Oh Make Me Over

If you’re like me, you’ve no doubt spent hours at Exclusive Books bemoaning the cost of imported fashion magazines and surreptitiously trying to read a copy while avoiding the beady eye of the sales clerk. There’s something uber fabulous about fashion magazines. The page after page of accessory content, the million ways to wear a little black dress, the glamourous yet totally impractical photo shoots with couture. It’s like happiness between pages. What we lack on our little corner of the world is good fashion magazines. Don’t get me wrong, we have fabulous magazines. But if I’m honest I’d prefer a little more Shoes For Every Occasion than Ten Ways To Please A Man. Especially since I have the Sex &The City box set. I got that area covered.

So when I found out department store Edgars Club magazine had a little makeover, I was intrigued and giddy. And jumped up and down like it was Christmas. Who better to produce a fashion mag than a store chock-a-block of fashion items.


The new magazine is colourful, glossy and filled with fashion content like news from the runway, trends, what’s in store, advice and insight from local designers. And to kick it off, they’ve shot this to-die-for Thula Sindi dress for their new front cover. Haute! Haute! Haute! At the helm of the magazine is one of the foremost fashion bloggers in SA and also the group editor, Justine Stafford, who with a team of superstars revamped the magazine from something my mother reads to something I’ll now be stealing from my mother’s house.

Go and check it out. Here's a sneak peak at their November issue.



Ex-Oh! Ex-Oh!

Dear Future Boyfriend, Part Seven

Dear Future Boyfriend part Seven

Wherever you are, you need to come out and make a move.

And that’s not because I’m getting sick of the single life. I actually dread the day I’ll have to stop spending my Friday nights with my Will & Grace boxset wearing nothing but my old college top and my fat pants. Or when I have to start sharing my life, feelings and even worse my food with a boy. It’s not because I’m ready for you and I to be together.



It’s because I want you to mark your ground.

Despite what I think about my thighs and that no one will love me with my frizzy hair, there turns out to a number of demographics that find me appealing. As I found out over this past weekend. As I parked in town to do some work stuff, I car guard told me I make all the men in Cape Town cry because of broken hearts. Later when I arrived home, a truck driver told me to be careful with my booty. When I was out, a homosexual told me I looked “Fierce” and snapped his fingers. But that happens all the time, I have my gays trained.

And then this morning, I was at the shops. Just doing my bidness when not one, but two gentlemen of an older nature looked me up and down and either made a suggestive gesture or comment. One was even with his wife. Yes it was unbelievably creepy and I should have said something. But a girl’s still got to eat.

So while you’re out saving humanity (tip: I’d really like you to be a human rights lawyer but I can also handle activist as long as we’re not poor) please consider that the future love of your life is being hit on by car guards, the gays and geriatrics.

Ex-Oh! Ex-Oh!