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this one summer

I came across This One Summer on The New Yorker today - it's a gorgeously produced graphic novel by Jillian and Mariko Tamaki. The way they've captured the lives and trials of their two starring characters, Rose and Windy, is effortless to look at but clearly researched and thought about to the n'th degree. Beautiful . . . as beautiful as being an angst-ridden, hormonal teenage girl can ever be. Visit Jillian Tamaki to see more.

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Hens Day Wednesday (say it out loud)

Hens Day Wednesday (say it out loud)

One sunny Wednesday in March saw me travel to Auckland to celebrate the upcoming marriage of my lovely friend tama. The brief: a non-trashy, nothing stupid, absolutely no strippers, super fun day for our lovely friends to enjoy. I'm lucky that in that circle of friends we count some amazingly talented and creative people, and looking at the photos (taken by Laura Morris, Napier's best amateur photographer) make me soooo happy. I think we did a wonderful job, and I think the beautiful bride thought so too.

 

baby cuddles all round from a special guest

the darragh girls in their flower garlands. after picnic and pimms we had a raucous dinner in the private room of Ponsonby's Sunday Painters.

craft hour

v. proud of my floral headpiece, I think I might have missed my calling. I'm wearing a dress by New Zealand designer Ingrid Starnes - I'd been saving it for a special occasion, it could not have been more perfect for a leisurely picnic in the sun.

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eye/ear candy

eye/ear candy

Researching (well, I started off researching, which quickly descended to google imaging hot rockstars), I came across this quote from The Guardian about one of my faaaavourite frontmen of all time, the incomparable Josh Homme:

'To be in a room with Josh Homme is to feel like a dog talking to a horse. A really intense horse. He's that much bigger, that much wilder, and with, you suspect, that much larger an appetite for hay. Homme, now 39, still 6'5", inked and stacked, is so infused with rock machismo that he emasculates his surroundings by proxy. You. The chair. Everything you say. Even the giant pot of coffee he's necking turns into something a squirrel might have had in Sylvanian Families. Yet he looks as if he's about to cry.' David Whitehouse

Amen, David. read the rest of his interview here.

j xx

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welcome!

a place for pretty things that inspire us, small pleasures, ponderings and behind-the-scenes glimpses from the heart of aida maeby.

stay tuned!

j xx

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