good for nothing

I am not of the best health at the moment. I have a vitamin b and possibly iron deficiency. I know this because I have angular cheilitis. This self-diagnosis has been informed by advice from various friends and colleagues, and at least an hour or so on the internet. Angular cheilitis, it turns out, is what they call the terribly annoying and persistent cuts that can develop in the corner of one's mouth. They are PAINFUL and DISGUSTING and do. not. heal. They aren't cold sores but they may as well be, they are equally as GROSS and render one equally as unlikely to ever be kissed again in their LIFE. They also make it difficult to laugh, yawn, brush one's teeth, and eat anything larger than a grape, or anything on a fork.

So there've been a range of suggestions about what might have caused the face wounds, and after two weeks of no apparent improvements (in fact it got worse, double bad) the common theme I'm hearing is vitamin b. I actually spoke to a real pharmacist about this, they're the free version of a doctor, or at least slightly more informed than me after a dr google consultation. Admittedly the pharmacist I spoke to was working at chemist warehouse (the only place I buy my drugs) but they agreed with my self assessment and the ego boost was enough to send me away with a bottle of some super ultra multi B complex pills. Never have been much of a supplement taker though, and I am now sitting here munching on salmon, broccoli, asparagus, mushrooms, leafy greens, beetroot, brussel sprouts and brown rice, trying to work out how I can possibly incorporate millet, wheat germ and beef livers into my diet as well... I am an easily sold hypochondriac.

dreamy

I've been having the strangest, most vivid dreams recently. It's probably the seasons changing or something. Unfortunately for most people around, I've been compelled to share them with whoever I can, in person, on facebook, and yay now with you. You're welcome.

Not really, it's too late in the evening to write anything compelling about something that occured in my own subconscious over 12 hours ago. But here are a bunch of pictures that somehow fit into the bizarreness and loveliness of this whole scenario, as I seem to have begun to mush all the recent dreams into an ongoing state of being that I'm having a hard time pulling myself out of when awake.

A few tidbits: model planes made of chickpeas and rainbow garlic // b grade celebrity look alikes mouthing silently along with gangster rap for hours // sleeping in a hat on a couch at a party // straw // forests // grey skies // warm hands, cold weather // that's all.

champ fest

Wa-hey, Champ Press Creators Supplement showed up in my mailbox last night and isn't it delightful!



A lovely little thing printed on a beautiful old press, here in Melbourne, this journal is full of pictures and words from some of the most inspirational people creating around the world. Editors from Apartamento and Monocle (my two actual favourite bits of print), designers from Tokyo, Berlin and London, I'm excited to actually sit down and read it all.

You can buy the supplement, and Ala Champfest the magazine at a bunch of shops around Melbourne and the world, and online, have a look at the website for stockists.


I took these photos on my phone.

knit picks

see what I did there?

I would be so happy if all of my friends wore these all of the time, including me.

I am obsessed with All Knitwear, ever since I saw it in a shop on Gertrude Street that was shut every time I walked past. Admittedly I only walked past at night, until about two months ago when I walked past in the middle of the day, and it was open. I went in and found that these sweaters and minis and scarves are even better in person than through the window/online. The shop is called Dagmar Rousset and is full of really great things. Please go there if you are in Melbourne. You could even get french lessons there if you wanted, which you should.

If you're in Auckland, which I think a few of you are, All Knitwear is stocked at Douglas + Bec in St Mary's Bay, a shop which I don't think existed when I lived there.