hello, I live here

Arriving at Paris in the dead of night doesn't quite seem fair. You're cheated of breakfasts, of cups of coffee, of sight-seeing till your feet are sore, of craning your neck to look at art, of bottles of wine finished before the sun even thinks of setting (and this is winter!), of sneaky cigarettes, of having three course meals that never seem to end, of running to the metro to catch the last train. But one thing that you do get is this, all lit up light a Christmas tree, every night of the year. And that makes it all worthwhile. Some people - like Petrovsky's daughter in SATC, think that it's "hideous, hideous, hideous"- but me? Well, I feel just like this.

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Express

Louis Vuitton x The Selby

The next time I'm in Europe I'm going to catch trains, I'm going to catch lots of trains, and I'll just have a couple of Louis Vuitton duffel bags with me, and they'll all be full of books - books and oatmeal-coloured sweaters - and I'll lean back into those velvet chesterfield seats and drink a vodka martini, or better yet, a tall, cold glass of Maker's Mark and Apple Juice and I'll eat delicious things from gilded plates and watch the sunset from square windows and sleep in a tiny nook and wrap cashmere around me always and I'll have coffee in Munich and lunch in Brussels and dinner in Paris and oh, how wonderful it's going to be!

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gone fishing

Vaness Jackman

I'm off to the country again this weekend (man, I could really get used to these mini-break vaycays). And I actually need this little holiday. I can't wait to have big fry-up breakfasts, sit by the fire, catch up with friends and forget all about Sydney. See you soon! 

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to catch a train

When planning my forthcoming European trip I have realised that I am going to live out a childhood dream of mine. To catch trains across Europe. I love trains - not the crowded, smelly city types, though. I'm talking about long train rides where you can take 3 magazines and 2 books and read them cover to cover and listen to some vibey tunes (or even, maybe not), and look out the window and marvel at a world rushing by in a watercolour blur. The train down the South Coast of Australia is one of the most spectacular I've ever been on. Amidst masses of countries - of cattle and sheep and spindly eucalyptus trees - suddenly emerges this azure blue sea, sparkling and shining. It's spectacular, to say the absolute least. I've always wanted to catch trains across Europe. To hop on the 8:00 at Gare de Lyon and end up in Geneva in time for lunch. It's that great brown land thing - it's remarkable to me that you can travel for 3 hours and end up in another country. In Australia you can travel for three hours and still be in the same state. 

Whenever I think about trains I think about this editorial from Vogue UK December 2005. It was the first editorial that I ever loved, the first one that I ripped out and pasted on my walls, the first one that I looked at and thought - this is what fashion is all about. Telling stories, conjuring up moods, exotic locations and that aspirational quality that takes fashion beyond mere photography. When does a photograph of a girl in clothes become a fashion one? When you see that girl and you want to wear those clothes, be that girl. I wanted to be Rie Rasmussen - oh! I really did - and travel the trans-siberian express and eat caviar on toast every day and wear scarlet head to toe and play football with kids during a cigarette stop. Who knows where I'll be getting trains from when i'm in Europe this february - or where to. Maybe Venice, maybe Zurich, maybe Florence, maybe Copenhagen. To tell you the truth, it doesn't really matter. Because the minute I stand at that ticket booth I'll know where I want to go. And the train will take me there with just enough time to sit and think on the way.

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