You're so Vain...

...I bet you thought this perfume was named for you.

I had a blog before the hipsters did.

You All Knew I Was No Good...

I've had songs from Back to Black on my mind all day. When celebrities die - as they often do after year-long dalliances with drugs and booze- I don't usually feel very sad at all. They're a dime a dozen. But Winehouse was one of my favourite artists this decade, arguably one of the most talented musicians to emerge since Ella Fitzgerald and Janis Joplin, and a major fuck-up. A beautiful, tragic fuck-up, almost. Great biography material. Now, with her untimely but inevitable death on Saturday, the troubled soul singer from London has joined Kurt Cobain, Joplin, Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix as the newest addition to the infamous '27 Club.'

As a tribute to Winehouse, her official website now displays only this photograph of the late singer, in memory of her rapid rise and tragic fall.

A Queen's Sympathies.

The Queen of England has sent condolences to the Norwegian people on behalf of the Duke of Edinburgh and Her Royal Highness following Friday's tragedy.

To King Harald of Norway she wrote the following: "I am deeply saddened and shocked by the tragic loss of life of so many people on the island of Utoya and in Oslo."

The Royal Norwegian Embassy in Belgrave Square, central London, flies the nation's flag at half-mast.

                                          That awkward moment when...

...the psychic fair gets cancelled.

courtesy: thatawkwardmoment.co.uk

The Truth is...

...anyone can blog.

Elle & Dakota

When pretty blonde picture-sisters Elle and Dakota Fanning sat for VOGUE's annual Age Issue they each took on very different seating arrangements for their debut portrait.

Dakota (17) and Elle (13) have been working in the spotlight since toddlerhood. It was only a matter of time before powerful agents of glamour Marc Jacobs and department store Bloomingdales snapped up Dakota's fresh-faced youthful look to promote a new fragrance, Oh, Lola!

When you choose to do this with your life, you’re in the public and people watch you. But I’d rather do this than not.

Not even an awkward silence to speak of.

I fear  that I am halved.

at last, could you call it sobriety?

It is a cool, brown season now.

In this mild north

I’ll curl into my hedgehog self,

oft snout hid in a prickly fist.

Primal Places.

                In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

                A stately pleasure-dome decree:

                Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

                Through caverns measureless to man

                Down to a sunless sea.

Genuine Leather, Faith and Academia.

Judging by my collection of books, I could be:

a) planning a backpacking trip to either Europe or New York City

b) a novice calligrapher with a love of the Romantics

c) a yoga practitioner with a keen interest in economics

d) a naturalist who reads French children's books

Memories all in a line, printed in black and white.

A robust collection of leather bags.

SODA.

The candy-stripes on the top wardrobe doors give the room a playful barber shop charm.

This old chair is given a new reason to live again with a simple upholstery job using scrap material from my sewing box.

Accents.



Collapsible storage boxes: Mr Price Home

Space is precious in any room. These collapsible white storage boxes add interest to any space as well as function as useful containers for any crap you simply couldn't bring yourself to throw out, but would still like to keep unseen.



Hanging hearts from StillLife.

Perspex wall sticker bought in Montpellier, France.

Bedside Charms.

Alarm clock: Mr Price Home. Diary: Exclusive Books. Owl: sister's art project.

Alarm clocks can make trusty bedside friends - once you've taken the batteries out. This little stainless steel one looks great on my nightstand, but once the ticking starts you'll be up until its early morning wake-up call. Not so pretty.

Cushions: Mr. Price Home. Wallpaper: Fired Earth at Builder's Warehouse

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon

The finished product of my six-week long holiday project: Bedroom Revamp.

0834319513

Remember I had those theories about who could possibly be behind the mysterious signage spotted in central Cape Town and surrounds? Turns out it's an 'interactive social project slash satirical experiment' and it has a name: 0834319513.

Intrigued citizens have even dialled the number, reaching a voice recording that'll 'probably call back later.' I imagine there's heavy call traffic for 'Nose Jobs' in Fresnaye, or 'Dassie Biltong' in Woodstock.

Here is the collection of signs which have appeared all over the city in the past few months (except for the odd one to fall victim to night-time revelry in Long Street).

want more?

http://0834319513.blogspot.com/

Grahamstown in Pictures.

"This scarf itches my neck. No, really, it itches so damn much!"

The novelty of 'that doggie in the window.'

An institution.

Rhodes University Clocktower.

The Cathedral of St Michael and St George boasts the tallest spire in South Africa

A cattle truck, seen on the N2 travelling through the Eastern Cape. I captured the cows' rear ends just before we overtook it, for your viewing pleasure.

Le Tour de France, brought to you in the convenient form of a single cappucino.

67 Minutes for Mandela

- the Mandela Day campaign is calling on people around the world to commit 67 minutes of their time "to make an imprint and help change the world around them" -

In honour of Nelson Mandela's 91st birthday, which was celebrated on 18 July, we set about chopping, dicing, peeling and shredding mounds of vegetables at Mandela Rhodes Place on Sunday. The effort would see scores of potatoes, tomatos, carrots, cauliflower and corn thrown into ten-litre stainless steel cooking pots and slowly brewed into a simmering soup, which would later be distributed at homeless shelters all over the Western Cape.

I gave up on the first potato, knowing it'd take me a full hour and seven minutes to peel just one, and went on to shredding thyme and rosemary sprigs at lightning speed. Clyde took over on the peeling part, managing to rip those spud-skins right off with his bare canines (see above). How's that for 67 minutes well-spent?

I Can't Let Go of the Clutter

When you clear out your bedroom, dismantling cupboards, rearranging furniture, dusting out cobwebs, vacuuming out crevices filled with layers of dusty decades and peeling off outdated wallpaper that looks like it could have doubled as a blackout curtain back in 1944, you are bound to rediscover objects you forgot you ever had.

And then the memories wash through the floodgates of your mind, overwhelming you with nostalgia, and you find yourself sifting through postcards from your penpal back in the days of Tamagotchi and Sleepless in Seattle.

After a well overdue springclean of my Ground Zero bedroom I discovered the following:

• I have far too much jewellery. People seem to prefer jewellery as a staple gift solution, and while I love having it, I rarely wear it. I guess I just like knowing that I've got some. Magpie.
• I need to read more, according to the many unread books on my shelf.
• I should do a routine sweep-and-dust at least once a fortnight to relieve myself of my hayfever ailment.
• Three old stuffed friends from childhood - a grubby trio made up of a pelican ('Pelly'), an elephant ('Nelly') and a chick ('Gina').
• A set of chess pieces, a riding hat, an election poster from 1994 that reads 'VOTE ANC,' a movie still from Lord of the Rings signed by Sir Ian McKellen, a limited edition box set of the Harry Potter books , an Anne of Green Gables doll with a balding problem and a book on practical calligraphy.