Sweaty Betty: Man, is it hot!

It's hot. (Insigtful observation, I know). It hasn't been this hot for about 22 years, and the only evidence I have of this is a picture of myself at about 18 months, clothed only in a uncomfortable-looking cloth nappy, standing on my Mum's kitchen bench next to a fan and looking very pleased with myself. Ah, to get back to the 80's where children could happily frolic on benchtops near electrical appliances without fear of reprecussion. Thankfully, my house, car and office has the mod-con of air-con and it's been crankin' today. Charlotte sensibly made a little bed right in front of the air con and slept there happily all afternoon.

Now, I know if you live elsewhere in Oz (and, for the record, Tas is part of the country too, which some mainlanders find difficult to fathom) stinking hot days of 40 degrees occur reasonably regularly in the summer. I feel sorry for people in say, Adelaide, because a) they live in Adelaide and b) from what I can tell or what weather reports tell me, summers are always stupidly hot there. Stop complaining, Taswegian! I hear you say. By the weekend it'll have cooled down to the high 20's (perfect summer weather, actually) and in a few months it'll be back to the high teens, and the mercury won't rise until at least December. Except Hobart, where it'll be 31 tomorrow and 13 the next day. In case you're interested in such things, you can, like my partner, spend the best part of hot afternoons in your boardshorts or pj shorts avidly checking and re-checking Weather Zone for an up-to the minute report of the temperature. Constantly updating everyone within earshot of what celsius we have reached will not, however, make the air any cooler. Nor will standing on your front lawn at midday WATERING IT. OH MY GOD. I can't think of a more arrogant and ignorant gesture, when the country is plagued by drought, the earth is running short on water and it hasn't rained for months than vainly attempting to keep your front lawn green. In the middle of the day, with a hose AND sprinkler. Even when your neighbours are doing it, it's not an excuse for everyone else to. These people, however, are the type that Windex their driveway. Can I put it out there, that if you see someone doing it, either switch off their water source, dob them into the council or local paper, or leave a nasty letter in their letterbox and then get the kids from down the street do a nice big skid on their driveway with their BMX's. No need to go Al Gore on them, just a simple "are you a fucking nutbag?" will do the job nicely.

On another note, today at Frock You we received some lovely winter coats. They are truly lovely (new season update coming soon, and the A/W '09 catalogue is out next week!) but seriously I know you aint gonna want to buy them yet. Fashion seasons work in mysterious ways. I tried to buy some beach towels yesterday, as ours have been in the front-loader one too many times and resemble exfoliating gloves, and after extensive searching managed to find the very last non-velour one in the entire city. It's fugly as all fug, but it'll do. I also wanted to get some plain s/s tees for Charli and another swimsuit for myself, but apparently High Summer is just when you want to be stocking up on long sleeved and knitted apparel. And before you say anything, yes I know it happens every year but it still pisses me off. Though not as much as a shiny green lawn on a hot, hot day...(and also not as much as summer "fashion" choices, seriously love a tea towel is not a dress regardless of how sweaty you are, but more on that tomorrow)!

Shopping is for Life, not just for Christmas

I'm not a big believer in New Year's Resolutions. If you make one, you invariably keep it for a week and then give up, which leads to disappointment and packets of Tim Tams. it's a bit of the olde "If at first you don't succeed, erase all evidence that you ever tried". I don't diet, I always intend to exercise but refuse to kid myself that it will actually happen, despite expensive sneakers, and after every wardrobe cleanout I intend to replace my old crap with new crap I will wear more often. This also doesn't happen but arguably that is the joy of fashion. Shopping, though, is possibly my biggest vice (in case you couldn't tell). If Becky Bloomwood was real and I could stop imagining her looking scarily similar to Isla Fisher, we'd be pretty good buddies. We think along the same lines. Revealing that, it may come as a shock to you to know that this month, I didn't shop fo a total of 9 days. Yes, you read that correctly. And this is in the midst of post-Christmas sale madness, online bargains galore and heaps of ebay listings of ungrateful wenches who doon't like their designer chrissy presents. Even when Charlotte was born it only took a week to get back to the shops. The hiatus was possibly because I'm not such a fan of summer clothes and can't find any frocks I like this season, and also can't justify yet more grey/white/black/pink tees and tanks, but it's effect was quite pleasing. (It also doesn't include things like groceries by the way). I didn't bore myself with the maths but have been putting more money in our holiday fund, which in the long run means I can shop in a different country with more to spend. Perfect.

I caved when hunting for accessories for our A/W '09 catalogue shoot last week (shot over the weekend and released at the end of the month, more snippets on this later) and couldn't go past sparkly things in Diva for $5. Then I jumped right back on board, finding Little Leona dresses for Charlotte at 40% off, a few bits'n'bobs on ebay, some cute tees from a new site I adore, hardtofind (need to spend more time browsing here, so much cute stuff!), and most importantly, my favourite purchase: Frederick the elephant from Bholu. When I found him last night on the sale rack, I got my shopping spark back. He is too adorable, and he's been sitting in a local homewares boutique for ages and I always pat him when I'm in there. Ok, that sounds weird, but I do. He will look fabulous on my bedside pouf, and the burnt orange colour goes perfectly with our retro-fugly doona. Toys are not just for kids. And perhaps shopping is not a vice (*desperately tries to justify actions*) but a hobby, an outlet, yes, even therapy. And I'd rather spend $40 on a cute toy then on a self-help book anyday.