Thursday, November 27, 2008


Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. I finally got a new job. It was really awesome, I definitely made the right choice in leaving my old one. I am actually being hired by the same company, but it is at a different store. They were actually scrambling to have me and offered me a competitive wage (a whole $1.50 more than my last) and a better position and environment. Now I can finally spend again!!!
To celebrate, I bought two pairs of shoes and put these sandals on as soon as I got home.
The second pair are from Top shop!!! I bought them at the shoe warehouse we have over here. We don't have top shop here so it's sort of weird that they stock them.

Curly Hair

It's hard to be a redhead in this day and age. Selina spoke out against this once and I feel like it's a post that every redhead needs to do at some stage.

I have by no means had as much trouble as she had. It wasn't until I was about 12 or 13 that people bullied me specifically because of my hair colour, but I was always thought of as different or strange before that. It didn't help that I was a very strong child and determined not to bend or to conform.

But specifically in the first years of high school I was taunted and shouted at. "Ginger" is a very common insult here and now even when people use it very casually I can't really stand it. It's really stupid how it works. They shout at you "Ginger" as you walk past, as if you don't realise your own colour of your hair, as if it's some kind of insult to the human race that you don't try and cover it with hair dye or just scurry into a hole and pretend you don't exist.

It is no better than racism in my opinion, and it lead me to feel uncomfortable about myself. I did not feel that I was ugly, I always knew that they were stupid and infantile and immature, but all bullying leaves its mark. I will never feel normal. I will always be different, independent, separate. However, it's almost nicer that way. I knew that they boy I would find would be perfect. He would love me for what I was and appreciate me, whilst the rest of my peer group kissed frog after frog and were left with nothing. It has also lead me down the track away from vanity in a lot of respects. I would not have excelled so much academically otherwise, perhaps.

Of course it was not as bad for me and it is for Selina. The prejudice against redheads only really exists in a certain age group, those that are beginning high school and incredibly insecure in themselves. Now, if I ever hear it, I actually laugh at the little dweebs. Despite what they may think, from everyone elses' point of view, they are so very not cool.

Really what got me thinking about this is how my hair is curly, and how for so many years I have straightened it obsessively because it really does look more sleek and more fashionable. The 2000s really, really do not appreciate natural curls.

However, recently, I have come to really enjoy letting my hair run wild. Sometimes I even leave my fringe alone (even in these pictures my fringe is strengthened, it's usually just tiny ringlets above my forehead). I sort of feel like it's beautiful in my own way and I really like that, because it means that I have truly accepted the true red head that I am.

Sunday, November 23, 2008


I tried my sheer dress over these shorts today but it didn't really work that well. I think I need a different top or more layers. Perhaps i need to wait till it gets a bit colder. These Doc Martens would probably also look better with some coloured socks that bring out the colours a bit better. Sorry about the frowns.
Here is a pretty picture of Lake Daniels in the south island of New Zealand. This is where I did my tramp, and I may try and paint this.

Thursday, November 20, 2008


Took these late at night as I have been working all day. Last day of work ever at that infernal place ever! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee.
I am going tramping tomorrow for three days so blog will be stagnant..

One thing I have been channeling a lot the last few months is a sort of sexy librarian look. I guess it is because I found this lovely shirt which I have fallen in love with. It is very silky and has a floral pattern on pink, outlined by a soft grey. I found this quilt last weekend and even though the colours don't really match that well, they have been begging me to introduce them to each other. Young love *sigh*. It didn't quite work, but when I added this chemise the colours blend together much better.

Another thing I have notices is that I keep recreating Luella spring/summer 2008 (I think it know the one with all the frilly floral and bat man prints?). I guess it is because New Zealand is a little slow and it is finally coating our stores.
But it is such an easy outfit to do. Who doesn't like frills and floral? Well maybe some people don't, but it pretty much has me all over it. And then with the geek glasses and the lace up boots (in my case floral doc martens)! Sometimes I feel I will never grow tired of it, yet at the same time it's almost embarrassing to admit I still wear it. Why is that? Is it because there are thousands of copycats out there who don't even realise where it's from? I guess that's it. It seems stupid to let a bunch of fashion sheep ruin it for us, but we do it time and time again. Oh to be truly autonomous!

Tuesday, November 18, 2008


Our new sewing machine arrived! It's excellent, never realised how hard it has to sew on our last one, until we got this beauty. It even threads the needle itself.
I am sewing a really pretty dress in, which I might add some red tulle to.
Almost in ceremony, I dragged out a dress I made about this time last year. I love it and it took me forever. I don't really wear it enough, considering.

I can't wait till my hair grows. It is so thick and stiff at the moment. I want it to be long again.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008


I found this on CollegeHumour

While my mother was looking over my shoulder an an AIM conversation:
Mom: "What does LMAO mean?"
Me: "It's an abbreviation"
Mom: "Let's Make An Omelette?"

Monday, November 10, 2008


Gosh, how did it become six days since I posted?
Time does fly fast when you have a blog and are as inconsiderately lazy as I am.
I could lie and say that I have been working excessively hard on the novel and haven't had time to work on my style, but style is effortless, non?
Well it's not really that effortless when you don't get out of bed till 11 and just hang around the house most of the day, chewing on bits of burnt toast and watching daytime TV like Tyra (hey, don't look at me like that, it makes me feel better about my life).
Also I am about 4,000 words behind...but yay I hit the 14,000 mark!

I did wear an alright outfit today, but sadly the batteries on my camera have died :(. Yes, I know, I told you this weeks ago and I still haven't fixed the problem. I also spent all my money on secondhand clothes and couldn't afford them. *Cried pitifully*. OK I bought McDonald's too. I am not just lazy, I am a consumer whore too.

Well, as ostentatious as I am, I will fill up this post, not with photos but (shock horror) writing. One of my passions is for fashions (mmm gotta love that rhyming), but another is writing. Here is the first page/section of my novel:

This story begins in the town of Hampton, the southern most town in all the world. At the bottom of New Zealand the wild Antarctic breeze blew through the streets a feeling of brooding possibility. I came to Hampton as a small boy, stocky and timid in form and personality, sent by my parents further south for the benefit of my health in a colder climate. I stayed with my Auntie and Uncle in a small, ugly but modern house on the shores of the sea. Out my window was a view of gaping solitude, as the freezing New Zealand waters broke quickly onto the golden sands. Hampton, compared to my former experience, was a stuffy and slow town.The families that lived there had lived many generations in seclusion from the modern world, and had slowly built on their caricatures without the binds of public scrutiny. This was mainly to do with the isolation that prevailed the town. They were further south than anybody cared to go, and lack of need or want meant their roads had never been sealed. My relative’s house was an elderly person’s house. It smelled of anesthetic and cream corn. I spent most of my days reading the long boring books they kept in her bookcases and counting the pattern on the wallpaper. At first, the town served as no entertainment to my young and inquisitive mind, that was until I found the Walkers.

Every town has their odd balls, those that are not different, but perhaps more extreme than the rest. Hampton had the Walkers.

Their property sat high above the rest of Hampton on a low hill that stopped before the centre of the town. The other houses still carried a hint of the world around Hampton, whether it was in the standards of their keep or the materials used in construction. Aluminum windows glittered in the harsh light and grasses lay clipped and watered like a welcome mat at the front of each door. The Walker’s house stood out like a sore thumb. It looked thrown together, as if somebody had added each room as an after thought and then given up on the place entirely. As a result, it sunk into the earth, and became an extension to the life forms around it. On the slope behind the house, perhaps the oddest of it all, lay five bold letters, defined by the growth of large, thick hedges. C.H.A.S.E.

Many speculated at the meaning of the word that hovered above the town and the lives of Hampton.

“Chase what? Rabbits?” my Aunt joked satirically, but the house and the word became a point of fascination for me. I became determined to investigate.

I’m am embarrassed to admit that this soon took the form of spying on the Walker children. They were of my age and like nothing I had ever seen. My lack of courage and character disenabled me to be proper, and at any rate, I never thought it would transpire that we were to become friends. There were three older brothers, Dean, Phillip and Cameron. Though they all looked amazingly alike, their personalities were so distinct that I soon became familiar with each of them.



Tuesday, November 4, 2008


I found red lipstick that suits me! Still haven't found an occasion to wear it. It's a little more brown/orangy than your ordinary red lipstick, but whenever I put ordinary red lipstick on it looks pink, or bluish. I guess it's about finding the one that looks red next to your skin tone.

I went op shopping yesterday and found this fabulous sequined bag and lace skirt (which I am wearing over my sparkly floral skirt in this picture. It's too cold and wet to take photos outside so sorry if they are a bit dark. I also got this fabulous, white, studded belt which wraps around me twice. I'm not really into white belts, but this one works.Jacket: Workshop Denim
Tshirt: Warehouse
Underskirt: Homemade
Overskirt: thrifted
Boots: Doc Martens

Saturday, November 1, 2008


One of my friends and I had this conversation a few weeks ago about how we could never wear black skillfully because we do not have any amazing black clothes. That is until I got this skirt:
It is so fantastic. I realise it has actually been ages since I have had a working mini. It makes me think back to a few years ago when i had the most fantastic little green tartan skirt, not a lot unlike this. I never realised, but I often repeat the same outfits and shapes just with different finds. Back then, I used to wear it with a denim jacket, a green soft jersey and my black, 14 hole doc martens. This is not unlike that. I guess we get to know what shapes suit us.

P.s I am writing a novel! It is so exciting and fun. I am already 5 pages into it. First day. I am doing the national book writing month. You write a book in a month and it is meant to encourage you not to self edit too much. Check out this site for more information: