Boulderama

So apparently I have a new nickname: Lord of the Rings.
Which makes me feel either very masculine or elfin or both...

Slight problem with aforementioned nickname - For God's sake, I can't decide on 'one ring to rule them all'
I mean seriously...Frodo clearly was not a knuckleduster addict. Or a believer in 'the more the merrier' or 'you can never have too much hand adornment'...which by the way is very true. It makes you feel very powerful and editrix-like when you type.

Seriously.

My newest baby may not rule them all but it definitely is a candidate for 'one ring which screams - Say hello to my good friend, pain' (okay...bad A-Team reference there...*face palm*) Looking at its seriously hefty boulder-esque goodness (some people can't actually decide what it is...it's a boulder by the way or at least that's what the lookbook told me) - it could pack a serious punch. And it manages to look ever so awesome at the same time.

And you thought you needed to take self-defence classes.

Take a cue from Mr T and bling it up seriously instead.

Word.

Love

xo

Bec

Return To The Classics

There is nothing better than a good, time old classic.
Something that doesn't go out of style.
Something that has been a timeless symbol of feminine elegance for decades.
Something that you can convince your Asian father is an 'investment' (Oh, it's not for me...it's for my future daughter)

Say 'hello' to my baby (i.e. my early 21st birthday present)
It was adopted in Hong Kong. In all its exciting black and white boxed glory.
I was tempted to go the path of the black and gold...but then realized that I have about five bags in that colour (I can't help it if it just looks that damn good...)

But instead went the path of 'ladies who lunch' camel.
I think of it as my first step on a path of pearls, cashmere twinsets, cucumber sandwiches and Hermes scarves.

And perhaps a very rich husband would be very much in order...

Oh the classics, how you threaten to bankrupt me so!

Love & Diamonds

xo

Bec

Brown Backpack & Leather

I've been told several times that I practically live at Seven Seeds. This is probably sadly true. To the point where I have one-sided love affairs with the 'far too well-dressed and beautiful...and good Lord do they know it' staff...I even have nicknames! There's Awesome Tattoo Lady, Cute Gay Guy, Grey Shirt Boy, Retro Lady, Intellectual Llama Boy...the list goes on really. But we don't need to hear about that. I mean...Bec's not a stalker right? Other point to note - Seven Seeds also has a whole host of ridiculously stylish patrons.

This gentleman was certainly no exception to the rule.

I would steal this ensemble if I could really. It's so simple and appropriate for the trans-seasonal madness that is Melbourne (oh hello...it's miserable and rainy...oh no wait...the sun is out and I am currently burning up in my 50 bazillion layers of wool...okay stop bitching) I'm just loving all the colours and the not-too-busy layering. The buttery soft leather jacket in the perfect worn shade of brown is just absolutely lustworthy.

And the backpack!

Oh-my-Lord...did I have quite the *swoon* moment when I set eyes on it! In fact - truth be told, it was the first thing I saw. My mother keeps telling me I should buy a backpack as apart to my usual 'chuck everything into it' tote and I've always ignored that advice. Mostly because backpacks remind me of evil days in school with hideously coloured nylon bags. Either that or my failed hiking days. Both memories - Bad. Bad. Bad.

Having said that - I sadly note that the tote and duffel are becoming just a little bit ubiquitous these days (yes curse you Country Road duffels and your teeny bopper, side ponytailed following) and have had my heart set on a chic knapsack with two straps that I can effortlessly swing across my back as I hike through the urban jungle a la Alexander Wang muses.

This one should totally rid your mind of any bad backpack nightmares with its gorgeous (and utilitarian might I add) deep brown colour and nondescript (but existent) hardware.

Might I add - he was absolutely adorable (and far far far too sweet) and told me where I could buy it (and it was affordable to boot) but I've completely forgotten the name of the shop (so PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU SEE THIS! Okay too bold...bah...whatever I'm desperate) plus we totally bonded over hailing from the same capital city (Kuala Lumpur if you were ever wondering)

Apparently he hangs out at Seven Seeds all the time...new stalking friend much?

Love

xo

Bec

An Adorable Man-Eater

The thrill of the chase.
The hunt is on.
She's on the prowl.
Then she gets eaten.

Okay that's the slightly noir humour of the video...which maybe only I found hilarious.

Back in the day, yours truly was known as a bit of a man-eater (and no...not of the scantily clad Nelly Furtado video type...damn that was an annoying and yet surprisingly catchy tune)

Note - The present day situation is less man-eater and more...let's not go there (I have already been told several times that I wallow in 'dateless and bitter' territory far too often...it makes for a good laugh after experimental cocktails though)

I'm a bit in love with this Neko Case video. If only because it really takes the mickey out of man-eating and adorable little she-predators. Plus it's just a really cute video with girls with really big heads and pleated skirts. Don't you just want to frame it?

Or um...eat it?

Love

xx

Bec

Fruit Loops

The kids at Lenko are so beautiful and stalkable (not that I go there repeatedly to acquire more somewhat left-of-centre adornment for my fingers) and Sam was certainly no exception to the rule.

Aside from being preternaturally pretty (all tousled black hair and doe eyes) - her outfit is literally TOO adorable!
There is of course your beautifully executed Melbourne black (cute tiered dress and to-die-for booties...dear Lord I do love a good pair of booties...but I doubt anyone needs to hear me wax rhapsodic about that)

But my absolute favourite thing here is (go figure) - THE BLING
Qualifying note: Can one really use the term bling when...it really isn't all that shiny at all?

Her giant rainbow fruit bowl necklace reminds me of happy mornings with Fruit Loops (which deluded me into thinking all fruit was rainbow coloured and tasted pretty much like 100% artificial food colourings with scary chemical names and sugar) It may literally be the happiest piece of neck adornment I have ever seen.

Be happy & healthy!

But possibly not with Fruit Loops (although I must confess to being more of a Coco Pops fan myself...)

Love

xo

Bec

A Bit of Press Love

So there is a quote from me.
In enlarged, black, bold font.
In actual (it will paper cut you) paper.

Which really makes me look more important and intelligent than I really am. Seriously.
It happens to be included in the really lovely, insightful and humorous article about the wonderful world of blogging and style stalking (although it is far more eloquently put than that) by my favourite dapper editor of style Tarang.

Apart from the fact that I am slightly excited about the press love.
It really just is a beautiful magazine (I give it a major A+ for aesthetics...I mean that's half the battle isn't it?)
And I guess more importantly...it's a really good read. Whether you like politically flavoured ice-creams, poems about Macbooks, a bit of a short story or just learning how to behave like a proper law student (or fake it...)

What are you waiting for? Indulge your inner legal eagle...

http://www.mulss.com/sites/default/files/users/20/PurelyDictaEditionOne2010StandardResolution.pdf

Love

xo

Bec

PS. If you're morbidly curious about my press rep - I am on page 24...or maybe slightly after that. But read the whole damn thing anyway because it's pretty brilliant.

An Old Watch & A Pair of Wings

After a couple of sleepless nights and (bad, bad, BAD) indulging in chocolate cake and 60s inspired motown pop about heartbreak...it's now official that I will probably spend the rest of my life wallowing in academic failure.

But if all else fails, I will be a beautifully adorned failure in all things meant for the intellectual and bookish (and I don't mean of the picture book) kind. I'm a little in love with this trinket I found in Hunter/Gatherer a couple of weeks ago (oh how I long for the days when it was just a simple case of finding a good style stalk without the 'looming Doomsday' feel of exams totally cramping my mojo)

It's one of those brilliant little pieces where you can say - 'Ah, it's new...but it's old at the same time' (because if you stick an old, broken watch face and a pair of vintage war wings together - it becomes something altogether different no?)

So while I may have no brains or aptitude for anything involving a more complicated word than 'Sale' (although this word I know in multiple languages...Soldes anyone?)...I do have a necklace which makes me feel like a somewhat ingenious kooky turn-of-the-century industrial inventor. Et voila...why try when you can simply look the part of the eccentric genius?

Academia at its best.

Love

xo

Bec

Haskins & Retro Cowboys

Retro photographic (Translation - borderline pornographic) coffee table books make me really happy.
I mean not only do they make you look really classy ('Look at me! I have artistic books on my table') but they really are my favourite type of book to read (maybe because I find words too challenging for my academia-challenged brain)

While I am currently rotting away in the sad pitiful four walls of my house (has anyone ever counted their walls and realized that there are probably more than four?) thanks to the wonderful people of a certain law faculty which shall not be named, an inadvertent stumbling upon the late Sam Haskins' quasi erotic Western fairytale 'Cowboy Kate & Other Stories' really made my day.

It's a book of cheeky paradoxes. Topless women posing with a bust of Voltaire. A classic spaghetti Western storyline written by Haskins' then eight year old son. Muses of the 60s shot in noir by one of my favourite photographers of all time. It makes me wish I was born in a bygone era where nudity and erotica was less about surgical enhancements and more about au naturel beauty and about creating an artform.

So while I should probably be manically typing up some form of legalese at the moment, I am instead taking the time to have a cup of therapeutic tea and procrastinating with pure retro prettiness at its best.

I suggest you do the same.

Love & Kisses

Bec

xo

The Future Mogul

Some people are just so awesome (with a capital A...my friend and I actually have a dorky hand signal for this) that they get their very own teaser posts featuring their very own beyond fabulous boots.

Bectionary definition of Capital A-Awesome people: Persons who are just so cool that you end up staring at them creepily for half an hour before doing the 'walk of shame' to explain that:
(a) You are just a bit obsessed with their footwear
(b) You're a socially awkward style-obsessed dork (but harmless enough to not merit a restraining order or anything involving the police really)
(c) Their coolness vibes are hitting at beyond head-exploding levels

Paul is a Capital A-Awesome person.
And I suppose you and I could emulate aforementioned capital A-awesomeness using the following step-by-step manual:

(1) Be a dandy man about town (thereby making your significantly less cool interviewer feel like she is an absolute loner in comparison)

(2) Have impeccable taste/style philosophy
I think I may have had an 'Oh my Lord, you and I were destined to be insta-friends because your awesome levels have just reached quasi-god like levels' when discussing style in general over coffee. Simplicity - Check. Basics you can't live without - Check. That one signature item (like a killer pair of shoes or some absolutely crushworthy bling) - Check. Perfect tailoring - Check. I rest my case.

(3) Be a swashbuckling pioneer in the name of art and bacchanalia!
Okay I really didn't have to use the word 'swashbuckling' but...it's so much fun...
The best thing about capital A-awesome people is that they're always doing something that they love and bigger and better things related to that. I may or may not secretly lust/party crush over the 'Ooh here is our exciting oh-so-French social life' photos at the back of Jalouse with Theodora Richards rolling around pretty much naked save a fur coat. Now - could something as trashy/cool ever take place in the Antipodes? One wonders.

Well if Paul has anything to do with it - voyeuristic photography sessions, international musical acts and beautiful people rolling around quasi-naked in faux or real fur could very well be happening in our own backyards. Or at least I hope mine.

(4) Attract thy opposite!
If all else fails and you don't have killer shoes or fur coats - do check out Paul's absolutely drop-dead-please-shoot-me amazing blog 'Opposites Attract' to unleash your inner edgy It-Girl/Boy with a vengeance. Not your average drab events blog - it comes with droolworthy photography and pretty sick tunes to tap away your 'I'm an absolute loser and sit inside my house cursing [insert subject here] exam' woes (not that I'm in that situation at the moment...)

It has duly been added to my 'List of All Things Inspirational' so GO GO GO my children and have a good ole perve.

And what can I say after all this?

To the beautiful powers above that be - please put more capital A-awesome stalkworthy people like Paul...preferably in Thousand Pound Bend...pretty please...

Much love kiddos

xx

Bec

Bootleg Teaser

The story begins with a stratospherically cool pair of boots...
Alot of coffee consumed for no particular reason
Creepy perving from afar on aforementioned boots...

Sadly it doesn't end with me stealing these babies (that may have been a somewhat obvious move)
But even better...it doesn't end here.

Are you intrigued?

I'll bet you are.

Love

xo

Bec

Of Snakes & Broken Hearts

No...don't get your hopes up...this is not a deep and meaningful philosophical rant.
I mean seriously...what can you say about snakes and broken hearts anyway? Unless:
(a) You want to off yourself a la Cleopatra
(b) You're going on a major sugar binge on a rainbow assortment of gummy snakes

In any case, it actually kind of sounds like the sordid beginning of a B-rated Mills & Boon literary porn novel.

It could be a literary ode to my sudden impulsive craze for acquiring knuckledusters.
There's just something oh-so-fun about wearing serious bling on your fingers.

One takes the age old cliche 'Wearing one's heart on the sleeve' to a whole new blingtastic level (It's actually a broken heart for the record...and no it's not because I'm wallowing in self pity-tastic sorrow at the fact that nobody wants to date me...Never...) and the other is just the most awesome pointless snake cuff ring from Erin Wasson's Low Luv line that I have been crushing on for literally like...eternity and beyond. Okay I lie...um...ever since the beginning of this year? That's long enough as far as one-sided love affairs go...

Feel loved. Or go nuts with knuckledusters. Either way...it's pretty fab.

Love Love Love

xx

Bec

Absolutely Fabulous (Brunswick Street)

Meeting fabulous people (in their rather ab-fab surroundings) makes me ever so happy!
And getting to have a chat to Sam was definitely the fantabulous highlight of my little trip to Brunswick St.
Am I repeating the word fabulous (and/or variations thereof) far too much in two sentences?

Truth is. It cannot be helped.

Mind you, it's easy to get distracted by the temple of all things borderline crazy/camp/cool at Shag. But hello...beyond awesome tuxedo blazer...90s leather pants (actually old Sportsgirl...in case you were wondering. One of those moments where I'm left drooling in 'Good Lord, that is so wrong and yet so awesome at the same time')...nifty shirt...suspenders and combat boots. And then there's the hand-made neckpiece. Just stratospherically amazing with a capital A?

Y-E-S (PLC taught me how to spell that...no wait...kindergarten did)

After five minutes of just pure *jaw-drop and gasp* spasticity, I was then suddenly hit with a wave of: 'God, I am supremely untalented.' I have pretty much tried my hand at every hand-made crafty type thing on the planet (including self-painted tops and step-by-step cross-stitching) and epically failed at all. Supreme moment of talent envy. Especially when I realized it was the man's side hobby.

And therein lies what should be my mission for the week: Start developing a beyond fabulous hobby.

Cross stitch anyone?

Love

xo

Bec

Blog-session: Self Service

I believe that everyone has had one of those moments where you see something and go: 'I swear somebody has reached into the furthest recesses of my mind, found exactly what makes me ever so happy and then made it...and why the hell didn't I think of it first?'

I have several such moments. All the time. And I had a major one last night when I stumbled upon the Self Service blog. Seriously, if you have to waste 'so-called-productive-work-time' on something...I have decided (a la Michael Jackson) that THIS IS IT!

It's pretty much what I would do in a blog if I had seriously cool things to obsess over ranging from classic camel Chanel flats to crazy furry hoof boots to vintage Celine bags. A whole host of mega awesome photo shoots from which to do 'Before/After' shots (like Clearasil except with people who clearly had no zits at any point in their life...or any other problem for that matter). And if I was friends with the uber stylish elite like Alexander Wang or Camille Bidault-Waddington and forced them to do pieces on 'The Essentials of Life' (kind of like the Proust questionnaire but infinitely more shallow...I never understood the Proust questionnaire anyway)

In any case - there is something for everyone to obsess over. Whether you like people, perving on models or fashion porn.

Love

xo

Bec

PS. It does help in this case with all of the above if you are a beyond stratospherically fab Parisian biannual with a penchant for placing beautiful topless girls on your covers

PPS. Visit http://selfservicemagazine.com/blog/ (Or just click on my links list - because I can't seem to make the links work on the posts...that's how much Blogger has decided it hates my ranting)

PPPS. Keep it obsessive

A Pointless Education

A healthy body makes a healthy mind.
The more you read, the more you know.
And every girl needs a vintage Fendi belt stolen from her grandmother.
Because...all that glitters is gold.

So I don't really have empirical proof of the veracity of the first two well loved truisms but I do believe 100% in the truth of the my last made-up saying of wisdom. And if you don't have a grandmother who has vintage shiny belts - Steal someone else's grandmother.

But I did enjoy food-lusting over Daniel's overpriced Bircher muesli at my home away from home, Seven Seeds, which was far too pretty to eat. But if you have to eat, eat beautifully no? At least I'm pretty sure that's what they do in Paris anyway.

And educational reading? Issues of Jalouse are totally all I need for my education in life. When I used to go manual in class - it was all about sneak reading a magazine under the nose of the lecturer...all the time.
Law textbooks? Quoi? Why read when you can stare at quasi-porny, amazingly inspirational photo shoots all day?

You totally concur.

Love

xo

Bec

Aren't You A Pretty Rainbow Thing!

I wish I were cool enough to pull off rainbow colours (I'm sure I had some sad pitiful attempt during my regrettable high school years with knee high rainbow toe socks...I actually found them the other day...they have some merit as foot warmers as long as nobody sees them)

Point is - I wish I were awesome enough to wear several colours. At the same time. But I'm barely looking passably stylish with black (oh I do love black)

Anyway this handicap (yeah it totally is a disability) - makes me super jealous of uber-cool people like Steph who can effortlessly rock things which look like what my totally 'stuck in the Make Love Not War' era primary school art teacher would wear if she had the opportunity to blend all her favourite colours into a ridiculously fabulous sweater.

Get colourfully trippy.

And who knows...somewhere over the rainbow...dum dee dum...

xx

Bec

The Conservationist

'Reduce your carbon footprint by decking yourself out in vintage goodness'

If somebody had tried to promote environmental awareness/conservation to me like that in school, I probably wouldn't have been overcome by the fact that according to the CERES board survey - it would take a grand total of 5 planets to sustain me (I think that's kind of horribly funnyl though...in a terribly un-PC evil intergalactic ruler type way)

In any case - I am totally about going green now. I buy organic cotton tees (they really do feel better), recycle my paper, eat organic and to the greatest extent possible I do buy Fair Trade coffee. But it's always lovely to meet that person doing that little bit extra for the planet. Like Edward (I also made the faux pas of assuming his accent was American when he is in fact from Canada...and I really should remember that people in the US of A do in fact have a much cooler neighbour) who makes a rather dapper/dashing representative for the Australian Conservation Foundation.

The outfit is amazingly 100% vintage (I'm terribly obsessed with the blazer and the too-awesome-for-words feathered chapeau) and the boots (sadly unavailable unless you care to get them hand-made in Vietnam)

Sad boot envy or not - it's a great example of that cliched and much abused saying: 'Walking the talk'

And I like to think that my aim to improve my op-shopping eye is really part of me doing my part to save the planet (Captain Planet all the way!)...

Go Green & Much Love

xo

Bec

PS. My PLC compadres - You will be either most pleased or disgustingly shocked to discover that I did in fact do MY extra bit for the environment by joining up with the ACF

Unhealthy Obsession: Brogues Part II

Or perhaps I should have re-titled this: 'The Never-Ending Quest to Emulate Gainsbourg' (Either that or buy that kind of obscenely expensive Gainsbourg is God sweater from Net-A-Porter)

A rather hideous fellow who somehow oozed nonchalant sleazy sexiness, Left Bank artistic cool and is the very embodiment of the saying that French men achieve great things (and usually contract a venereal disease along the way). Words of the saying. Not mine. A twentieth century gentleman of leisure who married Jane Birkin (of the Birkin bag) and spawned Charlotte Gainsbourg (need I say more)

So inspired was I by my love affair with Serge & Jane (in honour of her...I do have a pair of much loved high waisted denim hotpants...if only I had her legs) that I inconveniently lugged around a box of Repetto Zizi richelieus all around L'Hexagone during my 'Oh you learned French in school...we should probably try going to the country now' trip. Being all patent, black and shiny and ridiculously comfy and soft (the genius of Gainsbourg is that the man knew how to rock a pair of girl's jazz shoes...although they are inspired by men's shoes...and now I'm just getting gender confused)...it was pure crazy l'amour at first sight. That's what Paris does to you.

Technically I should have bought them in white. But the practical penny pinching Asian in me figured I'd get more wear out of anything black and shiny. Then...the not-so-practical magpie in me then went and bought an even shinier pair a couple of years later...But they have gold! And they have a cut-out detail...which makes them different right? Right?

You can blame Gainsbourg for all this. And the unhealthy obsession while we're at it.

No seriously.

Love

xo

Bec

Unhealthy Obsession: Brogues Part I

I should probably be sent to some mental institution for my unhealthy obsession with brogues.

The fact that I go absolutely postal for anything and everything that vaguely resembles a dandy man shoe.
But there's something about the humble winkle-popper (yeah apparently that's actually a real term for it) that I just can't get out of my head. Something that evokes the air of the well-heeled dandy gentleman of leisure (I am a bit in love with the idea of the failing 19th century European aristocrat who was good at nothing and yet brilliant at everything, and were I a man, I'm sure I would have come up with the idea for the classic nothingness novel: 'The Life & Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman' and its French counterpart)

I could go brogue stalking forever. I should probably branch out and have more of a love affair with other types of shoes (I am a bit of a boot stalker as well) but it probably isn't going to happen anytime this week (or the next...but no guarantees about the week after next...I could have found a completely new thing to go mental for...)

With so much to love from classic, impeccably made Ballys (I'd pretty much just met the man but I'd decided we were going to be firm friends after sighting his babies) to rain-splattered slightly whorey cut-out pair (I did feel terribly sorry for my friend as they probably weren't the proper foot attire for a downpour) or Steph's adorable (similarly rain splattered) vintage and much loved-and-abused richelieus (yes they sound so much classier en francais)...

How could you not love a good brogue?

Get your dandy factor on this week.

And send much love to your mamas today!

Love

xo

Bec

Jail La La

Being delinquent never looked or sounded so so good...

Love

xo

Bec

The Yo Ring

Some things were just accidentally meant to be.
Like a Facebook marriage to epic girl crush after an impromptu class hijacking led to a legendary eight hour girl-date on the grass.
Like landing a date with a cute boy after technological fail leads to one being pathetically stranded at a bar (I nearly spelled that as bra...spell fail).
Like photos that look all edgy and artistic when really it was just a case of 'What the hell is happening with this camera'

And some things are just accidents. Like falling into a pool. That's never graceful. And definitely a story for another time.

To add to the list of beautiful mishaps: 'Like pointlessly buying something else awesome when the aim of the game was to purchase a much lusted for item instead'

And thus began the recent love affair with the magic Yo ring - which technically should have been my vintage button knuckleduster (which okay...arguably are pretty damn awesome as well...I mean they are buttons...and it was a huge ring and I made a pact with myself that 2010 was going to be my Year of the Knuckleduster because it makes me feel all powerful editrix or just plain cool honestly)

It should have been a simple, uncomplicated mission. But one look at the selection of kind of novelty but fully awesome perspex typewriter rings kind-of-maybe-possibly made me do a complete 360. So I ended up with the Yo ring. And not the knuckleduster. Gold plated, kind of weird/crazy/kooky awesomeness. I like to think it kind of has a subversively humorous editor look to it (I did wear it with my editor outfit the other day and it got much love)

Plus it saves me having to say 'Hi' verbally to people anymore. Or rather...should I say 'Yo'. And I could deal with less effort.

Lots of love
(And in true ghetto style...Peace out)
xo

Bec