JANUARY 2010 - Tweet Talk

BOND-EYE CANDY - by Alex O'Halloran

After a huge amount of negative feedback from the female customers I spoke to in my store, I consider my next statement to be "gutsy!"

Maybe I have different taste from other females, or maybe I have questionable taste or maybe some of those women I asked are just too scared to fess up or maybe I'm just comfortable in my own skin.

Here goes..........my confession is simple..............."I love (SOME) men in Speedos!".

Now don't get me wrong. Naturally a girl has her standards. When I say I love Speedos, I'm not talking about the short balding bloke who shows off his package in the hope that we won't notice his man boobs or his buddha belly. And if you can tell the size, shape and level of pudenda hairiness - he's definitely wearing the wrong swim suit!

No banana in the hammock is going to make a woman come running.That type of man should definitely obey the, "never leave the towel rule".

And then of course, there's the slang names; Meat hangers,lolly bag, ding-a-ling-sling, scrote tote and the good old budgie smugglers.

Critics may say, that the 'Speedo' is by far the most embarrassing piece of clothing a man could wear, and an unfit man in Speedos is like a bad car wreck - you can't help but stare, and if you're over the age of 3 you shouldn't be tempted to go the Speedo. I disagree because to me.......a man in socks and summer sandals is, well - WRONG!

Yes...........I appreciate that some women would prefer to be curious and fantasize rather than have it all laid right out in front of them, and that a man in boardies leaves you wondering, but in my mind the 'SPEEDO' looks sexy on a man in great shape! The speedo represents the iconic Bondi Aussie Lifesaver. Gods of the beach, as they proudly parade our shores with a hint of zinc, tanned and toned with their tight togs and a bum cheek peeking out that shouts, "WELCOME TO AUSTRALIA!".

Even on a visit back in 1988, when Princess Diana met the Sydney Lifesavers, she flirtatiously said, "I've been waiting for this all day".

So come on all you blokes out there..........don't hide behind those boardies forever..........lose that tan line and saggy sand chafe. If women of every shape and size can bare it all, so should you!

Have a little faith in Speedos...................and show off that man hammock...............but remember, I said Speedos, not the 'Borat Mankini'!

JANUARY 2010 Tweet Talk

January 2010 Tweet Talk is only hours away! Here's wishing you all a very safe & happy New Year!

Jane Birkin.......My style icon

THANK YOU GIRLS!

A big warm thank you to all my readers who pop into my store at Moss Industry florist or via email - to tell me how much they're enjoying my monthly tweet talk column!

I hope to always keep it light and amusing!!!

Here's blogging you all a very MERRY XMAS and a safe and happy 2010!

Warm wishes

Ali.O

DECEMBER - tweet talk

'TROUBLE with PMT' - by alex o'halloran

What is PMT?

Does PMT turn you into the green eyed monster each month? Is it just a cop out for women to be horrible to the poor victims who are game enough to cross our paths? You hate the world and you haven't even said,"hello"!

At school my girlfriends sat around talking about it all the time boring me senseless. To me it was something that I just couldn't identify with because PMT didn't exist in my world. I used to believe that it was nothing more than a girl's excuse for a whinge, but now I know that it wasn't just a figment of their imagination.

My sister Danielle turned to me the other day and said,"Hey you weren't a bitch this month".And she was right! Don't you love how only a sister could say that!

Yes...............I admit, I experience the odd day or two each month where the build up to "that time" has it's repercussions.The freak show moves into my body without an official invite and like a bad case of tourettes syndrome,unpredictable anythings can come spilling out of my mouth. I become clumsy, flustered and irritated by ABSOLUTELY everything and EVERYTHING I put on feels tight. Miraculously my ass appears to have grown over night! 'Hello Serena Williams - the bubble butt' You know you're being an absolute troll to everyone around you - but don't they all know I have PMT!

My family see the signs straight away.I guess because they know me so well. It's then that the "tutting" sound starts.Weird I know, but it's something I have done for as long as I can remember. It's a stupid noise I make with my mouth that to those who know me shouts,"BEWARE - my tolerance is zero and I'm pissed off".The thing is, I know I'm doing it, but I can't stop! That's when I know it's time to retreat somewhere quiet with a pile of mags and a 'do not disturb sign'...................and then there's the cravings. Like a bear set free at a lonely picnic site, the pig out begins. A large packet of twisties is always a winner with me, so my hardest decision is whether to go savoury or sweet. Sound familiar?

Now I know I may sound a little neurotic, but after catching up with a friend for a coffee recently I now feel so much better. I asked her if she suffers from the monthly monster and she looked at me and simply said, "Hell no, I don't get PMT, I'm just a bitch all the time!"

We might hate PMT and all the tit bits that go with it - but no matter how much you're hating the world that day or how 'crapola' you feel - you know your girlfriends will just get it!

NOVEMBER - Tweet Talk

Shaping up Noosa Style.........by alex o'halloran

As a self confessed bikini junkie in my teenage years, nothing mattered more to me than the "brand" - Yes........I truly loved my "EXPOSEES" -  white and pink polka dots to be exact! I just had to have them - no matter how ridiculous the price tag.
I lived for Summer and literally lived at our local beach in Mt.Eliza where I grew up. My girlfriends and I spent every spare moment of our holidays and the odd wagged school day 'suckin' up the rays.

As I plonked my butt down on the sand in Noosa last week, I looked down at my mismatching bikini with it's floral top and completely wrong bottoms and thought to myself.............how things had changed!
These days, "the bikini" just doesn't rate in my world or on my list in the fashion stakes.Why spend a fortune on some teeny bit of fabric that I simply loathe myself in? Hell........... a great handbag is a much better investment and looks great with anything. People stop you and say, "Great bag".  I can't remember the last time someone said that when I was all "bikinied" up sand side!

Looking around at the "all too tanned fabulousness" on the main beach, I regretfully noticed a group of 16yr old beauties sitting far too close.Thin as whippets, not a panel beaten leg in sight and clearly they were all gorgeous, body confident too.The only thing weighing these girls down was the ipod they carried. Admiring and hating them all at the same time.......I decided move myself on to the secluded family beach at Little Cove. Not a teen in sight.

Feeling 40 something, white and flabby, the next morning I decided to take up my husband's offer of joining him on his morning run through Noosa's National Park. As I laced up, stretched and thought of the those dimple free girls, I was ready to whip his ass and tragically abort my morning of magazines and coffee!

Listening to his words of encouragement it went a little like this, "Hey Ali, we'll take it slow and run until the wheelchair access path stops."Easy", I said.
Ready to die,still running and smiling too, I noticed that we'd jogged well past the path.
Casually I mentioned.............."Obviously wheelchairs in QLD are fitted with 4Wheel drive tyres??" The path stopped miles back!?" "Just a bit further" he said with a wink. 
5.2km later and hating him, we ran back through the enterance gates to the National Park. Never having run that far in my life, I stood there out of breath and quietly happy with myself.
On waking the next day, as I crawled down our apartment stairs, it was clear that I was the one that needed a wheelchair. Seriously........I was literally cripple for 3 days.

The next morning as I dragged myself down our apartment stairs, I wondered what on earth had happened to my poor body. I decided that I had been viciously attacked in my sleep, but then the 5.2km run flashed in my head and I asked myself, "What part of running feels good?". "It doesn't!!"

As I sat there aching, crippled and feeling very sorry for myself, I drank my coffee and read my wonderful magazines that in "my world"shouted normal!

Smiling to myself, I thought...........'Hey, what's a few dimples between friends.......but then again'......................

Beach Bikini - NOOSA STYLE........

Are you ready to strip down to your bikini?? Summer is just around the corner girls!!

Unfortunately for me, it came a little early. Just back from holidaying in Noosa for a week, no fake tan in a can, nor a pretty flowing top could prepare a 40 something woman for the tragic experience of sharing that sand space with a group of  buffed 16 year old girls...........  

Read about it in my NOVEMBER tweet  talk -

"Shaping up - Noosa Style! "

Found in our Moss Industry window or at The Pod Cafe, BARWON HEADS.

Tweet Talk NOVEMBER.

OCTOBER 'tweet talk'

'MAN UP' by alex o'halloran

When I heard that the cool grunge man - Tex Perkins was performing a 'Johnny Cash' show called, 'The Man in Black' I couldn't resist booking 2 tickets for my husband and I. Like that charismatic and broody thing Michael Hutchence had - Tex has it too.

Even a friend's husband, who is by no means gay, said he clearly wants to "do Tex" just because he is so cool.....Like women saying they want to "do Angelina Jolie" because she's so beautiful - and not because they are gay!


The last time I saw Tex Perkins play was at the Barwon Heads pub jammed into the main dining area on a hot summer's night when The Cruel Sea was a band that people remembered. For those of you reading this who have no idea who Tex is, we are definitely decades apart.....


After a fabulous show we headed off for a bite to eat, nestled in one of Melbourne's bustling lane ways.... a bar called 'Biscotti' where rows of tables sat squashed as they competed with their neighbouring restaurants.There was definitely no room for private chit chat as the person eating beside you was literally up your nose. I have to admit I've never got off on that whole share dining thing....
As I soaked up the atmosphere and eye candy of pedestrian fashions walking past with over sized killer heels and women's arms and legs dipped in tattoo art, I couldn't help noticing the frantic waiters running around like rats up a drain pipe. Not because they were at all memorable - but because clearly, there was zero male genes going on! Not a bloke to be seen. I appreciate that there's a real look for young men these days in the fashion stakes, but c'mon.......man up I say!
Don't get me wrong......I love my gay male friends.......the ones that bring a bit of "Priscilla Queen of the Desert" into my life......glitter and all, but as I turned to my husband I sized up the male waiters with my critical eye, and said "check out the wait staff.......one looks like a stand in elf for Santa and the other one was a mere 50kgs on the scales. No girl wants a guy to be skinnier than her in jeans.......it's just not right!"
I know they come in all shapes and sizes, but it just doesn't sit with me that the man or should I say the overly vain guy spends more time in front of the mirror than I do.


As I looked over at my husband I realized how lucky I am............lucky that I'm not an 18 or 20 something, having to choose from a population of men that have become a feminine something?? In front of me sat my man Johnny, my husband......... with his slightly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes and the shoulders that I fell in love with.......the ones that seem to go on forever. Kind and sensitive too........yes to ME, it's what a man is supposed to be.

I guess whether our man is going to "Man Up" or "Man Down", it's whatever rocks your boat................

SEPTEMBER 'tweet talk' by alex o'halloran

IS IT A 'Y GENERATION' THING?'

I always swore that I would never compare myself to the younger generation because deep down I still think I fit that slot, but clearly I don't......so as I get older I can't help analyzing "Y gen" as I see more and more teens slothing around.

At first I came to the conclusion that there was something strange running through our water supply on the coast to cause them to move around at such a slow pace. I kept calling them "coastal kids", but after much reflection, I've realized that it's simply a 'Y Gen' thing. It doesn't matter where you are - you'll see the same characteristics everywhere.

As they drag themselves around from point A to B, it's as though they're carrying invisible buckets of heavy water on each shoulder with an expression of doom and gloom. They look like the poor villagers I saw many years ago in the Middle East lugging their crops on their heads - only they were real and they would have been within their rights to complain.

Ask a 'Y Gen' how they are and most times you'll just get a grunt or a shrug of the shoulders but if you're really lucky they'll simply answer, "I'm tired!".........Tired of what I ask?...........Tired of school, tired of texting, tired of eating, tired of talking or just tired of being tired?

Yes......all these things take up too much energy. It's like they've been hit with a stun gun or given a dose of Valium. The only interaction they can manage is one with their ipod and earplugs and a mobile phone glued to their hand.

This weird phenomenon has even made its way into the fashion stakes.Tiredness has affected the way jeans sit on a young guy's hips causing them to fall to a bizarre level below the butt crack. Even their hair lacks the energy to stand up, as it falls down covering their face, with one eye peeking out.

For young girls their uniform of glued ugg boots causes an irritating sound effect as they scuff slowly past. There's no air between their feet and the pavement. Forget "Air Jordan" of the 90's now it's "Ugg Scuff" of the new millennium.

Recently, when catching a late morning train at Southern Cross station I couldn't help noticing the girl next to me sitting slouched, eyes half open, hair clearly not brushed and wearing her pj bottoms!! Was she too tired to even get dressed or perhaps she was dressed and had been "sleeping rough?"

I asked my husband's daughter recently "What's up with you guys, you Y Gens?? The response came back" " Ali.... it's just how it is".

I guess I'm no longer the younger gen.....but can I still say I'm on the cusp???

AUGUST - 'tweet talk'

YOUTH JUICE OR BAD SKIN?

by alex o'halloran

Who said pimples stopped after your teens?

As I stood there in a day dream watching the young check out boy expertly scan my shopping, I couldn't help noticing the blemishes that had invaded his poor face.That awkward age of puberty when your body's doing weird and wonderful things and at the same time you're out there desperately trying to look cool.The last thing you want is Mr and Mrs Zit and the whole family hanging out on your face.After my feelings of sympathy disappeared I started to think about and question the whole 'zit' thing...

I had just returned from a brief break with my husband John in sunny Noosa, where on my return I was to begin work charged and refreshed. A very small dose of vitamin D to wake up the skin and I was ready to approach the cold days of our Victorian winter with a whole new attitude.

Instead, as I looked in the mirror that morning before work, I noticed a family of migrant zits had decided to have their next meet on my face! Was it the brief change in climate at Noosa or just that I had plain old zits?

Now in my 40's I truly imagined that I would be '40 and fabulous'. Like most women I'm ashamed to say that yes...I believe everything that the magazines say.There was nothing fabulous looking back in my reflection - more like 40 and freaking awful.

Did they still sell Clearasil or should I now be asking for something a bit more sophisticated like Ella Bache blemish gel for mature women? I know this may sound vain, but in our 40's god dam it, we're allowed!

I then got to thinking about Michael Jackson and how he wore the mask and all and yes...I really did love him in the 80's.Bring it on Billy Jean! Maybe he wasn't so strange after all.Maybe he was just having a bad skin decade.

I know this may sound bizarre but I've always thought there was a big gap in the market for a fashionable mask for those bad zit days. A Fendi or old vintage print could look good? And for teenagers they could go for something different, whatever it is, as they drag themselves along the street with their hoody, ipod, iphone and new mask!

As I stopped myself from obsessing and dragged myself away from the mirror, I decided to throw it out into the kitchen over coffee time. I turned to my husband and said, "check out my face! check out my pimples - I'm a mess! What's going on? They should have moved on by now!"

With that he turned to me and smiled saying, "Ali... it's just youth juice.You look fine.Look at the bright side, when you no longer have it, you'll want it back"

Was he right?

With that I bounced into my new day feeling so much better as I walked down the street accepting my new crop of zits caused by that youth juice still flowing through my body.