...and dressing up

The other side of being comfortable in small amounts of miscellaneous causal wear is an enthusiasm for proper dressing up. As far as I can tell, this is of two basic sorts: smart casual and fancy dress. The first – at the risk of sounding unfairly derogatory - tends to 80s disco and the kind of blingy dressiness that people in the North East of England do very well. The second is the propensity to use any occasion to party in a costume; starting with party hats and getting more and more outrageous as required (for example, playing bowls dressed as characters from superhero films). Or not just being Father Christmas in the pub, but also some Christmas parcels.

dressing down....

Still struggling with wearing the right amount of clothes (i.e. less) for the hot and humid conditions. This is partly because everyday Coogee-style is basically a very casual cross between swimwear, sports gear and pyjamas.  People seem completely calm about going around in their underwear whilst I have neither the aptitude nor the physique to do this.

So, still wearing too many layers (and carrying a jumper with me at all times ‘just in case’). Even when I walk down to my tennis lesson ( – I know, I am impressed too! -)  in shorts and a teeshirt I feel a bit naked. Who knows how long adaption to new climes is going to take. Probably just in time for returning to London.


As many of my friends will know, I am not a snappy dresser. Happy to lounge around in my PJs for much of the day if allowed. One of the things I like about Moscow is that - inside - everyone dresses down like this, even to visit their neighbours in nearby blocks. But that is inside, and amongst people you know, not on public display. Here my old-fashioned English reticence definitely leaps to the fore. 

fashionable

I have been taking inordinate numbers of photographs of the older Australian – both male and female – because I really like their style, which definitely tends to the eccentric. Although given that most everyone, particularly near the beach, seems to wear relatively random items and not much of that, maybe just part of a more general non-age-specific continuum. Makes me feel very uptight and British; all those layers I am used to hiding behind. The combination of 40 degrees, glaring heat, torrential rain storms and high humidity is playing havoc with my sartorial choices.

falling in love

I think I have fallen in love with Newtown. This might be just a brief infatuation, but very happy to be strolling idly down scrappy looking streets offering second-hand and vintage clothes, weird designer outfits, plus miscellaneous other paraphernalia (and of course with loads of places to eat). Just a sucker for hipsterville.

leaving (1)

A bit unexpectedly find myself leaving the country once more, this time to Sydney for a year. The weirdest thing about packing is realising what a large proportion of my wardrobe comprises thick coats, woolly hats and scarfs, gloves, warm cardigans, winter boots and the like. Both extremely happy to be leaving this all behind (I think) and aware how much storage space it will require whilst I am gone.

So goodbye novelty Doc Martens, Russian valenki and galoshes.