In Her Shoes

Even before Ines decreed that loafers work on everyone, I was looking for the perfect pair. Honest. But  Church's were too big/wrong cut; Tod's too expensive; local versions cheap and shoddy looking. I have been biding my time.

And then, just the other day, I saw someone in the school playground wearing red loafers. Did I rush up and ask where she got them? No. Because (and how I hate to say this) They Looked Frumpy. It is possible that my opinion was coloured by the fact that I don't much like this particular person, but I don't think so. It's true she was wearing them with pants at an odd length (not a capri, not an ankle length ... a sort of 'I'm not sure how long I am supposed to be' length). And they were possibly a slightly clunky style of loafer. But still.

Was my Loafer Crush all wrong? I have remarkably stick-like ankles, so will they make me look like Olive Oyl or her middle-aged mother? Is the depressing truth that only Ines, Alexa and their ilk look good in loafers? And let's face it, after all, they look good in anything. (Although Alexa really should Do Something About Her Hair.)

Sigh.

1000 Acres

Our second country weekend in a row was wonderful, despite a five-hour drive in torrential rain on the way up. Culinary highlights included tarragon roast chicken and walnut tart with brandy prunes, plus I learnt to make pot-sticker dumplings. And of course we perused the 1000 100 acres ...

Back in the big bad city, we're into the second week of school holidays ... Yesterday, feeling a bit blah, I decided to take the offspring into town for some retail therapy. Kid 1 needed clothes for winter, and trying to shop with him on weekends is impossible, so it seemed like a good idea to seize the day.

I didn't realise that yesterday was the opening of the first Australian Zara store.
The queues were insane. We didn't bother joining them. Successful teen boy shopping did take place, despite some bickering between self and teen at the outset. Kid 1 bears more than a passing resemblance to that Justin Bieber person, so whenever I go anywhere with him in public, I'm very amused by the glances/stares/whispers from teenage girls. I'm not sure he's quite so amused.Then again, he won't change his Bieber hair, so perhaps he likes the attention.

And I bought a pair of red jeans. Kid 2 was not impressed. 'Why do you want to wear eccentric-coloured jeans?' she asked me disapprovingly. This is the same kid who has been prancing around for the last day in a loud, multi-coloured striped top, denim skirt, red tights and pink shoes with silver laces. I guess she prefers me beige ... Kid 1, on the other hand, egged me on, including telling me which shoes to wear with the offending red jeans.

Still on the fascinating topic of shoes, I ordered a pair of loafers from the Outnet. They were gorgeous. But half a size too big, and by the time I went online to return/exchange, they were completely sold out. Yesterday I tried on a pair of Tod's loafers and they were 100% perfect. Sadly, also 100% out of my shoe budget. I will stalk them.

Surviving Christmas

How much do I love these boots? So much that I am SAVING UP for them (they're not insanely expensive, but they're not cheap). Saving up is a strange concept these days. I didn't have a credit card until my late 20s (funny thing about finishing uni in a recession - no full-time jobs to be had, and back in those days they were much stricter about giving out cards). So before that it really was a matter of saving up for things ... And of course I won't actually be able to wear these boots for another six months because it is Too Darn Hot. So waiting is good.

I told Spouse it can buy me this:

this:

or this:

for Christmas. It politely declined. Apparently it wanted to get me an Hermes cuff, but they don't have the exact one I want in stock (gold with orange enamel). It's the thought that counts. AND I am getting tix to see Madama Butterfly in February, which I'm very excited about.

Christmas is in 10 days. We are hosting 22 people (14 adults, 8 children). Our house is very small, so all festivities will have to take place in the garden (also small, but bigger than any of our rooms). As we've been having insanely bad weather - rain, floods, pestilence - we've taken the cautious step of getting a pop-up marquee. We popped it up for the first time on the weekend and it takes up most of the backyard.

Paving is underway so that there is somewhere to put the buffet table.
Baking has begun. Three batches of shortbread have been despatched. 60 chocolate truffles have been rolled in cocoa. Plans have been made for the building of a gingerbread house, which will probably collapse in the dire humidity. I made caramels (80 of them) for Kid 2's schoolfriends: they looked like this when we'd wrapped them.

I want to live somewhere where I could have eggnog and mulled cider and fondue and enjoy heating up the kitchen with baking. Like New York?

Again, there is controversy around the tree. I begged to be allowed an artificial one - and my wish was granted, but Spouse doesn't like it.

So we got a small living tree as well. Before you know it, I'll be like Martha Stewart and have several Christmas trees in every room of my house ...

In other news, Kid 2 won the school's annual Creativity Award and was so happy it was almost levitating. I managed to miss the ceremony - after eight years of sitting through these terminally boring 'Presentation Days', where every single child in the school gets an award for breathing and there are about six awards with any significance, I bailed on this one. Sod's law, right?

Saturday Night Fever

Crazy busy weekend, including such highlights as doing a stint on the school cake stall (the school is also a polling booth, and we just happened to have a federal election yesterday), rigging Holden's new Laser for the first time, and eating more macaroons than is seemly.

Last night I didn't cook anything adventurous - we had lamb koftas (barbecued by Spouse) with pita bread, tabbouleh, hummous and minted yoghurt. Then we ate way too many sweet things, as we were given half a dozen boxes of baked goods by a friend who hadn't sold them at the markets ...

We had an odd selection of guests - my brother, an old friend of mine, our ex-neighbour from the old house and a sort of waif-and-stray-friend-and-her-child. I can never bear the thought that someone is spending Saturday night without company and food, so I'm a little prone to inviting anyone and everyone to join us. It usually works out.

On a sartorial note, Spouse was persuaded to buy a pair of Campers this afternoon. He always feels guilty about spending money on clothes or shoes, so I reminded him that his last pair of Campers have lasted 10 years and still look good. I think these ones will be great for summer.

Now it's Sunday evening, and I'd really rather that we could stretch the weekend by another day - it's been fun but it seems to have gone by very quickly. I don't want it to be Monday so soon!

The Winter of Our Discontent

I find that several things get me through a cold, wet winter.

1. Drinking ridiculous amounts of tea.
2. Cooking and eating large, hearty meals like pork with cider and dumplings, or coq au vin, or sauerkraut with plenty of sausage ...
3. Wearing sunshine on my feet.


4. Imagining, and occasionally making purchases towards, a summer wardrobe.

It is a well-documented fact that I hate dressing in summer, as I have nasty pale freckly skin that I do not especially like to bare. I also have hideous legs. And I'm bad at floaty garments, as I am not tall. This makes an Australian summer quite challenging.

This year, I am going to do better. I will:

1. Try to wear dresses. I have my eye on a sort of 'utility chic' khaki coloured silk number. Wow, I made that sound awful, didn't I?
2. Wear white jeans or even try to find a skirt.
3. Wear shirts that don't cling. I'm slowly building a collection of silk chiffon blouses.
4. Wear a jumpsuit. No, really, I had to. It's silk/linen and really quite nice on, especially without the horrid pink scarf in the Net-a-Porter pic (only horrid because it is mostly definitely not a good colour on me).

Happy Feet

Back to the topic of happiness, it seems even world leaders have been thinking about it. Apparently Sarkozy has been talking about a happiness index instead of GDP - an interesting topic briefly covered here (the comments are also worth reading).

Closer to home, we sent a bit of birthday happiness to school with Phoebe this morning. We're not supposed to send in whole cakes and I think I will scream if I see another cupcake, let alone have to make and decorate 33 of them ... I really don't understand the whole Cupcake Thing.

Oops, I went off on a cupcake rant. It's been a long week.

Back to the title of this post - since it's Happy Feet, I have decided that what would make my feet happy is some new shoes for summer. For some reason I'm very taken with silly colours right now. So I've been checking out these (I have a silk top in the same colour)


and these (and I HATE yellow)


or the ever-useful silver.


I have even been considering the humble espadrille


(probably NOT in pink), but maybe I'm getting carried away with the warmer weather and straying into frump territory?