Fairy Tale World.

John Galliano will be dressing your kids, via Diesel. 

Having created fairy tale worlds for adults over the years, John Galliano and Diesel are dipping into the profitable children's wear market to create similar fairy tale realities for children. 

A pretty good way to spoil the already too-spoilt child.

Lights.

Camera, Action.

Delicious.

It's delicious. And red.

Stimulating.

Now that the $900 is safely in my account, I think it is fair to say that I haven't been this stimulated by a politician since the Pauline Hansen nudes. 

Deer Dana.

Dear Deer Dana,

You have fantastic graphics on your t-shirts. 

I actually laughed out loud when I saw this one.

Only problem is, Deer Dana, I didn't know if I could actually wear it in public. Like, is it work appropriate? Can I wear it around small children? How likely am I to be arrested?

And now it is sold out. 

Heartbreak. And Bondage. 

If you could somehow make this appear in my little hands, I may feed you apples for the rest of your life. Just like the picture. Depending on geographical issues. Like, if apples actually grow where you exist.

Thanks.

Love, 

Stumpy. 

Extra Hearts.

Giraffes have four hearts. Which makes them extra easy to love. 

Hipster Food Chain.

Laughing at the expense of a hipster is no more than the vice of the guilty hipster.

Let me explain with my hipster foodchain here.

Now, lets consider a defintion of 'hipster'.

\hip-stur\n. One who possesses tastes, social attitudes, and opinions deemed cool by the cool. (Note: it is no longer recommended that one use the term "cool"; a Hipster would instead say "deck.") The Hipster walks among the masses in daily life but is not a part of them and shuns or reduces to kitsch anything held dear by the mainstream. A Hipster ideally possesses no more than 2% body fat.

-Via The Hipster Handbook, Robert Lanham Typically a Hipster can be identified by vintage or thrift-store bougt clothing, a taste for obscure or underground music, a penchant for irony and an elitist attitude.

At the top of the food chain sit the hipster elite. Think the likes of Mr. Gavin McInnes, creator of the hipster iconic VICE magazine "DOs and DON'TS". The success in his formula is owed to the way he feeds off the hipster masses. Mocking those who think they're cool enough to get away with it, and celebrating those who don't give a fuck. A guy too blazed for a real job, yet blazed enough to create sardonic and ironic commentaries to feed his munchie cravings. The likes of these hipster elite sit at the top. Noone destroys them. The hipster masses only feed them.

So, next in line are the hipster masses. The top of the food chain owe their success to mocking this group. And this group feed the elite by lapping up their work. This is achieved because in order to be a hipster one must have a penchant for irony, and an elitist attitude. Can laugh at their own expense? Check. Think enough of themselves to cop it on the chin? Check. Irony and elitist? Check. They continue to act in the ways that are mocked, because being mocked can only serve to make them more of a hipster. The mocking is seen as a badge of honour, making them feel judged as 'cool by the cool'.  

These masses of hipsters feed on the next in line, the mainstream. These are the people who infiltrate your music festivals, topless or draped in flags. Their backs sweat, and they destroy all that is hip by reducing it to popular mainstream overkill. You may argue that they belong at the top of the food chain, because they clearly have the greatest ability to destroy all that is hip. But you'd be wrong. The hipsters feed off them by rejecting all that they accept. Those bands that today.fm play, no longer hip. Those music festivals? That fashion? No. The hipsters continue to push their boundaries further and further away from what is accepted by pop culture. And, they feed off them further by refusing to give the mainstream any status. How many ironic blogs/zine sections/commentaries do you see dedicated to mainstream bashing? None with iconic hipster status. Instead, any gripe they have with this group is discussed quietly, amongst friends. No status granted. The more they reject this group, the hipper they become.

Oh, the irony. You hipster.

He Just Likes You.

Found somewhere.

Gone With The Wind.

I was pretty envious today, when whilst driving to the city, I saw a kite flying over the bay. For the last few weeks I have sworn my new craft project will be kite making. However the reality isI suffer a severe lack of motivation, and have failed to make any productive use of my time, so as to realise my kite flying dreams. 

Pretty sure I was deprived of this past time as a child, and I'm slipping back into childhood behaviour. But, whatever. It looks fun. 

If you want clean fun, go fly a kite.

Weekend Oh-Nos.

Nice leggings, dude. 

Seriously, couldn't get any shinier. And sorry, I couldn't help but laugh as I walked past. But, this is two serious fashion crimes. Firstly, these 'wet-look' leggings are such overkill that it looks like they've been drowned. Or, alternatively, like she dressed at the butcher this morning and asked him to stuff her legs into some kind 

of sausage skin. 

Second, and I thought this one was basic. Wear something that covers your ass! They're leggings. Not pants. And you are not Russell Brand. 

Other than this, weekend highlights included passion pop at the ski lodge, street fighting, foam party surprise, 2am lockout fence jumping victory, then fail. illegal two-up clean streak. homelessness and showers in a can. hospitality. realising that your band sucks, and your band is one of the best live bands to watch in sydney. new band crushes. vengabus, twice, in one weekend(!!) winning dj sets. bones, bones, bones!  1 hour sleep, epic walking and all kinds of pain. real, actual, all-over pain.

When The Love is Gone.

We move on...

Foxes, birds, otters, penguins, and countless other members of the animal kingdom... They all mate for life. 

Now, I'm not exactly romantically inclined. But, if these animals are capable of certainty in their relationships, then why aren't we?

We're a complicated species. And I guess we owe our evolutionary success to this fact. 

Yet, when it comes to love, are we overcomplicating m-otters?

(Yes, I just watched Sex and the City. Hence the cheesy rhetorical).

 

Cadbury Favourites.

I've nothing better to do than adore the two blogs, by the bloggers I dance, drink, and injure myself with. 

Loveless.

Hopelessly romantic, and recklessly passionate. She gives into the moment in a way I can only envy. She's tall enough to keep her head above the bullshit, but wise enough to stay down to earth. The same people, yet polar opposites.

  

She Steals Tarts.

She steals tarts, and wins hearts. The wisest teenager I have ever met. A dark horse, and creative talent. Quietly observes, quietly achieves, and never sneezes. Is selfless beyond belief. With bad gum karma.   

Mullet.

Gross outgrown-pixie haircut turn mullet is gone.

I feel new again.

Wicker Chair.

In your little white wicker chair

Unsuspicious and nobody cares for you

You’re so fucked up again

You laugh at nothin’ in the pouring rain

Try to tell yourself you’re not insane

You fool, I hate you sometimes

Hey, you know it ain’t coincidental that you’re lost in place

It’s drippin’ off your face, and you’re losin’ your precious mind

Send me a postcard if you get that far

You got a couple pennies in your rusty jar

The truth you’ve been gone for awhile

It’s hard lookin’ at you when you look that way

With your one night stands and you sleep all days

Ooh you’re such a slut sometimes

Hey, you know it ain’t coincidental that you’re lost in place

It’s drippin’ off your face, and you’re losin’ your precious mind

You’re losing your mind.

Kings of Leon

Pot Psychology.

Psychoanalysis at it's most amusing. 

Get high, and solve the real issues. Like, is it weird to masturbate with a stuffed animal?

"Kind of makes me want to keep doing drugs."

Pot Psychology, where everyones problems are solved with a herbal remedy, here

Road Rage.

Today I drove past two drivers who must really hate people, and life. 

First culprit, September 11 conspiracy theorist. 

This guy was sporting multiple bumper stickers which suggested that September 11 was a government conspiracy. 

The dude had images of the burning towers, plastered onto the back of his car. Wow. 

Example;

We're all entitled to a little conspiracy theory, but really. Aren't bumper stickers of this nature just going to ensure you're the victim of road rage? 

I'd like him to road test their success on American roads. 

Second culprit. At first didn't justify my attention. Just driving an unassuming family car. 

Then he kept driving 60 in an 80 zone. I got bored. I read his numberplate. I laughed. 

People with msn-inspired number plates really need to fail their driving tests. 

RUAQT2?

Well, RUAQT2. I'm sure there's been plenty of QT's. But they don't want to ride in the backseat of your VOLVO.

Must Be Something in the Air.

This one is for the lazy cocktail drinker. 

Ever found sipping on a martini an arduous task? Ever wish you could get seriously drunk, whilst just being?

Ever wanted to breath in an alternative to the industrial London air?

Well, if you're in London, then you're in luck. At least until the 25th of April. 

Bompas and Parr Bar have created a new concept, a vapourised cocktail. For 5 pounds, visitors can enter for  the maximum time of an hour, and breath in the vapourised gin and tonic, for 

a 'chemical' experience. 

The price seems to be about on par to other London 'chemical' experiences, so you might think about giving this one a spin. Creators of the concept have said, "You had different experiences. If you breathed in through your nose it was very chemically, but if you breathed in through your mouth you had a very different experience as well. So it was like being in a steam room but sort of a dry ice room."

Okay. So that quotation makes very little sense to me, but perhaps that is indicative of the results associated with excess vapour consumption. Luckily they advise people to 'breath responsibly'.

Skull Baggery.

Really digging this Skull Wrist Bag by Natalia Brilli. Leather and skulls make quite the fetish. 

It'll only set you back $1595, and you can buy it exclusively from Becker Mintey Woman, cnr Macleay Street and Greenknowe Avenue, Potts Point. 

Found via Michi Girl, who will send you cool newsletters, predict the weather for you, and draw cute pictures for your inbox. 

Domestic Goddess.

Vanilla Cupcake, with Tim Tam icing and Nutella centre surprise! 

Because sometimes I like to be the wholesome-housewife type.

Vomit Cuteness.

This is seriously adorable, and sick. Sick Sick Sick. An internet series, dedicated to cute. 

More at: 

The Cute Show

Watch things be ridiculously cute, like cupcakes, bunnies and kittens. 

European Dads.

Don't tell your dad, but...

The ever awesome Chloe Sevigny was seen rocking your dad's oldest fashion faux pas at Coachella recently. Socks, and sandals. 

German tourists are going to be so hot around Sydney, right in time for Sydney Fashion Week.

Nudity. Booze. Youth.

Nakedness, bonding, branding, bondage, youth, scooters, Odense to Poland, nudity, self discovery, booze, nudity, nudity and Michael Noer.

Sound like your thing?

Watch the preview for his film, De Vidle Hjerter. And go and see it, somehow.

Without Music.

Seeing Sigur Ros live came close to a spiritual experience. The air was strange, probably scented with weed. The crowd waited eagerly, but sat, waiting calmly.

He hit this note, that seemed to go on forever, never faulting. 

Amazing. 

So, please do yourself justice, and watch this Sigur Ros clip. It is just as inspiring as a live performance, if not more.

It is a group of incredibly beautiful children with Down Syndrome, who make it their business to have more fun in their lives than we do. 

They take their dance seriously, yet seem to have no inhibitions.

Watch it, get inspired, dance like they're watching you.

It's Bugging Me.

How cute this ladybug jumper is. 

Minimarket. 

Be whimsical, buy it. You'll be the cutest bug out.

Perfect Boy Fashion.

Via Lookbook.

DUI.

Dancing under the influence:

Perspective.

Sometimes catastrophes become trophies.

 

LATFH.

Laugh in the face of Hipsters. Over at new blog, lookatthisfuckinghipster.

So hip, it hurts.

“If I didn’t already know I was listening to Animal Collective on these headphones, I would bet myself $100 that I was listening to Animal Collective on these headphones.”

The New Guard.

Another high-five to e-commerce. Check out this new online store

thenewguard

For the likes of Ksubi, Tina Kavalis, E L L E R Y and Therese Rawsthorne. 

E-commerce will ruin me.

Stella McCartney gets Lucky.

Stella McCartney's love of animals has sometimes been a little weird. Flashbacks of drinking rat milk, anyone? But here is one manifestation of her love that I can totally appreciate. 

Meet Lucky Spot. He's no less than 3 m tall, and made from no less than 8,000 Swarovski Crystals.

Each strand is hung individually from the ceiling to recreate the rearing horse form, creating one of the greatest chandelier concepts I think I have ever seen.

The pictures speak for themselves... 

This one's for Sooz. Courtesy of Bloom.acious.

Guilty.

You judged me in a moment of poor judgment. 

That was poor judgment, on your behalf.

Tango.

Michael Crowe wrote a letter, enveloped it, and left it for strangers: 

It compelled people, strangers, to be on the steps of the V&A at a specified time and date, holding two oranges. 

He'd be there to meet them, exactly a minute after the specified time.

No small talk, no greeting. Just a mutual recognition, aided by both holding oranges. 

After 10 seconds, he would drop the oranges, take his camera, and photograph the strangers; capturing their confusion/amusement/beauty.

There was a secret in his formula. 

When he dropped his oranges, they'd float to the sky. They were actually two small, orange, helium balloons. 

Here are his results:

Pretty rad guy. Go see his ideas at fig crumbs.

Lomo Loco/Loco Lomo.

Get some film. Get lost. Find an adventure.

Photo adventures.

I'm such a value-pick.

McDonalds got Fran-sized! 

Way too excited about tiny, miniature frozen cokes, and the fact that I can actually finish them. 

Snob Scrilla.

Go buy "Day One" by Snob Scrilla over at itunes, now!

NOW!

The dude is fun.
And likes video games.

Easter Eggs.

I think our post-going-out injuries have taken on a new level. And I may love it. 

Falling down stairs x 2, plus body slams to the floor resulting in very awesome bruises and epic easter-eggs on foreheads. 

Actually don't think I spent too much money last night. The concussion pulled me through!

We are classy ladies. 

Wife potential.

Never fall asleep on an empty stomach.

We can get married if you take me home, and this is actually your bed. 

WOW.

Hiding in the shadows.

Shadow puppetry is a serious art, if Blifaloo are anything to go by.

Shadow puppetry should make a come back. As should cloud watching.

What are you hiding?

We've all got skeletons in our closets.

RubyNZ

dot com.

Plastic Kills Penguins.

I've talked about plastic bag animals for a long time now, but they still seem to be my favourite street art. Besides, street art seems to be one of the few progressions art can take at the moment..

They're made by a street artist who has been revealed as Joshua Allen Harris. Basically, he gets used plastic bags and creates fairly intricate models of animals. Next step; tie them to a New York subway grate! If you catch them as a subway passes under, the hot air from the vent will make the bag rise, and dance. If you're not lucky enough to get them at the right time, they look like common waste; which I guess makes a statement in itself. 

Check out Youtube to see how crazy they can get!

Sydney got Grill'd!

Crows Nest has become a haven for good burgers. 

I rarely speak as passionately about things, as I do about burgers. 

So trust me. 

If you're in/around Sydney, venture to The Counter Burger, for

 all your custom burger needs.

Or, the new addition to Sydney's Burger Kingdom, Grill'd. As seen in QLD, Melbourne and Newcastle!

(Picture from first Grill'd experience.)

No fork spoon or knife needed. 

C-April

Get your cape on for the month of Cape-ril.

Love Love Love Anzevino and Florence:

 

Post-it.

For if you ever find a little spare time at work...

Which?

Intellect/Skepticism?

Are you one, without the other?
Are they mutually exclusive?
Where are the lines drawn, and blurred?

Excess Baggage.

Introducing, Baggy.

We've got to let him out again.

Time ticks after all of us.

I held on to a strange fantasy of youth for far too long.

Innocence is prone to fetishism.

In that it becomes asphyxiating.
I can't breath.

This Peter Pan gig is up;
We’re powerless to the croc, and his ticking clock.

Model City?

Sometimes I think that Sydney-siders rate themselves as a bit of a model city. The attitudes of many seem to be that they are beautiful people who want only to be surrounded by other beautiful people and beautiful things.

However, perhaps we need to start considering ourselves a model city in a 'miniture' rather than 'beautiful' sense, reminding ourselves that on a global scale we really are just a tiny city.

Keith Loutit is a Sydney photographer who combines several photography techniques to capture real scenes in a way which depict man made models. Check him out, and put Sydney into perspective.