It's that time again...

To take the mick out of people. It's such a delight to do so. But there is a line. Sometimes when I have crossed that line unintentionally, I have this immense sense of shame fill my stomach and I lose sleep for an indefinite amount of time. It's when I have not thought through my fun poke, and upon vocal delivery realise that I just sound mean. Now, spite in taking the mick out of people is not my intention. What my intention is usually is to not so diplomatically (yet if the subject refuses to take themselves lightly it is merely a faux interest in themselves in which I have taken) encourage people/dickheads/lovely people having a self indulgent moment to take themselves less seriously, get off their self elevated golden throne, and have a laugh at themselves. I have them, and I sincerely appreciate people doing the same for me. It keeps one grounded. And mindful of others.

Who am I referring to at this very moment? No one I know personally. My 'victim' is currently selling some sweet Witchery and Country Road items on Trademe. Neither stores exist in Hawkes Bay or in Bay of Plenty, and though it's always better to try things on in store, I do like to daydream whilst perusing for sweet tea cups, outdoor chairs and leather pants (damn it, I still cannot find the right pair!).

Anyway. At the risk of being caught out myself by a fellow mick taker, I'm wagering more heavily on the angle that this girl is dead serious. It makes my point feasible. The following sentence was this girl's catalyst for selling her wardrobe.

Welcome to my auction. I am selling all of fab belongings. Turning into material- free Yogi/ Musician.

(the following free space is silence to absorb the above)





YOU NEVER. NEVER. NEVER SAY SHIT LIKE THAT. People who, for decades, or without making a song and dance about the above lifestyle have just gone ahead and done it, would NEVER SAY SHIT LIKE THAT. People like misguided trade me girl make a mockery whether they like it or not of people who genuinely live and breathe material free lifestyles, or musicians who cannot afford possessions because they would rather write and perform music. It's not always a choice if you are a pursuing something you want so badly, it's not glamourous, or a 'trend' to adhere to briefly, these lifestyle choices can sometimes go so far as to define a person. It's like choosing to become a nun, or bankrupt yourself going organic farming because you 100% believe it is right, not because it is cool or fun to become bankrupt or give up sex for life.

Where have all the genuine cowboys gone? The same place one hit wonder Paula Cole went is my guess.

Until next time!
L.

Never imagine the speaker naked: no matter how attractive.

The title can be credited to a gem of advice from Sam Martin's G is for Gentleman which was published in 2003 (you can be linked to the UK Men's Health review here) and in my humble opinion, should be the ubiquitous tome for males gracing this earth. It is social gold.

According to Martin, no doubt via Miss Manners, or Emily Post, a 'real and true gentleman' is:

1. in possession of an outstanding character
2. never late
3. always discreet
4. never arrogant
5. of impeccable manners
6. always well spoken
7. immaculately dressed at all times
   
8. in possession of good social skills
9. in possession of a genuine concern for others
10. forthright enough to never make excuses
    

The hello kiss: do it with confidence, especially in Rome: do as the Romans do. This isn't a sensual event.

In 1922 Emily Post (1873-1960) published her book Etiquette in Society, in Business, in Politics and at Home. A well near exhaustive work of reference in which she details how to behave courteously, dress accordingly, play sports appropriately and live graciously in all aspects of life.

Post's work covers both female and male etiquette, and while the usual gentlemanly behaviours were covered- never allow a lady to walk on the road side of the footpath, always offer your hand whilst getting out of the car to name just two, I sensed early feminism which, while it certainly didn't promote burning bras, affirmed the female place in society back in the 20's as beginning to have a sense of a independence. Apparently if you were meeting a gentleman friend on the way to a 'house party', he should by no means pay for your fare. Also, if a gentleman happens to come across a female companion as she buys a small item at a stall, leave her to pay before carrying on the conversation.

The 'sports' section was, quite simply, ruddy hilarious. The golf excerpt nothing short of brilliant, although it does dispel the (potential) urban myth of GOLF standing for 'Gentlemen Only, Ladies Forbidden'...?

Golf is a particularly severe strain upon the amiabnd in no other game, except bridge, is serenity of disposition so essential. No one easily “ruffled” can keep a clear eye on the ball, and exasperation at “lost balls” seemingly bewitches successive ones into disappearing with the completeness and finality of puffs of smoke. In a race or other test of endurance a flare of anger might even help, but in golf it is safe to say that he who loses his temper is pretty to lose the game.

A young woman must on no account expect the man she happens to be playing with to make her presents of golf-balls, or to caddy for her, nor must she allow him to provide her with a caddy. If she can’t afford to hire one of her own, she must either carry her own clubs or not play golf.

To be honest I was more interested to find out what is...not expected, but what is appreciated in a gentleman in today's world. Luckily there are a few characters around the world who think the same and have taken it upon themselves to write turn-of-the-millennium 'updates'. My favourite found at the library was Sam Martin's 'G is for Gentleman', with an excellent forward by butler Rick Fink.
And if you're not an aspiring gentleman? You should be. I'm not the feminist that my foremothers are probably begging me to be from their graves, but the reality is tradition is making a comeback. For my birthday I received the recipe book Ladies, A Plate, which was published in 2008, and holds recipes tried and tested by the author that date back to the early part of the 20th century. Now, if us girls are going to be in the kitchen (which the title of said recipe book suggests...), albeit with a test match or two in the background on tv, then it's fair to say we wouldn't mind our men, no matter what role they may play in our lives, to continue to adopt those lovely aspects that were prevalent in the very same days dinner was served at 6pm on the dot with slippers ready at the door and a sweet bread and butter pudding for dessert.

I'll leave you with my favourites from G is for Gentleman.....

Until next time,

L.

There are a few styles of shake that will doom you from the word go. One is the limp shake, by which you just hold out your hand but don't squeeze. If you're on the giving end, this feels similar to firmly grabbing a flabby, lifeless, tenderloin steak. It's unpleasant, to say the least.

Gentlemen travel in numbers- so if you're in the know, and the rest of your posse is in the dark, it's up to you to illuminate them.

When listening, never interrupt to take a phone call, say hi to passers-by or pet a small animal.

Never imagine the speaker naked, no matter how attractive.

Things to say when: greeting a blind date-

• 'Thanks for meeting me'
• You look great.
  

my penchant for Nick Hornby...

Currently on in Wellington is the New Zealand International Film Festival. Shib!

Tonight I was lucky enough to get a seat for Sundance winner ‘An Education’ based on the memoirs of Lynn Barber. The first draw card was not the fact that it was about a ‘student in love with all things French’, but the fact that the screenplay had been written by Nick Hornby.

Hornby’s novels 'Feverpitch', 'High Fidelity' and 'About A Boy' have all been made into films, and the latter two have also held my attention in the initial literary form as well. Colin Firth, John Cusack and Hugh Grant have all been able to act out Hornby’s, well, typical male characters.

The bumbling, the feebleness, the whining, the justifying: all of his characters are hilarious, and remind us all of who really wears the trousers in places all over the world…he seems to have a knack though of still making the male out as the hero (or anti-hero?!) at the end of the day…funny that hey? I think it’s the fact that Hornby lets us know that he’s a bloke. And men are useless sometimes. And they hear us ramble on (I just got Ross from 'Friends' in my head after he falls asleep reading Rachel’s ’18 page letter….FRONT AND BACK’…), so they simply zone out. We all know this! But Hornby seems to convey this through his writing in a way that is factual, commenting on human nature/nature of our genders and encourages us to embrace the stereotypical vices of men and women.

Nick Hornby’s right on the money, droll…sorry can I just pause here and say it is so hard to review 'An Education' with 'Grey’s Anatomy' on at present! I can barely see my computer screen, it’s very, very emotional. Izzie’s gone bald but Alex is nothing but tender because he loves her! Hunt is holding out hope for Christina despite jilting her, literally and psychologically, and Derek and Meredith seem to have gone back into the honeymoon phase with some sort of balloon clad, streamer ridden, warm fire roasting lounge and a couple of blankets keeping them modest. They both look into each other’s weepy small eyes, take in each other’s crop of floppy hair and you can just tell they’ll be together forever. And also…the final next week? Seriously? Winter just stretched ahead much longer than I cared to think…

So Hornby’s droll writing, takes on society and men and women, and the rites of passage we all go through are cleverly articulated once more in 'An Education'. I suppose in a way you’re more intrigued from the outset about an older man cavorting around the West End in Swinging 60’s London with a school girl, but Peter Sarsgaard does it rather well as David. I was quickly put into place with my suspicions of him and convinced that Jenny (played by Carey Mulligan) was that exception to the rule- there was a presence about her and despite being confident without worldliness, it was her education that substituted this well, especially when she realized she was in the company of rather materialistic people. Alfred Molina (Dad) was amazing, seamless with Hornby’s screenplay I reckon in his portrayal of a British suburban father with a very traditionalist approach to women. You can tell Hornby had a major hand in this film, and it makes it. I couldn’t get enough of the way society was constantly commented on, the fashions and the way Jenny’s hair was styled, the shots of a very familiar Oxford (Radcliffe Camera, Bodleian Library, Magadlen Bridge, a small pub we used to frequent, the Oxfordshire rural villages...) the spinster-like yet not typically austere roles of her teachers and principal (played by Emma Thompson, the ‘head’ goddess of acting); although you definitely pick up on some feminist traits pushing through: as above, Thompson dons one serious pastel power suit, and there has to be someone counteracting Molina's paternal instincts...

A highlight? the following:

“You know I got told recently that people won’t be using the Latin language in about 50 years, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“What?”

“Yes! No one will be speaking Latin, not even Latin people, so I wouldn’t worry about your B [from your exams]”

Brilliant.

On Tuesday I have tickets to see the 'In the Loop', and I am extremely excited about this. Thanks to some dear friends I have had the pleasure of being spoilt with the humour of Steve Coogan, and he is pretty much the reason I’m heading along despite him not having a huge part. This is a fairly well written, non plot revealing review here, but there may be some of you who know the series that the film is a spin off of BBC comedy series/satire on the British Government 'The thick of it'.

I’ve got a few more in the pipeline too, hopefully I can drag someone along to 'North Face'; it’s about two German guys who, in the 1930’s, just sifted off away from the Nazi regime and all the chaos going on and started doing hikes and intense mountain climbs in the Alps! To quote the brief synopsis given “…more edge-of-the-seat suspenseful than ‘Touching the Void’…footage of young men inching up a vertical rock face (of the ‘Eiger’ aka ‘The Murder Wall’!) proves nerve-wracking…gripping and fascinating in equal measure”.

Inevitably there’s a chance I’ll start planning a trip to Everest once I’ve seen that bad boy! Here's to a great couple of weeks of films; although I missed out this morning on the final viewing for the season of 'The September Issue' (a documentary on Anna Wintour and Vogue...), so here's hoping I can swing seats to 'Valentino: The Last Emperor'...

Have a great Monday!

L.

PS. Can't believe I almost forgot this, but a worthwhile, non-fiction read is '31 Songs' by Hornby- it's his favourite songs and the reasons why he loves them, with a bit of history and interesting 'stuff' to go alongside his own thoughts. I haven't read it in years, so am now spurred on to track it down and re-read. Viva la Mix Tape/CD!

Ginger Rogers, dance on air: Vogue, Vogue, Vogue

I love Vogue.

Two giant stacks of Vogue greet visitors at home. The thought of pages being ripped out or the thought of missing a month is, well, incomprehensible.

I'm not sure if it started with Sex and the City and Carrie's love for Vogue, and subsequent employment there, but both magazine and tv series are hugely influential on the way I dress, look at fabrics, choose trends to adopt, choose trends to drop.

The aim is not to be trendy, or ultra stylish, but half the fun is constantly evolving, working out your style, what to wear, how to team one thing with something else, how to wear a black dress with jewellery and never look the same. I often think I should write down outfit combinations I fluke, but I'm far too lazy for that. I get it wrong a lot of the time and end up having to loosen belts, keep pulling down tops or yanking stockings up; God does love a trier!

Thank goodness I am a person of little consequence fame wise! The media would tear me to shreds undoubtedly. I see it now. In response, I'm likely to behave a la Christian Bale on the set of Terminator Salvation.

I love the layout of Vogue, the foresight, the complete indulgence in fashion. An occasional nod to the eco-friendly, the political, the literary and art worlds (for these two worlds cannot help but influence fashion and society and vice versa), but really, at the end of the day, Vogue is a monthly, updated bible for me.

Op shops freak some people out. I can't think why. What a trove on every corner supporting either Red Cross or Mary Potter! Get amongst it- these little gems deserve your money more than 'secondhand' stores!

Vogue is like a little tip-off for me. I see what's happening in the hierachy of fashion, absorb it, and then sub-consciously form an idea in my mind of what I 'need'. Next on my list is a couple of lace collars and a gentleman's fob watch. Proper, not costume. Just to wear in place of a necklace or brooch. I've actually been looking for ages, but not seen anything that grabs me.


Now, parents are, when you don't live in a nearby vicinity to them (or when you do upon thinking that one through), those little voices in your head, those midget like figures on your shoulders asking you if 'this' or 'that' is a need or a want?

I need fashion. I love the idea of getting older, having children and looking at photos with them and hearing them giggle when they see my plum coloured hair, flared jeans/tapered jeans/sneakers & jeans...and then seeing them go through the very same fashion trends.

Meryl Streep's speech in The Devil Wears Prada about Anne Hathaway's cornflower blue cable knit jersey being dictated by the fashion powers-that-be was brilliant. People that don't 'care' about what they wear should be, quite frankly, shot.

I have two very good friends, guys, who always look so dappa, purely because they take the time to care about what they wear. It helps, although it's not the sole attribution to their fashion sense success, that their wives are stylish too.

Sceptics or those that are blasé towards fashion, clothing and trends pay heed: caring about style is not a sign of being shallow. It is more than the cliché of "expressing oneself". What I care about in fashion goes beyond just me. It's about paying respect to clothiers of note: Chanel, Valentino, Lagerfeld, McQueen, McCartney, Dolce & Gabbana, Calvin Klein. It's about looking to the designers of today who have earned the right to be movers and shakers surrounding what hits the fashion shows of New York, Paris, Milan, London, and feeling inspired. If you were to observe common trends in your local city, you would not be able to help but start to feel that these trends suit you too: flat shoes in Wellington for instance, a classic. Wellingtonians, as a general rule, walk everywhere, and an Aucklander once wrote that Wellingtonians are usually a well turned out bunch, apart from 'hideous' shoes. And we usually need a hood too considering umbrellas are not practical!

Getting dressed daily, or carefully picking out an outfit for an event involves conscious, and sub-conscious, thinking about what previous generations have worn, choosing to be adorned with a grandmother's brooch, or a mother's ring, wanting to be noticed as someone who cares about presentation, embracing a new garment that was either an impulse buy or a careful lay-by.

Loving being in vogue, or just loving your own style, is yet one more thing that makes waking up in the morning so exciting!

Enjoy the sales, but always try and remember that it's not a bargain unless you're actually going to get some mileage from it!

Catch ya later.

L.