on the list



At the moment I'm drawing up a list for my must-visit, must-see, must-enjoy places to go in New York, and even before seeing these beautiful pictures on Garance's blog, Mast Brothers Chocolate was on it. I remember seeing it first on kinfolk maybe and feeling a slow smile spread honey-like across my face. This is how chocolate should be, simple and fun and full of life. It reminded me of my favourite chocolate, Mazet, from Montargis in Paris, just good, creamy chocolate flecked through with a bit of something nice, like salted caramel or almonds pralines, or - hark! sour cherry. I know I'm going to love Mast Brothers just from seeing the packaging, and I think these will make the perfect presents for my family back in Sydney - cranberry for my brothers, some kind of toffee/caramel number for mum, and dark dark dark with a hint of coffee for dad.

I'm still working on that list, even as we speak. If anyone has any must-visit cafes, restaurants, bars and shops, or even cute little parks, nice quiet museums and places to rest your weary feet after a day of soaking in the city - let me know! Leave a comment or send me an email, I'd love to hear your recommendations.

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toasty, mach 3




So I'm doing this. Again. For the second time... you know what I mean. I took a nice woolen Isabel coat, and then I added my Carly Hunter shearling vest and my Benah cashmere scarf that's longer than a metre ruler (always the stock standard WOAH measurement when you were a kid with vegemite teeth and bruised elbows and you wanted to impress, not much has changed, eh?) and I'm all wrapped up and ready to go. I think this is my favourite of all the toasty variations, but it's definitely too warm for Sydney weather (unless we have a cold snap this winter, fingers crossed please please PLEASE!). This is a dress rehearsal for New York, where I fear sub-zero temperatures are going to force the shearling layer out almost every day. Hey, I'm not complaining. I love the cold, remember? And I love the shearling (happy Austraya day, didn't you know we antipodeans love our sheep?). Another thing I love? The bay window in my hotel room. When I'm not at my grandparents I've been sitting on it and reading, drinking green tea and watching that Hong Kong bustle go by. It's nice.

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sneak peek: dear lovers



Love love, love love love. Who doesn't love it? Who doesn't love staying up late to watch Notting Hill, or Pretty in Pink, or Out of Africa? Well the last one might be just me, but still. That's why I love Valentine's Day. I love listening to this, and this, and reading Persuasion and Eucalyptus and Circle of Friends and Brideshead Revisited and all of that good stuff and love is the drug, you know? I mused on love and valentine's day (and shared The Corner Shop's exciting love-themed installatino this month) and had a little look at the incredible jordan askill rings in my latest post for The Corner Shop.

Check it out in full here.

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it's shocking

“Eventually Fox coaches Rusty back out onto the highway which climbs into the Opthalmia Ranges whose bluffs and peaks and mesas rise crimson, black, burgundy, terracotta, orange against the cloudless sky. Gully shadows are purple up there and the rugged layers of iron lie dotted with a greenish furze of spinifex. You sense hidden rivers. Your ears pop with altitude. Closer to the road, on scree slopes the colour of dry blood, the smooth white trunks of snappy gums suspend crowns of leaves so green it’s shocking. Mobs of white cockatoos explode from their boughs. The colours burn in his head. Wide bends reveal the country behind darkened by the shadows of late afternoon. Fox feels his head slump back on his neck. He comes from low, dry, austere country, limestone and sand and grasstrees. Apart from the sea itself the only majestic points at home are the sculpted dunes. Even the graceful tuart tree seems dowdy up here.” 

Tim Winton, Dirt Music



One Easter break I went to stay with my friend who lives in Tumut, a country town in South West New South Wales. There were three of us city girls going, and they’d all travelled together on the “boarders’ bus”, an unlikely sort of community which ferried country kids back to their hearth and home once the school holidays began. I had to stay back in Sydney for a few days so I met them by plane, a measly one rickety hour or so to Wagga Wagga – so good they named it twice! – and then the short drive to her place, perched on a hill and surrounded by green just outside of Tumut. Those four days were blissful in the way that school holidays can only be. We rode tandem bikes and watched Centre Stage and drank milo till it made us sick. We reveled in endless, circuitous games of monopoly and staying up as late as we could, prank calling pesky ex boyfriends and chatting about everything and nothing until, eyes heavy and drunk with sleep we drifted off in turns, each gamely feigning alertness. In the mornings we pattered out to the kitchen and clambered up onto high stools, awaiting whatever cooked thing would emerge, steamy and hot and delicious from the linoleum kitchen of her epicurean mother. 

On a lazy Thursday we went for a picnic in a hilly grove that could be only be reached by a steep climb through a thick forest that was swollen with green, somehow made more lovely because this bit of earth didn't belong to us. Saturated tourist placards proclaimed that this was one of the oldest woodland growths in the area. All we cared about was that these were the kinds of trees fairies lived in. Tall-trunked, thick-leaved and with branches that were long and coltish like the legs of a baby deer. Perfect. And so tall! Rising high from a blanket of fallen leaves browned with age and decrepitude there is, and could be, no more perfect place to picnic, no more perfect place for a teenager to sit down and feast upon cut ham and soft cheese and flasks full of home-made ice tea. It was something out of an Enid Blyton novel. That day we were smothered by green – it was above us and below us and around us and on us, on our coats and scarves and sweaters and cargo pants. We had mint in our tea and lettuce on our sandwiches and bunches of grapes in our esky. And, when we lay out flat on the rug, arms laced behind our heads, we looked up and saw green. It was peaceful. Isn’t that what green represents, anyhow? 

When I thought about it today, I’m a bit smothered by peaceful green at the moment too. On my Thursday Sunday sweater which I’ve been wearing non stop to keep me toasty in the unexpected chill of Hong Kong. In my scent and my bath, figs and geranium leaf all round. All throughout the book I’m reading – Dirt Music for a class on Australian literature at uni – beautiful and haunting and true. Regarding the boots I’ve finally – finally! – purchased and added to my life, crossing another thing off my winter wardrobe planning list. Maybe the real reason I've been wearing (and acquiring!) so much green is that it goes so well with red, which is everywhere in Hong Kong at the moment. Kung Hei Fat Choi! 

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sneak peek: longing to stray


Everyone is so happy that I'm going to New York - not the least me - but also the girls at The Corner Shop. Look how they smile! In my latest post for their blog I reminisce about that amazing city and style up some of my favourite New York labels on my trusty model Katrina. It's up on their blog now - and I'll be in Hong Kong, eating my body weight in San Chow Bau and celebrating Chinese New Year with my family, and then I'll be off to the city that never sleeps. If only I had a wardrobe of Phillip Lim, Helmut Lang, Current/Elliot and Theysken's Theory to accompany me!

Check out the entire post here.

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how funny you are today new york


1: me, 2-4: Nidhi



The last time I was in New York my flight was the last plane that arrived at JFK before they shut the airport for three days. The city was being ravaged by a blistering, bone-chilling blizzard that meant that The Row's samples never made it in time for their show and that Marc Jacobs had to move their alotted catwalk slot to later in the week. In other, non fashion related news, the city was covered in a blanket of white and the subway shut down and people closed their doors to the cold. As I arrived at my friend's house blanketed and wrapped up and red-nosed, I remember looking around me at her street, her beautiful brooklyn street, and seeing the snow fall and the quiet of the white and the softness, the real softness of the air and I remember falling silent. I put my suitcase down and I sat on it for a moment and looked around. It was 5 in the morning and yes, all streets are quiet and still at 5 in the morning, but this was a beautiful, haunting, ethereal stillness. It was a stillness that I felt could last forever, even when the snow melted and turned to slush, even when the subways started again and the shops opened and the restaurants turned on their lights I felt the stillness all around me. Even in the city that never sleeps, I felt still. 

I can't wait to be back. I'm off today. I will update as much as I can, and promise to take loads of pictures for when I come back. Thank you so much to all my new followers and all my faithful readers - I swear to have many new stories when I come back. Check my twitter and instagram (@hannahroserose) for more regular updates. And until then, here's some Frank O'Hara, who is one of those perfect American poets that says exactly what he means and means exactly what he says.




New York, I love you.

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flour and stone



After first seeing Flour and Stone on one of my favourite tumblrs - and after getting over my fear of eating cakes that don't come from the patisserie at the foot of my street (what! french people just know how to make a croissant, okay) - I decided to cross William Street and venture into the canals of woolloomooloo in search of coffee and cookies and such things. I wasn't disappointed and I had a really lovely time talking to the shop girl about the merits of ginger in baked goods (I wanted to pass on the recipe for that amazing ginger cake I made the other day) and how we both needed to wake up properly (it was bright and early and my coffee was being made and I said "tray" instead of "bag", it was a little embarassing). 

I loved the relaxed, easy-going atmosphere of this tiny cafe, where the salesgirl ran out to give a customer some macarons so that he didn't have to leave his kids alone in the car and that she took the time to talk me through each of the cakes on offer, which ones were her favourite, and to warn me that in 15 minutes lamingtons would be coming out and I better brace myself for an onslaught of deliciousness. I left with some of their famous gingerbread and a buttermilk, chocolate and raspberry cake for my mum, and I'll definitely be going back again to try that Ginger Iced Tea and that famous fine apple tart. And maybe the carrot cake. And maybe the lamb pies. And maybe the sandwiches. And maybe the lamingtons.

Flour and Stone, 53 Riley Street, Woolloomooloo.

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I am Ashley Olsen



The transformation between my boring, non-anklet wearing self to, well, Ashley Olsen, is complete. And, you know, what starts with a single pair of delicate be-charmed Petite Grand for My Chameleon anklets will hopefully end in a crocodile backpack - as all good things in life should. Finally! Finally tight jersey midi skirts and oversized tee shirts and watermelon-coloured suiting and straight leg jeans and big-old-acne shirts will look complete! Finally I have my ultimate piece of jewellery, the one thing to bring everything together, the one thing that will make everything in my wardrobe work. I haven't stopped wearing them for three days - tapered pants, jersey skirts, drapey tops, baggy chinos - and they look good with EVERYTHING. And I literally mean EVERYTHING. This is a wardrobe revolution. I'm never going back to non-anklet clad feet. Never. What I love most about them are how they are the perfect mix of a beachy, nonchalant, criminally insouciant vibe and a little pinch of grown up glamour. These aren't the anklets you wove with your best friend, salt-water hair and sun-drenched skin and all on a beach when you were young. These are the kind of anklets you would wear with stilettos, if you were so persuaded, and a tight-as-anything leather pencil skirt to a business meeting.

Anklets - you complete me.

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a lazy sydney day



My ideal Sydney day? Well. The other day I hung out with my friend Carmen, who shared my birthday party with me and just returned from a jet-setting European Grand Tour and is the best person to have a lady date with, really. We had brunch at Youeni and then a casual stroll down Oxford Street and through the city to The Corner Shop, where we had a bit of fun playing dress ups (see the result here!) and we chatted with our friend Sam, who was looking incredibly stylish in Isabel Marant Dicker boots (oh! get in my life now, please!).  After that I wandered home, picked up some flowers and read for a little, before setting out to Surry Hills for a 21st that carried way on into the night. That is quite a perfect Sydney day to me!

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blocks

images: ztylistas, lagarconne, celine prefall 2012, decade diary, portable, mandatory alexa chung picture



I, too, like Natalie, am waiting on the postman to knock on my door and proffer my Thursday Sunday sweater. I, too, like Natalie (incidentally that is one of my favourite "likes" if anyone was interested in my opinion), dream of the days where I can sit on the floor and drink red wine, smoke cigarettes while my nose gets cold and read books with a slice of ginger cake in my new sweater. I am dreaming of the days - soon, so soon! - where I can snuggle up in this sweater, watching the snow fall out my window after a day spent roaming Cobble Hill. I am dreaming of the days where uni blues will be completely, wholly washed away as I slip into this sweater, pop my lecture notes, copious biros and a crisp green-as-you-like-it apple into my bag and start walking up my street to the bus stop. How long have I wanted it! How damn long! And finally it's on its way, and it's almost, almost mine, and I can cross the first thing off my winter wardrobe planning list - which I engineered so that it would be on it since I wrote the list after I knew I was buying the sweater! It's my list, and I'll cheat if I want to...

I have to be dead honest with you, colour blocking was not something I ever thought I would get involved in. Neutral blocking maybe, but colour blocking? Well, I guess in its own small way this is how I can adapt colour blocking to my wardrobe, how I can take this trend head on and give it a little hannah-rose spin. I love the bulky, murky tones of the Alexander Wang cardigan, which is so big you could probably fit an extra person in there if you wanted, very handy on cold days. I like the fact that all these sweaters are colour blocking with neutrals - my favourite kinds of colours - lots of grey and black with just that little pop of colour to keep the eye trained. Mustard, blue, khaki, poppy red. Colour blocking or two-tone is the perfect update from the block colours of previous seasons, which means that you can keep old styles and just tweak them, subtly for the now. This idea is one that definitely applies to my wardrobe. Everything is a subtle tweak on what came before.

I think what I like most about my sweater is its slouch. I love the big sleeves that end at bracelet length (I think it should be mandatory that all clothes end at bracelet length, thoughts?) and I love that haphazard zig zag that runs across the front. It's not perfect, which makes it better, and it's a nice point of difference. This sweater is so big! Fantastic! That's exactly how I like it. You could make a risotto in this sweater, with the sleeves rolled up, sitting on a wooden stool with The Tree of Man or something in one hand and a slotted spoon in the other, stirring, stirring, stirring. I'm going to let you in on a secret, I think I judge all my clothing based on whether you could make a risotto in it. There are a surprising amount that fail this test. Okay. I'm ready for this sweater to arrive now. Mr Postman??

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chilly



GOD how excited am I to dress like this in a mere 6 days! In 6 days I'll be able to get out my ankle boots and woollen coats, my shearling vest and oversized parkas, my cashmere scarves and knitted gloves, my cosy sweaters and thick jeans, my long sleeve shirts and warm toppers. GOD how excited am I to be in New York? Seriously if I don't stop thinking about it, and about wearing winter clothes, and about being cold, and about drinking so much coffee, and eating so many steaming bowls of soups, I think I'm going to explode. 

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sneak peek: wild at heart



Last week I had a first look at the new 3.1 Phillip Lim that has just arrive at The Corner Shop Strand Arcade, and oh my, is it good. There's a lot of bright colours and cute, Alexa-esque flat sandals and cosy knits and, well... an amazing leopard-print pyjama suit that everyone kind of went a little bit crazy for. So wrong it's right? So awful it's delightful? Or just plain amazing? You decide.

Check out this post for The Corner Shop here.

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wrapped up


I'm cosying up with a big shawl and a stripey tee shirt and a cup of tea and listening to the rain and listening to this

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ps. is anyone else ridiculously excited for the golden globes? just me? okay then...
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things I love


“These things I love – neutral tones, the more washed out the better. Simplicity distilled into an ice blue Bassike tee shirt, or an oatmeal colour COS sweater. Who could ever choose brights over the beauty of beige? Céline bags are the height of luxury! I am lucky enough to have two in my life, both the products of long and arduous pilgrimages across Paris, both the most elegant things I own, and both reminders of perfect moments in my life where I was gloriously, unashamedly happy. Gold accents which glint from my person, a blinging Michael Kors rose gold watch which shouldn’t work but does, or Benah cuffs, bold and brash, and eye-catching. I’m such a gold girl at heart – I love anything with a bit of that summery shimmer, like honeyed limbs and sticky toffee and brushed gold hardware. Delicate jewellery is my obsession. At the moment I’ve been wearing thin rings doubled up or above my knuckle as memory rings. I also take to layering slip-of-a-thing bracelets like this Van Rycke bead and cord number, or the BRVTVS julia bracelet which I wanted for so long and will always remind me of my friends. Sometimes just wearing one piece of jewellery is even better, like a single Me & Ro necklace with a teeny, tiny, barely-there pendant. Sandals, flat, so flat, forever flat sandals. I am infamous for wearing sandals all year round – even in winter – because I love them so much and I just can’t let go. Just look at these K.Jacques? How could you pack them away, even when it starts to turn cold, how could you?”


One other thing that I love - Jessie. I love how smiley and happy she is, even when we're both really confused about something, I love how collusive she is with me in the need to spend money on unimportant yet totally wonderful things like Celine and Acne, I love how she doesn't mind when I mimic her (adorable) accent and call her "Jissy", I love how she'll have a coffee or a juice or a beer with me, I love how she has like a million girl crushes and is happy to share them all with the interwebs, I love how we only met at RAFW and yet we've become such fast friends, and I love how she can call me up and ask to come over and take some photos of my stuff and how a few calm if slightly hungover (me, not her!) minutes at my house can turn into this because oh my, is she one talented thing.

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the search continues...

the sartorialist


Am I ever going to get that perfect hat? Well, Am I? How long is it going to take? Is it too much to ask for a stiff-brimmed felt number, wide enough to go low over my brow or perch above my bun? I know I have a big head (physically speaking of course) but COME ON this is getting ridiculous! Every hat I've tried on doesn't fit! Is there something wrong with me? Or, in a fashion version of the perennial chicken-and-egg dilemma, is there something wrong with the hats? I still dream of a day, winter or summer, cold or hot, where I can perch a hat on my head and hide under it and call it a day. No-one would care what you were wearing if you had a spectacular hat on your head! Isn't that called the Candice Lake effect?? When can I experience that effect for myself? Well, WHEN?

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sneak peek: oh isabel!



You all know I love Isabel Marant. And, in Australia, one of the places where I can feed my obsession is The Corner Shop. In my second post for their blog I preview the just-dropped-into-store, hot-off-the-steaming-press Etoile collection, which includes beautiful distressed knitwear, printed dresses and boxy coats galore. It was very fun to play dress ups at the Corner Shop the other day, and thanks to the lovely Katrina for letting me style the clothes on her - she was the perfect model!

Check out this post for The Corner Shop here

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a thing



Look, I really hate to labour the point, but doesn't Marina Munoz look great in that anklet and with bright red nail polish on her toes and fingers (note to self: vampy nail polish ASAP)? Didn't I tell you anklets were a thing? Didn't I?

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ps. still dreaming of a pair of these ones, charmed and charming and just bohemian enough, you know?
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