Jess’s new favourite thing to do is see how underdressed I can be for a basic trip to Woolies. About six months ago I moved to a new house that is less than a 5 minute walk to our neighbourhood shopping centre. It’s amazing. When I decide I want a footlong cardboard vegie patty Subway, or a creamy rockmelon juice, or maybe some novelty children’s stationery from K-Mart, I just need to walk 200 metres and the retail world is pretty much my oyster.
The thing is, it’s so easy to get there and back that it hardly seems worth bitching yourself up for nothing. It’s not like when I was younger and my local shopping centre was Bondi Junction and in order not to anger the Evil Ghouls of Westfield Both Past and Present, I had to put on nice shoes without holes in the bottom, and lip balm, and maybe a top that showed lots of cleave.
BITCH YOU GOT IT ALL WRONGGG
But now that I live in the Marrickville precinct, things changed. There are so many trendy hipster bitches around me that my fashion choices look ironic and hilarious.
A knitted beret with clumps of hair sticking out of the holes? A comment on gaps in the Medicare safety net.
Old saggy waterproof tracksuit pants? A feminist statement about the importance of gender neutrality.
A mustard coloured oversize woollen jumper that I’ve been wearing all weekend and am still wearing right now, that has a big chunk of toothpaste on it? Well…that’s just feral I guess.
Ok, so I don’t actually know what that means, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that Would Jess Like It is chomping at the bit, straining at the leash, flapping its poo-crusted feathers, nosing its way out of the butterfly net that is ‘a comfortable home on the internet and a recently acquired DOMAIN NAME’. Because Would Jess Like It is now reaching other platforms. Well, just one other platform.
The radio, my friends.
You'll need one of these from your local electronics stores.
The lovely Emma and Hayley from 2SER’s breakfast radio have asked me to present a 5-minute spot each Monday at 7.30am, where I outline all the things I like and don’t like. Since there’s no lasting electronic copy of what I say (apart from in the intel-gramophone), I can bitch a LOT more about Westfield and my working life.
Tune in at 107.3FM, or stream it here.
I will post any highlights online for you chumps who don’t like waking up early.
Ok, this is pretty obvious. If you’ve spent more than 20 minutes with me, you know this is a ‘Hot’. But can I just say?
This is not just for people of my dogthusiasm.
Dog parks at prime time are the best. Prime time is obviously at around 4-6pm, when all the dog owners in your neighbourhood have finished school or work or maybe a productive day of freelance playwriting/online-handbag-shopping. All the dog-walkers and dog-stalkers spill out of their respective homes, grabbing their pooch and leash, or their anti-hyperventilation enthusiasm bags. We amble towards the nearest park. The sun is setting between the trees. When you huff up a hill past the homeless guy laughing at you and look at the view of the afternoon sun over the city, it’s pretty magnificent.
But there’s something more magnificent behind you.
Schnauzer al fresco.
Dogs, dogs, everywhere, and you are a FREE MOTHERFLIPPING AGENT TO DRINK THEM. You have no dog of your own ever since the traumatic episode of November 2010 that we don’t talk about on this blog. While this realisation fills you with jagged holes of Schnauzer-shaped despair, there’s one silver lining to being dogless in a dog park:
You are free to go “dog-surfing”, without having to keep an eye on that beloved “surfboard” you keep tied to your wrist (the one that keeps trying to dart away into the horizon and hump a vulnerable boogie board).
And can I tell you? The surf is great.
Today in Sydney Park I saw a beagle, a poodle, a labradoodle, a cavoodle, a spaniel, a German Shepherd, a staffy, a bichon frise, and those are just the ones I remember WITHOUT A NOTEPAD. There were so many dogs, and because I was footloose and fancy-free without a beloved “surfboard” of my own, I could talk to ALL of them, while artfully ignoring their owners, and make conversation with them along the lines of “YOU’RE A SCHNAUZER!” and “YES YOU ARE!” without any need to keep an “eye on the tide”.
That said, dog parks are definitely more fun with a dog in tow. Like life generally.
SURF ON IN HEAVEN, MY LIL BOOGIE BOARD
Hats are a big deal right now. Hats are all over the place. Hats have become the salt and pepper that flavourises the bland snacking gruel we like to call “conversations at the water cooler”. Because of the Day of Royal Happiness and Official Sanctioned Joy, hats are totally blowing your and my minds right now. Big time.
Check out how much this hat makes me feel like a woman.
What do you think about hats? Do you enjoy the way a good brim can shade your thin sensitive nose skin on a hot day? Do you enjoy the way a sassy pom-pom’d beanie can tell fellow Winter-sufferers that you are way into the colour pink and not afraid which of your colleagues know it? Do you enjoy the way a feather tucked into your hat-band can tell people in the country that you are One of Them, you will hang in their bars and drink their beers and share their women, if it comes to that?
Well, I guess hats are pretty good then. They’re a way of fitting in, in all types of places, especially ones with a specific hat-related guest code. They can be decorated in all sorts of colours, and all sorts of wonderful styles including Bucket. They can be emblazoned with your favourite holiday destination, political cause or blog slogan. I know that I wear my Would Jess Like It fedora to only the best funerals.
Brim away, my friends. I have absolutely no problem with hats.