Home sweet home

Beret - vintage, thrifted
Blouse - vintage, thrifted
Waistcoat - little boy's, thrifted
Trousers - vintage, thrifted
Suede oxfords - vintage Selby, thrifted

It is so nice to be home! I am catching up on all the things that were neglected while I was so busy (laundry is high on that list) and working on the book. In front of the heater, naturally. Mink is pleased to have me back too, I think, although he is pretty inscrutable.

Happy Memorial Day to everyone in the States! Enjoy your day at home. I'm certainly enjoying mine.

Warm! Cosy! Fluffy!

Hooray! I am home, installed in front of the heater with a cup of tea, and well-insulated from the grim weather outside. And I can stay that way for the foreseeable future, as I have finished my stint at the publishing company and can work from home full-time once more, focusing on revising the new book (and working with the copy-editor on The Cry of the Go-away Bird - that's on the horizon this June). I'm going out for a Thai meal this evening in my cosy local restaurant (they don't even ask me what I want to order any more, because I have the same thing every time) with a couple of the other editors from the publishing company, which is the perfect way to spend a cold evening. Green curry and a nice glass of white wine - yum! I'm rugged up in preparation - this fluffy white sweater is the softest thing ever. Even softer than Mink. And there's something lovely about wearing white in winter, isn't there? I'm not quite sure what it is.

Those of you who are in Kiwi-land - stay warm. Those of you who are elsewhere - erm ... have a good day? And everybody - stay tuned for an awesome giveaway coming tomorrow! I'm really excited about this one.

Classic

This has nothing to do with anything, but I thought it was hilarious. We went out to brunch this morning with LOML's brother and sister-in-law and our little nephew. Now, I think my nephew is pretty much the coolest thing in the entire world, and I love him very much and enjoy playing with him, but this expression (captured on camera this morning) is indicative of how my face looks whenever I come into contact with babies.



"Please don't let me drop him! Please don't let me drop him! Please let him not start crying."

"Smile for the camera, Andrea."

A frozen, horrified rictus appears on Andrea's face.

And that is why I am sticking to cats for the time being.

Ouch

So I'm home today, looking rather like Quasimodo, with one side of my face swollen and bruised. Turns out that the bottom wisdom tooth is indeed a different beast from the top one - it had to be sawn into four bits before it would come out. I'm suffering a bit today. Yesterday I wanted to tear my jaw off and run away to join the circus. Today I am slightly better (although would still like to join the circus - possibly as a bearded lady, if it will hide my swollen jaw).

Anyway.

As you know, I have been working at the publishing company for the last few weeks. It has been a crazily busy time, as we had about five different publications to put out in that time, but it has been fun too. I really enjoy working with the graphic designers on layout and image selection - it's not something I get to do with my own books, as all the design stuff is out of my hands. I love working with the elements on a page, making something alive and moving from something static, and choosing the perfect image that will make the article pop. The whole process also gave me an idea (and watching The September Issue yesterday helped too!). In putting together a print publication, you create a scrapbook that details what appears on each page - the ads, the articles, the image spaces and so on. I have been revising Current Book again, and needed a new way of looking at material that has become far too familiar to me - too familiar in that it's hard to maintain a detached perspective on it. So I've started to create a scrapbook. I printed out the whole thing, and I have been cutting and pasting sections into the scrapbook in the order in which I'd like them to appear (I'm making some quite substantial structural changes again!) and writing new scenes on sheets of paper that I'm inserting into the book as well. It has made a nice change from staring at a screen, and feels much more physical and real than typing. Theoretically, when I've finished the scrapbook, I'll be able to adjust the file to reflect the print book (I've recorded the page number of each snippet in the book as I've gone along, so that I remember where to find it). So this is what I'm doing at the moment. That, and rinsing my mouth out with salt and holding a packet of frozen peas against my jaw.

Mustard berets make a rainy day bright

I feel strange. Our move has always been something on the horizon - within sight, but comfortingly removed at the same time. Now it seems to be hurtling towards us with all the subtlety of an earth-destroying meteorite. Not that I'm comparing the move to a meteorite, really - I'm excited about it, but it is inevitably scary at the same time. LOML will be in Austin in two weeks or so. Two weeks! That's very soon. I am going to be here for a bit longer, but I'll be going over for a couple of weeks in June before coming back here for all of July. And then we move officially in the first week of August, Mink and furniture and books and clothes and cups and plates and all. There is so much to organise before then - getting my full driver's licence, for one thing (I've been lazy about it - I have been driving on my restricted licence for years, meaning I can't drive in the middle of the night or carry passengers who don't have licences). I am trying to surf the waves of craziness without letting them dump me into a metaphorical sandbar, but it is quite difficult. I feel increasingly distanced from my friends and family here, and the blogosphere too, because I'm a bit over-absorbed in my own thoughts and worries - I need to take some time to reconnect with everyone, rather than just making endless to-do lists and chasing my tail. Anyway. I will leave you with a story:

I went out to breakfast this morning with some friends. Shortly afterwards, as I was walking along the city streets in my bright yellow winter coat, a woman came up to me.
"I love your coat!"
"Thank you!" That coat gets a lot of comments - probably because it is extremely bright and hard to miss.
So far, a nice, amiable exchange. Then the woman comes right up to me and starts feeling the sheepskin collar and searching for the label at the back of the coat, as if I am a mannequin in a shop window. I was so taken aback that the words in my head came out of my mouth without the usual 'Does this sound mad? Yes. Sounding mad scares people. Don't say it,' filter that my words usually pass through.
"And now you're touching me," I said. "Why are you touching me?"
"Is this coat really modern or really old?" she said.
"Really old."
She would not stop touching my coat. She was eyeing the hem. I had visions of her bending down and examining it.
"It's not for sale," I said. Actually I didn't. I wish I had. Instead I gave her a weird, fixed smile and backed away. It was all a bit odd.

In which I use the word 'crazy' a lot

Hello! I am still alive. Look, photographic evidence. Right after the op, too (and shortly before the fainting fit) - chipmunk face!



(Hi, Christina!)

It has been a crazy week. Crazy, crazy, crazy, and the wisdom tooth didn't help (am having the last one out on Tuesday - this one's a doozy, impacted and everything. Stay tuned for chipmunk face!). I kept the tooth after the operation - it's in a little box in my handbag. I'm not intentionally carrying it everywhere - it just worked out that way because I keep forgetting to take it out. Every time I reach in for my purse I come out with a tooth in a little plastic box. Still, it has proved a great conversation piece with acquaintances and strangers alike. I considered posting some photos of it, but decided to be considerate and spare you all the sight of my gnarly tooth with its supernaturally huge roots that used to be in my jaw.

This weekend, in order to recover from my crazy (CRAZY) week, I am taking some time out to catch up on Life. Namely, to reassess where I am with both my books; to catch up with family; to clean and file and do taxes and accomplish all those other things that make life seem more orderly and sane. I will also be blogging - I've had a wonderful streak of thrifting luck this week, and I've missed you all. I want to stop thinking about the big picture and dealing with big things, and enjoy the small things that I love so much. Like my vintage apron collection, for instance. Cue gratuitous pictures of my beloved aprons.





Have a wonderful Friday, everyone! Thanks for always bearing with me when things get busy. Before I go, I'd like to quote my friend Ally's latest hilarious blog post:

"The non-internet equivalent of blogging is pretty much shouting at a whole lot of people at once and none of them are allowed to interrupt. And they are allowed to leave ... but some of them follow you. Around. Wherever you go. Waiting for you to turn around and shout at them again. Blogging just got really weird for me right then. But it would be pretty awesome if you could get all your followers in one place at one time, and they just ... followed you.

And I guess the non-internet equivalent of Twitter is running into a room and shouting, "I just saw a car with the numberplate DUM455!!!" and then running out again. And then running back in five minutes later to tell everyone about your sore toe. And then running back again five minutes later to express your thoughts on last night's episode of American Idol."

A quick note

Hi everyone!

I might be away for a couple of days longer - I'm back at the publishing house at the moment, and we have three publications going to print this week. And I had a wisdom tooth out yesterday, and feel a bit miserable (also had the interesting experience of fainting - something I've never done before. It's all fodder for the autobiography). Excuses, excuses! I'll be back soon. Hope you're all well and having wonderful weeks, wherever you are.

A xx

Longing for summer

Today was grey, rainy and miserable: I can taste wet concrete and mushy dead leaves in the air, and my wool coat smells like damp dog. I can't wait to escape the dim gloom of winter and get back to Austin!

"Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jewelled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world." ~ Ada Louise Huxtable

Images: sorry, I don't know all the sources! Bad Andrea and her erratic image storage. Please let me know if you do. (1) and (8) are Marilyn, and (4) is Jenny Lewis.

Endometriosis New Zealand Vintage Fashion Show and High Tea

They've been a week in coming, but here are the pictures from the fashion show last weekend! The fashion show portion of the day was organised by the lovely Vanessa, co-owner of Tete a Tete Vintage in Hereford Street.

This dress is from Vanessa's own collection - I was so tempted to steal it! And then flee the country. Which, conveniently, I will actually be doing in August. Hmm ...

We started hair, makeup and rehearsals at 10:30am. The fashion show itself was at 3:15pm.

This was my daywear look. I promise that I did actually smile, once the initial shock of 'all these people are looking at me' had worn off! The models all wore their own clothes, to show how vintage can be integrated into one's daily wardrobe.

This was the dress I wore for the 'favourites' section. For obvious reasons.



This was the evening section - I actually managed to rip this dress just before I walked out as I bent down to fasten my shoe buckle. It was only a very tiny rip, though, and thankfully you couldn't see it on the runway.

From left to right: Katherine, Vanessa of Tete a Tete Vintage, me and Christina.

Katherine and I!



Hannah, Christina and me again.



It was a fantastic day, and we raised a whopping amount of money for Endometriosis New Zealand. Hurray! It was so much fun to spend the day with like-minded ladies, and to feel like a movie star for the day.

Christchurch vintage-lover meet-up!

Bow - Diva
Dress - brand is Chow Mein, thrifted
Belt - thrifted
Bag - vintage, thrifted
Shoes - No 1 Shoe Warehouse

I've just got back from a wonderful wine and cheese afternoon at the lovely Annette's house. We all had great fun and a lot of bubbly. Wish I could have stayed longer! The theme was red and white, and we all embraced it wholeheartedly.


Boris, looking very dapper in his bow-tie.



From left to right: Annette, Lauren, Brodie, Ally, Over-excited Andrea, Christina, Hannah and Katherine. Boris is probably floating around somewhere too.

And here are some pictures where we're all making a face. Because you have to take some of those.



Because Annette and I share the same shoe size, I had to try on some of her more gravity-defying pairs of shoes.

Wobble, wobble.

Wobble, wobble, wobble, thud, ouch.

Second novel syndrome

I am a walking cliche, in lots of ways. I love old movies, Audrey Hepburn, Zooey Deschanel, cats, coffee, Amelie, Paris and many other things that you would expect me to love (although I also love kung fu movies and going to the dentist). I have discovered a new way in which I am a walking cliche - I am writing a Difficult Second Novel. There is a long and noble history behind the Difficult Second Novel, and I think it is a matter of failing to live up to expectations. Arundhati Roy, the author of The God of Small Things (one of my very favourite books, and one of the two books in which I would not change even one word - The Bone People being the other) is famous for refusing to write another novel. For a while it seemed as if she had washed her hands of that whole business - but apparently she's writing one now. Not that I'm comparing myself to Roy - I mean, my first book hasn't even been released yet (although it's looming ever larger on the horizon) and I'm worrying about my second. That seems a little bit like worrying about what colour your Porsche will be when you win the Lottery. And it's easier for me than it is for writers whose first novel is already out in the world and reviewed - there aren't so many people to try to please.

So why is the second novel so hard? I think there are a few possibilities. A first novel often has autobiographical elements - mine certainly did - and you are spending time with people and in places that you know intimately. The second novel is often more removed, requiring more research and more technique. I think that the second novel could also be a more conscious and more constructed thing than the first. Writing is a job now. You are an author with a capital A, with all the expectations that brings, and you feel more pressure to deliver something competent, with no 'I'm a newbie' excuses. Personally, I feel like having a busy and chaotic year hasn't helped. At least, I'm sure the experiences of this year will help with my writing further down the track, but at the moment they're just making it harder to concentrate. I almost need to cultivate a sort of deliberate boredom to really concentrate on writing - narrow my focus right down, have a rigid routine and remove all distractions so that I have nothing else to do BUT write.

I think my conclusion, after all this, is to stop navel-gazing and second-guessing myself and to just get on with it. And then I can start complaining about the Difficult Third Novel.

"The problem with a second novel is that it takes almost no time to write compared with a first novel. If I write my first novel in a month at the age of 23, and my second novel takes me two years, which have I written more quickly? The second, of course. The first took 23 years, and contains all the experience, pain, stored-up artistry, anger, love, hope, comic invention and despair of that lifetime. The second is an act of professional writing. That is why it is so much more difficult." - Stephen Fry

Clothes are the fur we choose

Mink watched me today as I stepped out of the shower and got dressed. He usually does - and always with a quizzical expression that seems to say "Why do you have to put your fur on and take it off all the time? What a pain." Mink is a very well-groomed gentleman, but never changes out of his impeccable (and vintage - he inherited it from his mother) fur coat. To him, our strange habit of zipping ourselves into fur of outlandish shapes and colours must seem time-consuming and perverse. Mink is Mink. He doesn't need to assert his personality through his appearance. He finds his black coat useful for camouflage as he stalks the sparrows in the garden. He enjoys shedding hairs on our paler clothes, and sleeping on our clean washing. He is a slender dribble of dark ink; a hole cut in the fabric of the universe; a mysterious and shadowy figure with mysterious and shadowy thoughts. I doubt he harbours dreams of being a ginger cat, no matter how debonair they may look; and I have seen him give white cats a look of extreme distaste. I think he sees them as precious, too careful of their pristine coats. He only really trusts tabbies and other black cats (although he did have an illicit fling with a neighbouring pedigree Siamese once. We don't talk about it). He is happy to wear only one outfit, because that one outfit defines him (attempts to put a collar on him have resulted in disaster. He is not a fan of accessorising). He accompanies me outside each day as I take my outfit photos, and watches me with half-closed eyes. More new fur, he thinks. Why can't she just be happy in her own skin? I try to explain societal norms to him - indecent exposure, that sort of thing - but he shrugs it off. I suppose everyone is entitled to their hobby, no matter how strange, he says.

I am so totally Texan right now

Beret - vintage, thrifted
Blouse - thrifted, no label
Waistcoat - vintage little boy's, thrifted
Shorts - 80s, thrifted
Belt - vintage
Tights - who knows?
Shoes - thrifted

At least, I associate denim and plaid with Texas. And, at the other end of the spectrum, floaty white dresses and parasols. Yep, my mental references are entirely based on television and books set in the Civil War era - that will change when we move there, I'm sure.

I finished the most recent set of edits on The Cry of the Go-away Bird this morning. Next will be the copy-editing! In a way, it is strange to think that I began the book in December 2008 and I am still working on it now. It is unrecognisable now, of course - it has changed since the first draft in ways I never could have imagined when I began it. Now that I come to think of it, I started Current Book in November 2009 - scary! Books are a big commitment, like children but quieter. Although I love TCOTGAB (not such a snappy acronym as LOTR), I am looking forward to the day when it has grown old enough to move out of the house and start life on its own. I hope it remembers to call or write now and then, though. And send me Christmas cards.

On solid ground

So it turns out that I was a little premature in my assertion that I had escaped jet-lag this time around. My sleeping patterns definitely haven't quite recovered!

In a way it feels really strange to be back. Mentally, I have already half-moved to Austin, and so everything here seems translucent and removed, as if I am already remembering it rather than living it. I had this feeling in the months before I left Zimbabwe, too. Everything was tinged with nostalgia, even as I was experiencing it, because in my head I was already on the other side of the world. I miss the gorgeous weather, too! Heading back into winter is a little depressing - especially since I was having so much fun running around in shorts and rompers. Well, one romper. The only one on earth that doesn't make me look like a demented four-year-old with toilet training issues. Coming back to cold mornings and condensation on the windows makes me feel like zipping myself into a duvet for the duration of the cold season.

On the other hand, though, it is lovely to catch up with friends, and Mink has been euphoric at our return. He kept waking me up during the night for cuddles (endearing, but I think the charm will wear off if he tries it again tonight).

There is so much to organise now that we're back, too! Visas, removal companies, pet moving services, tax stuff, more tax stuff, endless paperwork, more paperwork, some additional paperwork. I have a pathological hatred of filling out forms. I also have to get my act together and take my full driver's test. I have been on my restricted driver's licence for four years now (in New Zealand you get your learner's first, then move on to a restricted after a practical test, then take your full. The full allows you to drive alone in the middle of the night and to carry passengers who don't have licences). I need to take my full licence test before I can drive in the States - I would still prefer to walk and bike as much as possible, but it is good to have the option to drive, too. Particularly if I am going to be spending as much time in South Congress as I would like!

On top of all this, I have a three-week sub-editing job starting from Monday - just in the mornings, and I'm very much looking forward to it - a new set of edits to work on for The Cry of the Go-away Bird, and a ferocious line-edit to do on New Book before the end of the month. These are all wonderful things that I greatly enjoy doing, but they all add up to a pretty busy month! There is also the Mother's Day High Tea and vintage fashion show this weekend (BUY TICKETS BUY TICKETS from Tete a Tete Vintage - how do you like my subtle subliminal messages?), which is going to be so much fun. I'm going to my first rehearsal for it this evening. Miss New Zealand is taking part in the show as well, and she is going to teach us to walk in a coordinated way. I'm going to try not to stand too close to her, to avoid the inevitable unflattering comparisons! (Just kidding). If you're in Christchurch, come along on Sunday and watch me fall over and drop things. It will be entertaining.

P.S. Thanks so much for all your comments while I was away - I couldn't keep up with replies while we were abroad, as I'm sure you can understand, but I'll try my best to stay up-to-date with them now.

San Francisco!

Sorry for the lack of posting over the past few days - we were so busy that there was absolutely no time! We arrived back in New Zealand this morning, and my internal clock is exceedingly confused. Mink, however, is thrilled - following me from room to room, chatting in a yowly voice. The flights on this trip have been amazing - being upgraded to Premium Economy both ways meant that we both actually got some sleep, for once. I hardly ever manage to sleep on long-haul flights. I feel relatively refreshed today because of it, which is bizarre - I feel like I should be completely exhausted and jet-lagged. Not complaining, though. It's great.

We spent our Thursday and Friday in Austin organising things for our move - exciting to do, but not very exciting to describe, I'm afraid. We did find a fantastic apartment, however - look at my closet space (and excuse the bad indoor photo)! I'm so excited.


We arrived in San Francisco on Friday night. After our busy week, we were thrilled to have a relaxing weekend with LOML and friends. LOML and I took a boat trip on Saturday morning to see the city from the water - spectacular! I particularly loved the Bay Bridge, and the sea lions on Pier 39.








I have met so many great people on this trip - among them the lovely Theresa and Amelia, who were so kind to me in Austin, and Micaela from The Drifter and the Gypsy, who met me on Pier 39 for coffee yesterday morning. It was so lovely to meet you, Micaela! We are definitely going to return to San Francisco - it is such an amazing city, with such a rich culture and such gracious architecture, and I would love to take the time to explore it properly. This time was an exceedingly fleeting visit. Micaela and I did have time to explore the pier, however, and to do a spot of shopping!


I shamelessly stole this photograph from Micaela's lovely blog, because I forgot to take any! The beautiful collaging is all her work.

On Saturday afternoon, we had a picnic with two friends of ours on the hills above the city. To get there, we drove over the famous Golden Gate bridge, which is one of those beautiful man-made structures that seems to actually complement and enhance the landscape rather than just fit into it. There was a jumper on the bridge that day, sadly - he was clinging to a pole when we passed (and he was surrounded by cops), and was still there when we returned to the city a good four hours later. I really hope he decided not to jump, but I'm afraid I don't know the outcome. It was a rather sobering way to experience the bridge, but our picnic on the hills was spectacular - if windy!





In the evening we went to the Top of the Mark - a hotel bar with an amazing view - for a drink, and then to a little Italian restaurant on Nob Hill for dinner. I wish I could remember the name of the restaurant, because it was wonderful. I met two gorgeous ladies there, too - Rozzalynd and Josephine Wiebe, stylish twins who have owned the Twins Armoire Boutique on Nob Hill since 1969. I approached them to compliment them on their amazing hats, and they told me that they had actually made them. So gorgeous. I didn't get a chance to visit their store while I was in San Francisco, but I definitely will on my next trip. If you happen to visit, stop by - it sounds wonderful!