Manhattan

http://www.newyorkpalace.com/experiencenyc/culture.php

Sometimes a girl has to wait a long time for what she wants.

I have dreamt of returning to Manhattan, quite literally. I shall visit the Flatiron, of course, and no-one shall hold me back from those gorgeous Art Deco pieces of architecture-divine that are the Chrysler and Empire State Buildings.

It seems the city for me, in so many ways. A most favourite poet, Jordie Albiston, wrote The Fall which was based on a 1940s photograph of a young woman who married death to life from the top of the Empire State. I cannot do it justice here. You must seek it out; with the photograph.

I could wrap myself in Manhattan, quite literally. If I could afford it. You know I am referring to the stockings which you have seen here.

But I shall have to wait. They are extraordinarily expensive, because they are as precious as bespoke lingerie.

They are made on machines that weigh 6 tonnes each, and are 17 metres long. They have 16,800 needles which produce only 30 stockings (or 15 pairs) an hour. Then they are hand sewn from top to toe, and dyed to some of the beautiful colours you saw on my previous post.

One day I shall have my very own pair in bitter chocolate.

Until then I shall have to enjoy it vicariously.

xx

Dashboard

I love the word "dashboard". Besides our blogging engine room here, it is that fine stretch beneath the windscreen which forms the bottom of the frame of all things lovely and long distance.

Recently I took another eleven-plus hour road trip with the pup and a dear friend. Here are some of the lovely sights we found along the way:

If one little church isn't enough,

why it just makes sense to build another church about the same size right beside it.

Car graveyard. Such lovely old beauties.

Matching signage. How gorgeous!

Everything here was just as we had imagined.

And of course something sweet for the trip home.

Write and tell me what you have been doing!

xx

Underlying Intentions

In my last post I had something to show you. Something absolutely delicious and desirous. It was a fabulously overwhelming gift from the friend I mentioned.

It was one of those rare and treasured  occasions when a girl is surprised by something she could have only dreamt of calling her own. I had not mentioned my preferences to anyone, and it was only vaguely referenced here in my blog, so it was a wonderful surprise. What makes my dear endowerer even more incredible is that the selected sizing was impeccably accurate.

Most of you are familiar with my preference for many of the delightful items at What Katie Did. For a few years now I have been secretly lusting over a particular design in their corset range. What a very lucky girl I am to be able to cinch myself with the gorgeous Morticia.



If you have ever received a parcel from this gorgeous boutique, you will know how the pleasure begins as you unwrap your delicate items from the volumes of black tissue, which has been carefully beribboned and subtly marked for posting. Their corsets also come in lavish satin bags for safe keeping.

You can imagine how overwhelmed a girl could be to learn that her divine friend had been busily sourcing both the US and UK collections for such an indulgence. More than this, it was to be a part of an entire lavish ensemble!

After examining it on-screen so often, one would think that I would know the items in my favourite What Katie Did range by touch. But with my eyes averted and my fingers feeling those lines of stitching, soft satin and powermesh I could not believe my lingerie fantasies were being realised. I am entirely enamoured with so many of the items in the delectable Maitresse range. Can you believe what gorgeous things I found?

The Maitresse Bullet Bra

An essential item in a vintage girl's wardrobe

The Maitresse Knickers

Tasteful and glamourous

The most perfect Fully Fashioned Stockings

Authentic, specially made on rare machines, and with a keyhole welt.

and to hold that beauty in place

The Maitresse Girdlette

with six very fine quality garter tabs for a sure grip.

What a very fortunate girl I am. However, at the moment they are being admired in my drawers as I wait patiently for a visit from my very generous gifter.

A girl shouldn't wear them for just anyone.

xx

How Far I've Come

So much time has passed since my last post, and although it was filled with unprecedented activity, I must admit I have missed you.

As you know, I took a little sojourn abroad. Since then I was hurled into a whirlwind of obligations: at home and at university. In those first weeks of November I handed in my final assignments - some a little earlier than expected. A dear friend called me in those heady days to share some dreadful news: the company he owned had been sabotaged by a fellow director while he had spent the past 18 months, some 4000 km away, setting up a new office. The effects were devastating. Even though it was not due until the following week, I wrote into the early hours and through the next day so I could submit my final assignment, and be available if he needed me.

When he called the next day things had become worse. I sped down to the university to hand in my essay, which they thankfully accepted even though the faculty had closed. I arrived home to find the girl dearest to me with my favourite flowers to celebrate the end of my degree. I explained what had happened, and she agreed that I should help him pack his apartment and the new business address so he could return to head office immediately. How very cruel it seemed to ask her to cancel her celebratory plans and take those beautiful flowers back with her.

I had 30 minutes to organise my flight, taxi and suitcase, and negotiate a lift to take that sweet girl home. The plane was the last one to leave town, and I was exhausted when I arrived at my destination some six hours later.

The next few days were spent packing his home and office. I do not envy the personal grief he had to endure during those dark days. On the third day he flew back to head office while I spent that, and the next, packing and cleaning his apartment. After the removalists left I took his magnificent vehicle to the international terminal to be shipped home. Because of the airport curfew I waited seven hours before catching the last plane to his home town.

The flight travelled through the night to arrive four and a half hours later at 6:00am. With a chatty passenger beside me, I disembarked without sleeping. I was met and whisked to a shower, and then went into the office for a ten hour day. Although it is not my line of business, I did what I could there for the next two weeks before flying home. I had so much to do. My little house was evidence of serious neglect while I had studied. But I also eagerly awaited my final grades and looked forward to my graduation.

How very excited I was to be awarded four high distinctions for the semester, and a high distinction average for my course. My graduation day was such a special day for me, and I was so pleased to be offered Honours. I spent it with my beloved "flower" girl, and my dear friend who flew in especially.

The next day I packed up the car and my puppy and we took a 12 hour road trip - the first day of a four week holiday. I spent time at beaches, by the pool, with good books, but most importantly with family and friends.

Now I am back and am unpacking, I have something to show you. It is something delicious, and something you know I love especially.

Can you wait until the next post?

I promise to post pictures ...

I hope you have been good, and have accrued a few pretty packages of your own.

Shall we share?

xx

Basílica de la Sagrada Família

I really should be studying, but thought I would sneak a few pictures up for you from my holiday.

The first day in Barcelona was spent here. I have been longing to visit her for such a long time.

Isn't she magnificent?

xx

A Very Restrictive Souvenir

After arriving home last Monday I have been thrown back into my university obligations and have not had time to tell you all about my most perfect holiday. But I did get myself a little souvenir from here:

After browsing a very arousing selection, the Fairy Gothmother herself chose something for me and whisked me into the change room before I knew it. She laced me so tightly in this corset, but in ivory satin.

So tightly that she reduced my waist by six inches. I don't think I have ever moaned in pleasure as much as she tightened those laces so powerfully and without remorse. Well, perhaps not until I arrived in Barcelona a few days later.

I will have to tell you all about it soon.

Be good, my dear watchers.

xx

Basque in Barcelona

Sometimes a girl has to be a little spontaneous. And a little wicked. Sometimes she has to stretch herself a little further than she should. She should grasp a gorgeous opportunity when it is with such divine company.

She should not resist.

And so I have acquiesced.

                                                        Naughty, naughty me.


I do not mind how imprudent it is. I think that makes it nicer, and my inviter is so enticing.

A girl can sometimes do things she should not.

Or perhaps she should, after all.

I can't wait.

In just a few weeks I shall be here:

Can a girl have too much that she loves all at once? She might need you to hold her down.

I love it when you do that.

xx

Serendipity

Recently, I travelled some distance to break the monotony for a dear friend who had been stationed in isolation.

Our first morning began with a beautiful breakfast and stash of travel goodies before ensconcing ourselves in the black beast which found its way to a quaint country town a few hours east.

On the outskirts of the town is a disused mill which houses a weekend market. We purchased locally made cinnamon rolls and date scones, and perused the wooden and woollen handicrafts before cruising into town.

We found a lolly shop filled with all those favourites synonymous with sunny memories as children. Dusty second hand stores were stuffed with unwanted oddments; a discarded collection of other people's lives.

Along the main street is an old restored courthouse staffed by a local lady, who told us how she made butter as a girl and rode, three to a horse, to school.

And then there was the Motor Museum housing some of the regular regional favourites, and a few absolutely astounding unique vehicles. One was a Chevrolet Eldorado Biarritz of which there were only several hundred made. There are reputedly only 20 left. She is a hard top convertible who puts her roof up when it rains even if you are not there. You really must see the photos:

We then had a local lunch where I accidentally spilt my malted milkshake across the lap of my trusted driver just before we departed. I found this disaster in vanilla incredibly amusing because of the poker face, (and thankfully the grace) of my travel companion. After many tea-towels and some surreptitious sponging we rejoined the beast for a roundabout return along the country roads. (Which was punctuated with my bursts of giggling in recollection of the incident, much to my driver's chagrin ...)

The way home was as beautiful as the roads we had taken to come. Fields of canola crops coloured our journey home (as did sour worm lollies and ginger biscuits).

In retrospect I found our day filled with all the things I loved.

My spontaneous visit to cheer a dear friend four thousand kilometres away was also a wonderful weekend for me.

xx

Holiday Hootenanny

My oh my, what a busy time it has been these last few weeks.

Besides the usual festivities and feting, I have had the opportunity to indulge in some favourite pastimes and challenge myself in activities I would not otherwise have contemplated.

Being in a different city where many of my old friends live allows me to fill my dates with visits across town and suburbs. But this can also prove a challenge, especially is there are other enticing activities playing here for a short time only. And thus presented my quandary. Fortunately I am also graced by the benefaction and generosity of many friends and family who either share my interests, or are willing to oblige them. So I proposed an open invitation to a photography exhibition and was pleased with the disparate but comfortable little group which kindly joined me.

The exhibition exceeded my expectation, as did the positive and varied perspectives on the work when we reconvened in a noisy bar a few winding streets behind. Conversations continued from afternoon through evening as we revisited places we used to frequent for pre- and post-dinner drinks.

                                           *        *        *        *        *

Conversely, I was invited to a family event at an activity park. Such venues are usually a little off my radar, but I decided this might be a fun way to extend my perceptions and my physical abilities. Heck, in the borrowed clothing I had to wear I could be assured no-one would recognise me if I made a blazing fool of myself.

Did I say I thought this may be fun? It was a downright holiday hootenanny! I leapt, dived, careened, tobogganed, bumped, glided, and bobsledded my way through the park. I ate and drank naughty things and somehow didn't mind a bit. I saw happy people from such a variety of diverse and colourful demographics constantly around me. Opposing re-visitations to activities were all jovially accommodated within our group. We arrived home tired, in need of a long warm shower, and sated. In fact, the fun may have rivaled my convivial cultural excursion.

Such can be the dividend of disparity. Surprising and opposing components in these unfamiliar environs made for some very propitious opportunities. Perhaps that is why I like to subversively challenge my perceptions of normatives, whether personal, social, or ideological.

I would love it if you could share some of yours with me. (I promise I won't tell!)

xx

Sweet Holiday Dreams

We are coming to that time of year when many of us are taking holidays and enjoying the opportunity to spend luxurious hours with those dearest to them. These happy little events are usually combined with fine victuals and infusions, and often a few little wrapped surprises.

This year I have started a little early, flitting over to the farthermost city of our fair country to visit and to venture through places I remember, and others I have heard lauded.

And what a piquant little time it was. One of the most surprising days was spent in a small university town outside of the city. Design, unusual stationery which incorporated themes and images from children’s books, and sweet little cafes tucked into tiny facades were inspiring and delightful. This was also a dream-come-true place of pristine vintage books in tiny stores with friendly prices. Bookish owners who were happy to discuss details of strange literacy histories and hearsay. Dark and dusty shops with vinyl records which you thought had disappeared for ever, or did not know existed, which rest heavily on others which have acquired a kitch, quaint or quirky presence as all our years seemed to have passed them by. There were, of course, others which would make you feel queasy if they made it to the turntable, but on the shelves simply seemed amusing. How exciting it was to walk out of the store with one of those slim square plastic bags made just for records. Shall I tell you what I made mine?

Greg Dear and the Beautiful Losers “lover/saint” and Nina Simone “forbidden fruit” as LPs. (Doesn’t 'LP' sounds so K-Tel!), the Bamboos “Virginia” b/w “Snuff” and the very exciting Partridge Family “I Think I Love You” b/w “Somebody Wants to Love You” on 7”. I also got a little Tubeway Army single for a dear friend.

And like surprises, friends are what make travel so worthwhile. I was fortunate to enjoy both on my glorious first day. There was sunshine, a big black beast of a vehicle, and beaches. We swam in that rollicking surf and stretched out on the sand to dry.  The twilight generously gave us extra hours to explore a park with small pools, rolling lawns, unfamiliar flowers and plants and wading water birds. And there was the most perfect present for me to remember the time we had.

But sometimes a girl cannot spend enough time with her oldest and dearest friend, and I am afraid it was often compromised. Although I later ventured with others south into vineyards to discover delicious things, pristine seashores that extended to the horizons, and beautiful art and architecture, I missed the quiet time I would have liked to have had together to catch up on the little things which seem to make the most sense in this busy old world.