I’ve just been in Taipei for the wedding banquet of one of my bestest buddies and am now en route back home to Sydney. After an overnight flight tonight I’ll taxi straight to work and start my Tuesday. I’m going to be bleary eyed and grumpy, but I don’t mind. Before I settled into this uncomfortable seat, I found a Zara and did some shopping. And because modern technology is so magical (WiFi is free here), I can share the spoils of my conquest with you right this second.

I know we’re heading into summer in Sydney, but I just couldn’t resist this angora and cotton jumper. I love a good elbow patch. I’m pretty sure it makes me look more educated. Dr. Grace. When I wear this jumper, people are probably going to think I have a PhD or a talk show.

Sneaky striped raccoons after someone’s acorn stash? Don’t I know it. Bloody thieves.

I dare you to find me anything more majestic than an oversized sweatshirt with a scene of bears roaming through the forest.

In Barcelona, my talent was tested when the Husband and I wandered by the window of a beautiful shop called Lotusse. Even through the glare of the afternoon sun on the window, I could spot the buttery soft leather that only graces the dearest of shoes, and I knew I shouldn’t go in. It had been a very extravagant day of shopping (and a few moments of concern that my suitcase would be overweight), and I’d just vowed not to buy any more stuff. But then the shoes sang their siren song; I was rendered helpless. Here are the enchanting, wee Spanish brogues:

Lotusse has gorgeous shoes, handmade in Spain, and I wish they had an online store, or even just a website, so I could fall in love with more of their shoes and give them more of my money.

The careful hand stitching and lovely craftsmanship makes me imagine an old Spanish shoemaker with a round belly, bent over a long wooden bench in a little village workshop. Most of the day he perches on a stool, working smooth, perfect leather around lasts. Maybe he has a small team of elves to assist, and he passes the shoes off to them to do all the delicate stitching. At lunchtime, when it’s too hot to work, they retire to the cool kitchen of the main house, where the the shoemaker’s wife has laid out a merienda of crusty bread, a rainbow of olives, mild sheep’s milk cheese, a few links of sausage and a hearty red wine. After lunch, they go for siesta, each finding a solitary spot in in the house, and there they nap until the day cools down and it’s time to resume the shoemaking.

Elves and a round-bellied old Spanish man. Those are definitely the people who made my shoes.

Alas, I can’t claim credit for these very clever photos. They’re the handiwork of my lovely friend Xanthe, who is eternally in my good book for helping me organise my apartment last month and more recently, for showing me that the zoom on my camera is not the same thing as the focus. Go figure.

It’s this unwieldy body type that led me to resist buying anything from the Rodarte for Target collection. Rodarte, like Stella McCartney and many others, have collaborated with Target to create an affordable, limited edition collection which is available in stores in the States, and online for us international types.

Living in an Australian time zone gives me the excellent benefit of being awake and alert at 1am NYC time, when these sorts of collections are released online. That means that should I want it, I get first pick of everything.

In preparation for the release, I scoured the internet for images of the clothes and studied the video collaboration done by Tavi from Style Rookie.

I was drawn to the blue Alice in Wonderland dress:

the bow shoulder dress (especially in mustard yellow):

and the sequin ribcage dress:

but not the icky combat boot styling.

When those dresses were finally available, did I immediately whip out my credit card and start spending? No. I crazily decided to think about it. Two hours later, I decided to have a second look, (this was at 3am NYC time, mind you), and what I felt when I got to the “sold out” page for all three dresses was cold REGRET. I learned the hard lesson that the exclusive, limited-edition fashion vampires don’t know the meaning of “I’m going to think about it.” They’re decisive; they strike with quick, fangy accuracy; they stay up all night shopping; and they have my mustard yellow bow shoulder dress. If you were to look at the site now, all you’d find would be a sad wasteland littered with a few leopard print belts in tiny sizes, a bunch of dresses that are only available in stores in Mobile, Alabama and more of that regret stuff.

I hesitated because I worried that my purchases would make their slow way to me in Australia and they wouldn’t fit. I worried that I wouldn’t only feel regret, I’d feel disappointment too. Fueling my worry was a blog post I’d read about a girl who went to the pop-up shop before the online collection was released and bought a medium dress. She said she was normally a size 4 or 6, and a large probably would have fit better, which told me the sizing is a bit off.

Now that I’ve had a few weeks to ponder the mustard-yellow-bow-shoulder-dress-sized hole in my closet, (because I have nothing better to do than lament lost fashion-related opportunities), I’ve come to a conclusion. Can I be honest? I don’t think the Rodarte for Target collection was that great. (One moment while I pause to be tarred and feathered by my fashionable contemporaries). I think the designs are inspired and wonderful and very Rodarte. I love the prints and colours and the interesting twists. But I don’t love what I’ve read on the review sections of the Target site about poor craftsmanship and bad fits. In trying to stick with a lower price point, it seems they had to sacrifice quality.

I was blinded with the swoon-worthy idea I could own something by Rodarte for $50, not $5,000. Now that I’m more clear-headed, I’ve realised that I’m glad I kept my $50. I’ll put it in an interest-bearing sock under my bed so that one day I can buy a real piece by Rodarte.

They’ve got a fab selection of designer party dresses, all for under $300. I dare you to show me a sale as awesome as this in Sydney. I double dog dare you.

The inspiration for this month’s flier is Recessionista Chic: this girl has opted to sell all her clothes in favour of increasing her accessories collection. A couple of strategically placed over-sized necklaces and some pretty underpants and she’s sorted! Well played.

Alas, no beans. I guess these days everyone just goes to the mall for their butchery, bakery and candlestick makery.

Making up for the lack of meat and fresh bread, the Glebe markets are packed with stalls selling cool and sometimes stinky vintage pieces, and lots of this and that from all over. This pretty much sums it up:

I hope when I’m old, someone uses those words to describe me. In preparation, I should start collecting weird hats and wearing too much blush a la Anna Piaggi, (except she is so not obscure).

The sweet smell of almonds and peanuts tossed with sugar in a hot copper pot lures you inside and you can get lost wandering up and down the pathways between stalls, following the sound of the live band and whatever catches your eye.

Noni and Phil at Holy Kitsch supplement their online shop with a market stall selling Dia de los Muertos (All Soul’s Day) knick knackery and Mexican religious iconography, among other things. I picked up the always important Luchador wrestlers. I may send them to my sister as a bribe next time I need a favour.

I love their collection of vintage photos. There are only a few listed on the website, but as you can see, there were boxes full at the market stall.

You could decoupage furniture with these photos, or hang tons on the wall, (as long as your landlord isn’t a gnomey, anally retentive freak who counts the holes in the wall on each quarterly visit).

I love these creepy, colourful skull candleholders and boxes. I wish the skull images were printed on clothes, because really, who wouldn’t want a dress with a big weird smiley skull on it?

A few stalls down, I came upon these two guys who seemed completely disinterested in actually selling anything because they were so enjoying themselves serenading passersby.

They freestyled a song to me about a “Filipina bonita” which pretty much made my day. They insisted I was Latin American, but I’m just one of those clever chameleon people whose parents aimed to diversify the gene pool. As a result I can blend in almost anywhere.

I can’t say I actually liked the stuff in this next stall much. The guy did a lot of denim corset tops sewn to neon rah-rah skirts and weird bomber jackets cobbled together from leather, needlepoint art and more denim which made for strange clothes and an eye-catching display. Unfortunately he didn’t like to share the photo love and grumpily told me I couldn’t take pictures. I snapped this one before he got all uppity and shut my operation down.

IN YOUR FACE grumpy 80s guy.

I realise that I didn’t take that many pictures of clothes at the markets, but that’s because I just can’t get down with the vintage. I’m not one of those people who can search for hours to find the one treasure elusively lurking amongst the old jeans.

But all was not lost: I realised I can take inspiration from the colour stories at the markets. My favourite came from a stall run by a hippie Japanese girl. She was very mellow and edited her display very well. These pastels are not boring. They’re dusty and beautiful:

And I love the wood tones accented with blues and whites from this stall selling handmade picture frames:

After a full afternoon of strolling around by myself, I wandered home, purchases in tow, to take a nap. I’ll tell you all about what I bought another time.

The good people at Urban Outfitters have added this brilliant piece to their offering:

Source: www.urbanoutfitters.com

I think it’s a pretty worthy opponent for the famous Three Wolf Moon t-shirt. (Read the product description on Amazon. Truly genius) Urban Outfitters’ wolf tank’s mystical powers would include: looking stylish in the face of danger, fitting 100 pairs of shoes neatly into a tiny closet and wrangling cheap rent from the landlord by batting fluffy eyelashes in order to secure funds to buy even more shoes.

Petite Boutique is holding another of their monthly sales in Paddington this weekend. They always have loads of lovely tops, dresses, skirts and scarves from the likes of Chanel, Marc Jacobs and Chloe, and nothing ever costs more than $300. Exciting huh?

I never seem to be able to leave these sales empty handed (it’s very easy to trick me into buying a piece of clothing if you make it a pretty colour) . So far my loot from previous sales has included an insane patterned silk dress from See by Chloe, a tangerine ruffly dress from Marc by Marc Jacobs and a Jill Stuart sun dress in pale gold and watercolour style florals which I plan to live in this summer.

Call or email Rebecca (details below) to find out the top secret sale headquarters.

Check out the girl in the picture – her mind is so boggled her shoes don’t even match.

Anyway, to find out what “and more” is and to stock up on those gorgeous signature patent leather round toed shoes with their grosgrain bows, (I have my eye on a red pair that’s in the window of the QVB store right now), here are the deets:

When: October 16-17

Where: Paddington Town Hall, corner Oatley & Oxford Sts, Paddington

Inquiries: 02 9221 3036

Have fun and bring a warm coat for queueing in. This nasty weather we’re having isn’t meant to turn for a few more weeks. How boring.

I really love Incu, but I have mixed feelings about them being involved in launching Topshop in Sydney. I wish the Australian market was considered by the rest of the world to be substantial enough to launch a proper flagship store. I think we deserve it.

I like wandering around Incu, petting all the Marc by Marc Jacobs handbags and chuckling at the witty t-shirts. I think they have a great selection of clothes by fantastic designers and a very edgy, fashionable point of view, but at the same time, they embody the main thing that annoys me about shopping in Sydney: everything is knee-bucklingly expensive. Patchwork Marc by Marc Jacobs handbag that’s $450 on Shopbop? Try $650 at Incu. Why? Apparently it’s delivered here by a band of softly humming angels who fly along on the gentlest of breezes, and when it arrives in Sydney, it’s massaged in truffles and gold dust by unicorns. Give me a break. I just travelled from Canada to Sydney two weeks ago. It took me 26 hours. Don’t tell me 26 hours of travel in a box means that prices should increase by 50%. I’m not a dummy guys, so quit trying to mess with me.

I hope that this partnership will remain true to the Topshop price point. Part of the allure of the Topshop brand is that you can get modern, runway-inspried fashion without needing to rob the ATM outside. C’mon Sydney, give me cool AND affordable for once. I just know you can do it.

I’m especially in love with the little cropped green jacket and beige dress combo in the second picture. I’m afraid if I go inside, I might go on a rampage, snatching everything up and crippling my credit card. Must. Have. Self. Control.

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