Hump day of my holiday started late again. I had gotten up in the middle of the night to scrounge for food, not realising that Pete's downstairs living area was separated from the kitchen dining area by a two inch lip and kick the shit out of the knuckle of my big toe. This injury would prove to make heel wearing even more painful than it usually is. It was all purple and had a little cut which matched the one I acquired a few days earlier kicking my suitcase in my hunt for late night snacks. Either I need a flashlight or I have to start eating more for dinner. Or putting snacks beside my bed. Again please feel free to send me chili corn nuts.
So I was a little bummed today because no one I knew was available to go to Fashion Week and I knew I would prefer to go with a wingman. Heidi was working, Pete was working, Suzi was working, Kylie was working, Megan was still bedridden with her cold and Asia had one more day horizontal with her broken ankle.
Because my only pair of flats had all but disintegrated, I had to tread carefully as I left the flat in search of sustenance. It all became too much and on the way home I desperately stopped in at the first shop that sold shoes to get a new pair. It was the Salvos. For fifteen bucks I got a pair of men's style lace up leather shoes that I thought were really cute in an old world convent school kind of way. Unfortunately, no one else saw me skipping down the streets like a middle aged Amelie. They just saw a frazzled looking drag queen mixing her leopard print with menswear. If you want to see what you would look like as a frazzled middle age looking drag queen, just load a shitty photo of yourself and go here.
Because I got up late, did a bit of shopping and spent quite some time trying to find someone to go with me, I ended up missing Little Joe Woman which I would have loved to see. I met the beautiful Gail Elliot years ago on the way out of the first MTV awards down under. I was drunkenly squealing with excitement at meeting the supermodel and dragged Joe over to meet her.
"Look it's Yasmin le Bon!"
Faaaark. She was super sweet and explained she was Gail Elliot but that she and Yasmin (wife of Duran Duran front man Simon le Bon) were very close friends. Which was obviously true because apparently Yasmin modeled for her. Best friends indeed!
Anyway, Joe had no idea what either of us were going on about, not having had much interest in models of my youth, although he did get the Duran Duran reference and thought the name of Gail's label was cool.
So I went to Fashion Week solo, which Asia assured me is heaps of fun for people watching. I think that's easy to say when you have lived half your life in Sydney and are bound to run into someone you know from somewhere at some point, but I certainly didn't see anyone I knew. Actually, that's not true. There was some filmmaker dude that I met once at my brother in law Luke's place, but he was a bit of a dick. He only friended Joe on facebook and not his obnoxious wife, which is always a faux pas in my book. He probably would have brushed me off if I said hi anyway...
I saw a group show which included Bless'ed Are The Meek, Guanabana Designs, None the Richer, and Wonders cease.
It was all a bit of a blur but I remember Wonders cease had an amazing intro on the screens on the back wall and None the Richer had an amazing finale dress. The skirt was made of fabric that was laser cut into skulls. I would have loved to see it as a cocktail skirt in black or red for myself, but seeing as I was not shopping I would still recommend it to all the rock and roll princess out there thinking of locking the ball and chain on their muso's ankle. It was a great twist on a traditional wedding dress!
I hit the Rosemount Bar again where they were serving champagne and a variety of Rosemount Botanicals. I don't normally drink white wine, but these aromatic whites were actually really nice. And not just cos they were free, bitches! The Chardonnay was infused with apple and cucumber flavour and quite crisp. It definitely tasted like a Granny Smith, but without the crunch. The Pinot Grigio was very sweet and infused with blood orange and rosewater. Probably a bit too sweet for me, but one glass was nice. I probably would have enjoyed it if I had a bag of chips or some chili corn nuts to take the edge off! The Sauvignon Blanc was probably my favourite with the twist of lemon and spicy elderberry, but hey after that many glasses who could tell! Plus they were all served up by a very friendly bar staff with cute citrus coloured bowties - a much sought after souvenir of the week!
I was going to stay for another show but by now the stupid booties that I decided to wear were totally killing me and I was sick of the outfit I had chosen. It was a vintage 1940's sheer dress with a matching belt that was made by a local seamstress in Woopi and picked up at her estate sale. I wish I had gotten there earlier and had bought all of her stuff because the fabric was quality and the sewing was perfect. But with the wind coming of Sydney Harbour sending a chill through both dress and petticoat, I thought it was time to take my limping legs and head back home to change into something a little more comfortable. Like a parka and some Ugg boots.
Back at Pete's Palace, I quickly scanned my facebook. I found out three things. Joe was still missing me, OBL was dead (whatever that meant!) and Karissa Fanning was in town.
Karissa is a beautiful person inside and out. She is married to two times world champion surfer Mick Fanning. I met her after she got Grinspoon to play at Mick's first homecoming party as World Champion. Joe and Mick hit it off like a house on fire (or at least one that had been liberally doused in alcohol) and have been merry mates ever since. Joe invited them both to the Big Day Out which is where I met them. They graciously invited us to their wedding even after I shoved peanuts up Mick's wrist cast that night, something we both forgot the next morning due to inebriation. His doctor was very surprised when he cut the cast off.
(Daniel Johns, Karissa, Mick and Joe backstage at the BDO)Karissa and Mick put on the most spectacular wedding I have ever seen. It was beautiful and fun at the same time. I've never been so awestruck while pissing myself laughing! Karissa organised the whole event and has since created a website to share her wedding styles and inspirations with other brides to be. Be sure to check out The Lane. It's a must read for all bridezillas in need of direction and soothing inspiration.
I remembered the great wedding dress that I saw earlier and texted K-Dog to see what she was up to later in the day. She and her friend Lori were working (aka shopping up a storm) in Paddington, but were planning to head out later in the evening for an after party in King's Cross.
I lazed around and contemplated going back to another show or going out. My feet felt like blistered mangled stumps of a second row ballerina who spent the whole show en pointe. My only choice were my catholic girl school shoes. Good enough.
For some reason I thought I would go my version of casual rock chic. I wore a pair of jeans, a black top, my leopard print coat, messy curly hair and of course my stumpy men's shoes. The effect was like a butch vintage Liz Taylor. And not necessarily in the good way.
I was going to make the last show, but Karissa rang and said she and Lori were just heading to the after party so I decided I would walk up to the Cross cos my feet hadn't had enough punishment. I had no clue where I was going but that it was called the Beach Haus and it was on Roslyn Street somewhere in the Cross.
Luckily Joe is an Oporto fan and there is one conveniently located on Roslyn Street. After that all I had to due is look for some fashionistas with clip boards and even more queued up trying to look like they don't want to get in even though the are exuding the scent of people who desperately do.
Karissa and Lori pulled up in a cab and my heart immediately sank. While I was going for casual chic or dressy bull dyke, these two girls were going for all out glamour! I'm generally the odd one out with my fashion choices and tonight was no exception. Mind you, having these two pretty young things with me guaranteed an easy access to pretty much anywhere I wanted to go. I just decided I would pretend I was the duenna for some rich Eurotarts!
The Beach Haus was a bit boring as there was hardly anyone there and the music was thumping. It reminded me of a highschool dance before the hormones take over with everyone sitting around the edge of the dance floor, hugging the walls and trying to not look uncomfortable. Conversation was difficult so I concentrated on gulping down a few complimentary beers to loosen the tension.
The girls decided this place was boring and we should try to cross the road and get into the Backroom where the Bec and Bridge after party was being held. I had tried all day to get us on the guest list to no avail, although I think we were on the Beach Haus one three times - not that the door dude even looked at his sheet after checking out my hot company.
Karissa, Lori and I were formulating a plan of attack on how to brazen our way through the velvet rope. I was visualising someone coming to our rescue when suddenly, round the corner, comes Kumar! Kumar is a lovely man and the founder of AM Eyewear, a brand that I adore. I have a few pairs of their sunnies and I always feel like a million bucks wearing them. Mind you I have also been trying to convince Kumar to name a pair after me cos I think that would be the peak of chic! I have as many pairs of sunnies as I do shoes and AM's are some of the best.
So now that I've sucked arse for a bit can you design a pair just for me, Kumar? lol
Kumar offered to try to get us in on his guest list, but just as we were all jumping with excitement, his mates came out and were ready to head off. Kumar offered to take us to the Oxford Arts Factory for another after party, but Karissa and Lori were keen to try our luck so we stayed in the Cross.
I was feeling pretty doubtful about our chances at getting in as The Backroom after party as it had just opened a few days earlier and was packed out. There were not one, but two door girls and they were thoroughly going through their list. But never underestimate the power of two well dressed girls. Karissa kept her cool and let the first door girl try to find her name. When she got to the end of the C's without finding Karissa, Karissa suggested she look under K.
The line up was getting impatient and the second door bitch came down the stairs to see what the hold up was.
"Who are you here with?" she asked.
"We are on Nadine's guest list," said Karissa sweetly.
"That's fine, just go in."
Karissa, the sneaky bitch, had overheard the person ahead of us and recognising the name, just added us to the list. Apparently she knew the girl well enough to ring her if there was a problem, but it was nice work regardless!
So we were in the exclusive backroom. It was crowded, dark, cosy and obviously the place to be. We inched closer to the bar and I spotted John Ibrahim in the dark. I didn't know he owned the club, but I've seen him heaps on the news and in the papers. Karissa and Lori had no idea who he was til I mentioned the last season of Underbelly but we all felt it was kinda cool to see the controversial figure in real life.
We got our drinks and then made our way to the back of the bar where there was a bit of standing room and the DJ booth. There were a few couches right beside the booth and my tootsies were coveting a sit down. As soon as the older lady with the turban and her escort vacated, I looked around hoping it was cool to snag the tush cushions. A flashlight shone from the DJ booth and gestured to the seats. We were cool to sit.
I realised after we had made ourselves comfy that the person inviting us to sit down was the owner Ibrahim himself. That was pretty cool! At least we knew we weren't going to get kicked out!
Us girls launched into a big discussion about The Lane and what Karissa was planning to do to expand the site. It has been getting heaps of feedback and she seems ready to take it to a new level with more written content and expanding on the types of celebrations people do when they are in love. I think her site will really go far and it was fun to brainstorm for ideas. Giddy with excitement we decided it was time to do some tequila shots at the little bar near us.
I asked a bloke near the DJ booth to mind our stuff and suddenly John Ibrahim is joking about with us about stealing our stuff.
"Well, you'll probably look better than me in leopard print!" I say, thinking that if he did nick my vintage jacket I'd be pissed but too chicken to do anything about it.
The tequila bar didn't take credit cards so Karissa and I sat back down after Lori volunteered to get drinks at the other bar. The dude who offered to mind our jackets suddenly showed up with a couple of champagnes. I thought he was being a gentleman and carrying them for Lori but they were drinks bought for us. I'm sure he was spewing that I wasn't at the bar so he could get them for the cute young ones. And I'm sure Lori was spewing cos she probably would have been happier sipping free champagne than standing in line for three paid for ones!
Lori got back after a while, looking rather confused as to why we were already imbibing, but we all had a giggle and started knocking back our table of drinks.
Then the dude comes back.
"Us guys are going to a different bar and you girls should come with us."
Without hesitation both girls got up. I'm not sure if I made the whole Underbelly thing quite clear to them, but I am happy to go along for the ride. I'm not a twenty something willowy former model, so I'm pretty sure it's not me they are going to be hitting on, so off we go.
John walks ahead of us chatting to Karissa fronted by body guards. Lori and the guy in the denim jacket follow them with me tagging along. The body guards behind us are like moving Easter Island rocks. Big, solid and sombre.
We strolled up the stairs to the Piano Bar like regulars. Through the main room, to the VIP room to the next VIP room till we were way at the back of the venue near a small door beside the bar. Ibrahim stood with his back to the wall, which is probably a good move considering the family history of being shot. They shouted us round after round of champagne and vodka redbulls. At one point I was out the VIP back room where the bins are, smoking ciggies with Brian McFadden. He is really tall with a big pumpkin sized head. He looked really rough and was talking about having had three Xanax to go to sleep the night before and almost missing his flight, all while eyeing up Karissa and Lori. I'm starting to guess there might have a been a few reasons behind his split with Delta. I think she might be just a wee bit more clean cut than him!
All the guys were busy chatting up the girls giving me plenty of time to contemplate the fact that this will be the last time I go out in Sydney without dressing up. I looked like a complete dickhead and I was easily the shortest person in the room. At least I made John Ibrahim comfortable because he was only slightly taller than me.
At some point in the evening she told him that I was married to the bass player from Grinspoon and he came over putting his arm around my shoulders like a long lost friend. It seemed that he was a Grinspoon fan and had seen them years ago when they were a support for someone.
"I said at the time that I thought those guys would go far and look at them now!"
I told him if he like them, then next time they were playing in the city, I'd get his name on the door. Like he'd need it.
Anyway, not long after that, they found out that both Karissa and Lori, like me, were happily married. Ibrahim thought this was hilarious and told the girls to keep stringing his mate Brian (Denim Brian, not Irish Brian) along but he must have been told by Lori cos he wasn't pleased. During a smoke break I tried to console him about picking up a group of married women. He seemed shocked at his bad odds, but I just thought it was kinda funny.
He bought us another round of drinks and then disappeared and not long after so did we. The girls were starving and I was tired even though I was buzzed from about four cans of Red Bull. Whoever thought of mixing Vodka Red Bulls needs to be whipped.
I put the girls in a cab waving goodbye as we made drunken promises to meet up in the morning knowing full well that there was no way anyone of us was going to be up in time to meet for breakfast before noon!
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