Last week The Man took a day off work and surprised me with a picnic. We didn’t bring any food and ended up at the Breakfast Creek Hotel beer garden across the road but still, it was one of my favourite picnics. Sunshine, green grass, beautiful views of the river. And getting to hang out with The Man on a school day – I loved it!Cardigan: WitcheryDress: CueBelt: Valley GirlRing: DivaBag: GiftVintage tablecloth: Fernvale Markets

Friday was such a good day. Really, there are so many cool things happening right now. I can’t divulge them all just yet… But know this… I am winning! And what better way to celebrate said winning than to wear your new, surprise gift…Cherry Red Doc Martens! Oh my good god. Let me tell you the story. Catherine (my 12th grade English teacher) and I have stayed in touch. We write each other good, old fashioned “put-pen-to-paper-stick-a-stamp-on-and-find-a-mail-box” letters a couple of times a month. (As well as these new whizz-bang

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Took a train to the station… Well, really I walked to the station. Then I took a train. But it sounds less like a country song when I explain it. Here’s the story: I waited for a train, enjoying the winter sunshine… And admiring my polka dot tights and the fact that they’d lasted so long compared to the others I’d owned. The train arrived and took me to the City. Um, something something something…I dyed my hair. Yup, worst country song ever. And it started off so well, right?

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I had such high hopes for this long weekend. 3 days of goofing off and rocking fantastic outfits. But turns out, the sickness gods had other plans and saw fit to smite The Man and I. As I write this we’ve currently taken up residence on the couch surrounded by tissues and empty tea cups.  Rather than subject you to photographic evidence – here’s a post from the week before last…. It’s a good day today. In fact, it’s glorious. Yep:  [glawr-ee-uhs, glohr-]adjective 1. delightful; wonderful; completely enjoyable I walked

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I’ve had a couple of requests that I dish about the goodies I found in Sydney. And hey, I please to aim. So here you go. Might I just note that this is an edited version. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to see the thermal pajamas that I bought and have worn pretty much constantly since. Or the underwear. Maybe you do, but this ain’t that kind of blog. Oh and of course the sweater I wore yesterday. And a book. But aside from all that here is what

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We took a whirlwind trip to Sydney on Friday (Catherine the next one is directed at you!) and shopped our butts off! I mean we wore our feet fair into the ground. It was totally worth it though. And just SO much fun! It was a trip we’ve wanted to take for ages. Down with empty bags (just carry on) and back the next day with them bulging.  And would you believe they didn’t weigh our luggage there or back? Winning! Perhaps I should have bought more books… We stayed

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I cut my hair today and now it’s not talking to me. Does anyone else’s hair do this? Or is just mine… It could be the best cut in the world (and it was! Guys! Papas and Pace…seriously – go! And ask for Tim. Tell ’em I sent you) but it gets all sulky for like 3 days. Oh sure, in public it acts like everything’s fine. But once we’re alone it’s a whole different story. It’s like a petulant teenager. I can’t reason with it and it’s determined to

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It’s my day off. It’s raining. I have a free hot chocolate waiting with my name on it and a $10 Myer birthday voucher with my name on it too. I got whistled at on the way to the train. I took a chance on a new route and as luck would have it walked straight onto said train. And my outfit? Love! I’m happy to say that since my revelation I’ve adorned myself with torn denim, flannel, army green sweaters and striped thermals. And today we welcome the first

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 Friends, gather round. For today I have a tale to tell. Almost 11 years ago now I, a bright eyed babe of a mere 18, came upon a vintage store whilst out with my Mum. Intrigued we entered. And lo, like a shining light from our lord John Hughes himself were the exquisite Doc Martens you see before you. I was but a simple girl. An Australian abroad in a far off land where people parted with such awe inspiring shoes after a mere trip or two around the block.

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Ah moving. It’s a…well, it’s a thing. I’ve done it a whole lotta (90+ now) times. Somehow I remember it being easier when I was a kid. Clearly this is because I would wake up, go to school and come home with everything put away. My Mother The Wonder Woman. I swear. I am slightly less wondrous I think. Or maybe, I’m doing it wrong. I need to leave the house and come home and it will all be done. Right? Right??? All images of the nice things in our

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