Wednesday, March 21, 2012


Hola mi amigos! It's been so long. My week has been full of beer (we're taking a little break from each other now) and 30 Rock and my lovely who was visiting from Malaysia, and lots of other things I want to tell you about before I run out of steam (plus we're going to My Week With Marilyn tonight; Vincent's idea to cheer me up after I complained incessantly last night about everything - complaining works!), so I'd better hop to.

1. As of last week, FHM is no more. My faith in men and magazines is still shaky, but this is Progress. Muffin vewy happy.
2. We already knew Eric Clapton was a moron, but now we know he's a total piece of shit. When reading about The Specials (three weeks!) and Rock Against Racism, I discovered this despicable rant demonstrating Clapton's racism, xenophobia, and general stupidity. I hate him. We swiftly deleted him from our iPod, but before you start to think we're such principled people, I also read about some awful things Bowie said about the extreme right "cleaning things out". It hurt so much I can't even think about it, but I'm going to have to change my ringtone. And he blamed Nietzche. Nietzsche. I'm about ready to smack the lightning bolt off his face.
Meet my new shoes. We just calculated that the heel on these is 5 inches, which makes us both a bit nervous; me, because when I tried to wear 4.5 inch wedges to work last week I lasted four hours (most of which was spent doing made-up jobs that allowed me to sit down), and Vincent, because the last two times we were out and I wore heels I either cried or had to be carried (up Queen Street, sideways to spare everyone the sight of my arse). Anyway, what I wanted to say about the shoes was not aren't they pretty and grown-up and ideal for funerals (particularly Catholic ones where there is more kneeling than standing), but that I delayed gratification and brought back the layby. When I was growing up, my Mum laybyed things all the time; we very rarely had enough money to buy things straight out, and going across KMart to the layby counter was just as good as going to the check-outs (I didn't know that everyone didn't do this; same as singing Oliver songs for kicks, and eating mangoes). It should have taught me good saving/budgeting habits, but it didn't; as soon as I could get a credit card, I did, and taught myself to do everything backwards, buying things and paying for them later. It was never very satisfying, but it was my late teens and early twenties, when all I did was want things, and owe money, and generally act like a capitalist idiot. Now that my priorities and style have changed and nearly everything I buy is secondhand, most things costing between $4 and $20, the only things I shell out for are shoes, and because my idea of what things should cost is reflective of what my clothes cost, it's a big deal when I get a pair like this, and I like that paying them off over a few weeks and then getting to bring them home is consistent with that. It makes me feel like it's not too late for me to be like my Mum, and look forward to things, and put important things first. I love clothes, but I never, ever want to be one of those people with the great fashion stories about spending two weeks' pay on a dress; it goes against everything I stand for. I'm burbling now, and I would like to say also that I found out this morning that one of my most stylish (and also financially bohemian) friends laybys regularly. (Unless she was just making it up so I wouldn't feel embarrassed, in which case she is still awesome).
4. Shit, now I've run out of time, so here's what was meant to be last: a song Vincent brought home tonight, and is wicked. Shit, eleven past! Hasta manana!

No comments:

Post a Comment