Wednesday, 30 November 2011
It was a while ago but better late then never I guess. So I want to talk to you (or more so word with you) about the wonderful event that graced little Brisbane. The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh came to visit our shores. Now, if you are a regular you’ll know that I love the monarch and all things British and I adore the ties we have. All this talk of becoming a republic scares me - why fix something that isn’t broken?
But after that day I starting believing the majority of Australians don’t mind being a Commonwealth. I came home that day feeling highly affected by the scorching sun but more so feeling a sense of national pride and international relations. All was well in my world. So as I bared the heat in my royal best and impractical shoes (picked so I could see above the crowd…mistake) and observed the huge numbers waiting for a glimpse of the one and only rather important little old lady I loved every minute. You could feel the excitement in the air, people don’t come to get sunburned if they don’t like the person they are seeing – they come because they care. Because no matter what some say we Australians still have some kind of pull towards the British royal family. There is something unique about them, something untouchable and appealing and it is this that was filling the atmosphere. This yearning to see something that has seen it all – a world war, dozens of new parliaments, famine, riots, economic plight, more wars – she’s such a little lady with such a big knowledge of the world.
Then there was dear old Prince Phillip – that crazy uncle, that embarrassing dad, that silly grandfather. He performs his duties with such grace and support – the Queen would be lost without him. There he was with his trusty panama and suit, fit as a fiddle; waving, smiling and stopping for a chat, picking up flowers from little girls in their dresses, even spotting some to come in front of the barriers to greet the Queen themselves. It was all rather magical. And although I saw a very small profile and only the tops of their heads – it didn’t matter. I was there, I was in their presence and I soaked in all the feeling of the day.
What I love most about it – is the attire of the crowd. A day where laid back Brisbanites take out that special little outfit reserved for such special occasions. Little girls in their finest dresses, some complete with Sunday best hats and all clutching their flowers just hoping her majesty will notice them. British expats feeling at home again, young people dressed in union jacks, the elderly waving that iconic flag and women and men equally sharing this moment. Here are some pics from the day:
This is just gorgeous. A little girl trying her very hardest to soar above the crowd.
Even the true blue tradies stopped their work just for a glimpse. Or just any excuse for a break...
Can you see her... that little tiny thing in the top left corner wearing the pastel green hat. But I love this photo for the Aussie flag - ever so patriotic!
It felt like a wonderful world and one I’m so very happy to live in.
Check back in 2 days time for I’ll be showcasing my very own wardrobe favourites. ooo the suspense!
Monday, 28 November 2011
I know I'm not a personal style blog but today it seemed fitting to share with you my recent purchases of the festive season. I know, Christmas is all about giving (don't worry; a chrissy blog will be imminent) but sometimes a girl just needs to treat herself to a little glitter.
Thanks to some pretty awesome connections I am now the proud owner of two new pairs of sublimely beautiful sunglasses at a steel of a dollar sign!
I cannot go past the beauty and design of sunnies - and they are obviously a necessity in this harsh and scorching Australian sun. So why resist. Pretty sure that would be detrimental to the safety and well being of my eyes. And, let us not forget my Asian gene forbids me to say no to a bargain.
There is something mysteriously alluring about Ray Bans - the label, the brand, the history and the icon. So I succumbed to the magic that is the Ray Ban clubmasters. I know, they are nothing new, but they are timeless and the ultimate label in style - a must for any fashionista - that can pull them off ;) And now, little me has a pair; and boy is she happy.
How can you ever say no to the world of Prada? Obviously my rhetorical question answers the next - yes, my disgusting materialistic devil came out to play and off I went with yet another overpriced item to add to my plethora of overpriced items. Here she is in all her glory - the fine Italian craftsmanship, those five capital letters engraved with such care along the arms and that feeling of opulence as you look upon a mirror. Let your eyes be delighted -
I have just been to a journalism conference and I learnt how vital it is to be a regular blogger. So, I am going to do my utmost best - strap yourselves in because little Papilio will (for the next 3 weeks) be posting a new entry every 2 days. I know, I'm placing a lot of pressure on myself but I am determined to keep this vow - after all it is the festive season!
Again, I do warn you it will be a mix of fashion commentary, street style, eclectic thoughts and absolute nonsense.
Sorry about the lack of Street style photos - finding the time to romp around the place has been a little difficult but this WILL happen, even if it means endlessly prostituting my small amount of free time to my camera.
I'll be in two!
Friday, 25 November 2011
…Yes, there is such a thing. I have shunned the chain stores and I have succumbed to the wonderful but exorbitantly overpriced world of designer labels.
It is getting a little out of hand – I’m losing all self control – I have fallen to the great industry that is fashion! I used to be reasonable – but I have tasted – or more accurately felt the difference. I have been exposed to the quality of Marc Jacobs, the finesse of Chloe and the allure of Burberry, the craftsmanship of Collette Dinnigan, the history of Tiffanys and let us not forget the wonderful world of luxury online shopping.
The temptation is getting stronger and the will power is almost non existent.
I can’t give it up and it scares me; it terrifies me.
I haven’t stepped into a chain store and purchased something in a very long time and it is really beginning to fatigue the wallet.
In terms of shopping status – I am definitely living above my means. I don’t mean to say I’m as shocking as Confessions of a Shopaholic – I will never allow myself to fall into the trap of a dozen credit cards. The day I start using one credit card to pay off another is the day I need to turn around, slap myself, lock myself inside a room and throw away the key. I like to think I’m pretty sensible when it comes to shopping – I just indulge here and there – a little pick me up to get me through the week. I don’t have much in life and shops have never really hurt me, so let it be my weakness.
Yeah, I sound pretty dangerous but aren’t we all. We all choose to spend money somewhere, whether it be a lot or a little. We all place some type of material good, experience or need above another. Some choose to take their wallet for a hefty drink or two, a wild night out and a round of shots for all, others swipe their cards for electronic goods, the latest in technology or stylish furniture. Selfless people prefer to spend their well earned money on gifts for loved ones and others save for a trip around the world and a basket full of experiences. The rare few don’t even spend at all, they save save save for a rainy day – you might call these people the sensible ones, the one’s that have it right, but I’m sadly no angel.
For me, like many others I choose to sign my name off to Marc, Collette and Chloe, maybe one day to Louis, Karl, Christian and Alexander. My greatest pleasure – shopping overseas! There is something even more magical about it. The promise of new stores, of more bargains and the feeling you get when you return home with your new wardrobe, the utterly snobbish air you get when you reply with “oh this, I bought it in Europe” (hating yourself afterwards), the feeling that what you are wearing is somehow slightly better than the rest (even though it isn’t). But that overseas dress, that bag from London – they come with more than just prettiness and compliments; they come with fond memories and lasting experiences. When you don that special little item you bought at a steel in Rome you are transported back to that very moment and you remember the city, the people, the food and the smells.
So yes. I choose to waste away my money to fashion houses that do not need my cash and yes, I choose to pass over $1000s to travel agents for overseas adventures because that is my preference, that is what I want in life.
We are all different, but we all have some preference on how we spend our money. So please do not judge me for being superficial or maybe even a little irresponsible.
Either way, it’s a little too late! Sorry soul. You officially belong to designer labels and international airports.
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
I didn’t realise it until I saw it. I didn’t know the feeling of pure excitement until my eyes gazed at its’ shiny new walls. I didn’t know how beautiful it really was.
I wasn’t really that excited – a new store, another place where my dreams can muster in a pool of jealousy, price tags with way too many 0s, luxury material I can only dream of, service with a capital S. But, I found myself caught up when I saw the word, when the bright florescent lights shone metres in front of me. As I walked passed I allowed my fingers to glide across the six letter word surrounding the walls of this new haven, I couldn’t believe the emotions it stirred.
The Chanel store in Brisbane is open! How strange it felt when I saw the place for the first time – it isn’t even one of my favourite luxury brands (due to my slight negativity towards the French). And yet, there I was imaging a time I could walk into that store, breathe in the smell of money and walk out with an iconic bag worth more than my entire life savings.
I realised in that moment – shops, shopping and spending is somehow my ultimate love. It never fails to cheer me up. My heart starts pumping and my feet start walking with pure elation, my eyes are spoilt for choice as they covet dresses out of my means and my wallet begins to fatigue with excess use – it is where I belong. Give me a shopping mall any day I will be more then content. Who says material goods can’t buy you happiness – I’m pretty sure it paints a smile across my face. I’m pretty sure any negative emotions are relinquished when I wear a new dress, I’m pretty sure happiness is in the air when I gaze lovingly into my wardrobe and I’m pretty damn sure materialism is somehow my calling in life. Not the most worthy of callings but it somehow feels right. I don’t think I’m ever going to grow out of shopping in any form – window, excess, online, auction, gift, pleasure, therapy and companion. Yes, there is companion shopping – aka shopping with a friend. That way you don’t feel as guilty, for another is spending cash – this can of course result in high sums of payment and withdrawal but it’s worth all that fun.
I know, I often find myself hating how very materialistic I can be, I find it repulsive, selfish and utterly wasteful at times but I return to it each and every time like a girl who cannot get enough of a broken heart. And every time I do I love it, I relish and bathe wantonly in it, I am guilty of sin and I love it. I thrive on shops, I get energy and inspiration from clothes and I am uplifted by wonderful customer service.
Shops, boutiques, all kinds of glittering malls – they are my calling card, my mecca, my paradise, my heaven, my love, my friend and my foe. They are my happy place, my teddy bear, my soft linen sheets, my edelweiss. They are a warm hug, a caring glance, a meaningful conversation and a wickedly intense embrace.
I might be going to hell but at least I’ll be going in my ostentatious Sunday best.