Face Furniture: Present-day perspective and retrospective

If there’s one thing Tutti’s always been known for, it’s her incredible collection of specs. She’s blind as a bat and a certified four-eyes, but wow she makes it look good. She’s always said that if you have to wear glasses, you might as well make them interesting, and as we all know, Tutti has interesting in bucketloads (and then some).

Enjoy this gallery of Tutti’s frames galore.

About 27 years old and rocking the owl eyes.

She even makes the '80s look good. That's me on her knee, less bald, still funny-looking.

She even makes the ’80s look good. That’s me on her knee, now less bald, but no less funny-looking.

Tutti (and the Guru) wearing what I used to call her Dame Edna glasses. People used to look at her like she was an alien when she wore these. She still has them, and they’re still amazing.

Matchy-matchy and resplendent in florals with Christian Dior on her face.

Tres Chic, Tres Tutti.

Beauty personified.

Asymmetry is the new black.

Not actually a cat person. Definitely a diamante person.

Typically silly in MiuMiu frames.

More of the MiuMiu. More is more.

Eye of the tiger (stripe).

Smiles and stares on the stairs.

Smiles and stares on the stairs.

Squares, in circles, in the sun.

Tiger scarf. Thierry Mugler sunnies. Alistair Trung Dress. Cock bag.

Tutti tried these on at an amazing glasses shop in Double Bay called Eye Scene. She looks like an alien in the best possible way.

Tutti bought these Paloma Picasso sunnies at a market in London for almost nothing. Lady Gaga has them too.  

Paloma Picasso again. I too feel that happy when I have a coffee in my hand.

LA Eyeworks in the hallway. 

Do my glasses look big in these? (Karen Walker!)

Drinking coffee, in her cool glasses, in a big hat. As you do.

Drinking coffee, in her cool glasses, in a big hat. As you do.

These glasses are a brand called Slow and Steady Win the Race. Loud and quirky also win the race! Tutti wins the race! I’ve stopped making sense now. Glasses.

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Moments

I had a bit of a ‘moment’ on Friday morning, as I was driving Matty to the station. I’d woken up feeling irritated, sort of grumpy, a bit dissatisfied like when you’re really, really hungry and the only thing that will suffice is a burger and chips, so you go to a restaurant, and when your order comes, it turns out it’s nouvelle cuisine and your burger is  ‘deconstructed’: a few crumbs of dehydrated bread, a sliver of wagyu, a microscopic cube of pickle, and a light sprinkle of microherbs atop an artful smudge of sauce.


“I feel like I haven’t achieved anything,” I said to Matty.

Matty reminded me that indeed I had achieved things – not least in the last seven months: birthed a baby and written and edited not one but two magazines.

I wrote and edited this. The Edition, issue 1.

But that wasn’t quite what I meant. I’m not discounting the fact that I’ve managed to create a gorgeous, flame-haired, mini-human whom I love ferociously, or, that frequently, after putting mini-human to bed at 7pm I work happily on aforementioned magazine until midnight or 1am.

I gave birth to this. Marnie.

It’s more a feeling that I don’t have enough space, at the moment. Space to do the things I’d do if I had more time for myself: regularly updating my blog, for example, or painting again once in a while, or practising the piano so I don’t lose my very limited repertoire completely. I have so many ideas for the children’s books I want to write and illustrate and the jewellery I want to make and the sculptures I want to create – but there’s just no space. Not an inch.

I drew this. ‘Horse on Motorbike’, charcoal on paper

I feel overwhelmed by all the things I need to do: I have so many phone calls to make, to friends I’ve neglected as weeks have turned into months; there are a million clothes to fold and put away, but no matter how much I do, the mountain of mess gets bigger, not smaller. I’m feeling deafened by so much social media screaming for attention: the Instagram narcissists vying for likes, the Facebook braggers and the oh-my-god-you-have-to-click-on-this-or-life-won’t-be-worth-living clickbaits. (I try not to click! But I do, and then I fall headfirst into a meaningless internet vortex).

I painted this. ‘Tutti after chemo’, acrylic on canvas.

I’m exhausted. So exhausted. The baby never sleeps, and when she does, it’s in fits and starts. An hour here. Forty minutes there. She wants to be attached to me all the time. I’ve become a half-adult half-baby hybrid. Exhausted. Exhausted.

Even so, a very wise and dear friend recently reminded me that although life with a small baby can be tough, these are the years I’ll look back on as some of the most beautiful of my life. Just like the pain of childbirth, I’ll forget the crosseyed-with-tiredness delirium and the feeling of being suffocated by unfulfilled ambition.

Instead, I’ll remember how precious it was to have a baby yet unable to speak but so hilariously expressive. Who squeals with arm-flapping excitement when I walk into the room. Who has the juiciest, most kissable cheeks and hands you can’t help but squeeze; so small and pudgy, with dimples where her knuckles should be. I’ll wish I could hold her – as I do now – as her eyes flutter shut and she nuzzles into me like the sweetest, warmest, milk-drunk koala. Even for a moment. You see, the thing about moments is that they’re fleeting. They slip from our grasp and tick-tock away no matter how hard we try to hold onto them. So I know what I have to do. I have to lower my expectations of myself. I have to put down my mobile phone.  I have to be in the moment with my sweet little baby and remember that one day I’ll look back and wish I could be exactly where I am now. Right here.

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A Celebration of Love (and colour)

Tutti, the Guru, Matty, Marnie and I went to a wedding yesterday. It was truly lovely – a celebration of life and love and a brilliant excuse to get dressed up. (Not that one ever truly needs an excuse for that. Wear your best frock to the shops to buy milk, I say. Not that I do. I went out with Marnie the other day looking horrible. “At least put some lipstick on,” said Tutti, kindly ignoring the brooch of baby vomit on my T-shirt and my hair which looked at best like a curly, fluffy hair-nest, just waiting for a sparrow to take up residence.)

Anyway. We did what anyone does at a wedding. We danced and laughed and ate things and cooed over the bride who was wearing a sparkly, almost-60s-style shift dress and looked absolutely divine. In short? We had fun. But then, we almost always do.

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Here I am with my beloved Matty, wearing my Francis Klein glasses, outfit by Et Al Melbourne and flower corsage that I found in Tutti’s wardrobe (score!) Matty’s wearing his beautiful Clifford Gordon jacket that he last wore five years ago when we got married and skinny pants by ML Denim.

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What can I say about Tutti except that she is always a colourful feast for the eyes. I recently bought her that jacket from an op shop in Melbourne for the princely sum of $12 and yet it looks a million bucks.. Love her Miu Miu glasses, Alistair Trung skirt and bright sandals by Django & Juliet.

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Tutti the beauty.

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Giving good shoulder.

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The Guru and Tutti. I had probably just said something HILARIOUS.

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I art directed this shot. “Look romantic,” I said.

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Power pose.

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Even Marnie got in on the action, partying the night away. Well, until 10pm. Which is pretty rock’n’roll for a baby.

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Here are Tutti and Matty standing in front of a chalkboard of random words. #catatonic!

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Looking alert and economic. Apparently.

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The couple of the moment. Nathan and Elly. Wishing them a lifetime of health, happiness, laughter and all good things. It’s a bit of a photographic fail from an iPhone point of view, but you get the gist. They looked gorgeous.

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How to tie a headscarf, Tutti-style

There’s no denying Tutti has amazing hair. It’s as pure in colour as a unicorn’s mane, defies gravity and grows vertically, like the spikes of a snow-white pineapple. But it’s her headwear that has people turning heads. For as long as she can remember she’s been tying all manner of scarves, donning hats and even in the ’80s used to thread scarves around these weird, padded headbands (see pic below, top left) which she still managed to make look fabulous.

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My weekend with Ari Seth Cohen

There’s no denying that social media has helped the world become a whole lot smaller. You can reminisce with strangers, forge virtual, international friendships, connect with anyone no matter how seemingly unattainable or powerful or famous they are.

And so it was, that somehow, I made contact with the inspirational photographer, author and blogger Ari Seth Cohen, whose blog, Advanced Style documents the stylish outfits worn by women over 60, for whom the street is their catwalk.

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Tutti, Ari and Me in Paddington. Photo by instagram.com/pelle4scarpe

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Big Kids

Happy Friday everyone!

Here are a few pictures I took last weekend when Tutti the Guru and I went to the first Mother Artist Network Forum at the Museum of Contemporary Art, hosted by two extraordinarily impressive women, Lilly Blue and Jo Pollitt, who besides having children, day jobs and a million other of life’s bits and bobs to juggle, are also the creators of Big Kids Magazine, inspiring creativity and a passion for the arts in little kidlets (and big kidlets) everywhere. (Phew! That was a long sentence!)

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Whose shoes are whose?

Issue six is out now and you should totally buy it. Why? Because it’s amazing and beautiful and because Lilly and Jo work their butts off to produce it. (I can confirm, they are both 100% butt-less, and it’s all for the love of the magazine).

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This is ISSUE SIX of Big Kids Magazine

Anyway, the Mother Artist Network Forum (which also included mothers-and-artists Emma Magenta and Emma Gale on the panel) was an absolutely fascinating, inspiring discussion about art and motherhood.

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Living, breathing art. Someone should install Tutti and The Guru at the MCA.

For example: What does it mean to be a Mother and an Artist? Is your practice enhanced because of, or despite having children? Are the two inextricably linked, independent of each other, or a little bit of both depending on the day? Is being an artist a luxury? A right? Or essential and unavoidable if you’re inherently creative and passionate about making marks on a page?

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Tutti: Is she a mother, or an artist, or an artwork? Or all of the above?

It certainly brought into focus a whole lot of issues I’ve been thinking about in the lead up to becoming a mother myself – not least how this next chapter of my life is going to manifest creatively…

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Pop art and stripes

After the forum we stayed for the Launch of Big Kids magazine Issue 6 (which, as already mentioned, is utterly brilliant).

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A marriage of multicolour

Then Tutti, the Guru and I did what any sane person would do. We found a colourful floor and lay on it.

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Where does the floor end and Tutti and The Guru begin?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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