That one time, in the gym…

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Donnay

So there I am in the gym, being put through my paces by my formidable He-Mannish trainer.

I secured his services in order to solve the problems with my back-, shoulder- and arm-muscles, said problem basically being: I have no muscles, and no shoulders, and it’s a miracle I can even hold up my gin class for a toast. Ask any media person: we all end up as shoulderless creatures from the dank depths after a while, due to excessive exposure to Macs, PCs and bar stools.

Anyway. Music’s pumping, sweaty bodies are glinting, and I’m lunging my way across the gym, 10 kilogram/ 10 ton bag of bricks (it felt like it, okay) across my shoulders. And then doing some single-leg presses, single-leg extensions, double-handed pulldowns, more lunges and stuff like that. And I am She-Ra, I’m Superwoman, I’m Olive Oyl who’s just decided to take some spinach, I’m… hyperventilating.

Just a little light hyperventilating, which quickly turned into heavy hyperventilating and general dizziness and my heart racing and then I was reminded of passing out while having my blood taken (I do that on demand), and then I started to plan the quickest route to the bathroom in order to avoid projectile vomiting over the Muscle Mary’s ogling me suspiciously. By then my trainer was shouting at me to “sit down, drop your head, breathe!”, and I’d decided I wouldn’t make the bathroom, so I should just steal the chick on the machine closest to me’s towel and vomit into it (I’m sure she would have got over it, eventually).

Luckily, round about then my trainer flipped me onto the ground in a pleasingly dexterous way and there I was, lying legs in the air, commandeering a sizeable piece of gym floor as well as one dodgy-looking machine and generally getting in the way of all the other lungers looking down at me in a haughty way.

It was kind of embarrassing. But I felt better almost immediately.

Mr Trainer looked at me gravely (and perhaps with a touch of worry: am I the kind of client who sues?). “What did you eat?”

“Uhm, this and that and this and an apple on the way here. I prepared, see!”

“Well, I think your blood sugar crashes quite hectically. Also, I think you could seriously do with some more cardio training.”

Uhm, yes, that might be true… I am what is known as embarrassingly unfit, despite priding myself on being able to kick any irritating person of your choice right inna head. ‘S true.

Anyway, I recovered, and I’m quite proud to say I finished the training session. Something to the sounds of, “They can take my dignity, but they won’t take the last ten steps!” Or “This… Is… Virgin Actiivvveeeee!” Or “You shall not pass out!” So I didn’t wuss out completely.

I am just a bit worried, though. May was supposed to be the month I got my Mojo back. This entailed various activities and To Do-lists. Some of these I failed at miserably (blogging more, for one – this being the sole May effort so far!). Others I’ve done better at: eating a bit better, sorting out my back and shoulders, taking a shot at playing piano again…

Just… Stuff. Stuff to make me feel like the person I used to be before work started devouring so much of my time, creativity, passion for life and just general happiness.

The fitness thing scares me a bit. I’ve always enjoyed being active, and I’m not used to feeling physically weak, but now, I am, and it kind of terrifies me. It makes me think of all the people I know who’ve died in the past few months. Some epitomes of healthy living, others just normal people. Not one saw their deaths coming – and they were (mostly) all so young! And the stuff they died from: heart attacks, blood clots, aneurisms… Things that could quite possibly be related to stress? (Oh, how this blog has taken a turn for the morbid. I also need to get my sense of humour back.)

I’m not going to prattle on about how we should all aim for more balanced lives and stop sweating the small stuff and not let work get to you. I could do that for days, and still not believe or listen to myself. And we all KNOW what we’re supposed to do anyway.

Instead, I’m focusing on little things, day by day, to try and get some reason back for why it is I’m actually alive, and why I’m doing what I’m doing.

Little things like getting up and going to the gym again. But this time, with an empty Checkers bag stuffed into my sports bra, just for in case…

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April shenanigans and May Mojo

Posted on May 1, 2013 by Donnay

So our March photo experiment proved to be enough fun to continue throughout April… I missed a few days, but here are my snaps of life that encapsulates my April. In May, we’ll do it again, but I’m also starting a May Mojo project. Watch this space…

: I skipped the first of April and only started on the second. Getting a mixed bag full of awesome new CDs from one of my favourite music labels pretty much had me jumping for joy. Perks of the job for a music lover.

: I wanted to take a picture while driving through one of the tree-tunnel roads in Jozi: they’re magical. But I forgot to keep my phone in the car for the drive home. So, instead, some strange animals… I guess I’m a car hippie.

: A cold spell hit Jozi early. Enough reason to dig up my scruffy punky fingerless gloves.

: A chill one at home, juggling a book and a cuddly cat on my lap.

: I’m guessing that it actually isn’t much of a chore if it’s the end result of an epic day with good friends.

: In the fresh air. No wonder the horse looks so happy…

: A good mood? Perhaps.

: I don’t usually share my wine. Sometimes I make an exception. :-)

: Lots of sadness on this day, with a good person lost. Three sore hearts.

: Under the weather, underwhelmed, under enthusiastic. Still sad.

: The challenge being to try and look cool and fabulous at SA Fashion Week. It was fun.

: At Fashion Week again, a moment.

: The kitchen is the place where everybody always congregates. I have lovely memories of fantastic times with friends. Once we revamp, we’re making it bigger.

: This is issue number 63 of Hoezit!, the tween magazine I edit. Always a lovely feeling when I hold the finished product in my hands.

: Jozi might have its faults, but I love living here. And sometimes, looking out from a high point makes you feel incredibly free. I interviewed author Lauren Beukes at this spot, Zietzies Guest House & Restaurant, and it was pretty damn epic.

: I read all the time, chronically. I’d just finished Lauren Beukes’ The Shining Girls, and decided to start on Ken Follett’s Winter of the World

: Creative people come up with special, quirky things – like the supercool woman who sorted our magazine media day’s look and feel and vibe.

: On this particular day, calm. Spending time with a good friend in beautiful surrounds will do that to you.

: Princess Peroni’s been sulking something bad ever sense we introduced the ginger terrorist Pratchett into her life. She used to love being brushed, but has avoided us for a while. On this day, I finally got her into her daily habit again…

: Reading. Love, love love reading. I’ve always dreamt about having bookshelves in my home, and it’s a fab perk of being an “adult”.

: Oh yeah! My zombie addiction got fed when hubby rocked up with this epic brain mould…

: Having a fabulous husband (here looking nice and camp), and a terrorist kitten who survived her first visit to the Vet. (This pic got turned into a pretty hilarious meme by hubby’s employees: http://www.quickmeme.com/meme/3u38kz/ )

: This was the second time that a Spotted Eagle Owl used our garden as a daytime roost. Usually, we find them by the insane ruckus the other birds make, dive-bombing and alarm-calling and generally harassing the poor owl. It stayed there the whole day, and then went hunting.

: I’ve restarted the piano more than a decade after giving it up. It’s a wonderful feeling, even though I know it’s going to take a lot of hard work.

: Wise words: “A man with too much ambition cannot sleep in peace.”

: Teatime! Better known as brain-recharge time, relax time, killing time…

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Snips of life

Posted on April 1, 2013 by Donnay

The month of March saw myself, my mom and my two sisters trying out an experiment: photographing a different moment, object or idea for each day of the month. My mom decided she’d write instead of posting a photo, the rest of us snapped merrily away. The pics aren’t professional or profound, but it’s been an interesting way of focusing more on the daily minutiae of life, while finding out more about the people you already believe you’re close to.

This was my March.

: Day 1: clock. The first day caught me by surprise and I couldn’t think of a creative way to portray a clock. So I took the easy way out: Google definitions…

: Day 2: Morning. I love dew on flowers and surfaces. I especially love early-morning dew.

: Day 3: kitchen. There’s a charming little treat shop at the Lifestyle Garden Centre. Overpriced, yes, but fun to browse. We had an impromptu picnic with some cheese, jam, fresh bread and delicious wine.

: Day 4 Where I slept. Or at least, where my fat white cat Princess Peroni slept.

: Day 5: Sharp. I love brooches and earrings in the form of animals. I loved and owned them long before they became fashionable, and I’ll probably keep on wearing them once they’re old and passe. I managed to accidentally stick the pin of this brooch in my chest. It was sharp.

: Day 6: What I wore. I had a much-needed time out working from home on this day. I can’t concentrate and write properly when I’m surrounded by too much noise and fuss. Not having to get out of my pyjamas was a bonus.

: Day 7: hair. I wasn’t sure about the pixie cut when I got it, and I’m still not sure if it really works for me. This was post-Muay Thai, all sweaty and unstyled.

: Day 8: mess. The process of putting a magazine together puts me through a wringer every time. It never seems like its going anywhere… Until the rails start filling up and I can SEE what it’s going to be like.

: Day 9: home made. During a wonderful morning out with the bridal posse, the bride to be was given this supercute home-made tag. Like. I’m loving the idea of being one of Kristia’s bridesmaids!

: Day 10: favourite drink. Tea, the eternal panacea. A cup of Earl Grey in the morning makes everything A-okay.

: Day 11: texture. I have three different nightrobes, all equally fluffy and girly. Most of the time, though, my cats use them as beds – I can never put them down on any flat surface or they’ll be colonised.

: Day 12: in my fridge. We’re not big planners when it comes to meals, although we’ve been trying to improve. Jam and cheese: the party starts.

: Day 13: a treat. I’m in love with Me & Oli’s magical prints and clothing: Lalita Lu and team’s brand of Aussie wonderfulness might bankrupt me one day.

: Day 14: share. I was super scared before giving a lecture on social media and magazines to a third-year journalism class. It turned out to be awesome – and the feedback from them was too. Share some knowledge, share some love.

: Day 15: tiny. Our home was turned upside down by the arrival of a teensy ball of ginger fur and stubbornness – a girl ginger too! But she is loved hugely, and she’ll grow on the resident furball eventually…

: Day 16: sunray. Light through a window. Thoughts of my dad.

: Day 17: green. I just thought this green “no dumping” sign summed up the spirit of being green. Or maybe I just like Janet Leigh screaming.

: Day 18: where I went. To the beautiful beach of Noordhoek. We had a lovely time here with a very good friend, all in all it was a perfect day.

: Day 19: On the floor. Waltzing around in heels all day long leaves my feet longing for some G&T. When those shoes hit the floor, everybody sighs in relief.

: Day 20: above. Princess Peroni trying to not seem intimidated by her Ginger Highness down below. Only afterwards did friends point out that Peroni’s “wearing” a graduation cap.

: Day 21: hat. Our lampshade concoction in the extra bedroom. Yes. You can even leave it on.

: Day 22: sometimes I… wish I were a cat. In my house, specifically.

: Day 23: a pair. I love bunnies. This should, by now, be obvious. Thank you for these, Claire.

: Day 24: a dream. I’ve been reading the Anne of Green Gables-series of books again. As a child it sent me off into rapturous daydreams. As an adult I still love the daydream bits, even though I don’t at all agree with the way women are mostly breeding mares beholden to their husbands…

: Day 25: shiny. Blink Stefanus: a guy who comes up with some wonderfully bright ideas – blink = shiny.

: Day 26: work. I define myself through the work I do in a big way. This isn’t always healthy, and the day-to-day red tape and politics really get me down. What makes is mostly worth it, is when I hold the end product in my hand. And then the cycle starts again.

: Day 27: Smooth. Online shopping will bankrupt me one of these days. But oh, the shoes on Modcloth…

: Day 28: flower. I’ve been trying to coax more sunbirds to our garden, planting stuff that they’ll like to eat. This aloe blooming is just one step closer to a proper feeding frenzy!

: Day 29: I bought… A dress, also online, with this print. I guess I should stop buying things with whimsical animal print on it, but, it’s so beautiful!

: Day 30: fresh. We’ve been trying some healthier eating, and enjoying thinking up different options. This beetroot, avo & berry salad was bloody delicious.

: Day 31: celebrate. 100′s and 1000′s sprinkles is a surefire way to start a party. I swoon over custard, banana and sprinkles.

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Vintage Words: Visiting with Nibs

Posted on March 10, 2013 by Donnay

Interview blog for heat magazine, May 2010.

Nibs in action.

Visiting with Nibs…

I’ve learnt three things from Nibs van der Spuy:
• How to open those pesky plastic CD packets in less than two seconds using only your thumbnail
• That guys who connect closely with guitar strings often need reinforcements in the form of fake nails to get them through a gig
• That he’s a better interviewer than me: I hadn’t known him for five minutes, and he already knew where I came from, that I have a cat and actually speak Afrikaans.

Nibs is such a laid-back, comfortable guy that you find yourself spilling details on your own life instead of digging for his deep, dark secrets. Not that he’s closely guarded – not at all. His particular brand of beautiful acoustic-guitar driven melodies asks that he put his emotions and experiences out there for all to hear. Such is the case with A House Across The River, his latest album, just released. As good a time as any to corner him for some lunchtime red wine and questions…

A colleague of mine gets very sentimental about your music; he calls it “snog songs”… Do you get that a lot?
Nibs: All across the world! I put my heart on the line when I write, and hopefully what I’m going through emotionally at the time helps people to connect with the music. The essence of songwriting is honesty – you have to be honest, even when you’re putting your experiences into a fictional context. That’s why I love musicians such as Tom Petty… And Bruce Springsteen. He paints vivid pictures. I’m thinking of Nebraska, The Ghost of Tom Joad, Devils & Dust… I sang The River just last night!

The storytellers… Would you say you’re a storyteller too?
Nibs: Yes! A House Across The River is basically about reliving the lost dreams you once had in your heart, perhaps as a child… When you believed you could do anything. People should go back to the basics. What you drive, what you wear doesn’t mean anything. There’s no love and happiness in it. You need to go back to the simple things. It’s much like Tom and Bruce’s songs – they give you a story, but it’s up to you to determine how it turns out for you, what you do with it.
It’s a metaphor for life… The mansion the boy’s driving past in A House Across The River is symbolic. The risk factor is crossing the river to get to it, to the girl inside. The girl’s not gonna come to you, you have to go and get her!

So in your case, did you go and get the metaphorical girl?
Nibs: I’m living my long-time dream… I’ve been playing music for many years, but for a while I also lectured at varsity, for 14 years. But before the release of Beautiful Feet, I never really DID it. I took a risk with the release of Beautiful Feet: to resign from my job when the CD got international recognition. That was the sign. Being on the road… I love it, I love playing with others, and I love playing solo and independent.

And you also got the actual girl!
Nibs: She’s French and lives in France. We’ve been together for three years… I met her on MySpace! She commented that she liked my music, I posted her an album, we chatted, and I flew over to meet her… It’s not always easy, but we’re both independent, which helps with the distance thing!

Has living your dream changed you?
Nibs: I’ve come out of my shell, I’m less introspective… When you put music out there, you’re putting your soul on the line. I’m not scared anymore. I can tell the whole world what I feel.

Do you structure your gigs as well, to tell a story?
Nibs: I never work with a setlist. I just feel the vibrations from the audience, and it helps me decide what to play. My audience dictates, I think a setlist is rigid, it confines you.

You worked with Farryl Purkiss and Guy Buttery on this album again… Any other local acts you like?
Nibs: I’m a huge Valiant Swart fan, from his Dorpstraat Revisited days… That’s a powerful album. And bass-guitarist Schalk Joubert. Dan Patlansky, Albert Frost – I’ve known him since the age of 17! And I love 340ml!

You also worked with Piers Facini on this album…
Nibs: I discovered Pierce when I went to watch a gig of Ben Harper years ago… He was touring with Ben, did a duet with him. Pierce is my favourite singer/songwriter. But I guess my biggest musical inspiration would be Tim Buckley – Geoff Buckley’s dad… He died at the age of 28, but put nine albums out before then! Geoff never knew his dad. Cripples Cry on my album is a cover of a Tim Buckley song.

Nieu Bethesda’s quite an interesting song, also with Farryl on vocals…
Nibs: Nieu Bethesda is quite a disturbing town; it doesn’t have the greatest energy… I didn’t really paint a pretty picture in the song; it’s more a song of redemption… Get your faith together! Nieu Bethesda is very grey… a bad acid trip.

What’s your process when recording an album?
Nibs: I’m a fan of albums. If I think of guys from the ’70s, ’80s, they were bringing out an album a year – sometimes even twice a year! Why wait years? Every day is inspirational – if you wait too long, the inspiration fades. I do albums very organically. Once I have a theme, I work within the parameters of what’s in my heart and dreams. While ideas are fresh, lay them down! Don’t wait!
A House Across The River was recorded and mixed in five days. You get three dudes together, living the music… Things get really organic. We decided we were going to keep the music real; nothing was recorded in more than three takes. Some takes felt good immediately, but we’d do another for just in case… Obviously you have to rehearse, but the song still needs to be a bit foreign to you when you play it. It must not sound too rehearsed, because that just kills the soul.

Do you ever find the process of bringing out an album, of being so honest, painful?
Nibs: It is painful… Life stories can be painful!

What would you ultimately like your music to do?
Nibs: When I leave, I’d like to know that I’ve left snapshots of my life behind. I want my albums to be timeless, to sound timeless. Not overly produced!

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Vintage Words: Falling in love is hard on the lungs

Posted on March 8, 2013 by Donnay

Okay, so I’m going to start posting some of my older blogs and writing from various sources, just because I want to. You gotta protect these things for posterity, you know! I’m calling it “Vintage Words”.

First up: a blog I did for heat magazine on Oppikoppi 2009, Smoorverlief.

Oppikoppi 15: Smoorverlief

Falling in love is hard on the lungs…

Smoorverlief (n)

- To be head over heels in love with someone

- To be smothered by dust because Oppikoppi loves you so

- Something you put on your hotdog

- To love someone so much you want to kill them

(Thanks to random Oppikoppi bands for definitions)

It’s no accident that the 15^th Oppikoppi was themed Smoorverlief. I really got to appreciate this round about the time that the second chord of the song that inspired the name in the first place filled the starry night sky. (I’m gonna break into song any moment now, I tell ya.) Riku Latti and Albert Frost charmed us with Smoorverlief while a wobbly guy (booze AND love) celebrated having just asked his babe to marry him from the stage.

If you don’t feel your heart shoot all the way past the moon and back to root itself somewhere in the dusty duwweltjies and klip around you in reaction to something like this, you’re dead. (I’m a romantic, what can I say…) Or you’re one of the idiots who insist on playing rave music from the boot of your car while an icon like Koos Kombuis burns up the stage… As much as Tassies allowed him to!

I was Smoorverlief. We were Smoorverlief. Every single random weirdly dressed hippie and emo kid and rocker and kugel was Smoorverlief. In love with the dodgy tent, upright despite missing one pole, the shroom-addled student/spawn-of-Satan that stole my cellphone (and my water, and my cough syrup), the late-night pizza that kept my friend Jo from eating for two days and the 20 bands and counting we had to interview while missing the action on stage.

In love with the guy in the pink latex suit, the guy in the blue latex suit, the guy in the chicken suit, the long queues at the toilets, the cold water in the showers, the stoned photographers and journos in the media camp, the hydration station with cold water on tap, the dust that got stuck in my chest, the philosophical random midnight conversation with FHM’s Gordon Laws in the middle of the road regarding the Parlotones’ rendition of Liza se Klavier….

In love with the cane-and-cream-soda mix that kept us buzzing and had other people shuddering, the thorns I picked out of my socks, the beanie that kept my head warm at night, the drunk dude in the bar that did his best to grope up my friend, our next-door campers who recreated medieval Sherwood Forest with bongo drums and a penny whistle, the scruffily hot dudes… Even in love with the dude that broke my car window with a hammer and screwdriver after I locked my keys in it. Okay, so I asked him to do it, but still…

It’s impossible to describe to non-Oppikoppi disciples why we do this to ourselves every year. We drive for hours, get pulled over by distrustful cops who eye your boobs more than your driver’s license, coax your poor car over the sinkplaatpad, struggle to get your accreditation right, pitch a tent in blerrie harde ground… And then you start boozing and filling your lungs with dust and your feet with mud. And you mission. From stage to bar and back again. Thrilling in the sounds of Zebra & Giraffe, The Dirty Skirts, aKing, Kidofdoom, Shadow Club… Listening in awe to Rebirth, four black dudes from Soweto redefining your idea of who can do metal and how it should be done… Wishing Belgian band Balthazar would get their butts in gear and release a CD so that you can introduce friends to their sound… Lying in your tent listening to the late-nite DJ ending off his set with Roxette’s Dangerous, and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Feeling at home.

Okay, so a friend told me long ago that I have an overdeveloped sense of drama and that I constantly live on the edge of a catastrophe curve. Which is probably why I love Oppikoppi so much, and gush about it ad nauseam. It’s bigger than life, constantly teetering on the brink of total drunken chaos and fist fights, filling your head with anarchic thoughts set to a soundtrack of Fokofpolisiekar/Van Coke Kartel/Die Heuwels Fantasties or any of their incarnations.

You’ll carry moments from it with you for the rest of your life. Like the weirdly tunnel-like tent next door giving birth to a pasty-skinned, plumber-cracked dude in way-too-small purple skinny jeans. With a muffin top. And a huge scrape on his butt. Did I mention the disturbing whiteness of his plumber’s crack? Oh man, some things will never fade off your retina…

Or watching Jacques from the Shadow Club onstage. Sex on legs. Or even seeing sweet & serious Richard from Kidofdoom lose all inhibitions on stage to turn into a total rock legend.

Watching my friend’s face as she realizes her shirt’s on inside out and not being sure how or why that happened…

And yes, Odlaw*, we’ll also never forget you stripping off your jeans to show off your boxers, thus showing off way more than you (or us!) bargained for. Camp legend…

It doesn’t even matter that I came home sick. Very sick. Acute Dustilitis. And that most of this was typed lying in bed with an intravenous drip of chicken soup stuck in my arm. Next year, we’re doing it again. That’s a promise.

Name very shabbily disguised to protect from further embarrassment.

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What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…

Posted on March 6, 2013 by Donnay

Yes. Why didn't I?

After 14 years of blissful living in Jozi, I’ve become a statistic. I guess it was way overdue.

Yesterday evening, driving back from my Muay Thai class (oh the irony…) I got pseudo smashed/grabbed (the window was open so nothing went smash, exactly) by two well-dressed guys, one sporting a pair of iPod earphones and a hipsterish kinda orange check collared shirt, at a robot where I was waiting to turn right. Cliché.

Kelly Clarkson’s What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger (har, har) was blasting out of my open window, and I’m guessing that they didn’t like my taste in post-workout music much and wanted to make their point.

I didn’t see them coming, they were just suddenly there. And for a few seconds I had no idea what was happening and I don’t know if they turned my car key to switch off the engine or if I just let it die in fright. They were shouting and I was saying, “what?! I don’t want to buy your avos!” and they wanted a phone and I didn’t have one (I keep all my stuff in the boot, small mercies) and they were groping my crotch, my breasts (clearly they’ve done this before, they know exactly where women hide their stuff), reaching across me to check the other seat and then punched me in the face twice just for good measure. I didn’t see that coming, or I would have blocked (har, har).

I think I must have said, “no, don’t, no phone”, and I mewled “help, help” a few times, but the cars surrounding me (there were five. Wonderful clarity of the mind.) just sped off.

Then my hipster smashers sauntered away, clearly disgusted at my lack of earthly accoutrements. And somehow I started the engine and skipped a red light and went home.

I couldn’t sleep last night.

I had a headache and my face hurt and my nose was bunged up from crying.

I was too angry.

At myself. For being so utterly helpless. For driving with an open window. For not realizing what was happening. For letting the engine die. For not reaching over and punching the snot out of the guy who was hanging in my window. For not speeding off, for not being braver, for just being so oblivious and such a wuss. For being a sucky Girl Scout. For listening to Kelly Clarkson when some badass blues rock would have been better suited to the situation.

I’m angry at how they just walked away, not a care in the world.

I’m angry at the other drivers for not giving a fuck. But hell, this is Jozi, maybe they thought I was just buying something from my dealer.

I couldn’t sleep because I kept on thinking, “what if”. What if they had knives? Or guns? What if it was carefully planned and not just opportunism gone rife when spotting a dumb bitch with her window open?

I’m also angry that I can’t even feel miserable about this without feeling a twinge of guilt and “get over yourself”: compared to what happens to other people every single day in South Africa, practically nothing happened to me. Hell, my eye doesn’t even want to go blue, it’s just a bit squinty.

I’m scared now. I can’t help it.

I used to feel a tinge of pride at driving with my window open. It allows you a bit of banter with the newspaper vendors, Big Issue-sellers and neighbourhood beggars. I like smelling early mornings and cooling down without the aircon.

I’ll never drive with my window open again.

And I’m binning that stupid Grammy Nominees CD.

* On the bright side: I’ve started blogging again. Misery loves company, eh.

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Squeaky clean!

Posted on July 26, 2012 by Donnay

Maybelline's Cherry Candy for some spark.

“If it squeaks, it’s clean.”

I remember my dad teaching us how to wash our hair when we were little girls. He was a firm believer in the whole idea of squeaky clean, and how you should keep rinsing your hair until it squeaks when you run it through your fingers – the only way to know that all the shampoo and conditioner is out.

These days I know that it’s not necessarily a good thing for hair or skin to be that squeaky clean – usually, if it squeaks, it’s been stripped of some-or-other vitally important ingredient.

Despite knowing this, I still don’t like face washes that feel too creamy and leave my skin feeling as if it has a bit of a film on it. It might be beneficial, but it doesn’t feel really clean.

I’ve learned some other things too, as part of my heat Hair and Beauty Awards experience. In no particular order…
• Finding out that your pasty complexion actually suits a wide range of vibrant, bright lipsticks is a wonderful surprise. Discovering that wearing these lipsticks lifts your spirits, your eyes (according to some excited work colleagues) and sommer puts a spring in your step… Well, that’s a delicious cherry on top.
• People react to you differently if you’re wearing some make-up, but especially bright lipstick. It’s like they notice you more, or actually look at you. It’s a scary though: make-up as armour and advertisement.
• I don’t think I’m cut out to wear a full face of make-up, or even any make-up for that matter, every single day – it would simply annoy me endlessly and make me late for work every day. Also, I have a tendency to bite my lip and wipe at my eyes: not a good idea if you’re wearing lippy and mascara or eyeshadow.
• Sweet, cloying fragrances are not my thing. I have definite oriental/exotic and green/fresh tendencies.
• I’m a product snob. I have very particular tastes, and they run expensive. Kind of like shoes. Sigh.
• Don’t judge a product by it’s packaging. I’ve become very aware of ranges that are more organic or eco-friendly, be it in their packaging, or the way that the ingredients are put together. Suddenly, I’m checking ingredients lists for all kinds of parabens and icky stuff. It’s quite pricey to go green though – a downside.

Thierry Mugler's Angel...

Some products that left their mark the past few days.

Face
The Savane skincare range, including face wash, exfoliator, toner, anti-ageing serum, balancing oil and face cream. Just… Wow. At first, I wasn’t sure what to think of the little aluminum tins filled with pungent, earthy smells, textures and colours. The exfoliator especially looked a bit like sticky elephant dung! However, used together the products leave your skin feeling smooth and looking radiant. It doesn’t dehydrate, lasts the whole day and, best of all, it is organic and green and all things good. They’re all about ethical trading and diminishing carbon footprints.

I fell in love with Mamma Mio’s O.Mega Wonder-Full Balm – you can use it anywhere on your body, but as a lip treatment it’s especially fabulous. I’ll never not have this in my bag again.

Olay Total Effects Age Defying face wash, toner and night moisturizer absorbed well and left my skin soft and well-hydrated. I enjoy Olay’s products, and so does my mom – she loves telling me about how my grandmother only ever used the available “Oil of Olay” products at the time, and never had “a single wrinkle”! Now that’s a good testimonial, methinks.

Girly candy.

Make-up
I went a bit wild with lipsticks and mascara, trying pretty much all of them. I especially loved YSL’s Rouge Pur Couture in Rose Vinyl, Lancome’s Rouge in Love, Maybelline’s colour sensational in Cherry Candy and Revlon’s Colourburst Lip Butter in Red Velvet.

I also tried Physician’s Formula Plump Potion: and yes, it actually does visibly plump up your lips with no surgical interference at all. Who’dve thunk!

My favourite mascaras at the moment (still testing them all), are Revlon’s Photoready 3D, Yardley Curvilicious and Rimmel ScandalEyes. It’s hard to pick one: all of them do their jobs well: opening eyes, creating dramatic lashes and refusing to budge under waterpressure.

Fragrance
Thierry Mugler’s Angel surprised me – I’ve never tried it before, but I really like the oriental vibes. It’s a very heavy fragrance though: I’d wear it at night only, and just a small spritz at a time.

DKNY Pure Verbena – fresh and summery, happy smell! A bit too light for winter.

Body
Nivea’s range of Q10 plus products are old stalwarts. I especially love the Firming Body Oil and the Firming Body Cream. I’m not so sure if branching into face care is a good idea, but I’m giving those products a shot soon.

Hair
I was very impressed with the Dove Damage Repair Intensive Therapy shampoo and conditioner – it immediately made my hair softer, shinier and more manageable. However, after two days of use it did weigh my hair down a bit – it’s just a bit too rich for my hair type. I’ll definitely give their range of haircare products a good shot to find one that works better for me though.

Davines’ Nounoushampoo and conditioner is sheer magic – the packaging looks cheap and home made, very low key – it’s made from recycled materials and is fully recyclable, sustainable beauty is key. The shampoo and conditioner is decadent, works perfectly and feels so good on your hair. Win!

Revlon's Red Velvet.

Follow the #heathairandbeautyawards on Twitter, as well as @heatSouthAfrica, for updates from all the different heat Hair and Beauty Awards 2012 judges – you might learn something interesting!

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Day 1 & 2: charming pharmacists and mothers-in-law

Posted on July 15, 2012 by Donnay

Day 1: low key, taking on the Market!

So after the initial glee of a box full of heat Hair and Beauty Awards stuff wore off, the reality set in: I have to test ALL OF THIS. Sjoe. Where to begin? How about with a trip to the Neighbourhood Goods Market in Johannesburg?

The look was pretty low key as far as make-up and styling goes, but still a bit more than my normal vibe. I can tell you one thing though: a bit of gloss and mascara immediately ups your mood! So much so that a quick detour to Dischem turned into a flirty session with my regular chemist. Well, my mom and I think it was a flirty session; my husband figures he was only animated at the bad state of my medical aid credit. Fact remains: a man who usually wouldn’t even look up when I picked up a script did a double take (maybe shock?), smiled, and actually spoke to me. It’s the lipgloss, I’m sure of it.

After Dischem, off to the Market – and even the frigid air couldn’t damp my spirits. My long-suffering hubby did make a bit of a miff noise at being asked to sniff my neck AGAIN to determine how long lasting the fragrance was, but all in all, a good day.

On day 2 we had the in-laws over for lunch, so I pulled out the big guns – my first try of a really bright, in-your-face lipstick. Lancome’s Rouge In Love went on smooth and glossy, didn’t dry my lips, and immediately “lifted” my face. Said mom-in-law: “It brightens your face, goes with the brunette vibe – you can pull it off.” Well, yay! It was kind of scary, but I’m going to start experimenting with bright tones on a regular basis.

Yardley’s StayFast nail lacquer in forest green didn’t get such a good reception – I painted my nails, only to have my mom squinting at it in a disapproving way. Apparently, the shade is a bit too dull, and “green” – I must admit, it did lack a certain oomf.

Here are some of the products tried out so far… (And yes, guys should stop reading now – this will bore you to tears!)

DAY 1

Day 2: bright lippy!

Face

Dermalogica’s Daily Microfoliant – it’s magic. Not too abrasive, doesn’t irritate skin, and leaves it feeling ultra smooth and fresh.
Dermalogica Multivitamin Power Firm eye cream – feels like silk, goes on smooth, immediately absorbed.
Clarins Daily Energizer Cream-Gel – Just: wow. Smells fresh and slightly herby, looks pretty (orangey tone), absorbs quick and easy. No greasy film, leaves skin with a bit of a glow. Both my mom and mom-in-law wanted to know if I were wearing base, since my skin looked so smooth – I wasn’t. New favourite!
Dermalogica lip climate control – I’m not yet sure what to think of this. It definitely left my lips moisturized, and worked good as a base for lipstick/ gloss – but I kept feeling like it wasn’t rich enough, and I should put more on. Will see how it goes.

Make-up

Clarins Instant Definition Mascara – went on a bit messy, but that might just be my general clumsiness with a mascara wand. After cleaning up, definitely a rich mascara, adds loads of definition to eyelashes. Long-lasting, no raccoon eyes!
Inglot lip duo lip gloss: I love the packaging, and the colours look beautiful and rich in the pot. Going on though, it loses a lot of it’s pop – my husband felt that it looked like I was “sitting on the fence” when it came to trying a rich lip colour. It wasn’t drying at all, and lasted passably well through a Jackson Pollock pancake (banana and nutella) as well as a margarita. Nice for everyday, but doesn’t have a “wow” factor.

Fragrance

Inglot's lip duo lipgloss

Aqua Di Gio for women by Giorgio Armani – a breezy, beachy, wonderfully fresh summer fragrance. I fell in love with it immediately.

Body

Dermalogica body hydrating cream – slightly astringent, lemony smell. Easily absorbed, smooth texture. Doesn’t leave any greasiness behind, high-quality.
Good Stuff up & away body wash: orchid blossom and pink pepper – smells a bit too sweet and powdery for me, but has a nice texture – wonderful to shave with.

Hair

Hannon Super Shine Shampoo and Hannon Super Shine Conditioner – not too shabby at all. Shampoo lathers well, conditioner has a rich, creamy consistency, smells “like a salon”, according to my mom. Detangles hair, definitely leaves it softer, although I would have like a bit more shine to my hair afterwards, since it’s super shine after all. I’d use it again.
Hannon More Hair volumising mist – need volume? Look no further! Works a charm, doesn’t smell weird, doesn’t leave your hair feeling sticky and weighed down.

DAY 2
Face

Vichy LiftActivYeux eye cream: a slightly thicker consistency that doesn’t go on as easily as the Dermalogica, but absorbs really quickly and feels good once on. I think with regular use, this will make a real difference.
Okay, I cheated: I used the Clarins face cream again. It just felt so good! Tomorrow I’ll choose something else…

Make Up

Moroccon Oil hair products

Physicians’ Formula Organic Wear mascara – no mess, no fuss – and no irritation. Lasted the whole day, didn’t smear or run. Will definitely use again.
Lancome Rouge in love lipstick – lovely shade, went on smooth and glossy. “Bled” a little after a while – eek! Also not terribly long lasting: drinking and eating wipes it off, so you’ll have to reapply often.

Fragrance

DKNY Pure – another fresh, summery fragrance. Not too strong though, fades quite quickly.

Body

Vichy Nutri-extra cream – pure magic! Faint “grassy” smell, but not at all unpleasant. Wonderful consistency, absorbs really fast. The best thing though is that the effect it has on your skin lasts the whole day: satiny smooth, wonderfully hydrated. You can even use it on just-shaved legs: no irritation!

Hair

Moroccan Oil Moisture Repair Shampoo and Moroccon Oil Moisture Repair Conditioner, Moroccan Oil Restorative Hair Mask – I’d use this regularly. Fresh smell, creamy. It’s very rich, but doesn’t leave your hair feeling heavy – as long as you rinse it out properly. After drying hair was soft and manageable. If you have damaged hair, this will definitely make a difference.
Tigi Bed Head After Party – a hair-smoothing cream, sorted out flyaways straightaway, no sticky residue.

Remember to follow the heat Hair and Beauty Awards action on Twitter: @heatSouthAfrica, follow the hashtag #heathairandbeautyawards. I’ll also be Tweeting at random: @SAPixi

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Queens of primp and preen

Posted on July 14, 2012 by Donnay

We packed it all out to start the sorting process... And this isn't even all of it! Spoilt!

My mom and I went into a paroxysm of girlish glee last night when my judges’ box of goodies for the annual heat Hair & Beauty Awards pitched up on my doorstep… Stuffed chockfull of all kinds of hair products, skin creams, scrubs, buffs, masks, gels, fragrances, glosses and basically oodles of beauty bliss.

Now I usually reserve this type of reaction for the arrival of the latest Game of Thrones-book, cool Zombie-movie, new Jack White-single or pictures of a giant pink bunny lying on it’s back in the Italian Alps. I’ve never considered myself a truly “girly girl”. I’m kind of more the wash-and-go, sometimes drip-dry and slightly wrinkled type. But for the next few weeks, I’ll be digging up my inner diva and trying out a myriad of products in order to find the best of the best… And blogging about it.

But first, a basic picture of me, to give you a better idea of what I’m working with:
• I’m blue-eyed and pale. Ghostly, with freckles. People often ask me if I’m sick. Usually, I’m just undead. I avoid the sun, despite loving sunny days and beach holidays to bits. So sunblock is important to me, but also a constant mission to find something that doesn’t feel thick and oily and messy.
• My hair is medium length, thick/ medium coarse, mousy brown, currently recovering from some postbox red months with a faded chocolate brown dye – so not too terribly damaged, but a bit dry and meh.
• My skin is typical 30-something: slightly oily T-zone, but tends to get really dry in winter. Lips really suffer – no matter what I try, always very dry and chapped. Being so pale, I also scar/ freckle easily. Some fine lines, but not retiring with a wad of knitting just yet…
• Nails are normal: nothing brittle or dodge or discoloured. Fast-growing too.
• I almost never wear make-up. When I do, it’s usually just mascara and eyeshadow. I’m a total lipstick rookie, and I hate base, and anything that feels like it sticks to my skin.

Another angle...

I’ll figure out the process as I go along, but I’m basically making up a bundle of products to use every day: different shampoos, creams and face stuff. Also trying out some make-up and a different fragrance, will be experimenting quite a bit.

My mom’s trying out some of the products focused specifically on advanced ageing, and my hubby graciously agreed to smell my neck in public and comment on the fragrances/ creams/ bathproducts.

And… Here we go! I’m guessing I might be considerably more girly by the end of this – or at least just terribly well-groomed. But I draw the line at showing off my armpits to the world like those girs in the Dove commercials do…

Also follow the judging action on Twitter: heat’s profile: @heatSouthAfrica or mine: @SAPixi, use #heathairandbeautyawards to follow the conversation.

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Sounds like a travesty

Posted on May 20, 2012 by Donnay

Yes, okay, judgemental and stereotyping a bit, I know it's not necessarily true, but still...

Well, hello there world – I’m back in blogland after a bit of a creative hiatus. That is, a hiatus during which any form of creativity was sorely absent. I’m not entirely convinced yet that any of it’s come back yet, but here goes… And, of course, my first blog back needs to be a bit of a rant. Yes.

I recently had the dubious honour of judging some categories for an Afrikaans music award show. In general, Afrikaans music is not my forte – at least not the specific genres I was asked to judge in this case. I’m more indie, rock, alternative. Not so much popular, auto tuner and flimsy lyrics.

So yes. Suffice it to say that there are hours of my life I shall never get back. I did pull up a list of apparent Commandments you have to follow to create said genre of Afrikaans music:

• Thou shalt discover the “good side” of the face, and henceforth use it in any and all poses for cover artwork. Use the flipside for the back of the CD. And wind machines are a plus. Popped collars and feathery spiked hair go without saying. Avoid edgy or interesting at all costs.
• Thou shalt ruin an otherwise (possibly?) pleasing voice with excessive use of vocoder and auto tuning, in order to leave the listener flummoxed as to the actual quality of the album.
• Thou shalt not check the sleeve notes for any spelling, punctuation or grammatical errors, and shall especially not fix the direction of the apostrophe-thingy (what’s it called again?) used on the Afrikaans ‘n. (Sorry, pet hate of mine.)
• Thou shalt remember how your mother raved at your rendition of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, and then proceed to record it. And sing it at gospel festivals. Because that’s totally where it should be sung.
• Thou shalt not give a shit about the quality and meaning of song lyrics and instead write utter drivel such as “My ma stik nog jou soom. My boetie vra waar’s daai oom.” (My mother’s still stitching your seam. My brother’s asking where you are). And everything MUST RHYME.
• It’s not enough to have your name and surname on the cover. Thou shalt also create an elaborate type of “initial artwork” to stamp on the cover. Double tap, you know.
• Thou shalt buy some random European pop tune and translate the lyrics into Afrikaans to create a new treffer. Something like “Bokkie ek mis jou” instead of “Baby I miss you”. ‘Cos it’s so unique, yo.
• Thou shalt use sounds and syllables once the words run out: hey-yo, whoo-hah, nanananana, and that unspellable Skarumba sound thing. Just run through the alphabet, why don’t you.
• Thou shalt have at least one duet with another random artist, just to strengthen cheese appeal.
• Thou shalt only write about clichéd relationships that start at the local sokkie.
• Thou shalt as far as possible avoid any creative thought, innovative processes, interesting ideas or any pushing-of-boundaries. Don’t go there.

I think what irritated me the most during this whole process was the fact that Afrikaans music doesn’t HAVE to be shit. There’s stuff out there that’s really good and interesting. Unfortunately, a lot of the better stuff goes largely unnoticed because of the pure, unadulterated drivel that gets peddled to the masses. And they keep buying and playing and staunchly supporting it, because it’s “part of Afrikaans culture”.

It’s a part of said culture that I’d really love to wield a flamethrower on. In the meantime, I’ll settle for using the heap of review CD’s as anger-management missiles…

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dustbunniesproject

Exploring the rabbit hole of life…

That one time, in the gym…

April shenanigans and May Mojo

Snips of life

Vintage Words: Visiting with Nibs

Vintage Words: Falling in love is hard on the lungs

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…

Squeaky clean!

Day 1 & 2: charming pharmacists and mothers-in-law

Queens of primp and preen

Sounds like a travesty