Have I lost my love for magazines?

I have been obsessed with magazines my entire life. As a child, I always had my head burrowed in a book or newspaper (there is ample photographic evidence!). But I reserved a special love for magazines. If we visited relatives' houses and I disappeared for any length of time, you'd be sure to find me in a quiet corner with a stack of Woman's Day and New Idea. Total junkie behaviour. I used to offer to "help" my mum do the weekly grocery shopping at Coles and then stand at the checkout and flick through magazines like a deranged speed reader. Her rage for my cheap and cheeky behaviour was palpable! But she fell for my "help" excuse every time. Duh!

When I started a part-time job at age 13, I saved my money for two things: magazines and music. I had a subscription to Rolling Stone, Juice, Dolly, then Cosmo. But my favourite was Who Weekly. I'd walk around to the corner store faithfully every Friday and buy my copy and inhale it like a drug. Celebrities, fashion, gossip. Heaven! And I never threw them out. Ever. But at 18, when I moved out of home, I had to throw my collection out. I'm still not sure I'm over it.

So last week, when my husband and I had a big clean-out of our study to make way for the nursery, the first thing I tackled were the seven or so boxes of magazines sitting like the Tower of Pisa in the corner of the room. Still sitting in removal boxes and unopened. They weighed a tonne. I had back issues of Vanity Fair, GQ, Elle, Marie Claire, Real Living, Vogue, Vogue Living, Esquire, Elle Decor, Belle, In Style, Travel + Leisure, Gourmet Traveller, Wallpaper and Monocle. You name it. I had it. Shockingly, I have moved internationally twice in the last three years, so some of these magazines have lived in Sydney, Singapore and now Shanghai. And most of them have never been opened again since I first read them.

Why oh why do I hoard these 100-page paperweights?  I'm not usually a hoarder. But for some reason, magazines are my achilles heel. I can't throw them out. Ever.

Until now.

This time, I had no problem. I flicked through each and every magazine perusing for articles or recipes or decor ideas that I'd like to tear out and keep. Just in case. But there was nary a pile of clippings to be seen at the end. What has happened to me?! Is my obsession over? Perhaps it is.

This is a shocking turn of events. I have put it down to a number of factors:

1. I have now worked in the magazine industry. I know what goes on behind the curtain.

2. Gossip is so much faster to access on the internet. Why buy Who, People or New Idea when I can read it all on the net FOR FREE on blogs and e-mags?

3. Magazines are verging on inaccessible in China. And they're insanely expensive.

From buying around ten magazines per month, I have now whittled myself down to about two magazines. Two?!!!  Am I insane? How in God's name have I reduced my reading to Vanity Fair and Hello magazine (no judgement: Hello is only CNY30 at my local pirated DVD shop and I buy it a month or two after its publication date. So frugal and retro!).

Looking at it positively: I'm now being budget-conscious, time-efficient and judicious. Looking at it negatively: I've lost my magazine mojo. But never fear: the one time I become a magazine obsessive again is when I fly. Show me an airport newsagent and a plane and I'll show you an empty wallet and a stack of glossy tomes.

But I have reformed: instead of dragging these magazines back from my holiday locale to sit in my apartment unopened again for eternity I am going to do a shocking thing. Leave them behind. Or, shock horror, throw them in the hotel bin. My 13-year-old self would be horrified! But my 34-year-old self feels evolved and very, very free.

On that note, I'm off to bed with my "new" old copy of Hello. You'll find it in the bin in the morning. Victory!

I wish I was in Sydney right now

I'm pretty jealous of my Sydney friends at the moment. The Sydney Festival starts tomorrow and there are quite a few great acts on the events listings. Manu Chao, Mike Patton, The Whitest Boy Alive and Lambchop are playing shows in the next few weeks. So jealous!!!!

The Sydney Festival always seems to pull some great acts. I saw two of the best concerts ever at the Festival. In 2005 when the Leonard Cohen tribute show "Came So Far For Beauty" played at the Opera House. Nick Cave, Rufus Wainwright, Jarvis Cocker, Antony, Beth Orton and others sang Cohen tunes. Truly amazing. And in 2008 when Bjork played a show in the Opera House forecourt.

Anyway, back to Manu Chao. In 2001, I travelled around Europe for a summer with some friends. We'd bought an old van in London and after catching a ferry to Bilbao,we drove for three months through Spain, France, Italy, Greece, Slovenia, Slovakia, Austria, Czech Republic and Germany. It was a fantastic way to spend a summer. And the soundtrack to our journey was Manu Chao's Proxima Estacion: Esperanza. It was all over the radio and I just fell in love with his mish-mash sound.

And Mike Patton. Well he's a dude. As a teenager, I fanatically loved him in Faith No More. Kinda got into him with Mr Bungle. Totally loved his work on Bjork's Medulla album. It's kinda crazy to think he's gone from growling and screaming metal then to crooning Italian pop music on Mondo Cane now. I must admit I downloaded that album last year but still need to give it a proper listen. I'm still stuck in my love for the '90s-era Patton. King for a Day... Fool for a Lifetime is still one of my favourite albums of all time. But mostly I just love his propensity for DRAMA. He always brings some bravado and crazy eyes. Love it.

Vocally, he has serious range. From this...

...To this (which will be his Sydney Festival persona):

And I love this clip from a few years back where he rips into Wolfmother. "Can I get an Amen?"

RIP Heavy D

Sad news. Heavy D died overnight in LA.  He was only 44.

I absolutely LOOOOOVED his song "Now That We Found Love" so much when it was on the charts. Well, it was 1991 and I was 14.

I just re-watched this video and so many memories came rushing back. Mainly about how I thought I knew the lyrics at the time. Obviously not! I just looked them up. Check them out in full here. Man, they're hilarious. And clearly I had no idea what I was singing about. The opening lyrics should have given me an idea:

One two, tell me what you got

Let me slip my quarters inside your slot to hit the jackpot

Rev me up rev me up

My little buttercup

We can tug sheets snuggle up and get stuck

RIP Heavy D. Thanks for the memories.

When life hands you lemons...

So I was chatting today with Mum about what recipes she's thinking about. Here's what she said...


“It’s citrus season in Australia at the moment, and my first thought is to make a Lemon Delicious, a kind of self-saucing soufflé. One of the cooks in the hotel I grew up in used to make it for us. I love it because it’s a lovely dessert if you have a heavier meal because it’s very light and you don’t feel full but it has the beautiful tang of the lemons in it.”

Lemon Delicious
“This recipe is from a book called French and Gourmet Cooking which was given to my by a girl I worked with in Sydney as a wedding gift. I double the recipe and make a big pudding in a very large glass soufflé dish because people always want more. A clear glass bowl looks best (make sure it’s tempered) as you can see the separation of the layers. Or you could make individual puddings in ramekins.”

3 eggs separated
6 oz caster sugar (scant cup)
2 tbsp plain flour
Grated rind and juice of 2 lemons
Pinch of salt
Tbsp of dessicated coconut
Extra sugar (dessert spoon)
½ pint of milk (1 ¼ cups)

Beat the egg yolks and sugar together in a beater until light and fluffy. Then beat in the flour, milk, lemon rind, juice and salt. In a separate bowl, beat egg whites stiffly and whisk in two ounces of extra sugar (to make a meringue-style mix). Fold into the lemon mixture with coconut. Turn mixture into a casserole dish (I prefer a tempered glass soufflé dish) and set into a pan of warm water about half way up the dish. Bake for one hour at 350 fahrenheit (175 celsius). This pudding is delicious served with fresh cream.

Preserved Lemons
“Clean and sterilise jars. Cut lemons into quarters but don’t break the bottom (so it opens out like a petal) and stuff it with rock salt (I like Maldon) and pop into the jar. Squeeze some other lemons and put lemon juice into the quarterized lemon. Down the sides squash sprigs of rosemary, peppercorns, star anise, a clove, thyme, whatever you like. Top up the jar with hot water and seal tightly. Put it into the cupboard to preserve. It will take a good few weeks for all that salt to dissolve. When it’s ready, pull the quarter lemon out and take the pulp out with a spoon and discard that. When it’s ready, put it in the fridge. It should keep for about three months. Then you just shred the preserved lemon skin as you need it. It’s perfect in a chicken tagine, lamb cutlets, Moroccan-style salads, whatever you like.”

Other ideas for lemons:

“I always put a lemon in the cavity of a chicken when roasting. And I squeeze it all over the skin and vegetables to give it more flavour as it roasts.”

“If you ever see lemon myrtle olive oil, buy it. It’s delicious and adds flavour to stir fries, salads, chicken dishes, pasta. It’s beautiful.”

“And don’t forget a slice of lemon in your daily gin & tonic!”


Her last comment reminds me of a tea towel I saw on Etsy last year. A great motto for life, really.

Copyright: Dear Colleen http://www.etsy.com/people/dearcolleen?ref=ls_profile

Something to remember

When you're four you need your mum more than anybody; when you're 14 you're too cool to talk to your mum; when you're 24 you're too busy partying or travelling to call your mum; and when you're 34, you need your mum more than you ever thought.

Eleven years ago, my mum was diagnosed with breast cancer. Five years later, after radiation, chemotherapy and eostrogen-supressing drugs, it returned to her breast and lymph glands. Cue surgery, more chemo and more drugs. Another five years later -- last August -- it returned again, but this time it had spread to her bones in her pelvis and spine. Stage IV terminal cancer.

It's the phone call you never want to hear, particularly when you're living overseas. It's hard to put into words how devastating this has been for our family, particularly as mum is still only in her early sixties. These are important years for my mum and for our growing family. When we heard the diagnosis last August, I was living in Singapore, my middle sister was half way through her first pregnancy and my youngest sister was planning her wedding. One month later and three days after her first round of chemo, my sister got married. Five months later, my mum held her first grandchild. Almost ten months later, and she's still fighting hard. It goes without saying, she's the toughest person I know.

I have been unsure whether to talk about this on my blog, but it is such a big part of my life that it has felt strange not to acknowledge it. I pride myself on my optimism, but I have to admit, it's been a tough year. When I'm not gallivanting around Asia or throwing sarcastic jibes at celebrities on my blog, I have been travelling back and forth to Australia. It's been exhausting and emotional and it's played havoc with my career and my absence has been very tough on my husband. But it's also been very rewarding. In many ways I feel lucky to have spent such special time with my mum and family. It's time that I may not otherwise have spent with them. It's given me a huge dose of perspective.

This morning, I read an interesting article on the New York Times (you can read it here) about what to say to someone who's sick, written (helpfully) by someone who was sick. Although I can't speak for my mum about whether she agrees with the author's thoughts, one point did stick with me.

"One surefire tip: a slight change of topic goes a long way. Patients are often sick of talking about their illness. We have to do that with our doctors, nurses and insurance henchmen. By all means, follow the lead of the individual, but sometimes ignoring the elephant in the room is just the right medicine."

So in the interests of embracing the elephant in the room and promptly ignoring it, I'd like to post every so often some of the conversations I have with my mum: her favourite recipes (she's an amazing cook), tidbits of info, wisdom, tips. Nothing maudlin and depressing, just things I think are worth sharing and which I want to remember. And don't fear. I inherited my critical voice from somewhere. Just this afternoon she told me "That Angelina is a hussy". I am proudly my mother's daughter.

Childhood (and childish) memories

I don't know why I thought of this scene today, but I did. And I just looked it up on YouTube (how did I live before this website existed?) and totally lost it.  It always makes me howl with laughter.  Chevy Chase playing the flamenco guitar in Three Amigos!

So, I've decided I'm now going to post my favourite old clips every now and again.  Gotta keep the '80s and '90s alive!  Keep an eye out.