It is a wonder to discover that in a world so beguiled by self-image, we can still discern what it is to be truly beautiful. A word layered with endlessly more meaning than the likes of ‘hot’ and ‘sexy’, to relate it to self is far from media-inspired. Belief in
Last Thursday at 10.30am, I completed my first year at university. While it carried with it a sense of relief, The End docked with much less triumph than I imagined it would. It felt indefinite, unsure if this was the destination, if we’d even boarded the right ship. For weeks now,
I have come, perhaps with the age of false indestructibility, to fear little. In fact – and I don’t mean to begin on such a bleak note – I barely fear death. Sure, to fathom the pain scares me. The idea that I will not complete all I hope to
1. Melie’s Kitchen I remember when I was five and ‘cake time’ was a regularity, even an expectation of birthday parties. A fan or not, we all anticipated the moment for what it entailed. This, of course, was a multitude of things. In addition to a birthday wish, granted was permission
I have this dream. Up against Dr King’s, I’ll admit, it’s a pretty petty one. It’d make sense as an opening speech; the sort that can’t be heard because people are still bustling about, waiting for the person they came to see. The likelihood is they can’t even physically see
On Thursday last week, I stood outside the Knuefermann store at 9am. I lifted my glasses at the window, peering with a quiet admiration. I was Holly Golightly outside Tiffany’s in New York, 1943. In the background, Moon River was playing, and I could almost make out the very water
Day 4 of NZFW, and I’m beginning to understand the limitation that is tiredness. Much alike to navigating the kitchen, it’s something I should have learned a long time ago. Being stubborn, I chose instead to let my parents argue with the bags under my eyes for years. My 7
Delegate passes and DSLRs aside, Fashion Week is not as glamorous as it seems. Each year, I set out with a series of expectations, and leave having satisfied few of them. Fortunately, I’ve always been more stimulated by spontaneity. If things only ever amounted to the level of our expectations,
NZFW attracts a diverse range of clientele: there are the media crew (those who represent various magazines, online websites or their own blogs), the somebodies (ranging from dated TV presenters to successful photographers), the well-acquainted (those who have attended five times on the back of their friendship with a well-established designer),
Day two officially marks the first full day of Fashion Week. It’s the very beginning of what will be (beautiful) mayhem for the next several days. Tuesday consisted of five shows, two shoots, visits to and from the media centre to edit, write and relay. There was a lunch at
