Long hair life

Do anything you want with your hair. Grow it out, cut it short, dye it, curl it, straighten it. Whatever.

I feel most myself with hair that tickles the small of my back. Hair that only needs a bi-annual cut. I like to feel it soft curling around my neck, a portable scarf against the cold, or a portable cushion on long hauls. Winding around my head in snaking braids. Pushed back by the summer wind like a lover’s touch. It takes at least three hours to dry. Black as midnight, heavy as sun, soft as a pillow. Hair that hides and reveals. Metal dudes, hippies, models, bikers, medieval princesses, surfies, Jesus freaks, cult members, Amish chicks, vikings… fellow long hairs, I salute you.

Two or three things.

1. Milkmaid braids. There is a fine line between "free spirit" and "cult member who can't cut their hair for religious reasons", and I think I just crossed it. Milkmaid braids are easy, cute and the go-to for when your lengthy hairs are just too...lengthy. Ahem.

2. Home. "Of all modern notions, the worst is this: that domesticity is dull. Inside the home, they say, is dead decorum and routine; outside is adventure and variety. But the truth is that the home is the only place of liberty, the only spot on earth where a man (sic) can alter arrangements suddenly, make an experiment or indulge in a whim. The home is not the one tame place in a world of adventure; it is the one wild place in a world of rules and set tasks." - G. K. Chesterton

3. Hellos, and goodbyes. That diem isn't going to carpe itself, but it's the compromise of a life full-lived to let things go, even as you open your arms to welcome something else.

Click, wind, repeat X 24

I'm not used to being on the other side of the interview equation. But my excellent friend Nadia interviewed me, and the baben' Nicole took a photo of me, and before I knew it I was profiled in Attitude magazine. Fun was had all round. And yes, my face *is* actually a camera.

Adl - Mel

Coffee. Lovely people. Coffee. Beer. Bacon. Coffee.

Taken with Smena 8M.

Smena ♥

{Click for full size}

I recently took three of my vintage cameras out for a date - and it was instant chemistry with Smena. She's cute and light and easygoing, a little bit unpredictable; without the sturdy reliability of Fed (whom I also loved) or the industrial functionality of Zorki (who was also awesome... I'm such a camera flousy!). Perfect for a summer romance - I especially liked these shots of Adelaide beaches on the brink of summer thunderstorms.

The Soviet Six.

I'm extremely lucky to have some wonderful, generous people in my life: but hey you don't want to read about that, what? It's all gush gush gush and love-ins. No one needs that. Maybe you'd prefer to read about SIX FREAKING AMAZING 1960S RUSSIAN CAMERAS, then?

Oh ok. Well I was recently given not one, not even two, but SIX amazingly beautiful. amazingly old-school, amazingly Russian cameras from a certain amazing bearded gent who is one of the generous people I referred to - cue squeals aplenty! And before you ask: no, I have no idea how to use them on multiple fronts, linguistic and technical. BUT I SHALL LEARN. OH YES I SHALL.

They have a pleasant weight to them and a few of them feature well-worn finishes... I can't help but wonder who used them and what they've shot in their past lives. Check 'em out:

Flexarel Automat. Sounds like the coolest coin laundry of all time. Is actually rad cam.

Sokol (which means "falcon" is Russian, and which I am therefore nicknaming Mordecai)

Zorki

Fed 3

Beirette is actually German but defected to the Soviet Union for the purposes of retaining the post title. 

Smena

Can't wait to get these babies loaded up with film and start testing them out. I'm kinda tempted to use them all at once, with six camera straps around my neck and/ or a camera pack mule. This may prove impractical though. Stay tuned for both a report on the mule front as well as my first pics from each camera. If you've ever used ay of these guys before, hit me up with tips!  

The Figaro! 

Have devised new life plan:
1. Get driving license
2. Buy NISSAN FIGARO*
3. Obtain Alan Rickman-voiced GPS**

* I have never been smitten or even semi-interested in cars until I saw this baby zooming its little heart out all over London. The Figaro was a limited-edition 2-door designed by Shoji Takahashi and released by niche arm of Nissan in Japan in 1989 - under the slogan "Back to the Future" (the levels of rad just keep on piling up). Conceived as a kind of British, vintage coupe throwback, I actually assumed it was a late '60s model at first: but it backs up the retro stylings with AC, white leather seats, CD player and an open roof. The words hells and yeah spring to mind. According to the Googles, only four colours were produced: Topaz Mist, Emerald Green, Pale Aqua and Lapis Grey - each symbolising a season of the year (I mentioned it was made in Japan, right?)

For those of you interested, I also came across this super weird Japanese "making of" video. From the dude in Wayfarers to the weird '90s synth music, I kinda feel like I'm watching a hipster Mr Sparkle. One day I plan to write a novel about what I think is actually going on.

Anyway, I have a metric ton of sweet love for The Figaro...pity it's not a metric ton of cash. EXAGGERATED SIGH.

**This actually exists you guys!

More infos on Le Figaro at the Wikis. 
Top pic: paul (england) on Flickr
Bottom pic: Charles Briand on Flickr

Paris in Autumn

A few things I loved:

1. Morning light through the window

2. The food… oh, the food. Laduree, escargot, fries with everything, beignets, macarons, patisseries, steaks, cheese.

3. The big stuff. If there is one thing the French know how to do – it’s huge, awe-inspiring monuments. Scale is everything – yet the overall effect is somehow subtle rather than intimidating.

4. Warm spiced red wine in the Tuileries. Perfection. We were also given free cookies by some American dude – I know it’s like Abduction Avoidance 101 to not eat free candy from strangers but we’re OK so maybe that moral needs re-looking at.

5. Colette. Pretty people, pretty stuff.

6. Hanging out with Jess, who rules. She likes: bolied eggs, obscene hats and giving herself DIY haircuts without telling anyone. Here’s our homage to Sartorialist-style Tulieries shots.

7. NIGHTCRUISE. Down the Seine! My face froze and I think it was singlehandedly responsible for my post-Paris mega cold but I stand by it.

8. The Montparnasse Cemetery. Not creepy at all. A quiet, relatively tourist-free zone, peaceful, crisp and still. We spent about 793 hours looking for Man Ray and Brassai – and Serge Gainsbourg’s spot made me smile.

9. Just everything.

Here are things about Paris no one tells you:

1. The coffee is terrible. Just, really really bad. And I thought London sucked! Starbucks is actually your best option most of the time and I don’t say that lightly. The only good cup we had was at a vaguely Australian-themed café Kooka Boora thanks to an insider tip from the ever-so-helpful Ben. Otherwise it was fairly, by which I mean totally, undrinkable.

2. Hotdogs have two sausages!

3. People stare at you. I mean, really eyeball you – and shamelessly. ESPECIALLY on the metro, but pretty much everywhere. The thing is: you have no idea if it’s good or bad, because the French, their faces are made to keep secrets! Judgemental secrets! Or secret admiration! Who the fuck knows.

4. They like speaking English.

5. I’m pretty sure if a bar has a blue light that means it’s a gay bar. I might be wrong here, can anyone confirm or deny?

6. Opening hours are suggestions only. You can pretty safely ignore them. People seem to open and close their businesses as and when they want; which sounds haughty, and maybe it is, but I can dig it.