I would like to tell you that this is a happy story but it is not. At the beginning of this experience I was a happy go lucky young lady. Well a lot has happened since this morning and I write to you as a broken and fragile woman. This is not a tale of heroism; it is merely a tale of survival. There was no triumph over adversity in my adventures today however a simple and gracious, acceptance of my own mortality did occur.
This morning I awoke with only one simple goal – to purchase a pack of millinery brooch pins from Spotlight. A ten minute drive to industrial suburbia should do the trick and then I would be free to explore the surrounding stores within the 62,000 square meter compound of home making ‘bliss’. Right. I set out with all the determination of a true crafter (I woke up and watched outright abused my Netflix subscription for two hours in my pyjamas on the couch). By eleven thirty I was on the road, passing by a number of precarious establishments claiming to be ‘motels’ but better known as the safe house of many an affair.
It wasn’t long before I was navigating my trusty (often breaks down with no rhyme, reason or explanation) Ford Fiesta into the car park of an establishment that is likely responsible for more marriage breakdowns than Ikea and reality TV combined; The Gepps Cross Home Maker Centre.
If aliens visited earth and landed here, without a doubt they would get right back in and go back where they came from. A monstrosity of concrete and Mecca of capitalism taken most advantage of in the form of twelve month lay-buys and interest free plans by residents of surrounding working class suburbs; visiting this place is a risky voyage for the most mentally of sound individuals – unfortunately it attracts those who are not.
I undertook the voyage alone, not sure enough in the strength of my long term relationship to take that level of risk. I could have taken a friend however I value my friendships far too much to gamble what we’ve built on such a volatile yet petty expedition.
I entered Spotlight with all the trepidation that such an undertaking deserved. I was keen to get in and get out quickly so that I could soon reward myself with an overpriced warm drink in a nearby cafe. My goal was to engage as few people in conversation as possible – I would have no such luck. I made my way to the area that I expected to find the pins and in the process achieved my entire required daily step count, yet what I was looking for was not to be found.
Next step: engage a staff member – a task that turned out to be far more difficult than finding a genuine connection on Tinder. A few more laps of the store layout, a conversation with two staff members who looked at me as if I had three heads (to their credit I’d forgone makeup application for the day) and finally I found reached my goal, however satisfied isn’t a word I would use to describe myself. Looking at the selection of millinery brooches I was forlorn. Six for $3.50. In the past I’ve purchased 50 for around $10 in the same store however I wasn’t ready for my trip to be wasted. I grabbed two packs and headed for the checkout.
This, dear friends, is the moment where I truly began to see my grip on reality fading away. Two very young and determined yet hopeless staff members had around thirty middle aged women, a few broken husbands and a handful of bratty children lined up and expecting to be served. A saner person would have dropped their potential purchase there and then and headed to the nearest fast food restaurant to eat their sorrows into oblivion however by this point I was determined – I had my overpriced pins and I was going to buy them – even if it killed me.
By the fifteenth minute waiting I started looking at the woman in front of me, wondering, if I got the rest of the ever expanding line to team up with me, could we take her down and survive off eating her body until we were rescued?
The situation began to get dire when a woman marched through the line to get the drinks fridge near the front – she swiftly took water back to her shopping buddy who was clearly becoming dehydrated – in the mid-winter chill.
Never before have had I experienced a group of people share such a strong, negative emotion as they did when a woman marched through the shop door and immediately approach the front of the line exclaiming “I’ve just got a quick question!” – she was swiftly shut down and sent to the back of the line, where she is probably still waiting, five hours later.
I was almost at the front of the line and I heard a woman paying $950 for the collection of curtain rods and throw cushions in her trolley. I couldn’t relate – I use milk crates for all manner of furniture in my home.
Finally I was served, paying resentfully for my overpriced pins, attempting to feign a mixed look of sympathy and disappointment towards the assistant as I left.
I took a deep breath of what felt like my first taste of fresh air (which is reality was steeped in outer city fumes) as I walked out into the overcast day and appreciated my life in a way that I never had before. Whence previously I had looked forward to an afternoon alone strolling the 62,000 meters looking at Italian designed, Chinese made furniture that I could never justify buying, I was now just searching for the quickest escape.
As I got into my car and drove off, I experienced a feeling of freedom the likes of which I had never felt before. While my feeling was temporarily dulled by a red light causing me to stop and reflect on the hour that had felt like eternity, I had a new appreciation for online shopping and drive thru fast food.
Now as I sit here, now full of food that I took myself out to eat, to console my broken soul I Google “millinery brooch pins” and look what I find. Fuck bricks and mortar stores, it’s eBay for me here on out.
The airport is a great melting pot of people, all mixing together with one key objective; to safely board a flying chunk of metal, without engaging in confronting communication with their fellow travellers. While it could be said that every airport around the world has the same old commuters passing through, Adelaide is just a little bit special.
Here are my fave 10 people you’ll meet at Adelaide Airport:
1. The Fashionistas
Ready and searching for a bargain before they’ve even left the state, the ‘fashionista’ probably stopped by Harbour Town on the way to the airport and they’re keeping an eye out for rare ‘sale’ signs in the airport outlets. In two days time they’ll be holding up the check-in line at Melbourne airport as they attempt to repack their bags after piling on all the clothes they bought over the weekend. It doesn’t seem odd that they’re wearing three hats, two coats and, most curiously, five bras, on the flight home, in order to avoid excess baggage costs.
2. The Footy Fans
A group that is heard before they’ve been seen, loudly singing the team song or discussing post game stats. Have you ever been stuck on a plane with a team of excited Port Adelaide fans (#sorrynotsorry for the blatant stereotyping) on their way to Melbourne in September? I’ll give you this advice for free; at all costs, try to avoid it — for your own sanity.
3. The High Flyers
You can spot an out-of-towner in a number of ways; they’re usually more stressed than your average Adelaide Joe and let’s be honest, they’ll probably be drawing attention to themselves by speaking loudly on the phone, whinging about the shitty day they’ve had in, “This hell hole of a city”– being Adelaide. How dare they!
Dressed uncomfortably in a suit not made for the climate, they’re itching to get back to their corporate-jerk job and inner-city home that has them mortgaged to the hilt. What they don’t know is — we don’t want them here anyway!
I’ve never really thought of myself as brave but it’s a word that gets thrown my way on a far more regular basis than I would like. Heading to the bar for a drink after a spot at a comedy night, it’s rare that I won’t have a complete stranger exclaim to me; “you’re so brave, I couldn’t do what you just did.”
It often leaves me scratching my head in confusion, I certainly don’t feel that getting up on stage, rubbishing on about failed relationships, sharing crude, debaucherous tales and randomly sprouting out of tune lyrics from my favourite pop divas makes me all that brave at all. Are they being honest or are they saying that I’m brave because I wasn’t good? I don’t think I am brave. More than anything, I feel like it might be a little bit self indulgent. After a recent encounter at gig I began to wonder about the term ‘brave’ –as I explored it within my own mind I started to travel down many paths within my own self.
I decided that to chat to some ladies who I think of as brave and whose life journeys have involved tough choices or hurdles along the way that have helped to define who they have become. Now I don’t know anyone who has run into a burning building or risked their life to save that of another however as I’m sure many of us know, an act of bravery for some is a simple as getting up the strength of get out of bed and face the world each day. Immediately I thought of my best friend Stacey, a lady who I genuinely believe is one of the toughest and most resilient that I have ever met. She hasn’t always been this way – in fact knowing her since we were in primary school, I always kind of considered her to be a bit of a hypochondriac drama queen (sorry babe!) however all of that changed almost two years ago. Stacey and I were living together and despite the warnings to the contrary, living with my best friend was one of the most fun experiences ever – but all of a sudden it changed. I felt like I’d been hit by a train so I can’t even begin to imagine how Stacey felt – within the space of a week, at age twenty four, she was diagnosed with MS and doctors also found a four centimetre tumour at the back of her head, attaching itself to her spinal cord.
The removal of the tumour was horrendous; the tumour was wrapped around the nerve that controlled the left side of her face meaning that it too had to be removed. My beautiful Stacey could only smile with half of her face and all of a sudden it seemed like her amazing flame had been dulled. It hasn’t been easy for her – that much is evident, but even then I still wondered – did she feel brave? When I asked her, she told me, “People call me brave all the time, which makes me feel a bit embarrassed…I never felt like I was being brave, I just felt like I was getting through each challenge.” Which I guess is what being brave actually is – right?
Stacey is basically blowing me away at the moment. Not only has she been through two more surgeries, worked hard to learn how to understand and live with her MS but she has also met an awesome guy – John and while he is certainly more than just a quick fix, Stacey did make me laugh when she explained; “People called me brave for going on blind dates but I don’t think that makes me brave – I just wanted to get laid!”
I don’t think I will ever be able to fully comprehend the level of courage that it has taken for Stacey to get on with her life and not just survive but absolutely thrive and I truly hope that I never have the opportunity to relate, I do however dream of having the bravery of the next two ladies that I spoke to. I first encountered Hannah Collins when I started working in my current day job – in fact she used to do what I do now, and she trained me up to take over her role. Since leaving the role she has volunteered in Africa, subedited a magazine and just recently moved to New York – with no safety net. I can only dream of having the guts to do what Hannah has done and as she explained, “I knew it was out of the ordinary but I also knew it was what I needed to do at the time.” Which once again brings up the idea of bravery versus self indulgence however, as Hannah enlightened me, sometimes to be self indulgent, you have to employ a level of bravery; “I felt a lot of guilt over leaving my family and friends, especially my family but I also knew that if I didn’t go and do it that I would only regret not going.”
There’s nothing more disappointing than a feeling of regret – I know that all too well.
Another clever lady who is taking the world by storm is the wonderful Laura Pietrobon – one of the most outwardly warm people I have ever encountered. I first met Laura when we were both sixteen and doing work experience at a radio station. Our paths crossed again at University but now she finds herself living in London, a dream I have always had for myself. She explained that “The first thing a lot of people said when I announced my move was something along the lines of “wow you’re so brave, aren’t you scared?” To be honest, I never thought this move was particularly brave.” However assessing the situations of others who have also undertaken the same challenge that she has she was able to see the bravery in their choices, “so maybe it’s all about perspective in the end” Laura concluded.
The concept of perspective actually, weirdly enough, put things into perspective for me. There are two aspects of bravery; one is perceived bravery, while the other is acted. So while you might not ‘feel brave’, the question is, if a person describes you as brave relative to how they define ‘brave’ in their own mind, while you might not actually be engaging in an act of bravery you could be brave simply because it is in the eye of the beholder.
At this point I was certainly envying the sheer guts that it took for these two ladies to do what they had done and luckily I had one of my oldest friends Hannah Willsmore (who I have previously described as my womb buddy since we’ve known each other that long) put things into perspective for me. Hannah has recently started her own business – rather sitting idle in a job that she was beginning to resent, she explained “I could’ve just stayed there being unhappy like so many of the others are” however she boldly chose not to – if only for her own sake. I guess this confirmed for me that it is hard, risky and yes, brave, to do something a little bit different but it’s probably harder to let it just pass on by while the world keeps moving.
Finally it was starting to click in a general sense – those around me who I viewed as brave, sure they were overcoming hurdles and individual adversity but each act of ‘bravery’ that I’d investigated had in ways just been a way of moving forward in life rather than choosing to remain stagnant, despite the challenges that may hold. I though, had been called ‘brave’ for the act of performance so I needed to know, is this something that other performers experience? After speaking to several male comedians it quickly became clear that ‘brave’ is a term almost exclusively reserved for female performers or those who deal with challenging and confronting material – it’s rare that a guy gets called ‘brave’ just for picking up the microphone but I think that might be a topic for another day.
In a performance sense I immediately thought of three ladies who I might be able to relate to and from whom I could learn. First up was Haley Brown, a wonderful and talented performer whose direction and style has profoundly affected my own. Haley faces her own physical challenges meaning that ‘brave’ is a word that gets thrown her way and for the first time since I began this exploration, the concept of the term being overtly problematic was raised, as Haley explained; “It’s a very close cousin of what folks in the disability community call “inspiration porn,” when disabled people do fairly ordinary things and are celebrated as being “brave” or “inspiring” for doing it while disabled.” Continuing on that theme of ‘brave’ not necessarily being a compliment, she elaborated “Often the word is awarded to individuals that society deems incapable of doing something who are “doing it anyway.”
I get that. While I may not have the same hurdles to face as Haley (whose work you can find here), there is that matter of my gender. It may be 2016 but don’t even begin to imagine that we live in a world where everyone is used to hearing the female voice as one of power, strength or, god forbid, humour. Sure times are changing however on more than one occasion (many, in fact) I’ve been outright told that “women aren’t funny”. That hurts and I can’t really put into words why – though mostly because it’s outright wrong. I like to think that I can prove those who hold that belief wrong. One woman who I know can do this is Nicole Henriksen whose giddily bizarre show ‘Techno Glitter Penguins’ made me laugh like nothing else ever had, before she slapped me in the face and tore my heart apart with her other totally different but equally brilliant show ‘Makin It Rain’. Despite obvious talent and a drive to succeed that is downright inspiring, Nicole has had experiences that have caused her to feel patronised when being referred to as brave; “I feel especially as a woman, and a woman of colour, the more it’s used “oh you’re so brave… really, really, brave… wow, so brave”… Why am I so brave, you know? Is that person implying that I’m brave for supporting myself, or performing, or what-have-you because my work isn’t good or isn’t financially viable? If so, why is that?” It’s a perspective that echoed my own thoughts, despite our somewhat different performance experiences.
Finally I reached out to the lovely Alice Tovey, wise beyond her years, who helped me to put it all together in relation to my own experiences. She identified the sheer fact that she and her material had been belittled at the discretion of particular audience members, choosing to let the fact that she is a young woman cloud their opinion of the content. However she carries on, continuing to present shows that push the boundaries in one way or another. She explained, “I think when most people are asked what bravery is, you’ll get back a picture of an Alexander the Great like figure, who against all odds conquered the world. Or Oscar Wilde, who opposed a regime to preserve the true self. Or An Sung Su Chi, who stood up to an oppressive and unfair government. These pictures are all perfectly valid and good definitions of bravery, but I think comedic bravery is a completely different thing all together.”
“Comedic bravery, I believe, is making an audience laugh at something, whether dark or absurd or unusual, and asking them why. That’s the power that a comedian has. What an audience laughs at will tell them more about themselves than what makes them cry.” But does Alice consider herself brave? The short answer is, yes – “In a way” How so? She explains; “I hope that I am doing just that, that I am pointing out some of the nastier things in our society. It can be confronting.”
Now I can’t say that I’m pushing the boundaries in the same way as Alice, but on a good day I am making people laugh at some pretty absurd ideas – and hey, maybe that is a braver concept than I first believed. I am yet to feel like I possess the same level of bravery that I believe some of the other women I have encountered do, and while I don’t think I will ever feel comfortable being told that I am brave for doing what I think of as ‘dumb comedy’ I suppose I can make brave my own. I can chose to hear it as a compliment rather than in a patronising manner and I can choose to use it as a motivation to push on. Most of all though I can be bravely self indulgent because with life experience under my belt I now know that without being brave enough to indulge my soul in doing the things that truly make me happy, I would ultimately be facing the tougher challenges of regret, disappointment and true sadness. While life is never as straightforward as simply ‘choosing happiness’ –I’ve learned that it can be pretty brave if you’re able to put in action a path that allows you to do so.
I should probably start this by explaining that I am certainly not the most sophisticated of women; I buy my make-up from the supermarket and I wouldn’t even think twice about eating an entire Dominos Deep Crust all to myself. However, when I was offered the chance to try an eye enhancing treatment thanks to the excellent folk at Essential Beauty, I was intrigued.
Furthermore, when I found out that it would mean I could get flawless eyes without having to wear (and therefore remove) any eye make-up for at least two weeks, well that’s when this lazy girl was sold!
To read the rest of the article, head on over to Adelady.
Those who know me may have heard me raving about one of my favourite past times – No Lights No Lycra (NLNL) because it is SO FREAKIN FUN. Head to the link for the full story but in short, basically you go into a room, the lights get switched off and you dance your ass off to excellent tunes for an hour – without the fear of anyone seeing your potentially heinous dance moves. I love it. I head along whenever I get the chance, to the Adelaide one in Stepney and shake what my mumma gave me. It’s a chance, for most, to switch off mentally however I have found that with the tunes pumping and my feet moving, some odd things pass through my mind – so I thought I would share them with you…(and hey, maybe you might want to come along some time?)
Oh Wow, it’s so dark…OHMIGAWD WHOSE HAND IS THAT ON MY NECK? Oh wait, it’s mine…
Argh how great is this song, hey if Missy Elliot can learn all the words to a Missy Elliot song then I should be able to as well. I’d be a sick rapper…
Not enough people pull out the ‘shopping trolley’ move in the club. I must incorporate it next time I hit the d-floor
Oh wow, I’m stuffed…how has it only been four songs….
SHIT YEAH THIS SONG TOTALLY SPEAKS TO MY SOUL, I AM TOTALLY ADDICTED TO BASS
Note to self, I must download ALL Taylor Swift songs when I get home, especially the earlier stuff
There really isn’t enough Prodigy on the work playlist, I think I’ll add ‘Smack My Bitch Up’ when I’m in the office next
Shit I am good at this, I wonder if ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ is still a thing…actually I may as well go straight to the top, hopefully Britney is still taking applications for dancers for her Vegas show, I’m a shoe in
Oh shit, note to self, don’t pull that move again, Alicia you need your ankles functioning for the purpose of WALKING
Oh what is this song, I must ask the girl who programmed the list, I really want to add it to the playlist for my fantasy wedding reception (actual legit thing)
Holy shit, I like most music but for some reason Dubstep really makes me want to destroy every electrical appliance I own – even the ones I really like…
Gee George Michael really was so sassy in his prime – and I honestly think that the use of tambourine in Faith is pure musical genius
Oh wow, this song is great, I haven’t heard THIS club track since 2003 when I thought Celicas were the coolest cars in the world because the cute boy down the street drove one…he turned out to be a bit of a knob. No surprises there.
WHAT?! Last song already…okay I better enjoy this…
Just sayin, how bloody awesome is my damned fine, strong, beautiful, powerful and capable body that allows me to dance like crazy for an hour? AND how awesome are the bits that jiggle when I shake ma thang? They the best.
OHMIGAWD IT IS SO BRIGHT…BRIGHT LIGHT BRIGHT LIGHT.
12 HOURS LATER:
Does anyone know a good physio? It hurts when I try to human.
48 HOURS LATER
Eugh can’t it be Monday already? I wanna dance again!!!!
Today I went for a walk, look at me go! Unfortunately, being a public holiday, the rest of Adelaide seemed to have the same idea. The thing is, when you get a whole heap of people in the same place, suddenly some people just seem…worse than others. Rather than enjoy the scenery, I kept myself distracted by noticing the flaws in those around me and I choose to share them now with you, in this blog post – enjoy xx
Car Park Wankers
Without being reminded by my fellow walkers, I already find it weird that I am DRIVING MY CAR to go somewhere to WALK. Growing up in the beautiful surrounds of the Adelaide Hills, you just go for a walk where you live however since moving to suburbia, I’ve had to get comfortable with the concept of driving to nature – rather than just stepping out of the front door and into it.
On top of this, on a day like this, the park was absolutely full to the brim with a number of cars (predominantly ‘tough’ 4WDs) parked in non-designated parking areas – ALL OVER THE NATURE. The cars were parked on the nature that their inhabitants were there to enjoy. I just don’t get it. For the record, I parked further away and…here’s an abstract concept…walked to the walk.
Croc Sock Dag
Someone is very embarrassed to be related to this human. Not only was he wearing crocs, he was wearing them with socks on a hike up a rocky hill. Go home.
She may not have been able to hear it but surely she could feel it? Sure she was blasting T-Swiz pretty loudly through her noise cancelling headphones but that is no excuse for farting loudly whilst walking past another group of walkers. None at all.
Taking photos with an Ipad is bad at the best of times however when its half way through a three hour hike you really have to question everything you ever thought you knew. Furthermore, if the photographer in question is dressed head to toe in bike riding Lycra with not a single road nor road bike in sight, perhaps it is in fact time to give up on this world.
This lady was wearing the same sunglasses as me so walked out of her way, just to tell me. It wasn’t a huge shock as I could in fact easily see that we were wearing the same glasses myself. Wearing the same glasses is not reason enough to become friends and someone should explain that to this woman. After pointing out out common eye wear to me, she then tried to continue the conversation – lady I just wanna enjoy nature on my own – enough!
Next up I was stuck behind Michelle and Lucas; Lucas barely ever empties the dishwasher and having to constantly ask Lucas to do so distresses Michelle as she is very conscious of not nagging him. My life is enriched with this knowledge.
Selfie Stick Owner
They are big, they are awkward and they are pointy and you look like an idiot.
Star Wars Spoiler
I’m torn, I can’t decide if this is adorable or super shitty. Whilst catching my breath in the car park before heading back to my car I could over hear a woman reading out the Wikipedia plot overview of Star Wars to her incredibly eager child. Now I haven’t seen Star Wars however I am incredibly familiar with the Wikipedia plot overview – because I’ve read it just to keep up with pop culture and to make sure I’m down with the youth. So anyways, my gripe? While it was kinda cute how much the kid was loving it and how adorable the entertainment method was I was concerned for THE PEOPLE – the woman’s voice was kinda loud and what if the other people didn’t want to know any Star Wars spoiler alerts? WHAT IF?
10/10 Douche Bros
For a solid three minutes, the absolute worst of my life, I was stuck within hearing distance of two ‘roided up twats who felt the need to rate every single woman that they spotted on a scale out of ten, pulling apart every aspect of their physical appearance in a terribly degrading way that only a truly insecure person could. They were terrible people and I hope that their dicks shrivel up and their hair falls out. For the record, I’m a seven with a great butt who could ‘lose a bit off the thighs and should check out fake tanning ’ while they were far too muscular for my liking with faces that only a paper bag could improve and personalities that could never be saved.
Up the hill, down the hill, super fast on the flats and constantly making us non-runners feel inadequate. Runners are not your friends, they are super human beasts put on this earth to keep the rest of us in our place – and they deserve every shin splint that comes their way.
So if you ever decide to go on a walk and spot me out and about, perhaps have a nice trait that I can write about next time I do this?
I’m not a crazy Harry Potter fan or anything, I mean it’s not like I’ve got a quote from the books tattooed on my arm or anything…oh wait, I do. Well this is awkward, I guess now the whole world knows that I REALLY BLOODY LIKE HARRY POTTER. Phew, well now that we’ve got that out of the way, I guess that it’s time to admit that I went to a Harry Potter themed improv show on the weekend. Yep, that’s right, this cute and quirky show explored the back story of a previously low key character from the mind of JK Rowling.
Each night the character in question will inevitably be different as it can be any one of over 150 minor Potter characters. On the night I attended we were lucky enough to experience the tale of Phineas Nigellus Black – and what a boisterous ride it was!
The talented team of improvisers from Scriptease brought bundles full of energy and genuine laughs to the stage.
I do adore Harry Potter but I’m certainly no crazy expert. Off the top of my head, I wouldn’t know the name of Dumbledores Mother (it’s Kendra, for future reference) but many attendees would have. There were plenty of experts in the crowd who were given the opportunity to defend the honor of the Potter tale to call out the performers when they committed a magical faux-pas which made for many a laugh throughout the hour. To this, a number of performers seemed to be showing off in their knowledge of the world of Potter while others dodged any mention of this completely – which only added for laughs and contrast!
A delightful and fun show for Potter fans and ignorant muggles alike! For tickets and more info, head to FringeTix – and don’t forget, there are HEAPS of awesome shows still to see this Fringe…how about checking out some from this list:
Performing to a sold-out crowd within the beautiful Spiegeltent, Kate Miller-Heidke captured the crowd from the moment she hit the stage and held them right through until the very end.
The ever-delightful Miller-Heidke, accompanied by collaborator and husband Keir Nuttall delivered a tight one-hour set, executed with expert precision. Banter with the crowd was brief yet charming, with a focus placed on ensuring the audience were able to experience as many songs as possible within the limited performance time. Utilising her phenomenal vocal range, Kate delivered a mix of old and new tracks including the emotionally engaging ‘Caught In The Crowd’, as well as a beautiful song which she wrote with Tina Arena last year detailing the turmoil of supporting a friend in an abusive relationship, moving a number of audience members to tears.
Not one to dwell on a moment of sadness, Kate regularly lifted the mood by adding tunes filled with biting humour and charming wit. With a voice to make angels sing, the occasional ‘bad word’ comes as a hilarious shock, but her gentle nature allows obscenities to fall from her mouth like drops of sunlight.
With a background in classical vocal techniques, while it almost felt like she was showing off, she did it with such casual and bashful ease the crowd fell in love with her time and time again. Probably the only person in the world whose shrieking could be described as gorgeous and melodic, Kate Miller-Heidke truly enthralled the crowd.
Noise bleed from nearby venues within the bustling area created a minor distraction however the spellbound crowd barely seemed to notice as all eyes (and ears) were focussed on the stage.
Wrapping up the hour with what began as a stripped back version of her first single from back in 2007, ‘Words’, the song built into an astounding performance complete with complex layering and looping. A well-deserved standing ovation closed out a stellar hour of entertainment.
Adelaide’s Mad March brings people from ALL walks of life into our CBD. It’s a crazy montage of arty-farties/Clipsal car loving bogans/Adelaide Festival snobs and of course the occasional Festival Grinch! And we wouldn’t have it any other way… Which one are you?
If you had told me this time last week that I’d be dancing in broad daylight, stone cold sober to a Justin Bieber song in front of a crowd of people at Gluttony – I’d probably have asked what you’d been smoking. But it’s happened now and I can’t take it back – really, I can’t, there’s video evidence of it on the internet.
If you read my post last week, you might already know that I don’t exactly consider myself to be the best of dancers but I want to be…I really really want to Bey. So when I heard about the Bey dance classes I was keen to jump on board – though I didn’t know that I’d be shakin my booty in front of a crowd.
The class kicked off on a warm Saturday arvo in Gluttony but thank goodness for air con and fans because you can’t dance up a storm without working up a bit of a sweat! The wonderful founder of Bey Dance, Liz introduced us to our teacher, Rhys and broke the news that may have shattered some attendees – we wouldn’t actually be dancing to a Beyonce song (what, oh no!) but instead a Justin Bieber song. Thankfully the Biebs has come into his own recently – no more of this whiny ‘oh baby baby’ rubbish. No. ‘Sorry’ was one of the catchiest yet not completely shit songs of 2015 and I wasn’t sorry that we would be getting to dance along to that (though I am sorry for that sentence, it was shameful and the use of the word sorry as a mild pun was pathetic. Soz).
On one hand we were thrown into the deep end – getting straight into the moves but on the other hand, we were thrown really gently! The way that Rhys and Liz eased everyone into the choreography whilst also helping us feel like we were achieving something really quickly was impressive. I’ve tried my hand at a few dance classes over the years and I’m not lying when I say this was the most fun, most energetic and most satisfying!
Sure, my legs are still aching a bit today (though that may have more to do with the extra dancing that I did ALL Saturday night…) however it was totally worth it! The Bey dance class was all about being confident and positive – not necessarily about getting the moves 100% right. That being said, the moves were simple enough that it wasn’t too difficult at all – and even if you didn’t get them right, you would still look pretty damned fabulous!
So after an hour and a half, filled with plenty of laughter, we were gently ushered out into the centre of Gluttony to ‘flashmob’ the crowd outside. It was heaps and heaps of fun – while I can’t bring myself to watch the video of it, I feel like it doesn’t matter what we looked like because it was an absolute blast! Thanks Bey Dance!