"You Don't Buy a Kebab, You Rent It"

Words of wisdom from The Phoenix, my husband of one year.
Actually it's a year and one week since we got hitched.
It was a lovely spring afternoon in Melbourne where we shared our vows with sons number One, Two and Three, The Stylist and Miss Danni-Long-Legs.

Since that day, we have had more health scares and ups and downs than a crack whore on a bender.
But the kids are flourishing, The Phoenix has kicked some seriously screwy pain killers out of his medication regime, he's also lost about 13kg, which means his target joints have less strain on them and we understand each other a whole lot more.
We made plans to celebrate our first anniversary as husband and wife, but these were scuppered by intense fatigue.
Our health and well-being as individuals and a couple is far more important than marking an anniversary that could leave us even more exhausted and in need of precious recovery time.
We spent last weekend reminded of our remarkable ability to simply enjoy each other's company with talking, sleeping, laughing, sleeping, movies, sleeping, snogging, sleeping, tea, sleeping, eating and more sleeping.
It was blissful.
More pics of our big day out and other Melbourne adventures.
I'm linking to the Visible Monday hot wenches, I hope you've had a fabulous weekend:).
Big love,
Desiree xoxoxo

Wedding Cake and Corporate Scumbag Tours

Just two hours before our wedding in October, I decided it was time I did something about a wedding cake.
So I wiggled into a random French bakery all dolled up in my 1950s cocktail frock and pointed out a cake I thought looked pretty wicked and yummy.
I happened to mention I was getting married in a couple of hours and could they deliver it to the Italian restaurant we were eating in that arvo?
That's the great thing about Melbourne.
Very rarely does anyone raise an eyebrow at such "odd" behaviour, which would certainly be frowned upon here in Brisneyland.
I mean one is supposed to have some hideously expensive monstrosity to show guests what an amazing couple you are right?
Like zis?

Sorry wrong one.
I meant something like this.

Yikes!

As it turned out, we had our wedding dinner the night after the ceremony which wasn't planned, but turned out to be a really good idea.
We were well-rested (bahahhahahaha!) and it was a super relaxing evening.

I wore my wedding frock because the lovely lacy tart just needed a good thrashing for the second day in a row.
But I carried a gold lame clutch bag gifted to me by Hot Pants Helga instead of the beaded tapestry bag I used on the wedding day and kept the jewellery pretty casual plus some different stockings - ooooh err!

Wedding shoe fetishising ... 

Notice the bed-hair?
What a flippin' disgrace!

The flour-less chocolate and almond mud cake was even more yummy as breakfast for the next two mornings in a row!
A couple of days later The Phoenix's ankle was still giving him some serious shite and luckily the hotel had an excellent wheelchair we could use so we went for a whirl around the city.

First stop, the Occupy Melbourne camp where we spent lots of time talking to people and getting to know some of the different issues people were campaigning for.

The following day, police encircled the camp and moved wire fencing in little by little until the protestors had only a couple of metres to move.

Of course, that's when the shit kicked off.

It was pretty bad as we'd met and talked with so many of the people we saw on the news being dragged away and they were genuinely passionate, highly-intelligent and peaceful people.

Calm before the storm.
The Melbourne camp was the first in Australia to be targeted by authorities.

Oh we is tired!!

The following morning I went for a walk for morning coffee and danish and enjoyed "losing" my way down alleys and newly-discovered tiny streets.

While waiting for the coffee to brew, I spied this pair of shops across the road.
I instantly longed for my darling dump-ring sister Helga to just appear out of nowhere, as the restaurant and "liberated" bookstore seemed an appropriate way to spend a couple of hours with the gorgeous hornbag.

This is Darryl - owner of De Mille Vintage - an outrageous vintage store on Crossley Street, where all the precious stock is in MINT condition.
Among his talents Darryl is a film and television art director and perfectionist and did all of the art direction (ie. everything you see except the the actors' wardrobes) in Season One of Kath and Kim.
We talked for about an hour about Italian films, his wild adventures on many sets around the world and current projects.
I was in heaven and believed for a while that I was so fabulous that I bought this 1940s heavy Czech glass green necklace and a men's top hat.
I was supposed to be buying coffee and pastries.

Next door was another shop with a totally different vibe - Madame Virtue.
I thought I was backstage at a fashion week runway show.
The shop was RAMMED with the most amazing clothes, which were flying around the room as a customer stood at the front door stripped off to her smalls, slipping on everything the owner Dean threw at her, with shrieks of excitement from them both.
Even the black Prada disc dress - drool ...
For me it was like watching a show ... nothing to buy but lots to perve over ... then I spotted a stack of vintage hats hiding in a basket near the front door.
A 1950s orange-striped straw hat beckoned and I caved.
Again.

Back at the hotel, here's what my dressing table looked like.
There's the top hat and green beads, orange striped beret, my beaded wedding bag, red sunnies from a shop in Fitzroy, lame bag and leopard-print bow-tie, both gifts from Helga.

So much vintage shopping naughtiness ... weeeeeeee!!!!

The feather vest was from Shag, which you may have seen in this disgraceful post.

 There's certainly nothing disgraceful about the woman in this lovely painting, one of many in The Hotel Windsor's lobby.

A rare peek out of our hotel room door.

And in honour of Darryl's talents, if I end up like this, feel free to boot me up the arse.

Wigglin' On Mah Weddin' Day

As soon as our eyes locked, we knew straight away something crazy-wonderful was in store for us both.
Two years and few months later, The Phoenix and I married with the blessing of my beautiful children and a darling friend, one glorious Melbourne spring day.

No matter how small the ceremony, everyone was in a bit of a happy, flappy flutter.
I can guarantee it helps if the bride's wearing vintage:).
And ... make the day simple!

I arrive with The Stylist, Number Three Son and Danni-Long-Legs.
An' ah got mah wiggle on baby!!!

 Outrageous cutenesses all kitted out and feelin' mighty fine:).

The savagely gorgeous Danni-Long-Legs who is Number One Son's precious.
She and The Stylist shared wedding photography duties - I told you it was a simple wedding.

We're in the waiting room of the beautiful, heritage-listed, Victorian Marriage Registry, awaiting the arrival of the groom and Number One and Two sons.
I guess you want to know what I'm wearing.
Better get around to the really important stuff then eh?

The 1950s pink and taupe lace dress with a satin sash and rosette felt perfect.
I couldn't have asked for a better wedding dress, I felt so comfortable and ME!
No meringue dresses allowed.
Oh did I mention shopping details?
eBay for sixty bucks - I swear!!
No adjustments needed, it fitted perfectly.
I've had the vintage tulle and velvet flower hair piece for a long time and have sported her in many blog pics before.
I knew she would get very squished on the flight from Bris-Vegas to Melbourne, but a quick steam over a kettle and the little darling was back on form.

The granny beads were from Etsy and the vintage marcasite earrings were a wedding present from The Phoenix.
What a darling!

Love this pic -  I've got the horn for my sparkly pink VW Melissa's with the bronze hearts AND Danni-Long Legs' super gorgeous heels.

I've practically lived in this 1940s fur cape for several winters and it was just the thing for a wee cover-up.
I bought the vintage tapestry beaded bag for $12 from Dandelion Vintage and chose to wear a wrist corsage as I wasn't keen on a posy.
Everyone wore white roses from The Flower Temple - again, no outlandish overdoing it, even so, the roses were enormous!!
Oh but where is the leopard-print? 
Leopard nail stickers of course!
Yeah I'm real "stoylish" that way.

 Gorgeous man has made it!

I'm sure this seemed the right thing to do at the time - so glad for this disgracefulness!

Let's put it this way ... when the spawn lined up for this pic, both The Phoenix and I were just incredulous that I'd given birth this many times - haaaaaaa!
Don't they all look so beautiful?
I know, I'm biased.
I gave them free reign to wear whatever they wanted and I'm so proud of the way they looked:)).

 Love me boys!
I did my own hair, nails and make up - can't be arsed with all that malarky.

 We done it!
That's Suzanne, the celebrant, who told us we could hang around for as long as we liked.

 Mmmm ... let's keep it clean for the kids but you just wait!

Yes, let's start breathing again.

 I'm sure these two belong on a magazine cover.

 Are my seams straight babe?

 He's quiet with a incredibly wicked sense of humour - my Number Two Son.

Yeah, we're having a bit of a boogie to My Vision by Seal with Jakarta.
We chose it and Robbie Williams' Beyond the Sea as our wedding songs.

 Oh honey, do you like my dress?

I have no idea where The Stylist got this posing-off business from.
Isn't her dress gorgeous?  
Grey satin with black velvet spots, purple sash and beading - delish:)).
Also, white faux-fur jacket and sparkly flats.

And she has good posy taste.

 Who needs words?

 We's are Mr and Mrs now.

The Hotel Windsor, seen in the background, was the chosen retreat for The Phoenix and I and is in view of the the registry office.  
Everyday I would press my nose to the window to watch subsequent wedding parties and check out what they wore;).

 Leaving the building for a walk in the park.
The Phoenix needed his walking stick as his right ankle - which is almost destroyed from life-long severe haemophilia joint bleeds - was giving him some horrendous trouble.

What's that yoof carrying? 
Super-sour candy mouth spray of course - ewwww have you tried that stuff?

This is Cook's Cottage, the childhood home of Captain James Cook, which was transported from England and re- erected in Fitzroy Park.

By this time, after all the walking, The Phoenix was almost passing out with pain from his ankle.
So we had a rest while the kids went nuts in the Cottage.

Always time for a kiss, we postponed further celebrations until the following evening to give that ankle some rest and special wife-y treatment.
To all you kind readers out there, thank you so very much for all your beautiful messages and comments.
We were both so touched and nearly in tears at the kindness from people all over the world who we've only known here in blog land.
Thank you beautiful darlinks, you all deserve a jolly firm arse-squeeze!
Desiree and The Phoenix xoxoxoxo