I've often wondered if I was born in the wrong era.
I probably wasn't. I don't know if I would be able to live in a decade with no internet or no electric kettle. And just imagine having to grow up in a decade that had not yet experienced the wonders of Harry Potter! Preposterous. But sometimes it's fun to pretend. Sometimes, its fun to totally immerse yourself in a different time. It's probably a form of escapism.
Last night, I accompanied a group of eccentrics to Northbridge in cocktail attire. I tried to go as Ingrid Bergman, but not being blonde haired, blue eyed and... well, you know, European... it was somewhat more of an interpretation than an imitation. And boy, does that red lipstick take a lot of maintenance!
The place we went to could have been (in the words of one of the attendees) anywhere in the world. We could have been sitting on antique couches in the converted shed cafe in London, in Paris, in Prague, in Venice... although I strongly doubt that the waiters in places like that would wear their designer underwear sticking so far out of their pants, but you never know.
The photo is me and my best friend pretending to be characters from Cluedo. Miss Scarlet and Professor Plum, in all their sartorial goodness. Image by Rui Tan.
It was a good night. I should get out more often, but from the looks of things, July won't be a good month for it. I've signed up to do julnowrimo at the request of a Uni friend; it looks to be a cheap knock off of Nanowrimo, so in the spirit of doing things half-arsed, I've only committed to writing 50 000 words on the edit of The Compound.
... and yes, this post was named after my favourite The Cure song.