, unique way of speaking... oops. </span></div><div><br /></div><div>ness x</div>

is that music i hear?

i'm sprawled on my couch watching the Aria's (for the sole reason of catching a glimpse of the divine Josh Pyke) and for perhaps the hundredth time this year, I'm scratching my head and trying to work out the appeal of Gabriella Cilmi. I'm sure she's a fabulous girl (and i hope to god that she has a…

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birds on strings

<div><div>one of my best friends and I have a secret talent; we are both amazingly brilliant at discovering new and unknown music acts (oh and we're terribly modest too. right <a href="http://sheetsandstitches.blogspot.com/">prue</a>?). When we were working together at the adelaide fringe festival, we'd spend a good deal of the day chit-chatting on MSN (i should probably mention we sat about 5 metres apart) about absolute nonsense, and sending back and forth little clips of our favourite tunes. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>we both have a deep love for quiet music; beautifully orchestrated little humming-birds of songs that don't yell or scream or patronise you. it's the soothing factor i think that does it for me; the sense of utter giddiness of listening to something honest and quietly important. Quirky lyrics most often make an appearance, together with a good deal of foot-tapping goodness.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>we both lay claim to having 'discovered' the musical genius of the extraordinary <a href="http://www.myspace.com/cathypetocz">Cathy Petozc</a> (even the experts agreed; a month or two after we had waxed lyrical about her sweet voice, she won a triple j unearthed/fuse festival competition). Cathy's songs employ few lyrics; but the words that she does use are hauntingly candid, and portray a songwriter with a refreshing take on the world. Her songs are like moving poems, sweet and youthfully sensual. They remind me of liquid gold, so smooth is her voice. she is Australia's very own Regina Spektor.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>If you find yourself a lady of leisure (or a gentleman, for that matter) this weekend, make yourself a steamy mug of spicy chai, buy a custard danish and curl up in front of your laptop. Open up your browser and head to triplejunearthed.com.au - i now give you permission to crank that volume waaay up, throw open the shutters and let down your hair. Losing yourself in the magic of a veritable wonderland of completely untouched, brand-spankin' new music acts is the most... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">satisfying</span> feeling. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>When i feel restless in the world, and i'm feeling a little disjointed and out-of-step, this always helps. I have a feeling it might be just the thing for you too. My picks this week are:</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=1554"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah Humphreys</span></a> (download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">ghost on the roof + waiting to burn</span>) </div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=1239">Margaret Helen King</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">move faster, it makes you more alive</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=617"></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/View.aspx?artistid=20857">Little Scout</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">dead loss + the festival</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/view.aspx?artistid=617">Laura K</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">dead flat</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=21001">Hannah&Sam</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">who's bitten me?</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/view.aspx?artistid=9936"></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/artists/view.aspx?artistid=9936">The John Steel Singers</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">strawberry wine</span>)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=13355">Helen Shanahan</a> </span>(download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">little boy</span>)</div><div><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=1817"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Sam Buckingham</span></a> (download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">sweetest sound</span>) <br /></div><div><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=10139"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Rachel Gorman</span></a> (download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">traveling light</span>)</div><div><a href="http://www.triplejunearthed.com/Artists/View.aspx?artistid=1945"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Emily Smart</span></a> (download: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">italy, easily broken</span>)</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257735759803556290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCqfDzA2bhVoMKjbnhNQXHwO2UzlufGjaViONSuwGM09dlJHj4FyBU52vRx_JiYpOzyT8mVwcwdBsad7bDaGJDj8mboOZ_Vc6wLTMy1HaR4PlcELpy8jaNJSIwYgUlOmFTvl-lEdNTicE/s400/+USETHIS.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><div style="text-align: left;">let it all go...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">ness x</div></div>

birds on strings

one of my best friends and I have a secret talent; we are both amazingly brilliant at discovering new and unknown music acts (oh and we're terribly modest too. right prue?). When we were working together at the adelaide fringe festival, we'd spend a good deal of the day chit-chatting on MSN (i shoul…

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summer in the city

When daylight savings kicks in -- <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">finally</span> -- it always seems to me that the whole city just lets out this huge breath. The tight winter air exhales from our lungs; the dusty particles float weightlessly into the warm air and we feel lighter, and just that little bit more giddy. Stockings are pulled gingerly from legs, heavy coats move to the back of the wardrobe and painted toenails peek gamely from sandals.   I love the subtle shift in energy; we feel freer, braver and the world seems a little easier to exist in.<div><br /></div><div>As i type, windows are being flung open around me. Snatches of conversation reverberate in the stifling air, and the subtle smells of roasting chicken and simmering spag bol drift from kitchens. Wet towels are flung over railings, white sheets float gaily on the adjacent rooftop, and the British backpackers have set up their own little rooftop campsite; with their cups of hot tea and buttered Vegemite squares they could be taken for true-blue Aussies. </div><div><br /></div><div>Strains of overlapping music drifts from the different apartments -- my next door neighbour favours the vocal stylings of Britney, Christina and Whitney, while the couple across the alleyway watch Will & Grace reruns on repeat, laughing at the same jokes over and over. The Irish musician upstairs who inhales a never-ending joint taps his feet in tune to Belle+Sebastian and the Japanese family down the hall have their tiny TV on a neverending cycle of cheesy cartoons. It all forms a beautiful sort of cacophony and I suddenly have the fiercest desire to run and get the largest glass jar i can get my hands on and bottle it all up; all the sounds and songs and smells, all the talking and fighting and laughing and that incomparable feeling of weightlessness; of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">summer in the city</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bgZgYjK76aQ&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bgZgYjK76aQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>

summer in the city

When daylight savings kicks in -- finally -- it always seems to me that the whole city just lets out this huge breath. The tight winter air exhales from our lungs; the dusty particles float weightlessly into the warm air and we feel lighter, and just that little bit more giddy. Stockings are pulled …

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a healthy dose of lust

<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">confession #7</span> i am obsessed - no, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">addicted</span> - to peeking inside other people's homes. It isn't the architecture that i'm interested in, or the design of the bathroom or the slant of the stairs; no, I'm much more nosey than that. It's the personal aspects that i lust over -- where the quirky artworks originated from, the intriguing mix of different colours, textures and prints, how the kitchen drawers have been organised, where that antique dresser was sourced, who does the flowers, what inspired the paint colours etc etc... <br /></div><div><br /><div> </div><div>One of my drugs of choice (it helps calm the nerves after a stressful day) is the US site <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/">Apartment Therapy</a>. i LOVE the <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/main/home-tours">house tours</a>; how genius that you can peek inside houses all over the world, even in your pj's while drinking tea and nibbling on cashew nuts? While drinking my morning coffee today, i did a bit of house-stalking and came across an absolute gem; artist Madeleine Stamer's cosy abode.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Madeleine is the brainchild behind Australian label <a href="http://www.littlecircusdesign.com/">Little Circus Design</a>. A Melbourne painter+illustrator, i love Madeleine's <a href="http://madeleinestamer.typepad.com/photos/limited_edition_prints/index.html">work</a> for its playfulness, whimsical longing and for the rich and varied depth of colours she employs. Her house is just as beautiful as her work...</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630983610328530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpj61VU_wJGPdC9i7Wkaqek9-Nt0bL7lbyOVn5rvEPhm3i3c1p3CCe-FPfbZ-eAJP_blW4EH89N66ZuRsaJJgLh0GqYX59kForIIhsQsBmSgBTyx53lo7F56xSzLVE_5bVkSAcbbpkCE0/s400/mad1.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630988752336274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjupSlhbwvNcEbfMGM17asA0UEDRkBhCn5KC7kLLTBYR5_gPkXZXNeEmDqCHot1vc4xHDjUjzC4HzwvVPZ-4Vpc3QqK1kO-TaIqKcf3Fr69AUqDIL-ef0XM8ryLpFCeBzuRt1ZhyphenhyphenLUFU/s400/mad2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630988365327154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFIqR0Qz4ixdVUR_IaAwGP-d5CmNjcGxYVJ_lO-id3Ev0deNrCSB3vH2-UqvvlAQMoDYVr_xMOre-so6XwmAVFZ2agL-sF-bvuRfezRQAS1yduAGgnFxms0tk3wemUnIlQ7Rsgorl0CR0/s400/mad3.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630994502343106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG10Msxc5vaAr-9gl1INv90QnVaZ7AwWhL5h50erjVeOLXGFj-C-9HHx-XRzRQ-0bhv3SXjiRQzJIVdR_SpWddo7GEsBTeK-4jfTRDHwjj16iEOjClzJmzZC9QhbNg0g3t_GM5bbRNcSQ/s400/mad4.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633113226225058" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8W3mDuPfa2_94Khs37XMuTKAXG97unn7dSFxkpcRYO7pnSoVz42txVKcfudZ49zc49AbezVxLXpwTA7LbEgSbPJ7aPe_C3KK-sGNbCFgqt0jD-mP7GWjiJWi9KSloWxLdtGJ2r43c0As/s400/mad8.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633107755946818" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlp2-GCJin8EDu1vsW9_t1BZDr9Ta-jz4Zdk_qrcc6N8Tt5-Tn-pcbkcN_qQ2CDpm4ghkF6HZzCPwcR-3qf6J61Vufs6yyQe0yGWXSVK1m7wg2tpAQMas_DnjAxTBG10UVSEK0TjZQUK8/s400/mad6.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633109272001138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAO_o3ldEatmAeaUpfvDTWgc39OjFyiLfyciv7dwHf_ZV61pGW9i6FmScTAhkLVXaWv7GNhc3sMqQ0cfBcMLODYobzeu3lxsxD5kDbpGf1fVo4YN4b8LvusLIAbPJ_qzSibeBmN8lVm4w/s400/mad7.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256630997622406930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjashZTmOrf-uyMcM7DPa9poVnNkgdPSHB4HDA9AxKEowCH9PomCxctXsQ6lifdn2ZswqTMHnU6ozRd0PaAv06ryiOS1CUYaKAqi1kKNdmTOZBbG6hIhRYw6vGKUnYBApy2XYdGyizxX_0/s400/mad5.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633115813933346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ZIpowwmU_YLK-a8bXyU0T9_sJ9aXx0Ga6efKcDfAeMuE0WZkiymilMT0ZFc_Bsjor335_lvAgidKgx0j_aOXckBmhkpJbQ5peq5BCk6lOayN72Q4WiorzTHYKezpvySDSZOLXdiSXwI/s400/mad9.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256633115859824658" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL6MtNirNuVCnX482PzgjUtvKVKuA5DILFNRzVMMQA-Tc8-9nlF4FBa4WnNWmKQ7BhvBY2SyboQQ3mq5F9h4Bw3mxTcJF4e6WRw32ATL7Ev1Jm-T93XTqwHYh9r35I7mkPjpF1bNO0S7c/s400/mad10.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div>I love that her house isn't stylised; it isn't cold or unattainable or stark. A family lives here without the fear of spills or wear and tear. The colours aren't perfectly matched; in fact there's a sweet vulnerability about the decor, while at the same time being gloriously simple and clean. Strong lines dominate the space, while all of Madeleine's artwork and travel mementos add a sense of familiarity and belonging. Plus, i am seriously lemming that kitchen table. Clean, cool wood, perfectly sized, simply cut... ahhhh. I'm happy, I've had my hit. Your turn!</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>happy house-stalking...</div><div>ness x</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div></div>

a healthy dose of lust

confession #7 i am obsessed - no, addicted - to peeking inside other people's homes. It isn't the architecture that i'm interested in, or the design of the bathroom or the slant of the stairs; no, I'm much more nosey than that. It's the personal aspects that i lust over -- where the quirky artworks …

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"i would, like, totally give my left arm for this job"

oh NO. no, no, no. <div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9g767oOfpSk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9g767oOfpSk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /><div>come on people, do we really need ANOTHER show/movie depicting how dumb and shallow the magazine industry is? </div><div><br /></div><div>apparently, yes -- going by the newly released trailer for <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.cwtv.com/shows/stylista">Stylista</a>, </span>a TopModel-esque reality show depicting the trials and tribulations of 12 fashion wanabees as they each vie for an editor role at Elle magazine. During the three minute preview, we encounter bitching to the nth degree, backstabbing, body image pressure and tearful apologies when the Fashion Director's iced latte is served with a LONG STRAW rather than a short straw (i know. fire her ass!)</div><div><br /></div><div>It does little to quell the public perception that we who work at mags are a bunch of bitchy, backstabbing, iced-latte-drinking cows. One girl claims that "she'd like, seriously, like, give her left arm for the job, like". After getting yelled at for not throwing the Fashion Director's niece a proper birthday party (wha---?), i wanted to hug the poor darling and bring her back to my mag world, where the women are empowered, supportive and give better advice then "Oh honey, i'd lose the red top... thing. You look kinda like a waitress".</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">but will i be watching? you betcha ;) </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ness x</span></div></div></div>

"i would, like, totally give my left arm for this job"

oh NO. no, no, no. come on people, do we really need ANOTHER show/movie depicting how dumb and shallow the magazine industry is? apparently, yes -- going by the newly released trailer for Stylista, a TopModel-esque reality show depicting the trials and tribulations of 12 fashion wanabees as they eac…

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they like me! they really like me!

the fabulously stylish Amanda over at <a href="http://swishandswanky.blogspot.com/">swish and swanky</a> has tagged me to do a little meme. the rules? i must share six random facts about myself, then tag six fellow bloggers to do the same. <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/09/secret-life-of-ness_07.html#links">again</a>, apologies for the self-indulgence -- but rules are rules!<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">one</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">i love watching documentaries and reading books about WWII. not sure why, just that i find the subject matter intricately fascinating. in particular i love books that deal with Hitler's life history and family tree.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">two</span></span> </span>i have an obsessive personality. i eat the same salad for lunch every day, don't tire of watching the same TV episodes repeatedly and can quite happily listen to a particular album or song over and over and over again. in fact, i think my record for playing a song continuously on repeat is 3 days. (which song, you ask? guess)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">three</span> </span>my favourite part of baking is eating the batter.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">four</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">when i was a wee ness, i used to convince my little sister that $5 notes were of lesser value than 50c coins, so that she'd give me all her notes and I'd swap her for coins. (sorry zed)</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">five</span></span> </span>i already have my children's names picked out (clucky? me?)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">six</span></span> </span>more than often, life reminds me of something i have read in a book. I always wonder, shouldn't it be the other way round?</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>that was so much harder than i thought it would be...</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div>In return, I'm tagging two of my best friends: Lucy (<a href="http://aboxofthree.blogspot.com/">a box of three) </a>& Prue (<a href="http://sheetsandstitches.blogspot.com/">sheets&stitches).</a></div><div>Two new friends that i've met recently in blogosphere are also getting tagged: Christine (<a href="http://christine-louise.blogspot.com/">christine-louise</a>) & Clare (<a href="http://murkymakeup.blogspot.com/">murky makeu</a>p) as well as two bloggers whose style, words and general fabulousness inspires me every time they post: Pia (<a href="http://blog.piajanebijkerk.com/WordPress/">pia jane bijkerk</a>) and Joslyn (<a href="http://simplelovely.blogspot.com/">simple lovely</a>).<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm off to bed with a cup of milky earl grey and one of my <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/10/hills-are-alive-with-sound-of-sirens.html">new books</a> but before i do; i have to share that i got the new Josh Pyke album, Chimney's Afire, today. I've had it on repeat since i got home from yoga, and it's hard to describe how i feel when i listen to it. On one hand, light and carefree and giddy -- on the other hand, my heart is heavy because his music contains so much natural beauty and honesty that i feel overwhelmed. conundrum!</div><div><br /></div><div>I've <a href="http://agirlcalledness.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-all-about-love.html">already posted</a> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Lighthouse Song, </span>his first single from the album, but <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Parking Lots, Don't Wanna Let You Down </span>and<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Candle in the Window </span>are just as good, if not better. Get it; i promise it will not disappoint...</div><div><br /></div><div>ness x </div>

they like me! they really like me!

the fabulously stylish Amanda over at swish and swanky has tagged me to do a little meme. the rules? i must share six random facts about myself, then tag six fellow bloggers to do the same. again, apologies for the self-indulgence -- but rules are rules!one i love watching documentaries and reading …

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the hills are alive with the sound of sirens

outside, the wind is on a rampage. Tree branches fall clumsily from trunks, the water from the Kings Cross fountain sprays magnificently over passing pedestrians and filthy plastic bags swirl spectacularly out-of-tune. It's like there is something ominous in the air; people furiously scurry by, blotting their watery eyes with old tissues, and the near sound of overlapping sirens bleats loud and furious. I walked home from the movies tonight; i now sport tangly hair and dust has settled on my eyelashes and in the crooks of my ears. I also fear that i may have inhaled a tree-worth of pollen in the process -- but i don't mind; somehow the wind makes things more exciting, more alive. the world <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">does</span> have a pulse!<div><br /></div><div>With the weather wild, i thought i'd go and see <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Duchess, </span>do some book shopping and lose myself in the day's papers over a long black. The movie was really lovely; nothing world-altering but certainly entertaining and definitely an eye-opener to how women (and the less-fortunate) were treated back in the 18th century. I also agree with all of the recent reviews that this is probably Keira Knightley's best performance to date. For the first time -- since <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Bend it like Beckham </span>anyway -- i forgot that it was Keira i was seeing on screen, and really got involved with her character. She still had a lot of her throaty mannerisms but on the whole, she was very good. Definitely improving.</div><div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4p2UtgtJuDk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4p2UtgtJuDk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>There are so many good films out at the moment; I'm also dying to see <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0Xql3fDM44">Brideshead Revisited</a>, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTjbBP9YjgM">Towelhead</a> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">and</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmVNHnGh4bE">Bitter & Twisted</a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">. </span>Just not enough free time (or money!) Yes, i think I would like a public holiday once a month, please. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>My book shopping was successful too, there's just so many that i want to read right now. I bought <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">America America </span>by Ethan Canin, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Zookeeper's War </span>by Steven Conte (partly cos i'm reading it for a book club, and partly cos i was intrigued after it picked up the 2008 Prime Minister's Literary Award) and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Krueger's Men: The Secret Nazi Counterfeit Plot </span>(the recent movie <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Counterfeiters </span>was based on this; i missed out on seeing it at the movies, but the book looks just as good). </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>It's funny that i qualm at spending $60+ on a shirt or a pair of shoes but have no hesitation at spending that kind of money on books. Maybe because books don't remind you that you hate your thighs, or that your feet are ugly and oddly shaped. Instead, they talk to you and educate you, make you laugh and cry and think and dream. They take you to worlds you can only dream of going to, or places in time that are now obsolete. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Before i head off to indulge in some new words, nibble on some pita bread+humous and watch Denton; i want to share with you a website that i came across a couple of days ago: <a href="http://www.beforeidieiwantto.org/">www.beforeidieiwantto.org</a>. It's a polaroid project started in 2008 by two girls from the US. They ask strangers what their goal before they die is, take their photo and get their contact details. The site is updated weekly with new polaroids. Then, as the years pass, the girls will contact their subjects to see how their goal is progressing. It's completely fascinating, and not as morbid as i thought it would be -- i really urge you to check it out.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Before i die i want to</span> write a novel. How about everyone else?</div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253967538250721490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwe8II2LhePJoeFUH_VpN5mG27cuUnnq-UaJoaRjAHMNqACRb0vlLnC9srpcF8iONE5-VZsPDUvCfHdUCY4644DmMhc2LDuNXlAWuYRfnlpaCoPJ6M07DDwyJbW5T5c_ZSkMrrdcvKK_Y/s400/die2.png" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253967538699955954" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrwbl2s0ID0Nn5T8Tk4p-o9fks7r53y_eavZq1MMYGgvpAJ6jbVehpjgyn4PZRgCUZS3zojcgDXWs2I9pWagoSFqJeJ-ZJFayFjJdymZle1NgdN04Zpd8P6c5XCOB1H50dD4WgkLasG4/s400/die1.png" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>ness x</div>

the hills are alive with the sound of sirens

outside, the wind is on a rampage. Tree branches fall clumsily from trunks, the water from the Kings Cross fountain sprays magnificently over passing pedestrians and filthy plastic bags swirl spectacularly out-of-tune. It's like there is something ominous in the air; people furiously scurry by, blot…

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if i hear britney one more time...

my next door neighbour, my <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">very</span></span> </span>super-muscly tank-top-wearing neighbour, is playing Britney Spears and Aretha Franklin on repeat. i figure i have two options: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">a)</span> be amused. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">b)</span> be frightened. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">c)</span> raise the stakes in this music-war and crank up the volume on my own stereo. really, just ANYTHING to drown out the whine of britney --  so i chose option C.<div><br /><div>my tunes of choice is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1HDZNR9cY4">Ladyhawke</a>, excellent at blocking out the high-pitched wailing of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">hit me baby one more time. </span>i mean, seriously. SERIOUSLY? what can he be doing in there that needs the vocal styling of Aretha and Britney to guide him? what, lifting weights? making beans on toast? crying or laughing or wallowing or having sex? whatever it is, surely he can find someone more interesting, less women-hear-me-roar kind of music to listen to.</div><div><br /></div><div>personally, i find <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYKY2e4GE9Q">Josh Pyke</a> to be kind to my ears when i feel like crap, i love <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKPXPJryp3g">Charlotte Gainsbourg</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fwh-9T8oD0&feature=related">Nouvelle Vague</a> when i feel the need to dance around my apartment in my underwear, the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecc9pcjJTpk">Kooks</a> when i need someone to just shout at me and Sarah Blasko when... well, always...</div></div><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ADm41Aw3LXo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ADm41Aw3LXo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />this has got to be my most favourite video clip ever. no matter how shitty i am, this always makes me laugh. <div><br /></div><div>oh gawd, now i think he's playing the soundtrack from that god-awful movie Britney did a thousand years ago, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Crossfire </span>something-or-other. this must stop. NOW. does anyone have any ideas as to how i can alleviate my poor, crying ears? anyone?</div>

if i hear britney one more time...

my next door neighbour, my very super-muscly tank-top-wearing neighbour, is playing Britney Spears and Aretha Franklin on repeat. i figure i have two options: a) be amused. b) be frightened. c) raise the stakes in this music-war and crank up the volume on my own stereo. really, just ANYTHING to drow…

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herbs and alcohol don't mix

<div style="text-align: left;">oh i am a lazy lazy girl. one o'clock on a saturday afternoon and just now am i getting up, woken only by the perpetually drunk british backpackers at the hostel next door. Thank god they did though, or else i'd probably still be laying here like a lump under my nice warm covers. 'Tis raining outside though, which always makes the nicest sleeping-in weather. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div> </div><div>The fat droplets lazily fall past my open window, gathering in murky puddles in the alleyway outside. The brits next door don't seem to care though; they have set up a tarp over their bbq up on their rooftop balcony and are cooking up giant greasy hunks of steak, which they will most probably devour in large sticky white bread rolls with lashings of tomato sauce. Their choice of music this afternoon? Green Day, interspersed with snippets of blink 182. Yes, my dear readers, it seems that they have taken a trip back in time to 1999. I'm feeling tres` emo right now, perhaps i will drag out my punk attire from my early years of high school and get into the spirit. (afterthought: nah, too lazy, plus -- unless it's a LBD, i don't really rock the black clothing look anymore).</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>After a v.late night last night (had dinner+dessert with the lovely vogue girls at darling harbour, followed by drinking and salsa dancing at a random kings cross spanish tapas bar with my friend CM), i do feel like i deserve a bit of lay-in, especially after a long/hellish week at work. (people? i hate them). </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The bright spot amongst all of the utter-stupidly i had to deal with the past week? discovering these <a href="http://www.top3.com.au/detail.php?item_name=self+watering+planters">self-watering planters</a> from the very talented people at <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.evasolo.com/">Eva Solo.</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "> I am currently obsessed with starting my own little herb garden, which ultimately proves very difficult when you live in a studio with no balcony (i do have a rooftop balcony that i share with the rest of my building, but i fear that my plants would most likely get spiked. Believe me, i've tried. Cheap vino and parsley just don't mix). </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; ">Designed by Claus Jensen and Henrick Holbuk, the planter very cleverly waters itself for up to a week, eliminating all the mess and dirt associated with watering normal pots. All you have to do is add water to the bottom vase, where a little wick will bring moisture up to the soil as the plant requires it. Not only is the design self-sufficient, but the aesthetic of the planters is just genius, resulting in what i think is the perfect blend of form+function. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253172498702960530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHNz_NrYlPE5cvGcqpFTkvctZPa5WBkLZtXyyWusqtyXE5H0uTo7r-IJEgy1CoNJfloirE5vVD6Q2AMB_ti6PahVbvXt4rnMnF9Omr5hHsdb3Arx3yVFw5NqKkpWXCYezkx8xFGc4Iimc/s400/herb1.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253172504514341522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijJ2syKZIiVZXdXWNRLhO2DBMwnZebnUSA7YJFtI3zgr6UJRPU6kKFt1wNwhru642O8tqqaQ5YjBgauKIcAiMUlv0-ZQSZkFCqIxsM8Sgx_vbPBxRbaMSfFUqoGrGbvTT2NQTgHZLig2M/s400/herb2.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253172506108338578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYabKfevM08LDSBumWnh-tZm587_FJs5r_Hr9yUMDPfr_E2r0eCJ6e6jhBwbKGSO-zwJ74VjtQ3L7V1baBhGtJO-YSluRL7q5v_AT1tJLZvxUb6CW4A1nlqa3N39Ig0E-eBdyRIFv4Z8/s400/herb3.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div>they are quite well priced too -- $60 for the small (11cm) and $70 for the larger (13cm) <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">*someone has  a birthday coming up too, hint hint :)</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If that's a little out of your price range, and you're still desperate for a stylish way to present your herbs (or any plants, for that matter), i also love the </span><a href="http://www.top3.com.au/detail.php?item_name=chalk+panel+planter+%D813x14cm"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">chalk panel planters</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> from ASA Selection. At only $15 per pot, they are a bargain. Even though they're not self-watering, the cute ceramic pots with handy chalk labels all but makes up for that. i want!</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253175956082386386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCglVnWH-f1VaIp7gTugNKNdw9sT_ORECKtFN9LVsIQ_7aBqOUb6DgO2hfJPDJ-8SYxK1oN3ahcyGw4voCGV1-J6zizKUwyGyI-YhHiKWL0Y1Lpque2-qczP9sTGL3I0EQyJ23U-8IQAY/s400/herb4.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><div> </div><div> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So my lovelies, what are you waiting for? Get out the gardening gloves, head down to your local nursery and get a-plantin'! Think about how much better that spag bol will taste with fresh basil cut straight from your own little garden...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">ness x</div>

herbs and alcohol don't mix

oh i am a lazy lazy girl. one o'clock on a saturday afternoon and just now am i getting up, woken only by the perpetually drunk british backpackers at the hostel next door. Thank god they did though, or else i'd probably still be laying here like a lump under my nice warm covers. 'Tis raining outsid…

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apple of my eye

<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">mid-week musings...</span><br /></div><div><div>monday + public holiday = <a href="http://happylovestrawberry.blogspot.com/2008/06/pudding-in-your-pocket.html">apple crumble bake-off</a>. doesn't this look amazingly mouth-wateringly delish? there's nothing i love more than apple crumble but in a slice that you can carry around with you? genius! </div><div> </div><div> <div> </div><div> </div></div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252160134658061762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrc0qXapj4klbD0RiXXaRlcZ9eZ7SPXMKtV78nJ0OK3QVaE2MJ434WWETGmUsztEUak1-jlN3iuRdYYfEaWpvZt7HeuXdRJLCxExouY2cC2ZYJuf80wIFvWw5LDeIQ1EiLmk5uQSuEMy4/s400/musing2.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">every Sunday <a href="http://www.postsecret.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">PostSecret</span></a> is updated with hauntingly sad, frightfully honest secrets, sent in to its creator Frank Warren from all over the globe. On Monday mornings, i take pleasure in arriving at work just that little bit early, settling down at my Mac with a long black and slowly reading all of the newly-released confessions. (if you're not sure what i'm talking about, read <a href="http://www.postsecretcommunity.com/news-faq/postsecret-story">this</a>.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">although not as shocking or mysterious as others posted last Sunday, this particular admission was my hands-down fave. it tickled the corners of my coffee-stained lips...</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252162975011586018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibx2l9ChZwsuYFGvhuPuFbL7w_iqMjXAjY-n95QKE87NePvk94DPNY34NOoymgt7r52H2SGFq4eqtpOyHHY7RrSSEa_iNErySAAmzhc_RV1c8_pVAExHOfnXZYRUadxSAwxjEB76Sfewo/s400/musing1.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">my current design crush and weekly <a href="http://www.etsy.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">etsy</span></a> pick is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5676487">things by bubbo-tubbo</a>. </span>a modern-day Alice In Wonderland, this Russian designer is quirky, eccentric and comes completely out of left-field, resulting in the most endearing illustrations and artwork. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252166764079011794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXvfM3OIDA9Z5EchyhlegY0Xzq5m8AMpF5B5E0vORMeqHKenf044UJjzRIUBDSmw2ZapnctztHnJLS2rJkXXSm98ZeH44JY58ioBPljM3LoqzW9YZPy-2-9DEFZj9ST74M29AovpSJvY/s400/musing3.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252167100639774850" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-CoxGVyL-l8k3XAEmFqX_Nfsv16A5y8GWVjxSJTFo33X6-ak6xkA3em-tCKeDrVol5drJGuf4bKfTaBa_l2CJKqCwl4EXwzcaZq0SOptZbNudvMyV-DGtz2OLA_cCkhJEOnL-WumXBYk/s400/musing5.jpg" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252166769886397906" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-r4Vw9Jo-RzmpI48W0qS1am2_XfI_WiAiAYVeCrbilWIg7KNRNEZ0Ih8NoiEp1sKD-RMo23li35lxB1CaHRtCF1o93QzbjExd1P5oPkITT5iz-tpmGU_lrT88BU4PEZkFbzGkikfXEik/s400/musing4.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">and lastly (cos i did two gym classes tonight and i'm a tired-ness), today is the first day of Good Food Month in sydney-town, which means... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Night Noodle Markets</span> in Hyde Park! I for one am looking forward to sampling delicious dumplings + slippery noodles with friends as i lay in the scratchy grass of the park in blistering heat. If you feel like joining me, please do! I'm planning to go along the first monday+tuesday night it starts (dates and info are <a href="http://gfm.smh.com.au/_product_29872/Night_Noodle_Markets_-_Hyde_Park_North">here</a>.)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">ness x</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>

apple of my eye

mid-week musings...monday + public holiday = apple crumble bake-off. doesn't this look amazingly mouth-wateringly delish? there's nothing i love more than apple crumble but in a slice that you can carry around with you? genius!    every Sunday PostSecret is updated with hauntingly sad, frightfull…

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