For the men who can finally rid themselves of the dragons.
Kaye
At dawn she finds me
Floating in a dark ocean
The heat curling from my toes
The cool rivulets running across my chest
She asks
Why am I in the bath at dawn
She forgets
About a time in the night
When she told me I was filth
When she spat words on me
And the ice whispers singed my skin
The hate floats on the surface
An oil slick of grime and patronising spit
She kneels and drags her fingers through the oil
I watch
The hand slip across my leg
And its wake of contradiction
She asks
Why I take her hand from the water
And hold it to the cool
To wash her free
From the excess of my body
Filled with lust. And my disgust
She knows
I am protecting her from herself.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
On being 'Outdoorsy'
.
Something quite unusual has happened in the past year, and I’ve suddenly picked up on it after returning from the weekends’ hike.
As my life gets more and more crazy, my desire for simple pleasures gets greater and greater. The more I work 12 hour days, study till dawn, and take on freelancing modelling & design projects on the side, the more I want silence. Normal right? Sure. But where do I find it? 3 hours drive plus 9 hours/25 kilometres of hiking away!
I remember always camping as a kid. Mum and Dad would spend a few days packing up the 4WD, then we’d roll (in convoy with other families, or on our own) to the varying reaches of Western Australia; Augusta, Albany, Kalbarri, Pemberton, Denmark, Lancelin, Dongara, Binningup, Payne’s Find, Coral Bay, Exmouth, Monkey Mia, Geraldton, Shark Bay…. and all the little towns in between. The car would be full of portable CD players, cd’s, books, gameboys, lollies & chips, pushbikes, siblings, and sometimes the dogs. Every school holidays, we’d be off somewhere for a weekend, week, or two… and it was great! But as I got older, I wanted less tents and more caravans, then less caravans and more hotels, then less driving and more flying. Until eventually I phased the whole camping thing out. When I moved out of home, I spent most of my time with people who had never ‘camped’ – and who had no interest in it. And I’d never really appreciated the value in it anyway, even when it vanished as a pastime.
Just after I’d moved to Melbourne in 2007, a group of us decided it would be cool to drive to Lakes Entrance to camp. NONE of us had any camping equipment whatsoever, we borrowed it all, and most of our food was actually er, alcohol. I was handed a tiny tent, and was the first to set it up… I was so proud! I even took a photo with my phone and sent it to my mum haha.
I remember how broke I was then, but we still had so much fun…. disrupting the town and the campsites. That was my little reminder to me… I didn’t need trashy nightclubs, 3am taxi’s and 4am kebabs to feel alive and to disconnect myself from the chaotic world.
A few months into dating Jim, he invited me down the Wilsons Prom for a weekend away. We loaded up the old Cortina with Jims archaic and well used collection of hand me down camping gear, along with a canoe, and drove the three and a half hours to the southernmost point of the Australian mainland. It was winter, it was freezing, and it rained. And I had possibly the best weekend ever. Jimmy said that I passed the ultimate test… I knew how to pitch a tent. We brought the very best wine with us, and sat under the verandah in the rain, drinking by candle light and telling stories, before curling up under a pile of doonas and having an amazing early sleep, waking to a dawn of kookaburras, wombats shuffling by, and visiting rosellas. Then we took the canoe out onto the inlet, laid back and listened to nothing but the waves lapping against the hull. There was never anything so quiet. And I think I got hooked again. Thankfully these days we take the X-trail down… it’s a lot more comfortable for over 3 hours of driving.
Our next trip down was with massive packs. Jim had talked me into my first hike… a 12 kilometre overnight hike to Oberon Bay. I made a video of my struggle – its on my Facebook. It was very funny, and very hard work. But there was a strange sense of achievement, that I had walked that far, over, up and down granite hill faces, spent the night listening to the waves on the shore, and then hiked back in the morning. It was a physical barrier I had never pushed before. Sure, I work out, I ride my bike sometimes, and I go to the gym… but when you’re hiking you don’t have any choice, you cant just stop and go home. You cant take a shower, or crash on the couch… You just have.to.keep.going. I pushed through until it didn’t hurt anymore. Oh don’t get me wrong though… two days later I could barely walk, but I knew that I had achieved something pretty awesome.
We’ve been camping a few more times since then, and Ive started asking for it more and more. Jimmy still laughs when I get down there, the campsite is set up, the food is cooking, the wine is open… and Im standing in front of him asking what we should do next. ‘How about nothing?’. But I can’t do NOTHING!? Are you crazy!? I have to do something!!! It always takes me a little while to realise that there is nothing that needs doing… it’s supposed to be that way. Our list of achievements for the day might read; kick the football on the beach, and walk up to the lookout.
Now back to my 25km saga. Jimmy had begged to go hiking again and I’d agreed. He didn’t tell me that the trip was 25 kilometres, fortunately for him, I didn’t find out the distance until we’d returned. And so we set off from Melbourne at 9.30am, arriving in Tidal River (Wilsons Prom) by 12.30pm. We could see it had been raining, and the sky was a heavy grey, but the air was fairly warm. We started off at 1, glad to know that wearing shorts and singlets paid off, as we watched other hikers peeling off jackets and beanies from the heat of the hike. 4 hours later we arrived at Little Waterloo Bay, a secluded grove of trees and sheltered campsites, wedged between a steep rock face, and the beach. Thankfully, all the hiking destinations have toilets! We found a well-drained, gently sloping spot under some trees, set up tent and cooked our dinner… ravioli, pasta sauce, tuna, chickpeas, and vegies.. oh it tasted so good with our bottle of red! Then it started to rain so we piked early. And it rained and rained and rained…. and rained… nonstop till dawn. We awoke dry and free from mosquito bites (yay for the new hiking tent!) but very very sore. We’d forgotten the inflatable mattress, only packing the high density foam. Ohhh the pain. And the rain wouldn’t stop… it drizzled… incessantly. Our dry clothes were soon wet as we packed up all our gear, but our situation was infinitely better than the foolish people who had opted for the flat piece of ground which you, by taking one look at it, could tell regularly flooded. We walked past their tents and they were almost 10-15cms underwater! The poor bastards were standing around like drowned cats, looking very very upset. Packing up, we began the hike back and I somehow found the strength to push through the pain and climb all those damn hills! It drizzled non stop and we were soaked through, rain dripped off my hat, and my shoes squelched from the water and mud inside them. My back muscles burned and I had shin splints but we kept on going, the sand in my shoes rubbed against my wet socks and blisters formed on my heels. But I was determined to make it back in better time than it had taken us to get there. We got back to the overnight carpark by 3.30pm, and we were back in Melbourne by 6.30pm. Thanks to the car heating, we had thawed, and both of us had taken turns having a nap. We’d stripped off the wet clothes and jumped into our spares… next time we might take lightweight raincoats though hehe, and remember our inflatable mats. And we’re going to buy hiking boots, instead of sneakers whose delightful ‘ventilation’ panels let in a lot of water!
Aside from the landscape being incredibly beautiful ESPECIALLY during the low light and the drizzling rain, there was something completely uplifting about the whole experience. We hiked for maybe half an hour at a time without saying a word, all you could hear was the soil crunching, birds, and the ocean far away. And once you can push beyond the pain, your mind drifts elsewhere… sometimes I thought about work, and school, and relationships and money… you have a lot of thinking time out there! But other times it was blank. Blank, but not lost… just calm. And I’d study the water dripping off the eucalyptus leaves, or the bullants charging up to the giant humans with all the bravado of ancient Knights of King Arthur. There were birds and lizards and wombats… and kilometres of views to swoon over, but most importantly there was nothing but us and the knowledge that we were completely isolated from a world of ‘perceived’ troubles. It all kind of washed away with the rain. And if it wasn’t raining, it would have dried away in the sun. And if there was no sun, it would have burned away through our perseverance. We had no choice but to push on, and that drew all our focus into a gorgeous little vortex where nothing really mattered… at all.
Jimmy turned to me at the end of the hike and could see the pain on my face. He asked me, “Would you do that again?” I said,
“Definitely”.
Now we’re planning our next one…. three days and 36 kilometres. I’ll need some rest first! But I can’t wait. It’s a pretty healthy thing to get addicted to I think…
Something quite unusual has happened in the past year, and I’ve suddenly picked up on it after returning from the weekends’ hike.
As my life gets more and more crazy, my desire for simple pleasures gets greater and greater. The more I work 12 hour days, study till dawn, and take on freelancing modelling & design projects on the side, the more I want silence. Normal right? Sure. But where do I find it? 3 hours drive plus 9 hours/25 kilometres of hiking away!
I remember always camping as a kid. Mum and Dad would spend a few days packing up the 4WD, then we’d roll (in convoy with other families, or on our own) to the varying reaches of Western Australia; Augusta, Albany, Kalbarri, Pemberton, Denmark, Lancelin, Dongara, Binningup, Payne’s Find, Coral Bay, Exmouth, Monkey Mia, Geraldton, Shark Bay…. and all the little towns in between. The car would be full of portable CD players, cd’s, books, gameboys, lollies & chips, pushbikes, siblings, and sometimes the dogs. Every school holidays, we’d be off somewhere for a weekend, week, or two… and it was great! But as I got older, I wanted less tents and more caravans, then less caravans and more hotels, then less driving and more flying. Until eventually I phased the whole camping thing out. When I moved out of home, I spent most of my time with people who had never ‘camped’ – and who had no interest in it. And I’d never really appreciated the value in it anyway, even when it vanished as a pastime.
Just after I’d moved to Melbourne in 2007, a group of us decided it would be cool to drive to Lakes Entrance to camp. NONE of us had any camping equipment whatsoever, we borrowed it all, and most of our food was actually er, alcohol. I was handed a tiny tent, and was the first to set it up… I was so proud! I even took a photo with my phone and sent it to my mum haha.
I remember how broke I was then, but we still had so much fun…. disrupting the town and the campsites. That was my little reminder to me… I didn’t need trashy nightclubs, 3am taxi’s and 4am kebabs to feel alive and to disconnect myself from the chaotic world.
A few months into dating Jim, he invited me down the Wilsons Prom for a weekend away. We loaded up the old Cortina with Jims archaic and well used collection of hand me down camping gear, along with a canoe, and drove the three and a half hours to the southernmost point of the Australian mainland. It was winter, it was freezing, and it rained. And I had possibly the best weekend ever. Jimmy said that I passed the ultimate test… I knew how to pitch a tent. We brought the very best wine with us, and sat under the verandah in the rain, drinking by candle light and telling stories, before curling up under a pile of doonas and having an amazing early sleep, waking to a dawn of kookaburras, wombats shuffling by, and visiting rosellas. Then we took the canoe out onto the inlet, laid back and listened to nothing but the waves lapping against the hull. There was never anything so quiet. And I think I got hooked again. Thankfully these days we take the X-trail down… it’s a lot more comfortable for over 3 hours of driving.
Our next trip down was with massive packs. Jim had talked me into my first hike… a 12 kilometre overnight hike to Oberon Bay. I made a video of my struggle – its on my Facebook. It was very funny, and very hard work. But there was a strange sense of achievement, that I had walked that far, over, up and down granite hill faces, spent the night listening to the waves on the shore, and then hiked back in the morning. It was a physical barrier I had never pushed before. Sure, I work out, I ride my bike sometimes, and I go to the gym… but when you’re hiking you don’t have any choice, you cant just stop and go home. You cant take a shower, or crash on the couch… You just have.to.keep.going. I pushed through until it didn’t hurt anymore. Oh don’t get me wrong though… two days later I could barely walk, but I knew that I had achieved something pretty awesome.
We’ve been camping a few more times since then, and Ive started asking for it more and more. Jimmy still laughs when I get down there, the campsite is set up, the food is cooking, the wine is open… and Im standing in front of him asking what we should do next. ‘How about nothing?’. But I can’t do NOTHING!? Are you crazy!? I have to do something!!! It always takes me a little while to realise that there is nothing that needs doing… it’s supposed to be that way. Our list of achievements for the day might read; kick the football on the beach, and walk up to the lookout.
Now back to my 25km saga. Jimmy had begged to go hiking again and I’d agreed. He didn’t tell me that the trip was 25 kilometres, fortunately for him, I didn’t find out the distance until we’d returned. And so we set off from Melbourne at 9.30am, arriving in Tidal River (Wilsons Prom) by 12.30pm. We could see it had been raining, and the sky was a heavy grey, but the air was fairly warm. We started off at 1, glad to know that wearing shorts and singlets paid off, as we watched other hikers peeling off jackets and beanies from the heat of the hike. 4 hours later we arrived at Little Waterloo Bay, a secluded grove of trees and sheltered campsites, wedged between a steep rock face, and the beach. Thankfully, all the hiking destinations have toilets! We found a well-drained, gently sloping spot under some trees, set up tent and cooked our dinner… ravioli, pasta sauce, tuna, chickpeas, and vegies.. oh it tasted so good with our bottle of red! Then it started to rain so we piked early. And it rained and rained and rained…. and rained… nonstop till dawn. We awoke dry and free from mosquito bites (yay for the new hiking tent!) but very very sore. We’d forgotten the inflatable mattress, only packing the high density foam. Ohhh the pain. And the rain wouldn’t stop… it drizzled… incessantly. Our dry clothes were soon wet as we packed up all our gear, but our situation was infinitely better than the foolish people who had opted for the flat piece of ground which you, by taking one look at it, could tell regularly flooded. We walked past their tents and they were almost 10-15cms underwater! The poor bastards were standing around like drowned cats, looking very very upset. Packing up, we began the hike back and I somehow found the strength to push through the pain and climb all those damn hills! It drizzled non stop and we were soaked through, rain dripped off my hat, and my shoes squelched from the water and mud inside them. My back muscles burned and I had shin splints but we kept on going, the sand in my shoes rubbed against my wet socks and blisters formed on my heels. But I was determined to make it back in better time than it had taken us to get there. We got back to the overnight carpark by 3.30pm, and we were back in Melbourne by 6.30pm. Thanks to the car heating, we had thawed, and both of us had taken turns having a nap. We’d stripped off the wet clothes and jumped into our spares… next time we might take lightweight raincoats though hehe, and remember our inflatable mats. And we’re going to buy hiking boots, instead of sneakers whose delightful ‘ventilation’ panels let in a lot of water!
Aside from the landscape being incredibly beautiful ESPECIALLY during the low light and the drizzling rain, there was something completely uplifting about the whole experience. We hiked for maybe half an hour at a time without saying a word, all you could hear was the soil crunching, birds, and the ocean far away. And once you can push beyond the pain, your mind drifts elsewhere… sometimes I thought about work, and school, and relationships and money… you have a lot of thinking time out there! But other times it was blank. Blank, but not lost… just calm. And I’d study the water dripping off the eucalyptus leaves, or the bullants charging up to the giant humans with all the bravado of ancient Knights of King Arthur. There were birds and lizards and wombats… and kilometres of views to swoon over, but most importantly there was nothing but us and the knowledge that we were completely isolated from a world of ‘perceived’ troubles. It all kind of washed away with the rain. And if it wasn’t raining, it would have dried away in the sun. And if there was no sun, it would have burned away through our perseverance. We had no choice but to push on, and that drew all our focus into a gorgeous little vortex where nothing really mattered… at all.
Jimmy turned to me at the end of the hike and could see the pain on my face. He asked me, “Would you do that again?” I said,
“Definitely”.
Now we’re planning our next one…. three days and 36 kilometres. I’ll need some rest first! But I can’t wait. It’s a pretty healthy thing to get addicted to I think…
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Fashion Shoot - Nov 14th
POW. I just worked with the most amazing team! After ridiculous amounts of facebook correspondence, sample themes, fittings, reference images etc etc, we finally met on the weekend to create some fantastic shots.
9am till 5pm we worked, multiple outfit, hair, and makeup changes.
Id just like to say how professional, dedicated, passionate, and cohesive the team was!
Stylist: Desiree McPhee @ Styleid
Hair: Ross Joseph
Make up: Shella Ruby
Photographer: Vendula Pribylova
Model: Kaye (me!)
Just a sample;
9am till 5pm we worked, multiple outfit, hair, and makeup changes.
Id just like to say how professional, dedicated, passionate, and cohesive the team was!
Stylist: Desiree McPhee @ Styleid
Hair: Ross Joseph
Make up: Shella Ruby
Photographer: Vendula Pribylova
Model: Kaye (me!)
Just a sample;
Monday, November 9, 2009
Old Blogs - May 19th 2009
I cant believe I almost went...
That International Phonecall
Tuesday, May 19, 2009 at 12:33pm
These past few days, the world has slowed. And warped. And my brain has nearly fallen out of my ears with the intensity of information Ive had to process.
The weekend just passed, marking my two year anniversary of living in Melbourne.
It was also my one year anniversary of being (blissfully) with Jimmy and, our Housewarming party.
And on Monday morning, I arrived at work in Melbourne to a new job option... in London.
Are you serious? Yes- Absolutely completely serious. A role had become available in the UK, and they were looking to fill the vacancy internally. And my skillset is perfect. I cleared it with my Regional Talent and Training Manager, and put in my expression of interest.
And they came back to me!
I was the only internal person who put their hand up. I was as good as gone, once the obligatory videoconference internal interview was done, and the HR paperwork sorted, and provided I could get my visa and flights sorted asap... they need me there in 4 weeks time (!), and would put me up in accommodation until I could find my own place. Someone would meet me at the airport, and there would be a two week handover from the exiting staff member. I would be there for 1 year on a maternity leave contract, but had access to an ancestry VISA so could essentially stay for ages if I decided to. Jimmy and I talked it over, and he would even come with me, joining me after a few months, once I was set up. It was a dream come true. To further my career AND travel.
So then... I turned it down.
I mouth those words when I type it. I.turned.it.down.
WOW.
I thought about it. I wrote about it. I talked about it. I cried about it incessantly because I couldn’t stand the internal pressure in my head to make the goddam decision.
Why? Because right now, Im actually happy. My role mightn’t be perfect right now but that is only a small part of all the pieces that have fallen into place. I have a solid mapped career path, I have a stunning boy to come home to, a stunning house to come home to, a degree that Im acing, I live a decadent lifestyle where I can almost do and buy what I want, and I have a solid group of friends. The same unrest and resentment that sent me on that last minute flight from Perth to Melbourne two years ago doesn’t exist anymore. Sure I want to travel, but I don’t want to do it this way. I don’t want Jimmy to give up the job that he is doing so well at, or to sell the car he loves, or to give up the house we only just ‘warmed’! I don’t want to have a going-away party only 4 weeks after the moving-in one I just had!, and I don’t want to spend 3 months in London without him. I don’t want to live in a share house on the bones of my ass on the outskirts in London because I wouldn’t be able to afford anything else, and spent 70% of my time in inner city London writing tenders and bidding for architecture work.
Maybe I’ll do it in a year. Who knows. Maybe I’ll study overseas instead, or just backpack. Doesnt matter. I’ll go, but now isn’t the right time. Why, when Ive just properly patched all the holes in my leaky boat, would I rock it? Im not going to go just because the opportunity is there – it’s got to be just right.
And right now, Im staying put. And Im really happy I made that decision :o)
That International Phonecall
Tuesday, May 19, 2009 at 12:33pm
These past few days, the world has slowed. And warped. And my brain has nearly fallen out of my ears with the intensity of information Ive had to process.
The weekend just passed, marking my two year anniversary of living in Melbourne.
It was also my one year anniversary of being (blissfully) with Jimmy and, our Housewarming party.
And on Monday morning, I arrived at work in Melbourne to a new job option... in London.
Are you serious? Yes- Absolutely completely serious. A role had become available in the UK, and they were looking to fill the vacancy internally. And my skillset is perfect. I cleared it with my Regional Talent and Training Manager, and put in my expression of interest.
And they came back to me!
I was the only internal person who put their hand up. I was as good as gone, once the obligatory videoconference internal interview was done, and the HR paperwork sorted, and provided I could get my visa and flights sorted asap... they need me there in 4 weeks time (!), and would put me up in accommodation until I could find my own place. Someone would meet me at the airport, and there would be a two week handover from the exiting staff member. I would be there for 1 year on a maternity leave contract, but had access to an ancestry VISA so could essentially stay for ages if I decided to. Jimmy and I talked it over, and he would even come with me, joining me after a few months, once I was set up. It was a dream come true. To further my career AND travel.
So then... I turned it down.
I mouth those words when I type it. I.turned.it.down.
WOW.
I thought about it. I wrote about it. I talked about it. I cried about it incessantly because I couldn’t stand the internal pressure in my head to make the goddam decision.
Why? Because right now, Im actually happy. My role mightn’t be perfect right now but that is only a small part of all the pieces that have fallen into place. I have a solid mapped career path, I have a stunning boy to come home to, a stunning house to come home to, a degree that Im acing, I live a decadent lifestyle where I can almost do and buy what I want, and I have a solid group of friends. The same unrest and resentment that sent me on that last minute flight from Perth to Melbourne two years ago doesn’t exist anymore. Sure I want to travel, but I don’t want to do it this way. I don’t want Jimmy to give up the job that he is doing so well at, or to sell the car he loves, or to give up the house we only just ‘warmed’! I don’t want to have a going-away party only 4 weeks after the moving-in one I just had!, and I don’t want to spend 3 months in London without him. I don’t want to live in a share house on the bones of my ass on the outskirts in London because I wouldn’t be able to afford anything else, and spent 70% of my time in inner city London writing tenders and bidding for architecture work.
Maybe I’ll do it in a year. Who knows. Maybe I’ll study overseas instead, or just backpack. Doesnt matter. I’ll go, but now isn’t the right time. Why, when Ive just properly patched all the holes in my leaky boat, would I rock it? Im not going to go just because the opportunity is there – it’s got to be just right.
And right now, Im staying put. And Im really happy I made that decision :o)
Friday, November 6, 2009
Thats a wrap
Bali was a-MAZING. I cannot believe I haven’t had a real holiday in 5 years... I shall never leave it that long again! Jim and I are already talking about the next little trio of Vietnam, Cambodia & Laos!
It was 7 days of cocktails, sunshine, shopping, exploring, awesome food, nightlife, sunsets, cuddles, sand, adventures…
and 3 days of Bali Belly. But I can still say IT WAS WORTH IT. We stayed in Nusa Dua, which was a very good idea because I found Kuta too feral. The locals weren’t as nice and there were too many drunk foreigners stumbling around in the middle of the day. Id rather stay in Nusa again, or Seminyak. And Ubud is definitely a must for anyone.
Just SOME pics;
It was 7 days of cocktails, sunshine, shopping, exploring, awesome food, nightlife, sunsets, cuddles, sand, adventures…
and 3 days of Bali Belly. But I can still say IT WAS WORTH IT. We stayed in Nusa Dua, which was a very good idea because I found Kuta too feral. The locals weren’t as nice and there were too many drunk foreigners stumbling around in the middle of the day. Id rather stay in Nusa again, or Seminyak. And Ubud is definitely a must for anyone.
Just SOME pics;
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Wherever you are...
Dream.
I realised today that my heart will always lie in two places. I awoke from the weirdest yet most beautiful dream, in which I found myself face to face with a man I once loved. His new girlfriend was by his side and Jimmy was by mine. A silent understanding passed between us, in the way that we always could speak a million words ... through the eyes.
I smiled at his girlfriend, and introduced myself, happily chatting about the day, while he quietly observed. For whatever reason, I knew they were very much in love, and it was ok. I think he was a little taken aback, but gradually warmed to the pleasant scenario that seemed to be unfolding. I wrapped my arm around jimmy’s waist, brought him into the fold of conversation, and they shook hands.
There was something very peaceful about the dynamic that flowed between us. Almost like an energy that linked all four of us in a place outside of time. He could see quite clearly, the person I had evolved into, and the quality of the man in my life, and it made him happy. And I could see that he was loved and in love, and it made my heart swell.
When I woke up this morning, I knew that while my heart and my love belongs to Jimmy (now, and for a very long time), I will always care for that man in my past. I will always wish the greatest dreams and happiness for him. While I wont miss the relationship, the two of us seemed never destined to be together as the people we were, I will always miss him as the lovely person he is as a companion, and a friend. And that is why my heart will always be there for him, in a place locked in history. Side by side without competition, with the ever growing adoration that I have for my Jimmy. One part will never quash the other, as they are not the same, but two different types of love – one in my past, one for my future.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Dear Racegoing Female;
Dear Racegoing Female,
I only hope today that you have thought of several things;
If you have to think about the colour of your undies, just in case someone might see them when you sit down, uncross your legs etc... then that is NOT a modest hemline. This is not a nightclub, this is a fashion institution, you can be incredibly sexy with a hemline just above the knee.
If it looks like the saturation levels on your digi camera have been turned right up, you picked the wrong colour fake tan, and should fire your beautician. A fake tan is not just a fake tan, it is a wax, an exfoliation, and a thick slathering of moisturiser... THEN the tan on top. Leave the domination of oompa loompa land to Willy Wonka.
Fascinators should fascinate. Hats are not an afterthought, and will make or break your outfit. Sure, make it yourself ONLY and ONLY if you know what you are doing.
If if you think (even for a second) that those killer heels are going to be your arch nemesis by this evening... dont wear them in the first place! The only thing that shits me the most is stillettos slung over your shoulder and bare feet. Harden up, or wear flats. You are putting our sex to shame by stumbling aroound in pretty pink toenail polish and crusty dirty feet.
Thank you, have a lovely day, and please make a concerted effort to see at least one horse belting around the track :o)
Kaye
I only hope today that you have thought of several things;
If you have to think about the colour of your undies, just in case someone might see them when you sit down, uncross your legs etc... then that is NOT a modest hemline. This is not a nightclub, this is a fashion institution, you can be incredibly sexy with a hemline just above the knee.
If it looks like the saturation levels on your digi camera have been turned right up, you picked the wrong colour fake tan, and should fire your beautician. A fake tan is not just a fake tan, it is a wax, an exfoliation, and a thick slathering of moisturiser... THEN the tan on top. Leave the domination of oompa loompa land to Willy Wonka.
Fascinators should fascinate. Hats are not an afterthought, and will make or break your outfit. Sure, make it yourself ONLY and ONLY if you know what you are doing.
If if you think (even for a second) that those killer heels are going to be your arch nemesis by this evening... dont wear them in the first place! The only thing that shits me the most is stillettos slung over your shoulder and bare feet. Harden up, or wear flats. You are putting our sex to shame by stumbling aroound in pretty pink toenail polish and crusty dirty feet.
Thank you, have a lovely day, and please make a concerted effort to see at least one horse belting around the track :o)
Kaye
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