Southerly: Since You Asked
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Aertexes
'the fuck is an Aertex, seriously? (I know, I know, "to the Google with you!", but I kept reading the thread hoping I could pick it up from context, and I am at a complete loss.)
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I used to wear my collars turned up. I still do. And I've never lived in Chch. In the 80's we all wore our collars turned up. Especially on denim shirts, oh, and the sleeves rolled up.
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That's nothing: we used to wear our socks rolled up.
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I grow old...I grow old
I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolledThe Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock, late of Fendalton
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sell division...
*One of the first four shops.
I like it - what were the other 3?
... the Weapon Shops of Isher of course...
though the Weapon Shops......will not interfere with the corrupt imperial monarchy of the Isher government (or in this case the Chch City Council), on the grounds that men always have a government of the type they deserve: no government, however bad, exists without at least the tacit consent of the governed.
riparian rites...
Maybe put a riverine skinny-dip in the sequel,
just for me?a real page turner - Evelyn Page that is...*
Hell, why not write your way through the Chch Art Gallery collection - look forward to the story about the frozen funeral procession - very Calvinist!*no collar problems for these Canterbury gals
(possibly NSFW even though it is art!) -
Danielle: polo shirt? teensy alligator? Like you'd wear to a tea partay. (The brands vary, but the appalling preppy-ness remains the same).
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Ian D: perfect cover art for David's next collection, Carry On up the Avon.
I shall do my best to cater to your 'literary' needs (do you prefer men or women? I had one of each before).
One of each sounds nice, although if the water's cold, it's a bit moot. Also, the bits of the Avon I'm familiar with are barely knee deep, so you might have to use poetic licence (or some strategic duckweed) to get your characters decently submerged. Unless you are thinking of adding a few coppers to the story, in which case, Wodehouse-ho! The more the merrier.
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polo shirt? teensy alligator?
Oh, a *Lacoste*. It all becomes clear!
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... the bits of the Avon I'm familiar with are barely knee deep, so you might have to use poetic licence (or some strategic duckweed) to get your characters decently submerged.
The scene was at the Diamond Harbour jetty, waiting for the ferry to Lyttleton -- so plenty of depth for full submersion.
Now I'm thinking it could have been one of those late-autumn days, unexpectedly hot, when one is suddenly overcome by the urge for a dip. Late autumn has the advantage of allowing me some cold and rain later on in the story.
And if I could get that painting for a cover I'd definitely write a book around it.
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Most collar-pooped aertex shirts I've encountered were on the boarders at high school (Nelson College for Girls) so more rural and moneyed than Canterbury in my experience.
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I was about to enthuse about Rosamond Lehmann and then realised I was mixing her up with Elizabeth von Arnim. They're both great.
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I was about to enthuse about Rosamond Lehmann and then realised I was mixing her up with Elizabeth von Arnim.
We've all been there.
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Aertex shirts. We used wear them (collars down) for phys-ed. With apalling turquoise rompers. At Aranui High School.
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The turned up collars on shirts was pretty common in North Otago as late as the mid 1990s
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Blonde bobs, turned up collars, maybe chunky pearls - I thought that was a Khandallah Wadestown sort of thing that you learnt at private girls' schools.
I went to private girl's school AND had classmates from Khandallah and Wadestown AND was a disgusting girly-swot. As I remain pearl-less, bob-less and collar-less, I can only conclude that it wasn't on the main curriculum.
Therefore, they probably covered this material at assembly on Wednesdays, while I was at orchestra practice.
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I was thinking last night about Upper Hutt. My conclusion is that Upper Hutt is less like Gomorrah to Wellingtonians, and more like Minnesota.
- It's far away. To the north.
- You can't imagine living there, even though all the people you know from there are very nice. And even though housing is actually rather inexpensi...no. No.
- You can only really see yourself going there in order to visit friends or relatives. You do have some vague sense that you might have heard about a mall or something.
- This last even though you are well aware that there are some lovely scenic bits, and may well have even visited them.
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Robyn Gallagher has a lovely piece on how the Eagles' song Hotel California is actually about the Hutt Valley, if you know how to read the coded references.
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get stuck in...
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.
as above so below
Upper rut
and
Lower rut
and
denial runs through it all -
Not de Nile (River)
It's de Hutt
David: Jennifer - Birds of a feather. How could I forget. I have a daughter Jennifer. She does Improv with WIT.
- It's far away. To the north.
Thats true...it certainly feels like it.
Robyn:
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.
The Hutt Valley is a prison that will trap you for life.
I suppose 32 years is getting close to "Life". But I like the 50 Tuis in the Kowhai. The Kereru, Native Falcons (kārearea), the quiet and the mist hugging the hills on a drizzly day.
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In my childhood I always associated the Hutt with this Hutt.
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Upper Hutt being LOR country.
Does that make these postings Jabba Ring? -
Did the fashion of turned up collars come about in order to hide their red necks?
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