Last week I was having a pretty bad few days, I wasn’t sleeping, I was stressed about a complicated series of projects and I just couldn’t wait to run away to the hair salon and lose myself in the chair! Yes, the dark circles under my eyes are real! I got majorly stuck in traffic en route to the salon and ended up being 30 mins late – which I hate. I find it disrespectful to my stylist and I know it totally stuffs their day, but my colourist was great and as I put my head down to continue to catch up on emails she foiled like a demon and made up my lost time. Note to self: NEVER try and travel through school traffic to ANYWHERE, that shit is serious! When at last she was done, I sank into the chair and as the colour processed scrolled through about 14 hours of my twitter feed. When I saw there was a spare double pass for a movie that night I cursed myself for my shitty day and not checking earlier. Like, about 5 hours earlier when it was posted! I couldn’t believe that I actually got a response to my off-handed tweet to the lovely Nuffnang peeps offering to claim the ticket that, 1. yes it was still available and, 2. it was MINE! I squealed so loud that my stylist thought I’d burnt myself on the overhead heater thingie! So I asked him if I could be done soon as I needed to leave in the next 45 mins if I was to make it on time. He’s Italian, he tells lots of stories (normally the same ones, day in, day out) and uses his hands. Like, a lot. A few times I had to say to him, ‘less talk, more cut! I gotta get outta here!’ But bless him, I was done in record time. I sent a text to my movie GBFF Gazilla and invited him, but he rang me (sounding like a drag queen) and said, ‘I’ve got man-flu. You gave it to me via sms.’ After explaining that that was a bullshit concept and that he was, in fact, a shit friend we agreed that his people would call my people when he was feeling better and left it at that.
So off I went to gold class, my old loverrrr, to be greeted by free booze on arrival – huzzah! If only I’d remembered to actually eat something more substantial that day I could have enjoyed some. Alas, I chose mineral water. Street cred rapidly approaching zero…
I got chatting to the lovely ladies next to me and they were sisters, one who wrote a running blog and the other whose blog is an outlet and support for others with a special needs child, like hers. Before long we were ushered into the Gold Class mother-ship and settled in to watch the Oscar award winning film, ‘The Artist’ to celebrate its launch on DVD (which we also scored!). God I love Gold Class!! The seats, the blankies, the table service, you can have booze – and cake!! I could live there.
Did I mention it was a silent film? Yup. It challenged the senses in every way, but the simplicity of the story and the purity of the film making was a true gift. As I said, I’d had a crap week and my mind was all over the place. In the opening scenes I got easily irritated by the female lead’s dress sailor collar that kept flapping in the wind. And then I kept thinking of all the poor Fairfax employees with every newspaper reference – whoops!
Eventually she changed into something sparkly, and then I got distracted by all the 1920′s sparkly gowns. I do that. Get distracted by sparkles. In fact, everyone in the film dressed so darn dapper. Note to self, dress less like a dag at work. Before too long I realised that I was in fact starving and proceeded to inhale my (free – fist puuump) popcorn dinner. That shut my wandering brain up for a bit.
More than once I was reminded of how I wish I had a job where I could take my dogs to work. Sigh. There’s that distracted brain again…
The costuming was just divine! Did I mention I am a TOTAL sucker for 1920′s and 1930′s inspired pieces? The fur collars in this, so on-trend right now! Oh hey, I tooootally need a Pinterest board for that, right?
I’m not gonna lie, at times the lack of audible dialogue made the story a little hard to follow. At one point I didn’t know if his stuff sold for 5 bucks or 500. But I guess the ambiguity was part of the point. Must concentrate harder in silent films… Ooh, get another job. More Fairfax references.
Without giving it away, this bit deals with ego on a number of levels. But all I could think was, ‘dude, you’re sooooo not getting your bond back on that place!’
Urgh, another metaphor for my week. Running up and down stairs, like a lunatic, and getting nowhere! Going into the film I had mixed views, I thought I couldn’t be arsed with the concentration required for a silent film. But my movie bestie, Gazilla, insisted it was a delightful film and that I’d enjoy it. He was totally right.
- Inspired, with jazz hands!
- Motivated, like riding a unicorn!
- Like I need a nap
- Indifferent, like butter vs margarine
- Less words, more pictures/ interpretive dance