Skip to main content

Wear 377: Hunting Less, Or More


When I was the bravest spider-hunter in the house, I would be the one with the kiddie's bug catcher, trying to trap the little buggers, and move them to places far from home. (Aside: remind me to tell you, another time, about the tiger slug.) I would be the one trying to convince myself that braver spider-hunters than me would just pick the thing up and transport it with their bare hands, and as the bravest spider-hunter in the house I should be doing that too—until it walked across my hand half-way through the kitchen and then all semblance of bravery disappeared, and all semblance of fear-on-two-legs took over.

So when I was sitting on the couch after a late-night Pokemon hunt recently, and Mr Earwig was sitting close by and the look of spider-hunting-ness entered his eyes with a direct focus on my skirt regions; and given that the move to Earwig House with said Mr Earwig meant that he became the bravest spider-hunter and I became the screaming maiden, or manden as appropriate, I was well within my new role to leap from the couch, screaming—as required—and ripping clothing off in mid-air pounce. This does make it very difficult, I understand, having been the bravest spider-hunter in the past, to locate said spider.

Said New Spider-Hunter helping to assess light conditions in a rendition of what he thinks I do here!

Never fear though, because, near naked in the part of my lounge room that offered the largest 360 view of anywhere-it-could-be, I managed to locate it by stepping on it. Screams recommenced. I do give credit where credit is due for spider-hunters who must hunt with bleeding ears. That particular spider suffered a quick death blow from the non-shiny end of a rather large torch. Sorry to the spider-preservers, but it was a White Tail and regardless of your stand on the fact that they are no longer believed to cause necrosis, I'm all for hedging my bets on that one. Other species would be escorted from the home with banning notices issued, just so you know.

Standing in only the non-spider harbouring clothing essentials in my lounge room while mop-up procedures commenced, I thought back to the outfit at the beginning of this post and pondered the whole less-is-more, more-is-more debate.

I'm not a social animal. I don't do parties, events or gatherings; no festivals, parades or shin-digs. Hence the only place I really wear outfits, for the most part, is work on non-uniform days. (I love non-uniform days.) But its a hard crowd to work, at work. There are detractors for when I wear things that don't conform to the norm, there are detractors for when I do. When I wore the first outfit on this post, the overwhelming reaction was 'Boring!'. Even the people who usually come up with epitaphs for my outfits—'harlequin, bedouin, mannequin, women-o'-sin—found me dull. You can't win.

So this shoot was to make the dull un-dull. I added, to my thrifted and pin tucked pink shirt and white Target jeans, a belt-as-necklace (origin? Myers? Primark? Somewhere in-between?), an ASOS denim crop top and a pair of satin heels from Jeffrey Campbell. If I had worn this: 1) While at work, I would have been considered outrageous, and 2) While trying to rid myself of spider-lurkers, I would been fighting the slow death of my skin from spider bite. The less-is-more, more-is-more debate is harder to sort than I thought.


Photographs shot by Mr Earwig
And shared where people can be whoever they are:
Patti at Not Dead Yet Style’s Visible Monday
Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb’s #iwillwearwhatilike
Cherie at Style Nudge’s Shoe And Tell


  1. It's absolutely true you can't please everyone!! But your fabulous personality should be showing through in every outfit--except when killing said spiders....eeeek!
    Those shoes are calling my name (the blue ones, of course) and that crop top over the shirt???BRILLIANCE!!!

  2. I must say one of the number one reasons I'd never move to Australia is because of the spiders, bugs and snakes. I'm grateful that our winter makes it impossible for the bigger ones to thrive here.

    Since I'm living on my own I have to kill the millepedes and that is bad enough.

    You will never please everyone so I aim just to please myself. I get it right half the time!



Post a Comment

Thanks so much for stopping by! I love your feedback and comments. I read them all lovingly and try to respond to as many as I can. At the very least I go over and see where you have come from. Love it!

Popular posts from this blog

Day 279: Entertainment and Wishes

I have brain-freeze from a three hours/three hours/ten hours-during-the-day sleeping pattern over the last three days twenty-four hour periods (that ole chestnut, again) and so even though it is not Sunday, I am getting in early and loosening the clenched up brain cells by cheating on topic ideas with Sunday Social. Their link actually goes up tommorrow so be sure to check back and see what everyone else had to say when Sunday eventually does roll around.

Q: What is currently on your wish list?

A: I need nothing. Nothing. So let's talk about want. I want to be able to find some amazing thrifted pieces on my upcoming (eight sleeps) trip to the States. Luck and fate will have a lot to do with it, but I would be very happy to find some, or all, of the following as well: a chambray shirt, a real bomber jacket (just got one that I had different ideas about when I bought it from SheInside—it's really just a fleece jacket), belts, a vintage leather jacket, more tutus, sumptuous f…

Wear 1: Dropped My Shopping.

Day One of three hundred and sixty-five pictures of Irene (left) and I (right) on the internet. We're using it as a way to develop or realise a fashion style, and as a friendly competition as to who wore it better? Like every journey or quest, this year's project will teach me a little, make me think a bit and lend me some laughs and enjoyment. I hope also to slowly make sure everything in my clothes closet and my shoe closet is utilised: even perhaps the bags and boxes of outrageous, or not, op-shopped (thrifted) items secreted in cupboards and under beds. Other hopes: fewer words (believe it or not), more pictures and time to catch up on unfinished blogs from the last three years!

I had my outfit planned, but as I dressed this morning for work, I, well, chickened out. I lost the cape and replaced it with a black cardigan. I thought my work colleagues would think I looked strange and slightly overdressed. Lesson One: I am not brave in person (posting a silly picture on the in…

Day 348: My Favourite Colour

Who: Melanie at Bag and Beret

What: The Travelling Yellow Skirt Freak Show

When: A while ago (have I told you trying to buy a house keeps getting in my way!)

Where: At, around and in the vicinity of ACCA

Why: Do you even have to ask?

Who Else: B—— for the photos, Melbourne Bike Share for the props (although I did pay for that, and we spent so long riding around getting moving pictures that they charged me again so I am not really sure why I am telling you about them: this isn't a plug, except that they are quite cool!)

What the ?: Sunshine incarnate in the form of a yellow skirt travels the world searching for women, bold and beautiful, who make it their own for a day, or a week and share their own take on its joyous light with everyone out there who thinks that being an exceptional individual with the daring and bravado to walk your own way, strut your own stuff and be your own you is a good thing! That's my take on it, but you can read the full story on the link to the skir…