As a fashion and lifestyle blogger I get invited to openings and events quite regularly. 90% of these events are in Sydney and as I’m allergic to both sunshine and fake tan, I’m unable to travel north with any regularity. All the healthy people upset me too much. However, according to my wee little statistics counter, most of my Australian readers live in Sydney, which I find unsettling. How you cope with my pasty personae, constant coffee consumption and macabre clothing palette is beyond me. Despite my aversion to your sunny city, far be it for me to deny you local fashion related information, so on that note I’d like to introduce you to the Sydney Smaggle Correspondant, Bek Warnock.
Full disclosure here: I’m a little (read: a lot) snobbish about surf brands. I find them too obvious. Garish. Literal. I prefer a label that can show me what it’s about through design and fabric and unique lines, not by literally writing its name all over my clothes in colours that look like they belong in a box of crayons. Also, I find a lot of products and garments that fall under the umbrella of ‘surf’ are designed in such a way that encourage me to do things I don’t want to do. Like wear a bikini. Or shorts. Or brave sharks and seaweed and getting sand in my bits while wearing something functional and unflattering.
No, thank you very much.
Looking back, there is one particular traumatic event in my past that may have led me to my current prejudice about typical surf wear brands. When I was in year four a girl called Sarah Mulvaney pounced like a deranged she-ninja from the primary school monkey bars onto my back to see if I could hold her.
I could not.
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