I’m not above admitting low brow musical tastes. Those of you who tune in regularly will know I’ve confessed on this blog that: I Heart One Direction; my pet fish are named after Prince songs; the fact that Big W’s in house radio station played I Want To Know What Love Is made my day; and Wham! and I share a profound spiritual connection, especially at Christmas.
But, I don’t feel I’ve fully explained to you the extent to which I am the Reigning Princess of Truly Awful Musical Taste (if that doesn’t deserve a pink rhinestone flashing tiara, I don’t know what does).
You see, I was that drunk chickybabe whose Big Night(s) Out started AND ended, rather than just ended, at ICBM dancing to Whitney Houston, my sticky dance floor times punctuated only by the briefest of interludes at the Phoenix (so so mouldy) where I promised/threatened to dance on the table if My Sharona was played.
Whether or not this event actually occurred shall remain a mystery.
I am that colleague of yours who sings Don’t Stop Believing while I help you file a backlog of paperwork, even thought I can’t carry a tune in a bucket and falter on the high falsetto while imploring you to ‘hold onto that feeling’.
I am that person at the traffic lights in the vehicle next to yours, head back, eyes closed, thrashing my head side to side, in a particularly emphatic sing along to Love is A Battlefield, while you wonder if I’m having an epileptic seizure.
I am the woman who covers the screen of her iPod on the bus so you can’t see that I’m listening to You Shook Me All Night Long at 8am on a freezing Canberra morning.
I am Richard Kingsmill’s worst nightmare.
I am, indeed, the Reigning Princess of Truly Awful Musical Taste.
Being royalty of this nature has its advantages. The most important of which is that I have at my disposal a superior armoury of epic ballads for those moments when you need to plug yourself in and turn on the Power.
These moments occur frequently when you are writing a PhD, or any piece of writing that is long, hard, and, ultimately, 100% worth the effort. Over the years of my PhD candidature, I’ve honed the perfect power ballad playlist for belting out a 500 word chunk of thesis.
Intuitively, you’d think tunes to mellow you out would be the best accompaniment to an intense writing sesh. However, I’ve found that the only way I can work with my thesis, rather than against it, is to embrace the high baroque drama of intellectual endeavour and thematically arrange my playlist to work me through the peaks and troughs that characterise my writing patterns.
Now, the cool part of you is saying no, but there’s a little bit of you, your inner dag, that’s curious to hear what’s on my Power playlist. Don’t try to hide it, I know it’s there.
Or, at very least, you want to read my justification for why it’s these songs, these deeply embarrassing, terminally uncool songs, with cheesy, dreadful, lyrics, some of which I’ve incorporated here, which help me pound out some serious wordage more than anything else.
Well. Here it is. Don’t say I didn’t warn you about the Power surge:
Eye of The Tiger (Survivor) Any Power montage has to start here. It’s the only music you can do pre-typing stretching to. Take your time, take your chances.
If I Could Turn Back Time (Cher) You’ve opened the chapter you’re working on, and, if you could turn back time, you’d take back all those words you wrote yesterday, as they’re kind of awful.
Wanted Dead or Alive (Bon Jovi) The times when you’re alone, and all you do is think.
When Doves Cry (Prince) This is what it sounds like when doves cry.
Total Eclipse of the Heart (Bonnie Tyler) You’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks. You’re at the 200 word mark. Every now and then you fall apart.
I Would Do Anything For Love – (Meatloaf) You’re hitting 250 and the words don’t come easy. Take a vow, seal a pact. You will do anything for this to work.
November Rain – (Guns and Roses) Nothing lasts forever, even cold November Rain. Gunners are all that will get you through the 250-350 word doldrums.
I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing – (Aerosmith) Your work has turned a corner, but it’s not quite there yet. This means it’s time for a serious strings section. You could stay lost in this moment, this moment of knowing that you are so close to the finish, forever.
Can’t Get Enough of Your Love, Babe – (Barry White) Debate this soul classic’s inclusion in a Power list all you want, but it’s at this point, where you’re whomping through that last 100 words in big, easy, sentences – something’s moving - that you need some serious soul.
Freedom ’90 – (George Michael) I won’t let you down, I will not give you up, you’ve got to have some faith in the sound, it’s the one good thing that I’ve got.
That, and a completed 500 word chunk of your thesis. Power to you.
PS: if you got all the references to all the songs on my Power list, the title of Reigning Princess of Truly Awful Musical Taste falls rightfully to you. But I’m keeping the pink rhinestone flashing tiara.
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Friday, July 27, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
The Top Ten Things About Working In An Office…
10) You walk in, walk out, and leave your work exactly where it should be. Where, exactly, should your work be? I’m glad you asked. The answer is surprisingly simple. Work should be on your desk. (Not in your handbag to read and grade over dinner, not in your head to think about in the shower, not scribbled in your fieldwork notebook to type up at some ungodly hour of the morning. Work does not belong in these places. Work. Belongs. On. Your. Desk.)
9) There are office morning teas.
8) There are office afternoon teas.
7) There are office lunches.
6) There is office birthday cake.
5) You will have lovely coworkers who make sure you are looked after on your first day at work.
4) You will have lovely coworkers who change sections two weeks into your job (sadface) and let you have their old desk with incredible views of Black Mountain (so much happyface).
3) You will discover that you still have the magic when it comes to difficult key stakeholder phone calls. The perfect persuasive phone purr? A definite office asset.
2) Casual Friday.
1) You get to go for walks to and from the printer, pretending you are Joan from Mad Men.
9) There are office morning teas.
8) There are office afternoon teas.
7) There are office lunches.
6) There is office birthday cake.
5) You will have lovely coworkers who make sure you are looked after on your first day at work.
4) You will have lovely coworkers who change sections two weeks into your job (sadface) and let you have their old desk with incredible views of Black Mountain (so much happyface).
3) You will discover that you still have the magic when it comes to difficult key stakeholder phone calls. The perfect persuasive phone purr? A definite office asset.
2) Casual Friday.
1) You get to go for walks to and from the printer, pretending you are Joan from Mad Men.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Listing
I write lists. Shopping lists. Wish lists. To-Do-Today lists. To-Do-This-Month lists. Just-Do-It lists. Lists that masquerade as other things. Lists drawn as ideas maps. Lists in the round. If I do it, want to do it, or have done it, it’s on a list somewhere.
At the moment, there are six lists on my office wall. Looking at them is like looking at a portion of my brain, splattered onto A4, although slightly less gory. There’s an ideas map for a course I’ll be convening this summer. A list of my responsibilities for another summer course I’ll be involved with. Tutorials times, rooms, and essay due dates for the first year course that I’m teaching semester. A list of seminars I’m going to be running for a masters course, to prompt me to find some relevant readings. ANU principal dates. And, last but not least, a list of monthly targets I’ve set for my PhD thesis.
I never meant to have this many lists occupying wall space in my office. After all, isn’t the purpose of a list to collate information into the one place, efficiently, economically, putting all the pieces of the puzzle into their correct places? Theoretically, yes. But in reality, my lists seem to breed, one list begetting another, until suddenly my office is decorated with blu-tacked pieces of scribbled-on and crossed-out pieces of paper.
I looked at this disorder this morning, and, after momentary frustration, laughed. Because this tendency to write lists is one half of a symbiotic relationship with another tendency of mine: I love to cross things off. Is there a better feeling than running a thick, heavy pencil line through that particularly bothersome task that is now, in the words of a certain opposition leader, dead, buried, cremated? Or doodeling loopy biro circles over a list-task you did and enjoyed?
I write so many lists so that I can give myself that little moment of satisfaction, that feeling of a job, if not well, at least competently, done, and the restoration of some sense where there was previously befuddlement. And all triumphs of sense over befuddlement, in my humble opinion, ought to be celebrated.
At the moment, there are six lists on my office wall. Looking at them is like looking at a portion of my brain, splattered onto A4, although slightly less gory. There’s an ideas map for a course I’ll be convening this summer. A list of my responsibilities for another summer course I’ll be involved with. Tutorials times, rooms, and essay due dates for the first year course that I’m teaching semester. A list of seminars I’m going to be running for a masters course, to prompt me to find some relevant readings. ANU principal dates. And, last but not least, a list of monthly targets I’ve set for my PhD thesis.
I never meant to have this many lists occupying wall space in my office. After all, isn’t the purpose of a list to collate information into the one place, efficiently, economically, putting all the pieces of the puzzle into their correct places? Theoretically, yes. But in reality, my lists seem to breed, one list begetting another, until suddenly my office is decorated with blu-tacked pieces of scribbled-on and crossed-out pieces of paper.
I looked at this disorder this morning, and, after momentary frustration, laughed. Because this tendency to write lists is one half of a symbiotic relationship with another tendency of mine: I love to cross things off. Is there a better feeling than running a thick, heavy pencil line through that particularly bothersome task that is now, in the words of a certain opposition leader, dead, buried, cremated? Or doodeling loopy biro circles over a list-task you did and enjoyed?
I write so many lists so that I can give myself that little moment of satisfaction, that feeling of a job, if not well, at least competently, done, and the restoration of some sense where there was previously befuddlement. And all triumphs of sense over befuddlement, in my humble opinion, ought to be celebrated.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Work it Out
It’s official. I’m not unemployable!
Whilst I’ll be taking a couple of weeks to work out exactly what my options are and the direction I want to take, the results at the moment are that I have a concrete offer and should be hearing most likely some positive news about another offer next week.
Aside from feeling relieved, I’m incredibly excited. About starting a new job, yes. About having greater financial freedom, yes. About new experiences, new people, new opportunities, yes, yes, yes.
About the chance to develop the world’s most amazing corporate cute wardrobe – HELLZ TO THE YEAH, TO THE POWER OF TEN.
Like applying for jobs, I’ve begun my background preparation well in advance when it comes to rising to the top of the Department of Amazing Corporate Cute Wardrobe. After recent closet upheavals I’ve blogged about previously, I’ve audited the existing garments and identified gaps to be filled. (Incidentally, this is how my supervisor suggested I start my PhD – by auditing the existing literature and identifying a gap. See, I am putting my academic skillz to good use in a workplace context already!) I’ve also consulted widely with experts in the field – Kitty Gilfeather, Mimi Goss, Zsusannah Verona and Clementine Kemp – and conducted observational research whilst waiting to pick MamaK up from her department. It’s from this extensive research base that I have developed a strong and clear strategic direction for the work wardrobe project, broken down into key priorities and areas for action.
The priorities, in order of importance:
Dresses in summer weight suiting
Pencil skirts
Cardigans – especially summer weight cropped, but also replacement of worn out winter woolies
Summer work shoes with a mid heel
(Again, prioritization – a highly transferable skill set)
Before I even knew I had a job, I’d sent MamaK and PapaK off to Malaysia with my favorite interview dress to be copied in summer weight wool suiting. They returned with five lovely dresses, which, after a few additional tweaks at the tailors, will be perfect for summer work wear. I’m confident that these dresses will transfer to winter work wear easily, with the addition of cardigans, tights and boots. Dresses in summer weight suiting – actioned.
As I’ve mentioned before, I base my wardrobe around dresses, and don’t anticipate that changing once I commence my grown up job. As variety is the spice of life, though, I felt that at least one pencil skirt, to combine with various tops and cardigans, would be a useful alternative for consideration. Flexibility is, after all, a valuable quality. A trip to Material Pleasures, my favorite second hand clothing outlet, turned up the perfect gray wool pencil skirt with a twist – the dinkiest pleat detail at the back! Only problem was, it was too small at the hips and too large at the waist. A few alterations later, and it’s ready to go. Pencil skirt – actioned.
Cardigans are proving to be more elusive. The particular style I like to wear with smart dresses, that is, cropped with short to mid sleeves, are sadly elusive. I have my grey-with-beading interview cardigan, and a recently acquired plain black Laura Ashley, but anticipate greater need of this key resource for covering upper arms and keeping warm in air conditioned offices. Cardigans have therefore been identified as an emerging priority in the key area of wardrobe planning.
Last but not least, summer work shoes with a mid heel round out my list of priorities. My favorite summer sandals that I blogged about at the beginning of this year could do at a pinch, but they are showing signs of wear. I have plenty of cute pumps, but most are suitable for cooler weather – closed toe, t-bar straps, in black or brightly coloured. I purchased a fantastic pair of red high heeled boots on the weekend, but they will be too sticky for January/February, when I start work. Taking action to rectify this situation, the key strategic direction I aim to take in this area is a nude or tan coloured, open toe, mid heel pump, sans strap, to achieve my goals of professionalism and leg elongation.
But with the rad wardrobe and academic skillz portfolio I’ve worked out over the years, I’m sure I’ll be all over summer work shoes and cropped cardigans like white on rice.
Whilst I’ll be taking a couple of weeks to work out exactly what my options are and the direction I want to take, the results at the moment are that I have a concrete offer and should be hearing most likely some positive news about another offer next week.
Aside from feeling relieved, I’m incredibly excited. About starting a new job, yes. About having greater financial freedom, yes. About new experiences, new people, new opportunities, yes, yes, yes.
About the chance to develop the world’s most amazing corporate cute wardrobe – HELLZ TO THE YEAH, TO THE POWER OF TEN.
Like applying for jobs, I’ve begun my background preparation well in advance when it comes to rising to the top of the Department of Amazing Corporate Cute Wardrobe. After recent closet upheavals I’ve blogged about previously, I’ve audited the existing garments and identified gaps to be filled. (Incidentally, this is how my supervisor suggested I start my PhD – by auditing the existing literature and identifying a gap. See, I am putting my academic skillz to good use in a workplace context already!) I’ve also consulted widely with experts in the field – Kitty Gilfeather, Mimi Goss, Zsusannah Verona and Clementine Kemp – and conducted observational research whilst waiting to pick MamaK up from her department. It’s from this extensive research base that I have developed a strong and clear strategic direction for the work wardrobe project, broken down into key priorities and areas for action.
The priorities, in order of importance:
Dresses in summer weight suiting
Pencil skirts
Cardigans – especially summer weight cropped, but also replacement of worn out winter woolies
Summer work shoes with a mid heel
(Again, prioritization – a highly transferable skill set)
Before I even knew I had a job, I’d sent MamaK and PapaK off to Malaysia with my favorite interview dress to be copied in summer weight wool suiting. They returned with five lovely dresses, which, after a few additional tweaks at the tailors, will be perfect for summer work wear. I’m confident that these dresses will transfer to winter work wear easily, with the addition of cardigans, tights and boots. Dresses in summer weight suiting – actioned.
As I’ve mentioned before, I base my wardrobe around dresses, and don’t anticipate that changing once I commence my grown up job. As variety is the spice of life, though, I felt that at least one pencil skirt, to combine with various tops and cardigans, would be a useful alternative for consideration. Flexibility is, after all, a valuable quality. A trip to Material Pleasures, my favorite second hand clothing outlet, turned up the perfect gray wool pencil skirt with a twist – the dinkiest pleat detail at the back! Only problem was, it was too small at the hips and too large at the waist. A few alterations later, and it’s ready to go. Pencil skirt – actioned.
Cardigans are proving to be more elusive. The particular style I like to wear with smart dresses, that is, cropped with short to mid sleeves, are sadly elusive. I have my grey-with-beading interview cardigan, and a recently acquired plain black Laura Ashley, but anticipate greater need of this key resource for covering upper arms and keeping warm in air conditioned offices. Cardigans have therefore been identified as an emerging priority in the key area of wardrobe planning.
Last but not least, summer work shoes with a mid heel round out my list of priorities. My favorite summer sandals that I blogged about at the beginning of this year could do at a pinch, but they are showing signs of wear. I have plenty of cute pumps, but most are suitable for cooler weather – closed toe, t-bar straps, in black or brightly coloured. I purchased a fantastic pair of red high heeled boots on the weekend, but they will be too sticky for January/February, when I start work. Taking action to rectify this situation, the key strategic direction I aim to take in this area is a nude or tan coloured, open toe, mid heel pump, sans strap, to achieve my goals of professionalism and leg elongation.
But with the rad wardrobe and academic skillz portfolio I’ve worked out over the years, I’m sure I’ll be all over summer work shoes and cropped cardigans like white on rice.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Too Hard, Too Soft, Just Right: A Sparkling Interview Outfit
As I might have mentioned a couple of times here lately, there have been some job interviews happening. I’m not going to jinx anything by naming names here, suffice to say that if we were in a Harry Potter novel, I’d be the witch beavering away at finishing her OWLS, hoping to join one of the Ministry of Magic’s departments at the beginning of next year.
Having not had any sort of job interview in 4 years, I’d lost my bearings regarding appropriate interview wear. Whilst I like what I wear and do a good job being professional in my current context, Professor Professional simply won’t cut it for an interview at the Ministry.
If I were a boy, (cough, young man, cough cough), the decision would have been made for me – suit, clean and ironed shirt, tie, haircut. Maybe cufflinks, but probably not.
I am not a boy, or a young man - I am a woman. And so interview attire, like so many other things in life, becomes considerably more complicated.
I did think about going the LadySuit route, but was turned off by the price tag, and the lack of suitably fitting top and bottom parings within even the upper echelons of my budget. Another consideration is that I tend to be a nervous fidgeter. The combination of Jacket, Blouse, Skirt, Tights and Shoes would present one’s fingers with too many irresistible fidgety temptations. I just knew I’d spend the better part of the day running to and from the bathrooms checking that all the components were sitting right.
And even if they were sitting right, am I the LadySuit type? I think there’s something a little too hard about all that matching suiting fabric, firmly tucked in and buttoned up. Those of us who have done our fashion history homework know modern suiting is mainly influenced by military garb, and I am not sure that I am the ship-shape-and-bristol-fashion type.
Another option was the skirt, blouse and cardigan combination. Theoretically, I thought this was a brilliant idea, a kind of softly-softly response the LadySuit. Trying on various permutations of this look during my fashion montage a couple of weeks ago, however, gave me a new insight into the problems faced by many a soviet nation: theory is good in theory, not so much in practice.
Like goldilocks, I was placed in a situation where two extremes were presented to me, neither appealing – the LadySuit too hard, the skirt, blouse and cardigan too soft. What, I wondered, would be Just Right?
I thought about the two and a bit years that I have been writing this blog, reflecting on what clothes and style mean to me. What do I always return to, without fail? What garments do I feel most at ease, and most myself, in?
The answer was simple. The Dress.
Like Australian politicians reverting to knee-jerk reactionism (but I digress, this is not a political blog…) dresses are what I rely on when everything else it too hard or complicated. From my Miss Honeys, to my Ms Buttroses, my favorite summer frocks, to my jersey farmers market throw-ons, dresses are what I wear the most. Why would I abandon my signature look for this exciting new enterprise?
The field was successful and swiftly narrowed to one particular dress – a Mimi Goss cast off, black, sleeveless, modest yet figure defining, with a charming folded-fabric detail at the collar. A cardigan, for warmth and to cover the upper arms (which apparently are ‘unprofessional’ – who knew?) would complete the look. After a moment of hesitation, I decided on a cropped, three quarter sleeve, charcoal grey number with subtle but sparkly beading at the collar.
I wondered – is it appropriate to be just a teensy bit sparkly in a job interview? But then I realized that’s the whole point of a job interview - to sparkle. And I was Just Right.
Author’s note: At the time of writing, my favorite interview dress is half way around the world, with MamaK and PapaK, to serve as a template for several duplicates they are generously having made. Before my interview dress and I are reunited, I have two more interviews – so I guess it’s back to the drawing board for me!
Having not had any sort of job interview in 4 years, I’d lost my bearings regarding appropriate interview wear. Whilst I like what I wear and do a good job being professional in my current context, Professor Professional simply won’t cut it for an interview at the Ministry.
If I were a boy, (cough, young man, cough cough), the decision would have been made for me – suit, clean and ironed shirt, tie, haircut. Maybe cufflinks, but probably not.
I am not a boy, or a young man - I am a woman. And so interview attire, like so many other things in life, becomes considerably more complicated.
I did think about going the LadySuit route, but was turned off by the price tag, and the lack of suitably fitting top and bottom parings within even the upper echelons of my budget. Another consideration is that I tend to be a nervous fidgeter. The combination of Jacket, Blouse, Skirt, Tights and Shoes would present one’s fingers with too many irresistible fidgety temptations. I just knew I’d spend the better part of the day running to and from the bathrooms checking that all the components were sitting right.
And even if they were sitting right, am I the LadySuit type? I think there’s something a little too hard about all that matching suiting fabric, firmly tucked in and buttoned up. Those of us who have done our fashion history homework know modern suiting is mainly influenced by military garb, and I am not sure that I am the ship-shape-and-bristol-fashion type.
Another option was the skirt, blouse and cardigan combination. Theoretically, I thought this was a brilliant idea, a kind of softly-softly response the LadySuit. Trying on various permutations of this look during my fashion montage a couple of weeks ago, however, gave me a new insight into the problems faced by many a soviet nation: theory is good in theory, not so much in practice.
Like goldilocks, I was placed in a situation where two extremes were presented to me, neither appealing – the LadySuit too hard, the skirt, blouse and cardigan too soft. What, I wondered, would be Just Right?
I thought about the two and a bit years that I have been writing this blog, reflecting on what clothes and style mean to me. What do I always return to, without fail? What garments do I feel most at ease, and most myself, in?
The answer was simple. The Dress.
Like Australian politicians reverting to knee-jerk reactionism (but I digress, this is not a political blog…) dresses are what I rely on when everything else it too hard or complicated. From my Miss Honeys, to my Ms Buttroses, my favorite summer frocks, to my jersey farmers market throw-ons, dresses are what I wear the most. Why would I abandon my signature look for this exciting new enterprise?
The field was successful and swiftly narrowed to one particular dress – a Mimi Goss cast off, black, sleeveless, modest yet figure defining, with a charming folded-fabric detail at the collar. A cardigan, for warmth and to cover the upper arms (which apparently are ‘unprofessional’ – who knew?) would complete the look. After a moment of hesitation, I decided on a cropped, three quarter sleeve, charcoal grey number with subtle but sparkly beading at the collar.
I wondered – is it appropriate to be just a teensy bit sparkly in a job interview? But then I realized that’s the whole point of a job interview - to sparkle. And I was Just Right.
Author’s note: At the time of writing, my favorite interview dress is half way around the world, with MamaK and PapaK, to serve as a template for several duplicates they are generously having made. Before my interview dress and I are reunited, I have two more interviews – so I guess it’s back to the drawing board for me!
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.
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, January 24, 2011
Total Perfection
For Christmas this year, I gifted Tessy Halberton, my big little brother’s lovely girlfriend, a rather special cookbook – Heston Blumenthal’s Total Perfection. Has anybody seen, read, or coveted it? It’s not simply a cookbook, although there are recipes in it. Heston, in Total Perfection, goes on a quest for the perfect version of a dozen classic dishes that are commonly made and eaten in people’s homes – things like spaghetti bolognaise, black forest cake, fish and chips, and roast potatoes.
I hope Tessy won’t mind if I admit this was not disinterested gift giving – I had a blast browsing through the book on Christmas day – but I fell in love with the concept of the book and just had to find someone to give it to. Knowing that Tessy thinks Heston is fairly close to Total Perfection himself, I knew she would be the perfect recipient.
Thinking about Heston’s quest for culinary Total Perfection got me pondering my quest for Sartorial Total Perfection. I think I’ve always had in my head a Platonic Ideal Wardrobe – not quite the capsule wardrobe of white shirts and LBD’s that fashion editors advocate, but the Ideal Wardrobe For Everything I Need To Do On A Semi Regular Basis. I often feel like my whole life has been a quest for this Platonic Ideal Wardrobe, my own personal Total Perfection – but with a catch. Unlike Heston, who can definitively trace the origins and give the for-all-time perfect recipe for Roast Chicken, thereby achieving Total Perfection, the shadows in my Platonic Ideal Wardrobe are constantly shifting and changing – not much, but enough that my Platonic Ideal Wardrobe is always under review. Additionally, even when I do hit upon a Platonic Ideal Wardrobe piece, inevitably, through wear and tear, it will cease to be a part of the Platonic Idea Wardrobe. Sad but true – as I wrote in the very first post on this blog, fashion is so exciting because we live our lives in it, and unfortunately our garments are often casualties of this lively engagement with fashion.
You can see that the quest for sartorial Total Perfection is a little more complicated than the quest for culinary Total Perfection. But just because something is complicated is absolutely not an excuse to give up on it (a sentiment that, if I were Vice Chancellor, all PhD students would have forcibly tattooed on the backs of their hands by way of an orientation and welcome to Higher Degree Research).
So, what are the most important elements of my Platonic Ideal Wardrobe, as it stands, at the very present?
The Summer Sandal
These are a particularly important, and particularly challenging, part of my quest for Total Wardrobe Perfection, for a couple of reasons. Number One: I have incredibly wide feet, with high arches, and narrow heels. This makes shopping for shoes that are actually going to get heavy duty wear akin to the quest for the holy grail. These sandals have been a godsend this summer, because, for the first time in years, I have a leather sandal-type shoe, which does not look orthopaedic, has a decent yet sturdy heel, is well ventilated and can accommodate all of my particular foot quirks. In short, I have achieved Total Summer Sandal Perfection, thanks to Joanne Mercer. But, as mentioned above, once perfection has been achieved, there is the matter of taking care of wear and tear. I’ve already had the inner leather lining replaced, and the toes are beginning to scuff. After careful ministrations to these scuffs and scratches, no one is too much the wiser, but still, the quest for the perfect summer sandal is one that I know I will face again and again after these sandals have retired to the cave of desecrated Platonic ideals.
The Black Pump
While we’re on the subject of shoes, I would be remiss if I left out my other Platonic Ideal Shoe – my black pumps. These were a serendipitous purchase last February when I was in Scotland. At 12 pounds, made from leather and featuring a cute ruff at the top, I decided it was worth the suitcase squish to bring these home. Upon arrival, I commenced kicking myself for not buying these super comfortable, goes-with-everything bargains in the two other colours available, and I haven’t stopped kicking myself since. Again, like the summer sandals, what makes these shoes ideal is that they have a heel, and it’s substantial, but it’s also broad and well balanced with the rest of the shoe, giving maximum walking comfort. But, like my summer sandals, these too are constantly being taken to the Shoe Hospital for reconstructive surgery – replacing the lining and the heel caps. Incidentally, would anyone else from ANU join me in requesting that we re-do the pebblecrete that dominates our campus walkways? I’m blaming this uneven, hard surface for ripping to shreds the heel caps on most of my good shoes. Just saying, if we want to regain and maintain our status as a world class institution, we need to think of these things.
The It’s Too Hot To Live Dress
Luckily, this year we have had a cooler summer than usual in the ‘[Berra. I say luckily, because, for me, summer is the worst time of year. I melt, literally, as soon as we climb past 28 degrees. I don’t know why – I guess I’m just a naturally warm blooded – but whilst I can tolerate winter comfortably with a good coat and a big scarf, I simply cannot deal with heat, and I find myself entering a state of complete discombobulation in December, only regaining complete use of my faculties in March. As the Dreamboat said the other week, without any tone of facetion, it’s too hot to live. Aside from trying to live when it’s simply too hot to, the matter of how to dress oneself when it’s boiling is another quest for Total Perfection I seem to be perpetually on. Summers past, I had a nice rotation of floral sundresses, with very daring necklines, which worked well and kept me moderately cool. However, I got sick of sunburnt cleavage – it’s almost as painful as a sunburnt bottom, the misfortune of which I have experienced (but that’s a post for another time). I also became concerned about the more serious impacts of sun exposure to my décolletage, tanned hide not being a look I am particularly keen on, at least outside of shoes and bags. So, this summer I’ve steered away from my flirty florals and towards a modified, sun safe (ish) too-hot-to-live-dress. Although it’s not totally perfect – it’s not as flattering or as flirty as I would like – and I have got a little bit over it in the last few days, it has seen me through the worst of the hot summer days that global warming will continue to inflict on us.
The Miss Honey
Just as Roald Dahl’s Miss Honey is the Platonic Ideal of teachers, I’ve titled my Platonic Ideal Teaching Dresses ‘Miss Honeys’. Since starting tutoring in July 2009, my ideas teaching outfit has been reworked and refined. I’ve now concluded that the best teaching outfits are based on a dress with the following features: A high (ish) neckline, a fitted bodice, a knee length fitted skirt OR an above the knee flared/pleased skirt. Additional features include the capacity for a top underneath and/or a cardigan over the top, belting optional, and colourful scarves, bags, and interesting jewellery a must. I have four dresses which are more or less perfect Miss Honeys, but, as always with Platonic Ideals, rotation and replacement is imperative. What I love about this particular way of dressing is that it is ‘on message’ – I’m friendly and approachable, but I take tutoring seriously – but it’s also very easy to wear. Because of the dress’ simplicity, there are minimal elements that can go wrong. And, when you are facing a class of twenty hostile and confused first years, or a lecture theatre of two hundred of the same, the less things that can go wrong, the better.
The Belt
I can’t really think of any superlatives for the belt – maybe because I can’t put my gratitude toward my collection of belts into words. Over time, they’ve moulded to the contours of my waist, and consequentially look a little worn and tired in these photographs. But, they still do the trick – of holding in place a blousy top, of showing the world that I have a shape, of reminding me by a little gentle pressure that perhaps I don’t need that third piece of cake with afternoon tea. One of the blessings of being an hourglass-y shape is that all you need to do with the vast majority of outfits is add a belt, preferably wide with a large buckle, at your waist, and you instantly look better. Kaftan? Add a belt. Skirt and Top? Add a Belt. Vintage Dress that’s a little too big? Add a belt. Daggy trackies and a hoodie? Add a belt – ok, maybe not in this instance, but I think you get my drift – there’s almost no silhouette problem that an artful belting can’t remedy.
The Black Cardigan
Like my Miss Honeys, the black cardigans in my life are what I turn to when I need something reliable – something reassuringly plain and simple, like a cup of English breakfast tea with a splash of milk. They’re never going to grab a headline, or be the feature of an outfit, but nothing works better to warm you up, or cover up some wobbly upper arms. Like so many of my Platonic Ideal collection, my current crop of black cardis is a little worse for repeated wear – my favourite one, a black wool v-neck Veronica Maine with tortishell buttons, has been carefully washed, darned and de-linted at the end of the last three autumns, ready for winter, but I think this year it will be retired back to the cave, provided, of course, that I can find something similarly ideal with which to replace it. Ah, the never ending quest for Total Perfection.
The Party Piece
Of course, I’m not always in the mood for something plain and reassuring like a black cardigan, or charmingly elegant and appropriate, like my Miss Honeys. Sometimes, the only way to go about getting dressed is to put on your devil-may-care boots, (literal or metaphorical) and get down with your bad self, even if you’re just catching the bus to the city to buy moisturiser and towels. On days like that, you need the Platonic Ideal Party Piece – a garment that crashes the party, chugs a bottle of champagne, and yet still charms the pants off everybody with her look at moi charm. Kitch, kooky and completely one-of a kind defines the ideal party piece for me. It’s probably for these reasons that many of my party pieces are vintage. A party piece is born, not made, and for these reasons you must always snap one up when you see it, no iffs, buts, or maybes.
Reader, there it is – a snapshot of my Platonic Ideal wardrobe. But, as always, the quest for Total Perfection is far from over, and I look forward to sharing with you, in the coming months, the search for the perfect boot, the perfect bra, and the perfect pair of old-fashioned stockings. Yes, the quest for Total Perfection is a long and arduous, but what is life without ideals?
I hope Tessy won’t mind if I admit this was not disinterested gift giving – I had a blast browsing through the book on Christmas day – but I fell in love with the concept of the book and just had to find someone to give it to. Knowing that Tessy thinks Heston is fairly close to Total Perfection himself, I knew she would be the perfect recipient.
Thinking about Heston’s quest for culinary Total Perfection got me pondering my quest for Sartorial Total Perfection. I think I’ve always had in my head a Platonic Ideal Wardrobe – not quite the capsule wardrobe of white shirts and LBD’s that fashion editors advocate, but the Ideal Wardrobe For Everything I Need To Do On A Semi Regular Basis. I often feel like my whole life has been a quest for this Platonic Ideal Wardrobe, my own personal Total Perfection – but with a catch. Unlike Heston, who can definitively trace the origins and give the for-all-time perfect recipe for Roast Chicken, thereby achieving Total Perfection, the shadows in my Platonic Ideal Wardrobe are constantly shifting and changing – not much, but enough that my Platonic Ideal Wardrobe is always under review. Additionally, even when I do hit upon a Platonic Ideal Wardrobe piece, inevitably, through wear and tear, it will cease to be a part of the Platonic Idea Wardrobe. Sad but true – as I wrote in the very first post on this blog, fashion is so exciting because we live our lives in it, and unfortunately our garments are often casualties of this lively engagement with fashion.
You can see that the quest for sartorial Total Perfection is a little more complicated than the quest for culinary Total Perfection. But just because something is complicated is absolutely not an excuse to give up on it (a sentiment that, if I were Vice Chancellor, all PhD students would have forcibly tattooed on the backs of their hands by way of an orientation and welcome to Higher Degree Research).
So, what are the most important elements of my Platonic Ideal Wardrobe, as it stands, at the very present?
The Summer Sandal
These are a particularly important, and particularly challenging, part of my quest for Total Wardrobe Perfection, for a couple of reasons. Number One: I have incredibly wide feet, with high arches, and narrow heels. This makes shopping for shoes that are actually going to get heavy duty wear akin to the quest for the holy grail. These sandals have been a godsend this summer, because, for the first time in years, I have a leather sandal-type shoe, which does not look orthopaedic, has a decent yet sturdy heel, is well ventilated and can accommodate all of my particular foot quirks. In short, I have achieved Total Summer Sandal Perfection, thanks to Joanne Mercer. But, as mentioned above, once perfection has been achieved, there is the matter of taking care of wear and tear. I’ve already had the inner leather lining replaced, and the toes are beginning to scuff. After careful ministrations to these scuffs and scratches, no one is too much the wiser, but still, the quest for the perfect summer sandal is one that I know I will face again and again after these sandals have retired to the cave of desecrated Platonic ideals.
The Black Pump
While we’re on the subject of shoes, I would be remiss if I left out my other Platonic Ideal Shoe – my black pumps. These were a serendipitous purchase last February when I was in Scotland. At 12 pounds, made from leather and featuring a cute ruff at the top, I decided it was worth the suitcase squish to bring these home. Upon arrival, I commenced kicking myself for not buying these super comfortable, goes-with-everything bargains in the two other colours available, and I haven’t stopped kicking myself since. Again, like the summer sandals, what makes these shoes ideal is that they have a heel, and it’s substantial, but it’s also broad and well balanced with the rest of the shoe, giving maximum walking comfort. But, like my summer sandals, these too are constantly being taken to the Shoe Hospital for reconstructive surgery – replacing the lining and the heel caps. Incidentally, would anyone else from ANU join me in requesting that we re-do the pebblecrete that dominates our campus walkways? I’m blaming this uneven, hard surface for ripping to shreds the heel caps on most of my good shoes. Just saying, if we want to regain and maintain our status as a world class institution, we need to think of these things.
The It’s Too Hot To Live Dress
Luckily, this year we have had a cooler summer than usual in the ‘[Berra. I say luckily, because, for me, summer is the worst time of year. I melt, literally, as soon as we climb past 28 degrees. I don’t know why – I guess I’m just a naturally warm blooded – but whilst I can tolerate winter comfortably with a good coat and a big scarf, I simply cannot deal with heat, and I find myself entering a state of complete discombobulation in December, only regaining complete use of my faculties in March. As the Dreamboat said the other week, without any tone of facetion, it’s too hot to live. Aside from trying to live when it’s simply too hot to, the matter of how to dress oneself when it’s boiling is another quest for Total Perfection I seem to be perpetually on. Summers past, I had a nice rotation of floral sundresses, with very daring necklines, which worked well and kept me moderately cool. However, I got sick of sunburnt cleavage – it’s almost as painful as a sunburnt bottom, the misfortune of which I have experienced (but that’s a post for another time). I also became concerned about the more serious impacts of sun exposure to my décolletage, tanned hide not being a look I am particularly keen on, at least outside of shoes and bags. So, this summer I’ve steered away from my flirty florals and towards a modified, sun safe (ish) too-hot-to-live-dress. Although it’s not totally perfect – it’s not as flattering or as flirty as I would like – and I have got a little bit over it in the last few days, it has seen me through the worst of the hot summer days that global warming will continue to inflict on us.
The Miss Honey
Just as Roald Dahl’s Miss Honey is the Platonic Ideal of teachers, I’ve titled my Platonic Ideal Teaching Dresses ‘Miss Honeys’. Since starting tutoring in July 2009, my ideas teaching outfit has been reworked and refined. I’ve now concluded that the best teaching outfits are based on a dress with the following features: A high (ish) neckline, a fitted bodice, a knee length fitted skirt OR an above the knee flared/pleased skirt. Additional features include the capacity for a top underneath and/or a cardigan over the top, belting optional, and colourful scarves, bags, and interesting jewellery a must. I have four dresses which are more or less perfect Miss Honeys, but, as always with Platonic Ideals, rotation and replacement is imperative. What I love about this particular way of dressing is that it is ‘on message’ – I’m friendly and approachable, but I take tutoring seriously – but it’s also very easy to wear. Because of the dress’ simplicity, there are minimal elements that can go wrong. And, when you are facing a class of twenty hostile and confused first years, or a lecture theatre of two hundred of the same, the less things that can go wrong, the better.
The Belt
I can’t really think of any superlatives for the belt – maybe because I can’t put my gratitude toward my collection of belts into words. Over time, they’ve moulded to the contours of my waist, and consequentially look a little worn and tired in these photographs. But, they still do the trick – of holding in place a blousy top, of showing the world that I have a shape, of reminding me by a little gentle pressure that perhaps I don’t need that third piece of cake with afternoon tea. One of the blessings of being an hourglass-y shape is that all you need to do with the vast majority of outfits is add a belt, preferably wide with a large buckle, at your waist, and you instantly look better. Kaftan? Add a belt. Skirt and Top? Add a Belt. Vintage Dress that’s a little too big? Add a belt. Daggy trackies and a hoodie? Add a belt – ok, maybe not in this instance, but I think you get my drift – there’s almost no silhouette problem that an artful belting can’t remedy.
The Black Cardigan
Like my Miss Honeys, the black cardigans in my life are what I turn to when I need something reliable – something reassuringly plain and simple, like a cup of English breakfast tea with a splash of milk. They’re never going to grab a headline, or be the feature of an outfit, but nothing works better to warm you up, or cover up some wobbly upper arms. Like so many of my Platonic Ideal collection, my current crop of black cardis is a little worse for repeated wear – my favourite one, a black wool v-neck Veronica Maine with tortishell buttons, has been carefully washed, darned and de-linted at the end of the last three autumns, ready for winter, but I think this year it will be retired back to the cave, provided, of course, that I can find something similarly ideal with which to replace it. Ah, the never ending quest for Total Perfection.
The Party Piece
Of course, I’m not always in the mood for something plain and reassuring like a black cardigan, or charmingly elegant and appropriate, like my Miss Honeys. Sometimes, the only way to go about getting dressed is to put on your devil-may-care boots, (literal or metaphorical) and get down with your bad self, even if you’re just catching the bus to the city to buy moisturiser and towels. On days like that, you need the Platonic Ideal Party Piece – a garment that crashes the party, chugs a bottle of champagne, and yet still charms the pants off everybody with her look at moi charm. Kitch, kooky and completely one-of a kind defines the ideal party piece for me. It’s probably for these reasons that many of my party pieces are vintage. A party piece is born, not made, and for these reasons you must always snap one up when you see it, no iffs, buts, or maybes.
Reader, there it is – a snapshot of my Platonic Ideal wardrobe. But, as always, the quest for Total Perfection is far from over, and I look forward to sharing with you, in the coming months, the search for the perfect boot, the perfect bra, and the perfect pair of old-fashioned stockings. Yes, the quest for Total Perfection is a long and arduous, but what is life without ideals?
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Days Off (Sort of…)
Looking at the calendars on the fridge this morning (thanks Gai Brodtman and The Sydney Morning Herald!), I realised it’s getting to that time of year where the year actually begins. We should scrap the idea of January One as the beginning of the year, for, in my town at least, the year doesn’t really kick off until after the last Australia/Hottest100/Invasion Day party on the 26th hurrahs its last hurrah. Most Canberrans, as I write, have either just got back, or are slowly making their way back, from the coast, from visiting the relations elsewhere, or from lazing in patches of cool with a good book… In shot, only now is the return to real life taking place.
Both fortunately and unfortunately, I’m not one of those people. The sweet, relentless tide of real life has continued to pull me along this summer. I had this idea that instead of taking a break in summer 2010/11, I’d do my PhD fieldwork. This would mean being able to continue to teach through 2011 without having to do the triple-juggling-act of PhD writing, teaching and time in the field. A time efficient decision, which will put me firmly on track with my thesis (theoretically at least). However, it effectively means, no holidays – by which I mean a stretch of time greater than 10 days in a row off, with no emails, no liaising with key stakeholders, no marking, and no talking or thinking about work – until June 2011.
Coupled with my fieldwork schedule, which requires me to suspend all premise of weekly and daily routine in order to gain a more comprehensive data set, and a batch of contract work marking first year essays, I think you can begin to understand why my regular Monday posting did not occur yesterday. I am discombobulated without my normal sense of the weekly rhythms.
So, whilst you’ve heard the disadvantages of a working summer in the last two paragraphs, I feel I must also tell you, and depict photographically, the advantages of an erratic and unpredictable schedule, and a lack of time off. Chiefly, that Tuesday mornings spent making jam, and writing out beloved recipes for beloved friends feels just like bliss. That is, before I get back in the saddle for some more fieldwork tonight!
Both fortunately and unfortunately, I’m not one of those people. The sweet, relentless tide of real life has continued to pull me along this summer. I had this idea that instead of taking a break in summer 2010/11, I’d do my PhD fieldwork. This would mean being able to continue to teach through 2011 without having to do the triple-juggling-act of PhD writing, teaching and time in the field. A time efficient decision, which will put me firmly on track with my thesis (theoretically at least). However, it effectively means, no holidays – by which I mean a stretch of time greater than 10 days in a row off, with no emails, no liaising with key stakeholders, no marking, and no talking or thinking about work – until June 2011.
Coupled with my fieldwork schedule, which requires me to suspend all premise of weekly and daily routine in order to gain a more comprehensive data set, and a batch of contract work marking first year essays, I think you can begin to understand why my regular Monday posting did not occur yesterday. I am discombobulated without my normal sense of the weekly rhythms.
So, whilst you’ve heard the disadvantages of a working summer in the last two paragraphs, I feel I must also tell you, and depict photographically, the advantages of an erratic and unpredictable schedule, and a lack of time off. Chiefly, that Tuesday mornings spent making jam, and writing out beloved recipes for beloved friends feels just like bliss. That is, before I get back in the saddle for some more fieldwork tonight!
Monday, December 6, 2010
It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas…
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas at chez Peggy. And I couldn’t be happier.
I think the only people who get more excited about Christmas than I are, in order, department store CEO’s, children under five, and mixed fruit manufactures.
If you, like the Dreamboat and several other people I could mention but won’t, don’t particularly get your knickers in a twist about the fact that it’s NOW ONLY NINETEEN DAYS TILL CHRISTMAS, I promise I won’t be striking you off my Christmas card list. I can see the logic in not being too keen on all the enforced jollity, relating to relatives you’d rather not be related to, and carpark traumas at every major shopping outlet in the ‘berra.
But then, when you really boil it down, the way we celebrate Christmas is about things that I fundamentally love: family, food and drink, shopping for gifts, and decorating. Topped off with a speech from a real live queen, as opposed to a drag one.
Yes, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year.
So, in this time of hustle and bustle, here are some musings from me on the things that I fundamentally love about Christmas, complete with pictures.
Family tops the list of things that make Christmas special for me. Going shopping with Papa-K for Mama-K’s Christmas presents and watching him agonise over what she would like best. Mama-K’s cooking – which, every year, she attempts to cut back on but actually ends up doing more of, because she can’t resist adding some new recipes to the Christmas classics.
Big Little brother and his lovely girlfriend’s early Christmas surprises, both of which are gracing my tree very handsomely. Little Little brother’s preferences for certain unorthodox Christmas gifts – he once bought me a blind spot mirror and a can of mushy peas. True story.
And then there’s the food. So much food. Food in amounts that at other times of the year would be considered obscene, but, for some strange reason, seems perfectly moderate at Christmas time. There are so many foods I could write about – stuffing, almond pears, trifle, prawns, oysters, rumballs…but I’ll pick my favourite Christmas food for sharing with you here. Christmas isn’t Christmas without shortbread.
It’s so simple, but somehow so satisfying, to see a little fleet of vintage shortbread tins (my packaging of choice this year) filled and ready to be gifted away.
Batches and batches of shortbread are made at Christmas time, to the point where I’m almost too sick of it to eat any – almost. One year I worked out I’d made nineteen batches…this year I think I’ll try and keep it to a more moderate fifteen. Although, with the help of a couple of mama-k’s particularly deadly Santa’s Little Helpers, the traditional family Christmas cocktail, I may become slightly more ambitious in my shortbread making. The dangers of the demon drink…
On to other addictions, Christmas is a time for shopping. Shopping with gay abandon. Shopping is something that I adore, but, as mentioned before on this blog, it’s something I have to be rather disciplined about, with the budgetary constraints common to all students. However, Christmas is a time to release all those pent up shopping urges that have been simmering away all year.
And the best bit is, no-one will think any less of you for shopping a lot at Christmas, because you’re not shopping for yourself, you’re shopping for gifts.
I may have to put a little boast in here: I’ve actually already done all of my shopping, except for perishables and a couple of small afterthougthy things. Some people would say that this is a symptom of being very organised: yes, that’s true. Mainly, though, starting shopping in October is a symptom of how much I enjoy it – by starting sooner, I can luxuriate in the pleasures of shopping for that little bit longer. Oh, and for those of you who hate shopping and can’t face the mall or the high street from Mid-November onwards? Go online. There are some fabulous sites – Nordic Fusion, Heart and Heim, and, of course, Etsy – where I have no doubt you’ll be able to locate that perfect gift without having to locate a carpark.
So, the family have been assembled, the menu decided, the presents shopped for and wrapped – now it’s time to decorate. I have a horrible feeling that one day, when I’m really old, I’ll live in a nice quiet cul de sac – AND DECK MY HOUSE OUT IN SO MANY FAIRY LIGHTS I CAUSE DAILY BLACKOUTS OF THE ENTIRE SUBURB. Just kidding...for the moment.
Christmas decorating is a whole lot of fun, and why restrict yourself to just a tree? With a little bit of invention, you can include (tasteful) touches of Christmas all around you. The apartment I live in, being so small, means that wherever you are, you can see the Christmas tree – but that still hasn’t stopped me from decorating the entrance way, the microwave, the bookshelf, and the window ledge above the sink. I wonder what Virginia Boots will say when she gets back from Melbourne?
In all seriousness, I will add a note of caution with Christmas decorating. Avoid further seasonal hassles by placing your decs in disused spaces around your home – tops of microwaves, bookshelves and window ledges are great for this reason. Mama-K once had the genius idea of hanging a series of red baubles from the door lintel. Ever single time I walked through the door, I copped a dong to the head. Not great, when coupled with the after-effects of a Santa’s Little Helper.
I think it’s going to be impossible to stop me from writing more about Christmas between now and the big day, but for now I’ll leave you with these above thoughts, and hope that you are enjoying your pre-christmassing as much as I am, and that you’re all looking Christmassy Fabulous.
I think the only people who get more excited about Christmas than I are, in order, department store CEO’s, children under five, and mixed fruit manufactures.
If you, like the Dreamboat and several other people I could mention but won’t, don’t particularly get your knickers in a twist about the fact that it’s NOW ONLY NINETEEN DAYS TILL CHRISTMAS, I promise I won’t be striking you off my Christmas card list. I can see the logic in not being too keen on all the enforced jollity, relating to relatives you’d rather not be related to, and carpark traumas at every major shopping outlet in the ‘berra.
But then, when you really boil it down, the way we celebrate Christmas is about things that I fundamentally love: family, food and drink, shopping for gifts, and decorating. Topped off with a speech from a real live queen, as opposed to a drag one.
Yes, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year.
So, in this time of hustle and bustle, here are some musings from me on the things that I fundamentally love about Christmas, complete with pictures.
Family tops the list of things that make Christmas special for me. Going shopping with Papa-K for Mama-K’s Christmas presents and watching him agonise over what she would like best. Mama-K’s cooking – which, every year, she attempts to cut back on but actually ends up doing more of, because she can’t resist adding some new recipes to the Christmas classics.
Big Little brother and his lovely girlfriend’s early Christmas surprises, both of which are gracing my tree very handsomely. Little Little brother’s preferences for certain unorthodox Christmas gifts – he once bought me a blind spot mirror and a can of mushy peas. True story.
And then there’s the food. So much food. Food in amounts that at other times of the year would be considered obscene, but, for some strange reason, seems perfectly moderate at Christmas time. There are so many foods I could write about – stuffing, almond pears, trifle, prawns, oysters, rumballs…but I’ll pick my favourite Christmas food for sharing with you here. Christmas isn’t Christmas without shortbread.
It’s so simple, but somehow so satisfying, to see a little fleet of vintage shortbread tins (my packaging of choice this year) filled and ready to be gifted away.
Batches and batches of shortbread are made at Christmas time, to the point where I’m almost too sick of it to eat any – almost. One year I worked out I’d made nineteen batches…this year I think I’ll try and keep it to a more moderate fifteen. Although, with the help of a couple of mama-k’s particularly deadly Santa’s Little Helpers, the traditional family Christmas cocktail, I may become slightly more ambitious in my shortbread making. The dangers of the demon drink…
On to other addictions, Christmas is a time for shopping. Shopping with gay abandon. Shopping is something that I adore, but, as mentioned before on this blog, it’s something I have to be rather disciplined about, with the budgetary constraints common to all students. However, Christmas is a time to release all those pent up shopping urges that have been simmering away all year.
And the best bit is, no-one will think any less of you for shopping a lot at Christmas, because you’re not shopping for yourself, you’re shopping for gifts.
I may have to put a little boast in here: I’ve actually already done all of my shopping, except for perishables and a couple of small afterthougthy things. Some people would say that this is a symptom of being very organised: yes, that’s true. Mainly, though, starting shopping in October is a symptom of how much I enjoy it – by starting sooner, I can luxuriate in the pleasures of shopping for that little bit longer. Oh, and for those of you who hate shopping and can’t face the mall or the high street from Mid-November onwards? Go online. There are some fabulous sites – Nordic Fusion, Heart and Heim, and, of course, Etsy – where I have no doubt you’ll be able to locate that perfect gift without having to locate a carpark.
So, the family have been assembled, the menu decided, the presents shopped for and wrapped – now it’s time to decorate. I have a horrible feeling that one day, when I’m really old, I’ll live in a nice quiet cul de sac – AND DECK MY HOUSE OUT IN SO MANY FAIRY LIGHTS I CAUSE DAILY BLACKOUTS OF THE ENTIRE SUBURB. Just kidding...for the moment.
Christmas decorating is a whole lot of fun, and why restrict yourself to just a tree? With a little bit of invention, you can include (tasteful) touches of Christmas all around you. The apartment I live in, being so small, means that wherever you are, you can see the Christmas tree – but that still hasn’t stopped me from decorating the entrance way, the microwave, the bookshelf, and the window ledge above the sink. I wonder what Virginia Boots will say when she gets back from Melbourne?
In all seriousness, I will add a note of caution with Christmas decorating. Avoid further seasonal hassles by placing your decs in disused spaces around your home – tops of microwaves, bookshelves and window ledges are great for this reason. Mama-K once had the genius idea of hanging a series of red baubles from the door lintel. Ever single time I walked through the door, I copped a dong to the head. Not great, when coupled with the after-effects of a Santa’s Little Helper.
I think it’s going to be impossible to stop me from writing more about Christmas between now and the big day, but for now I’ll leave you with these above thoughts, and hope that you are enjoying your pre-christmassing as much as I am, and that you’re all looking Christmassy Fabulous.
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