Masonette

Just thought I'd post these pics from a recent shoot with designer Jo Mason (absolute sweetheart) from Masonette, Canix Jewellery and stylist Bianca Roccisano, who is awesome to work with since she talks almost as much as me. I love these designs and the theme of the shoot. The photos will appear in the next issue of Fashion Journal and an upcoming issue of Cosmopolitan magazine. The photographer was 18 year old Jacinta Rosewarne who has only got her first camera four months ago. Watch her. She is amazing. The other model is Laura Jane, such a stunning face!

It's friday, I'm in love

What the shit? So I found this song originally on itunes and thought maybe it was a joke but it's legit. I honestly think it's the worst song of all time but with a cringe worthy video to match. I particularly like how these 13 year olds are driving a car and heading to a party where all their mates cars are parked. Since when did America lower the legal driving age from 16 to 13? Her makeup also makes her look like a baby prostitute. Best lyrics in the song are clearly: "Yesterday was Thursday, today is Friday, we're so excited ... we gonna have a ball today, tomorrow is Saturday and Sunday comes afterwards. I don't want this weekend to end." Also, who is the black flo rida/ Usher wanna be that randomly starts rapping in the middle of the song? 10 points for street cred Rebecca! Another highlight of the song is when she's choosing whether to sit in the front seat or the back seat- ooh such choices! How can a girl choose?!
It's so dandy when the number 1 topic on Twitter is Rebecca Black over the Japan disasters. Thanks to Ark Music Factory there are multiple songs by children with delusional parents just like this one to keep you entertained.

Indie lord

Future 2011...shit day. Admittedly I just wanted to go to see Ke$ha because I think she needs a bath and I heard she blows glitter from her vagina BUT I didn’t think the experience of this music festival could be that bad. I’m not really that big a music festival fan, due to the fact that I’m not indie enough and I’m pretty much the only one not on drugs yet I highly enjoyed Good Vibes last year. I only went so I could see the Killers and it was well worth it because they were amazing. Literally one of the best moments of my entire LIFE was being on my friend’s shoulders during “All these things that I’ve done”. I was expecting something similar at Future music festival this year but I was so wrong.

The day started with amazing weather and a delightful lemon lime bitters and vodka slurpee. I had been offered a job working behind the scenes at the festival by my friend Olivia but since I’d already bought my $140 ticket, I decided to pass on that. I travelled into Flemington with Olivia and my other friends Sage and Alice as they prepared themselves to work in funky burlesque outfits all day. The train ride in itself was eventful considering an intoxicated young male vomited just behind us. It looked like he swallowed a sausage whole, the chunks were enormous. Sage described them as being similar in texture to apple pie. We also watched out the window as the clouds became more and more ominous.

Just as we pulled into Flemington Racecourse station, the heavens opened and sent everyone running. Some geniuses had those funky plastic ponchos but I literally had nothing to protect me. I tried to steal some guys hat by batting my eyelashes and smiling sweetly but it turned out to be his friend’s so that was an immediate fail. Problem number two was that I had my friend Brianna’s ticket and we were supposed to be hanging out that day plus we had no phone reception! We somehow spoke to each other for a few small conversations where neither of us understood each other but I managed to catch onto the fact that she was on the other side of the festival. Joy. Sheer joy.

After waiting in a line for a good 45 minutes with these randoms who decided to drunkenly befriend me, I got in and needed to pee. The lines for these feral public toilets were 15 minutes long so I decided to get everyone excited to pee. We had chants going to encourage people to “pee hard or pee home”. High fives were also exchanged as people exited the cubicles. Excellent morale. After I had peed, shit got real. I had to find Brianna.

Her texts went like this:
“like at the end of the main stage on the footpath”
“Emily I haven’t moved where r u??? I’m looking at the main stage but far back in the centre, about 50m up from a ride”

“The “no booze no bags” sign is 50m in front of me”

Needless to say, it was pretty difficult to locate her plus I was a little distraught because it was midway through Ke$ha!!! After searching for a good 15 minutes, Brianna and I are united with her screaming at the top of her lungs. We then made a futile attempt to get to the front. We got about ten metres into the crowd and gave up. I could see Ke$ha’s squat thrusts and blue lipstick from 100m away but no glitter vagina. Depressing. After this, we needed sustenance.

The question was: food or alcohol? We had to wait in a half hour que for each of them. We decided upon food. Food was amazing, being drenched...not so amazing. I was so not drunk enough for that shit.

After wandering around for about an hour, asking ourselves where all these derros came from, we decided it would be safe to watch “The Presets” because we figured we’d know a few songs. Wrong. We knew about two. Epic fail. It was also while watching The Presets that a bottle of wee was thrown in our direction. I replay the event in slow motion as boys began to run out of the way while another hurled a clear bottle containing a yellow liquid into the crowd. Brianna and I ducked out of the way just in time to see the girl next to us get smacked in the face by a large splash of pee. If there was ever a time for anti-bacterial gel, it was at that moment. Either way, that ended it for us. It was time to go so we walked our sorry dripping arses back home.

I’m starting to think maybe I’m a massive loser.

Ranga Racism

Roses are red, so is your head, I wish you were dead.


I’m a ranga. A red head, a ginger, carrot top, ginga ninja, fire crotch, pumpkin pubes...ok too far blue car. But yes, as of a week ago, I have joined the small minority of the population that has red hair. For a colouring competition, my good friend Shakira from Zucci hair salon dyed my hair red and cut me a fringe. Before this, I had virgin hair and my baby Jesus liked it. As you can imagine, I was absolutely pooing myself leading up to dying it, envisioning myself looking like orphan Annie. Once it was done though, I didn’t hate it, I kind of liked it. Could this be possible? I have been asked before if my hair was naturally red and if I had dyed it brown because I have freckles. Also, my brother has a ranga face. “What does that mean?” I hear you ask? It means people when they first meet him don’t notice that he has blonde hair but remember him and a ranga due to his slightly red and freckly face.

I’ve decided red heads are practically a race of their own. Everyone is super racist towards red heads! I got my first taunt when walking to the bus stop on the way to uni. Now, on previous days, a car full of builders always drives past at the same time and they all yell out something obscene. But this Monday was different. As I innocently walked down the street, probably listening to Taylor Swift, I looked up when I heard the word “RANGA!!!!” being screamed. It was the car full of builders shouting abuse at me! Only 3 days before they were singing a different tune but there it was, ranga racism. Whatever, if it means I could play Ginny in a Harry Potter film and marry Harry then it is worth it.

I told my beautiful ginger friend Jess about this incident and she said “do you see what I have to deal with??”. It’s tough having red hair! For some reason I have the idea in my head that there’s a high number of suicides from people with red hair and I can see why. Only 1-2% of the population has red hair, isn’t that insane?? I just found this on Wikipedia: “Cultural reactions have varied from ridicule to admiration; many common stereotypes exist regarding redheads and they are often portrayed as fiery-tempered.” Fiery tempered ey? I have already been described as that by someone who claims it’s just because I have red hair now. As I am Scottish, maybe I should have red hair as Scotland has the highest population of carrot tops. My mum continued the discrimination last night as she turned to me in the car saying “What are you going to do about your hair? I don’t love it.” Thanks mims.

I swear to God, as I write this blog, a creepy ginger baby is giving me the evil eye at work. I just took a sneaky photo of it. Win.

 

As a ginga ninja, I come in peace