Close your eyes and think about what you were doing 10 years ago. Can you remember—to the day? This year marks 10 years of publishing Lady Melbourne and because the Internet is the Internet, I can go back in time and see what I published, even down to the date and time of day.
Photography is a huge component of blogging, especially blogging that involves commenting on some sort of aesthetic, like fashion.
Annoyed and staring at the ceiling, my addled sleep-interrupted mind started drifting and I found myself wondering: “What the hell is contouring?”
How on earth did shoulder pads ever become a trend? Leggings as pants? Do we need to talk about perms? Ugly trends have been…
Recently I was inspired by an article I read in Who What Wear daily on career tips from some of the fashion industries most successful women.
Two things struck me: how helpful this would have been to me when I was starting in my career, and why isn’t there the same from Australian women? So I made one!
It’s beyond a trend when you can buy what were once obscure seeds in the aisles of your local supermarket, and celebrity chefs promote activated almonds as part of your everyday diet. Superfood it seems, is here to stay.
So where do you begin?
Aside from the obvious observation that it will bring new customers (and hopefully more of them) to the CBD for a shopping experience, the fact remains that the GPO has life in it yet, and that’s a good thing for Melbourne retail.
This week’s idea is around what colour means to you, and how you apply that to various occasions in your life. There are common traditions like black or dark colours for a funeral or a bride wearing white for example. And I’m aware that these traditions extend to all sorts of variations depending on your cultural or ethnic heritage.
But what about colour and occasions? I’m off to a wedding shortly and thought about what colour I should wear.
Imagine the bizarre sensation of reading an email from a woman who has met your ex boyfriend in a bar, and forgot to get his contact details. The boyfriend you thought you might once marry.
He mentioned you in passing, and thanks to Google she’s found you and now asks ‘would you be so kind as to pass on my details as I’d love to see him again.’
I actually laughed out loud, closed the email and walked away from my computer to make a cup of tea. Was this a joke?
On closer inspection of the email however, I realised that it wasn’t. This woman wanted my help hooking up with my ex.
Is your personal look or ‘brand’ more important than the occasion I wonder?
Ignoring a dress code, tradition or standard, says, ‘the way I look is more important than the occasion.” And let’s face it, hats are hard to get right and no one wants to end up on the pages of a celebrity mag being lampooned for what you’re wearing.
But if you are being paid to show up, or even if you’re not, the least you can do is look the part.
Now, in 2013 we have the phenomena of ‘selfies,’ and with that a growing trend for them to be taken while half naked and pouting. This is generally the domain of teenage girls, desperate for peer approval about everything from their looks to their dress sense. In a recent article published on The Age, Olymia Nelson wrote: “seeing some of these images can feel too intimate. It’s almost as though we’re peering through a window. Some photos may be of girls showing skin, or girls lying on a bed. Just about all are seeking some sort of approval from their friends. The aim is not to communicate joy but to score a position.”
I’m left wondering, what more do we want to see?
By spending the last couple of weeks delightedly tripping about the streets of New York, I’ve come to realise that there is most definitely an American girl. I’m not sure you could say the same for Australia, I think we perceive that the ‘Australian woman’ is some sort of beautiful Frankenstein stitch-up of Jennifer Hawkins and Miranda Kerr, but it’s simply not the case.
And while I also realise that it is a sweeping generalisation to say there is an American type, I hope you will permit me to relay what I’ve seen and why I’ve seen it thus.
I thought my interview with Miranda Kerr would be over before it had even begun.
My opening question about recent controversy surrounding the at times extreme diet and exercise measures taken by the ‘Angels’ in the lead up to the Victoria Secret Fashion Show had the PR’s hopping from foot to foot and rushing to intercept.
‘No no, it’s fine. They’re going to say no, but I’m saying it’s ok,’ Miranda says as we sit in a private suite overlooking Melbourne on the 23rd floor of Crown Towers.
The overwhelming reaction to the FELLT network launching here in Australia wasn’t that it was a bad thing for bloggers to make money. Rather, it was the approach. Managers, agencies and in particular a closed network only available to a chosen few seemed to rub the fashion blogging community the wrong way.
Today on Twitter a storm in a teacup erupted over the use of the term journalists in reference to bloggers that are part of a new and invitation only blogging platform. Here’s what I think.
In 2012 I’ve decided to mix things up a little bit and add a monthly opinion piece written by a fabulous fellow blogger. They will be humorous, serious, opinionated and are aimed to get you thinking about fashion in a completely different way.
While on a recent shopping expedition I happened upon a lovely dress in Zara. The ‘S’ hadn’t fit, the ‘M’ was snug and the ‘L’ was perfect. The only other size available was XL.
If you have ever felt like this when shopping, you’re not alone. Women face this problem everyday in shops all over Australia, as there is no standard clothing size used in the Australian fashion industry.
Call it what you will I’ve seen the sands shift and change in this area so rapidly over the last year not to mention three years so I thought I’d take some time to reflect upon just what makes us get along online. This post is aimed at common courtesies I’m seeing left out, forgotten or just done in a way that annoys everyone from the reader to the blogger.
Toppling from my heels towards the floor, in that exact moment I knew I had seriously damaged my ankle. I had no idea what I’d done, but the excruciating twinge that shot from my ankle up my leg told me that something was seriously amiss.