Change of Homes

Hey loves and stuff -

In case you haven't heard the news - We've moved to a NEWER AND PRETTIER PLACE
Which can be found at:

http://kohandco.tumblr.com

Apologies if you haven't been getting the LOVE here.
But there are bigger pictures and more of the juice you all know and LOVE. Yes? Yes. Yes.

CHECK IT.

And keep it sexy and real!

xx

Forever and ever

Bec

Let It Rain

It's sunny in Melbourne.
Apparently it will be sunny and perfect all weekend.
Kind of brilliant. Yes, I am dying to whip out the K Jacques in all their Tropezienne glory. And the summer wardrobe that I have been building up steadily since the middle of winter is ripe for the showing.

But truth be told, I kind of want it to rain.

So I'm going to go do a rain dance now.
If only so I have good reason for jumping into puddles. Gloriously. With these babies from Ilse Jacobsen. Which also kind of belatedly arrived in the mail. Just in time for spring. How convenient. Not.

Particularly when they're pretty much the ultimate in 'pick-me-up-for-shitty-weather' boots.
Snuggly and fleece-lined. So basically like those not-so-beloved-Uggs (which really should never ever make it onto a pavement far beyond the confines of one's house) but ten million times better. Handmade in some area of Denmark which I'm not even going to bother attempting to pronounce. Adorably hitting at the ankles and with happy camper-esque laces. Like the preternaturally cool Scandinavian lovechild of Hunters and Doc Martens.

It kind of makes me wish there was a snowstorm outside my house...

But I'll take this back tomorrow.

Maybe.

Sunshine-filled kisses

xx

Bec

Maripossa

Newsflash - I'm having dreams of butterflies.
And no, before you go all Matrix-guru on me - not of the existentialist/metaphysical Tao/Kafkaesque variety.
But rather of the super-dreamy, spectacular shiny pieces of blingtastic goodness from Maripossa (which, to show off my non-existent Spanish linguistic skills - Hola anyone? - means 'butterfly' and also serves a neat double purpose as a nifty little insult...whoever said my spiels weren't educational...such a liar...)

Maripossa is the lovechild of the truly sublime Lauren Besser.
Who I totally have a girl-crush on now. And who is pretty much worth an ode and more unto herself.
She's part effortlessly cool shaman-esque, Charlotte Kemp Muhl epitome of fabulousity and part adorable hostess-with-the mostest (I was welcomed with a variety of bagels...need I say more...)

Clearly cool people make the coolest things. 'Nuff said.
I've been a bit obsessed with her hand-crocheted metal necklaces and natural crystal pieces since the day I first set eyes on them and drooled all over the counter (incidentally while indulging on yet another piece of bling...it's beginning to sound like a crack habit no? But like way prettier...). Amazingly intricate. Delicate and kooky. Girly with a good liberal dose of bad-ass edge. Like our shared love of girls who 'do it their own way', Erin and Lou. Tough and dreamy. Anything goes really.

The best thing is - you can tell it comes from the heart.
The result of some life-changing travel and an unstoppable need to 'go her own way' in everything that she does.
Maripossa is like the sartorial god-sent answer to those of us who crave the slightly off-kilter. The esoteric. The muse who embraces individuality...to the Nth degree. I'm bored with the conventionally beautiful. So challenge me.
It's for she who is inspired by everything and anything. The random. In an aesthetically indulgent way.

And so I got to invade her creative space.
And even better - I got to take back a little piece of positive crystal dangly-shmangly goodness.
And dangerously lust-filled dreams for those new tough-as-nails metal tube necklaces and double rock knuckledusters.

It was probably a dream.
It seems almost too good to be true.

Keep it in the dreamtime mes amours!

xx

Bec

PS. More information and L-O-V-E on Maripossa can be found at - http://www.maripossa.com.au

Happy Feet

There's something about happy shoes.
That makes life just that little bit less...bleurgh.
Which is why everyone should have at least one pair. Or multiples.
It's like the ultimate pick-me-up. But better than coffee (I may take that back after my first cup of Seven Seeds today...but anyway...)

Like cute-as-a-button yellow Repettos.
The type that not-so-occasionally get stares that scream 'Good Lord, those shoes are loud...'
But do you really give a damn? Frankly my dear...absolutely not.
Nostalgic because it reminds me of carefree kindergarten paint days (where primary colours were du jour and grass-eating was the gourmet 'thing' of the week...) and a beloved (although somewhat cliched) yellow rain-smock...
Perfect for running around and making like Marina Lynchuk frolicking around the Arc de Triomphe to the sounds of Brigitte Bardot...

I'm getting too lost in the dream to care.
A dream of retro Left Bank crooners and getting messy with paint...

See...happy shoes...brilliant...

Give us a smile today my loves

xx

Bec

Deliciously...Dior

Sometimes label love can actually be a good thing (i.e. stereotyping people - with hilarious consequences and/or the simple task of being addicted to colourfully sticking post-it notes onto things so you don't drown in an academically induced flood of tree-killing papers...not that this has ever happened to me...)

And often it can be a bad thing - did you really have to ask why Ed Hardy went bust? (And if you did - we can never ever ever be friends...) or ye olde poorly made fake mishap - where you feel a cruel need to inform the proud wearer that 'Cucci' is in fact spelled with a G...

All the same. A bit of shameless logo bling never hurt anyone.
It's possibly the 80s Dynasty-relic, blingtastic, mah-jong playing, mistress-bashing Asian woman in me...
With a wardrobe full of old-school gold Chanel costume jewellery, I wouldn't really be complaining but that's entirely off tangent.

It probably explains why I'm a not-so-secret fan of my new Dior belt (part of the impressive birthday coup once again...)
It's mostly subtle luxe (super-yummy chocolate brown Italian leather...) but with a classic yet slightly 'in your face' buckle.
The whole 'You have the only one in Melbourne' factor probably didn't hurt either...

It's the perfect way to indulge your not-so-inner show-off.
And to be a bit cosmopolitan spoilt brat.
Admit it, you want to join the club...

Elitist and wholly yours,

xx

Bec

Lust For Life

I love this for so many reasons.
It's the perfect way to usher in a weekend of sinfulness.
Soft-focused and hazy. Like perfect lazy afternoons.
In bed with your friends and lovers. Recovering. Perhaps too well.

Hipster banality and singing into flowers has never looked so appropriate.
But perhaps the biggest win point of all is that it makes me feel more normal for dancing around randomly in my bedroom.

Maybe I'm crazy or just fucked in the head...

To reckless decadence!

Clink those shot glasses and away we go again...

BISES

xx

Bec

Origami

Raise your hands people if you too were suckered (cue word for forced via everything short of physical violence) into doing origami with your mother for its apparent beneficial contributions to your childhood development.

Nod silently (and try not to cry from the painful memories) if you were an epic fail at aforementioned activity.
So while everyone else created something beautiful and cool...like a jumping frog (yes - who would have thought paper frogs could be that talented...) and an impeccable crane...or the ultimate...a paper abode...
You simply ended up with a creased piece of square paper (the effect of many frustrated attempts) and a unique creation worthy of the term 'abstract art' by the truly avant garde.

Despite the childhood trauma - my subconscious desire to become adept at the art of origami is apparently alive and well.
It would definitely explain why I went slightly ga-ga (but not like pyrotechnic bra Gaga) for this crane necklace by Claire Taylor (who apparently is actually talented at origami). I was originally attracted to it in Kabbalah thread red then decided that embracing my inner insane Madonna may not be the best option at this stage.

Delicate and very zen. Spiritual. Lovingly handmade (feel the love - each crane is made with paper then cast in metal). A bit wabi-sabi (no not the horseradish that makes for very non-graceful eating experiences) - but rather the very Japanese love of the imperfect.

It almost makes me want to take origami classes again. Almost.

May life's pleasures unfold themselves beautifully for you today.

Kisses

xx

Bec

PS. Assuming they haven't been snapped up by other failed yet secretly OC origami-philes out there (they are out there...I know it) - find your special bird hanging on a mannequin neck at Alice Euphemia. In all happy, hipster colours of the rainbow...