Hidden Treasures in a $5 Box of Books

A couple of weeks ago, we went to an auction. The local second hand store was going out of business, and everything was going - no reserve. Dangerous place to take me, let me tell you. 

So off we went at 8am on a Saturday morning to sign in and have a look at the wares. We'd been through the shop before of course before it went up for sale, but everything was so expensive! Especially since it was all previously used, previously loved (or not) or very, very old. 

I went straight to the books section, where everything had been boxed up, and made sure to write down the numbers of all the boxes I wanted. There were many, but I didn't want to be greedy. I just wanted the four boxes that held the children's books, and a box of really old hardcover books in various states of disrepair.

By the time the auction made it as far as those boxes of books, I had inhaled two cups of CWA coffee and a couple of home-made scones (with jam and cream). Wifey had headed off home to do some housework and left me to my bidding wars.

The first three boxes of books went for $35 a piece, and contained hundreds of old western magaziney type books that looked pretty cool. I only wanted one of those boxes, but the guy who won the first box took all three. (See? Greedy!)

Then we came to the table that held the boxes of books I coveted. There were around 15 boxes of books, of which I only wanted three. The auctioneer explained that we would be bidding "for the pick" - so the winning bidder could take their pick of any or all those boxes. Just my luck that someone will want the whole damn table, I thought.

My luck, it seemed, was in. I was the winning bidder at $5 for a pick. I thought at first I only got one pick, but no, that auctioneer said I could have as many as I wanted, and pick my numbers. So I chose my three boxes, making my grand total spend for standing around for three hours at $15. And the laugh was on the other bidders for being slow out of the traps - the next lowest pick bid went for $15 for a box.

We got them home (after bidding on and winning a few more things, and spending a little over 8 hours in total at the auction), and I couldn't wait to go through those books to see what my $15 had bought me.

I lucked in to a pretty good haul. Below are some pictures of a couple of things that caught my eye. The rest of the books have been sorted out and are going to the kids in my family. 

Yes, I'm THAT aunt that always turns up with books!

101 Dalmations. 

I can't wait to re-read 101 Dalmations. I remember reading this one when I was in primary school, just before the Disney movie came out. I went to the local movie theatre with my cousins to watch the movie, and loved how the movie mirrored my imagination when I'd read the book.

Schindler's List and White Fang

Some classics I haven't yet read, but have been on my To Read list for a long time. Now I get to finally read them - when I can find the time.

Sweet Valley High and Sweet Valley University

 Ah, sweet romances. I mostly read SVH and the Sweet Dreams series of books. The thing I remember most about them was how they made me feel so warm and fuzzy after reading them. Also, I always wanted to be the guy getting the girl, rather than the other way around.

Waltzing Matilda

This is a classic Aussie poem and song. It would have been something I read when I was at primary school. It's really banged up, but the illustrations are fantastic. Though I want to share this with my nieces and nephews, I'm going to keep this one on my bookshelf.

These aren't the only great books from my haul, but they are the ones that brought back some great memories from my childhood.

I love how books can do that.

Lesbian does not always equal sex

(Admit it. All you saw in the heading was "lesbian sex").

Now that I've got your attention, I wanted to chat about a couple of things that have been annoying me no end the last few weeks. I've been doing some research on an idea I have for some steampunky type characters and plots, and having some real fun checking out some of the steampunk websites around the place. (Check these cool gadgets out)

The first one I seem to be encountering whenever I search for lesbian steampunk. There doesn't appear to be too much around, which is great for me in a way, because I can tap into a fresh market. But I've stumbled across a few forums where other people have been asking for recommendations for some lesian steampunk, and the answers have almost always been to the tune of "I don't have anything to recommend for lesbian steampunk, but here's some cool erotica that you might like instead."

Now, I'm not big on the erotica genre anyway, but why is it always assumed that if you're looking for any type of fiction with lesbian characters (or gay for that matter), that you're automatically after erotica?

Here's a tip: I'm JUST after lesbian characters. I'm squeamish about badly written sex scenes, be they same-same or otherwise. Hell, I'm squeamish about sex scenes, badly written or not. I like to use my own imagination for those types of scenes, and much prefer the "fade out" effect. I'd rather not have a blow-by-blow of who puts what, where.

What I'm really looking for is this: steampunk stories, that don't have sex as the end goal, with lesbian characters. Simple? Apparently not.

The second thing I'm frustrated with is the amount of gratuitous sex in a lot of the lesbian books I'm reading. (I have a whole other post whinging about other stuff I don't like about lesbian fiction, but I'm sticking with the sex for this one).

I was reading a sample of one a couple of weeks ago (a sample, which is only the first 10%), and the lead character stops what she's doing to jump in the sack with some hussy she just met, within the first five pages. THE FIRST FIVE PAGES!! Give me a break. That is not characterisation. That is gratuitous sex. Not even James Bond jumps into bed with the women plotting his downfall in the first five pages (or the first five minutes in the case of the movies).

I get it. We have this image to protect where BBLs (Big Butch Lesbians) can bed anyone they want without consequence, and that makes them super cool. Women, straight and gay, fall at their feet and worship the ground they walk on.

I don't want to read about those characters.

Here's what I want.

I want characters who go through shit that doesn't happen just because they're lesbian. I want characters whose major trait is something OTHER than the fact that they're lesbian.

So the question is, how do I find those characters?

The answer: in my own head. My answer to my frustrations is to write what I want to read, since no-one else seems to be doing it.

What I have in common with Beccy Cole

(Apart from stunning good looks and singing ability).

2012 seems to be the "year of coming out" for some reason. I'm not exactly sure why that's so, but I'm happy to run with it.

So far, we've seen the likes of Magda Szubanski, Queen Latifah,  and Anderson Cooper come out, and last night I watched as Beccy Cole came out on the ABCs Australian Story.

It was a wonderful program to watch - raw and honest and funny. I suspect much like Beccy herself.

One of the most common questions I see asked in comments threads about any news story that has anything to do with being gay or lesbian is why is there a need to come out at all. It's often followed by a loaded statement, such as "I don't feel the need to declare myself a male heterosexual".

Well, of course you don't. Everybody already just assumes you're straight.

Coming out is not what I really wanted to talk about in this post though.

Most of us have a kind of "aha" moment - the moment of realisation that we can put a name to our feelings. Some of us, like me, have a series of "aha" moments, which build into the Big Moment of Acceptance.

One of those moments came as a result of the BBC show "Playing the Field". It was while watching that show that Beccy says her "aha" moment came.

It was because of that show that I had one of my moments that lead to me accepting myself for who I am.

When that show was airing here in Australia, I was playing for a soccer team called The Blues - same as the show - and so my team mates and I would dissect each episode at training and before and after games. It was funny to watch a show about a team with the same name as us, and pretty cool too. We tried to match up characters with our team mates, with often hilarious results.

It was during one such discussion while watching a match with some parents of my younger team mates that I came close to outing myself. Close, but not quite.

One parent mentioned their frustration that the show was perpetuating a stereotype that dykes played soccer. I listened for awhile, and then said "I can guarantee you that every women's team in our competition has at least one lesbian on the team."

Stopped the conversation dead did that comment.

One of the mums then asked "Every team?" I just looked at her and smiled, and said "Every team."

It's funny looking back now, because I wonder if they actually worked out that I was talking about myself. When I think about my team at the time, process of elimination should have probably brought them back to me.

Nothing changed though with the way I was treated if they did put two-and-two together, and when I did eventually "come out" when I found myself a wonderful partner (who for some reason is still sticking by me), my team mates and their parents and partners were wonderfully accepting.

But helping me on my gay self-discovery wasn't the only thing that show did for me. It actually gave me the inspiration I needed to start writing again. I have two half-finished YA manuscripts to prove it. Both sound ideas, but terribly flawed in their current condition. Both ideas that I will hopefully pursue in the future.

So to those who want to know why we feel the need to come out, I guess it comes down to power. 

The problem lies with those "others" who would choose to define us by our sexuality. We "come out" to claim it for ourselves, before someone else does it for us. We do it to show we're proud of who we are, despite this "thing" that we're told is a flaw in our make up.

Being anything other than straight can still be confronting for some people - and for those of us in that minority, we take a huge risk in coming out, so it's not for the faint hearted. It takes courage and confidence.

We risk losing family, friends and jobs. And for someone like Beccy Cole, she risks losing fans, and she also risks a public (and sometimes private) backlash.

But to Beccy Cole, and anyone else coming out, wanting to come out, or wondering if they should, I have this advice:

We are who we are. Those who judge you on one aspect of your self are not worth having in your life.

And from my perspective as a writer, the people who stop reading this blog because they find out I'm gay are not the people I want as fans.

Being gay is not a huge thing in my life, unless others choose to judge me on it. But then, that's their problem, not mine.

Oh, and just one last thing Beccy - I think you'll discover a whole new group of fans after your "coming out". We're a pretty accepting bunch, and we love to celebrate and support our own.

What I learnt about writing from my dogs

When Wifey and I decided to get our first dog, we knew we wanted to adopt one from our local RSPCA.

There's no doubt it's a huge choice and we even used their website survey to work out what breed would be best for us (a beagle, which is exactly the opposite of what we got). Then we hit their website and trolled through the photos, oohing and aahing over the online profiles.

We spent a few weekends going in to the kennels, walking past the hopeful adoptees and walking out again, unsure about what we wanted. Everytime I walked out without a dog, it broke my heart to think that there were so many in there looking for new homes - a home that we didn't think we could give.

We continued this for weeks - me checking the website, emailing profiles to Wifey with "Could this be our Lola?" (the name Wifey was determined to call our dog, so we were predestined to get a girl).

During this time, a little 5 month old kelpie-cross came up. We glossed over her profile for weeks - she was gorgeous, but we figured we preferred a more sedate type of dog. Kelpies are working dogs, and notoriously hyperactive.

We came close with a golden retriever called Magic, but when we took him for a walk he was more interested in being out in the park than he was in us. We also found out that he was a master of escaping yards. Thankfully though, he found a home with a family with kids, which was perfect for him.

Finally, after a few months of looking, I opened up the little kelpie's profile, and had a really good look at her picture. She was a tiny, skinny little thing, and jet black. Her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth and her ears pointed straight up and alert. 

I suggested to Wifey that we might get her out for a walk when we went back to the RSPCA that weekend. Wifey agreed, because it was the one profile she kept coming back to as well. What could it hurt?

That weekend, we walked straight up to her kennel and spoke to her. I can't remember what we said, but Wifey probably said something like "Do you want to come home with us?" We should have known right then that she was the one - she leapt at the wall and flipped off it. Wifey and I stepped back and said "whoa!" We knew we might have an excitable puppy on our hands. We also wondered what she'd be able to do off our six-foot fence.

Undeterred by her acrobatic abilities, we asked a volunteer if we could take her out to have a play with her. When we first stepped into the yard, the volunteer took off the leash, and I knelt down to the kelpie's level. She walked straight over to me and put her head under my armpit, resting her chin on my leg.

I looked up at Wifey and smiled. This kelpie was the one. We played with her for awhile, but in all honesty, we didn't need to make our minds up - she'd picked us, so we figured we better just formalise the adoption and take her home.

While we were there playing with her, we had a few of the volunteers and staff come up and say how happy they were that this little kelpie had found a home at last. She'd been in the kennels for nearly three months, and no-one had shown much interest. They all fussed over her and said she was a beautiful dog.

We can certainly attest to that.

So, after signing the paperwork and paying the adoption fee, Daisy became the first addition to our family.

Wifey and Daisy the day we brought her home

I always say that Daisy chose us, rather than the other way around.

I'd like to think that she waited until we came along to show us her best side so that we would be the ones to take her home.

So, what does this have to do with writing?

Early on when my writing was just a hobby, I wanted to reach the world. I wanted 'everyone' to read and love my work.

Since then, I've realised that not everyone's going to like what I write, and that's ok.

My job is to be my best self. To write what I'm passionate about. To write in my own unique way.

Sure, lots of people might come and have a look, but they'll keep smiling and walk right by, knowing my stuff just isn't for them. But just like Daisy, if I'm true to myself and write what I love, the right people will come along.


We always knew we wanted two dogs, because we didn't want to have a lonely dog on our hands, since both of us work full time. Our other dog, Ruby, is a rescue pet from the same RSPCA we got Daisy from.




Rubes (front) and Daisy tuckered out after a tough day

I'll tell Ruby's story in a future post, because she taught me things only a Labrador could.

And if you're after a dog, cat, rat, chook, or other type of pet please consider your local RSPCA or shelter.

Fifty Shades of Grey - Is It Black & White?

I decided pretty early on that I would never do book reviews on my blog. The simple reason is that books, as with any type of art, are subjective. Whether someone likes them or not depends more on taste rather than the skill of the author.

Also, I’m a writer myself, and I don’t want to come down on other writers in any way since I know how hard it is to finish even the shortest of stories. For that reason, I had decided to stick with the adage “if you can’t find something good to say, don’t say anything at all.”

I also pride myself on not buying books just because they’re trending. Not that grossly popular books are necessarily a bad thing. I like to wait until the hype has died down a bit, check out reviews from what I think are reputable sources, and decide whether I’ll jump in and see what the rest of the world is talking about.

And so it was that last week, when looking for something a little different, I finally relented and decided to see why everyone was making such a fuss about Fifty Shades of Grey. Apart from searching for something to read, I also like to download samples of big sellers to see what they’re doing that I’m not to see if I can learn anything from them.

Anyway, I read some reviews on Amazon for Fifty Shades - a lot of them singing its praises, some of them ho-hum and a lot that were quite scathing. At risk of being unpopular, I’d be in the latter camp.

Since I read most of my books on the kindle now, I took advantage of the sample feature so I could decide whether to plunk down $9 for the full electronic version. I’m pretty glad I did - safe to say, I saved that $9 for a more worthy book.

It’s no real secret that this book (and series) began life as Twilight fan fiction somewhere on the interwebs where people flock to read that stuff for free. It would, after all, be a major copyright headache for people to write about their favourite characters (who they did not create) and make money off them without the original author’s permission. There is a whole other discussion about the ethics and legality of making money from fanfiction on the interwebs as well, but I’ll save that for another post.

Seems there’s not too great a change needed in order to avoid a copyright suit these days. While I also didn’t read any of the Twilight series (at the behest of some good friends, who said not to waste my time), I did get talked into watching the movies. I have no idea whether the movies stayed true to the books or not, but usually the movie versions tend to be more dramatic than the books. If that’s the case with Twilight, I’m glad I didn’t read the series. However, I digress. My thoughts on Twilight are for another post, but my point is I have no idea how much of Fifty Shades (formerly known as “Masters of the Universe”) is similar to the Twilight series.

Anyway, after struggling to get through the sample chapters, I was not happy to go ahead and purchase the full version of Fifty Shades because, for me, the writing was (as Ana would say) “triple crap”.

It came across to me as a fifteen year old writing an erotic fantasy about hooking up with her unattainable crush in the secrecy and safety of her bedroom. Even from the start, the character of Ana seemed naive and not in control of her life.

The dialogue was stilted and overly formal, and the author seemed to have a very limited vocabulary when it came to cursing (crap, double crap, holy cow) and description (lips and eyebrows “quirking up”, Ana biting her lip and rolling her eyes). Apart from that the author is British, and the setting is the US. Nothing usually wrong with that, except that the whole book is really written in British language, despite the American spellings.

Apart from that, the whole thing just didn’t really make sense to me, even in the very little I read of this book. Granted, I never got to read any of the erotic stuff because the sample only ran to two chapters, but I was ready to give up after the first page. The whole scene in chapter two when Christian comes in to the hardware store, where Ana works, to buy rope, cable ties and tape is just a bit weird for me. Having read the reviews and knowing what the whole deal is with the series, I know it’s not a romance, but come on. He just happens to decide that Ana is someone he wants to bring into his seedy world of BDSM after meeting her once?

I must admit though, I was disappointed that the sample ended where it did, and I was tempted for a second to download the full version just to see how bad it got - you know, like seeing a car crash and despite feeling queasy you just can’t tear your eyes away? But I told myself that, in reality, erotic fiction isn’t really my thing anyway, no matter how good it is, so even I would have questioned why I didn't like it in the end.

So, rather than try to discern why it is people are raving about this series so much, I’m going to ask you. If you’ve read Fifty Shades, or Twilight for that matter, what about them made you enjoy them? And if you’ve read both sets of books, are there any major similarities between them? Anything that made you get that de ja vu feeling of having read it before somewhere?

I ask these questions, not to scoff at you for reading tripe, but in order to discern why it's such a phenomenon despite it's short-comings. I am, afterall, still learning my craft, and part of that is finding out what things work in other fiction, and why.

How my Dad taught me about persistence.

Today is the 1 year anniversary of my blog. I started it with a post about my Nanna, and how she inspired me to get off my butt and work hard on my writing. Today, I’m writing a post on someone else who has inspired me, though I don’t think he knows how much.

My dad (and me) at my christening in 1976

I’m a child of the 80’s, so I remember back when video games were literally black and white (in the case of Pong), or green and lighter green (in the case of type-your-instructions RPGs), depending on your game. Game consoles didn’t come with memory cards, so when you turned your game back on, you had to start from the very beginning, every single time.

Like a lot of kids back then, my first game console was a Mattel Intellivision. We got it for Christmas when I was 6 or 7 and I have one very distinct memory from that time.

The day my father set it up was the day he gave me a lesson in persistence.

I didn’t know it then though. I thought it was a lesson in “adults will always play kids games first” and “little kids just have to wait until the big kids finish” or maybe “men just never grow up”.

Anyway, with that first ever game console, Santa brought us 2 games - Tron Deadly Discs and Checkers Draughts.

That first day, while all of us kids were out playing with our other shiny new toys, my dad set up the Intellivision and stuck the Checkers cartridge in to have play. Nothing unusual about that with my dad really, since he usually got to have first play with our toys so he knew how things worked.

Well, my dad played that thing for hours against the computer. I don’t know how many times I went back inside to see if I could have a turn only to see the screen unchanged and dad working out his next move.

You have to remember, this was before the internet and walk-throughs, so when the computer beat you, you had to work out why yourself and then counteract it the next time you played.

I think it may have been dark outside by the time my father triumphed over the computer, and I don’t know how many times he lost against it to get that one win. I just remember how stubborn and determined he was to not let a stupid machine beat him in a simple game like checkers.

Here’s why I think that lesson is important now.

Today, we have so many options to take the easy way out. We have books and websites and apps that tell us how to do things, the way we should live and how to beat games. Lots of people watch the movie but never read the book.

We have instant gratification. We want things, and very often, we get them now. Our attention spans seem to be on the decline. If it’s not interesting right from the start, we discard it. If we buy something second-hand, we only want it after someone else has spent the time restoring it.

I think the challenge is to remember that the things we tend to appreciate the most come to us from hard work and persistence.

Kind of like my writing.

I’ve been at this gig for nearly 13 years now. A lot of people tell me I’m crazy. Sometimes I think I just might be. How can I keep doing something that hasn’t paid me a cent? How can I keep wanting a career in an industry that is so hard to get into, and then stay in?

Because it’s who I am.

I love writing, even during the times I say I hate it. Why? Because occasionally, I read something back and I can see how good I am. I can see how good I am getting after 13 years, and I can see how much better I can become.

Just like my dad, I’m determined to work on what I’m doing wrong so that I can be better. Instead of competing with a computer, I’m competing with myself, and sometimes others, trying to tell me I’ll never be good enough.

Just like my dad, I’m not going to give up because it gets too hard.

Unlike my dad though, and lucky for me, computers now have memory. Everything I ever write can be saved and re-read. So unlike my dad, learning from my mistakes is a little less frustrating.

Sunday Sesh #19 - One Fifty Lashes Pale Ale

This Sunday's Sesh is brought to you by James Squire's One Fifty Lashes Pale Ale. I can't provide a link because on the Malt Shovel website, the pale ale hasn't been added for some reason, and on the only other site (called The Squires Bounty), there's nothing about the actual beer - just an advertisement for its launch last year.

Anyhoo, the review.

James Squire's One Fifty Lashes Pale Ale

This is another winner from the James Squire stable. It's light and a little cloudy and not much head and smell crisp and fruity. Very refreshing and easy to drink, and went down a little to quickly to be honest.
It's just a little sweet - almost shandy-ish, but not quite. Highly recommend this one.

I think the lesson here is, if its a James Squire, you won't be disappointed.

Continuing on from last week's post about goal-setting for the new year, I've downloaded and read (on my sparkly new kindle) a couple of books that I hope will assist me in building my "author platform". In other words, how to get people to like me and buy my books, and how to get THOSE people to tell OTHER people to buy my books.

It's going to be a hard slog. I'm under no illusions, however, that it will be any different from writing my books - a marathon rather than a sprint - and damn hard work.

If you're interested, the books are How I Sold a Million Books in 5 Months by John Locke, and two books by Kristen Lamb - We Are Note Alone and Are You There Blog? It's Me, Writer.

If you're at all interested in writing and particularly in self-publishing, I highly recommend all three books. John's is very similar to Kristen Lambs, but John gets you fired up and Kristen Lamb sits you back on your rear and tells you like it is.

Anyway, there will be a few changes around the blog over the next few months. As I said last week, the Sunday Sesh's will continue, and that's because I enjoy writing them. And yeh, ok, I also enjoy the beer.

They will be the only blog posts on here for the next month or so though (unless something really takes my interest), as I re-design the blog and the direction I want it to go in. I need to re-focus on my writing as well, and it all needs to start overlapping. I've started the hard slog towards defining who my readers are, and I now need to work out where they hang out after work. That's harder than I first thought, but it has also helped me to decide where to focus my efforts with regards to which of my (currently) 18 ideas I will concentrate on over the next year or two to build my audience.

Enough of my writing plans though, because I want to tell you, if you're after a fast-paced, fun and dangerously addictive read, you need to check out John Locke's Donovan Creed novels. I downloaded and read two in two days, and I am just waiting for my book budget to tick back over into the black to buy the rest of them. They are purely entertainment, so if you're after literary genius, they're not for you. And at 99c a pop for the kindle editions, what's not to like? They're also in paperback, so you don't need an e-reader to enjoy them.
Donovan Creed, Locke's main character, is a gun-for-hire and is strangely endearing, even if he does have better relationships with prostitutes than real women, and even if he is happy for people to get their come-uppance.

My pick of the two I've read so far is Wish List. Without going into too much detail, it's about a group of friends who enter their wishes onto a website, never thinking for a moment that they would start to come true. As always where Donovan Creed is concerned, there are consequences. This book had me cringing and laughing out loud. Very highly recommended.

That's enough from me this week. I have to decide what beer I'm reviewing next week, since the cupboard is bare. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to give them a go. I'm always after recommendations on what to stock my beer shelf (ok, shelves) with, so don't be shy.

Until next Sunday's Sesh,
Cheers!

Sunday Sesh #4 - Kilkenny Draught

This post brought to you by Uncle David and Kilkenny Draught.

Uncle David:  "I think this is Mother's Milk."

Aunty Luella: "Mmm, not bad. Oh no, very bitter aftertaste. Blech!"

Wifey: "Beer. Yuck"

Me:  Beautiful rich syrupy colour. Love watching this beer settle in the glass. Looks like sarsparilla cordial when first poured, and then the bubbles start appearing and moving up to settle on the top. The widget in the can gives it a milky, creamy head. Very refreshing. Will definitely have this one again.

$15.99 for a 4-pack from The Beer Store.


I've decided to change it up a little bit today, as I've been inspired by a regular article in one of the Courier Mail's mags called "I went to [insert place here] and this is what I saw". This is my version.


I went to my local shopping centre and I saw.......

more crack than a plane trip from Thailand, and more underwear than in a lingerie catalogue. And that was just at the front door in the smokers' non-smoking area.

Context: It was school holidays, and it was Thursday, and for anyone who's never had anything to do with centrelink, Thursday is pension day.

I got crack framed by g-string thanks to a young mother bending over a pram digging around in the huge cavern those 4WD buggy things have underneath them now. She was down there so long I slowed my walking pace to see what on earth she was looking for, and lo-and-behold, she stood up brandishing her pack of ciggies, and proceeded to light up and blow smoke right into her kid's face. Man I hate that. And they tell me and wifey that we shouldn't be having kids because of our "lifestyle"?

And what's with the guys fashion these days? I've found there's two distinct variations - 80's vomit and "I'm too poor to buy new clothes so I wear my 6-year-old brother's pants and my dad's XXL t-shirts. And I wear my cap-brims straight cos that's how I roll."

I lived through the 80's. I was a child of the 80's. I loved the 80's. The 80's had great music, running bare-foot on the family farm, Slip'n'Slide, the best-worst cricket team in the world, Twisties ads, Dunlop Volleys and Funny Face iceblocks.

Now I'd have no problems with any of those coming back. In fact I still listen to the music, the cricket team is looking like the best of the worst and I can probably see those old Twisties ads on youtube.

However, the skin-tight jeans bunched at the ankle, with high-tops with the tongue hanging out or alternatively, slip-on shoes? Paired with sheer v-necked t-shirts and fab teased-to-an-inch-of-its-life hair? 80's vomit. That stuff should never come back. I even saw leg warmers the other day. That stuff doesn't even look good in faded photographs taken by film camera with a dodgy flash (yes kids, we had to wait to see our photos once).

And don't get me started on the low-slung jeans fad. Oh ok, I'll get me started. Is your package really that big that you need lots of wrapping which makes you walk like you've ridden a horse all your life? You know the people who can't help themselves and have to fix your collar or tuck in your shirt tag? I wish someone would be brave enough to walk over to one of those guys and say "Oh, sorry but your jocks are annoying me. Let me just fix that for you" and pull up their damn pants to their waist where they should be sitting. There is one funny thing about those pants though and that's watching those guys digging around at the backs of their knees to find their wallets.

I'm not entirely sure why they call it fashion "sense", as most people, (myself included on occasion) definitely do not have any sense about what they should and should not be wearing. 

Take the guy I saw a few months ago, same shopping centre, and again on a Thursday (I know, I'm such a snob!). He was wearing those "fat" jeans 10 sizes too big that everyone was wearing a decade ago, in purple, with cowboy boots. And they were too short. Plus, he was wearing one of those replica American Football jerseys, the mesh ones, and a, wait for it......... Akubra! That's right ladies and gentleman, he got lost on his way to Mardi Gras. I'm being judgemental - sorry. Who knows if the guy was gay, but I do know one thing for sure. There was definitely no girlfriend - or there wasn't after she saw that get-up. 

I watched as he walked into Myer, and for a second wanted sirens to go off and Trinny and Susannah, or (even better) Carson Kressley to jump out from behind a mannequin, look him up and down and say "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no" and whisk him off to give him a good lesson in what not to wear.

But the young-uns aren't the only ones making bad fashion choices. This time it was down-town on a windy winter's day here on the range, which for those of us who have any sense - 10 layers. Not this brave soul though. Oh no.
At first I just saw her from the back. Long blonde hair to the middle of her back, tight little black skirt, a halter top, and teetering heels. She turned, and that's when I almost embarrassed myself by laughing out loud. The woman had to be in her 50's (at least) and you know, if she did a little bit of exercise on her abs her belly hanging loosely from the bottom of that top would probably be smaller than her boobs. Though, it could have been her boobs. I'm not sure. I didn't look for too long lest I go blind.

I'm finished my beer. After thinking about all of that traumatic non-fashion sense, I need another one. Next week, I'll tell you what I saw in the Food Court. Stay tuned!

Until next week,
Cheers!



As always, I love getting your feedback. What's the worst fashion faux pas you've seen? And what, if anything, would you bring back from the 80's?