dressing- life skills

It’s the life of the fashion student and more or less the life of everyone whose working their way from bottom to top, to be treated like dirt. You are, in the words of that immortal ‘trainspotting’ character, Renton,
“The lowest of the low the scum of the earth”.

None the less you enter an industry at the very bottom rung of the ladder and although you may hope to be treated like the genius you secretly think you are, you are aware it is unlikely.

It is for this reason I had a surprising experience dressing for a fashion show of late.
The common side profession of fashion students – dressing models – (literally)
Is dangled in front of us as an opportunity to ‘make contacts’ and ‘gain experience’. Essentially its expendable free labour. Although most fashion students realise this after their first dressing experience some of us continue to work as dressers because we hold the flickering candle of hope we will be discovered.
Naive much?

It was for this reason the actions of one Alexander Owen so surprised me, the up and coming designer from small New Zealand town Gisbourne was in our corner of the country showing her collection at showroom 22 last week.
Unlike most designers who rarely ordain to speak to dressers (and if they do its to ask them to fetch coffee or water) the delightful miss Owen made time to speak to the 6 students who were helping her and ask with general interest about our own collections.

Perhaps it is because Miss Owen lives away from the urban nightmare that is Auckland with its fashion snobbery and pretentiousness that she does not realise that designers are far too high and mighty to talk to lowly dressers. I hope she remains uninformed even though her designers are so interesting they will undoubtedly gain her increasing publicity.

The entire experience of her collection was surprising starting with her down to earth nature. Dressers were surprised to see on their models racks sleeves that detached and were then switched with other models and attached to other garments. Whilst this was a nightmare for those of us dressing models for rapid changes in a small area, the collection was intellectually interesting in a way that is rarely seen in New Zealand and seldom seen anywhere but the collections of the likes of Anne Demulemester and ‘Avante Garde’ international designers.

It’s the sort of designs I wished we saw more of in our fashion industry, we have a lot to learn from international designers, and perhaps certain international designers like those I dressed for at London fashion week (who shall go unnamed) could learn something from Alexandra Owen on how to treat volunteer dressers.

smashing pumpkins and queens of the stone age gig.

Smashing Pumpkins are the best live act ever its official!! having been a huge fan since i was all of 8 years old when everyone else liked Hanson and the spice girls, I finally had the chance to see them live. I went with Jessie and was in a state of mega excitement going "Billy Billy Billy" in the car and very much annoying her. even though there is only two original members , Billy Crogan - vocals and lead guitar and jimmy Chambirland - drums, it was the two most important members so who cares. billy was amazing so much stage presence in a silver men's skirt. hes a giant actually like 6'4 at least , it doesn't make him look any shorter next to the bassist who is a tiny little girl. arghhhhh I'm even more obsessed now than i ever was!!

quarter life crisis

going back to uni has been teribile. my first day hadent even started and i wanted to drop out.
the first blow should have been expected.
id been waiting years to discover it.
it was taken
taken gone
stupid italain shoe designer.
the brand name i spent 10 years developing and nurtiring. has been taken. all is lost the world is over.
things got no better , day two of uni and we have our first crituque.
slammed
may as well have been wrestling the bashing i took.
were mostly in the same boat
but were sinking none the less.
tomorow had better be a better day - or else
mala brajcavich and little brother fashion show - free tickets
and a light on the horizon i may be reunitted with my bfff sonner than i cud have imagined ! reuninion!

getting away for some good ole craziness

Every one of life’s events has a soundtrack, our kitchen in the UK had the theme song glamorous (fergie) our trip to green which had ‘all the leaves are brown and the sky is grey”.
Our quintessential kiwi road trip to the beach at Whangamata had the theme song LOLA – it’s about a transsexual, I love this song and I only just figured that out!
We left Auckland around ten and with a good supply of candy and a large coffee in hand made a start on our three-hour drive. Coming into our destination we stopped to by fruit and veggies at a country store. On the way to the avocado aisle we spotted a peculiar looking specimen. A metre long green thing with a sign saying
“Free to a good home”
Who ever heard of a vegetable being free to a good home? Well we decided we were that good home and took our newly adopted overgrown courgette home with us. My father informed us it’s a called a marrow, but we insisted it was a giant courgette – much more dramatic! And spent the rest of the week correcting each other. Who would have thought u could have so much fun with a vegetable! That thing lasted 4 meals! For 3! We scooped out the inside and stuffed it with rice and tomatoes – delicious oh! In between all our eating me and my friends Jessie and shevaun had an amazing time, swimming four times a day, vintage shopping at the town’s treasure troves of second hand stores. At low tide we walked across the sand bar to a nearby island and nearly died of a heart attack from all the crabs. We spent our nights eating guacamole and nachos and sitting drinking gin tonics on the deck. Trying to avoid the swarms of insects. One unforgettable night we were literally attacked by ants it was like a sea off moving black carpet. After some energetic spraying we had to vacuum them all up – disgusting! Our last day we decided to take a leisurely drive back via a nearby beach – Waihi where my aunt lives and is building an actual mansion – seriously, seriously. Her place is right right on the water seriously! So we went for a swim there and went to Athenre pancake parlour for breakfast and had lavender chocolate pancakes on a deck overhanging a steam. The pancake parlour is in the middle of nowhere in the bush and the stream is notorious for is eel inhabitants. Gorgeous setting to start the day!
We hit the local vintage stores in Waihi and I bought Jessie a really cute purple ‘ Daphne’ of Scooby doo style sixties dress for her birthday. We stopped for ice cream and candy several times on the way home and spent the day taking endless tiki tours. Scattered throughout our week wheather we were swimming shopping – sitting driving we were singing LOLA ! l-o-l-a lola.
We drank champane and danced all night – under electrics candelight!
We drank champane and it tastes just like cherry cola! C-o-l-a Cola!
LOLLLLLLAAAAAAA

leaving my troubles behind

leaving the city for the beach is one of the things i love best about new zealand , hopefully doing so will put me in a better frame of mind about being back in my own country.
typically the day i head down to the beach with two of my girlfriends it decided for the first time in 6 weeks , to rain. oh well swimming in the rain is one of lifes little known treasures as vick might say. severly hung over from a birthday party last night i am packing the beach essentials, alcahol, avacados, sunblock , sunblock , sunblock , sunburn spray.
time to go!
ciao!

CULTURE SHOCK COMES AS A SHOCK

So I'm gone, and I’m back, depending on where the story begins. I’ve been “home” about a week now. With some teary goodbyes I left the UK. After 10 hours in Heathrow airport (entertaining myself with a little lift riding) 2 hours to Munich. One hour plus 2 hours delays in Munich and then 12 hours to LAX and then 5 hours in the most confusing non sensical airport in the world before my final 16 hour flight to NZ.
I arrived. It was hot, I was wearing half my winter wardrobe – including but not limited too one coat and two jackets. I stood sweating In line at customs with my three bottles of gin and 5 carry on bags weighing at least 20kgs – how I got away with this I don’t know I had amazing luck with my overweight luggage.
I get home having not slept in about 50 hours probably more because of that last wild night in London.
Its weird everything’s changed. My mum’s hair is blonde and our cat got really skinny. My rooms a different colour and Wendy’s frosties are vanilla not chocolate. I had been craving that frostie and the discovery almost reduced me too tears.
I came home to find out you have to pay for most clubs now – I had complained bitterly of club prices in London only to discover my own countries jumped on the bandwagon that is ripping people off. We have sharks now – more shark sightings this summer than ever before. I cant go anywhere for fear of getting sunburnt. I had defiantly been suffering from culture shock symptom #5 idealisation of the old country. Its ridiculously hot I’m sure it must have always been this hot but its come as a shock. It freaks me out to discover its 9pm and still brightly sunny outside when it had been pitch black by 3 30 in UK. I’m freaking out! Some sort of major culture shock is going on here. I don’t feel at home in my own country. I’m pretty sure everyone is getting sick of me saying “ in Italy…” or “when we were in Paris….”.The one good thing is seeing my friends again, I went out to my friend Scots 21st last night and caught up with most of my friends who believe I've joined a cult due to my new hair band obsession. Tonight ill catch up with my high school friends at a picnic my friend Frankie is hosting in my honour. A picnic? When my mind is in the middle of winter? Seasonal madness.

its over unis finaly over - for a whole month and then i have to start all over agin first week back with a whole assignemnt done -hell when am i gunna have time to catch up with any of my freinds , work find a new job first and do this assignment.

 soemhow i lose several days of my life on a aeroplane crossing a billion timelines. its 56 hours from getting to heathrow airport to getting home . cry cry cry dosent sound fun and only one of the 16 hour flights has tv. to distract  myself i thinka bout going to chicago the msuical tomrow with my friends , im gunna mis them so much

assignemnts

one assignment down , two presntations to go , i feel liek i wanna die i am so tired and not even from working just from watching gossip girl 9 episodes straight untill the wee hours of teh morning so now i ahev to finsih my assignemnts in my lunch break 10 mins before there due (i know im bad send me to my room) i leave in just a few days and were going to chicago the musical for my last non sleeping in the airport night - so excited

new years- a big mess

new years was a mess, thought i was gunna stay at home and have a lame old time and then last minute miriam said i should go to london with her and meet up with some dutch friends of hers.
for the first time in my life i have TOO MUCH to wear i just got 7 new dresses- im out of controll with my spending. so end up going for the sensibile option because its cold and i arrive in london and the girls are wearing just miniscule dresses and heels not even a coat or a cardiagn they must be freezing! the dutch people are evry fun its a international mix . i havent been drinking much and was quite ashamed to be quite drunk after 4 glasses of wine we headed soemwhere - i dont rember where - blame the wine- to go watch fireworks and then to a pub called the camel in pimlico - how we got to pimlico i dont know , last i knew we were in north acton(dont ask)
next thing you know its 5 am and a big bunch of us have gone to a random guys house for the afterparty and one of the dutch asks if he has cocaine and sure enough he wips some out and starts cutting up their and then - im innocently shocked! cocaine! what is going on normal nice people doing first class drugs in their posh pimlico apartment , they are pretty casual about it - its no biggie in england it appears. me and miriam catch a 7 40 train home and fall alseep and only just get off at the right spot. a pretty good night over all even if extremly random

its been awhile and paris belgium and new years have happend

I lost track of what happened when and where, I can summarise a few events but as for chronological order- it’s just beyond me. I’m listening to tiny dancer - the 'almost famous 'version and I hear the quote "I have to go home" and then penny lane says "you are home". I’m not sure; i’m back in UK now and excited to go home but also loving travelling and never wanting to leave. I think I last left this blog in Belgium headed back to the dreaded Paris - i’m not sure what put me in such a bad frame of mind about Paris but whatever it was it soon wore of and looking back it was great, but Paris is a city of great expectations and in many ways it failed to live up to these - we went to Belgium with a open mind knowing little about the country and so everything was a surprise, I wont go as far as to say Paris is overrated because its worth going but it was the unexpected small events that I treasure most. we arrived back in Paris late at night and headed to a new hostel in the montemare district - i.e. the red light district, we got so lost and it was not a good place to be lost in the middle of the night with a big suitcase each, eventually we found our hostel and made our way into the smallest room in the world. we had wondered on our reservation how their could be a uneven number of beds in a room , I had my suspicions but couldn’t believe it - 3 story bunks , me on the the bottom bed on the floor literally and lili sleeping somewhere up near heaven , I had to yell up to her. The hostel is one of the worst possible and actually most expensive, the door doesn’t lock, close, or have a key no hot water it’s a mess we were scared to go out at night. luckily we were here just three nights, we headed to Versailles for a day trip and its the highlight of my trip ,the palace of Versailles are somewhat mediocre after the Vatican but the gardens are to die for , i’m saving up to buy a little patch somewhere. You can get completely lost there, all the grass trees and ponds were frozen it was a winter wonderland. the palace tour is reasonably spectacular , we were not a serious as we should perhaps have been in such a historical place but we had been given the most hilarious audio guides which were extremely pompous and had a overdose of the word 'sumptuous' it was the sumptuous tableware in its sumptuous surrounds covered with sumptuously decorated lace coverings ... you get the drift , they also spontaneously broke out into re-enactments of what the king ‘might’ have said here or what visiting dignitaries might have seen , its really very hard to observe seriously with such comedy in your ears. The next day we went to the Louvre - the Mona Lisa is a let down, tiny and miles away behind a glass wall and a crowd of people. Other paintings with spectacular though, we also visited the grand palace and the mode exhibition. About this time we changed hostels returning to our first Paris stop - aubergine international - very cheap very good. we went this day to the Notre dam and had a hard time avoiding all the fake begers who ask innocently - "do you speak English" I wish like lili I could just pretend I spoke Chinese , I tried to put a sort of confused look on my face - it wasn’t hard, I've had 20 years practice. Inside the Notre dam are spectacular glass stained windows and candles galore. next we headed to the Pompidou museum , i’m not sure what this is,we were very confused , the architecture is a eclectic futuristic mess and the only art we saw was a video with subtitles in which a polish guy yells to a empty stadium that he wants 10 000 Jews to return to Poland , i’m sure it has cultural significance but i’m unsure what it is, we made some friends in the hostel that night in discussion about this video which they didn’t understand either , two guys and a girl one guy from Poland one Ukrainian &one Turkish , even the polish guy didn’t get it.
The next day..... I think was xmas - yay we had a party of two and all the restaurants we closed so with the hostels meagre recourses - a microwave- we had snails- escargots and what I thought was French champagne but due to a language breakdown was actually apple cider, we ate some of our xmas presents - (toblerone). we explored the shops and took all our photos of shop windows for our assignments without the hassle of pesky security guards.... who cares about intellectual property... the shop displays at printemps department store are works of art , they move and hundreds crowd round to see them , they are like live puppet shows.
Next day we went to the museum de orssay - the museum of modern art which was more interesting than the Louvre, lots of my favourite artists and works, the huge Toulouse lautrec's were the highlight, van gohs portrait - the crowd puller paled in comparison to Monet’s waterlillies. We next visited the Luxemburg gardens which are very tranquil and in the same area the pantheon, which is a roman rip off.
we went to the new arch - a big metal square which apparently is a window to the world and sits on a axes that runs from Paris to new Zealand , whilst here we went to a giant mall and got lost only to find Europe’s biggest supermarket - its big really big! We visited a market that was full of Christmassy stuff and I bought real (expensive) French nougat which is heavenly worth every Euro (there was many). Fashion student highlight – we went to all the designer stores and accidentally stumbled across the workroom of comme des garcons, we slipped past the security and peered into the windows and took a few sneaky pics.
we climbed the Eifel tower around 4pm to get the best view at day and night, its a hike but well worth it for the views, we could see the whole of Paris lit up and there was snow all over the first and second floors of the tower so snow shoes were available., our last night in Paris we went for dinner locally at a wonderful Italian restaurant where I had the best chocolate mouse ever! My favourite, we had learnt it was easier to go for Italian than attempt to decipher a French menu only to discover you had ordered sushi or something and not a French meal at all. Italian menus are universal. our last day in Paris we took a lazy option and spent a relaxing few hours on a river cruise up and down the seine seeing the Louvre Notre dam Eifel tower , concord and orsay from the river. it was very relaxing as we ached all over from our hike up the tower the night before, we revived enough to drag our suitcases from the hostel to the train station and then up and down and up and down and up again all the metro stairs, we arrived in London at 11pm and had a hour to catch the last train at nearby Victoria station. however London transport spited us and half the lines were closed, the Victoria line didn’t stop at Victoria and the ticket machine ate our money, and so we arrived in time - to see our train leave, and spent a very cold night sitting outside the station until it opened at 6am and then a further 3 hours sitting in the cold station waiting for the first train back to Rochester, we were needless to say - over it. I am not tom hanks I do not make the best out of living in a terminal.