Monday, January 25, 2010

Portman Props

It's old but it's funny and I just rediscovered it.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

and now, for a pro

My grace period for wallowing in misery post move to Perth has expired (I allowed a very reasonable seven days) and so I now begin listing pros so as to induce a positive state of mind.

To begin with, we look at vintage shopping.

Finding a bargain in an inner city vintage store is equally as challenging and unlikely as finding the needle in the proverbial haystack. It's a case of the quick and the dead when thrifty fashionistas get pillaging as the weekend approaches, and the old biddies at Good Sammy's are catching onto the fact that they can charge high street prices and get away with it (well, it's still cheaper than buying designer off the rack).

Now, imagine a city one quarter of the size of Sydney, with the nation's highest number of millionaires per capita (and therefore a higher number of designer goods falling into the Salvos' hands) and nary a fashionista in sight (at least, not the full-time-fashion-is-my-life-and-I-spend-all-of-the-money-I-don't-have-on-it type).

More spoils + less competition = bargain-hunter heaven.

Today's find at a Salvos store in the outer suburb of Mundaring: a pale pink 90's crepe jacket with cut outs in the back for a trifling $16. Keen beans can find a list of op shops in Perth by suburb here.

Channel your Mother with a vintage reindeer jumper.

Channel 90s all-girl pop groups with a vintage sunflower hat.

Or channel ageing, coke snorting rock gods with vintage lame pants.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Perth, the city with no street signs

The upside of living in Sleepytown is that one has all the time in the world to drive round in circles, completely lost, because of the patent lack of street signs.

Efficiency is not a buzz word in Perth, and I have cried several times in frustration (my very zen, anger-management style of road rage) at that fact since I moved West-side from Sydney four days ago. I have also developed a nervous tick from listening to people talk (slow, and with much repetition, much repetition, much repetition) and the number of people wearing Crocs in earnest is giving me reflux.

But other than that, the glass is totally half full, like, spilling over.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

get smart

Just watched an old re-run of Get Smart in which Max was assisted in his crime-solving tom-foolery by a Chinese laundry-man. Except that the Chinese laundry-man was a caucasian actor speaking in a ridiculous Chinese accent with a tiny black moustache drawn on. Too good.