Have you seen X Men: First Class yet?
If not, do yourself a favor and go see it. Kitty Gilfeather and I treated ourselves to a late night showing this Friday and, although the only seats we could book were neck-straining close to the screen, it was two and a bit hours of fantastic.
I’ve adored the X-Men series, eagerly awaiting the release of each installment, and spent a large part of Saturday re-watching them as a necessary self indulgence (it was cold and blustery in the Capital, and I’d already went for an early morning walk and yoga session –indulgence justified). I was also a fan of the animated TV series as a child, and passed many an hour concentrating super hard in order to achieve Jean Grey levels of telepathy.
More than Jean or any of the other mutants, though, it was Professor X who fascinated me. Along with Misses Honey and Clavel, Professors Lupin and Dumbledore, and many inspiring real life ladies and gentlemen, Professor X and his School for Gifted Youngsters has shaped my attitudes towards education.
Indeed, sometimes I cast myself as the Professor X of my own imaginary School for Gifted Youngsters. And, in light of a couple of thousand words on teaching I am supposed to be writing (and am procrastinating against by writing this blog), I’ve been wondering what my own School for Gifted Youngsters would be like.
For starters, it would be open to all who wanted to learn, regardless of capability, because even the most capable student in the world won’t achieve anything if they don’t want to. There’s nothing worse or more soul destroying than a class of students who don’t want to be there.
Having said that, though, my school would be staffed by men and women with superpowers – not like Storm and Jean and Cyclops, but men and women with superpowers to make people want to learn. Powers of compassion, of understanding, and of love. And also by men and women who would work together as a team – to defeat Magnito, sure, but to also pick up the slack when things and people go pear shaped.
A very hairy and very shirtless Hugh Jackman would prowl the school grounds (I’m serious about this one).
And speaking of grounds, my School for Gifted Youngsters would, like Professor X’s, be housed in a building that inspires, surrounded by clean air and trees, to remind my Gifted Youngsters that there are things bigger and more permanent than themselves and their problems.
But also, my school would teach that their problems, hopes and fears, just like the mutations of Professor X’s students, could be used to make things better, for themselves and for everybody else. And that they alone were responsible for making this choice.
I’d also insist on ties for the boys, and neat blouses and skirts for the girls. But perhaps that’s an overindulgence of some megalomaniac tendencies???
Monday, June 6, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
The Power of Madonna
Down? Troubled? Approaching a milestone or an exciting new phase in your life?
I’ve got two words to say to you:
Fashion.
Montage.
Oh yes.
Inspired by film sequences where characters progress through a range of spectacular outfits to an empowering soundtrack, I decided it was time to go through my wardrobes – as in, take all clothes out, dump clothes bed, try clothes on, strut, place clothes back in wardrobes in neat and orderly fashion, select and recombine combinations of clothing for job interviews in upcoming weeks. All whilst listening to two rotations of Madonna’s The Immaculate Collection.
Some eerie synchronicity between my try-ons and The Immaculate Collection:
My favorite duck-egg-blue summer party frock…and Cherish, my favorite of Madonna’s summer-y love songs. Just had to twirl.
A suit jacket, bra, and scary stomach holding in bike shorts…and Express Yourself. I kid you not, I didn’t intentionally recreate The Madg’s costume for that clip. I was just checking the jacket still fitted – promise!
Orange smock top and loose skirt…and Papa Don’t Preach – frightening.
But, most portentously, the perfect job interview dress and cardigan… and Vogue!
I needed no further prompting that this was the outfit I was meant to wear, as I vogued to the music in my bedroom. And I reminded myself that I deserve the power of Madonna - we all deserve the power of Madonna – and the power of a great interview outfit.
I’ve got two words to say to you:
Fashion.
Montage.
Oh yes.
Inspired by film sequences where characters progress through a range of spectacular outfits to an empowering soundtrack, I decided it was time to go through my wardrobes – as in, take all clothes out, dump clothes bed, try clothes on, strut, place clothes back in wardrobes in neat and orderly fashion, select and recombine combinations of clothing for job interviews in upcoming weeks. All whilst listening to two rotations of Madonna’s The Immaculate Collection.
Some eerie synchronicity between my try-ons and The Immaculate Collection:
My favorite duck-egg-blue summer party frock…and Cherish, my favorite of Madonna’s summer-y love songs. Just had to twirl.
A suit jacket, bra, and scary stomach holding in bike shorts…and Express Yourself. I kid you not, I didn’t intentionally recreate The Madg’s costume for that clip. I was just checking the jacket still fitted – promise!
Orange smock top and loose skirt…and Papa Don’t Preach – frightening.
But, most portentously, the perfect job interview dress and cardigan… and Vogue!
I needed no further prompting that this was the outfit I was meant to wear, as I vogued to the music in my bedroom. And I reminded myself that I deserve the power of Madonna - we all deserve the power of Madonna – and the power of a great interview outfit.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
It's Happening.
A couple of months ago I blogged about the random urges to chop my hair that I sometimes experience.
Readers, it is happening again. And this time I have booked an appointment.
Recent life events (prospective job interviews, some sad endings of important things) have inspired me to do something, ANYTHING, about my hair situation.
The only thing is, just as I hung up the phone after booking my appointment for tomorrow, I realised I have no idea what I want done.
Hmmmm...
Readers, it is happening again. And this time I have booked an appointment.
Recent life events (prospective job interviews, some sad endings of important things) have inspired me to do something, ANYTHING, about my hair situation.
The only thing is, just as I hung up the phone after booking my appointment for tomorrow, I realised I have no idea what I want done.
Hmmmm...
Monday, May 9, 2011
A Long, Tall Drink of Water
Because this is an anonymous blog, and I don’t post pictures of myself, there are several things about my appearance you may not know. One of which is that I’m rather tall. About 5’9, in old money. After reading in the SMH’s Good Weekend magazine that the ideal height men nominated for a woman was 163cm, I got to thinking about my height.
I’ve often whished myself shorter. When I was in school, being shorter would have meant sitting with the girls rather than standing with the boys in school photographs. When I began college and uni, being shorter would have meant that I could have gone unnoticed a little more in class, rather than sticking out like a very tall sore thumb. Being shorter would mean that off the rack dresses and skirts would be the right length at the hemline and arms. Being shorter would mean that I would be substantially less clumsy – less distance for wires to get crossed between my brain and my feet. It would also mean that I would be ‘cute’, rather than ‘handsome’, that people would not look up to me (literally), and that I could get away with some more ‘out there’ clothes and make up without worrying that I looked like a female impersonator.
On the other hand…
Being tall means I can reach the high shelves in my wardrobe without a stepladder. Being tall means that I can wear patterned tights because of the extra yardage in the leg department. Being tall makes it hard for me to be overlooked in a meeting, seminar, or tutorial, and it’s nice to have to force myself to think of not-too-stupid things to contribute. Being tall, so I’ve been told, gives a person a natural air of authority, and, as such I’m capable of bringing my classes into line by standing up when I talk to them (freakily, this does work). Being tall means that I can wear big hats without looking like an elf. Being tall means that I walk fast – and given room allocations at uni this semester, I cannot be grateful enough for my super fast walking capabilities, even if it is a clumsy trot rather than an elegant stride.
So, on balance, whilst 163cm might be the ideal height for the average woman, 175cm might just be the ideal height for me.
I’ve often whished myself shorter. When I was in school, being shorter would have meant sitting with the girls rather than standing with the boys in school photographs. When I began college and uni, being shorter would have meant that I could have gone unnoticed a little more in class, rather than sticking out like a very tall sore thumb. Being shorter would mean that off the rack dresses and skirts would be the right length at the hemline and arms. Being shorter would mean that I would be substantially less clumsy – less distance for wires to get crossed between my brain and my feet. It would also mean that I would be ‘cute’, rather than ‘handsome’, that people would not look up to me (literally), and that I could get away with some more ‘out there’ clothes and make up without worrying that I looked like a female impersonator.
On the other hand…
Being tall means I can reach the high shelves in my wardrobe without a stepladder. Being tall means that I can wear patterned tights because of the extra yardage in the leg department. Being tall makes it hard for me to be overlooked in a meeting, seminar, or tutorial, and it’s nice to have to force myself to think of not-too-stupid things to contribute. Being tall, so I’ve been told, gives a person a natural air of authority, and, as such I’m capable of bringing my classes into line by standing up when I talk to them (freakily, this does work). Being tall means that I can wear big hats without looking like an elf. Being tall means that I walk fast – and given room allocations at uni this semester, I cannot be grateful enough for my super fast walking capabilities, even if it is a clumsy trot rather than an elegant stride.
So, on balance, whilst 163cm might be the ideal height for the average woman, 175cm might just be the ideal height for me.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Ita.
Dear Ita,
It’s now official. You are my new favorite person.
You, and Asher Keddy’s depiction of you in Paper Giants, are just so cool. The way you handled Kerry and Sir Frank? Genius. A demanding career and single motherhood? Again, genius. Being confident enough in your project to go ahead undaunted by poor focus group reviews? Again, and again, Genius. Bringing a vibrator to a staff meeting? Fabulous, but somehow I don’t think it’s something I will be attempting any time soon in my department. Although maybe just for lafs…
But I digress.
Ita, it’s from this place of immense props and respect that I have an important question to ask you, because if you can’t answer it, no one can.
My question is: is it alright to wear V necklines in the workplace, and, if so, how should one do it?
You see, I know from reading about it that you were very involved in Paper Giants, and gave your advice and direction as to what Ms Keddy should wear. (Of course, I am not surprised that a women of your immense talents and capabilities would take such a pro-active role in her own biopic. I expect to have full editorial control over my own when it is eventually released.) And, Ms Keddy, while depicting you taking on the magazine world, wore some pretty fabulous things, many of which were sternum-grazingly veed.
I have yet to brave wearing some of my more veed tops and dressed this year when I am having a particular ‘worky’ work day. I worry about what my colleagues and my students may think of me. Indeed, I have even written blog posts about how my ideal teaching dresses (Miss Honeys) are high necked to preserve my modesty.
But I am now wondering about the role that some Ms Buttroses, i.e, dresses and outfits that are substantially more liberated (and possibly accompanied by a charming speech impediment), may play in my high rotation working wardrobe. In particular, I would appreciate your thoughts about environments where one is exposed to some of the less refined blokes of the world (again, I feel your experience with Packers junior and senior would be of assistance here). Some of my students have a long way to go.
I would greatly appreciate your thoughts and consideration on this matter, and wish to again express my profound thanks and admiration. Even though Dame Edna did upstage you in the recent Royal Wedding coverage, you are still the standard of modern womanhood to which I aspire.
Lotsa love,
Peggy xx
It’s now official. You are my new favorite person.
You, and Asher Keddy’s depiction of you in Paper Giants, are just so cool. The way you handled Kerry and Sir Frank? Genius. A demanding career and single motherhood? Again, genius. Being confident enough in your project to go ahead undaunted by poor focus group reviews? Again, and again, Genius. Bringing a vibrator to a staff meeting? Fabulous, but somehow I don’t think it’s something I will be attempting any time soon in my department. Although maybe just for lafs…
But I digress.
Ita, it’s from this place of immense props and respect that I have an important question to ask you, because if you can’t answer it, no one can.
My question is: is it alright to wear V necklines in the workplace, and, if so, how should one do it?
You see, I know from reading about it that you were very involved in Paper Giants, and gave your advice and direction as to what Ms Keddy should wear. (Of course, I am not surprised that a women of your immense talents and capabilities would take such a pro-active role in her own biopic. I expect to have full editorial control over my own when it is eventually released.) And, Ms Keddy, while depicting you taking on the magazine world, wore some pretty fabulous things, many of which were sternum-grazingly veed.
I have yet to brave wearing some of my more veed tops and dressed this year when I am having a particular ‘worky’ work day. I worry about what my colleagues and my students may think of me. Indeed, I have even written blog posts about how my ideal teaching dresses (Miss Honeys) are high necked to preserve my modesty.
But I am now wondering about the role that some Ms Buttroses, i.e, dresses and outfits that are substantially more liberated (and possibly accompanied by a charming speech impediment), may play in my high rotation working wardrobe. In particular, I would appreciate your thoughts about environments where one is exposed to some of the less refined blokes of the world (again, I feel your experience with Packers junior and senior would be of assistance here). Some of my students have a long way to go.
I would greatly appreciate your thoughts and consideration on this matter, and wish to again express my profound thanks and admiration. Even though Dame Edna did upstage you in the recent Royal Wedding coverage, you are still the standard of modern womanhood to which I aspire.
Lotsa love,
Peggy xx
Monday, April 11, 2011
Note to Self
Dear Peggy,
When you are not feeling up to tip-top standard, and have a lot of things to do, DON'T try for wardrobe brilliance.
Because, if you spend the better part of an hour trying on, taking off, trying on again with a differnet cardigain, takign off again in a huff, you will not only miss three buses, you will be forced to come home to a room covered in fashion excriment. Complete with rejects, naked coathangers, discarded shoes, and a herniated wardrobe. (There were supposed to be pictures this week, but, unfortunately, my camera is not working - maybe it was offended?)
Instead, put on the most comfotable, most easy, and most black outfit of all (Johnny Cash, who faced his share of days that weren't at tip top standard, was onto something).
You might not get complimented. You might not get looked at. But at least you will get to work on time.
Which will mean you can come home early for a cup of tea and some of Jackie O's biography before heading out to job number two.
Cheers and lotsalove,
Peggy x
When you are not feeling up to tip-top standard, and have a lot of things to do, DON'T try for wardrobe brilliance.
Because, if you spend the better part of an hour trying on, taking off, trying on again with a differnet cardigain, takign off again in a huff, you will not only miss three buses, you will be forced to come home to a room covered in fashion excriment. Complete with rejects, naked coathangers, discarded shoes, and a herniated wardrobe. (There were supposed to be pictures this week, but, unfortunately, my camera is not working - maybe it was offended?)
Instead, put on the most comfotable, most easy, and most black outfit of all (Johnny Cash, who faced his share of days that weren't at tip top standard, was onto something).
You might not get complimented. You might not get looked at. But at least you will get to work on time.
Which will mean you can come home early for a cup of tea and some of Jackie O's biography before heading out to job number two.
Cheers and lotsalove,
Peggy x
Monday, April 4, 2011
Top Ten
It’s been yet another busy week here for Ms Entwhistle – I know, I know, we’re all busy, so there’s nothing new or exciting in my busy-ness. But, some wonderful things have been happening this week, so I thought I’d share some glimpses and snippets of my week with you, in the hopes that you are faring similarly well.
#10 – Sumatran Organic Fair-Trade (also slightly sanctimonious) Coffee. I ran out a couple of weeks ago, and couldn’t get myself to Jindebah Coffee until late this week just passed – but this magnificent coffee is so worth the wait and the journey to the deep south.
#9 – Marking First Year Essays. For a couple of reasons, I’ve ended up teaching a lot more than I intended this semester, hence a large part of my business. This means I get to mark 75 of each assessment task, and there are four assessment tasks in the course that I teach. I’m not doing the math because it’s going to scare me, but if you want to do it, go right ahead. This week I marked the first piece of assessment, and, as always, I’m thrilled by the effort that my little firsties have put into their work. Yes, marking is a headache, literally and metaphorically, but it also makes me smile.
#8 – Macaron Day. On Saturday, MamaK, Tessy Halberton and I had a girls’ afternoon making macarons. Whilst they are our first attempt, and, like the first year essays mentioned above, have a long way to go before they are perfect, they still taste rather magnificent.
#7 – The End Of Fieldwork. Yes, folks, it’s over. Specifically, it ended at 3am at an unnamed fieldwork location, and I was supremely glad. Particularly as The Dreamboat, acting the role of BIG HE MAN PROTECTOR, willingly stayed up all night, and surrendered the wee small hours of his twenty sixth birthday to doing something no one in their right mind would do. Which brings me to wonderful thing six…
#6 – The Dreamboat’s Birthday. Dreamboat turned 26 on Friday, and, although we were both whacked from a hard night’s observing, it was still a lovely day. Happy birthday darling, I’m glad you liked your present, even if I dropped it and it doesn’t quite work properly anymore – incidentally, does anyone know of a barometer repairer?
#5 – Autumn Barbecues. For the Dreamboat’s birthday lunch, we packed an impromptu BBQ and headed out to Cotter Bend reserve. It’s one of my favorite places in the whole world, especially at this time of year. I would have taken my camera to snap some shots to share with you all, but I thought better of it, as I want you all to go yourselves – the golden leaves and musky-earthy smell of the lichen is worth the windy road.
#4 – Lemons (and one lime) In My Kitchen. Don’t they look cheerful? They remind me of sunshine every time I see them.
#3 – Sunday Yum Cha. I promise I will never leave it ten years between drinks with Yum Cha, because it’s so much fun. Especially when you go with a group of ten people. Especially when you can chat about fabulous bargain fashion with friends you hadn’t caught up with in a while. Especially when there’s a giant Lazy Susan to twirl food on. Especially when you discover that friend whitebait is like fish and chips combined in the one foodstuff. Especially when you try tripe and are pleasantly surprised.
#2 – Fabulous Vintage Dresses. I scored two this week – one from the fifties and one from the seventies. There are so many fantastic vintage clothes sellers popping up around the place, there isn’t an excuse not to get amongst it.
#1 – Frogs. But the most wonderful thing of all this week? Victoria and Albert, our new green tree frogs. Yes, they are named after the royals. Yes, they did keep Dreamboat and I awake with what we think were mating calls (which, strangely enough, sounded like a bird-squawk). Yes, I did wake up in a terrible panic and had to check they were still breathing (I was worried they’d frozen to death).
Oh, but aren’t they just darling?
#10 – Sumatran Organic Fair-Trade (also slightly sanctimonious) Coffee. I ran out a couple of weeks ago, and couldn’t get myself to Jindebah Coffee until late this week just passed – but this magnificent coffee is so worth the wait and the journey to the deep south.
#9 – Marking First Year Essays. For a couple of reasons, I’ve ended up teaching a lot more than I intended this semester, hence a large part of my business. This means I get to mark 75 of each assessment task, and there are four assessment tasks in the course that I teach. I’m not doing the math because it’s going to scare me, but if you want to do it, go right ahead. This week I marked the first piece of assessment, and, as always, I’m thrilled by the effort that my little firsties have put into their work. Yes, marking is a headache, literally and metaphorically, but it also makes me smile.
#8 – Macaron Day. On Saturday, MamaK, Tessy Halberton and I had a girls’ afternoon making macarons. Whilst they are our first attempt, and, like the first year essays mentioned above, have a long way to go before they are perfect, they still taste rather magnificent.
#7 – The End Of Fieldwork. Yes, folks, it’s over. Specifically, it ended at 3am at an unnamed fieldwork location, and I was supremely glad. Particularly as The Dreamboat, acting the role of BIG HE MAN PROTECTOR, willingly stayed up all night, and surrendered the wee small hours of his twenty sixth birthday to doing something no one in their right mind would do. Which brings me to wonderful thing six…
#6 – The Dreamboat’s Birthday. Dreamboat turned 26 on Friday, and, although we were both whacked from a hard night’s observing, it was still a lovely day. Happy birthday darling, I’m glad you liked your present, even if I dropped it and it doesn’t quite work properly anymore – incidentally, does anyone know of a barometer repairer?
#5 – Autumn Barbecues. For the Dreamboat’s birthday lunch, we packed an impromptu BBQ and headed out to Cotter Bend reserve. It’s one of my favorite places in the whole world, especially at this time of year. I would have taken my camera to snap some shots to share with you all, but I thought better of it, as I want you all to go yourselves – the golden leaves and musky-earthy smell of the lichen is worth the windy road.
#4 – Lemons (and one lime) In My Kitchen. Don’t they look cheerful? They remind me of sunshine every time I see them.
#3 – Sunday Yum Cha. I promise I will never leave it ten years between drinks with Yum Cha, because it’s so much fun. Especially when you go with a group of ten people. Especially when you can chat about fabulous bargain fashion with friends you hadn’t caught up with in a while. Especially when there’s a giant Lazy Susan to twirl food on. Especially when you discover that friend whitebait is like fish and chips combined in the one foodstuff. Especially when you try tripe and are pleasantly surprised.
#2 – Fabulous Vintage Dresses. I scored two this week – one from the fifties and one from the seventies. There are so many fantastic vintage clothes sellers popping up around the place, there isn’t an excuse not to get amongst it.
#1 – Frogs. But the most wonderful thing of all this week? Victoria and Albert, our new green tree frogs. Yes, they are named after the royals. Yes, they did keep Dreamboat and I awake with what we think were mating calls (which, strangely enough, sounded like a bird-squawk). Yes, I did wake up in a terrible panic and had to check they were still breathing (I was worried they’d frozen to death).
Oh, but aren’t they just darling?
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