Kids say the darndest things.

Oh how i laughed.

Oh Baby!

For my dear friend... Who in seven months will become a mamma to a superb little baby child.
May your life be filled with finger painting, dancing under the night skies to the sounds of a turn table.
May you know your child will grow up in the arms of the million people who love and support and adore you.
We will build little tee-pee's and try find Wolly.
We will philosophise Winnie the Pooh.
And it will be glorious.
This feast of the heart, this motherhood.

Child

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new
Whose name you meditate
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.

Sylvia Plath

Who you calling Punk.

Im madly in love with Vivienne Westwood.
Not only was she married to a Sex Pistol(Literally),she also single handedly pissed off Margaret Thatcher,went knicker-less to meet the queen, and married a fox of a man, Andreas Kronthaler(25 years her junior.my oh my!)
An orange, bright eyed grand dame, filled with wit and madness, draped in gasp worthy attire, feet clad in shoes from the dreams of Alice in Wonderland herself, this creature of dilly madness and succulent insanity really inspires me to pull my gold 70's coat out from the darkest corner of my closet and parade myself through the streets of Melville.

little miss grown up.

Growing up as an only child was one big pretty pink, delicious, cake filled adventure.
As the apple of my doting parents eye, i was like a walking advertisement for super pretty kiddies clothing.
Seriously.
People use to stop my mother in the road to take pics of me, apparently i looked that outrageously good.
Im talking little gold dresses with hand sewn silk roses on them.
Big straw hats with goldy lock curls
So in honor of back in the day when i was bombarded with ooh's and aah's(Can you tell its been a while?)
here is an amazingamazingamazing photo shoot for a kids clothing company by Tiffany Zettlemoyer photography that is just so very pretty.

Whaddaya mean its free?

Swapping Malls.

The latest craze to hit all those trendy countries around the world, has finally hit little ole South Africa.
A concept of bringing your old stuff(nice old stuff) to swop for coupons and then off to a space where you get to shop for free using your coupons.
Its quite something.
What i loved the most was each item came with a tag where the previous owner had written a little story about said item.
Here's a few pics from our first swopping mall day at Atlas studio's.

Nifty.

I long for a site like this in sunny South Africa.
www.etsy.com
The products are so beautiful and creative, you cant help but want to make things day and night with them.
Im nuts about moulds to make soap, icing decorations, and paper mache decors for cards with, and i nearly slid off my stool seeing these.

Let sleeping Bears Lie.

Bear Bean Bags are all the roar..I mean Rage.

In her Shoes.

Every now and then you meet a remarkable pair of shoes.
Seriously, you do.
And without sounding superficial or flaky (which woman seem to do sadly when speaking of shoes) it really sometimes is love at first slip on the foot.
A quickening of the pulse, an intake of breath so sharp and without warning it can leave even the most avid shoe-a-holic breathless and faint.
I am one of those girls. Who have a love affair with the art that is a beautiful shoe..
It all started about three months ago.
I met a pair of 'Dorothy sparkling pumps' The Maria Callas of foot aparatus in the Witchery section of Stuttafords.
As in most great love stories, it was a rocky beginning.
The price for love seemed awfully high, higher than i was prepared to pay... Surely love shouldn't cost a thing? 'Na- ah', said this shopping mall holding out its grubby hand for blood love money.
Defeated by lack of funds and filled with a sense of loss, i walked out glancing back, eyes brimming with tears, feet dragging behind me.
But sometimes, in the quiet of the night, id think of the Dorothy shoes. Where were they now, were they out there, somewhere, with the wrong size 5 feet?being walked on, and trodden on?
The thought made my toes curl in remorse.
Time passed, and my sole began to heel.
I consoled myself by bringing home many cheap shoes...Most turned out to be a short standing affair, the pinch that comes with cheap love is not something i recommend for the faint hearted.
Today, the love story took a turn.
All it took was a four letter to word...and all those old leathery feelings came rushing back.
50%Sale. There it was, printed on shiny red paper like Christmas, all red and lovely.
I walked in a daze to the shoe section, willing to see a speck of sparkle under the neon lights.
And suddenly! there....they.... were...
More beautiful, more glorious, more bow-ey, more sparkly, more delicious than i could have ever dreamed...
I hugged that box to my chest, it felt so right this time, like this time we really could make it...walk together in perfect sync, style and panache.
So tonight dear reader, im happy to say, We walked together, foot in foot for the first time.
We dined and wined and movie'd ourselves into a state of absolute bliss...
Thank you Winter Sale,for bringing us together.

A little beach house for you and for me.

You know your day starts off rough and busy when you and your best friend cant make your ritual morning 'Hello i love you, what you doing today' call.
Exasperated from a severely crazy work week Lindsay Jane and i came up with a genius plan.
When are are 40 years old, We will buy a little beach house together.
One of those ones like in the movie 'Beaches'.
We will lie on our sun porch reading Vanity Fair, eating freshly caught fish in the sunshine and bask in the happiness which is salty fresh ocean air.
A good goal to work towards don't you think?

A glass slipper and poof!its a fairy tale.

im so in love with these pictures of William and Kate.
It shows a Hollywood-esque romantic comedy poster side to the glowing couple that makes me smile.

It was Destiny.

Driving back from Three Rivers(A one horse town near Vereeniging)yesterday,
I stopped at the local Wimpy to treat myself to one of their cheese burgers and shakes.
Once there i was greeted by the Wimpy manager, a flamboyant delightful man with the name of Destiny. His ear sparkled with a diamante earing, his eyebrows were perfectly plucked, his lips shiny and sparkly from lipgloss.
His dark skin was beautiful, his eyes rimmed with false lashes.
And boy was he lovely.
I said to him,'Destiny, dont you find it hard being yourself in this one horse town of narrow minded biggots?' he raised his eyebrow slightly and gave me a pensive look.
'Girlfriend, what else can i do but be true to myself?' id rather get beat up by the boers and the homophobes than be something i'm not'
I was flabergasted.
A black man called Destiny, living in the heart of Afrikanner-ville, loud proud and gay?
Before i left i gave him my Mac barely there blusher and an old Este Lauder bright pink lipstick i had found at the bottom of my bag.
All i can say is... you go girl... and may you find your Destiny...away from the Three rivers wimpy, the biggots and the corn fields.i salute you and your courage.

Little Lambs.

So I've been doing driving lessons in the cemetery in Melville.(Dont ask)
There are billions of graves, with all kinds of stories attached to them.
Now i'm not one who's really creeped out by graveyards or the dead.
That was until i stumbled upon the children's section, man is that sad.
Teeny tiny little graves, overflowing with flowers, some without flowers for years. Some with teeny tiny pictures of teeny tiny beautiful babies.
It makes you realise just how fragile life is, and how final death is.
These few pics are of some graves and images that really touched me deeply.

Love...in a pharmacy....at first sight.

Just when you thought love at first sight is so gone with the wind,here's looking at you kid, and we'll always have Paris had retired to the back of your granny's closet to live with the mothballs and old coats, think again.
Today i met a woman who met her husband at the pharmacy.
Mays pharmacy in Melville Johannesburg(You know the one right?the one across the road from the triple threat building?a building of three levels. At the bottom is the Adult world 2nd level is Potters house, a charismatic church,third level...a karate studio.Sjoe.)
To make a long story short.
She works in the pharmacy, he was a regular buyer of Sinutab and Eno.
One day he asked her a simple question...
'What are you doing....for the rest of your life?' and the rest is history... 18 months later, they have a beautiful baby, a dream marriage, and a lovely little house.
Maybe love is lurking in the back corner of your local pharmacy. Seems there's hope after all!HOORAH!

Murder She Wrote

Today i went on a killing spree.
Naturally me causing murder and mayhem was all in my head. And in this sordid daydream was me. Armed, with one massive pink plastic sword and killer tomb raider moves.
I murdered not only the fat man who thought it his right to shove his fat bottom in front of me at the quick Spar, i also plunged my pink plastic sword through the heart of the taxi driver who swerved in front of me(me!the learner driver!) and proceeded to give me(me!the learner driver!) the bird.
Now i am not promoting violence, or condoning road rage(truly i'm not, my blog is pink for god's sake) but nonetheless, may i just say, today, was not a good day.
Now i know what your thinking 'Come on,put on that big girl's blouse and show em whatcha got!"
But alas, i retreated, warily, one eye a-quiver,one lip a-trembling, to the safety of my kitchen, where i armed myself with my only weapon of choice.. A martini...straight up.
So bottoms up ladies and gentleman. I am officially waving the little white flag, throwing in the..proverbial pink sword and handing myself over to the couch potato police.
For the rest of the evening anyway.

I just Cant get'cha outta my head.

A hop skip and a jump away from Joburg, nestled between the mountains lies Sun City.
A gamblers paradise of slot machines and whiskey, smoking area's and fake rocks. Did i mention one super fake ocean, set in a backdrop of a super fake Ancient ruin(Speakers cleverly hidden in between the plastic rocks to give off the sound of super fake lions and super fake drums being beaten by a super fake ancient tribe?)
So when we heard the delicious Kylie Minogue was planning a stop over on her world tour to our tacky Sunny resort, we grabbed at the chance to see this goddess perform.
Not only did we have tickets,we had one really really really long limo, one really really really large booze cabinet in the limo, three really really really large platters of fancy shmancy snacks in the limo, and one really really really girly girl amongst a car of really really really fabulous gay men.
It was Priscilla Queen of the desert, it was To Wong Fu thanks for everything Julie Newmar, it was positively Bird Cage-esque
Totally tipsy, we arrived at the Palace, an extravagant hotel where cheap champagne, as it turns out, at five hundred and eighty rand a glass, is not very cheap at all.
We shoved our bags and pockets with handfuls of free snacks, collected our VIP arm tags, ran through the hallways of Sun City(Me in dark glasses and a head scarf, with my gaggle of gays shouting 'Kylie!Kylie!which with me being a size 10 apposed to Kylie's size 0 was not a very convincing venture)
And went to see the Aphrodite show.
It was beautiful, Dolce and Gabbana outfits everywhere, beautiful half naked men flying from the ceiling, Kylie in her petite prettiness was truly fabulous...singing the songs of my youth alongside the Aussie princess has left me hoarse and oh so happy..It was a night to remember.
Miss Kylie Minogue, We should be so lucky, lucky lucky lucky to have seen you!bless you and all your Dolce divineness.

Hoorah for Junk in the trunk!

Jeez I am thrilled to bits and pieces that healthy curves are back in.
Too long has Kate Moss and her eternally hungry and starved to the point of death look, been romantically labelled as heroin chic, making us full figured girls eat more Oreo's from pure shame of our bountiful behinds...
Christina Hendricks has sashayed into Hollywood all curves and volume and soft ample flesh and has honestly made me feel like a million dollars, given me a little 'Curvy is good and lovely and pretty' injection, So i say go eat a cheese burger Kate Moss and the rest of you, bums are beautiful...HOORAH!

Okay...I think i'm in Love.

This cute as a button lady is my granny.
sweet huh?
She's a baker, homemaker, seamstress deluxe,avid orchid grower.
This year she will have been married to my grandpa Rudi, for 61 years.
jeez, can you imagine.

They met on a train(i know!)
It was raining cats and dogs.(HAVE YOU EVER!)
He came into the compartment where my granny was sitting and took the only seat available(yup you guessed it!the only one available was the one next to her.)
At her stop, he offered to walk her home, she had forgotten her umbrella(Are you sighing yet?)
And in the words of my cute as a button granny...'My dear.. We fell in love on that walk home and never looked back'
Im such a sucker for big romance.
I believe in movie endings, the grand gesture, the hollywood kiss...
And these two have it.
Real old fashioned, good as pie, true as a lovebirds heart...Love.

Back in the day, sometime in the early 1950's...when Grandpa Rudi wanted to ask Grandma Christine to be his steady, he would take her to the Pinetown Bioscope to go see a film.
She, in her floral hand-sewn dress and gloves.. his hair perfectly brill-creamed..
It was a vintage date night to remember.He would make sure to suggest the film that would be on for the longest (He turned to me while telling this story and whispered 'More time to canoodle with her in the back-row you see!'
He calls her Pop...she kisses him all the time.
They spent their whole lives in a little house in Durban, with a back-garden filled with fruit tree's and cherry blossoms...and a dog called Fancy who use to bite the clothes off the washing line.
My darling granny wrote me a few weeks ago, and her letter knocked my socks off..
for in it she says..
My dear little girl...have some faith in love...because everyday, the first thing i do...is close my eyes and imagine a man, a good man, who loves dogs and food, and laughter just like you do, a man who is creative but who can support you, a man who will really love you and i wish for him to find you.. And i know my prayers for a good man for you will be answered.
Well gosh..I must say, i got a little sniffly and teary eyed at that.
So thank you Granny Christine..
I guess i just have to keep my eyes open...and look out for the handsome and creative(but financially stable)man carrying a French loaf in the one hand and a little puppy in the other...And ill know you wished hard enough for us both.

My month in pictures

Life has been travelling at New York subway speed.
Oe minute its summer,the next your wearing three pairs of socks.
My face seems to have more wrinkles suddenly, my father's grey hair seem's more grey...(Can life really move that fast?)
Exhaustion is my colour these days, so writing has taken a back seat...Here are some pictures of where ive been, what ive been doing, who i have met and who i would like to meet(See image 1)

Whats Swedish for Marry me Per Gessler?

Im gonna get dressed for success.

Listen to your heart, when its calling for you.

She's got the look...

Three lines from three of my favourite Roxette songs ever. seriously,like ever.
Round age 12 I fell completely in love with Per Gessler, his husky voice and tight stone washed pants.
I mean completely in love.
I imagined him serenading me..at a Roxette concert..Our eyes locking in a moment of pure fate, he hushes the band..grabs his guitar, strumming and singing, all the while never breaking his gaze from me..he staggers down slowely, with the moves of a jungle cat (because come now, who can move fast in tight stone washed jeans?)The crowds would part, as he made his way to me...he would throw down his guitar, grab me in his arms, and kiss me...

Being somewhat of a realist i knew his Swedish accent might catch me off guard and i wouldnt always understand what he was saying but in my opinion...'i love you' sounds wonderful in any language.
I could see us...living in a little Swedish house in our matching stone washed jean pants with our two Swedish babies...singing old Roxette tunes on the Kareoke system.
We would be in Swedish bliss...

Fast forward some years later, and my burning love for him, had taken a back seat to the teenage real love that started happening in my life.
And even though the Adam's and Mark's and Sean's and Todd's and whatshisname's were great fun..i still couldn't fully let go of the man who first made my heart go boom.
So our relationship became a secret love affair. We would meet...via Walkman, twice a week...It was oh so romantic, having to hide my first true love from the cool mysterious men of the hour in my life.
But somewhere between ages of 17 to 25 i found our relationship was becoming too tricky... he was from the 80's!it was never going to last!So alas...our relationship came to a sudden end...

Then in January, word arrived in a frenzied whisper..'OMG!Roxette is coming to South Africa!' I was speechless, i was ecstatic, i was a little mortified of the Justin Bieber-esque fan yelp that escaped my lips.
A funny thing happens when you resume a full blown love affair after many years of being apart...
its called Hysteria..
And i swear to god, Beatlemania had nothing on me on the evening of the 14h of May. when that man staggered out onto the stage in his tight leather pants, with that familiar face,the face i had loved for so long, a little older but still as handsome..Oh lord... i had an out of body experience like you cannot believe...

Nausea,from over excitement made its way up my body, trembling began to rear its familiar head,adrenaline began coarsing through my veins, my face turned hot, my eyes welled up with tears...till finally.. i listened to my heart...

'Per Gessler!i love yoooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuumarrymeohmygodiloveyoouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu' escaped in a shriek that could be heard from the pits of hell it was so passionate,so honest so 1992 that the minute these words escaped my mouth i knew they were true, oh dear Lord i just knew..
I had foolishly spent my teen years persuing boys who couldnt hold a candle to my Per Gessler.
I was totally and utterly horrified that i had ruined my chance of happilly ever Roxette with this cheesy 80's Pop god..

Its taken me a month to write this post,due to the trauma that occurred when googling his marital status the next day and finding out he was already married...and im telling you..to some girl, who unlike me never let go of the Swedish babies and swedish house and Swedish kareoke system dream she had as a young girl.

This is a cautionary tale for young woman everywhere... Even if the man of your dreams wears stone washed jeans and has really really really bad hair, dont forget, love is love...so be proud of it.
Go on.
Listen to your heart.