Give me Mor!

 

 Please don't hate me.

I am about to tell you something that will have you spitting in envy, cursing and swearing with  green eyed jealous rage. (I've seen it and it ain't pretty!)

My lovely husband works hard everyday (he works hard for the money!) for a company that makes beauty products. And he occasionally gets to bring some samples home. Soaps, hair care, lotions and potions, make up and perfumes.

So I get my grubby little hands all over some of the most gorgeous goodies for free.

FOR FREE!!!!

I think the only way it could get any better is if his company made chocolate too. Can you imagine a more perfect job? Can you imagine a more perfect man?

Amongst all the gorgeousness I have been bestowed with I have discovered the divine concoction,

Marshmallow by Mor.

Now I had already tried some of the other Mor lovelies and swoon over any of their Blood Orange scented range, but the Marshmallow is a completely different scent with an amazing mix of sugar, musk, vanilla  and rose. After a spritz I feel like I have been given a fairy floss hug or had a kip in a marshmallow cloud .

 

Source

Yep, just like this! 

It is a totally addictive and delicious perfume. Really yummy! And that could be the only problem with it. It smells so mouth-wateringly yummy that when I waft by people get that slavering hungry look in their eyes like they could just devour me. It is that yummy!

I have no idea if it is available anywhere else in the world but if you ever have the opportunity to try any of the Mor products you will be overjoyed by their decadent and lush scents and beauty products.

Go on, everyone deserves a marshmallow hug!

 

Check out Mor cosmetics here

I am in no way connected to Mor, but I did love this product and happily endorse all of their range.

 



Keeping my cool

 

 

I am back at work again.

I could see no way to get around it. I hadn't won lotto and none of my family would break my leg for me so I could have a lovely little relaxing stay at home for a bit longer. Heartless bastards.

So I have had to return to the dragons lair and battle it out with my exasperatingly incompetent boss.

It boggles the mind that I work with completely confused and agitated dementia sufferers that are easier to work with and much more rational than my boss.

Hold tight while I have a little tanty to help me through

Aaaaarrrrrrgggghhhhh!

So I have been trying very hard to keep my cool. Be chilled. Think happy thoughts.

And sometimes I can. Sometimes.

And sometimes I have to go into a small supply cupboard where I have a voodoo doll of the offending woman and really get stuck into that little blighter.

Whatever gets you through, right?

Last week I was also trying to keep cool, but in a completely different way.

We were sweltering in Melbourne with days of 40 plus degrees leaving me a melted, sweaty mess.

My makeup decided it really didn't want to stay adhered to my face and my hair decided it wanted to hang limply and be frizzy at the same time.

And don't even get me started on inner thigh chaffing!

I had to try and pull together outfits that didn't make feel like spontaneously combusting as soon as I left the house.

I quite liked my cobalt blue Leona dress with some mustard accessories. And the fabric is deliciously light and comfortable.

I discovered this green frock at the bottom of my sewing pile, looking unloved and a little grotty, but also looking cool enough to wear in the heatwave. So after a soak, wash, nip and tuck it finally got some summer lovin'.

 And is there anything more suited to summer than this adorable vintage 'Anne Stooke" blue number? C'mon people it has a sun shining happily on my boob and a patchwork palm tree. Pure sunshiny happiness!
It also buttons up the back which it turns out is really hard to do when only your children are home to help .
We suffered through the heat, wilting and whinging and even had to get through a power shortage in our area during the hottest day. It only lasted a few hours but I was already frantic and planning how we would survive this apocalyptic world where not even McDonald's was open.

 

 Look at my poor crispy plants! Oh, I know how they felt.

 So we cooled off with yummy, ice cold smoothies.

 

 And lots of  banana Paddle Pops.
 We had to eat them when the power went off. It would have been terribly wasteful to let them melt in the slowly defrosting freezer, so we did our bit and ate them all.

 We also rediscovered the fun of our wading pool.
A whole lotta fun can be had in knee high water!



 

The pool and some icy cold drinks did the job nicely.

How do you keep cool?





Everyone loves a garden party (and hats of dubious shapes)

 

Last weekend I donned my glad rags, a beautiful 80's Laura Ashley frock in the most sublime greens and blues, and headed out with a gal pal to the city for an evening of drinkies and laughs.

And what better place to wear such a sweet, lady like dress than a garden party.

Well, kind of a garden party.

An indoor garden party! Confusing, right?

What isn't confusing is how gorgeous this dress is. I was instantly smitten by the cut and glorious floral pattern. I have another Laura Ashley, and find the frocks so beautifully made, and well cut so they fit like a dream and flatter the figure.

I had originally made a little lime green bolero to go with the dress and my heels but after trying it all on I had to tone it down a bit with the black accessories. I know, I know, what a cop out, but there really was a lot going on with the print and mad green colour. Here in Melbourne, amongst the sea of black everyone wears I kind of stuck out anyway!

So where was the garden party?

At the adorable Madame Brussels, a bar that is fitted out to look like you are outside in the garden, complete with vintage lawn furniture, fake turf and a brick path.

And if the cute decor, cheeky menu full of double entendre's  and terribly potent but completely delicious cocktails aren't enough, there are the wait staff. So obliging. So helpful. And so perfectly attired in retro tennis outfits. Yep, there is a whole lot of teeny tiny, tighty whitey's going on.

It is a wonderful place to enjoy a tipple and relax on the balcony if you are ever in Melbourne.

For such a civilised evening I thought it only proper to try out a new style of hat I devised.

I had a little play with my pattern so it wrapped around my head just so, and then drew it up.

And found that it looked suspiciously like a part of the male anatomy.

Hmmmmmm.

Is it my subconscious wanting me to parade around with a dick on my head?  I have been called a dick head many a time but don't think I have worn one before. I'm sure a therapist would have a field day!

Anyway, I followed the same plan as here, and made up felt flowers in shades to match my dress and sewed them on my, ahem, base , wired it all up and wore it with pride.

Such lovely colours!

It doesn't look like the a fore mentioned male appendage now, does it? Does it? But I know, and giggle and snicker like a teenager when ever I think about it. Te he he!

Small things amuse small minds!

Have you been anywhere fancy lately?



How now brown cow....

You know how I have strange feelings toward some colours.
Some feelings are easy to interpret. Like the feeling I get when I wear pink or red. All confidence and blushing cheeks and twinkling eyes and light hearted laughter and completeness.
But other colour feelings are a little trickier to interpret.
I have had a long held feud with the colour blue that I am slowly rectifying and making amends for with me dabbling in some delightful blue shades of late, and absolutely loving.
And I have a lifelong issue with brown. Its not that I don't like brown on other people. I do. I really do. And I envy their ability to wear the colour. But I think the crux of my brown abhorrence is that with my brownish hair, and brownish eyes if I actually wore brown I would turn into some sort of forgettable, fugly piece of 70's brown corduroy furniture. And who wants that?
So I stupidly steered clear of all things brown (even when I sooooo wanted those awesome tan boots!) because "I DO NOT WEAR BROWN".
And then a little while go I saw this dress for a couple of coins at the op shop. And yes it is most definitely brown. A rusty red brown with a cream pattern dancing across it, but still brown. But it was also such a lovely, easy style with sheer material, full skirt and comfy elastic waist to make it perfect for the heat wave we are enduring at the moment (sorry to all those snowed in, freezing-their-butts-off people across the globe!). But surely I could not wear brown. Could I?
But I DID buy the dress! Sure, it languished for a while in the wardrobe, but then I gathered all my courage, threw away my silly preconceived ideas and rules about brown and I did it.
I wore it!

I can't say that I wasn't self conscious in this outfit. I was. I was pretty sure I heard a man whisper " mumble, mumble, brown, mumble." And all heard was, "Damn she looks like a bad piece of old doctors waiting room furniture!"  But the point is I wore the frock, and I will wear it again. Because it is good to challenge ourselves and get out of our comfort zone ruts .And it really is a lovely shade. For brown.

 

My brown frock gave me the chance to use my cool vintage basket bag that hardly ever gets to play outside.

So there you go, breaking the rules, being a huge brown rebel and revelling in my devil-may-care attitude. Who would have though I had it in me!

Do you have clothes rules? Have you ever broken your own rules?

 



The apple of my eye

 

I am thoroughly enjoying my vacation time and am not entirely sure I can ever go back to work.

Nup, I just don't think my body, mind and spirit are up to it yet.

Maybe after a bit more time home. Like three years. Then I will see if I'm up to it.

Whilst making the most of my break we have been out and about, doing kid friendly activities and trying to fit in some mum friendly activities, like op shopping, as well.

I have dragged my poor little fella around to all of my local haunts, bribing him with a book from each and assuring him in each one that I will be "only five minutes more!"

The good boy complains a little, but at least not as much as his father. Yet!

I have had some lovely thrifted spoils lately with a few new frocks including this vintage inspired shirt waister in black with white polka dots.

 

 

It really is the most classic of combo's - black, white with a dash of red. You can't go wrong!

And this dress is so comfortable and so stylish, and with us in Melbourne expecting some scorchers this week, perfect for the hot weather.

 

 

And one of my new old brooches, the little rosy red apple, seems to be made for the ensemble.

I was overjoyed to discover this collection of lovelies at the same op shop and when told that I could have them all for 50 cents, was positively ecstatic.

 

 

Aren't they all adorable? I felt almost guilty handing over that measly amount. Guilty but still happy!

Another week of holidays to fit in more adventures, with us planning on visiting the old Melbourne Gaol (we are all a little obsessed after our Geelong gaol trip!), the beach, going roller skating and maybe, if I am lucky, a few more op shops. Fingers crossed!

 



This isn't a drinking game, this is craft!

 

 

I promise I didn't drink everything in the decanters. Pinky promise!

Remember my recently thrifted mid century shelves.

 

 

Fabulous? Yes. A little bare? Definitely.

So I have been gradually trying out different bits and bobs on the shelves, evolving them until I was kind of happy. But something was always missing.

Colour! Lots of colour!

So I had the idea of adding a heap of cool coloured glass. But do you know how much vintage vases and bottles cost? More than I have that is for sure, so being a tight wad on a budget, I decided to buy some gorgeous old decanters from op shops and have myself a little colour party.

 

 

I have always loved the different shapes and styles of these decanters.

So instead of filling these beauties with scotch and whiskey I poured a different colour of craft paint into each, swirled the paint around so the inside surface is completely covered and then let dry for a while. Tip the decanter upside down to remove any excess paint and hey presto! Cool coloured glass!

 

Of course there were some casualties. A tip - don't use old paint. It is really gluggy and won't swish around inside the bottle.  It also seems to contract and leave patchy areas.  Also, maybe put down some paper so you don't create a huge mess like I did.  I was finding splodges of paint EVERYWHERE, even days later.

 

 

I am really happy with the results. I can't decide which one I like the best, but there is something about that turquoise colour that really speaks to me.

 

 

And I managed to complete all of my bottles for the price of one of those fancy bottles I was  lusting after on eBay! Huzzah!

I did however unearth a gorgeous (and very reasonably priced!) genie bottle whilst in Geelong that seems to have been made for my new cabinet. More huzzahs!

 

 

Now my shelves are full of vibrant colour and although I can't help moving things about constantly as the mood takes me, I absolutely love it all.

What sort of crafty things have you been up to lately?



Geelong, gaols and ghosts

I am sitting here, feet tucked under me, cup of tea at hand, relishing the feeling of being home.

I should be doing laundry and unpacking. But I am not. I am relishing.

Home, sweet, home!

We went on a teeny, tiny Geelong adventure and had a whole lotta fun doing our usual Geelong activities; admiring the stunning waterfront area and ridiculously beautiful homes and buildings in the area;

snooping around antique shops and making endless mental wish lists;

devouring mouth watering crepes (it wouldn't be Geelong without a trip to Panache Creperie - it is a much loved tradition!);

swimming, playing, laughing, dancing and trying to meet every one of the cool waterfront bollards.

 

Whilst we have adventured in Geelong many a time, we discovered on this trip, that the old Geelong Gaol is open to the public. And who can resist a trip to a scary and haunted old gaol?

Now I may not have mentioned this before, but I am obsessed by the gory, the ghoulish and the ghostly.Yep, I love anything otherworldly and spooky.

I love reading about spooks and spectres. I love a spine chilling, goose pimpling good ghost tale. I love watching TV about ghosts (especially those crappy cable ghost hunting shows!) and nothing floats my boat more than the idea of exploring an old haunted building.

So off we traipsed, through the enormous blue stone arch of Geelong Gaol's entrance and into the building which first opened its doors to prisoners in 1853 to eventually house about 150 inmates.

Walking in was truly like going back in time, even though the prison housed inmates until 1991.
 

The cells are so tiny (approximately 4m long, 2m wide and 3 m high), so basic and so soul destroyingly barren. When you enter these cells, the feelings of horror, sadness and of utter desolation are palpable, almost suffocating.

 

We wandered through the three story building, peeking through the cell door hatches (and always expecting a face to lurch out of the shadows menacingly!) and reading about all manner of fascinating prison facts. What I found most interesting (and heartbreaking!) were the photos and criminal records of some of the former prisoners, dating back to the 1890's. Most were jailed for such trivial matters such as indecent language, no means of living, vagrancy, and many of these inmates were women who had simply fallen on hard times and were simply trying to eek out some sort of meagre existence.

 

Despite the oppressive and morbid atmosphere, we all were enthralled by our afternoon spent at the gaol and my kids haven't stopped raving about it.

 

 

There were so many delicious thrills and frights and we all learnt so much about the gaols history, our penal system and human nature. Amongst many topics we discussed was exactly how much money would it take to stay there at night. Alone. The answer? I'd do it for 20 thou but I would probably be completely grey, babbling and drooling when they came to open the doors for me in the morning!

And no, we didn't spot any spirits on our tour, but despite not seeing them we could feel them.

They lingered there behind every heavy cell door, in all of the impenetrable shadowy corners and in every moan of the wind whipping through the cells slit windows.

I'd love to think that all of the souls are finally free, but I feel that there are many that are still attached to that stone building and may remain there forever.

I have pored over my photo's of the day and can't see any strange shapes or shadows.
Can you?