As a professional blow-in, I’m used to relocating my life. I moved to Galway from the USA as a tween, onwards to Italy after university, landed mid-Celtic Tiger in London and ended up settling in Dublin. New faces and new places don’t phase me but, with age, I found there was one face I wanted to see more of – Cork. After ten years of travelling Leeside for work as a freelance fashion editor and stylist, the city finally made an honest woman out of me. No more one-night stands and mid-week quickies; no more rushed hotel stays or flying visits; this time, I’m in it for the long-haul.
I think I might officially be a local now. Since moving Leeside, I’ve successfully managed to adapt certain proclivities including but not limited to queueing for a KC – in the rain. Any Corkonian worth their salt and vinegar knows that 4:30 bells mark the daily opening of the titular award-winning chipper KC & Sons.
It’s not every day you see Karl Marx at the People’s Park – or Rod Stewart on Patrick’s Quay for that matter. As a relatively new Cork implant, I’ve been spotting the likeness of various people of note spray-painted on the city’s electrical boxes. As a street art dilettante, I’ve been posting these colourful curiosities […]
I never liked Barbie – she was always far too smug and a bit fickle if you ask me. Are you an astronaut or a cheerleader this week? Make your mind up blondie!
That is the $64 question posed by Cool Hunting purveyors – Josh Rubin and Evan Orenstein for Hardy Amies’ fashion vlogs.
I’m an organised soul. Every now and again however, the planets go retrograde and…BAM-O!…my desk looks like an homage to the anti-bin charge brigade.
So, the full extent of the excrement in which we are wading has been officially unveiled. Merry Christmas y’all!
Ho ho bleedin’ ho. It’s budget day. From the whiff of things, it looks like we’ll be revisitng the `80s in all its austere glory.
I glanced in the mirror. A pair of pert knitted boobs stared back at me while a second pair bulged out beneath. This wasn’t the plan.
I’m in a bad mood. Boo! Yes, that’s me being angry. Cross me at your peril. With such indignation abrew, I thought it best to channel my sucky feelings productively, so I took to reading a more sprightly tome on the life of Diana Vreeland. Damn, that chick was positive.