Autumn brings a cool relief from the casualness of summer with a gentle introduction of chill before the bitterness of winter. With the changing of the leaves and cool breeze now in the air, the jacket becomes my most coveted wardrobe item.
I love the gift of time - the idea of sharing an experience with someone in lieu of giving some tolken gift for the sake of it.
In an era where we are all so time poor, spending time seems like the ultimate indulgence. So when Mr Couture's birthday rolled around, I spent much time considering what might be a great birthday present. It was agony. I didn't know how I was going to live up to last year's ultimate present (a week at the Gold Coast and a QLD State of Origin 40 years anniversary jersey) and was cursing myself for present peaking too early.
Then it came to me. Time. We spent the birthday indulging in a long, leisurely and delicious lunch, and enjoying a very, very good bottle of scotch whiskey.
I was surprised to learn, as a newlywed, that football would take over so much of my weekend. I didn’t know that Mr Couture even liked football! Sure, in the past he had shown a knowledge about the big ticket games, but I had no idea of the depth to which his interest lied - nor the impact football season would have on our winter.
You see, while dating our life revolved around going out: fine dining... long lunches... weekends away... whiling an afternoon away in a park with a picnic and the newspaper... And during all this, I can't remember the conversation ever turning to football. Now that I think about it, was it possible that I wasn't always listening properly?
Looking back now, I can see that our early times together were probably scheduled around match fixtures. And it is probable that he had exhausted any footy-related conversation with other enthusiasts before morphing into a suitable date and coming out with me.
It wasn’t until coming home as a new bride that I realised the extent of his interest. I was sent interstate by work to attend the first Indigenous v NRL allstars match and ditched the tickets to spend time with my best girl. Shocked that I wouldn't want to attend the match on our behalf, the look of hurt and betrayal in his face made me understand - this man was a serious fan.
So while all the single people are out enjoying their Friday nights in trendy bars and fine dining restaurants, I’ll be learning to love some time at home with the footy. But just some time. (Go Cowboys!)
After much encouraging from various people at work, I decided to give this Aldi thing a go. At first it seemed like a magical land where crazy cheap cereals sat next to mountain bikes and discount cheese next to tea towels. Sure it's set up weird, but I was on an adventure and I was prepared to expect the unexpected.
I felt like I was participating in an adventure sport and I set about trying to defend my neatly packed trolley. It all came undone at the check out, but I managed to salvage things on the pack-your-own-bags bench and left feeling like I’d saved hundreds. For days afterwards I was retelling the story to my friends, claiming that everything was “two dollars something”. It certainly seemed to be. I was happy and considered myself victorious in the Aldi battle; widely claiming to all who would listen that they “had to try it” and defending my cheap-skate position.
Then came the taste test. Throughout the week, each new strangely branded package got a review worthy of Gourmet Traveller. At first I thought everything was a hit (perhaps still rejoicing from the $2 something high), but as the week rolled on my muesli seemed more like chaff than oats. Even still, I’m excited about what the next shop will uncover and look forward to filling my trolley with all sorts of crazy items. In tracks of course J.
It was pointed out to me, by the ever fashionably helpful Mr Couture, that my new ladylike rock image might be a far stretch - it seems that ‘rock’ means very different things to us both. For me, I thought I nailed it as I was leaving for work this morning in a silk shirt with a neck tie, slim black pants and a pair of gladiator heals. Mr Couture thought a gold glitter cat suit would be closer to the mark. Hmmm...
I don’t really care about award nights. I’m sure it’s nice for all those involved in making movies to be recognised for their efforts, but for me it’s all about the red carpet.
Sandra Bullock showed them how it was done in a beautiful strapless red Vera Wang dress, and my favourite look was worn by Scarlett Johansson. I hear she got a panning in some reviews, but I thought she looked original and elegant in her raspberry Dolce & Gabbana lace gown – and I love the messy bob.
I might try and work a bit lace into my A/W11 wardrobe. A quick google led me to this D&G sheer black lace top. I like it worked in with a suit (shown here with one from Antonio Beradi). So very ladylike rock.