hipster made it
My year so far in hipstermatic photos…
1. Blue toenails days after making SNH a piece of baby art for his birthday on NYE.
2. The coolest fellas I know. New Years day, after yum cha.
3. Flaming Mai Tai at Chat Thai. A stolen few hours sans baby thanks to SNH’s mum (bub’s Nain) and sister. My first (long stretch of) time away from bub. I was giddy and very nervous. Still I had a coffee (AMAZING! Can’t have it with him as he responds badly to it) and a cocktail with my lunch (decadent!).
4. Holidays with dad. Café baby serenades the table next to us.
5. Slightly obsessed with Black Star Patisserie in Newtown.
6. My sister (a.k.a Cool Aunty Ursula) giving bub’s talons a manicure. Those things are sharp!
7. Holly Throsby and the Hello Tigers at the world famous Spiegletent for the Sydney Festival. Bub had a blast watching other kids rock out.
8. Tiki party at Rose Seilder House. Our first night out sans bub. Who was happily sleeping at home with his Oma and Pop babysitting.
9–10. This is what happens when SNH has one mai tai (made with rocket fuel) art shots ensue.
Another bloomin’ wedding
Last weekend SNH, bub and I took a trip out past Camden to attend a wedding. It was between a flower farmer — one of SNH’s fishing buddies — and a florist, a match made in delicately scented heaven.
Andrew, the groom, grows hydrangeas and other high-end blousey blooms like ranunculus and supplied all the flowers for our wedding. Which as a side note was absolutely wonderful, since hydrangeas are my absolute favourite flower and it was so calming to travel up to the farm and put together our own arrangements a few days before our wedding.
Their wedding was a small, relaxed affair with a marque on the edge of the dam and the ceremony under the branches of weeping jacaranda trees. And as you would assume the floral arrangements were amazing — centring around gardenias and white roses.
The photos are pretty blown out, as it was an incredibly glary day.
{Graphic Design} Australian Style Manual
When I has a starving graphic design student I would hungrily devour any design-related book I could put my grubby hands on. My Austudy was spent on books about the history of typography, logo design, branding and packaging or anything deconstructionist – this was the late 90s after all – but there was one thing missing from this myriad of books: a comprehensive book on graphic design. Something that encompassed all the disciplines and principles we learnt about, one book I could carry with me instead of the five I would normally cram into my spiky rubber messenger bag (hello, 90s!) and lope off to class with.
As the art director for an educational publisher was privileged to have another perspective of the market and find there was still nothing holistic in the textbook world of this kind, nothing that really caught my eye that is. Nothing that spoke to me as an Australian designer or talks of the talent emerging from this region or of how Australian’s as a design audience respond to different ideas and trends that are presented to them.
So I decided to rectify that.
Two years ago I pitched my idea to the Vocational Education publisher and his publishing manager at McGraw-Hill, where I was working as art director. They were very interested but insisted I follow protocol and submit a formal proposal, with research to back up my claims of market need.
6 months later, after their own analysis was completed the book was signed! And everyone involved was very excited. I set to work building my team of super-duper design educator-authors and we started writing.
The result is a book we are all immensely proud of. In the process of writing and compiling this baby, I have been blown away by the generosity of the Australian and New Zealand design communities. Every designer I contacted happily contributed work and the general comment was ‘It’s about time a book like this was published’. So too were the feelings from the design education area. We were buoyed by support from design educators and their willingness to give feedback to hone the content.
It has been a complete labour of love, and would be nothing without my co-authors and the design community. But it just goes to underline the message in our book: Australian design is about the collective. And the collective is filled with lovely, talented people. And I thank you all.
The book was published in October 2011 – mere weeks after bub was born. And yes, I was furiously working on this book whilst heavily pregnant, praying that it would be finished before the baby arrived!
Yesterday, I received and email from my publisher informing me that we are going to our first reprint – already! Amazing, obviously there really was a need and people are responding to it.
One of my favourite parts of writing this book to was getting in contact with and having chat to some of my favourite Australian and NZ designers, especially for the spotlight features (of which there are two in every chapter). I was super chuffed to interview the following people for the book: Justin Fox, Australian Infront; Lara Burke, Frankie magazine; Dean Poole, Alt Group; James de Vries, de Luxe & Associates; Beci Orpin; Jeremy Wortsman, the Jacky Winter Group; Kris Sowersby, Klim type foundry; Wayne Thompson, Campbell Milligan, Monster Children; Rueben Crossman, Murdoch books; Brad Eldridge, Soap Creative; Alister Coyne, Hair Cow; Sophie Tatlow, Deuce Design; Vince Frost, Frost* Design, Rita Siow, AGDA.
Credits:
Art director and cover designer: Me
Cover illustration: James Gulliver Hancock
Internal design and typesetting: Em&Jon Design
And to add to the coolness, a few weeks ago I had a complete rockstar moment at bookstore Kinokuniya in Sydney.
One of my dreams was to have the book stocked in Kinokuniya’s vast and well researched design department. So I was giddy with delight when I found that not only was it in stock, but they had multiple copies on prominent display.
As I stood there giggling, my mother was snapping away. Photographing me, the book, the store – everything. I had thought to be slightly more surreptitious but there was no disguising my proud mum. So instead I approached the design department counter and informed them that I was not some random weirdo but rather the excited author of that lovely pink book over there. And as it was my first ever book published and as we were excited they had it in stock, we were taking photos – if they didn’t mind.
Not only did the ladies not mind, they invited me to sign a few copies! Embarrassed, I declined only to be persuaded by them (and my mother). So I ended up signing 5 copies. At a lost as to whether to personalise them (‘Stay classy’, ‘say no to drugs’, etc), I went with just a signature and heart.
They even posted about the signing on the Kinokuniya facebook page!
Total. Rock. Star.
When last in Kinokuniya, just before xmas there was only one signed copy left (the display copy)!
So that is the (abbreviated) story of how I became a published author. I wonder what 2012 will have in stock for me?
**UPDATE!**
I found out last week that {Graphic Design} Australian Style Manual has been shortlisted in the Australian Publishers Assoc. Book Design Awards, for best Tertiary Book Design. Winners are announced 17 May 2012, fingers crossed.
Baby mullet
What to do about this?
Archie is growing a mullet. He was born with a full head of head, sideburns and little werewolf hair ears (so sweet!). Slowly that mop thinned out and the new growth at the front is ginger (!!) but the stuff at the back is still thick and dark, and getting longer. Except for the ring where his head rubs while asleep – that is short. Giving him a strange toupe/mullet do.
So what do we do? Clipper the mullet? Is that scareligious to cut babies hair? Do we grin a bare it? It’s not the end of the world but it is a little daggy looking.
Sweet beginnings
Happy new year! I hope you all had a pleasant end of 2011, whether celebrating Xmas with family or blithely ignoring the whole thing.
SNH, bub and I had a drawn out Xmas – one day for us, one day at SNH’s parents, one day at my parents, and one day with my extended family. We were truly worn out and over celebrating by the end of it! However, it being bub’s first xmas we soldiered on, enjoying family, food and the thing that really makes xmas interesting – little kids.
SNH and I decided to treat ourselves on Xmas eve and took a trip to Gelato Messina in Darlinghurst. Known for their experimental flavours, they have recently opened a ‘lab’ next door which they call a low temperature patisserie. Did someone say cakey ice cream things? I was giddy with excitement.
My Slivkova Pavlova
Inside the treat
I tried the Slivkova Pavlova (vanilla gelato, freeze dried raspberries, passionfruit dusted meringue, raspberry geleè, passionfruit) – it was amazing! Tart, squishy and delicious. SNH had the Arabian Knight (Pistachio gelato, orange scented chocolate coated rosewater marshmallow, Marsala soaked) which he thought his was rather nice too. Really layered flavouring.
SNH's Arabian Knights
Tasty knights
After we polished off our treats while sitting the gelato bar, we thought we really should try some of their actual gelato flavours. Of course! So we shared a cup of Christmas pudding and salted caramel. The pudding was one of the best gelato’s I’ve ever had. Changing and evolving as it moved around my mouth. From a rum ‘n raisin opening note to the deep spice after taste. I am drooling just writing about it. But it was so rich that we really only could eat half a cup. So when it came to getting a take home (naturally!) we went for salted caramel (yes, it was also very good), peanut butter and chocolate fondant.
Hello pudding gelato
I recommend following them on twitter, so you can get notifications of their new flavours – if you are so inclined: @Gelato_Messina
Hello more noms. You are coming home with us.
I have decided that I need to blog more. I guess you could call it a new years resolution. Although it’s more of a ‘do something with this lagging blog’ resolution. I tend to think about it, think of something interesting, then forget it and end up posting photos of gelato ;p
But while pondering the future of my blog, I have come up against something I thought I would never even think about – turning this in to some sort of mummy blog. As my life now revolves around a small being I am often amazed at how little I do that is not connected to him in some way. And my blog/news/live journal has always just been a documentation of my life – therefore is this a natural progression?
I have been reading a lot of really lovely mummy blogs over the summer (one claire day, dear olive, rummey bears, the beetle shack) and have been discussing these thoughts with SNH. His response is to write as I always have, but don’t make a conscience decision to be a ‘mummy blogger’. I’ll have times when I write about bub but I will have times when I write about other stuff. It’ll even itself out, eventually.
Plus I don’t want to lose who I am to a label.
Did you make any new years resolutions?
Outpost
At the beginning of November our little family unit set off for an adventure across the waves — well across the harbour really — to the Outpost project on Cockatoo Island. Set amongst the remnants of old ship building yards, on an island in the centre of Sydney harbour, Outpost showcased street art from a (less than exciting) exhibition of Banksy prints, to grand scale installations (life sized house reconstructed in a factory, anyone?). Huge pieces were painted on the side of old buildings, canvas pieces were exhibited in subterranean tunnels, and t-shirts hung like a rainbow. Sounds fascinating and wonderful!
Well the truth is, it was a little ho-hum. Not to sound ‘old skool’ but street art has really gone mainstream as demonstrated by the assortment of punters included golden oldies, who would tsk and tut-tut any of this work were they to see it on their streets.
While just a young thing in design school, I got interested in graffiti. It was exciting, smelly and creatively challenging – and gave me a taste for street art. The interest in which continued once SNH and I got together (the following year in design school). Those were the days when we ran around Melbourne delighting in finding Banksy’s rats, photographing stencils and SNH almost fainted when Shepard Fairey walked into the Bunnings he worked at (he was installing an exhibition down the road for the first Semi Permanent in 2003. On a side note I have an original Banksy photocopy print from that awesome exhibition laying around here somewhere.) Anyway, blah blah blah, we liked it before it was cool, yadda yadda yadda, we’re a little bit over it now.
So for us, the star of the day was Cockatoo Island it self. Wandering around such an amazing island with a long and varied history was great!
It was lovely to get out and about and start exposing young Archie to a bit of culture — plus his first ferry ride!
Me and 6 week old Archie, take a break from looking around
Having said all that, hats off to the organisers. It was a monumental effort!
Life and my new universe.
I have sat down to write this blog numerous times over the last month. I have been interrupted and called away every single time, resulting in nothing of substance or one occasion a long, boring catalogue of events, which would send anyone to sleep.
So now I have a few minutes, I am going to try again!
The last bump photo!
4 weeks ago, at 4.54am on Monday 26 September our son, Archer, was born. It was a marathon labour that lasted 32 hours.
It all kicked off on Saturday night, just after dinner, 7 days past my due date. While I awaited the promised nesting feelings that would signify imminent labour (which never came), SNH in contrast was in nesting overdrive.
After suffering sympathy pains during my pregnancy, poor SNH was also experiencing nesting transference. Having decided midweek that the backyard (or dog-made dust bowl) needed re-turfing, he and our neighbour/gardener performed a miracle in 3 days and the backyard looks amazing. Then come Saturday morning SNH decided to fix the tap for the hand held shower that had languished broken and unused for about a year. And just for the heck of it – why not change all the other taps in the bathroom while he’s at it? Turning off all the water in the house, SNH spent the day working furiously on installing new spindles and handles (even going so far as turning new parts on the metal lathe). Not content with these activities he also cleaned out his shed, cleaned the bedroom and cooked several meals to put in the freezer.
I, in contrast, spent the day finishing off my quilt and making sure my clients had everything they needed.
One hour after the water was turned back on, I had my ‘show’ . Talk about timing! And two hours later I was in full active labour.
With SNH and Knuckles (our big girl dog) looking after me, I laboured at home all night. Then come morning, deciding I couldn’t do this at home anymore, we jumped in the car and headed for the RPA birth centre.
The plan for the birth was to have a natural, drug-free birth in the birth centre, which is set up like a bedroom and is a lot less hospital-like than the labour ward. I wanted to try a water birth, but I was flexible and ultimately just wanted to have a healthy delivery.
Lucky I was flexible, as 24 hours after I in labour and I was getting very tired and was in a huge amount of pain. Having already tired the bath, heat packs, a little bit of morphine and the (laughing) gas – which was horrible! – to no avail, the lovely midwife suggested it may be time for stronger measures. This was after I had told the midwife the morphine was wearing off, 15 minutes after it had been administered. Upon which, I am told, she and SNH shared a look as I swayed in my poppy-haze, eyes blinking separately.
It was put to me that my labour could be going for who knows how long and my contractions weren’t consistent enough and even though it was not something the birth centre really advocated, it was probably the best thing for me and bub that I be induced.
A few of my friends have had their labours induced and stated that induced contractions were 100 times more painful than regular contractions. Already suffering from terrible back pain (bub’s head was wedged up against my spine) and getting too tired to take the pain, I realised if I was going to be induced, I was going to need an epidural.
Two things I had told SNH I didn’t want: 1. to be induced, 2. an epidural. And it came down that I needed both. In the end, after being wheeled across the hall into the labour ward and being put into the care of another lovely midwife, I just wanted to have the darned baby.
While the rigmarole of getting the epidural was taxing (being stabbed in the arm multiple times by a doctor trying to insert a drip in my hard to find veins; waiting for what seemed eons for the anaesthetist; having to hold incredibly still during horrible contractions while the epidural needle is insert into my spine; having a catheter – ew!) the relief from pain and the couple of hours sleep I gained from it, was incredible.
Both SNH and I were able to get some rest after almost 30 hours of being awake. And when the midwife woke me a few hours later, I felt relaxed, happy and ready.
Thanks to my midwife’s coaching and the huge mirror they wheeled in so I could see what was going on down there, I was able to push baby out on my own (without intervention of forceps or vacuum, which is an increased risk with epidural because you can’t feel anything) and 1 hour after I started, I was holding my little smooshied baby on my chest.
We stayed in hospital for 5 days, while I recovered and while we learnt from the midwives how to care for our bub. I was shocked at how terrible I felt after the birth. My body was so battered and bruised. And my feet and ankles swelled up like the Elephant Man, making it even harder to walk around. It took me many days to feel slightly human and once we got home I started to panic.
My life as I knew it was changed forever.
Sure, it sounds like a stupid thing to think, surely I must have thought about that during the pregnancy. But only when you come home and realise that your sleep is not your own and you now have a new lord and master – all hail baby! – does it become reality.
Thankfully, I have incredible people around me. SNH and my mother have seen me through the last few weeks. With SNH is working 4 days a week until Xmas (giving us a 3 day weekend together). And mum comes around 3 days a week, to help with house work, cuddle baby, keep me company and give me time to have a shower!
We also have an amazingly supportive group of friends, without whom I would feel very alienated. From playmates with other rad mums with little kids, to the occasional phone call to check how I am, I feel connected and like a functioning human.
It also helps that I am getting out of house at least once a day, even if it is just to go for a walk with bub in the stroller. Or up the shops for milk and a wander.
And what of baby? Well I am happy to report that he is the most amazing, dear little soul. Both SNH and I are completely smitten. He has my eyes and his dad’s nose and lips. Along with a full head of hair and hairy ‘werewolf’ ears. He sleeps well at night but only catnaps during the day.
Excitingly we are starting to see the beginnings of a smile during playtime and he is so aware. Looking at everything and taking it all in.
So despite the pain and struggle to get him out and getting used being a new parent, I am in love. And adore my little family.
Baby Archer, 19 days old
Waiting for the stork
I am officially 3 days overdue and officially over it. I had a grizzle to my midwife yesterday and she kindly informed me that the majority of first borns are +7 or +10 days overdue. Gwad help me. We’ve had so many false starts in the last three weeks, plus a preterm labour pains at 34 weeks I was convinced this bub was going to pop out early. Boy, was I wrong.
So while I wait for the stork to arrive, I am finding it increasingly difficult to stay active. SNH is doing his absolute best to keep my shuffling around, however shuffling being the operative word, I am becoming less mobile and walk incredibly slowly (sorry to all the people behind me! I cannot help it.). We’ve tried walking this baby out and a load of other old wives tales but have come to the conclusion that it’ll come out when it’s good and ready, even if it’s mum is an impatient control freak.
So while I sit here and sip raspberry leaf tea (in prep for labour) I thought I would post a few photos of the nursery. It’s shaping up quite nicely. We haven’t crammed it full of stuff (yet) and the shelves are fairly minimal (for us) as we know the room will evolve as baby grows.
Vintage molecule set and essential books
Elephants to carry adventures
Teddy, night light and home crafted golden book bunting
Pirate babushka and pirate book money tin
While fitting out the nursery in the last few months, we struggled to find an appropriate nursing chair. Something that didn’t cost the earth and fit our vintage aesthetic. Who would have thought that was too much of an ask, but apparently it was. The only thing close to what we wanted was a repro Featherston contour chair with a price tag f $1500 (yawza!). So one day after we had given away our old 50s couch/day bed to SNH’s sister, SNH suggested we send the armchairs from the set to a reupholster and use one in baby’s room. Genius!
So from stinky old armchairs that we had hidden in shame they rose like phoenix from the ashes, thanks to Jodi from Maurer & Strange.
BEFORE: stinky old and falling apart
AFTER: Lovely, comfortable and damn good lookin'
Both SNH and I were so impressed by Maurer & Strange, so I want to give Jodi a big plug here. As I dropped the chairs off at her studio there were Parker sets awaiting work and her site shows a lot of mid-century modern reupholstered furniture so I knew we were in good hands. Plus when I picked up the chairs she had her little Staffy dog there and that just sealed the deal (with many Staffy kisses).
So if you need any of your vintage furniture looked after (and I know a lot of you have) I can’t recommend Maurer & Strange enough,
Bump up!
I haven’t updated with a bump photo in a while. Actually we forgot to take a few week’s photos there, ridiculous I know. How hard is it to stand in the front hall and take a snapshot every week? Evidently, as I get bigger and progressively worn down, quite hard.
Actually it’s the remembering that’s the trick. We often visit Addison Rd markets in Marrickville on Sunday mornings, for our veggies, and on our return SNH grabs the camera and takes a bump photo. However as I lumbered into my 3rd trimester I lost the energy and vim of the blessed 2nd trimester and would collapse on the couch after visiting the markets and more often than not, fall a sleep, forgetting all about posterity photographs.
So, below are from 29 weeks until today. You will notice that I have relinquished my vintage wardrobe as the bump gets progressively larger and less inclined to cooperate with unyielding fabrics, zippers and clasps. (And I too seek that most unheard of word for vintage ladies ‘comfort’ in my voluminous state).
oh, yeah and here is a gif of the bump’s progress 
