January

 

 I took these pictures much earlier in the year, planning to post them with a lot of thoughts on new years and how we respond to them, but due to the hectic nature of my new year, I haven't had the time, so I'll just leave you with these photos, as I still am very happy with them by themselves. My year is indefinitely going to be a huge one; filled with lots of plans, lots of the unknown (both an equal parts exciting and daunting), a truckload of stress and upset and change and hard work, but hopefully lots of happiness and rewarding days as well, and hopefully the time to keep my blog updated with all that's going on, and the creative endeavours that I hope to achieve. I hope you all have a great 2016. Happy (sort-of-still) New Year! x

Photos are all self portraits taken with the self timer on my Nikon L120 in front of my bathroom shower curtain.

In Appreciation of Blogging

August 2011

November 2011

December 2011

February 2012, my sister Ireland (left) and me playing Alice and The White Rabbit (and dancing, of course).

February 2012. Large fluffy tophats are important.

April 2012. Gerrie the pony has grass in his mouth, not a cigarette, just so you know...

(Dress is silk, from a charity shop. Frankie the chicken happened to be walking by).

July 2012

August 2012

December 2012

January 2013

February 2013. (Wearing some awkwardly sitting 40's tap pants).

April 2013

June 2013

This morning, I was properly appreciating a Saturday – by lazing around in bed. I then did something that I usually avoid, given the usual messy state of my room: I looked around. Clothes and books strewn everywhere; countless trinket boxes; a large amount of vintage leather bags hanging from my door (weighing down on the doorknob so much that my door doesn't actually close properly); and, on my wall, some cork boards. What I pinned to them probably hasn't changed in about four or more years; there are pictures of tigers, a pegasus, my dad as a kid with a very fat goat, way too many cheesy quotes, drawings of the skeleton from when I was ten and attempted to remember the names of every single bone in the human body, and, mysteriously, a folded up A4 piece of crisp, faded yellow paper. I had no idea what it was. It was clear I hadn't thought about that piece of paper in years. I experienced a feeling that I'd felt the day before when I looked through my blog for the first time in a long time. It was a feeling of fascination with a past me that I had forgotten about. If you’re wondering, the contents of the page were rather anticlimactic and made me question the state of my sanity the time that I pinned the paper up. I opened it, imagining all sorts of curious things, and found, in the middle of the page, written in blue pen by my then-messy handwriting, the word ‘something’. I have an inkling that maybe my younger self posted that there just to confuse my future (aka current) self. It certainly worked. 

But that’s not really the relevant bit here (and I've already rambled on enough about the encounter). It was that wonderful feeling of rediscovering who I was at another time. It got me thinking about blogging. And how great I've always thought it was that we can document parts of ourselves and our lives and our thoughts, saved for us to look back on later. A blog is different to Facebook in many ways, as it (or at least for me) is a place for more extended and deeper thoughts than where you got breakfast one Sunday in March 2012. I always loved the idea of keeping an actual journal (preferably a beautiful leather bound one that I wrote in with fancy handwriting), but never managed it. But for a while, I was really good at keeping a blog. I started blogging at twelve, and now, at sixteen, looking back is so amazing. I really enjoyed being able to have a place where I could see how I evolved in my thoughts and ways in a time period (my teenage years) where so much changes. It was better than photo albums compiled by my parents or the stories they tell me about how I used to be, because it was documentation of who I was, controlled solely by me - and the way I chose to document myself was yet another reflection of who I was.

Thinking about this made me sad that the ubiquity of my blog posts have simmered down to me having only posted once this year. I feel like it’s such an important thing to document how you felt at one point, because so often we forget. I've met many adults who remember being young, but not how it felt. And I'm scared of forgetting all these things, because I know how easy it is.

I hope that I manage to continue blogging. There are so many wonderful aspects of it, the retrospective part being just one of them. It’s so satisfying to type out my current thoughts; get feedback and other opinions in the comments; read the blogs of others; the whole process of taking pictures and thinking about how I will present myself, both in photos (my photography and photos of me) and in writing, and thinking about what to write and how to start and how to end, and finally pressing 'publish'; reviewing; wondering what I’ll post next.

The photoshoots are the best though. I love photography. I think one day I'd like to be a photographer. When I started my blog, it was from my sister Ireland’s encouragement. She already had a blog, and she’d asked me to help her take photos for it (at the time I wasn't even that interested in photography). We started with some badly lit pictures of her on our veranda in some impossibly high heels, then moved on to her styling me as well as herself, and us taking pictures of each other, then, looking through our mum’s old clothes and the hoards of vintage she had been collecting since before we were born. Picture taking became more frequent and more daring. Poses were made in the garden, up trees, in the paddocks, with cows, with horses, with chickens. She helped me start my blog, even named it for me, and directed me to all the blogs she followed and took inspiration from. We both developed our own styles, but for the photoshoots, we always teamed up and had a lot of fun. We were always so different, even though we’d wished we were twins, so it was a great way for us both to connect before the time we matured enough to accept and celebrate our differences.
I would definitely say that blogging has played a huge part in shaping who I am today. It made me begin to use the internet for more intellectual reasons, and then find some excellent websites, blogs and articles that opened my mind even further to things like politics, the media, equality, sustainability, art, and much more – all things that my parents had discussed with me, but that I needed to discover on my own for my opinions to develop naturally; so I could truly discover how I really thought, by being free to explore all the information and opinions out there and to see what I felt was important and what I agreed and disagreed with. Hell, from simply their twelve year-old starting a blog, my parents' opinions have evolved thanks to endless conversations about all the stuff that I had read. So, while I can’t be sure if anyone reading this very self involved post is actually enjoying it (sorry I went on a bit), I still wanted to post this, as sort of a homage to my blog (and my sister), for making me significantly more well-adjusted. 

Summer Garden

 Photos of me taken by my mum mid-December last year in our garden. My silk dress is Victoria's Secret that I got for $4 from a charity shop and dyed (it was originally a light blue). Sorry it's a bit crinkly, but ironing is weird...

Also, Happy Sort-of-New Year!

Scary Stuff

Halloween - Hallowe'en, All Hallow's Eve, AllHalloween, All Saints' Eve: a yearly celebration marked by orange pumpkins, jiggling plastic skeletons, dress-ups, parties, sugar, witch's hats and an overuse of the word 'spooky'. It's the time when Halloween specials come up on television and cringe-worthy marketing techniques resurface; shaken out and dusted off once again to sell, sell, sell - as cheesy and predictable as the last 152 times.

For me, October 31st is a day of eye-rolls and mutterings of "Wow, haven't heard that one before" (in response to the aforementioned cringe-worthy marketing techniques) - and this year, it's also the day that the carton of milk in our fridge passes its use-by-date - that's about it. While it's not something that I generally get involved in, I still do enjoy seeing how others celebrate and get creative with it: my social media feeds filled with inventive make-up ideas, DIY decorations and some excellent costumes.

However, I do have some issues with Halloween. My problems with it, much like my problems with Christmas, Easter and the like, are the really scary things about the occasion - not the appearance of vampires, devils, witches, ghouls and ghosts, but the extra harm done to the planet and the many Halloween costumes that objectify women.

The shouts of "Buy me, buy me!" from cheap, plastic crap - no doubt made by slaves in China - are distinctly louder in the time leading up to occasions like these. Individual plastic packaging for each bullet-sized lolly, toxic dyes from making costumes washing into rivers, costumes and decorations made from environmentally unfriendly materials, and excessive amounts of waste, etc - all equate to an environmental nightmare.
But you don't have to partake in any of that: costumes can be handmade, borrowed from a friend, rented, created with clothes from the back of your wardrobe, ethically made, second hand, or at least be reworn.

And then there's the sexism. Out of all festivities, I think that Halloween probably holds the shiny gold trophy for costumes that sexualise women. They go as far as a sexy snowman from a children's Disney movie - hot, right? The objectification of women in Halloween costumes is especially noticeable when seen in contrast to the same costumes, but for men. Where a costume for men might be marketed as funny, scary, or evil, the version for women is more likely to be labelled 'sexy' or 'naughty'.

On the other end of the teeterboard, comes the slut-shaming. When we call out stuff like this, it's important to not respond with more sexism and shame girls who wear sexy outfits. The problem is more that these costumes are pretty much all of what's on offer, and that that participates in giving society the screwed up idea that the most important thing about women is how they look to men - which is so far from the truth.

As much as I detest the fact that almost all the costumes for women that you'll find in your average cheap store or shopping centre are sexually objectifying, I'm not going to judge anyone who wears them. If you like it and you want to wear it, then wear it - it's completely your choice. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look sexy.

Although, if you are looking for some women's Halloween costumes that are about more than looking sexy, A Mighty Girl has some brilliant ideas for girls and women of all ages here.

So, with that being said, I hope everyone enjoys their day, whether you celebrate the holiday or not. The dress and heels seen above and below were taken off hours ago, so I think for Halloween I'm just going to go as the (very tongue-in-cheek) girl who forgot to shave her armpits, because nothing scares people like female body hair, right?

My familiar, Colin. This baby swallow fell out of its nest a week ago, rather luckily falling into a box full of fabric. We put it back, but there were no other siblings (when there was the day before) and its parents never came back for it. I'm actually starting to become a bit of a protective mummy bird. 

Photos courtesy of my mum

The vintage handmade dress was bought at a charity shop, and so were the heels - which I towered in, as they put me over six feet tall! To prove that you can source your entire Halloween costume ethically, I'd also like to note that the under shorts were upcycled from a pair of holey tights, the crop top underneath is a hand-me-down from my sister, and my knickers are from ethical UK company Who Made Your Pants? - they even go with my outfit, as they're green!