Rewrite the rules

There are some very clever marketers out there.

I'm no bra burning feminist, but I do love the sentiment of this clip.

Rads

Flying home tomorrow peeps, can't wait!

So much to celebrate - my nephew's first birthday, one of my dearest friend's 31st birthdays and of course the Port v Bulldogs game at Adelaide Oval. So excited to catch some footy while I'm home, I've heard brilliant things about the ground.

There'll be lots of eating and drinking and cuddles with Dougall (the ferocious dog). 

Bring it xx

Adore-able

One thing I miss about living in my own home, is the freedom to decorate a shared space in your own taste.

I took great pride in my coffee table stack in my living room in the Rads, but my share house in Melbourne doesn't have a coffee table, nor the support of my housemates to extend my penchant for the colour pink beyond my bedroom.

So I was over the moon when my gorgeous friend Kelly (mother of the world's cutest Godson, Max) gave me the new Adore coffee table book for my birthday. It's pink and it's gold and it's fabulous.

And it's the perfect addition to my little sanctuary upstairs at home.

My friend Melissa and I went along to the launch at West Elm on Chapel Street (eeek, papped above!) and it was lovely to meet Loni . . . and enjoy a glass of bubbles or two. Kelly flew over that weekend and we joined Loni on the Adore Home Shopping Tour around Melbourne.

What a brilliant day we had discovering hidden gems in my adopted home. I was all over the shopping haunts in Radelaide, but out of the loop in Melbourne, so this was the perfect way to get my bearings and find new faves.

Lunch was also delicious!

The highlight for me was Montebello Emporium in Camberwell. Tina, you will love it here! I picked up a gorgeous box of Liberty notecards and they have heaps of Kate Spade stationery in stock.

It was a huge day of shopping and I've made lots of notes of where I want to go back - present shopping will be so much easier now that I've found my feet!

Check out the loot I picked up - and most of it was from the generous goody bags from Adore and Safari Living.

V spoilt.

Thanks for making it an Adore-able birthday, Kelly!

xx

A fairytale in the making

Who believes in fairytales?

Let me share a story with you . . .

I got a flat tyre over the long weekend and had no idea what to do. Normally my Dad would be able to fix it or now that I'm in Melbourne, I'd call on my housemate to help a sister out. But he's in Bali and my Dad's in the Rads and the hours of daylight are limited after work.

I don't normally need a car during the week as I can easily walk to work and the train station is at the end of my street, but I've just been invited to a fan-say ladies lunch on Thursday and needed the car for the occasion. I wasn't going to turn up with a sweaty brow and smelly pits at this shindig. No siree.

So, I youtubed 'how to change a flat tyre' yesterday and felt empowered to get my strong on.

The light was fading by the time I got home so I turned on my hazards and got to work emptying the contents of my boot. 

I had everything laid out neatly when a dashing young man stopped at his front gate on the way home from work and asked if I was okay . . . did I need any help?

Fiercely proud, determined and independent, I started with 'Oh thank you so much, but I'm going to give it a crack. I've never done it before, but I've googled it and should be fine . . . '

Then I faltered . . . 'Is it hard? Will I be okay? Surely I can do it on my own? Or not? I'll let you know if I need any help . . .'

And I caved 'Well, if you'd like to help, I'd love you to. Only if you want to though, are you sure? Thank you so much.'

He dumped his stuff and came to the rescue. Did I mention he was very good looking?

I kind of stood there helpless, holding my iPhone torch as close to the tyre without getting in the way (I was totally in the way). It was all very hot and sweaty work, he was down lying on his chest, pumping the jack, cranking the L shaped thing. So heroic.

We chatted about work, how I'd been living just two doors down for about a year - he, only a month. Just small talk.

Then we struck a stumbling block when one of the nuts on the tyre was different to the other three - it happened on all four tyres. Turned out the L shaped thing needed a special attachment at the end to fit that special nut. I found it in the boot, phew. Saved the day, I think he was impressed. (Do you like how I turned that around to be being the hero?!)

Anyway, I was able to flex my muscles and lift the new tyre into place - not without a struggle, I might add. I was very appreciative and at this stage, quite dirty (why couldn't I have washed my hair that morning? Or worn my super sucker-in-erer leggings instead of my really-thin-shows-all-the-bumps ones?).

I thanked him for his efforts and said he knew where to find me if ever he needed a cup of sugar. 

And we both went on with our lives.

Only once I was back inside my house did I remember a joke I'd had with my housemate earlier that day. She offered to try and get home early to help with the tyre, I said don't worry, I'm determined to do it on my on and who knows . . . I might meet my future husband!

So I rang a friend to work out what to do next. He wasn't wearing a ring, he was dressed very well and ever so handsome. And what lovely manners! Worth a crack!?

I rushed down to BWS to buy a bottle of Pepperjack Shiraz and turned to my present box (everyone's got one of those, don't they?) in my wardrobe to find a notecard to attach - in case he wasn't home. 

And look what I found in my Vanity Fair collection. Is this the most perfect card, ever!?

I taped the card (signed 'Cheers, Kate from #41') to the bottle and headed down the street to say thanks. (Props to Alice for not letting me change my outfit, wash my hair or apply lipstick. That would've been OTT. Good move).

I knocked, but no answer. I think I heard the shower going.

So I left it on the doorstep - out of the way, but hopefully visible next time he walks through the door.

The rest, my friends, is now in the hands of the Gods!

So we wait.

My housemate walked past this morning and said the bottle was gone. My guess is it's either been stolen, or his gorgeous, successful, perfect girlfriend has picked it up and used it in a beef bourgignon without telling him.

Regardless, it was a nice thing to do. Good manners never go out of fashion. That's what Tina told me anyway.

So there's a little bit of excitement for your average Tuesday night! If he gets in touch, I'll let you know. You will all be invited to the wedding!

Sailing away

A friend of mine from work is going sailing this long weekend. 

She laughed when I sent her this photo and asked if this is the type of sailing she had in mind.

No, she insisted she wasn't just a 'passenger' and actually got her hands dirty!

What are you up to this weekend? 

I have four sets of VIP friends visiting Melbs from all over. It's a bit crazy!

Tonight is dinner with my oldest friend and and her sister who's visiting from Adelaide; then Sunday I've got golf and drinks with my favourite bride-to-be and the girls (one of which is driving up from the country and the other flying in from Radelaide); then Monday is a juggling act between my Godson and his famillia who are also over from the Rads, and a friend from school who is visiting with her little fam from Canberra.

Can't say I lead a dull life!

Happy long weekend. Thank you Queen Lizzie for having a birthday xx

Spicing things up

Dreaming of Morocco today after a brilliant cooking class with the Head Chef of B'Stilla in the LG Kitchen at South Melbourne Markets last night.

Liam gave me a voucher for my birthday and it was brilliant. I'll share photos over the next week or so. The tagine was Out. Of. This. World.

TGIF friends x

Disappearing acts

Got the surprise of my life today when I opened my afternoon mamamia update.

I seriously thought one of my friends had taken an email I'd sent to them from earlier this year and published it for all to read . . .

"I was dating a guy for a while, and it seemed to be clicking along nicely. He talked about long-term stuff, he told his friends about me, he even introduced me to his sister.
And then he got abducted by aliens. Or fell off a cliff. Or died in frozen aisle of the supermarket. I’m not sure what happened, but he completely disappeared. As I like to call it, he did a Ghosty.
One minute he was inviting me over for the weekend, the next minute, poof! He’d turned into a ghost. No more calls, no more messages. No responses to the voice mails I left (just to be clear, I was extremely far from stalker territory. I was very restrained, considering I wanted to beat his door down just to kick him in the shin and run away). Our plans for the weekend were left hanging in mid-air. I still don’t know if he actually died. We weren’t connected on any social media, so I was left typing his name into Google to see if any obituaries came up.
For an extremely mild-headed girl, I was absolutely livid. Any excuse under the sun would have made me a lot happier than a Ghosty."

Words from my soul sister. Lucy Gransbury, you speak to me.

I've pretty much detailed the exact same experience to my friends across the country - here's looking at you Beth, Alice, Sally . . the list of victims is extensive. Apologies to my friends for these explosions of dating diarrohea.

They'd had it from me on numerous occasions these last few months. The same heartbroken emails, teary phone calls and texts of complete dismay. "How did it happen again?!"

Some of these boys are outlined here for your reading pleasure. But there have been more losers since March. At least three . . .

Seriously dudes, why can't you man up?

Take Lucy's advice and come up with an excuse - as lame as it is - and have the decency to end it. Don't leave me hanging. 

Read her article here. I LOVE it!

In the meantime, who's free tomorrow night? I've had some space cleared in my diary ...

*** Update 24 June 2014: I had breakfast with a friend on the weekend and she suggested that perhaps I should tone things down - we don't want my future husband coming across this post and mistaking me for a psycho, bitter single girl. So I've removed the specifics and names - I did Media Law at uni, I should know better than to slander!