Bedroom Advice for Young Ladies – Top Five Handy Hints for Better Bedroom Experiences.

Hint #5: Size Does Matter.

I wish somebody had given me this sage advice when I bought my first ‘grown up’ bed 7 years ago, but size does matter.

(What did you think I was going to be talking about in this post? Clearly, the title could be about nothing other than interior decorating. Minds out of gutters, people…)

You see, should you want to be sharing your bed with a Someone, a Someone who is potentially rather tall, you might want to consider splashing out and going for the queen size, as opposed to double, option. Or be totally extravagant and go for a king.

Either way, remember spooning all night is delightful in the realms of imagination, but, in reality, it’s pretty annoying. And nothing kills passion like waking up cranky.

My key problem with my bed is that it has a foot on it – see picture. Whilst my bed looks lovely, like something that a Scandinavian lady-of-the-manor would indulge in romantic trysts on, it means that my Someone, who is a rather tall fellow, cannot lie straight in my bed. Instead, he lies diagonally across it, leaving me with two triangles of mattress with which to rest my weary bones. Which makes for lots of squishing, and a cranky Peggy first thing in the morning.



So, the moral to the story is, if you are at all interested in sharing a bed with a Someone, be considerate of their size. Opt for the next size up, or at least, pick a double bed frame without a foot, so that the Someone’s feet can poke over their edge till their heart’s content.


Hint #4: A Restful Colour Palette for a Good Night’s Sleep.

Your bedroom is for sleeping. Sleeping is very important. Studies vary in their recommendations, but I’ll tell you this for free – a bad night’s sleep is sure to mess up your day.

Colour, lots of it, is fabulous, and the rest of my home, and indeed most spaces I inhabit, are a veritable rainbow. But, the one place I make an exception is the bedroom. Just as certain fast food restaurants (*cough* MacDonald’s *cough* *cough*) use bright and clashing colours to stimulate appetites and encourage you to EAT THEN LEAVE, choosing restful colors, preferably from the same colour family or an analogous grouping, is a simple way to make sure that your bedroom visually cues yourself into being calm, rested, and serene. Even if you’re the latte-chugging-hurry-sick-mobile-phone-irradiated self you are during your business hours (*cough* Me! *cough* *cough*), a room that’s got a monochromatic scheme, or a subtle range of colours, is going to have some sort of a calming effect. Think shades of blue with greens, a mix of creams and wood tones, or even the classic white on white. All are excellent bedroom choices for a young lady.



Total mastery of the bedroom colour scheme isn’t easy to do in a rental property, or in other situations where you can’t paint. But, all is not lost.

One way around this is to go with whatever colour your walls happen to be, and roll with that as the theme. Luckily, the last three rooms I’ve had have been white or off white, which has meant that I’ve built up a collection of bedroom furnishings and furniture around a neutrals/white/black/wood palette.

Also, don’t underestimate the power of soft furnishings – soft in texture, but strong on impact, if used correctly. A fugly chair can quickly be turned into something much more attractive by the artful draping of a throw or two in a chosen colour – and the textural interest a throw provides can break up the potential monotony of monochrome. You can also choose to match YOURSELF to the monochromatic scheme, but I think that’s crossing the border between restful/serene, and padded walls. But everybody’s line is different…


Hint #3: Be Flexible.

As mentioned above, I’m renting, and anticipate being a renter for quite some time. Which means, regrettably, moving quite a lot more than I would like.

Moving a lot necessitates a high degree of flexibility in the bedroom. When selecting bedroom furniture, it’s imperative that it’s flexible in two ways: firstly, it’s easy to transport – it comes apart, or is lightweight, or, at very least, has ample gripping points for the brothers, dads, and friends enlisted to the task of moving to grab onto.

Secondly, you want, as far as possible, any furniture you buy to be up to radical multi-tasking, as, in the process of changing house, your room size and layout is likely to change radically as well. One of the things I loathed about working in furniture stores as an undergrad was that the ranges were targeted very specifically towards certain rooms, and to having a single use. To me, this is a really inefficient way of thinking about placing furniture in a space

My bed, with all its faults as outlined above, is fantastically flexible – it comes apart and can be put back together in ten minutes, and none of its component parts weigh more than five kilos. It can be stored virtually flat (thanks IKEA!). Because it’s a frame and mattress, rather then an ensemble, it’s also a multi tasker, in that the under bed space can be used for storage. This almost, but not quite, makes up for its other shortcomings.



Another piece of flexible bedroom furniture is my great grandfather’s fold out desk. Aside from being a lovely thing to have, with its ink stains and faint smell of pipe tobacco, it’s a truly flexible marvel.




Point A: the desk can be lowered or raised as needed, opening up a compact space when the desk it not in use. Point B: It’s actually quite roomy – and lockable – and is thus a perfect repository for various important documents and other secret things. Finally, Point C: Although it now makes its home in my bedroom, it is not bedroom specific – it’s flexible enough to be used, in other future houses, as a telephone table in an entrance way, as a desk in a study, a funky book display in a lounge room, or even as a hutch to store kitchen palaver. With flexible pieces, you are only limited by your imagination (and there I go, lapsing back into furniture salesgirl mode…)

Hint # 2: Put That Thing Back Where it Came From.

There is nothing worse than trying to relax when you are surrounded by a sea of moving bedroom debris. Hence, my very simple piece of advice: put things back where they came from.


As my pics suggest, you don’t necessarily have to put the things back neatly – they just have to go back. In their place. Leaving the important surfaces (bed, desk, reading chair) sans clutter.



So, you get your favorite yellow cardigan out to wear with your new skirt. It doesn’t work.

What do you do?

You put it back where it came from, on the hanger, in the wardrobe.

Simple.

Hint #1: You’ve Got The Love.

All of this is sounding a little didactic, but, at the end of the day, this is your room, so it should be personal – it should reflect, probably more than any other space in your home, your loves and your passions. And not in the l’amore, l’amore sense, but in the sense of who and what really matters to you, the people and things you want with you when you are dreaming.

Boys Watch the Girls While the Girls Watch the Boys Who Watch the Girls Go By…

It’s occurred to me, looking through the archives of this blog, that there’s an awful lot about the ladies – but almost nothing at all about the gentlemen - a sore oversight on my part, which I will seek to redress in this here post.

Perhaps one of the reasons why I haven’t written much this year about men’s style is that I always thought that men’s style was much more straightforward than women’s. On account of the absence of breasts, hips and thighs, I’ve always held a firm belief that men have a much easier time dressing themselves – i.e., put on a pair of decent jeans, a button down, and a jacket, and you’re ready to rock the kazbar.

However, recent and close observation of the males in my life has lead me to conclude that men can be just as fabulous, if not more so, than us ladies. (Recently there has also been a lot of close – cough- ‘observation’ - of males who are not in my life, more’s the pity, at gigs and on sidewalks, but that’s a homily for another time).

I think we don’t notice male style dilemmas as they are played out on a more subtle level than female ones. As mentioned above, the fact that there are simply less shapes and styles of clothes for men to choose from means that there’s going to be less plurality in male dressing – it’s hard to break away from the pants and shirts model when it’s socially unacceptable to wear anything else. However, within, and perhaps because of, these confines, there are some spectacularly stylish men whom I feel it is my duty to valorise on this humble blog.

I ought to start with the inspiration for this post. On Saturday, Rosie Bon Jovie and I had the immense privilege and pleasure of listening to a brilliant indie-rock-folk band, The 45, at Ainslie Hall. The lead singer of said band, apart from having a voice like Nick Cave and the lyrical talents of Geoff Buckly, was a brilliantly stylish man, a light on the hill to which all of you gentlemen out there should aspire. Aside from a brilliantly scuffed pair of workboots and authentically worn-in jeans, this young rocker had perfected the waistcoat-shirt-tie-hat combo. This is territory where many have strayed and failed spectacularly, particularly in the first year of an arts degree at university. Proving that old fashion maxim about wearing your clothes rather than letting them wear you, this muso demonstrated that what I had once dismissed as wankwear can, and is, fabulously stylish when it’s done with a sense of integrity and reality – with a sense of owning the clothes rather than the clothes owning you.

My fabulously stylish friends, Jordan Hawthorne and Brody Leon, demonstrate, in their different approaches to style, that there are many ways for men to be fabulous on a tighter than tight shoestring budget. Jordan Hawthorne’s approach is to focus on quality accessories. Although Jordan looks similar whenever I see him, he always looks good, on account of having a capsule wardrobe of jeans and a few shirts coupled with brilliant accessories. Of note are his choice in glasses frames – which are always just noticeable enough to make you comment, but not so outrageous as to make him a laughing stock – and his signature satchel. I covet this satchel, not only for its innate beauty and practicality, but because of its quality and the feeling that it gives of being timeless. Which makes sense, given that Jordan picked up this particular piece of fabulousness in the middle east, during a year overseas. Again, like the abovementioned rocker, Jordan’s style works because, in addition to being well thought out and classically well accessorised, it is all his own, and speaks to his interests and his experiences.

In contrast to Jordan Hawthorne’s understated style, Brody Leon encapsulates all that is good about flamboyant-old school-vintage-student-chic. His endless and cheerful parade of tweed jackets always brighten the ANU campus. Never one to shy away from more flamboyant vintage numbers, Brody has numerous fabulous pieces, the highlight of which is his tuxedo jacket with tails – an authentic twenties number, I believe, and a piece which those not endowed with natural style would be swamped by. I have also heard tell that Brody Leon has come into possession of a particular pair of red Cuban heels…having not seen them with my own eyes I cannot pass judgement, but I’m sure they are as stylish as everything else in Brody’s wardrobe.

There are so many other stylish men that I know, I could go on for ages. I haven’t touched on Jimmy Henry’s board short collection, or Pete Morrisey’s burgundy velvet 70s blazer, or Hugo Kirkham’s leather jacket. If I had to draw a common thread that unites all these fabulously stylish men together, however, it would be their sense of stylistic integrity – of staying true to what they know is fabulous. Something which, in spite of my earlier reticence, is worth an honourable mention on this blog.

A Manifesto for Recessionistas: Be A Gatherer, Not A Hunter.

I think it’s only appropriate, with the endless talk of the GFC (Global Financial Crisis) and its impact on the garment industry, to devote a series of entries to the phenomenon of the Recessionista. Recessionista, of course, being a play on the term Fashionista – ie when you plonk a Fashionista in the middle of a recession you get a hybrid species of thrifty stylist – a Recessionista.

I have a confession to make. I’ve been a Recessionista all my styling life. Being a student for - well, forever, having gone straight from high school to university and now staying on for a PhD – means that I’ve never been able to dress without one eye on some fairly tight budgetary constraints. I viewed these constraints with contempt in my first three years at university – but in my third year, I began to see them as an advantage. Working within one’s means, rather than spending beyond them, can yield even more fabulous fashion results than a platinum AMEX card and a sugar daddy.

The fashion world has cottoned on to the need for thrift in the shadow of the GFC. Articles in various fashion rags spruk the benefits of ‘investment dressing’, usually with a focus on spending money on the basics and whittling down one’s wardrobe to an (ahem) ‘austere’ black and grey palette, in the simplest of shapes.

Whittling down and dispensing with fripperies has its merits. However, now is not the time for self expression and creativity to be the metaphorical babies thrown out with the bathwater. In fact, let these hard economic times flex your creativity and fabulousness, which, in times of plenty, can atrophy like a muscle choked by the fat of easy available credit and the fiscal licence to shop and dress impudently.

Here, from me to you, is the first of my top tips for being the ultimate Recessionista, inspired by years of fashion on a budget. Use them wisely, and stay fabulous, even when everyone around you is clamouring for the demure and the drab.

Be A Gatherer, Not A Hunter: as much as biological essentialism appals me as a sociologist, it’s possibly an apt metaphor for the way that a Recessionista needs to go about building her wardrobe. Women, for whatever reason, tend to have innate ‘gathering’ skills – and there is never a better time than a recession to use them.

Being a fashion gatherer means revolutionising the way that you shop. Let me tell you a tale of two friends, Gatherer Gertrude and Hunter Hermionie:

Gatherer Gertrude has a hot date at Sage on the weekend with Gorgeous Gareth. She’s a bit nervous – isn’t everybody before a date? – but refuses to run out to The Canberra Centre as soon as Gorgeous Gareth has made the reservation. In fact, it’s her off pay week, and she’s got $200 to last till next Thursday after she’s put petrol in the car. Even if work wasn’t so frantic, a shopping spree would still be out of the question. Instead, she takes a look in her wardrobe (and under her bed, and in the laundry hamper, and at the bottom of the pile of stuff that the cat was making a nest on…) to see what she’s got put aside for such an occasion. Sure enough, there’s a cournicopia of dresses, skirt and tops to choose from, because Gatherer Gertrude picks up bits and pieces she likes as she sees them and when she can afford them. Her friend, Hunter Hermionie, thinks it’s foolish for Gatherer Gertrude to ‘fritter away’ her meagre salary on whimsies she spies at market stalls and in kooky little boutiques - but more about Hunter Hermionie later. Gatherer Gertrude finds – wedged behind the column heater, of all places - a cute beaded top that she bought during a Sunday wander along Lonsdale Street last month. Silk, with a cute bow detail, she had no idea what she would wear it to at the time but she liked it and it was on special so why not buy it?. The bead detail lends itself to a more sedate pairing on the bottom half – in comes that pleated Country Road skirt she bought at a sample sale in first year. It’s a strange colour – a dull apple green – but it was forty dollars at the time and she liked it, so she’d bought it and been surprised at how much she’d worn it in the years since. Throwing on a belt she’d picked up at the post clearance sales – wide, black patent – and puling the whole thing together with her mum’s old Glomesh clutch, all that remained was for her to wander around the Gorman house markets on Saturday morning, picking up a fabulous pair of earings which offset the green of the skirt nicely. After lunching with Mummykins in Manuka, Gatherer Gertrude walked past Lyn & Barrett and happened to notice that Pleasure State was on sale – because she hadn’t had to rush out and buy a whole new outfit, she could justify putting that bargain lacy bra and pants set on her credit card – she could have $75 hanging over her head this month. As the evening rolled around, Gatherer Gertrude was feeling sexy and fabulous from the skin out. Gorgeous Gareth noticed she was glowing. Gatherer Gerturde was flattered when several heads – male and female – turned as she sasheyed through the restaurant to their table. Gatherer Gerturde didn’t like to blow her own horn, but she had to admit, she could understand why – she looked pretty damned foxy, shining like a star amoungst all the staid black cocktail dresses and skinny jean/glittery top combos other clotheshorses were wearing. And she’d done it without too much hassle and debt. She felt fantastic the whole night, her good mood rubbing off on Gorgeous Gareth. Without getting MA 15+ on you, they had the perfect ending to the perfect evening, and Gorgeous Gareth most certainly appreciated Gatherer Gertrude’s special purchases.

Hunter Hermione, unlike her dear friend Gatherer Gertrude, doesn’t like to spend money on clothes when there’s no clear purpose. Hunter Hermione doesn’t understand how Gatherer Gertrude can throw so much money away on clothes – it seems like Gatherer Gertrude buys something every other week! Anyway, Hunky Hank has asked Hunter Hermione out to Ottoman on Friday night. Hunky Hank calls to confirm this on Monday. Hunter Hermione checks her bank balance as soon as Hunky Hank has hung up – as it’s off pay week, she’s only got $200 left after she’s put petrol in the car for the week. Unfortunately, there’s nothing she feels really excited about wearing in her functional black-and-gray wardrobe – nothing that would do for such an expensive night out at any rate. Steeling her resolve, Hunter Hermione decides that this is a job for her credit card. This was okay. She’s normally so restrained, she thinks that she will be able to justify putting a new frock and maybe some shoes on her Visa. Work was a bitch that week so Hunter Hermione didn’t have a chance to get a look in at the shops till her lunch break on Thursday. Armed with her credit card, she hits The Canberra Centre running on Thursday lunchtime. Hungry, tired and with sore feet, she does scans of all the stores that she normally likes. She sees a sensible black frock, nothing special but still nice enough, in the window of Saba but it’s $320. More than she wants to spend, she’d have to Visa it…time being limited, she power walks to DJ’s and is underwhelmed there too. Everything is out of budget, and the one dress she did like was not available in her size, and wouldn’t be coming in again until the following week. The sands of her lunch hour rapidly dwindling through the hourglass, Hunter Hermione hightails it back to Saba, throws the black frock on over her work blouse and skirt – yep, zip does up – and puts it on the visa. The sales assistant, noticing that Hunter Hermione is a little flustered and distracted, suggests she pick up a tangerine belt to brighten the otherwise plain dress. Hunter Hermione agrees, because there’s nothing else she has in her cupboard to brighten up the outfit – another hundred dollars later, she’s out of the store, with debt on her credit card and a sinking feeling that she’s going to look as bland as a bowl of mashed potato on Friday night. Friday night rolls around and Hunter Hermione feels as uninspiring as she looks. The dress is alright, but it’s a bit loose around the bust and she’s had to pad it out with chicken fillets. The belt, a pretty colour in its own right, is swamped by the overwhelming blackness of the outfit and looks just plain silly. Hunter Hermione only has two bags, subscribing to the ‘investment dressing’ view which states that you should buy less and of greater quality. Faced with the choice between a black Oroton tote and a Country Road hobo in beige, Hunter Hermione opts for the Oroton. The bag is too large for the outfit and swamps the dress, which just adds to Hunter Hermione’s feeling that this outfit isn’t working. But too late, Hunky Hank is knocking at the door and she has to go. Hunky Hank wonders what he’s done wrong – Hunter Hermione is in a filthy mood and he can’t work out why. At the restaurant, three other women are wearing the same dress as Hunter Hermione. She has never felt less fabulous in her whole life, and wishes that she hadn’t talked herself out of buying that red silk dress Gatherer Gertrude had spied for her during the post Christmas sales. Hunter Hermione’s mood doesn’t pick at all, and by desert, she’s wishing that she was at home, in her sensible Peter Alexander stripy Pyjamas, eating her weight in hazelnut gelato. Which is exactly where she is an hour after the desert course, Hunky Hank having decided that Hunter Hermione must be tired and needs to have a good night of undisturbed rest in her own bed.

Now this is all a teensy bit exaggerated – but I’m sure you get the picture. The budget conscious Recessionista should always take up a bargain where and when she sees it, if she can afford it. There’s a lot to be said for taking a ‘store cupboard’ approach to your wardrobe – gathering fashion’s nuts and berries and storing them away for a fruitless season. Like my grandmother who Vacoloa-ed summer peaches and apricots, I like to think of the little things that we buy when we see them – a pretty dress on sale, an antique broach – as building a bountiful wardrobe so that when we do have that special dinner, or that important presentation, or that spring wedding, to go to, we can pull together a stunning outfit with minimal effort and minimal cost. That way, when you’re asked where you got your fabulous outfit on the way to the ladies, you can utter the line that all true fashionistas aspire to utter:

‘oh this? I’ve had it for years, it’s fabulous isn’t it?’

Proving that, not only are you chic, but you are timeless and effortless as well. And that’s not half bad for something you found behind the column heater.