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What a week what a very big week, and with the name of the day being Patsyfox, it seems just a tad ironic that I haven’t managed to post – aaargh! But here’s my late pass: From the...
I was proposed to once. Thought it was a joke and fell off my stool/dropped the phone laughing. Apparently this is not the correct behaviour in such situations. I was never forgiven. It’s O...
Gimme a deadline, any deadline, and I’ll slide under the gate as it’s closing to deliver whatever it is I’ve just finished, after having procrastinated until the night before. Do I...
There’s nothing quite like having a friend who’s working on a Ph.D. living next door, when you are working from home. Cup of tea? Great. Oh look – it’s 6 o’clock ̵...
Just when you thought it couldn’t get more exciting – or more self-promoting – around here, it does: I give you The Patsyfox Drawing Salon. Launching during the L’Oreal Melb...
Geez, has it really been a year that I’ve been sitting here late at night eating wasabi peas and drinking brandy? Apparently so, because next week I celebrate the first birthday of Patsyfox wi...
I have a pitifully small collection of Vivienne Westwood garments, and god knows I don’t seem to be the shape they’re designed for – I need to be 5 inches taller and 2 cups bigger, ...
I’m a fan of the back-up plan, a big fan. I’ve had a spare cyan cartridge sitting on the shelf since the first of the 24 months my printer’s been saying it needed it soon. So imag...
Anyone who knows me knows how rarely I’m lost for words, even when I should be. However the death of Alexander McQueen last week has left my fingers still on the keypad. Suffice to say, sadder ...
Given that Jaclyn yesterday cut her long black hair off into a Louise Brooks/Uma-Pulp-Fiction style bob – a move I would have deliberated over longer than she’s been alive – I was p...
In an indirect way, I could kind of attribute my career choice of fashion design to knitting. As soon as I was old enough to hold knitting needles I insisted my mother taught me to knit so I could j...
As with anything you yourself do, you can bet the house that no-one you know will ever do it for you. As such, my walls are bereft of portraits of me, and my wardrobe without any clothes made especi...
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