The Sylvia Chan Surfin' Safari

A curious evening spent in a salon in Paddington, a fish and chip shop and the convenience stores and pubs of Surry Hills.

Lent moral support to LT in the face of the whirlwind that is Sylvia Chan, bridal designer, community activist, and all round kooky extraordinaire. Noonie said she has big feet for her size but I didn't notice. LT looked lovely in what was essentially a calico bag pinned in a few choice spots so I figure the real thing's bound to be a knockout.

Over a barramundi burger at Johnnies we explore the politics of the new book club boy deriding the experience of his first meeting. Thinking of changing the book club manifesto to prevent criticism. Not of the books. Just of book club itself. Is that wrong?

Afterwards, the inaugural gig for Ben Thatcher and The Hussies at the Hopetoun. My favourite lyrics:

We're going on a surfin safari and we're gonna take off your pants,
We're going on a surfin safari
We're gonna think about our actions because we've treated you bad
(inexplicably) Where is the love?

It's a long way from the weekend's eloquent post teenage pain but I guess that's what you get when you grow up in Caprera Road, Northmead rather than Council Estate, London. They did seem like nice boys, though, who enjoy drinking beer, wearing suits ironically, involving their girlfriends (so long as they can sing), and (as Noonie said) generally channeling Beck. And the lead singer is kind of handsome with one of those smokes-too-much voices. The drummer's handsome too and does great falsetto, but I hear he's engaged.