Cultural fix

A lot of people don't know this but I'm half Eritrean. 
You're half WHAT??
Half Eritrean.
What's that?
It's a country.
Never heard of it.
You're not alone, most people haven't.  It's a tiny little country, in case you were wondering.  It's nestled in along the coastline of the Red Sea in Africa.  I'm sad to say that I've never been there before and know very little about the culture, but there are two things I am very well acquainted with... the food and the coffee!  Ask me what the one food is that I could happily eat for the rest of my life and I will tell you injera.  Glorious, delicious injera.  And then I'll wash it down with a little cup of your best Eritrean coffee. 
Injera is this sour sort of yeasty pancake that gets piled up with spicy sauces, vegetables and salad.  Then you use the pancake to scoop this irresistible mountain of goodness up and shovel it into your mouth.  Mmm and then you savour every last bite!  I am yet to come across somebody who isn't utterly in love with injera from the very first taste. 
Then comes the coffee.  Oh my, it's like no other coffee you've tasted.  It's coffee the way it was always intended to be brewed!  Fresh green beans are roasted in a little pan over red hot coals, then ground in a mortar and pestle before being boiled in a long necked vessel.  The end is stuffed with horse hair to filter out the grinds when the coffee is poured into tiny cups piled high with sugar.  All the while a chai smelling incense is burning away on coals beside you filling the air with a smell that makes you forget you're sitting in a West Auckland sports field. Traditionally you drink three cups in a row, but if your caffeine tolerance isn't up to scratch you're probably jittering after the second hit.
So you see every year we wait for the International Cultural Festival like it's Christmas.  We head straight for the Eritrean tent, say our hello's and take our place in the semi circle around the coffee lady.  And we don't budge for the next few hours!
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Mimosa

There aren't many good cafes over this side of the bridge.  In fact if I'm perfectly honest I can only think of a couple, and Mimosa* is at the top of my list.  It's one of those places that just make you feel at home, or at least the kind of home I wish I had!  It's a little vintage, a little rustic, it has local influences and is just the right kind of quirky.  We come here when country life is getting the better of us and we're craving a bit of cafe loitering and people watching.  We hang out by the window sipping our coffee's and devouring our sushi rolls (well that would mainly be Ayana, she rates their sushi pretty highly).  You see this cafe has a little twist, it's run by the sweetest Japanese woman and therefore the food has a delicious Japanese influence.  Everything also happens to be organic and fair trade which is something I'm finding increasingly important. So if you ever find yourself stranded on the North Shore and would rather pretend you were somewhere more exciting then this cafe serves as a great refuge.
Must try: A Japanese breakfast (which I haven't actually tried yet but am dying to!)
Parking: Plenty of 30 minute parking on the street outside, 120 minute prepay parking on the side streets or if you're sneaky you could park at the mall for free.
Highchair: No proper high chair but a cute retro kids stool for the slightly older ones.
Vegan/ Gluten free/ Vegetarian friendly: You betcha!
* Psst, Mimosa isn't just the name of a prissy cocktail, in Japanese it means Silk Tree.

Address: 460 Lake Rd, Takapuna
Website

Hitting the brick wall

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Actually I'm not really hitting a brick wall, in fact I feel like I've just busted through a giant brick wall... and boy am I liking the view on the other side! Big changes are coming and I can't wait to make them public.  In the mean time I have been obsessing over brick interior walls lately.  There's just something so ancient, yet cosy about them.  They have that romantic, New York apartment sort of appeal.  Ahhh yes, I don't know if I could ever live in a new house, I'm always much too drawn to the old.

Downtown

It's days like this that leave me wishing we lived in town again.  I miss the huge variety of different people (the North Shore isn't exactly known for its diversity), I miss the cafes and I miss just being able to walk down to the local shops.  Country life is great too of course and has many, many benefits but occasionally the grass (or concrete I suppose) looks a little more inviting on the other side.  Anyway although we had a lovely afternoon of exploring downtown Auckland, the real aim of our mission was to check out the Vintage Fashion museum exhibition.  What a fantastic and altogether unique location for such an event!  These gigantic, eery old Silo's make such a great exhibition space, although probably less appealing to those with claustrophobia.  As for the clothes themselves, hmmm they didn't particularly blow my socks off.  I mean yes, there were some beauties in the mix, particularly the blue 50s  El Jay frock, but on the whole it was a little sparse.  From what I understand a number of garments where being photographed at the time we were there so perhaps that's why there were so many naked mannequins. I'm glad we went of course, especially because I think it's important to support these events so that they can grow and educate more of the public, but it wasn't quite what I had hoped.  All in all we had a great day though, so no regrets there!

 

EVENT: NZ Vintage Fashion Museum exhibition

New Zealand made vintage has always been a bit of a mystery to me.  It's not that I have anything against it or think we had no particular fashion sense, it's because it is so incredibly difficult to track down!  It seems that anything before the mid 60s just sort of vanished (or is still tucked away in grannies closet).  Back when I had the vintage store it was always a great day if I stumbled across an earlier piece with a 'Made in NZ' label hand sewn into the back, or an old designer I recognised.  Part of me just wanted to pack it away for safe keeping.  I know of course that during the war and in the time afterwards, almost all clothing was sewn at home.  You didn't head down to your local clothing store and pick something off the rack, rather you would wait impatiently for the latest pattern books to come out at your fabric store and devour the pages in search of the latest styles from Europe and America.  Then you would zip home, jump on your old sewing machine and whip up the closest resembling frocks possible.  How times have changed.

Anyway if you're as curious about these old treasured garments as I am then you have a precious few days to head down to the Silo in Auckland for the New Zealand Vintage Museum exhibition.  I had the pleasure of meeting founder Doris Du Pont for coffee one afternoon a couple of years ago (whilst setting up a Dashfield pop up shop on High St) and was blown away, if not a little intimidated by her knowledge and fashion experience.  I can almost guarantee that this exhibition is going to be a goodie with her at the helm.

I'm hoping to make it down there tomorrow so will be sure to report back for those of you that can't make it.

 

Venue:  Silo 6 at Silo Park in Wynyard Quarter

Address:  Silo Park, Jellicoe Street, Auckland, New Zealand

Date:  1 - 9 March, open daily (except Mon and Tues) from noon to 6 pm

Ticket:  Free

Website

Thoughts on blogging

 

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 I sat on my bed sweating over my first blog post about five or six years ago.  It was shortly before getting my first real article published (entitled 'A Beginners Guide to Vintage) and I was mildly terrified of putting myself out there for all the world to see.  Of course I had a My Space account but it was more for stalking really, I didn't actually post things myself.  I don't particularly remember what my first post was about, something to do with travel no doubt.  I do remember the rush of pushing publish and then running back every five minutes to see if anybody had taken a peek.  With every new reader I ran around the room squealing, 'oh my god, oh my god, oh my god'.  And then when people started leaving comments I was just beside myself.  What a rush!  What a thrill!  To think that timid little old me could spill some thoughts out on my computer and people from all over the world would actually take the time to read it, think about it and respond!  After that I wrote regularly for a while, it even led to a regular column on a New Zealand fashion website for a while (which I quickly realised was rubbish for me because I took very little interest in anything that wasn't vintage, let alone New Zealand fashion).  Since then I've stopped and started blogging many times.  My subject matter has changed occasionally.  Sometimes I would get caught up trying to copy somebody else who inspired me.  And occasionally I would just run out things to say and throw in the towel altogether.  Basically, aside from dabbling in Yahoo chat rooms when the internet first began (*gasp* yes kids I'm practically prehistoric), blogging was my gateway drug into the addictive world of social media. But that's another story.

I blog for several reason, the main one being because I love to write and to photograph.  Unlike when you're working for a magazine, here there is nobody telling you what you can and can't do.  There are no deadlines other than the ones you might choose to set for yourself.  It's a beautiful creative outlet and often connects you with other like minded people.  I started Dashfield Vintage the blog around the same time as starting Dashfield Vintage the shop.  I wanted a space to advertise up coming markets, new shop items and maybe the odd vintage inspired article.  It served its purpose well.  Eventually my interest in spending every weekend at market stalls, and weekdays competing with other vintage sellers to try and hunt down an ever diminishing source of stock wore me down.  When I then became pregnant I realised that it was time to take a break. What about the blog?  I still enjoyed writing it, but my interests and subject matter were changing.  I felt I had to start a new blog, I thought I would try my had at lifestyle blogging.  After a few posts it just didn't feel right to put my baby daughter and young family on public display. And then it dawned on me, Dashfield is my blog, I can write whatever the hell I like on it, I don't have to stay vintage exclusive.  It's my home on the internet, it's a reflection of me in way and I want to continue to use it for documenting all the beautiful things that inspire me.

So for those of you who have followed me faithfully as I flit from one place to another (thank you), I'm happy to tell you that I've gone full circle and found my way home again.  I have changed, my life has changed greatly since the early beginnings of Dashfield, so changes are coming over the next few months to both the blog and other related projects too.
xx

Helena Christensen's bohemian New Zealand home

 Australian Vogue

Some people are just born cool.  They radiate something that stops you in your tracks and leaves you wondering whether you want to be with them or simply be them.  It's a crush, pure and simple.  One of my big crushes, one of my idols is 90s supermodel Helena Christensen.  At a glance you think 'oh yeah, your typical model... a great rack, endless legs, skin that never ages.  Blah blah big deal'.  But then I stumbled upon her home  in The Selby on day and was blown away.  Not only is she still a model at 40 or 50, but she's also an amazing photographer, a one time vintage store owner AND has an interior style that you would rarely expect from a celebrity.  Her homes aren't vast impersonal mansions that have been put together by a snotty interior decorator. She doesn't show off her personal cinema, ten car garage and a wardrobe the size of a living room.  No, her spaces are full of personality, they're lived in, they're dotted with memories and of course unique vintage pieces.  Anyway so when I recently discovered that she has a little hideaway over here in New Zealand, it didn't surprise me to find that it reflected the same beautiful style as her New York apartment.

 

So am I right?  Isn't her home just a little bit amazing?!

xx

Escape to Aroha Island

Holidays are not really our specialty.  I mean that's not to say that we don't like them, we love them... in theory!  It's just that we somehow either get rained out, or we end up in some pokey little beach town in the middle of winter where we're bored to tears and decide to come home after the first night.  We're action kind of people.  We don't like hanging around in resorts sipping fruity cocktails.  We like to throw on our trusty sneakers, grab a camera and go exploring until our feet hurt.  That's of course a little more tricky with a toddler in tow.  So we spent an evening online and found ourselves drawn to Aroha Island, a little kiwi and wildlife reserve up north near Kerikeri.  As we wove our way through the seemingly never ending country roads we glanced at each other.  Where the hell are we??  Where are the miles long white sand beaches?  Where are the rickety little beach side baches? And then suddenly there we are on this beautiful little island with the water lapping up against our grassy campsite.  Within moments our welcoming party arrives in the form of a gang of teenage ducklings. Hi, hi, what are you doing? Where are you from? What kind of food have you got there?  Need any help eating it?  Ayana was in heaven!  When they greeted us every morning by coming into our tent while we were still in bed it all felt a little close though.  The next few days were spent by the water, figuring out how to bbq pancakes for breakfast, exploring Kerikeri, and finally finding our white sand beach!  It was a great little trial for our first trip away as a family.  The minute we got home we started planning our next trip... further afield this time.  Europe? Thailand? Samoa?  Who knows but it's going to happen soon!
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