so I had an interesting event that occurred Saturday. I live with 5 guys and there is at least 7 people in the house at all times, so I was surprised when I woke up sat morning and noone was around. I called a few mobiles and no answers so decided to go for my regular morning latte. Two coffees later and I realise to my building frustration that I dont have house keys. I have been wanting to get to the Salvatore Ferragamo museum for awhile, so take the opportunity to distract myself. 

Its closed until the 18th December.
Its an understatment to say that I was in a bad mood. I could have kicked a puppy.
I decided to go to my favorite place in Florence to chill out. It was 3 in the afternoon and Michelangelos square over looking the city would be warm enough from the days sunshine (its winter here, and freezing!)
As I was walking up the path some creep must have spotted me alone and decided to wait around the corner, pants to the ground, touching himself!for some reason I wasn't surprised, just really disgusted.I quickened my pace significantly and got to the square to find hundreds of asian tourists and not one of them spoke english. Now I had started to panic knowing that I had to take the same path to get back down to the city. I got through to one of the boys on the mobile, who came to my rescue on his moped.

It prompted me to think about all the bumps I have experienced during this round of my European adventure. 
I had my wallet stolen on the subway in Paris, My camera taken while I was uploading photos in an internet cafe in Rome. I was even physically assulted at a train station in Barbes Rocheaurt, Paris.
My life is like heart rate monitor, irregular ups and downs. For all the great things that I have created for myself, weird and unusual events tend to be not far behind. It forces me to be conciously aware of myself in the present moment, and in doing so has a releasing effect, as if time ceases to be of importance, money and success become irrelevant and understanding the relationship I have with myself is the most significant and meaningful relationship I will ever have.And that goes for you too...


I moved to Italy for love...

... what the hell was I thinking! I mean, sure things with the boy are going better than ever, but how could I be so ignorant to think that a culture that is so based on the romantic notion of love, could harbour and support a workaholic like myself!! I bet the word doesnt even exist in Italian! I should have done my research more... or attempted to learn the language. I wrongly assumed that because I moved here for love that naturally the language of love would evolve, like a budding rose or a butterfly. But it continues to evade me - as if to tell me that my skeptical ideals of love are not welcome here, and therefore its secret language of 'amour' cannot be mine to express.
I can only say for those that I have come across - but the modern Italians appear to lack work ethic. Paired with the recent economic downturn, Florence businesses (with the friendly exception of pubs and bars) in winter are barely alive. Shop after shop are either closed or vacant, so one would assume that taking over a lease would be a piece of cake....
Its not like I dont have solid references, relevant visas or sound financials, Im not even creepy looking, but these agents and owners are giving me a hard time. What happened to a fair go, mate?
So its back to bed than. drawing paper, vogue, harpers bazaar, scissors, fabric, pens, pencil shavings, laptop and another sleepless night doing what I love



I moved to Italy for love...

... and missed this years Australian Rosemount Fashion Week. I couldnt be there, but here are my favorites from the line up:
Romance Was Born 'Renaissance Dinosaur' show
Romance Was Born
Camilla and Marc displayed some gorgeous designs but the head wear really stood out for me. Here a model wears a floating feathers headpiece created by milner, Johnathan Howard. The feathers are hand-dyed turkey feathers and a similar piece can be ordered by contacting Johnathan via
Kirrily Johnston 'Apocolypto' collection
Kirrily Johnston 'Apocolypto' collection. I love the double wrap belt. Florence is renowned for their amazing belt work. I had a couple made specially for me that triple wrap around my waist
Dion Lee. This is a gorgeous photo with the Sydney Harbour bridge reflected in the glass

Alice McCall designed the belts she used for her collection.

This year was no exception to the caliber, quality and design that is showcased year after year at the annual Australian Fashion Week. My twin sister and I have been fortunate enough to work at this event in the past, helping designers with the pre runway prep and as a result were photographed for Harpers Bazaar magazine.
Im proud to be part of the industry that is Australian Fashion.


I moved to Italy for love...

...the pesto pasta at Luca's restaurant in Rome, I confess, was love. It was served piping hot with the Parmesan and olive oil oozing, a taste that made me weep. All the loneliness I had felt in the few hours before disappeared. This was the reawakening of a love affair I had started with Italian food over 4 years ago here in Rome. 

Food and I have always shared a mutual love. Born into the Hindu Hare Krsna Religion just about guaranteed that at the very least we would be well fed with a variety westernised Indian prasadam (a word meaning "spiritual food" - " By the tongue you can chant Hare Krsna, and by the tongue you can taste Krsna prasadam, spiritual food") . It also meant that we were vegetarian, a lifestyle choice I have since, and always will maintain.

How good is payday? That little nudge of joy I feel in the back of my stomach when that wonderful fortnight rolls around started when I was a child. Payday meant food! The food that as a child was better than a birthday; chocolate milk, chips, rice bubbles, ice cream, frozen chips - basically the foods that were shelved at eye level in the supermarket ended up on our kitchen table every second Thursday. I think that Thursday Payday may have been my Mums least favorite day. She despised shopping centers and supermarkets, almost as much as she disliked teenagers. After her long night shift, she would walk into the supermarket with a trolley and walk down each aisle pushing products off the shelf into the basket. After being unloaded from the car and dumped on the kitchen table, "first in best dressed"  took its meaning. At best the goodies lasted until Sunday. Not because there wasnt enough, but my brothers had developed tendancies like bears in the winter hibernation season. They could stock up easily until 2 more Thursday rolled around. I guess I can thank them for my slim physique.
My Mums idea of cooking, gotta love her, was filling a pot with cold water and pasta shells and boiling until a block of pasta formed, ready to be sliced and served with split peas or the like. And so our step father became the cook. He wasn't any better, but he didn't actually have a job, so it was the least he could do. What a fortunate country Australia is where you can make a career receiving dole checks! 
Thank god for Katy, my eldest sister. She ensured we kept a fine pallet for good food and passed on her knowledge of Indian cooking.
As a result my cooking is really the only thing I am truly "cocky" about. Ive not yet met someone that hasn't enjoyed my culinary skills...


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