tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-367326772024-03-19T16:24:11.191-04:00a broad called susana broad called susan: European Vacationeuro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-50254979199725041422009-06-28T12:27:00.007-04:002009-06-28T12:57:14.257-04:00Where The Wild Things Are<span style="font-family:arial;">Everyone is talking about this Summer's blockbusters here at the moment. Lots of amazing things are coming out, but one of the films I'm most excited about isn't coming out until October 16th. Where The Wild Things Are is originally a childrens book written by Maurice Sendak in the early 1960's. Its adaptation is being done by Spike Jonze and is so beautiful I cried watching the trailer. (you can cry along with me <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NOkQ4dYVaM">here)</a> The basic plot is about a young mischievous boy who, after terrorizing a dog with a fork, is sent to his room without dinner. The young boy then dreams up a world of wild animals and monsters whom he can identify with to deal with his anger. Eventually he realises the consequences of his actions and goes back to reality. I feel like this is something I really relate to. As a child who spent a disproportionate amount of time on my own, I always retreated to my fantasy world (although mine existed in the realm of Narnia, true story) as a source of comfort and companionship. Oft</span><span style="font-family:arial;">en dealing with my own feelings of unexplainable anger and loneliness in this world, I always knew when it was time to come back.<br />I'm really looking forward to getting lost in that world again this Summer.<br /><br /> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsKc-rdaKs6zI1f1a_DtqWnSYpQoBjdC_imP1JnvbDIQ1TqTqJzjR8-xxyp3ENI1hfA7xxc26nmFf-vhF2zXYjGilihRoDDNU8xuIf2yjIBhyO3w8WeQiz-pERhHqbUxA_fOkSeA/s1600-h/where_the_wild_things_are_poster_01.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsKc-rdaKs6zI1f1a_DtqWnSYpQoBjdC_imP1JnvbDIQ1TqTqJzjR8-xxyp3ENI1hfA7xxc26nmFf-vhF2zXYjGilihRoDDNU8xuIf2yjIBhyO3w8WeQiz-pERhHqbUxA_fOkSeA/s400/where_the_wild_things_are_poster_01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352422609547297874" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com65tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-65333833403829120412009-06-16T20:27:00.003-04:002009-06-16T20:44:58.021-04:00Melting faces<span style="font-family:arial;">No, for once I'm not talking about a metal band (we all know how much I love a good face melting shred as much as the next person) I'm talking about our poor friend the Goth who despite the weather continues to represent in the most sweaty of attire. The best new blog I have found is <a href="http://www.gothsinhotweather.com/">here</a> at the Goths in Hot Weather blog. A whole blog dedicated to the vampires of the night....... in full sweltering sun.<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg-u-BXadZtUURXo_x6tiXPZTTdJKrESKTeK2fmpQr74yEPatzqieeuJu3I8DC6mxp2n8VCjfgn_f2VXX4Q4Ikf7u8u1gexkL_uo8UrymQtwPCdzn03q31BilndJjqOfnPYc-Zlw/s1600-h/Trance+Kat.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg-u-BXadZtUURXo_x6tiXPZTTdJKrESKTeK2fmpQr74yEPatzqieeuJu3I8DC6mxp2n8VCjfgn_f2VXX4Q4Ikf7u8u1gexkL_uo8UrymQtwPCdzn03q31BilndJjqOfnPYc-Zlw/s400/Trance+Kat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348090852300683602" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Rock on my vinyl clad friends.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-11042191209329513242009-06-03T08:18:00.003-04:002009-06-03T08:29:13.612-04:00Jason, are you here?<span style="font-family:arial;">I finally moved back to Brooklyn last weekend. Thank goodness. The move was less than great as I couldn't get a truck until the evening, which meant returning it close to midnight. Took the truck back to the rental lot which was deserted except for all the rental trucks which just looked all eery lined up perfectly. Couldn't find the key drop box and spent nearly half an hour wandering around the yard in the dark trying to find it. The only thing I could find was this<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ4rIZ6GSIfoQBEe3LiRL5zE1A7WOpwwVDcaLPQJaD4KTzHqrfCJIlsIcn3WroPyyya5G0rGr57wOqSr1C2Ip9VZgxig_kmW_vWF64jrbyhNJVb2xGqmLXxYfDkyPw3IWevhowng/s1600-h/mask.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ4rIZ6GSIfoQBEe3LiRL5zE1A7WOpwwVDcaLPQJaD4KTzHqrfCJIlsIcn3WroPyyya5G0rGr57wOqSr1C2Ip9VZgxig_kmW_vWF64jrbyhNJVb2xGqmLXxYfDkyPw3IWevhowng/s400/mask.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343076158641113298" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">just randomly placed on the wall of the u-haul lot with no explanation as to what on earth it could possibly be doing there (not to mention the mini cane behind it. What the fuck, man????)<br />Not wanting to hang around and find out Jason has switched to a tribal mask for a 'Jason takes Brooklyn' special I hauled ass and took back the keys the next day.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-88510037007636930982009-05-29T08:33:00.004-04:002009-05-29T09:01:08.335-04:00I know what you did last Summer..... and I'm doing something else.<span style="font-family:arial;">Okay, now I have that bad tag line out of my system we can move on. With Memorial Day weekend behind us, everyone has started talking about their plans for the Summer. Theres always lots of fun free things to do which is great, and while most people are escaping the city for at least a month, this is not an option for poor little Euro. So I decided to set myself a Summer project. Documenting the cast of characters and their inspired wardrobes that make up this hodge podge of a city I call home. It all came about the other week when the most amazingly dressed man I have ever seen was spotted hanging out side the church across from work.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8nTtT2IpKVT3jftzCB8NZv5OdD6aQ5cK7gBiZtPwxQoiw_KpOHSSCyzv0scP8xn5oReUtEso3M2wzeGCBoKX-hvOBhtFiAQUbEX9yjmzoExD9sZ2hyHSF45LVhCe_RiW99vRrQ/s1600-h/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8nTtT2IpKVT3jftzCB8NZv5OdD6aQ5cK7gBiZtPwxQoiw_KpOHSSCyzv0scP8xn5oReUtEso3M2wzeGCBoKX-hvOBhtFiAQUbEX9yjmzoExD9sZ2hyHSF45LVhCe_RiW99vRrQ/s400/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341227319561744930" border="0" /></a><br />Its hard to decipher but he was wearing a cropped black velvet suit, a silver sequinned blouse, short white gloves and a hat that looked like it came right out of 1950's Arab Emirates and into my dreams. He also had the smallest, cutest, fiercest (I know thats not a word, but go with me) dog I have ever seen. I so wanted to desperately ask him if I could take his picture but of course fear got the better of me and I wimped out. What it did do though, is inspire me to stop staring and start snapping. I'm going to start a series of photos documenting all of the amazing fashion I see every day here. Sort of a NYC version of Tokyo Fruits I guess. So what if I ask someone if I can take their photo? They should consider it a compliment! Keep your eyes out peeps, for this upcoming blog series.......euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-42209579162093696282009-04-30T08:39:00.004-04:002009-05-16T18:31:21.181-04:00Pick which chubby toddler I am<span style="font-family:arial;">So last night I was planning on writing a blog on the brilliant Tony Oursler exhibition I saw the other week (It may still happen. Its moved into the potential blog pile) until I got an email from an aunt I've recently got back in touch with. Shes one of the many black sheep of my family and has been off the radar for a number of years. Feeling a bit sentime</span><span style="font-family:arial;">ntal after being away from the family for a number of years, she sent me this old photo<br /></span> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-vdWbQlMvSSajM-0fJLQ2K0X_f4QK5jWVGnCqalUobU1-zZVtBMTftXzA45HAWbTxOnKPQa4W-_ehBc-Q-ih6g5C-X8gchh9zPBJzJVpDPjoDkJ4NWePc9vNTm6RXRSqN570jQ/s1600-h/oldie.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 271px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-vdWbQlMvSSajM-0fJLQ2K0X_f4QK5jWVGnCqalUobU1-zZVtBMTftXzA45HAWbTxOnKPQa4W-_ehBc-Q-ih6g5C-X8gchh9zPBJzJVpDPjoDkJ4NWePc9vNTm6RXRSqN570jQ/s400/oldie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330466607514229970" border="0" /></a><br />Theres so much joy and love in this photo, its a shame I don't remember it. My family has been through a lot of heartbreak. Some of the people in this photo are no longer with us, some are no longer classed as members of the family. At this exact moment though, it looks like we couldn't be happier. Everyone is smiling (bizarrely, with the exception of me. Maybe because I knew a cousin was trying to give me those stupid "bunny ears" in the photo!) and looks like they genuinely care about each other. How did we get from this to where we are today? In any case, I think I actually feel comforted by this photo in a weird sort of way. Like, we may not be this family anymore, and I may not remember it but we were capable of being the family I always wanted.euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-53403094719984619942009-04-14T08:37:00.002-04:002009-04-14T09:42:16.646-04:00If you need me, I'll be here<span style="font-family: arial;">No, seriously. Peter and I just booked tickets to the Cinque Terre coast in Italy for 4 days and are staying in this village. Sigh......</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9D5ohoe5diJP6JO7hcHsYCfgyUxGm3G_raoGnomAKZ8UvJT5Y1gWB9rFye6dGgX1jI28erXxxCqvllFF6ZoOWnTgu3BYXToRtqgqEfFOMr1OmpEIptyktNLnqNo2RoMBPMYwvTQ/s1600-h/Cinque+Terre.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9D5ohoe5diJP6JO7hcHsYCfgyUxGm3G_raoGnomAKZ8UvJT5Y1gWB9rFye6dGgX1jI28erXxxCqvllFF6ZoOWnTgu3BYXToRtqgqEfFOMr1OmpEIptyktNLnqNo2RoMBPMYwvTQ/s320/Cinque+Terre.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324525340953203858" border="0" /></a>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-36091930831185637622009-04-12T15:22:00.002-04:002009-04-12T15:53:21.791-04:00My sisters in the struggle<span style="font-family: arial;">For the last 5 days I've had one of my oldest gay friends visiting. He moved from Melbourne to London with his doctor boyfriend a year ago, and I haven't seen him since I left Oz. I was super excited to catch up. The first night Marcus arrived we went out for a fancy cocktail and a cheap and cheerful meal (which, by the way, is my idea of the perfect date) after dinner Marcus asked if we could go to a gay bar. I said that was perfectly fine. He wanted to head off to Christopher St (which was once the heart of the gay community) in search of a bar. Its funny, but I soon realised that I haven't been to a gay bar the whole year I've been here, and that not one was coming to mind. Although I have many a gay friend, most of them aren't the type to flock to only boy bars and stay there. Almost every single place I frequent here is a mixed crowd. I was quite surprised with his insistence on going to a boy bar, so off we went, finally settling on the historic <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stonewall_Inn">Stonewall Inn</a>.<br />This got me thinking a lot about how different it is here and how much i take it for granted. Marcus and I got to talking about why he only felt comfortable in gay bars. I knew it had nothing to do with picking up (Hes in quite a serious relationship and neither partner is the type to stray) and was genuinely curious. Marcus told me that growing up in Australia, he really only ever felt safe to be himself at gay bars. Whenever he had frequented a 'straight' bar there was almost always some sort of confrontation. He said he often felt quite fearful if he was forced by friends to go to a straight bar, so subsequently made the decision to never to to one again.<br />NYC on the other hand, is one great big hodge podge. I can honestly say I don't really know any 'straight' bars. Supposedly, after Giulliani cleaned up the drug problem in the city, most of the gay bars and clubs shut down. I think a combination of this and the sheer growth of the population has turned most clubs and bars into a mixed crowd. Even at a gay club I went to on Friday night, the crowd was quite mixed (i.e the group of German tourists in line before us)<br />Now I know New York, is pretty liberal and sometimes I forget that (I still remember a friend from Australia coming over and being shocked by how many openly affectionate gay couples you see out in the streets) but is Australia still so backward? Thats so upsetting. I guess I've been away so long that I've forgotten what its like back there. I know the rest of the world isn't quite up to NYC pace, but is it still that conservative?<br /></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-34127388746328733972009-03-11T22:31:00.005-04:002009-03-12T08:56:48.993-04:00Grass Knuckles<span style="font-family:arial;">I'm in love. With these AMAZING moss growing rings.</span><br /><div><div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312280004651940082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9g-CB99elpHOWljnpxv3CjheV-FXmRDwmpOBDmlrSGK40IUxmgu8p9_xynP21VUwJp0v1VIRheS64NiKj8BZaKibzRP2ScrEYi-73XmTKuoq3_nja35tQgOCR5Rg2_IMpR3OpA/s320/vefur-grow-01_v3.jpg" border="0" /></p><p><span >They're by an extremely talented (and kinda dreamy) Iclandic product designer, <a href="http://hafsteinnjuliusson.com/index.php?/other/about/">Hafsteinn Juliusson </a>I love the way these rings cater to my lifestyle right now. I was having a discussion only the other day about how New Yorkers shop and how we all live in such small spaces, we mostly only really invest in pieces we can have on our person, instead of spending huge amounts of money furnishing a house. Having a garden on my finger seems to articulate that in a way I didn't think possible. I love the fact that you have to care for them, like a real garden.</span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312282336404437698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfk0Ym_3gZPKPqqjrYTre-9xJFlir5gVdBFa9axd3_cBlTwfriuO1IBQIeJGOlsbZ6oPWr0Exv5nRXIaiBHuF6csXVIcrq9C51jxtbBWSUNHAIbWZN7D4b1WqmJqf2hB_hB8eDiQ/s320/web-growing-03.gif" border="0" /><br /></p><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312282518608198818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxZGk4Cdsf2o1BdigCuPTCojiBN-DxrosL_DHcECLNUIGpqB9hg3IZpkI1c9MJS9VVte9MQf2-LijyTnPNBZNErUd2D1xkRoA4m38OO9pY1o_TGY3EOZEkgY3tao-L_HiDcU_wQ/s320/web-growing-04.gif" border="0" /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312282615493420258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPc6-nrE992yuSq7f2Bb-e1QGNG9Ph3_83awKmcw1k2G8H8BcuomoruOY2DO0Z83JEUIQxCnSoWolAZk_iRt6_p6t_e0OYlm1TMRcVPIY-xdR3ngsFOXUCIwM0HOJ-Fl2PJh8yNg/s320/web-store-003.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div><br />Sadly, they're only available at the Reykjavik Art Museum. Maybe i need to plan another trip back for these..... Meanwhile I will drool over his other products <a href="http://hafsteinnjuliusson.com/index.php?/projects/contact/">here</a>.euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-12775190781959334962009-02-26T10:50:00.001-05:002009-02-26T10:52:30.428-05:00Yay!!!!!!!!!!<span style="font-family:arial;">Peter just booked his next flight over. I feel like this</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-cqdXLGKB2NFsk1Rs2qMJR9EUS_SXN-vdvjQoX-dvoQCNsutTtwRbE2tp1Jox4lVa_fVjM7PTmB3lYbOFibrMyD3Ks7PZ6RnaSBKFbOiPH8RHUzb13CMQDUPM6OrphHtvJjnNzA/s1600-h/FEQ43R8FF22EY6K.MEDIUM.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-cqdXLGKB2NFsk1Rs2qMJR9EUS_SXN-vdvjQoX-dvoQCNsutTtwRbE2tp1Jox4lVa_fVjM7PTmB3lYbOFibrMyD3Ks7PZ6RnaSBKFbOiPH8RHUzb13CMQDUPM6OrphHtvJjnNzA/s400/FEQ43R8FF22EY6K.MEDIUM.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307134464710201282" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-47483039549996752602009-02-24T15:00:00.001-05:002009-02-24T15:02:18.591-05:00What have they done to you Hello Kitty?<span style="font-family:arial;">MAC's latest Hello Kitty cosmetics range. Gets bizaare around the 2:20 mark. I feel dirty after watching that.<br /><br /></span><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/x8OA-fBtAAY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/x8OA-fBtAAY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-23051968984398125232009-02-24T11:25:00.002-05:002009-02-24T11:35:16.061-05:00My other love<span style="font-family:arial;">Everyone this is Colby</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjed_d0JRu43Ths6kscsHf_fLVacpuII6BMEF-mwG1mE3nk12JhqMNk8aFeNGRwOJIPItpDgRmyF2niPARoMaWTr6ae3ZryA6C734tdzdW1RCmLZk-zGdQnNgUTztXsCR9b2FcPfw/s1600-h/GetAttachment.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjed_d0JRu43Ths6kscsHf_fLVacpuII6BMEF-mwG1mE3nk12JhqMNk8aFeNGRwOJIPItpDgRmyF2niPARoMaWTr6ae3ZryA6C734tdzdW1RCmLZk-zGdQnNgUTztXsCR9b2FcPfw/s400/GetAttachment.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306401196700196866" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">He lives in my sharehouse and I'm in love with him. Sadly hes moving to Austin, Texas in a month and I'm afraid I'm not dealing well with his impending departure. Colby has been my surrogate love for the last year and now hes leaving me for a more chilled out life on a ranch to make music, chase rabbits and turn from city living hipster dog into a Ralph Lauren ranch loving free spirit. Colby's mommy (and because shes American, I have to spell it that way) asked if I could come and be his au pair. If the job offered sponsorship, I would take it in a heartbeat.<br /></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-74810039903678896702009-02-23T10:47:00.002-05:002009-02-23T10:51:22.381-05:00I need a holiday<span style="font-family:arial;">And I have to stay here<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbJ6Fxc1bvEIiAIDUAHk1WXb1aJpWtf4RbGxRXf3UDZlSLP6G1CAD1jFALayqWh1nw1de3j5lshPMLWsCGyQEG9NkWQ58ZiOJXwfzXQZ-frso6E8TK6iMFzIunNeSLP_yA2YxrA/s1600-h/mStudio-View-to-Sea.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbJ6Fxc1bvEIiAIDUAHk1WXb1aJpWtf4RbGxRXf3UDZlSLP6G1CAD1jFALayqWh1nw1de3j5lshPMLWsCGyQEG9NkWQ58ZiOJXwfzXQZ-frso6E8TK6iMFzIunNeSLP_yA2YxrA/s400/mStudio-View-to-Sea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306020433099245122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">At the <a href="http://www.hixislandhouse.com">Hix Island House</a> on a tiny island just off the Puerto Rican coastline. Its amazingly designed and at a reasonable price. Want to come?<br /></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-2175183253635638622009-02-21T18:12:00.005-05:002009-02-22T14:07:01.654-05:00One year on......<span style="font-family:arial;">Hello Dears,<br />So in a plot to avoid doing work at work while on my own, I decided to post a blog. It had been on the cards for a while but only now am I finding the time. I've had a busy start to the year. I've had multiple employees resign, I've had a near lawsuit from an employee fade off into the sunset (thank gawd!) never to be spoken of again, I've had old friends meet my beloved, a whirlwind trip back to Oz and this week I celebrated my one year anniversary of living in the big smoke.<br />I can't believe its been a year already. Where did the time go? How has a third of my time here passed me by already? Have I done anything really creative that I'm proud of? Honestly, not really, but I think thats okay. Work here has been so much more than I ever imagined. I've gone from fancy cocktail receptions at the Guggenheim, to standing a foot deep in poo water with only a sponge and a bucket to keep me company. I've been hotel concierge to many of the designers friends and confidant to most of my staff while we have all gone through some sort of personal tragedy.<br />I was reflecting on a conversation that I had with my predecessor not so long ago about how involved this job was and how impossible I would probably find it to still successfully run my own label while doing this job. He said that my main focus should be this job and just enjoying what time I have in NYC. At the time I laughed it off, and thought that I would do things differently and that I would be able to deal with it better than he did. Its only now I realise that he was right (to an extent) and that this city is a tough one that constantly challenges me, but is ultimately preparing me for when I set up my own business/family/home when I finally return to the motherland. I feel like there isn't anything I couldn't face, or that I don't know about starting a business and for that I'm forever grateful.<br />Its not come without hard times though. Spending a year in a long distance relationship has been one of the most difficult things I've ever chosen to do. Its strange to think that I've actually spent more time away from my partner than I have with him. Sometimes I worry that he will eventually move here, but we won't connect anymore because we've grown so much in the last year, but in opposite directions, but thats only something I will know when it acutally happens, so I guess theres no point dwelling on it now.<br />I had a friend from home come and visit and meet my dearest for the first time over the holidays. I think it was tough for all parties involved at the start but I'd like to think that everyone got on fine by the end. I think its acutally a good thing that my 'worlds' are crossing over, and my overseas life is making its way into my Australian.<br />The trip home was good. Sydney was nothing but work, but Melbourne was quite relaxing for a 5 day trip. Managed to get some beach time at Sorrento, ate at my favorites places, saw some art and even got to see<a href="http://evolkween.blogspot.com/"> Evol </a>on my travels.<br />I also happened to be home for the fires. I still can't quite believe it. Its been so painful hearing about how much people have lost. Everyone seems to know at least one person who was affected directly by them. Some friends of mine have absolute horror stories about them. One in particular just sold her house in one of the towns that got completely burnt down. She was lucky to escape them but sadly everyone in her street died. Every single person that lived on that street died trying to save their house. She said that out in those rural parts of Victoria you are taught to stay and defend your home, which they all did. To the end.<br />And now I'm back and Australia seems like its a world away. I want this year to be a memorable one. I've realised that I'm not going to be here forever and I need to make the most of my time. I want to create things, I want to succeed at my job, I want my beloved to be with me, but above all else I want to enjoy myself and know that its okay to take some time off and just have fun here. I don't have to do anything ground breaking but I do have to enjoy myself a bit more and not let work take over again.<br />Rant over.<br /></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-80426588768896843782008-11-30T23:13:00.003-05:002008-11-30T23:17:36.737-05:00I am SO on trend (with maybe just a little help from Steven)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRzDQAg_-IWLS5y-LJryJMVYnysuGp9um1NRbzvPlMQZrahKzjUJrtiSimh0IygXi4nnTxUnYzLhM-dFzMsL2-KdwWXztKuRBIY08L5pwWXn1KnuGHX_oBv9-x-0QClf5yB7zc5Q/s1600-h/2015_001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274670176444826802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 309px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRzDQAg_-IWLS5y-LJryJMVYnysuGp9um1NRbzvPlMQZrahKzjUJrtiSimh0IygXi4nnTxUnYzLhM-dFzMsL2-KdwWXztKuRBIY08L5pwWXn1KnuGHX_oBv9-x-0QClf5yB7zc5Q/s400/2015_001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">My Halloween costume was spotted in the months Italian Vogue</span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-75767365458208460152008-11-05T23:46:00.002-05:002008-11-05T23:49:47.495-05:00Nothing says Christmas........... <span style="font-family:arial;">like Twisted Sister's Broadway spectacular "A Twisted Christmas" I think I'm going to have to take the missus...</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265402099529701442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKXZWj6g31_0JMX_3aWDEt4bnyuScbzMMkHPUqYc-_M-i92NaYJ2YaejaUIO2vmKO3TaqmV6tqddZMo-lG6bt6blD-z2FEgQ2kn9dk10BnOZ-7Fdcu0eREhb1myvgf4Hem3swTMw/s320/twisted_sister_-_A.jpg" border="0" />euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-55920713999743626322008-11-02T14:31:00.005-05:002008-11-02T16:57:27.964-05:00Halloween Numero UnoWell, its officially over. My first proper (because the lame ass kids who don't dress up, and still try to scam you out of candy back in Oz don't count) Halloween took place over the weekend (although the day itself was on Friday, many parties actually took place on Saturday) and it was as cheesy and more fun than I anticipated. Spent Halloween day waiting for trick or treaters and being prepped on the candy giving/receiving protocol (n.b put the bowl of candy out in the morning. Anyone is allowed to take candy, including adults, at any time of the day. Someone only explained this to me after I went on a 5 minute tirade when a woman came in, took a candy without asking OR saying thanks. Apparently manners are not required for this strangest of holidays...) There were some absolute cuties in store and I'll have to post the photos of them, and when I was on my way home, I stumbled across the Halloween parade in Brooklyn and got to watch that. The party that I was to attend actually took place last night. Great fun. Lots of funny costumes (slutty Colonel Sanders being one of the favorites) and lots of ridiculous ones. I had the fabulous compliment from someone saying my costume looked like a McQueen Couture dress ("Why this old thing!") I have to say I still don't quite understand this tradition. It seems to just be an excuse for girls to dress up like sluts (I've never needed an excuse) for men to dress up like women and for me to eat a disgusting amount of candy all in the name of tradition.<br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264182133367234690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vP5QA0Wdojutkv1qeZP82l97kO3IynClrYyIfg9ddAGqxBCDjj4yJSrkwxKFvJYINCCUEH7pFJh73Zzk85W0b22z6EyKAwMat5c6i5LOvSGN6yB8RLOOMfh4oPocHuzo6PG1kA/s320/n34600723_31670229_8517.jpg" border="0" />euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-29855128091317115112008-10-27T22:18:00.006-04:002008-10-27T22:55:50.550-04:00and now its Fall....<div><span style="font-family:arial;">Wow, has it really been 3 months since I've blogged? Where has the time gone? I was just reading <a href="http://www.evolkween.blogspot.com/">evol's</a> blog and read how long it was since he blogged, checked mine, and realised how long its been.</span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Most of you know whats been going on in my life in the last few months or thereabouts. Went back home for the first time in nearly 3 years and caught up with my beloved evol and co. Saw my sister get married to a man who I only met for the first time the day before the wedding. Thank goodness he is a sweetheart, otherwise there would have been a few issues.....</span><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLsjIG4NLVPThCDeLSt8fymzj3Da3evo_V4DHF0fYepUtrPD9AE4qG7dlOzrcC0-wHgqZS2AJALBBOcIn15w6En0aavEZMGcqi41moEbQx5a8qQlja3J3aj36kXZ_WAJVgxfTwg/s1600-h/P9141177.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262025926202342066" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLsjIG4NLVPThCDeLSt8fymzj3Da3evo_V4DHF0fYepUtrPD9AE4qG7dlOzrcC0-wHgqZS2AJALBBOcIn15w6En0aavEZMGcqi41moEbQx5a8qQlja3J3aj36kXZ_WAJVgxfTwg/s320/P9141177.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Its funny, I thought I would go back and find that so much had changed and I'd missed out on so much, but to tell you the truth, not much had changed.... really. I guess because so much had happened in my life in 3 years, I thought the whole world was moving at that pace. It was actually comforting to know it wasn't and that it was okay for me to still be away and not be missing a huge chunk of life back in Oz. </span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">I had a birthday where I turned the ripe old age of 26. Peter semi surprised me for my birthday. It was supposed to be a complete surprise but I may have thrown a bit of a tantrum that I was going to be on my own and he decided to tell me because there may have been tears. It turned out to be amazing. Had a great <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mon_Oncle">Mon Oncle</a> inspired party</span></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFT5gsZo7tv7p78MPAXOs34zTJnwUk9L6jVS7oudZvtvejzZcTfEQSR6NETICiAo_ZA8xYhcQiLhTXSy3Cgc1ymPko1waQpcWiUfTiVzfFgYmCiitFAyj7Y9DCrViCvgEdtQovA/s1600-h/SE-invite2-flat.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262027564905314466" style="WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFT5gsZo7tv7p78MPAXOs34zTJnwUk9L6jVS7oudZvtvejzZcTfEQSR6NETICiAo_ZA8xYhcQiLhTXSy3Cgc1ymPko1waQpcWiUfTiVzfFgYmCiitFAyj7Y9DCrViCvgEdtQovA/s320/SE-invite2-flat.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">where everyone got frocked up</span></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc3letQQjg-6oBjJes_gguL-1ryCeM_pZEPY2JjIh3vfIhWxPD_Im6MFwyrFHwyuBdtPXmehZD1tz_-soOLlpiykEmhv1faegG00WLIx0VRbHkmkQAXL_QSoekuDYMk7lWR6fXsw/s1600-h/PA121128.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262028436716769554" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc3letQQjg-6oBjJes_gguL-1ryCeM_pZEPY2JjIh3vfIhWxPD_Im6MFwyrFHwyuBdtPXmehZD1tz_-soOLlpiykEmhv1faegG00WLIx0VRbHkmkQAXL_QSoekuDYMk7lWR6fXsw/s320/PA121128.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>and got to meet my beloved. </div><div></div><div>And now we're here. Work is back to all consuming/damanding (I'd make the most wonderful cult leader. They can do no wrong in my eyes) and I am generally always thinking about work in one form or another. I've been looking at different types of therapies to force me to switch my mind off lately, namely Tai Chi and Restorative yoga. A friend is actually offering to teach me a private yoga class so I think that might have made my mind up for me. </div><div></div><div>Good news on the Peter front. He's acutally been looking at visa application forms and recuitment companies that specialise in E3 visas, without any prompting. We had a really honest conversation about it a couple of weeks ago where he told me that he was really scared about applying because if all the big what if's 'What if I apply and don't get it? What if I can't get a job? What if I can only get a crappy job?' and that it seemed so daunting to even start applying, but the more he looks into it, the more he's starting to realise its not as scary as he thought it was going to be. I'm hoping against hope that he'll be here by April next year....</div><div></div><div>So, everytime I make a big promise to get right back into blogging, I go on another hiatus. Maybe I'm putting too much pressure on myself to blog so frequently, and then end up quitting before I've even begun. A friend commented last night that I should do some writing (which I did actually do for a <a href="http://www.gymclassmagazine.com/">magazine</a> that will be coming out very soon. I'm super excited about that) and its something I really do have a secret (not anymore!) passion for.</div><div>I guess what I'm trying to say is I'd love you to stay around. I can't promise I'll write every day or week, but I'm going to try and be better, I promise!</div>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-70107839624652412312008-07-27T22:49:00.003-04:002008-07-27T22:51:53.327-04:00street find<span style="font-family:arial;">Coming home tonight and found this screen print the street. Nice one....</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227891909008857074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijPC6CGb5FnIdZoAzRrwdwndLIPYQyug-xUgZ5SpYe3htYWILBr4EJC1P1CbOmDN06_Yz-X0W7Tvf1zTTDw7nQVl26qwMxs_TLzkqDkyoEEM-6hdngitJ-DkMIPNPbllP1KrJogA/s400/bird.jpg" border="0" />euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-21342328090201480492008-07-24T11:43:00.002-04:002008-07-24T11:49:49.901-04:00Surrounding myself with greatness<span style="font-family:arial;">A very dear friend of mine, Edwina White who happens to be one of the most talented illustrators I have come across has landed the cover of the New York Times style magazine today. Check out her piece <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/24/fashion/24PLOT.html">here.....</a></span>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-91116478689174988202008-07-17T23:36:00.004-04:002008-07-18T00:36:08.030-04:00ode to a princess<span style="font-family:arial;">I got some heartbreaking news from home. My mum called me tonight to tell me my dog passed away. My beloved Toy Poodle that has been a more valued family member than yours truly for the last 18 years. </span><br /><div><div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Brandy (I was 7 and she was an apricot colour, cut me some slack on the name!) lived a great life. Never ate dog food a single day in her life. Got a cooked meal twice a day. Had the best seat in the lounge room. Had an extensive wardrobe (including a doggie drizabone coat. She hated getting wet as her curls would frizz) and most definitely always got what she wanted. She was the head of our household for as long as I can remember.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">In the last 3 years of her long life, Brandy's health started to deteriorate. First came the hip dysplasia, then cataracts, then she lost her hearing. After she lost most of her senses, she'd spend weeks getting to know the layout with the house just by repetitive walking, only to have mum decide to rearrange the furniture, then spend the next 2 weeks running into things until she knew the layout again. Bless her.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">In the last few months Brandy spent most of her days sleeping, not really doing much, just curled up in her little bed. She was mum's best friend and mum would often carry Brandy (basket and all) around with her while she was in the garden so Brandy would be forced into getting some fresh air and mum would have company. Yesterday morning mum got up and noticed Brandy looking a lot worse than she had the night before. A lot more fraile and wouldn't open her eyes. Mum picked her up to take her outside to go to the bathroom and she couldn't hold up her own weight. She couldn't even support her own little head. She took her back inside and tried to give her some water but Brandy wouldn't swallow. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Mum made the call to the vet. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">The vet, who has looked after my little Brandy (or as my dad would call her in his Asian accent 'Blandy') said that it was his day off the next day but he would come in so mum could bring Brandy in to be put down. This morning mum got up to find her still breathing but not moving. She took her to the vet where they washed and blow dried her sweet little curls. Mum then took her home and nursed her for 2 hours before she died in her arms. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">Oh Brandy, you will always be with me xxx</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224207949868269442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6IWwHo_EMIiUs2MQlW4m02VOh49fTX94PXvQywkVO5wKyzd7YLIHBLtoOgzeGicb4PW47zrNTw9VzIikd2iQfHAJ7apqXFdSmwLsecBNGER9SAOHcMucb5ezat1DwBpdc_MT8Q/s320/brandy2.jpg" border="0" /></span></div></div></div>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-86078629040036618082008-07-10T22:51:00.002-04:002008-07-10T22:52:36.802-04:00I've got one word to say to you bloggers....<span style="font-family:arial;">like, oh my God, you should totally look at meeeeeee......</span><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kduo9j_UwWc&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kduo9j_UwWc&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-22632386412876496052008-07-06T21:29:00.002-04:002008-07-06T21:40:15.385-04:00Heaven Knows I'm Miserable NowAfter reading the latest meme posted by <a href="http://www.evolkween.blogspot.com/">evol</a> and <a href="http://www.wordage.wordpress.com/">wordage</a>, I decided to put my ipod on shuffle and let the music Gods decide my fate.....<br /><br />What does next year have in store for me? Rock On (David Essex)<br />What’s my love life like? Lets Not Wrestle Mt. Heart Attack (Liars)<br />What do I say when life gets hard? I Can’t Make It on Time (The Ramones)<br />What do I think of on waking up? Build Me Up Buttercup (The Foundations)<br />What song will I dance to at my wedding? Hungry Like The Wolf (Duran Duran)<br />What do I want as a career? Sulk (Radiohead)<br />My favorite saying? I Just Want To Have Something To Do (The Ramones)<br />Favorite place? Quiescent Return (Sir Richard Bishop)<br />What do I think of my parents? Simon Says (Fruitgum Company)<br />What’s my porn star name? If I was your Girlfriend (Prince)<br />Where would I go on a first date? L’Anomour (Serge Gainsbourg)<br />Drug of choice? Bangers and Mash (Radiohead)<br />Describe myself. Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now (The Smiths)<br />What is the thing I like doing most? Do you Love Me? (The Contours)<br />What is my state of mind like at the moment? Fashion (David Bowie)<br />How will I die? Right Now and Not Later (The Shangri-Las)<br /><br />I love the fact my drug of choice is Bangers and Mash.euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-64321858860715096092008-07-03T23:09:00.003-04:002008-07-03T23:18:19.968-04:00Euro live!<span style="font-family:arial;">While my dear friend Paul was here, we did many silly things to amuse ourselves in the city. As many of you are aware, I will do almost anything for a laugh (I'm all about making Peter laugh til he pees a little) While shopping on 5th, Paul discovered the hot 'Sales Models' (my flatmate works for them and she told me they actually hire their staff from a modelling agency) working (it) at Abercrombie and Fitch. Here's a snippet of me ogling said men....</span><br /><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=55430" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=d45893e4db&photo_id=2564335012"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=55430"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=55430" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=d45893e4db&photo_id=2564335012" height="300" width="400"></embed></object>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-89964183336967537812008-07-02T18:58:00.005-04:002008-07-02T19:46:10.462-04:00Get a cuppa, cause its a bigg'un<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Right, after a few too many 'think you're too good for blogging huh?' comments, its time to put my sarcastic slant on global (& by global, I mean my own universe. Thats what everyone revolves around, right?) issues.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I can't believe its been so long since I've blogged. NY life (or rather, work) has taken O.V.E.R, and I'm feeling a need to vent to y'all. So, as I sit on a bench in front of my store, literally waiting for floor wax to dry, I thought I would catch up.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The last couple of months have been filled with visitors. Tom from London, (As I mentioned in a previous post) Paul from Oz, Tristan from Oz, my beloved from London, Matt from Ireland is coming over in a month, the Designers from Oz are going to be here on Saturday (eeeek!!!) Leanne is coming from London in 2 weeks and I will be making a 4 day trip back to London at the beginning of August. It seems like the lure of a free place to stay in NYC is what gets people to come visit me! Its been hectic but great fun. Having Paul visit was wonderful. I haven't seen him since I left and I've changed a lot (long term boyfriend (that isn't a gay man) livin' in NYC, losing 60 pounds since we last saw each other) and it was great to catch up and have a laugh with one of my original gay posse. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Tristan was hilarious. He works in one of the Sydney stores and is almost too OTT for NYC, let alone Sydney. One of my favorite moments was Tristan swanning downstairs (Tristan by the way is a 6 foot 5 red head bean pole) off to a club opening in a neon yellow spandex tux he made himself. He looked like a giant highlighter...... and I thought it was fabulous. I have a weakness for waif thin men. I know its not healthy, but I find it so beautiful and Tristan looked stunning. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The visit from beloved was as expected. Wonderful and heartbreaking. I'm not in the mood to be all sad about it though so I'll just give you the high highlights. I managed to take off 7 of the 10 days he was here and managed to get away for a few days which we haven't done since December. We did the trek to the Hamptons on what was the first of the hot hot hot Summer weekends. It was also our one year anniversary (awwww) We had such a wonderful time in Montauk (the most Eastern edge of Long Island) although it really did feel like I was n the Upper West Side, just on the beach. Everyone was talking about their yachts and was wearing boat shoes with no socks (urgh) but all in all it was a good time. Oh by the way, I gave him a Tag watch and he cried and said that no one had ever given him something so special.It felt so nice that I could do that for him. That being said, I got a pretty cool gift myself. He gave me a helicopter ride over NYC...... and only told me 10 seconds before we had to get on the helicopter! What I love is that he knew I would love it, and I wanted him with me (which he did) even though he has a big fear of flying. Bless him. He was surprisingly pretty good on the flight. It was a lot smoother than I thought (except for the sharp turn which had us at a right angle with the Hudson River. I may or may not have peed in my pants a little) Most of our time in Montauk was spent walking along the beach or chillin' in the pool or eating yummy seafood. One of the high points would have been gong to the Memory Motel (of Rolling Stones fame) to have a drink, to say we had a drink there and found ourselves in the middle of a biker convention in what is known to be the biggest heroin bar in NYC (It gets raided once a week) The bikers took a shine to us (one even sniffed me hello once Peter was out of sight, proclaiming "I just knew you ere gonna smell good") The wife of the biker president (and our new BFF) decided that we needed to have pictures of us on a bike, so she threw us onto her husband bike where Peter and I struggled to keep our feet on the ground. Looking more like 2 kids on a cheap ride in front of a grocery store, than bikers, it still became one of my favorite photos of the trip.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It was a pretty great visit, and we even got a bonus day when Peter's flight got cancelled and he had to fly out the next day. We spent the extra day pottering round the city, going for a cruise on the Hudson and having a nice dinner in the Meatpacking district. I can't wait to see his cute little face in a month. Its made me more determined than ever to get him here asap.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">And now its back to work work work. I'm enjoying it don't get me wrong but it is all consuming and demands a lot of time (I worked 20 hours overtime this week. Blegh) but I guess it comes with the title. There are some perks though. I got a ticket to the Louise Bourgeois opening at the Guggenheim, and I'm currently organising my first trunk show at Bergdorfs (stressful, but also exciting) I know though that I need to step back and know that its okay to not be doing work every single day. Its had when you work for a company that you love, for people who you call you friends. You want to do the best for them, but it ultimately means sacrificing your goals, to achieve theirs. Wow, I didn't expect this blog to turn into a work one (see, it infiltrates everything!)</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Anyway bloggers, I've missed you. Its good to be back.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Oh by the way, I saw Richard Gere, Naomi Watts having lunch with Kirsten Dunst AND......... Johnny Depp last week. God, I love NYC.</span></div>euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36732677.post-55802449683874848482008-04-30T00:08:00.002-04:002008-04-30T00:22:38.720-04:00I can't believe I am so close to being a somebody<span style="font-family:arial;">So tonight I had the Artists Space benefit dinner. We sponsored the event (partially) so I got a couple freebie tickets. After an embarassingly early start to the evening (we were literally the first ones there. Eww!) I had my moment in the sun as I noticed a photographer snapping away at me (or to be more specific, my outfit and my armload of bangles) I looked past the camera to see it was <a href="http://www.lookonline.com/billcunningham.html">Bill Cunningham</a>, one of the most influential people on the NY fashion scene. Bill is a sweet 70 year old man who knows whats hot and where to find it, before you do. He also looks like a 70 year old tourist from Florida on a trip to Niagra Falls (inclusive of infamous blue wool vest) He took my name and we had a friendly exchange (me - "You look like you're having fun" Bill - "How could I not, I'm getting paid to come to fancy parties and take photos of interesting people" me - "hahahahaha") and he continued on his way, taking a shot of a man with an outrageous fedora and a Versace cravat. Oh Bill, if only you knew you made my day.....</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194888908842677858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHVqPNwxDlPT7PE60_G_-SspIrL4hsva0fkdIJ5GwT-BXdERIdsm51drh6v4yREpsqO7e_D-s5f_-6o5syHFEO-wqzRdjCApa5qPVcslglx1Is2y1NsYBxBrQSWqqh8Ax7Io31XA/s320/DSC01519.JPG" border="0" />euro trashhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00895032593882436353noreply@blogger.com6