The Light of God and Girls

How-To For Homies (Without a Hint of Sarcasm)

2011-11-23T22:09:00.000-08:00

Now I'm going to write a post for all who care out there, homies, blog-lovers, curious internet audience members, accidental by-standers and aspiring models, whereby I run through a a detailed and thorough list of my beauty and exercise routine and my diet aka. every seemingly insignificant morsel of food I do (or don't) put in my mouth. Because obviously, if we all just follow the same mathematically specific set of rules we'll all get the exact same outcome right?! Yay!
And then, if I have time, I'm going to post photos of myself wearing clothes that my income has allowed me to purchase and/or been given to me for free by various fashion people or in exchange for work. That way, I'll show you how to wear them, and then you buy them, and you 'get the look' as they say, get it? 'Get it'? Woot!
Okay, so i'm starting this entry right now...
Wait, no i'm not. Sorry.
I'm going to go do something rad instead.*

*(Did you find the real answer in there? The one devoid of sarcasm? Good.)

You Know, Everybody Here Wants You

2011-09-03T05:54:00.000-07:00

Oh no I'm doing things like lying in bed at non-bedtime hours, listening to music and painting my nails with a whimsical look on my face, i'm sure, and singing lots. God,why can't I stop singing?! I smile at stupid things and little details make my heart race. I don't mind living in my mind or pressing replay at all. Im fine with that. This is going to end up both very good and very bad, or possibly nothing at all, but boy would nothing be the best and worst of it.

Diet Tiah

2011-06-16T00:01:00.000-07:00

I gave in and started a twitter account. Which is good I guess, apparently I'm easier to handle in tiny bite-size pieces.
Diet Tiah, fewer-calories-but-still-all-the-same-flavour Tiah, Tiah in moderation. Go on follow... you know you want to.

55

2011-06-10T02:26:00.000-07:00

I don’t want to be 16, 18 or 21 years old EVER AGAIN
I don’t want to be a SIZE SIX
I don’t want to hear that I ‘can’t wear’ anything that doesn’t require a bra
(Btw, I REALLY like bras)

I don’t want to be a FUCKING BLONDE!!!

I don’t want to pretend to be vegan/gluten-free/wheat-intolerant/‘only organic’
I don’t want CIGARETTES for BREAKFAST
I don’t want to only be as good as whom I’m photographed with at stupid parties
where everyone’s just killing themselves slowly anyway, and pretending they weren’t picked on at school
or even worse: pretending that they were
“Everyone was just so JEALOUS of me because I was so TALL and so THIN and it was just REALLY, REALLY HARD, y’know?”

I don’t want my career to suffer because I refuse to use my VAGINA as CURRENCY
I don’t want to bite my tongue when someone says something personally offensive TO MY FACE (or ABOUT my face)
I don't want it to sound like I'm suffering delayed teenage angst just because I think what is expected of me, my friends, my job, is fucked. up.

I WANT TO BE A WOMAN!!!
(Just like I always wanted to be when I grew up)
and I want you to be okay with that.

And if you say “So go get a different job”
I say “Why should I have to change, when I’m not the one fucking up half the population with the idea that being a hungry, poisoned, perpetual girl-child is only way to be attractive?”
or hell, just look nice in some expensive clothes

Oh, and did I mention

I DON’T WANT TO BE A FUCKING BLONDE!!!!!!!!!!?!

Such n' Such

2011-06-07T14:50:00.000-07:00

Still amazed that such a perfect, angelic, incredible creature could be the product of such a fun activity with such an awesome person. Aaaaaaaaaaahhh!!!!!!

*sighs for days*

invasionofthebodysnatchers

2011-05-02T05:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it's better to chemically lobotimise than be a big, pulsating, tangled mess of hope, rage, lust and social discomfort.

And If You Complain Once More...

2011-04-10T04:24:00.000-07:00

Mad Girl's Lovesong

2011-04-05T05:39:00.000-07:00

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

- Sylvia Plath

-

2011-04-02T16:53:00.000-07:00

Fashion is not art. Fashion is advertising and advertising is money. And for every dollar you earn, someone has to pay.

Gold

2011-03-21T17:17:00.003-07:00

I don't know where or how my friend Amy found this, but I think it's the best thing I've seen all year. It's like every guy I've ever dated either wrote or read this.

Show us ya' ink!

2011-03-20T21:09:00.000-07:00

Inked magazine approached Patrick and I to do a cover story on our tattoos for their current issue- so flattered! Jason Ierace took the incredible Moulin Rouge-inspired photos and sweetheart Vanessa Morgan did the following interview that accompanied. x

A model life… Tiah
While she certainly didn't lose out in the genetic lottery, Tiah Eckhardt proves beauty need not only be skin deep. She carries a smile as she and her husband, Patrick Delaney, watch their one-year-old daughter playing at a shoot. Born in Perth, Tiah's face and body have been the focus of numerous photographic campaigns, but often concealed are her tattoos: the cherries behind her ear, the pinup girl on her leg, and the delicately painted nickname on her wrist which translates to 'non-conventional beauty'.
Inked: Is there a part of you that is still that 14-year-old girl that started modelling in Perth?
Tiah: No, I don't think so. I mean, my personal life, my family, where I'm from, that will never change. But I think I'm an entirely different person to the one I would be if I hadn't modelled. Sometimes I think maybe I'd be saner and more secure, but I can't help but be grateful for everything my career has given me. On top of travelling and earning a living, I think I'm a much stronger person because of it. I have thicker skin, and I can put things to do with self-image - something I think all women deal with - into greater perspective.
Tell us about your first tattoo - what was it and where did you get it done? The first tattoo I had done was the 'Belle-Laide' on my wrist. Someone used it to describe me and I identified, so it kind of stuck in my head and eventually I decided to get it tattooed. That and the pinup girl on my ankle were done at Tatudharma in Chippendale.
I read that when you and Patrick first met at a shoot, you didn't get along. Is that true? It's not that we didn't get along, it's that we didn't even speak! I had a boyfriend at the time and just didn't even look at other guys, especially male models. I never normally get put with a guy on shoots so I was kind of uncomfortable. And Patrick had been chatting about metal bands to my boyfriend who had brought me McDonalds and hung around for a while. I don't think either of us were comfortable being forced to act all sexy together. Anyway, two years later when I was living in New York he came up to me in a bar, spent half an hour trying to convince me we'd actually met before, and then I remembered and it turned out we had heaps of mutual acquaintances and even lived on the same street, two blocks apart. We pretty much moved in together straight away after that.
Are the two of you competitive? No, not competitive. But we're definitely both very argumentative, stubborn and hate being wrong. So I guess we compete to win debates a lot!
Do you egg each other on to get new tattoos or does it just happen organically? No, we just let each other do what the other wants in that regard. But I especially supported him when he tattooed our daughter's name on his own arm.
Do you have to worry more about placement of your tattoos due to modelling? I've always thought the sexiest tattoos on girls were on limbs or kind of sensual places, so that's why I have mine where I do. Granted, they are in places that are pretty easy to hide, but that didn't affect my decisions.
Have you ever found yourself saying no to what a photographer asks you to do on a shoot? Never on any professional shoot. In castings or some publicity shots I have, if I think they've been inappropriate or not conducive to the professional reputation I'd like to have. But I think that any photographer that's not a moron usually realises within five minutes I'm not the kind of girl that'll be pushed around. It's worked for and against me… but mostly for. At least at the end of the day I've got my self-respect, something a lot of girls who go into this industry don't manage to come out with intact.
Now that you're a mum has much changed for you? Oh, so much. Everything! Day-to-day life, the way I see the world, the way I see other people, my priorities, and the perspective I have on life in general. So little really matters in the world compared to your child and you understand that nearly everyone who has their own feels the same way. The second she was born, so much clicked.
You're studying acting. Was this a natural progression for you? What drew you to it? I started dance when I was three and theatre when I was four and I graduated from a performing arts high school in WA, so it's always something I've done. I've always thought of modelling as sort of a well-paid laymen's bastard of dance and acting. I kept going to auditions for TV commercials and getting the job, so I figured I should brush up and started studying at NIDA part-time.
When not in front of the camera, what is life like? Probably most people's idea of boring. I don't go out - we kind of just hang out at home, do things like go to the park or to the beach. It's nice. Our schedules, though at times busy, are also flexible and we get to spend a lot of time together as a family.
Who are your tattoo artists, and are there plans for more work? Josh Roelink (Tatudharma) is amazing - he's my favourite. But I don't have any plans for anything new at the moment. I want them all to be good, so I normally stew over them for a long time before getting them.

What about the following…
Love… Is everything. My family, my friends, my husband, my daughter - it rules every decision I make.
Nudity… Is awesome in the right context.
Fashion… Is like fire: a great servant and a terrible master. Make it work for you and it can be great, let it rule you and it will destroy you.
Art… Is Patrick's forté, not mine. I'm clueless and tend not to care
Travel… Is so much fun but after a while can be exhausting.

The leading man... Patrick
When it came down to it, Patrick chose tattoos over modelling - but with tattoos increasing in popularity since around the time that decision was made, it sure as hell hasn't stopped him from getting work. Having modelled for some of the biggest names in fashion, including Terry Richardson, Marc Jacobs and Dolce & Gabbana, the husband to Tiah and father to Finley has left New York behind in order to make a home for his family in Sydney. Decorated with ink from a dream list of tattooists, Patrick is ready to gain some new art. Artists, line up!
Inked: What started you down the path of getting tattooed? Was there someone you knew, or was it something to do with the look that captured your attention?
Patrick: My older sister's boyfriend was covered in tattoos, and I always envied the fact he was collecting artwork that he would have for the rest of his life. No one could take it away from him.
What was your first piece and how did it come about? My first piece was the geisha on my arm. It's a Sailor Jerry tattoo, but the Japanese geisha is wearing a Chinese dress. I love the American World War II ignorance of the piece. My mum got it for me for Christmas when I was 18.
Is there a theme through your tattoos? The only theme would be that there is no theme.
Was there a moment when you thought that you would have to choose between tattoos and your career? I did. I quit modelling and started working in the art world instead and got as many tattoos as I wanted. So yeah, I chose tattoos.
Who have you collected body art from and who was the most inspirational tattoo artist so far? I have been tattooed by some of the greatest, but that's all I'll say. No need to name drop. But if I had to plug a contemporary artist that has done work on me, I would say Charlie Foos, from Read Street Tattoo Parlour. If you find yourself in Baltimore wanting a new tattoo, I highly recommend him.
Nowadays, even Chanel has temporary tattoos as part of its range. When did you start to see a change towards the attitude of tattoos in modelling? I would say about three years ago. I went into this industry as a 22-year-old with tattoos and got noticed by Hedi Slimane, when he was the head of Dior. He's really the one who made it cool and acceptable in fashion. Then it kind of filtered down, and by 2007, Tiah and I were in London and there were all these 18-year-old kids willing to go get sleeves so they could book a Levi's campaign or something and be considered 'edgy'.
Are the two of you competitive? No, not at all. But stubborn as all hell.
When not in front of the camera what is life like? And how has Sydney changed this? If I'm not modelling, I'm looking after my daughter while Tiah is, or I'm designing new pieces of furniture. Leaving the hustle and bustle of New York and landing on this large island where things seem to move at half-speed has been a big shock. But it's definitely made a healthy impact on my life.
Any plans for tattoos in Sydney? Yes. Anyone reading this that owns a tattoo parlour and wants to tattoo me for free, please do!

What about the following…
Love? Need it.
Nudity? Love it.
Fashion? Whatever.
Art? Live it.
Travel? Miss it.

Bake the Hall in the Candle of her Brain

2011-03-20T03:51:00.000-07:00

There is a reason why I go out once in a blue moon. Multiple actually. Apart from the fact I would prefer, given the option, just to stay in my beautiful home and have fabulous people come over to me with bottles of wine. I am completely unable to fake being interested in people and situations I am not. I dislike loud music unless I get to choose it. I want to curl up and die when having to answer monotonous questions about myself when I am actually really uncomfortable and would rather discuss the weather/canapes/decor. Often I'll pray people will just think I'm a narcissistic bitch and get bored rather than realise how nauseatingly awkward I feel around mass strangers. I think the reality is what I have always known, I am just really, really uncool and kinda socially inept. Sometimes my husband uses the latter as an insult, a stab at my personality when we argue, but I'm never offended because I just know it's true. I do not care about cool people. Cool places. Cool music. Cool clothes. All your 'cool' kinda makes me wanna puke. And don't even get me started on not being able to even want to put on a hot dress and do my hair when I've had inch-thick make-up on my face and been in heels since 8am. I don't wanna get photographed sucking in my fucking cheekbones or hanging off hipsters arms. I don't wanna be on pseudo-zine blogs looking like a drunk slut. I'd rather watch Jim Henson's Muppets, make guacamole, dance around my house with friends to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack, go on late-night runs to the local store, find lost wallets, talk perfumes and David Lynch for an hour and all the while do it whilst being able to hear and see and feel everything for real with people I really love.
So, I'm really sorry if I've ever met you out and I seemed retarded.
And my friends- hit me up if you're near Old South Head and feel like some muppets and merlot. How's your week?

Wanking is like filling yourself up on hors d'œuvres. They're small, tasty enough, they get you by, but no matter how good they are there's still something unsatisfying about them. Even if they do completely kill your hunger there is that deep dissatisfaction that comes from knowing you didn't get to sit down and enjoy a proper meal.
Terrible one night stands (normally in the form of male models you'll only go on to regret later) are like junk food. No matter how much or how little you might want them, said desire is normally magnified after too many drinks and they just start to look real good and god, you're soooo hungry! You know they're bad for you, yes, you'll be sated and then some, but after all the greasy over-indulgence the next day you have to face the reality of what you did by staring at that leftover wrapper, trying to think what the quickest way would be to get rid of the evidence. Hence you're probably not gonna need to eat for a week but you can't help but feel a bit of shame for you own shallowness and need for immediate satisfaction. No matter how bad it was for your health... Or how many people saw you scoffing that cheeseburger...
Sleeping with women is like dessert. They look so pretty and are presented so well you just can't say no no matter how full you are. They are sweet, indulgent, can be enjoyed for hours. If they're simple they are clean and comforting, if they are mutli-layered they are complex and interesting, either way they are delicious and indulgent and so satisfying when you have them you don't need them all the time. Still, they're so appealing I've never been able to turn them down.
Personally, I like healthy home cooked meals. I really, never can say no to dessert, it's a definite weakness of mine and a great accompaniment to dinner or lunch out. Hors d'œuvres are necessary, good for when you're on the go or there's no opportunity for real food, but junk food I learnt my lesson on and avoid nowawadays. I have my fig-yuuure to think about!

Fire

2011-02-25T00:40:00.000-08:00

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love."
— William Shakespeare, Hamlet.

OH... And while I'm at it...

2011-02-21T19:16:00.000-08:00

...here are some of the campaign images! x

L'appartement

2011-02-21T16:31:00.000-08:00

Wheels and Dollbaby Behind the Scenes from Byron Spencer on Vimeo.

Behind-the-scenes sneak-peek at new Wheels & Dollbaby collection: very opium den, Oriental-French, 70's-YSL campaign inspired... Film by Byron Spencer and photograhed by Elvis Di Fazio (who I think should just join forces and become the new Mert and Marcus, Inez and Vinoodh, etc etc!).

The Public Privates

2011-02-19T01:44:00.000-08:00

A little video- that I only just found out existed- that went along with the General Pants campaign we did a few months ago.

x

Bahahaha!!

2011-02-08T16:30:00.000-08:00

I knew buying a good quality diaper bag would pay off....

Another Regular 'Can't-Help-Myself' Finnigan Post

2011-02-08T03:54:00.001-08:00

This time with my dogs at Christmas.
I'm dying of all the cuteness.

F**king Sweeeeet...

2011-02-08T03:31:00.000-08:00

...swimsuit thats the only one I've found in 6 years to fit me (The end to my dilemma of finding bikinis that fit/suit me/look as good as exxy French lingerie does!). Massive thanks to Leah from White Sands for saving my ass this summer!

Cutie.Pie.

2011-02-02T02:36:00.001-08:00

Beautiful As The Sun

2011-01-28T05:19:00.001-08:00

I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend anyone, but these are the most beautiful girls in the world. I would bet my lifeblood on it, and gladly die for any one of them.
x

Brendan,

2011-01-24T02:30:00.000-08:00

I can't believe just a couple of weeks after saying I thought you were the nicest person I met in New York, you're gone. That I declared you "My favourite of all my husband's friends" and yet we won't see you again. Hell, you were even there on our first date (High On Fire, Music Hall of Williamburg, Oct 9 '07). I still stand by my words, in a city of 8 million assholes you were the nicest, extraordinarily genuine and effortlessly kind. I always thought the world needed more people who were the kind who'd call people fake to their face, were so metal- and so secure in their ultimate metalness- they could sing along to Amy Winehouse and my fave, tell one of their own bestfriends you thought their girlfriend (me) was too good for them, hahaha. Sadly, instead of having more people like you, the world now has one less. You were talented, super lovely and so freakin' cool. We were really looking forward to seeing you in May and are really sorry you never got to meet our daughter. Everyone will miss you, my husband I think more than most. Thanks for every time we got to hang out.
P.s. When it happened, I was really sorry that I put Patrick's Orphan shirt in the dryer and shrunk it. But because of that he then gave it to me and now I get to wear it, so I'm actually kinda glad.

If You're in Sydney Tomorrow.....

2011-01-21T02:58:00.000-08:00

Just a post to let everyone (and anyone) in Sydney know that tomorrow my friends at Wheels & Dollbaby are having one of their famous garage sales at their 259 Crown St store. it's pretty much like this epic flash clearance that happens once in a blue moon when Mel feels like doing a big spring clean, but seriously: amazing stuff left right and centre. It's actually how we all first became friends years ago (my maltese x shitzu Jeordie tried to, how do you say... 'accost'...Mel's beloved dog Minky)! La Finnigan and I are going to go for breakfast and a stroll and find something(s!) awesome. Eggs+babies+puppies+sexy dresses= Good Saturday!!!!

Some Simple, Unadulterated and Consistent Facts About Yours Truly

2011-01-14T04:26:00.000-08:00

The three (shallow) things that make me most happy in the whole world are:

a) Sex
b) Food
c) Bubble baths

Though contrary to popular thought, combining one or more at the same time is never as good practically as it seems theoretically. However, sequential ordering of above points= bliss. Provide two or more of the above and I'll think you're the most fantastic person ever.
EVER.

Quotable Quotes for Girls of God

2011-01-11T02:20:00.000-08:00

"Never judge yourself on one man's opinion of you."
-B. Milinkovic

Desire

2011-01-06T05:27:00.001-08:00

They say one up-side to never having something is never knowing what you’re missing. So I guess on the contrary, once you’ve had something, you know all too well when it’s not there.
I’ve desired, and been desired, in my life in measures that maybe some people will never know. That possibly half the population is crazy enough to. That maybe a quarter of people would have the balls (audacity?) to. To points that perhaps only 5% of individuals, less deceptively charismatic and creepily cunning, would be able to reach before their actions became criminal. Okay, yes sometimes actual definition-criminal. But my knowledge of stalking and personal space and privacy laws is minimal, so for now i’ll plead ignorance.
I feel it was always movie-like. Great novel, inspiring poem, classic song-like. Like every piece of great art you said "Yes! That's how I feel!". I've cried for days, they've written songs. I wrote about them, they took hundreds of my picture. I would sniff their shirts when they were gone, they would stroke me in my sleep. And so on and so forth.
I’ve fallen in love at first sight. I’ve fallen in lust, life, death, sometimes-all-at-once at first sight. Sometimes just over a pair of cheekbones or the right build. The right look and energy that fuck, just rapes the air.
Sometimes it’s grown over serendipitous encounters, shared experiences or long-time digging through the depths of someone before hitting hard surface that says “This person is the most desirable one in The World”. And that’s all you’ll hear yourself say until it stops. But without fail, there was always a point when I knew, or shall I say a way. A behaviour, a look, I’m sure. And there they all were- from my reciprocal ones- at some point, returned. For I am not often the kind to fall for those who don’t fall for me. While a friend realised the ruling principle to her relationships is Groucho Marx’ quote that he “wouldn’t want to be a member of any club that would have” him, in stark contrast, at my narcissistic core, one of the most attractive things in a lover is how attractive they find me. After all, one can’t be blamed for admiring good taste, right? ;-)
Despite the potency they were all different. The way they showed it, you know, that returned desire. One would grab so hard at me he would leave bruises. He would grab violent fistfuls of my flesh with a look on his face that he might cry if I were to slip a way. A hard man whom when I woke up once, I caught watching me sleep.
The one that just smiled when I gave some signal that said ‘permission to be in my space’ and treated me like a child with that favourite toy they never got sick of. Treated me with Christmas Day-delight over and over.
The one that had the look that killed and saved all at the same time. That made me feel like he wanted to simultaneously covet and destroy me. And he did in the end. If you could ever see in someone’s eyes instantly they wanted to taste, protect, ruin and consume every part of you, it was his. Good for a good time, not for a long time...
There’s also the people you see it in perhaps just for hope’s sake. Because you reach some point where you don’t want desire to ruin you anymore. Because there’s not a whole lot left to ruin after the last one anyway. So you go for good conversation, some common interests, a couple of shared fun times together and you tell yourself that all means one day...one day it’ll be a sure thing. Desire will be returned. You’ll feel both safe and alive and you’ll be able to love, live and fuck without the fear it will destroy you in the end. But I guess until then you’re just waiting, not really living even a half-life at all. So that's where I've been at.

Waiting.

Once when we’d started dating, you were curled up in my bed, your scent intoxicating me as it still does. I said “Don’t you love it when you want something so much you want to just consume it?”. You said “Huh?...No”.
“What? Really? You know, when you want something so bad, there’s just no words, you can’t think, you just want to have it and taste it and keep it for ever, like, more than life itself, just CONSUME”
“....No”.
And I remember feeling sorry for you. That you’d never felt that and that if you hadn’t by then, with all the life you’d led, you probably never would.
Today I realised how foolish it was to feel sorry for you, because like they say, how can you miss something you never had.

Stopped waiting now. Started realising.

La Finnigan and The Leopard Print Dress (A Sartorial Post)

2011-01-05T03:35:00.000-08:00

Deadend.

2010-12-29T19:34:00.000-08:00

I'm not your type. And you won't try to be mine. So I guess were at an impasse.

Bubblicious!

2010-12-16T02:41:00.000-08:00

Long time, no blog. But hey, things have been busy. Moved to a beeeaaaautiful new apartment- east opposed to central- and I can't even express what a massive positive impact it's had. Waking up to a light, bright, spacious, clean home everyday (and being able to walk to the beach) is so underrated. God, I love this country! And I love this time of year because not only is summer here, after what felt like the longest winter ever, all my girls are home for the holidays! Eight months without Lauren has been way too hectic and I don't think I've ever been so excited to just put my face in someone's face and squeeze them. Which reminds me of another reason why I love our new residency in 'The Bubble'- such fine, superior specimens of women (in ways of not just exquisite beauty but sharp wit, intelligence and unfailingly endearing goofiness), Simone, Sonya, Amy, Shanay and Emica are all within walking distance. *Sigh* All loved up right now in the lady-sense. The only thing that could fix the hollow little hole in my heart would be Alyx Gorman's return from Melbourne. To get Jerry Maguire- "You complete me." I'm sure I will write something of some semi-importance, accidentally controversial, generally offensive or maybe just give people an excuse to call me a wanker, in the near future... Until then, I'm too busy enjoying myself. Go do the same!

Baby

2010-10-17T04:00:00.000-07:00

Every day I think I can't love you anymore. Then I wake up the next and I do.
Every second of life is better because you're in it.

You are the best, most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.
Happy 1st Birthday Finley.

Goals

2010-09-27T05:01:00.000-07:00

Well, I can rest peacefully and contently now I've made it onto The Awkward Lean, simultaneously riding a tiger-skin rug and a motorcycle at that- Dreams do come true kids!
I'm satisfied that I achieved one of my major goals of the year. ***UNDERGROUND POP CULTURE MOMENT!***

Now what I'd like to propose to the creator of The Awkward Lean is to allow me to create a sister site called 'Cheekbiter'. Oh yes, you know what I mean. It would be dedicated to those girls who feel the need to bite the inside of their cheeks in EVERY photo taken of them in the desperate hope it will make them look like they have more pronounced cheekbones than they actually do... Who do you think you're fooling?!?!?! Your mouth looks weird, you're giving me lock-jaw just looking at you, you multiple offenders I could run a list of off- hand. Go eat a dick. P.S. Do you not have like, permanent blisters on the insides of your cheeks?! Owww!

(Photo by Elvis Di Fazio)

By Akila

2010-09-25T05:09:00.000-07:00

Some snippets by Akila Berjaoui

World

2010-08-14T05:46:00.000-07:00

We have built a world of us. And I walk it’s walls touching things with the tips of my fingers.
The bed we sleep in, sheets that smell like us. Our daughter’s toys. Our glasses, cups, plates. The soaps and candles from Paris. The art from New York. The nothing from London, because London’s a shithole.
The impala skull you gilded in 24-fucking-carat gold. Valentine’s day- the WWI-bullet crucifix, hanging from it’s horns. Headless rose stems, cast in pewter- our first christmas. You know I think flowers are inconsequential, it’s the thorns that make something beautiful (belle-laide, mon amour... belle-laide).
The weekly white lilies. The fur on which we fucked, when I was your mistress and someone else your girlfriend. How you would run to the laundromat the next day to have my perfume washed from your linen so she wouldn’t know! Women always know. Now I’m the wife, and I know... this is love. And this is life.
....When I wake you up soon, to drag your sleepy head to bed, I will turn the lights off, fall alseep in our history and feel nothing's more beautiful than now.

...

2010-08-02T21:35:00.002-07:00

I'd rather be different than perfect.

Bepuzzled

2010-07-24T02:44:00.000-07:00

I feel as if my life is like a 3000-piece jigsaw puzzle right now. Well, my future I mean. I can see the big picture and have all the pieces, I just don't know exactly how to put them together. Or where the hell to even start.

Gilda...

2010-07-23T20:33:00.000-07:00

Without a doubt, my all- all - time favourite movie and movie starrrr *roll the r's dahlink!*: Rita Hayworth in Gilda.

Little

2010-07-21T05:35:00.000-07:00

I found this... it's from the first shoot I did- EVER- age 14, by Simon Lekias in Perth.
x

Whether Kisses or Knickers, The French do it Best...

2010-07-18T22:48:00.000-07:00

The campaign I shot in January for the French lingerie label Eres just came out and it's freakin' gorgeous, if I don't say so myself. Though this is due not to me (I wish I could claim it), but the ridiculously talented David Bellemere, with whom I also shot this story for French Marie Claire a while ago. That man is special!
Smoke and mirrors mon freur, smoke and mirrors...

Thanks to Fashionising, Fashion Gone Rogue and Frockwriter for the rad coverage. xoxo

The Joint Hen's/Buck's That Was But Wasn't

2010-07-05T16:11:00.000-07:00

Upon reflection of bruised knees and bitemarks on the back, I realise at some point, in a karaoke room in Surry Hills, I was convinced I was Slash and did a rather drastic air-guitar solo....

Thanks everyone!!!

Picture by Sam Thomas.

No. No. 10

2010-06-18T04:04:00.000-07:00

Thought I'd post a piece from No Magazine's issue 10: Wunderkinds. The pictures were taken by the insanely lovely Holly Blake and I was asked to write something to accompany them...

MODEL/MOTHER/WRITER

Most people are an amalgam of everything they know and love. The things we’re exposed and attracted to as children tend to influence the adults we grow up to be. They feed each other and interweave, until one day you realise you’re the product of every connected experience and passion you’ve had. Some people are more focussed, are able to draw them all towards a single direction. Others are more attention deficit. I’m definitely the latter.
It is no coincidence I find myself performing every day. Putting on an act was my childhood. As a kid, it was theatre spaces and studios, and now it’s cameras and catwalks, but staging a show is still what I know. There is no memory before it.
My older sister was obsessed with dance and was put into lessons as soon as she could walk. I naturally wanted to emulate her, starting myself at age three. Though I never had the natural skill and grace she possesses, when she became involved in musical theatre productions and her loud-mouthed, attention-seeking sister was constantly hanging around rehearsals… well, the crew found a little person willing to play every part fit for a four-year-old. I sang, danced and over-acted my way into everything, all before I could even read. In fact, it was theatre that brought me to my other loves: reading, and eventually, writing. If I only had two lines in a show, the only way I knew when to say them was to memorise the whole play. My mum recently recalled how I would sit in the wings and prompt the adults when they forgot their lines. Soon I stole a script, matched up all the words with those I knew and apparently, all of a sudden, one day came home completely literate.
Even in my moody tweenage years, when being the centre of attention was no longer my prerogative, that passion for the English language never waned. It’s hard to get up to too much mischief in rural-suburban Perth, but I kept my head down and myself out of trouble with my face in a book and a pen on paper. Ironically, now I find a lot of things I write tend to get me into trouble more often than out of it. Girls in my line of work are supposed to be beautiful idiots with nothing to say. And if you put anything out there beyond whimsical prose or blog entries of gratitude, littered with fashion name-drops, then people tend to have a fucking problem.
Modelling came about at age 14, when a friend-of-a-family-friend said I should go see Vivien’s (still my agency to this day). A year earlier their Perth booker had spotted me in a shopping centre and would go on to say, “I was afraid of signing you at that point, you were too sexy for 13. I thought I’d get in trouble.” Lolita-fears aside, that extra year wasn’t enough to convince them I was actually model material, and I agreed. The reason I eventually called was because they listed themselves as a theatrical agent, making me think I could work in that area instead. Face-to-face, they said they weren’t sure I’d work. After they saw snapshots, I was offered a contract. To this day I maintain I’m nothing special in person but am able to play it up for a camera, perhaps because it’s just another form of creating, acting, performing. It’s easy to lie through a medium.
In fact, all that artistic lying is what inspired me to record the realities of an industry built on fantasy and falsification. Not that I have a problem with either, but there is a time and place for both the glamour and the reality. Through years of travel, deleted blogs and diaries long since lost in multiple moves held the contents of my head and heart, while I worked in an industry that at times felt like it had neither. When I fell pregnant with my daughter Finley, I told myself I’d had enough, and moved back home.
They say you’ve never really known true love until you’ve had a child. Culturally, we’re so obsessed with this ideal of sexual, romantic love, without realising it is its product that is most important and most satisfying. Part of me had always loved fashion for its element of beauty, the creation of it. So many people are in the industry because they are chasing it, myself included. I found it – beauty, in its purest form – when I laid eyes on my daughter. I was ready to forget any semblance of a career.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to and found myself back at work shortly after giving birth. Having a newborn baby and working as a model seemed in direct conflict, but the offers were there and I thought, “Why the hell not? Who’s to say I can’t do both?” I’m glad to be breaking down the perceptions of what models are like. For every whore, coke addict, airhead or starvation dieter, there’s a smart chick finding a way to make the industry work for her without having to sacrifice her self-worth. But more importantly, I’d love for new mothers, young mothers and women who want to have children but are afraid it will derail their careers to know that there’s a way to make it work. And that you shouldn’t have to give up the things you want in your personal life for what is expected of you professionally.
That collection of experience, ability and passion that makes up an individual, I admit, is full of contradictions in my own case. Life seems to be a bunch of binary opposites at times, and those that make up mine just heighten the experience of each other. I love going to work in a superficially beautiful industry, full of material luxury, to play glamorous for the day. It makes me feel better about the days I spend washing dishes in my pyjamas, just as does kicking off a sample pair of Prada shoes to run home to bury myself in beautiful reality. And occasionally, there’s time to try and find words to make sense of it all, or sing from the top of my lungs. Usually while doing the dishes.

-

2010-05-26T04:56:00.000-07:00

I could build a bridge just to burn it down.

I Hate You...

2010-05-22T03:52:00.000-07:00

...AND your shitty excuse for 'art'!

Mostly

2010-05-20T06:32:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when we are mirrored hurt and anger
I want to leave you.
But mostly, I just want to fall into bed with you at the end of the day
tangle our lanky limbs around each other
and fall asleep in a soft, warm, knotted mess.

Annabel Lee

2010-05-18T20:30:00.001-07:00

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

-Edgar Allan Poe

I Don't Know What's So Hard For You

2010-05-17T18:37:00.000-07:00

I have the best mother in the world, who always told me I could do anything, should stand up for myself, always made me feel loved and wanted
I've had fun in a fantasy career that yes, is sometimes glamourous and frivolous
Get to see the world
Am with a gorgeous man who is also my bestfriend
Gave birth to the most ridiculously beautiful human being ever, who makes every day better than the last
Have brilliant, intelligent, witty, loyal friends
Always land on my feet
Am always ok
Find humour in everything and if there isn't any, at least try to make some.
Life has been fucking GOOD so I don't know what your problem is?

Oh, is that it?
If you make your bed, well....

Life is what you make of it
all that jazz
but cliches obviously won't affect you or they would've already.

I could focus on what I lack, but I don't.
I suggest you try the same.
You might stop trying to piss on people you feel got more than you from fate.

Two Seasons Too Late

2010-05-16T18:56:00.000-07:00

Little response to RAFW that I wrote for Oyster Magazine. God Sonny's backstage pictures are awesome, love that light :-)

2010 made Australian Fashion Week the sixth I’ve participated in since my first in 2004. I’m not counting my unofficial first- 2002- where mid-high school year I ventured out of the comfort of my parents’ Perth home and across our great land just to be told I was too fat and, confusingly, too plain and too weird.

Thanks for the self-esteem boost guys, I also nearly failed school that year. My heart goes out to the little dolls I’ve seen at show castings ever since. The blisters from your baby-hooker shoes will heal but the ego-wounds won’t. I’ll give you the name of my therapist, say Tiah sent you. Oh… and I mean foot therapist, she does a great pedi. Don’t even bother with the other kind.
Just like that social-climbing bitch at school – yeah, you know the one: insecure and nerdy but desperate to hang out with ‘the cool kids’ – Australia’s fashion industry equivalents aren’t above cutting to the bone with the cheapest possible blow in order to assert themselves. As what one would wonder? A part of the international scene? Good luck. Just because you can bitch out on a chick for having tits and an arse as good as Karl Lagerfeld can doesn’t mean you can make clothes like him. And even it would seem The Kaiser’s coming around to a bit of woman’s-woman nowadays, booking the likes of Lara Stone and Claudia Schiffer for Chanel. Miuccia too, sending out Victoria’s Secret models for Prada and Marc Jacobs pulling a similar act with Elle MacPherson at Louis Vuitton.
Surprise! And not just at the international collections’ casting choices, but at the fact our country is still maintaining its tradition of not ‘getting it’ until two seasons too late. You’d think in 15 years we would’ve caught up. Or at least rebelled and begun a rebel faction in the cafeteria. But no no, as a collective we’re still chasing along after the popular kids, repeating what they do and what they say (but with delay) in a desperate bid to fit in most of the time. I look forward to 2012 when this year finally sets in and we see at least a C-cup on the runway, or anyone over 21.

Sting

2010-05-12T07:38:00.000-07:00

He did it so much
for so long
'til I cried
once or twice.
It was so nice
to have everything terrible
delivered to me
in a way that was so good.
It made me feel better about how fucked up I was.

Am.

I don't get much relief these days...

Hellyeahhair!

2010-05-02T04:30:00.000-07:00

Baby's on fire
Better throw her in the water
Look at her laughing
Like a heifer to the slaughter

Baby's on fire
And all the laughing boys are bitching
Waiting for photos
Oh the plot is so bewitching

Rescuers row row
Do your best to change the subject
Blow the wind blow blow
Lend some assistance to the object

Photographers snip snap
Take your time she's only burning
This kind of experience
Is necessary for her learning

If you'll be my flotsam
I could be half the man I used to
They said you were hot stuff
And that's what Baby's been reduced to...

Juanita and Juan
Very clever with maraccas
Making their fortunes
Selling second-hand tobaccoes

Juan dances at Chico's
And when the clients are evicted
He empties the ashtrays
And pockets all that he's collected

But Baby's on fire!
And all the instruments agree that
Her temperature's rising
But any idiot would know that.

Last Night

2010-04-30T05:01:00.000-07:00

I can't really remember the first part of the dream, but it was like a murder game gone wrong. The mystery was solved, the guilty discovered but unpunished. As if the crimes they committed -which so many people seemed adamant about requiring justice- were ultimately inconsequential. So this collective rage, which formerly had reason, turned on me. Not swiftly, but it seeped in like some sinister creature intent on devouring another victim. It was then I fled. Through the manor's gardens, spotlight-lit, over rooftops and behind trees and into their muddy black shadows, to a neighbours house. That's where they were. Twenty to thirty of them revelling delirous in remains of a twisted tea-party. The men were dressed in suits like dandies and the girls in black lace lolita dresses, resembling aryan imitation-harajuku girls. But it wasn't the tears in their cheap halloween-like outfits that made the whole scene creepy. It was the cuts that covered their entire bodies. Faces, arms, legs, slashed through the clothes and on the torso, all dripping bright red. Some fresh, some caked and crusted. They were smiling and laughing. Like they enjoyed it. But the kind of laughs that were hysterical and edgy and smiles that showed on their mouths but not in their eyes. I knew they were sad and how destructive the whole situation was. I wanted to help, said it would be ok, that they didn't need to do this to themselves. It didn't even occur to me to wonder how this had turned to fun for them. How self-mutilation en masse was relief or how it's formed collective became cause for celebration. They didn't want my help. They hated me for my lack of visible wounds and though I tried to say I hurt just as much as they did on the inside, the burning started. The slashes in my arms at first left me apologetic, softly saying "It's ok, don't mind me. We'll clean this up, I can handle this. I'm thick-skinned and I don't scar easy". But it turned to hard swipes. Long, malicous deep-pressure pulls of blades through my skin before I was just a rag-doll in a circle. I was dripping and dizzy when I gave up and started to sob. Not just from the violence, but my pride and the fact I would never be able to hide such open gashes again. I gave in. And motionless on the floor I let them chop me into bits. Tiny pieces left of me cannot move. So when I woke to paralysis in my bed, stiff as a board with stinging skin, I couldn't work out was worse- the imagined memory of such horror or the fact I still felt it.

White Woman

2010-04-25T04:20:00.001-07:00

Helmut Newton once said "You can either fuck a model or photograph them, but never both"... Now I'm a hell of a good fuck, but I'm even better in a photograph. So I ask the question- Are you an artist? Or just another sleaze posing as an artist?

"You Make Me Wanna F*** Your Face!"

2010-04-15T05:25:00.000-07:00

And who said the romance goes once you're married?...

-

2010-04-02T16:15:00.000-07:00

I'm more a woman than you are a man.

Marky Mark and The Freaky Bunch

2010-03-23T03:25:00.000-07:00

If society as we currently know it goes under and future mankind uncovers but only Mark magazine as representative of our civilisation, I will be extremely proud. ‘Freak’ was issue 3 of the independent magazine-turned-art book created by photographer Justin Smith, art director Shane Sakkeus and it’s namesake Mark Vassallo- undoubtedly Australia’s top fashion editor, stylist and creative director. It presented in 400-something otherworldly images the beautiful ‘freaks’ they had found in Perth, Smith’s hometown. After issue 2’s cover, featuring a then unknown 15 year-old Gemma Ward, landed on the desk of David Cunningham at IMG (who in turn presented his find to Prada casting director Russell Marsh, thus launching a superstar), Vassallo and Smith wanted to show the world that Ward was not a one-off and it’s most isolated city had produced some of it’s most gorgeous girls. The girls they affectionately dubbed ‘FREAKS!’ Because this was not a production line, or a showcase of flawless clones like those high fashion is accustomed to, it was a celebration of models they thought unique. Whether it be for their inimitable looks, attitude or individuality and often, all three. I was lucky enough to be deemed by them a freak, along with the likes of Sophie Ward, Simone Kerr, Sonya Kukainis, Amy Finlayson and Lauren Brown- who have since become some of my dearest and oldest friends . It also featured specially commissioned short stories by acclaimed author Tim Winton and the debut publication of Sophie’s literary work. Those lucky enough to get their hands on one of the limited edition printed copies treasure them. Everyone I know in possession of one has it in prize position on their bookshelf. For all those who missed out, you can consider yourself lucky Mr Vassallo has just given the issue it’s very own website www.markmagazine.com.au I swear if you are not inspired by FREAK and it's feeling-filled layers of fashion, art and pure, undiluted beauty then I swear you have no soul.

All photos: Justin Edward John Smith.

Freeeeeeaak!!!

2010-03-08T15:29:00.001-08:00

My BF of 8 years LB, kickin' all ya'll's asses at Givenchy.

Get down and worship plebs! Hahahaha!

x

Sincerely (but not yours), Ms Tiah M Eckhardt-Delaney.

"What did you do? Hock a lugey into it?"

2010-02-23T03:56:00.000-08:00

...If I thought I could get away with some people's handwriting, I totes would.

Political

2010-02-21T03:19:00.000-08:00

Gorman and I realised relationships are like politics. You take part not necesarily to get the best man in, but more to keep the worst man out.

I Kinda...

2010-02-09T23:16:00.001-08:00

... miss the snow.

Reasons Why I Love My Husband: #341

2010-02-07T07:20:00.000-08:00

Walk into bar, sit down at table and he literally pukes on the pretentious, pissy French fashion hipsters next door. But acts as if nothing at all happened. Sip martini nonchalantly and look away feigning interest in something on the other side of the room, all the while trying to wipe tiny smile off face. Casually continue conversation between selves.

When it comes to girls, I like blondes...

2010-02-03T09:00:00.000-08:00

...pale, natural blondes.

Lauren, Cassie, Sonya, Chelsea: WOAH!

Agalmatophilia

2010-02-01T18:21:00.000-08:00

I don't normally hang out in cemetaries- I did goth when I was 17 and got it out of my system- but Pere Lachaise was a fun way to kill a day. Pardon the pun.

This ginger kitty followed us, quite literally, around the whole place the entire time we were there. I don't actually like cats and think there are few things worse in the world then 'cat people'. And by cat people I mean people that are into cats as pets or baby substitutes, not like the 80's movie with Nastassja Kinski. Anywho, this one was cute. Definitely cuter than le chat noir presiding over Edith Piaf's grave.

"I confess that certain uses of the imperfect indicative- of this cruel tense which presents itself to us as something ephemeral and at the same time passive, which at the very moment it summons up our actions, stamps them with illusion and obliterates them in the past without leaving us, like the simple past does, the consolation of activity- have remained for me, an inexhaustible source of mysterious sadness."

-Proust

Hey, Hey It's 2am Free Associative

2010-01-23T09:49:00.001-08:00

Packing for Paris, leaving tomorrow. Can't sleep. Parenthood has provided me with preparation paranoia that is a paranoia that I never have enough stuff, remember everything, account for every possible situation on top of already existing condition to pack 2 months worth of lingerie for every week-long trip I've ever taken + you know, the clothes. And 8-inch sex shoes are always totally practical for snow. Though don't think about how much you will miss baby on first time away as might cry. Giving Mum skype tutorial to look at her pretty little face still every day the whole 5 days I am gone. Guilt would be a c**t if I wasn't so level enough to realise I only leave to earn a living to look after us. Apart from that, I'm totally fulltime and add it up it's no different to my mum working 6 days a week when I was a kid to support us. Less if that. Oh how's the serendipity turns out I'm staying in a different hotel on the same street we stayed at this time last year when The Little was concieved, except this one's nicer and now I'm making the $, serendipitous? Maybe it's a sign things are always up. Nicer, more love, better paid. I like life more every day and I'm so psyched on the people I get to live it with. God I am in love, not to say just 'in love' with someone like it's a verb or a state of being but rather just a way of life that means its led in a completely mutually receptive manner. Fuck I wish you could understand what it's like to wake up in the morning with a bit of light through the window in white sheets with a man who says I Love You every day and gets your little baby and puts her between you and cuddle all together for half an hour before facing the world. You'd drown in such beauty if it didn't breathe such inspiration. Computer you can go now, leave packing for morning, I have a munchkin to watch, to kiss, before pretty arms to climb into, to stroke my skin and send me sweet dreams of tomorrow.

Dear Desperate Try-hard,

2010-01-13T17:25:00.000-08:00

A word of advice: Put down the fag and vodka-soda, go home, wash that poorly applied make-up (and dried-up c**) off your face and get into bed. You might book something decent within the next decade. Maybe.
Sincerely (but not yours), Ms Tiah M Eckhardt-Delaney.

Déjà Vu

2010-01-08T21:16:00.000-08:00

I would really like to have a conversation that doesn't sound like one I've already had.

My Babies

2010-01-04T18:08:00.000-08:00

Patrick thinks Finley looks like Alfred E Newman in this picture.

HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU

2010-01-04T18:06:00.000-08:00

Years now darlin'! I mean, really? Get the hint and go away!

"Only Bad Witches Are Ugly"

2010-01-02T21:47:00.000-08:00

Dear Tenant

2009-12-28T03:57:00.000-08:00

If my heart was an apartment building,
all little apartment-compartments,
with each one labelled as housing a different list of those I love-
Some would be overcrowded
Some would be illegal.
"We are at full capacity,
but there is always room for one more"
depending on which door you're directed to.
Family's cooking dinner in 2c.
Friends are throwing a party in 4f.
Daughter's sleeping soundly in 3b.
If all my heart was apartment-compartments,
all would be full but one.
There's a name on the lease but no one really lives there anymore
and I no longer care to visit.
Lock-it and throw away the key.

Your bills are in the mail.
And when you go home, please keep the noise down,
I don't want to hear you.
As far as I'm concerned, you've been gone a while now.

Verbatim

2009-12-22T07:19:00.000-08:00

Have you ever noticed how there's some things that just never sound true when you say them, no matter how many times you do in the hope it will make them so? You try to believe the words that come out of your own mouth because you know if you do, you'll be a lot happier and things will be better for everyone. I find that "I forgive you" are the most common ones for me. But admitting that you can't fix all you want to, when you're trying to, doesn't seem like it would improve the situation either. So you just smile and grit your teeth and repeat the same sentences over again while hoping they sound honest this time.

Why I did what I did, Why I am where I am

2009-12-15T07:23:00.000-08:00

If I had to have one more sponsor-provided cocktail, witness one more wannabe-model/fashionista-socialite posing like they don't care (when they do) or talk bullshit to one more person I didn't give a shit about... I would've puked on my shoes and shot someone.

Heaven and an Angel

2009-12-13T03:31:00.000-08:00

What do you get when you cross a Kitten with a Bunny?

GO AHEAD, EVOLVE.

2009-12-08T07:49:00.000-08:00

ONE DAY YOU WILL FEEL WHOLE.
AND YOU WILL REALISE IT'S THE REASON YOU ARE HERE.
IT WILL ALL BE CLEAR.
IT'S ABOUT DOING IT FOR SOMEONE ELSE.
IT'S NOT ABOUT GETTING LOVE.
OR GETTING ATTENTION.
THESE STUPID THINGS YOU WASTE YOUR TIME ON
TO MAKE YOURSELF FEEL WORTHWHILE
FOR WHAT? TO MAKE OTHER PEOPLE FEEL BAD?
TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER?

IT'S NOT ABOUT GETTING.
IT'S ABOUT GIVING...
EVERYTHING
LOVE
ATTENTION
YOURSELF
TO SOMEONE ELSE.

This Is It.

2009-12-06T06:16:00.000-08:00

Everything is always getting better. Always. There is always something better right around the corner and if there's not, go make it for yourself. Go find it for yourself. You might have to hunt it down like an animal to it's lair, skin the bastard, stuff it and hang it on your wall, but for Godssakes it's there! Sorry, that might be a brutal analogy for the pleasant point I'm trying to make... But you know what I mean.

I was on a train to Paris once. Quite a defining moment. I locked myself in the bathroom cubicle of the Eurostar, curled up in the foetal position in my fur coat and just rocked myself back and forth while I cried so hard I puked into the toilet. I tried to call my mum, my bestfriend, my sister, but the reception wasn't good and anytime I got through (on a shitty connection and in my state) no one understood a thing anyway. I remember thinking I don't want this anymore. I don't know what I'm looking for, before finally just saying out loud "I just want my happy ending now please, I'm tired". I was tired. At 22, I was tired. And I was sick of trying just so hard. All the time.

So I cleaned myself up. Got into Paris. Bought a freakin' croissant and a coffee, did my job and the next day I went back to London.
...Where I booked an airline ticket, told my agency I was leaving for a little while, packed a bag and in less than 24hours I was in New York. My ex offered me a spare room in his apartment to stay for a few days. Which turned into a few weeks because a point was reached that quickly in that weekend space of days filled with giggles and tea and bubble baths and breakfast in bed and sex on the hour that I stayed longer... partied too, ate with friends in my favourite diners, shopped for lingerie in Barney's, made trips with the boy to YSL (My favourite) and Dior (His favourite), wandered around on my own, stared at the new snow out the window... It was a blur of beauty and fun and safety and satisfaction and though there's since been a lot of shit in between- A lot of hard, lonely, complicated shit that a lot of people would have no idea about- I'm now here.
I'm HERE.
Here is Love. Happiness. LIFE. I have an awe-inspiringly gorgeous daughter with that man, a beautiful man who really loves me and is such a good human being beneath it all. I have the best- smartest, sarcastic, sassy and most loyal- friends a girl could ask for. I have an incredible family, who have been through a LOT this year and whom I've been so happy I could be here for and more who I am grateful for being here for me. I am fit, healthy, strong, happy and I like myself. It feels good to be here. It feels good to be me. Maybe all the shit was necessary. Maybe it was just a hole I dug myself and had to pull myself out of. Maybe it was fate or karma or penance for my sins, but none of it matters now because I chose better.
And this is it.

F.

2009-12-03T06:51:00.000-08:00

Basically, when I look at you, the whole world falls away. It's as if someone switched on a spotlight and you and I are the only things in this circle of bright white light. Everyone, anyone, everything else could be out there in the darkness but I don't care, I don't even notice there is nothing else outside of us.
Sometimes I leave you, forget for a little while what it's like to feel so whole. Drift away and enjoy being a separate being again. But it's just a matter of minutes, no more than mere few hours before I ache for you. I see your face- your beautiful face!- burned into my brain and I stop at nothing to get back to wherever you are. Before it pains me anymore. Before you realise I might be gone and hope (dear God do I hope) that the thought never crosses your mind that I might not come back.
But I do. I do, I do! And when I do, I put my face right close to yours, I stare and I realise while you know nothing of the world, you know me, and I do. So I will show it to you, I will give it all to you. Because you show me myself, because you give me myself.

Modern Life

2009-12-03T00:46:00.000-08:00

"...nuzzling the ear, inhaling shampoo, quickening breath, muttering poetry, solidifying and liquefying groins, a firm breast in one hand, knicker elastic in the other, a shuffling of position, an arching back, a click, a snap, a bustle, a zip, a "don't" and then a "do", an "ooh" and an "ah"..."

$

2009-11-24T22:23:00.000-08:00

Exchange your self-loathing for cash,
Turn it into something you can use.

Loves Her

2009-11-21T00:57:00.001-08:00

Evan Rachael Wood. x

The Divine and The Extremely Anaemic

2009-11-06T19:56:00.000-08:00

Dad's lips and eyes, Mum's nose and face... Our divinely beautiful little creature.

We exist in secret

2009-11-02T00:47:00.000-08:00

and shall not be shared.

Slaughterblouse

2009-10-29T06:21:00.001-07:00

"Every morning, I like to get my day started with a little bondage gymnastics. I find it keeps me fit, strong and satisfies all my masochistic tendencies..."
- from 'Tiah Eckhardt's Guide to Healthy Living', available at all good bookstores near you just in time for Christmas.

Finley Victoria

2009-10-20T23:55:00.000-07:00

My Beautiful Girl...

As for the outfit Miss Finley's wearing, I was very excited when my friend Nikita gave it to me at my baby shower. I'd made a nightie for myself out of the same fabric a couple of months ago when prepping for Fin's arrival so I imagine my reaction when I saw this- and realised that yes, that was Stefano Pilati hanging around outside my nursery window with binoculars and a notepad.

Wode and Six Scents

2009-10-16T00:54:00.000-07:00

Check out this beautiful ad for Boudicca's fragrance 'Wode' shot by Justin Smith! I love his short film work- elegant, sexy, powerful and slightly dark, just like my favourite pictures by him and much like the man himself. And while you're trying to work out whether you're a little creeped out or just turned on, go have a look at another fragrance campaign he recently shot which I had the privilege of being a part of for Six Scents (I'm almost 6 months pregnant in the picture on the packaging and the film!- Did someone say "maternity leave?"). It's the second series of collaborations between perfumers and designers/artists like Phillip Lim, Gareth Pugh, Jeremy Scott, Preen, Richard Nicholl and Henry Holland and the proceeds go to charity. I'm dying to know what "Solar Donkey Power" smells like because that's the scent that has my mug on it!

You Said...

2009-10-14T06:54:00.000-07:00

"That's what you do for me- you fill my soul back up."

Top 5's

2009-10-06T22:04:00.000-07:00

I just found this from an interview Sophie Ward and I did with Marcia from Style Voyeur. As far as interviews go, this was on the fun side... x

"Tiah's Top 5's

Top 5 Bands

Hole: Live Through This was the first album I ever owned. I stole it off my big sister's friend when I was 10 and listented to it obsessively for years.
Deftones: I discovered in High School and changed my life and taste in music forever.
Jack Off Jill: I never get sick of Jessica Fodera's combination of childlike lullaby singing voice punctuated with high-pitched screams. Plus, Mark Ryden does the cover art.
The Cramps: Godparents of psychobilly, they created something totally new and exciting out of a mish-mash of personal references. And Poison Ivy and Lux Interior (R.i.p) were possibly one of the hottest couples in history.
Nine Inch Nails: Trent Reznor is a self-taught genius, fullstop.

Top 5 Trends Through The Decades

Super, Super High Heels: I don't care if you need a taxi to get from where you parked your car to the front door - they look HOT.
Anything and Everything 50's: I'm biased on this because anything 50's fits my shape like a glove. As well as the prints - big florals, leopard - I love that demure full-skirt dresses and sexy pencil-skirts, off shoulder-tops and capri pants can all exist in the same period of reference. (See Crybaby.....I loved this movie as a kid.)
Lingerie inspired anything, under or outer: Lace, silk, velvet trim, stockings, suspenders, corsets...I will never get enough.
Body-con: When I was little I told my Mum I wanted to be a Robert Palmer girl when I grew up. I dare you to find me a woman that doesn't look hot (or at least think they do) in a Herve Leger dress.
Mid 90's: Midriff sweaters, big boots, tartan skirts, over-the-knee socks, denim short-shorts and babydoll dresses. I blame my sister and her friends for being teenagers when I was still in primary school and making me wanna dress like them because I thought they were super-cool. (See Empire Records, Clueless.)

Top 5 Haunts Internationally

Beatrice Inn, West Village NY: The first place I went to when I moved to NY, it's teeny-tiny, has a regular crew and feels like you're kind of just hanging in your friend's rich parent's basement loungeroom or something.
Oxford Art Factory, Sydney: I've gone nuts here way too many times. It's too fun....I'm surprised they keep letting me back in.
Lit Lounge, East Village NY: Dirty, dank and disgusting in the best possible way.
Motor City and Darkroom, Lower East Side, NY: They're entirely different venues but I personally can't separate these 2 places. A visit to one always preceeds the other and they are a block apart on my old street in LES.
Little Creatures, Fremantle: Their pale ale is my favourite beer, their pizzas are awesome and there's little better than sitting out on the back deck in the sun enjoying both.

Top 5 Style Icons

Dita Von Teese.
Courtney Love circa 1992.
Rita Hayworth in "Gilda."
Bettie Page.
Catherine Deneuve in "The Hunger."

Top 5 Backstage Moments

There's no such thing as "Top" backstage moments, only worst backstage moments. Unless you're talking about backstage at concerts, in which case I'd say chatting to Chino Moreno from Deftones side of stage at a Sydney show in 2006."

Chantal Thomass

2009-09-29T20:38:00.000-07:00

Someone get me to Paris and give me $10000, I need another hit...

Disclaimer*

2009-09-18T06:17:00.000-07:00

*I don't fuck people I work with. And I don't work with people I fuck.

kennethcappelloblog.blogspot.com

Beloved

2009-09-15T22:15:00.000-07:00

The day your love touches me
I'll become so mad that lunatics will run away.

The words of a master-poet could never capture
the spell that your eyelashes cast upon my heart.

-Rumi

Sounds Like...

2009-09-15T07:50:00.000-07:00

to revolt is to refuse to obey the constraints imposed by another; to rebel is to attempt to replace those constraints by a set of one's own

agitator, anarchist, antagonist, apostate, demagogue, deserter, disectarian, dissenter, experientialist, experimenter, frondeur, guerrilla, heretic, iconoclast, independent, individualist, innovator, insurgent, insurrectionary, malcontent, mutineer, nihilist, nonconformist, opponent, overthrower, recreant, renegade, resistance, revolter, revolutionary, revolutionist, rioter, schismatic, secessionist, seditionist, separatist, subverter, traitor, turncoat

The Cooler Kerr

2009-09-13T20:05:00.000-07:00

Simone @ The (since deceased) Beatrice Inn. 08.

Bringing Sexy Back

2009-09-12T09:28:00.001-07:00

I’ve always said it’s about context. That fine line between sexy and submissive. I often wish I had the talent to take a beautiful photograph as much as I wish I could play an instrument flawlessly. Especially when I know so many gorgeous girls, inside and out, of whom I’ve been privileged to see at their absolute sexiest- relaxed, confident, aware, unaware... I could make a million dollars if I could capture them like that. But alas, technology and I do not have a good relationship and even when we try we just don’t seem to co-operate or produce anything productive. I am fortunate that I do however, feel like I’ve been blessed with an eye that understands images, whether I am creating them or not. If you’re talking photographs of a naked girl, be it the subjects themselves or the critics of the final product, I really don’t get it at how often they don’t 'get it'. So I’m going to break it down. From the point of view of a female, of a subject, of a fan.
As with all art, whatever the medium, look at it and think about how it makes you feel. Whether it’s in a porno mag or The Louvre. Figure out what it is then ask yourself why (and this is where you need a brain I guess). Especially as a potential subject unless you want to be as disposable as the paper you’re printed on. As a woman when you look at that picture of a girl, open mouthed, body tensed, clothes partially removed, looking desperately at a camera, does that make you feel sexy? Does it make you feel good about yourself? I’m thinking no. This is an image created to simulate the feeling, in a male viewer, that the subject wants him. This is you fitting a mould. This is you replaceable, interchangeable, and ultimately unmemorable. And this is why you have to look harder...
I feel nothing when I look at pictures like this. When the person in the photo is performing, if you will, a routine for the person taking it, or looking at it later. Such a method also more subtly seems to rape the body of any elegance or grace. probably because both come with control and when that is lost, no matter how unconsciously, it is visible in the muscles. My friend Emma and I were discussing this in reference to someone we know being referred to as “Mutt-hot”, where one has the right build or measurements but lacks so much class and self-respect it is evident in the way the body’s owner holds it, and why it (temporarily) attracts men to see their desperation for approval. Women see this almost straight away and find it unnattractive, demeaning, men can at least find it a turn-on for 7 minutes (ahem) but of course, will never respect it. An infatuation beyond the time it takes to get a get a boner and get off, combined with an image that tempers control with coquettishness is what makes an icon. One admired by men and women at that.
I have no problem with nudity, or blatant sexuality. Obviously. I do however have a problem with how it’s presented and with whom the power lies. Contrary to popular belief my own lack of modesty lies in a long-existing nonchalance in regards to my body and not uncontrollable exhibitionism. Though however casual I have been, I have never been careless. There is a reason I am comfortable being naked in photographs or portraying a ‘sexy’ image (apart from the fact if you were to investigate more closely, 90% of the time the photographers have been gay, married or women). I understand the work, the person producing it and what they hope to achieve from it. The overall ‘tone’ if you will. If you look at a picture like one I mentioned before, a usual subject-trying-to-turn-on viewer example by running through a virtual list of cliche ‘sexy’ it becomes not only degrading, but boring, unoriginal and empty. Where is the person? Where is the girl? Where is the beauty that inspires desire in something so commonplace? Now compare it to those pictures where someone just IS. Just IS sexy. They’ve been caught, they’re in a moment, they are laughing, crying, pre-sex, post-sex, flawless, dirty, whatever the situation but most importantly they are uncaring and being so for the sake of being, not for seeking the approval of the person taking the picture!
A photograph that is genuinely sexy is one where the camera is worshipping the subject and not the subject as a submissive entity existing for the camera and it’s then undeserving operator!
This is why i have no problem being naked for the likes of Rankin or Justin Smith. You look at their photos and the subject is ultimately being appreciated, adored even, as an object of lust because said subject doesn’t seem to really care as they are smiling mischeiviously, laughing deliriously or standing hands on hips, stone-faced as a figure of authority even when stripped bare. It’s this same reason, of tone in someone’s work, that also makes me dislike someone’s work or not want to be a part of it. It’s the same reason when after shooting a couple of rolls with Terry Richardson and he suggests taking off my clothes, I suggest he finishes the roll and how about we leave it there. Because though I find a lot of the work of someone like that amusing, the unspoken statement in the final result, deafeningly loud for some of us, is that it’s all for him. All for the artist and not for the art. And definitely not for the subject. Why would you want anyone to see a picture of you- which unless you’re an already established supermodel or celebrity- was clearly only taken because you let him jerk off on your face? Everyone would know why it was there and how you just happened to be the one willing to be that day’s cum-rag.
For the same reasons of trying so damn hard to please someone that’s already taking something from you- your image- I’ve often been more uncomfortable doing things semi-clothed than I have naked. Because again, it’s fitting into that cliche ideal. It’s obviously designed to arouse rather than simply being arousing for just being itself. Or yourself. I guess at the end of the day you have to know who that is and whether you be who you are for you, or the approval of others. I don’t find it to be sexy, so desperately trying to fill another person’s ideals. Consciously or not. And I don’t think a wider audience does either, whether they realise that immediately or not. But as they say, a camera is a thousand times sharper than the human eye and that contextual tone cuts straight through a lens faster than light when you know how to look for it.

Aimee V

2009-09-12T07:01:00.000-07:00

Filthy Gorgeous Things

2009-09-07T20:25:00.000-07:00

I am LOVING this website.

x

Curses

2009-09-05T20:26:00.000-07:00

"This is noise, this is curse, this is talk,
this is red, this is pale, this is ache,
this is last, this is slow, this is shock,
this is thrown, this is fire, this is break,
this is snow, this is witch, this is spell,
this is cut, this is final, this is fine,
this is moon, this is tide, this is hell,
this is hers, this is theirs, this is mine...

...All you know of heroines is what you read
sometimes we burn, sometimes we bleed.
All you know of heroines is what you read.
Burn. Bleed."

- Taken from 'Curses' by Nicole Blackman.

More Frost

2009-09-03T04:40:00.000-07:00

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Never Too Young...

2009-09-01T05:35:00.000-07:00

... to get them started on the classics. Mozart, Bach, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven and my personal favourites, Chopin and Debussy. However I am omitting my other favourite, Prokofiev, because I don't want to raise a serial killer- Dance of The Knights might just be a little too gnarly for the womb.

compass needle breaks like the heart I gave to you

2009-08-31T22:34:00.000-07:00

When I first heard Brody Dalle's voice it reminded me of Courtney Love and just like when Hole did Celebrity Skin and all the ignorant purist grunge kids didn't 'get it' (90's grunge interpretation of Calfornia soda-pop 60's girl bands? DUHHH! it was genius), I think the same little pretentious wankers aren't going to get this... but it's freakin' amazing.

x

Ulysses

2009-08-27T05:31:00.000-07:00

"And then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes i said yes i will yes."

- James Joyce

ad vice.

2009-08-23T05:30:00.000-07:00

You know that feeling you get when someone totally breaks your heart and it hurts, physically hurts, so much that it’s like your being stabbed in the chest, you can’t breathe and every muscle in your body aches all over at the same time? And there’s nothing you can do to make it go away, no substance or experience to let you forget, no family member or friend that can make you feel any better? And you think... You think it’ll never end and you’re probably right?
Well, this is worse than that.

33 Weeks

2009-08-19T23:24:00.000-07:00

I am an optical illusion.

*turns to front* "I am a normal person"

*turns to side* "I am a massively pregnant person"

-

2009-08-02T20:18:00.000-07:00

"Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children."

- William Makepeace Thackeray