On "downsizing wardrobes".

In spite of a self-imposed shopping moratorium (sharpened by constrained storage space and a severely limited budget) and reading much self-congratulatory blogging around "DECLUTTER YOUR WARDROBE NOW AND REAP THE BENEFITS, YOU FILTHY HOARDING SPACE-HOG", I still have a lot of clothes, shoes and accessories.  I instantly dismiss the people who write 'oh, well, it's easy, you just throw out anything you haven't worn for a year / 6months / since last winter / 3 weeks ago.'  I mean, do these people not purchase anything of VALUE? Vintage clothes? Things inherited from beloved stylish grandparent? The dress-that-never-goes-out-of-style and that makes them look like a coquettish vixen when they've got back into their fitness program? Sigh.  So, in the absence of any advice that appears to be from anyone who knows about Proper Clothes or Fun, I ignored their tedious, insensitive words, and just kept almost everything.

For the record, I kept it all because:
(1) I rarely spend money on clothes lightly, it has to be beautiful or workable in some way first for me to be interested.

(2) I detest supporting that short-turnaround fashion cycle which creates huge, disgusting amounts of waste in the textile industry and perpetuates sweat-shop labour

(3) A lot of this is vintage clothing or good quality items which I bought on sale - and could not have afforded otherwise.

Then in another well-meaning foray into the world of Wardobe Downsizing, I discovered a kindred spirit when I came across this comment on a blog called Small Notebook:

I used to be a personal stylist and I LOVE clothes. I have been the same size since high school (I haven’t had kids and likely will not have them in the future) so that does help. however, I own a ton of clothes. As in, soooo many but I realized that they make me happy! Not in an eternal way (Jesus does that), but they are fun for me. I used to feel guilty about them but then I realized that people who own a huge personal library don’t feel guilty for owning so many books, or someone with an art collection doesn’t feel guilty buying another painting, and my grandma who grows a bazillion varieties of dahlias every year doesn’t feel guilty for owning more varieties than she “needs” so why should I feel guilty? Everything I have I love and I agree fit is the MOST IMPORTANT part. So, my take on wardrobe is different, but works for me. (Anna)

THIS is what I am talking about. It's OK to collect books...art...music...tribal totems...tattoos...broken hearts...but not excellent clothes? Sez who?

Then the pendulum swings the other way and I think, My God, what if I were one of those people who was happy with an all-black wardrobe of eight items (or whatever)? One flat shoes and one high heels, one skirt, one opera trousers (as I call them), one jeans? One cashmere cardigan, one winter coat, one multi-fit dress, like this one that I still have a crush on? I think I secretly want to be minimalist but the textiles and colour fiend in me makes me rebel instantly.

As I am at art school now, rather than in a conservative corporate environment, the options for dressing more outrageously for the day have multiplied. (However men in an engineering office are hotter, plus, I mean, there are actually men there, unlike art school: almost all women.) But at the same time, it takes longer to choose an outfit. [This belt? Or this one? Which coat? I'm just not feeling the  whole sunshine yellow thing after all today....maybe green dress with tribal thing? Cripes, not with that ass. Or the vintage Harry Who skirt? Oh fuq it, where are my jeans, I am going to be late. NO! you are not wearing jeans! Wear the thing with that other thing and the pink socks, bring this jumper, and slap anyone who laughs. And next time, choose your clothes the night before, like you used to when you were organised, remember that time?].

And going through a Fat Phase - although now on a moderate fitness thing - some of my clothes just take one look at me and start laughing helplessly. It's the size range that gets me. I swing across about 3 clothes sizes in the space of two years. Fit, unfit, fit, unfit, heartbreak, thin, etc. Ugh.  

the only things that I truly can be OK about donating to charity are clothes that I have never, ever worn - for YEARS - and which are officially now and forever two sizes too small, and I know someone else will love them and give them a good home.

There's more, but that's for another update sometime..

Cloth and Buddhism

"...There are also several less-known forms of quilting that were traditionally done in Japan and that are associated with Buddhism.  Quilting was done to make the type of priest's surplice known as a funzoe (rag patchwork) that was layered and quilted. The funzoe was thought to embody important Buddhist teachings.  It was made from scraps of old clothes donated by parishioners.  The monks would gather the rags, wash and cut them, then layer the pieces and put in beautiful stitchwork over the entire surface. The surplice was worn hanging diagonally from the shoulder, over a monk's robe, and it had two religious meanings. First, retrieving the rags from the dustbin and allowing them to end up in a place of honour signified that the cloth itself had attained Buddahood. Second, the practice suggested the interconnectedness of all human beings. "

Yoshiko Jinzenji, 2002, Quilt Artistry - Inspired designs from the East. Kodansha International Ltd, Japan. Page 32

Leather, Pt. I

I am a gigantic fan of good craftsmanship:

Food

Here's what else I haven't been buying very much of at all: Take away food, dine-in food, snacks, treats, junk food, odds and ends.

This stuff is expensive and devours your budget - where I once might have spent fast cash on a Saturday brunch, a few coffees and sandwiches (fyi: UNSW offers no on-campus considerations for student budgets - I can get cheaper food in the middle of Balmain... what?), going out for noodles or dumplings, decent bottle of wine, maybe a book, splurge on a few drinks and a bite to eat with friends... how about an interesting magazine or that new t-shirt: Now with an ultra-restricted fortnightly budget (and I'm more or less keeping up with child sponsorship) .... the louche "ohh hahaha, look at me spending my salary having fun, la la la!"   becomes:

- reading textbooks (easy when you study interesting things) and working on assignments
- raiding home bookshelves (also easy when rest of family are avid readers) or sharing with friends
- barely drinking any alcohol
- drinking less coffee
- not buying snacks, takeaway food, and instead waiting til I get home to eat
- rationing out the tasty things in the cupboard because that's all I have for 8 days.
- cooking properly with cheap food: legumes and pulses (just like the food pyramid says), fresh in-season vegies from the local market stall: Their stuff is fresher, local, cheaper, and profits go directly to the grower.
- proper cooking also means greater satisfaction at dinner time = eating less = leftovers for lunch and post-uni famished fridge raids.
Also, public transport everywhere - fuel is expensive, parking on campus is "what parking?!" - so much walking.  (I am a bit chicken about riding my bike across the city, something about being drenched in sweat as I walk into a lecture for a whole day on campus and/or ending up underneath the wheels of an irate cycle-hating road-rager sort of doesn't appeal to me.)

All of these things might seem obvious to some, and they are, but when you're used to a regular salary and not a habitual saver, overcoming several bad financial habits takes work.

What stays?  Well, the Badge Draw at the local is now at a $1200 jackpot - this is three Austudy payments so I see a quiet middy as a reasonable investment when I duck up to the pub those nights.

Pho for less than $10, or maybe long soup with dumplings in chinatown - also stays.  Or two or three $3 plates at the sushi train in Galeries Vic.  But even these treats are a once-fortnightly event.

I tell you what, my social life is suffering - ok, whatever, I've had my fun - but this really is good for the waistline.

Soon I will fit back into the clothes I grew out of, generating yet more realised savings in terms of money I don't need to spend on new clothes to fit my once-fat-ass.

Re-learning some good lessons here after a few years of profligacy on a slightly-above-average salary.  Fiscal responsibility is not just the domain of Wayne Swan or the IMF: reality begins at home.

Didn't Buy: Official List #1

I humbly present this week's "Didn't Buy" in list format.

1. Chocolate.

2. Pastries from Adriano Zumbo, for breakfast before a full day on campus. Technically, under these circumstances, purchase of the creme citron Sugar Lips would be entirely justified.  But I had $3.80 in my wallet to last me indefinitely: so no dice.

3. Anything containing Shocking Pink, Fuschia, Hot Pink. (Or violet.)  But mind you I did look at an awful lot of it....I thank Paris for several years ago renewing my relationship with the colour pink. And cleavage, too, but that's another post. Oh and not to mention Elsa Schiaparelli (fashion idol alert).

4. Red Patent Leather Shoes.

5. A pretty lace party dress the colour of mermaids' eyes and the tropical sea.  Another one the colour of passion, blood, and warning signs.  Things made by the label Velvet.

6. Bejewelled earrings that looked like a circus version of a cart-wheel, or a sparkling rainbow Wheel of Fortune.

7. Lunch at Bacco - because my friend Paul paid for that. (Thanks, Paul!)  Incidentally, if you're stuck at the Queen Victoria Building waiting in a 1km-long line for the bus and it's 6pm and freezing cold - or boiling hot - and you are slowly being asphyxiated by the exhaust fumes from the peak-hour bus-jam, then turn around, go up the stairs to QVB's Level 2, and find Bacco in the middle of the building.  Order a glass of wine and some cheese.  Relax, and think of the suckers downstairs scrambling over elderly women and tired-looking office workers to get on the bus, only to have to stand up clinging to a distant handrail while the driver relives his years as a would-be demolition derby winner, except this time he's driving a bus loaded with passengers!  Oh and the waiters at Bacco are Italian (obviously) and charmingly cute too! In conclusion, you win.

7a. (Addendum.) If the Queen Vic Building isn't your thing and you're still considering walking home rather than wait for the next bus, then definitely go to Devine. Everyone knows it yes, it's been there forever, but Andreas - the Austrian guy with the pony tail - and his people are extremely cool and friendly and you will drink amazing wine and eat tasty snacks and look at nice-looking people and be warm and not be waiting in a forever-long line for the bus.

I did however, shop my stash of clothes at home, and I am yet to determine if that sort of thing is even bloggable any more.

Thus concludes this meandering list, which I may edit from time to time.

Hot Guy Hot Spots - Australian Edition

Preamble: This post isn't so much about not buying stuff, but about having some righteous eye candy while you perhaps, in fact, are buying stuff. 

This is a first pass attempt to classify Australia's hot-guy hot-spots.  Fellas, we just like you so much :) 

So, we're not about to launch into a conversation with the Hot Guy(s) about Wittgenstein or Rio +20 here (BUT omg wouldn't it be brilliant if you could have both brain-candy and eye candy!), nor are we interested in knuckle-dragging types who haven't yet learnt to at least pretend they aren't interested in your tits above all else. We're just looking for some easy-on-the-eye types and a tantalising hint of testosterone in the air while we go about our daily business.

1. Hamburger joints.  McDonalds or Hungry Jacks? Nooooooo.  I mean other places like Grill'd, or benbry Burgers (in Manly etc...yes Manly does live up to its name).  There's always a couple of good lookin' guys in there feasting on something tasty and masculine.  And the kinds of women who go to places like this aren't those hyper-competitive sorts who you can feel burning laser holes in your T-shirt as they critique / stare at your backside on your way past while they decide you are a lower life form / pretend that you are in order to nurture their own insecurities. Nooo. The girls who come here are generally upstanding members of the sisterhood.

2. Guys who work in the "small bars" that are finally emerging with a vengeance in Sydney. All. Cute.  

2a. Baristas. Invariably cute, BUT only if they make good coffee.  Bad Coffee = your whole day is wrecked.  Anyone who wrecks your day is NOT cute. Nor Hot. With one exception; they wreck it by being so hot you are distracted for the rest of the afternoon daydreaming about how goddamn hot that new barista is and thrilled that you have a hot New Flirting Object (NFO).

3. Photography classes, Film Studies.  Guys who are into this stuff are both cool and hot.

4. The Engineering faculty of any university. (FYI, they're mostly outdoorsy types: See items 5-7.)

5. Any surf beach (when there are waves).

6. Ski-fields and then the bar which has the best apres-ski deals

7. Indoor climbing walls, or actual rock climbing - but climbing walls have a greater density of Hot Guys.

9. Bookshops.  Libraries (specifically, the State Library in Melbourne).  Oh, yes.  Men Who Read Books? Outrageously sexy.  My personal guidelines about men who own fewer than 10 books are that you can sleep with them, but don't start a relationship with them.  Your brain will suffer.  Sorry, but it's true if you value literacy / fresh conversation and want something beyond food and sex (not that there's anything wrong with that).  The only possible loophole here is if he owns a second hand book shop and his literature is on high rotation, or he is on first name terms with the staff at the local library. 

8. Any decent pub. Pubs can be a bit iffy, as they attract their fair share of men who could really do with a few less beers and a few more daily 5km power walks, plus your average chauvinistic pigs, so you have to go to pubs in an area with the right demographics (besides, pigs in sheeps clothing are more or less present wherever you go; it's just the density you have to keep an eye on).  The chances that a pub will be 'decent' decreases in exponential proportion to the number of poker machines in operation at the venue.  The inverse applies if there are pinball machines.  Student pubs, even better.  Any pub near a beach, snowfield, or other adrenaline-based playground will probably yield hotties. 

9. Music shops - alas, not CD stores, mostly because they no longer exist - although you could definitely try places that sell vinyl.  I mean places that sell actual musical instruments.  Go in and mess around on the keyboards or try out a guitar.  Guaranteed that a totally sexy talented musician type will come to your assistance.  e.g. Big Music in Crows Nest, Sydney.

10. Gigs and music festivals, obviously.  But often all jumbled up with hot women.  This isn't necessarily a bad thing.  

11.  Politics lectures. Definitely.  Educated, politically aware, AND hot, in a cute just-woke-up-and-ran-to-my-lecture kind of way.  Bed hair on politics student hottie who works as a personal trainer  in his spare time: add a big fat HIGH DISTINCTION.

Obviously, further suggestions are welcome.  Other cities, other venues. Contribute to the Eye Candy Library today! Here's looking at you, boys! ;)

Customer Repellent

An excellent way to keep customers out of your store is to play awful music.  Today's example: an elevator-music interpretation of Puccini's expansive, joyous Nessun Dorma from the opera Turandot... you know, the solo that the tenor Luciano Pavarotti (RIP) made famous a while ago.  As musak. I turned and ran.