Monday morning

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We met at about 930am on a Monday morning which was too early, like 5 hours too early if you're operating on New York time, to see the "long lines of Sigerson Morrison addicts, mustachioed artistes" & Nolita fashpack strut the sidewalks of Mott Street...but don't you worry, I saw the appeal of this highly recommended French-Moroccan inspired cafe none the less.
I don't think I'll ever be able to think of this place and not feel the corners of my mouth curl up as I replay the scene of me not-so-elegantly dabbing excess lemon juice from my avocado on 7 grain toast to a napkin between each bite, and stifling my giggles so not to attract the attention of the rather snooty waitresses (sorry - I know they're probably just bitter that they have a day job and have to wear rather shapeless muck green skirts...much like myself as I angrily muddle limes Fri-Sun). Oh and Hannahs too big for the plate toast (baguette)...that also made us laugh.

Cafe Gitane 242 Mott Street (between Houston & Prince), New York.

Photos: Rachel Kara

Pucci pants

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Have been waiting for an appropriate break from my own travel rants with Valentines posts, end of summer posts, pastel posts, ballet posts all lined up (in my head) but nothing quite kicked off.
But hey, here we are a week later so erm cheers to a continued increase in blog consistency for 2012!
When I returned home my (two copies of) Russh were waiting for me and what a lovely time I had this afternoon catching up sprawled lazilly across my afternoon-sun drenched bed. Almost as lovely as my 3pm 'chaser' nap.
The whole editorial is loose and delicate with such gorgeous tones and perfect shot selections I just wanted to eat the whole thing up with my eyes - which I actually think was quite succesful as I sit here typing in a white box seeing skinny arms, blue paint peeling walls, white, enviable mid length hair and natural rosy lips repeating on me. I have been particularly captivated by that midriff bearing shot with the white sheer, lace, embroided, beaded (don't know if all of those adjectives actually apply in real life but it's what I'm seeing so yeah) Pucci bra & pants.
Russh has been a part of my life, and probably one of my most significant visual influencers, for 7 years. I feel like with each change of team comes a change in the pages that I turn...but I'm ok with that. It's still Everlasting Love [Issue 44].

Editoiral: Small Flowers Crack Concrete by Hugh Lippe for Russh

Photos: Rachel Kara

go on

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I'm about to loose my shiatsu at the way that either Photoshop, Photobucket or Blogspot is messing with my nice warm contrasty images and swapping them with flat, green toned blobs of mess.

Without any further ado I will continue with the documentation of my whirlwind few NYC days, and then maybe even revisit the spectacular afternoon I spent photographing Whistler/Blackcombe peaks, I can't have walked home crying in pain because of my hypothermic toes for nothing, right?

Wait one more further ado...
ETA: I have just been given a geography lesson and learnt that Brooklyn isn't another 'suburb' as I believed it was in my head, it's actually a burrow or something like that and Williamsburg is simply within that. Perhaps when I say we went from W'burg to Brooklyn I mean Bushwick? Ugh. I don't even know but yes I feel like a dick and thought rather than retracing my words and trying to make sense I would just like to preface any geographical reference in my writings with a big clueless note to make you aware that I am aware of my shortcomings

Have I mentioned how much I loved being over the bridge away from Manhattan that Sunday? To the greater world I feel like Williamsburg & Brooklyn had either been embraced, or perhaps more so written off, as a hispsters playground (probably much like Surry Hills or Darlinghurst would be in Sydney to a lesser extent - and come on where do we all find ourselves drawn to when it's time to meet for a coffee, a drink, a stroll, a quick vintage scour?) but found all that really means is that a newer established or transformed area (thanks urban sprawl) can leave the 'cool' room to breathe and space to be discovered rather than shoved down our beady & ever hungry throats and eyes. I loved the wider streets, the slower pace at which I walked, the lack of high rise, the smaller stores. I lost that sickening feeling of over consumption that had washed over me as I walked into the department-store-sized stand alone stores of Broadway earlier that morning.

The flowers on the corners are my favourite. I would like to strike off the record that I asked if the leaves are bred to be all shades of deep purple, aqua, blue etc. Erm no Rachel, I'm pretty sure they're dyed. Right, yeah, obviously.

If it hadn't been for the few too many people in Catbird creating some bump and grind space issues I'm sure I would have spent half my day undoing each and everyone of the cabinets, taking pictures and writing my wish list. Literally though, a few people in the teeny tiny gem packed store is all it takes to make or break your viewing pleasure, but that's what I loved. Speaking of love, if my love ever happens to want to buy me a special ring I am directing him here. I did buy myself a little something which makes me happy every time I look down and see it's delicate silver, arrow self looped around my finger. I'll show you someday.
From here some time was spent browsing a store where the perfect Acne jeans are the same price as back home so put back on the shelf (sad face) and a certain casual, cotton, free spirited, Isabel Marant peasant blouse made me want to pack up and transform my whole life wardrobe. The day was just so lovely that I didn't even mind when we windled time away in a vintage mecca looking for the perfect raglan tee and came out empty handed. Don't you sometimes get genuinly upset & angsty when what you are looking for is so simple but just not presenting itself to you?

My apetite was raging a little by now so we hopped on the Subway with Hannah promising me brownstones and bagels in her part of Brooklyn before the Superbowl kicked off. The bagel place was shut which is why, when & how the above classic pizza joint presented itself as the perfect pre dinner, post shopping snack. Let me tell you, my bagel craving sadness passed pretty quickly.

I have written too much so I will not spend time closing this nicely and narratively. Until next time......


x



Photos: Rachel Kara

white on

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Clearly I am just another small speck in the mass of photographers, bloggers, fellow models and just about everyone else who crosses Hanneli Mustapartas path to have one not-so-small heart warming crush on her. I still remember how she and I shared the same grey Acne tank back in 2009...and I posted about it, of course.
I am loving the few white on white street style snaps I have come across from New York Fashion Week. Glacier colours look as fresh as ever when they are put in a New York kinda context.

This one may lack the crisp edge that Miss Mustaparta pulled out of the cupboard and if I'm going to turn this around and make it about me, which I will, can relate to more with the softer silhouette, cream tones, thrown together, I actually want to be warm, comfortable, practical, no name appeal.

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Photos: Hanneli, Tommy Ton for style.com, The Sartorlialist


over the bridge

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Blue Bottle Coffee Berry St, Williamsburg - as recommended by every coffee educated Australian living in New York I knew. The line was long but passed quickly as me & Hannah caught up on the basics of how we came to be in New York at the same time, I ordered my Ethiopean drip (sweet-tart easy to sip slowly coffee that feels much like tea in your mouth) as we continued to talk about having babies, not having babies, brunch menus, shopping priorites etc.
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The infamous Mast Brothers made known to me via the Selby some many months ago was on my must do list. I sampled a fair few (probably all) varieties of dark chocolate available and settled on Conacado as a favourite with "notes of fresh cherries, molasses and strawberries". Ya-um! I bought 5 blocks (tasting notes will follow in due time) and used all my will power to not cave for 'todays taste menu'...saving room for an afternoon bagel you see.
I watched the man in the store fold up the pretty as wallpaper packaging around one of those dark smooth rectangles in a quiet moment and felt warm on the inside knowing how much love was in each block.

That day is still not over, nb: we're still on the 11st cafe day, so I will save the rest for tomorrows viewing.

What's everyone's latest and greatest food/coffee finds?

x

rolling

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The respect I have for people who keep up to date with editing and posting whilst on holidays is pretty big right now. With the excuse of 3 children under my care I am going to save time on writing out my excuses coughcough skip through a whole 2 weeks of pure, beautiful, powdery snow and land you here with me in New York, New York.

We landed at 2am - got to our Chelsea apartment at 5am, didn't get to sleep til 7am and I was up at 9am so as hard as I try, I truly don't remember too much of how I got to 11th Street Cafe but I do remember the sweet satisfaction of making the effort as soon as I was gobbling down the tastiest (well, equal tastiest with youeni provides) scrambled eggs I have ever eaten. Swiss cheese, tomato, avocado, hold on the chives. They didn't even come with toast and yes before you vomit at the thought of eggs without toast you would need to try them. In saying that, the friendly owner - seen above in the hat - who calls every woman in the shop darling or sweetheart did bring me some fresh baguette close to when I had already finished which I think I heard him saying they bake themselves...but don't quote me on that.
The cafe and never ending line seemed to be filled with West Village locals who come to get what they want on a Sunday morning; food, coffee, a read of the paper and a cosy seat in the sunshine if you happen to get lucky and walk through the door just as someones getting up. I kept hearing about the 'scene' of Sunday brunch in New York but I appreciated, especially with the dark circles under my eyes and dirty hair hidden under a beanie, that this little place was lacking in scene but making up for it in understated charm and character.

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I have been eating and walking and looking in the occasional shop and got to oh so casually meet up with Hannah Rose and do some nice things that I know you'll find nice too, so more on that in my next post.

Photos: Rachel Kara