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preservationman Aug 2018
Jeff Beckham who stands by what he has accomplished and established. Some of you probably don’t know who Jeff Beckham is and how Bodybuilding fits in. Well let me fill you in. Mr. Beckham is a young man that brought promise and dignity to bodybuilding in what he stands for. Mr. Beckham chose Bodybuilding as an outlet to overcome what he felt was missing his life. He got involved into Bodybuilding in making a difference in his life and followed the same route he wanted for others and that was Bodybuilding and general exercising participation. It was the Bodybuilding door that opened and Jeff Beckham being part of the new frontier and a wave of accomplishments after another with several Bodybuilding titles under his belt. Yet, Mr. Jeff Beckham proved to himself and the world that he was destined to be successful, and Bodybuilding was going to be the centerpiece in positive action. Positive in believing in what Mr. Beckham would be his difference in encouraging others to follow in his footsteps.

He is also a Father being totally devoted to his Daughter, Miya, and takes part in her life when he is not in a busy schedule of Seminar training and Bodybuilding competition preparation. But no matter what, Mr. Beckham is his number importance in being a parent. However, Mr. Jeff Beckham offers training principles for anyone who wants to enhance in improving their body composition. He wants others to see results with how one can improve them. The key is tone and being lean. Now for Mr. Jeff Beckham’s posing routines, there is no secret. But if you ever need a Guest Poser, Mr. Jeff Beckham is your man. He offers Splits, Stretches and Dramatics that will uplift any bodybuilding competition and arouse the audience in wanting more. Mr. Beckham is devoted to Strict Discipline and Conditioning. So what does tomorrow hold for Jeff Beckham, I won’t say, but follow Jeff Beckham on Facebook and Judge for yourself. His Bodybuilding success could be what exercising you have been missing, and he will definitely help you achieve your proportionate goals.
preservationman Feb 2019
Bodybuilder being involved
Living life fully with very little problems to solve
It’s the Bodybuilding training intensity
Fitness and Competitions a reality
Jeff Beckham’s muscles do more than just bounce
Pure mass at every ounce
Amazing Muscle Sponsor picking the right choice
Jeff Beckham your man being the voice
Amazing Muscle with emphasis on Nutrition
Jeff Beckham being the true champion in every accord
It all happened with the guidance of the Lord
Mr. Beckham always a Fan’s friend
There is never a wonder of when
Every moment when Mr. Beckham can
But what makes Jeff Beckham unique, he constructs posing  routine’s having ongoing flow
Jeff Beckham just let’s his muscles go
The fans all know
But Jeff Beckham provides an accelerating show
One Flex at a time striking a pose
Mr. Beckham showing his talent being suppose
Amazing Muscle got the right champion to represent
It’s Jeff Beckham and let me present
But as a Champion, he will go far
However, it won’t be always his car
Jeff Beckham, I hope you are taking notes
What I said is no joke
You have the blessings along with my vote
So prepare for 2019
Just remember to come in lean
Jeff Beckham, you are the new enterprise
You are on your way to stardom in rise
You have definitely reached your new frontier
Star Log, Jeff Beckham, just continue to preserver.
preservationman Sep 2015
The name being a strategy to boost
Yet there are some people who are uninterested to most
The beckham’s present strength, structure and confidence being sure
This is their explore
I hear applause from the floor
Muscle is the armor in galore
Yet the beckham’s have defined scientific methods in knowledge from before
Their craftsmanship is nothing to ignore
One beckham controls the bodybuilding stage
It’s what poses are presented and the audience caught in amaze
The second beckham is the weights in flight of gymnastics in how the body can revolve in flexibility
But the focus is on opportunity
The touchdown being the last beckham
A football held high
The winning game being the why
Now you see what makes the mighty beckham
Their voices rang out loud
It is all because they are proud
Not what is allowed
The confidence they in thou
The beckham’s are definitely ******* and not for the weak
All you have to do is just observe and take a peek.
Let me tell you what society will tell you:
Increases your chances of getting a job,
Provides you an opportunity to be successful,
Be a lot less stressful,
Education is the key.

Now let me tell you something your parents will tell you:
Make me proud,
Increases your chances of getting a job,
Provides you an opportunity to be successful,
Your life will be a lot less stressful,
Education is the key.

Now let's look at the statistics,
Steve Jobs - net worth seven billion R.I.P,
Richard Branson - net worth four point two billion,
Oprah Winfrey - two point seven billion,
Mark Zuckerberg, Henry Ford, Steven Spielberg, Bill Gates
Now here comes the Coup de grâce,
Looking at these individuals, what's your conclusion?
Neither of them in being successful,
Ever graduated from a higher learning institution.

Now some of you may be like,
Money is only the medium by which we measure worldly success,
And some of you even have the nerve to say
"I don't do it for the money."
So what you studying for?
To work for a charity?
Need more clarity?

Let's look at the statistics:
Jesus,
Muhammed,
Socrates,
Malcolm X,
Mother Teresa,
Spielberg,
Shakespeare,
Beethoven,
Jesse Owens,
Muhammad Ali,
Sean Carter,
Michael Jeffrey Jordan,
Michael Joseph Jackson.
Were either of these people unsuccessful... or... uneducated?

All I'm saying is that,
If there was a family tree hard work and education would be related,
But school would probably be a distant cousin,
Because if education is the key,
School is the lock,
Because it rarely ever develops your mind to the point where it can perceive red as green and continue to go when someone else said stop.
Because as long as you follow the rules and pass exams your cool,
But are you aware that examiners have a checklist,
And if your answer is something outside the box then the automatic response is a cross,
And then they claim that school expands your horizons and your visions,
Well tell that to Malcolm X who dropped out of school and is world renowned for what he learn in a prison.

Proverbs 17:16
It does a fool no good to spend money on an education,
Why?
Because he has no common sense.
George Bush. Need I say more?
Education is about inspiring one's mind,
Not just filling their head,
And take this from me because I'm an 'Educated' man myself,
Who only came to this realization after countless nights in the library,
With a can of red bull keeping me awake till morning,
Another can in the morning,
Falling asleep between piles of books that probably equates to the same amount I spent on my rent,
Memorize equations, facts and dates,
Write down to the letter,
Half of which I would never remember,
And half of which I would forget straight after the exam,
Before the start of the next semester,
Asking anyone if they had notes for the last lecture.
I often found myself running to class,
Just so I could find a spot on which I could rest my head and just sleep without making a scene,
Ironic because that's the only time I ever spent in university chasing my dreams.
And then after nights with a dead-mind,
I'd den find myself in a queue of half-awake students, zombies,
Waiting to hand in an assignment,
Maybe that's why they call it a deadline.
And then after three years of mental suppression,
And frustration,
My "Proud Mother" didn't even turn up to my graduation.

Now, I'm not saying that school is evil and there's nothing to gain,
All I'm saying is: understand your morals and re-assess your aims,
If you want a job working for someone else then help yourself,
But then that would be a contradiction because you wouldn't really be helping yourself,
You'd be helping somebody else,
There's a saying that is: if you don't build your dreams, someone else will hire you to help build theirs.

Redefine how you view education,
Understand it's true meaning,
Education is not just about regurgitating facts from a book,
Or someone else's opinion on a subject to pass an exam,
Look at it.
Picasso was educated at creating art,
Shakespeare was educated in the art of all that was written,
Colonel Harland Sanders was educated in the art of creating Ken Tucky Fried Chicken.

I once saw David Beckham take a free kick,
I watched as the side of his Adidas-sponsored boot hit the patent leather of the ball at an angle,
Which caused it to travel towards the skies as though it was destined for the heavens,
And then as it reached the peek of it's momentum,
As though it changed it's mind,
It switched directions.
I watched as the goalkeeper froze,
As though reciting to himself the laws of physics,
And as though his brain was negotiating with his eyes,
That was indeed witnessing the spectacle that was the leather swan that was swooping towards it,
And then reacted,
Though only a fraction of a millisecond too late,
And before the net of the goal,
Embraced the Fifa-Sponsored ball as though it was the prodigal son returning home,
And the country, that I live in, Erupted into cheers,
I looked at the play and thought,
****,
Looking at David Beckham,
There's more than one way in this world to be,

An educated man.

Peace.
judy smith Nov 2015
Chelsy Davy looked slinky in a **** satin dress as she joined a host of celebrities at the VIP premier of Burberry's new Christmas advert tonight.

The 30-year-old braved the November cold with a thigh-high-split dress with a plunging neckline, and halterneck straps, that showed off her toned arms and shoulders.

Prince Harry's old flame joined some of the biggest and best British names including Naomi Campbell, Rosie Huntington-Whitely and Romeo Beckham at the fashion house's flagship store in Regent Street.

Although Chelsey doesn't star in the Burberry ad campaign like many of the other guests, she used the opportunity to show off her style credentials in a silky black dress which showed off her figure.

Accessorising with a gold necklace, rings and charm bracelets, and a chain-mail edged envelope clutch, she did bring a leather jacket, but carried it with her bag despite the winter weather.

Chelsey had stiff competition in the **** stakes though, with Rosie Huntington-Whiteley dazzling in a provocative ensemble.

The model, who does star in Burberry's festive film, showed off her impressive figure in a skimpy satin body, which she teamed with a semi-sheer skirt and a pair of thigh-high suede boots.

Rosie teased her hair into loose waves and sported simple make up, so it didn't detract from her captivating outfit.

Her campaign co-star Naomi Campbell opted for an all-pink outfit - arriving in a rose suede jacket showing off a slither of her berry dress underneath.

And of course the model of the moment Romeo Beckham was on hand to celebrate his appearance in the film too.

The 13-year-old looked incredibly dapper in a navy suit with a matching skirt and tie as well as a polka dot Burberry printed scarf.

Downton Abbey's Michelle Dockery was one of the first of the cast to arrive and made her entrance wearing Burberry of course.

The 33-year-old actress was sporting a chic plum coat, simple black jeans and a pale pink jumper for the evening.

The campaign which was shot by Mario Testino and celebrates the 15th anniversary of Billy Elliot with an all British cast and begins with original footage from the 2000 film, as well as the original soundtrack - ‘Cosmic Dancer’ by T Rex - by permission of Working Title.

World-renowned photographer, Mario, also shot a separate stills campaign featuring Romeo, Naomi, Rosie, and James that will run across print and digital titles.

Speaking about the campaign, Christopher Bailey said: 'Billy Elliot is an incredible film full of so much joy and energy, so it was a real thrill and a great honour to be able to celebrate its 15 year anniversary through our Festive campaign.

'It was also a huge privilege to work with such amazing and iconic British talent – the cast are quite simply some of the biggest names in film, music and fashion and it was so much fun working with them all to make this special film.'

Burberry will no doubt be hoping for a boost thanks to Romeo Beckham.

At the start of the year, it was reported that thanks to his last Burberry Christmas advert, sales of the brand's classic £1,500 trench coats shot up a substantial 10 per cent.

The fashion label credited the then 12-year-old son of David and Victoria Beckham for its rise in sales in the US, Europe and the Middle East after he starred in their Christmas advert last year.

The advert, which was first released in November, was the first ever Christmas campaign for Burberry and starred Romeo alongside 50 dancers all clad in the beige trench coats.

Such was his popularity in the film - called From London With Love - that it was watched nine million times after being released.

The original production of Billy Elliot established a legacy of charitable support for the local community of Easington, County Durham where the film is set.

Inspired by this, Burberry is making a donation of £500,000 to be split between two charities, Place2Be and the County Durham Community Foundation, that have projects focusing on reducing barriers to education, training and employment in the local area. This donation is made in recognition of each artists' participation in the campaign.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/cheap-formal-dresses
judy smith Apr 2016
Who says you can't arm twist yourself into doing practically anything? Victoria Beckham — stylish mum, fashion empire czarina and social diva — took that notion a **** few notches higher as she posted a picture of herself on a sofa on a photo sharing site, leg extended high above her head at 90 degrees. The picture went viral immediately with a huge buzz around her impressive flexibility. She captioned the photo, 'It's amazing what you can do in culottes...those ballet classes are paying off!' (sic) It's not the first time she has showed off her moves. Last year in Singapore too, she kicked her stiletto-clad feet into a high pose as she relaxed on a sofa.

These celebs are advocating it, too...

Posh Spice aka Victoria isn't the only one. British actress Kelly Brook showed of her flexi *** on her sitcom show. Actresses like Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Aniston have also taken up exercise regimens that stretch their bodies to the limit. Angelina Jolie's workouts are said to include the stability ball leg, squats and kickboxing, known build flexibility and balance. Jessica Biel is a firm follower of her five days a week cardio with strength training and pilates classes that have been credited with getting her such a lean ***. And Megan Fox ensures she is flexible, too.

Advantages of being stretchy

Being flexible and stretching out is not the realm of just gymnasts, athletes or swimmers. Anyone can and should be like that, for it's not just before starting a workout that one faces tight hamstrings and a sore back and neck. These are issues that plague those with sedentary jobs as well. Thus, flexibility can help in gym training and dealing with the stressors of everyday life. It also helps the body to heal. Increased flexibility also leads to improved posture. Once the earlier tightness goes away you start to sit right and walk better, too.

How Much?Stretching muscles twice a week is enough to build overall flexibility.

For anyone

A common myth is that being flexible will only work with younger people. It is actually for anyone of any age

Exercises to help you get there

Chest dumbbells: Lie flat on a bench, holding dumbbells in either hand. Now lift the dumbbells overhead together and slowly bring them back. This stretches the pectorals.

Abs stretch: Sit on the ground with the ankles facing each other and the knees flexed. Now put pressure on the knees and press them to make them touch the ground. Hold this for 20 seconds and repeat.

Shoulders delt: Hold the elbow of one arm with the other hand and pull the elbow across the chest. Hold and repeat for the other hand.

Curling cat: Kneel down on all fours and curl the back upwards in the same position. Hold this and start again. This increases flexibility of the back.

Hamstring stretch: Place your leg on any raised area in front you, like a stool or chair. Now, extend it straight without bending the knees and bend the torso to touch the toes. Hold for 15 seconds and repeat.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-melbourne
Paul Butters Jan 2015
Remember David Beckham
The footballing great from Peckham.
He would always bend it
So no-one could defend it.

Paul Butters
Shame Beckham didn't play for Leeds.
judy smith Mar 2016
Continuing her ******* of the fashion industry, Victoria Beckham proudly opened her second boutique in Hong Kong this week. The designer was greeted by crowds of fans as she posed happily for pictures and celebrated her latest achievement.

Victoria, 41, kept her social media followers in the loop with a stream of behind-the-scenes pictures and, in her style, appeared to poke a bit of fun at herself. Standing next to a mannequin dressed in one of her designs, she wrote: "I'm wearing VVB… what are you wearing?"

The mother-of-four also uploaded a clip of her with a hologram fish, and jokingly asked fans to help name her new friend. But it wasn't all fun for former Spice Girl Victoria; her social uploads revealed a very late night ahead of the store opening as she prepared to face her Chinese customers and press.

As usual Victoria looked effortlessly chic for the launch, dressed head-to-toe in black. The businesswomen opted for a fitted turtleneck teamed with a calf-length skirt and black heels. Her trademark oversized sunglasses completed the look, and she had her long brown hair tied back into a ponytail.

Discussing the launch with the South China Morning Post, Victoria said: "I know Asian women really understand luxury, good quality and appreciate when garments are made well – and my clothes are.

"Every time I've visited over the past few years, I've taken time to meet with my clients [here], to really get a sense of what excites them and what they want."

Three years ago Victoria, who shares children Brooklyn, 17, Romeo, 13, Cruz, 11, and four-year-old Harper with husband David, opened her flagship store on London's Dover Street, and its Hong Kong sister store follows the same architectural design.

Victoria once again stressed her involvement in all areas of her fashion empire, explaining: "It's important to me that I'm part of the decision making in all areas, whether that's deciding what the changing rooms look like, to what fragrance we use in store, to what the receipts look like. I enjoy all of that, and I'm a perfectionist. I believe it's all in the details."

She added: "I am feeling very excited. The process wasn't easy… opening a store is a huge project. Together with my team, I've worked really hard to get to this point."See more at:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane
judy smith Mar 2016
It was hardly a JFK moment but if, like me, you remember what you were doing when you first heard a Spice Girls track, it may be hard to believe two decades have elapsed since the girl group released their debut single, Wannabe, in the dying days of John Major’spremiership. Together with Oasis, Blur and Blair they heralded a new dawn for Britain - selling millions of records while they were at it - before embarking on what turned out to be a lengthy hiatus just four years later. There was a brief reunion in 2007-8 but the question now is: how, if at all, will they mark their 20th anniversary this summer?

Sitting opposite me in a London hotel bar in Leicester Square, just across from where she co-hosts the Breakfast show on Heart FM withJamie Theakston, Emma Bunton - the one formerly known as “Baby Spice” - makes no secret of her hope that the “girls” (now all in their forties) will get their act together.

“We adore each other. There’s so much we’ve been through. I would love to do something,” she says. “I think we’d all quite like to do something, but it really is figuring it out. We all have such different lives. Mel B [Melanie Brown, formerly Scary Spice] lives in America. We’ve all got different managers.” Not to mention the fact they are all mothers now and their busy schedules include commitments such as school plays, which makes finding time for a reunion even harder.

It’s natural to wonder, too, if any jealousy simmers beneath the surface. Victoria Beckham’s star has risen exponentially since the group broke up, with her marriage to former footballer David, their children and her fashion line keeping the profile of the erstwhile Posh Spice higher than those of any of her former bandmates. Bunton insists she’s delighted for her though.

“When a friend does that well it’s incredible. She’s just hilarious and I know exactly what she’s thinking just by looking at her,” she says. “I see pictures and I go, ‘I know what she’s thinking about!’ I’m very lucky because I know the fun, sarcastic, brilliant other side to her as well.” The fact that Beckham invited Bunton to choose a dress for her 40th birthday in January would appear to support the picture she paints of their friendship.

When “Baby” joined the band in 1994 she was almost young enough to be in a school play herself. Now she has two babies of her own - Beau, aged eight, and four-year-old Tate - with her fiance, the singer Jade Jones, to whom she has been engaged since 2011. Although she could pass for 30, her woollen shawl, floral Kooples shirt and the glasses that frame her face give her the look of an elder stateswoman of pop.

“Wouldn’t that be amazing?” she agrees when I suggest a one-off gig at Wembley Stadium. “Fingers crossed. That’s something we’d really love to do.” While we talk, a phone rings in her bag. It’s Geri Halliwell, formerly known as Ginger Spice. Bunton ignores it. “I’ll speak to her after and tell her you suggested it,” she says of the concert idea.

Meanwhile there is her new early evening live TV show to focus on. In BBC Two’s Too Much TV, she pairs up with Rufus Hound, Sara *** or Aled Jones, reviewing and previewing what’s on the box. Her years of experience as a radio host have come in handy here, but the programme itself has reportedly suffered some disappointing audience figures.

Still, Bunton is pleased to be forming a female double act with ***. The phrase “Girl Power” - which she defines as “supporting one another in everything you do” - was famously central to the Spice Girls’ brand and is something she continues to draw on. “For me, it started with seeing my mum going back to college at 40, starting karate at 40. She just kept growing and I’ve really fed off that,” she says. “I want to grow as much as she did and still is. She was my first role model. Jade is brilliant, it’s just we [girls] have had to push a bit harder. As girls we’ve pushed things forward.”

Bunton was born and raised as a Catholic with her younger brother in Finchley, north London. Her parents worked hard to provide for their children but separated when she was about 11, which she struggled with. (“I don’t like change too much,” she says.) Until her father, a former milkman, recently moved to Ireland, she would visit him every Sunday. Privately educated at the Sylvia Young Theatre School in London, she was granted a scholarship when her parents could no longer afford the fees.

Though not one to dwell on failure, even she began to question herself when the rejections kept coming. “You’d think, ‘I’m just not good enough,” she says. It wasn’t until she auditioned to become the fifth member of the Spice Girls that her big break arrived. She was asked there and then to move in with the others in Maidenhead - and the rest is nineties pop history.

Part of the Spice Girls’ selling point was their girl-next-door image. While it could not be said that *** was removed from the equation - theUnion Flag dress Halliwell performed in at the 1997 Brit Awards left little to the imagination and many of Brown’s leopard print outfits were an exercise in cleavage-display - *** appeal was not the main draw. Yet even if looks weren’t the focus (wasn’t it all supposed to be about fun, girl power and attitude?) Bunton hasn’t always felt secure about her body image.

“Obviously [body shape] is such a big thing in this industry,” she says. “I’m 5ft 1in so I feel that sometimes being curvaceous is harder to carry off because I’m so short. But I’m comfortable. I’ve always been that kind of way. In the industry it is becoming a bit more difficult because everybody is so slight, it’s quite unbelievable. I don’t know how they do it.”

When she first joined the group she felt relaxed enough about her appearance, but went through “probably a very short stage when everything hit and there were pictures everywhere and you think, ‘Do I look OK?’” This faded, and having children has helped stop her worrying about this. “It’s something I just don’t take on board as much because I can’t,” she says. “But you’re being pictured every day or papped, so obviously there’s that pressure of hoping to look half decent in pics.”

Reflecting on how motherhood has transformed her, she goes on: “I used to be very self-absorbed, I’m sure, worrying about what I was going to wear to the next event or whether my roots were done,” she says. “I’ve changed as a person.”

So what about that long engagement? Will she ever get round to tying the knot? She and Jade will need their heads knocking together before they do, she says. “If we do, we’ll definitely elope,” she adds.

Career-wise, she remains ambitious. She has a small part in the forthcoming Absolutely Fabulous movie and would like to sing and act more, as well as branching out into comedy (she’s already been involved in Comedy Central’s Drunk History).

Pop culture doesn’t cast out the over-40s these days, so there’s no reason to think she won’t stick around. Nobody, after all, puts Baby in a corner.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2015
softcomponent Feb 2015
What made Anthony so elaborately cold in those early autumn months? What made him glare so sourly at my exhaustion whenever I slithered past his adonis figure in our overwhelmingly ***** kitchen? Was I the quintessence of a terrible roommate? Irresponsible? Ditzy? Was the kitchen—in its pig-trough pig-sty bacon-grease glory—tacitly my fault, despite the observation it'd been I who had purged the mess last? Or was it my drug habits and the fact that on the night Anthony returned from his impulsive trip to Alaska, I was with Chris—blasting Bob Dylan and the Tallest Man on Earth—cradling my chin on the jean-sand islands of my cramping knees, high as a shuttle in the ketamine nebula? These were all questions that stoked the fires of internal doubt whether I liked it or not. People pretend to talk themselves out of status anxiety as if it were possible to entirely neutralize such a natural reaction—as if it were possible not to wonder what earned such irrational disfavor in the eyes of another. Especially when “another” is a roommate, an almost omnipotent staple in day to day life even if efforts are taken to ignore or avoid—a constant weave of growing atmospheric pressure and a pang of anxiety at the sight of his shoes or the sound of his grunts and clangs while at work on a meal in the kitchen—of course, as is obvious, I can take things far too personally. But there were points in which his silence or indifference would scare me—as if he might've wound up a psychopath and broke my neck in a fit of overboiled passive-aggression.
To be fair and give the reader a clearer picture of Anthony, he had—historically—been an incredibly generous fellow and a relatively close friend long before we approached one another on the idea of potential roommates. He was large in build—not overweight in any sense—but incredibly fit with an active agenda to exercise and eat right, both habits of which I had never had the stamina to maintain. Girls loved him. Physically, he was gorgeous—puffy curled hair deliberately stylized into a modern European pompadour; dark hazel eyes with a constantly evolving dynamism in the way they gazed... and a masculine stubble that seemed to naturally grow-out to look as posh as David Beckham, just without all the effort and pomp. Mentally, he was the perfect synthesis of adorable geek, thoughtful philosopher, and strikingly suave, dapper, athletic, and goofy 'good-guy'—he was always out with his friends or at home reading Terry Goodkind's fantasy novels, and on occasion I would see that his looks were almost burdensome to him. As if they were a superfluous gift and a personal curse—constantly forcing him into social over-exertion as an extrovert when he, at heart, was a closet introvert unable to disentangle his self-reflective image from his internal reality. As if he were unable to process the amount of attention he received.
I had tacitly wondered, at times, if he was also in-the-closet regarding something else as well, though I had always admired his effeminate qualities and mannerisms as he never once hinted at a negative self-consciousness about their strange manifestations in open view of the world. Externally, at least, he never acted like they were problems or indicative of some internal lack of found-definition, even on the comical occasion when I walked in on him bathing on his lonesome, quietly listening to Miley Cyrus and playing with a troupe of three rubber duckies—the bathroom light off and several candles burning in aesthetically strategic corners of the room. He also constantly brewed tea using an adorable teapot designed to look like an elephants head, with the hot liquid pouring from the Disney-like characters trunk. This—I reflected—was most certainly connected to his love for the 1941 children's classic, Dumbo. It was a movie he and I held in common, having watched it together on multiple occasions before our cohabiting turned sour. Of course, what was most indicative of this private wandering judgement of mine was the fact that he worked at the city's only gay bar as the youngest bartender employed. At 1 AM every night, all the bartenders (whom were pre-screened eye candy for the patrons' sake) would peel off their skin-tight neon tops and romp around shirtless, shouting last-call through the bright-eyed frey of top 40 hits and cannonading flirtations.  
Not that I wish to put him under the microscope, as if any feminine qualities in a man were something strange or problematic to me—nor do I wish to study his mannerisms like a condescending anthropologist of imperial Britain, establishing pathological definitions for what was never an illness to begin with. No... I ask these questions because he decided, one day, that he didn't like me. I ask these questions because I came upon him in the living room multiple times listening to Alan Watts's lectures on taoism—a strange anxious-emptiness behind his eyes—and when I began to worry he was dipping into some sort of existential depression, I approached him with an Alan Watts book—The Wisdom of Insecurity—in order to make a recommendation and strike up therapeutic conversation on the basis of  a philosopher we had in common. As I did so, he would frantically nod and avert eye-contact, hiding any perturbation well enough for me to assume he was still with me as I spoke. I later found the book on top of the fridge and placed it back on my shelf thinking, 'he probably has a ton to read as is.' It only became apparent when I finally decided to ask him if he was unhappy with me—this was about 2 weeks before he finally moved out—and he responded with, “I've definitely been annoyed that you use my stuff and eat my food all the time without compensation or asking,” which I understood at first until I realized I only did so because he did the same—constantly eating my cereal, using my milk, reorganizing my couches in the living room—but I didn't mind because I assumed it was a reciprocal arrangement and thus took his eggs and his bacon on the assumption (and belief) in pooled communal resources. But he continued: “And you talk at me all the time about things I have no interest in which is kinda frustrating,” which confused me even further when it was only friendly concern I was tacitly attempting to translate into his feeling wanted and liked by the person he lived with. These words, in the end, released the built-tension between us like a bursting pressure valve. He eventually apologized for how he'd behaved, and then largely disappeared from my life.

Sometimes I'll be brushing my teeth, and I'll wonder if he's doing alright. I'll wonder if he found his taoist balance in either silence or speech.
originally written as a personal assignment for my Creative Nonfiction class.
Sia Jane Mar 2014
Love bug, lady crush, peeking through a midnight sky,
Deep Purple, Smoke on the Water, before a
glimmer in her eye,
90's girl, child stars of, The Disney Club,
Timberlake, Spears, Aguilera,
Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls dominating,
every air wave,
Victoria Beckham, her Parsons inspiration
fashion designer she'll fight her way,
to the top, so much power in her name,
yet even stripped bare, she'd be a star,
her talent to sketch, draw and drape,
falls on knees bent, if only we pray,
to even have an ounce from her display,
I know few like her, love unconditional,
we're the writers seeking solace,
an unforgiving pain,
life taking so much drain,
in the light of day this pain brings forth,
an edge to your art, a masochistic feel,
creating itself a soul untamed.

You write to remember, you sketch your dreams
hopelessness turns to desire,
the dark cloud of youth,
dissipates in the air,
knowing there is a way through,
treachery and despair.

My dear, you may some days,
feel in that gutter trying to,
catch a star,
but today you shine, as bright as
a diamond in this very same sky,
we see across continents,
each night that we pray.

Release the grip, lessen the pull,
fly and fly,
sore heights so high,
you ain't ever coming down.

© Sia Jane
My little love bug, celebrates her birthday today and this little bit of poetry, if we can call it that, is the least I can do. Love you angel <3
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2015
one reason why you're not read with a volume you
expected, jedi-know-how, you'll be easily plagiarised.*

when i first came to england i fell in love
with manchester united...
the 4 - 4 - 2 line-up


peter schmeichel (dane goalkeeper),
then ooh aah cantona (eric cantona baseball  cap),
original wembley white towers...
(white towers, charity shield
newcastle united)
so meh for the arch....
irwin... steve bruce... lee sharpe...
gary pallister... (7) eric cantona.... george best....
mcclair, ryan giggs,
cotton tomilisom, then roy keane...
then davies cole ****...
the neville brothers...
scholes and david beckham...
**** stuck to azkazam fudge, it's still perfectly refrigerated
in kazakhstan:

steve mcmanaman will tell you;
it's a random barricade question worth a shot
in the rubric of a sudden challenge.
judy smith Jun 2015
A Scots fashion student has been snapped up by design house Calvin Klein after impressing them with his stylish menswear collection.

The Glasgow School of Art already counts leading fashion designers Louise Gray, Pam Hogg and Jonathan Saunders amongst its celebrated former-students.

Now final year fashion design student Jonathan Douglas, 24, from Ballater, has been added to this illustrious list after being plucked by the US clothing company following an interview with them in January.

Jonathan who showcased his designs alongside ten other students from his course said: “I was told by email that after I graduate I will relocate to Amsterdam to work for Tommy Hilfiger Calvin Klein as part of their first ever European graduate creative programme. I was really excited but I’ve just tried to remain calm and continue to work on things for the show today.”

Jonathan can’t wait to live in Amsterdam to spend ten months with each label, then look at the business side of things.

He said: “My aim was to work for a global brand that had a truly global reach because as a designer it will push me to learn about fashion as a global industry. Tommy Hilfiger and Calvin Klein have always been labels with a true heritage that I’ve admired and they always try to innovate as well.”

He added: “The beauty about fashion is that you can travel, there are no boundaries and there are different people with different cultures - and fashion translates across that.”

Jonathan, who has a business degree, and has interned for Victoria Beckham, Carolina Herrera and Lacoste, was also awarded a schools and colleges British Fashion Council and Top Man award earlier this year.

He said of his fashion: “It’s quite creative but still staying within menswear silhouettes.

“It’s a contemporary menswear collection, forward thinking with clean line silhouettes contrasting with crazy textures. I’ve used foiling, hand painting with silicon paint and collaborated with print design too. It’s quite monochromatic. I think we are encouraged here to push the boundaries of our designs and think outside the box a bit because we don’t want to create something that has been produced before.”

Amongst his more adventurous pieces, Jonathan has designed a see through lightweight top with silicon painted shorts.

But despite his new job with a major label Jonathan isn’t planning to get his designs places on the latest celebrities.

He explained: “I’m not a big celeb fan. It’s a great way to promote fashion but it’s not my main focus.”Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/red-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/white-formal-dresses
Ben Jones Jun 2013
The Night before Christmas of the Living Dead

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all down the street
Came a howling of wind and a lashing of sleet
The stockings were hung by the 50 inch plasma
And parents were snoring like bulldogs with asthma

The children were nestled in cosy wee places
With smug little grins on their villainous faces
Their mum in her nightie and I in my skin
Were of Christmassy spirit, specifically Gin

When out in the garden, a moaning was heard
I sprang to my feet without breathing a word
To the curtains I leapt like a naturist ninja
As spry as a horse with an **** full of ginger

And what did I spy as I peeped through the crack?
No jolly fat Santa or magical sack
It was as I had feared but had always expected
The zombies were here and St. Nick was infected!

His sled, with a frenzy of giblets, was smitten
And was pulled by a mob of the people he’d bitten
He threatened and jabbed them to get them to run
And struck at their heads with the **** of his gun

“Now Arnie, now Johnny, Now Barrak Obama
On Oprah, on Beckham and on Dalai Lama
On half of Madonna and Samuel L. Jackson
And run for your lives at the sound of the claxon”

The sled rose aloft dragging corpses behind
Like a wedding day prank from a murderous mind
And with more than a hint of the melodramatic
An almighty crash rattled down from the attic

Still dressed, as it were, in my birthday attire
Some pants and a chainsaw, my only desire
I crept on my tippy-toes, ever so soft
And I heard a grim sound from the stairs to the loft

I searched for a weapon and first to my hand
Was a porcelain Goofy from Disney land
I ran from the bedroom to battle my foe
I turned to the stairs, but now where did he go?

When a breath on my neck made me shiver and freeze
And a trickle of ***** advanced to my knees
I came to my senses and spun on the spot
And before me pulsating with maggots and rot

There stood zombie Santa, he drooled as he leered
His eyes filled with hunger and blood in his beard
I screamed and I bolted, I ran down the stairs
I bounced and I bounded and leapt them in pairs

I rounded the corner and flung back the door
I flicked on the light but could journey no more
The windows were gone and in every direction
Were lurching the victims of zombie infection

They lunged and they nibbled and ripped me apart
They tore out my liver and chewed on my heart
Like tinsel, my entrails hung on the tree
My kidneys were baubles and under it, me

And while they made meals of my pieces of mind
Upstairs there was gore of a similar kind
The missus was mangled and minced in her sleep
And Santa selected the pieces he’d keep

The children still snoozed with not even a groan
The zombies sensed evil, and left them alone
Now their job was completed they hastened away
To the attic they galloped to rev up the sleigh

With a scrape and a grind and a clatter of slate
They took to the air to continue their spate
And the voice of St. Nick could be heard from the sky
“Merry Christmas to all and to all……

DIE!”
Mundia Mbao Oct 2013
I remember it like it was yesterday.          She was my all.                                         She was my everything.                            My Pillar of strength!                               The person I'd talk to when I was down. The person who'd openly remove my frown.                                                    One girl who instantly changed my life!                            
She was there when I was insecure.         When I was timid and felt very poor.      From when I was confident and secure.  To when I was ignorant and un-sure.      
She completed me and made me feel whole.                                                   I was electricity,and she was coal.           I was David,and she was Victoria Beckham.                                               We had that instant. connection!              Like Jackie Chan and Action.                          

The two of us together were inseparable.                                          We had that Ross and Rachel kinda love.                                                      It felt like it was something far from above.....                                                   Until finally...Reality struck.                    
She suddenly started to change.           From her attitude.                                 Down to her swagger.                            She was just totally different

And she had the nerve to tell me that it was just a stage in her development....     But as I looked her,I could see there was no longer any sentiment....               She was doing her best to please the crowd.                                                    And she had the nerve to tell me that she was tryna "Make me proud".              
Then one night everything disintegrated.                                         At her party I found her kissing my best friend....who knew it would take a year for my heart to mend....                    
And then the next morning,I woke up and she was gone!                                There was no one.                                  Just me and my pillow!                          Just me waking up and hearing people say,"You reap what u sow"
judy smith May 2016
Arriving, I find her briefing three press assistants on her upcoming catwalk show while simultaneously rifling through her closet — a dressing-up box filled with animal print and lacy confections — to choose her outfit for our shoot, while Desert Island Discs plays in the background.

Tucked at the end of a row of terraced houses close to London’s Portobello Road, Temperley discovered the six-bedroom property was on the market two years ago through her close friend, the designer Jasmine Guinness. The unique two-storey villa has a studio-style extension on the back of the property designed by the Victorian architect, Richard Norman Shaw.

She moved in 18 months ago with her son, Fox, 7, and her boyfriend, Greg Williams, 43, a portrait photographer, along with his two children from a previous relationship. ‘I’ve always been a Notting Hill girl at heart. I love that it’s so green, I love the market and my offices are around the corner.’

Temperley cites the interior designer Rose Uniacke (the creative genius behind the Beckham’s Holland Park home) as inspiration for fashioning her own interiors: ‘Rose has beautiful taste, sleek, clean but still really soft.’

The house’s all-white interior provides the perfect backdrop for Temperley to hang her beloved antique cut-crystal chandeliers and floor-to-ceiling mirrors sourced from Golborne Road’s Les Couilles du Chien — famous for its historic bric-a-brac — and the Clignancourt flea market in Paris. The most striking of these is an intricately etched diptych of French brasserie mirrors that sits proudly over her living room sofa.

For colourful accents, she looked to her archive of textiles, which ranges from heirlooms from her great-grandmother’s travels around the Orient to remnants of past fashion collections: ‘I have big haberdashery drawers, which are used for storing my collection in a warehouse in Greenford,’ she says. Having such a vast collection gives her the chance to indulge in some serious upcycling; a Mexican rainbow throw livens up a plain cream sofa while a wedding cloak from Turkmenistan makes a quirky wall-hanging.

Despite the global influences, the Union Jack is a recurrent motif: ‘When I worked in New York [in the mid-Noughties] I was called ‘Little Miss English’. I loved using materials such as lace and lots of references to Victoriana — all very British.’ Look closely, and you’ll find red, white and blue accents everywhere — on teacups, Roberts radios and on silk cushions.

‘To me, being British represents being able to be individual, eccentric and not taking yourself too seriously.’

Temperley was born and grew up in Somerset on her family’s cider farm in Martock, before moving to London aged 18 to study fine art at the Royal College of Art. The countryside has an ineluctable pull for Temperley and she carves her time between her office — ‘probably 80 per cent of the time, 10 per cent of the time here, 5 per cent in Somerset at the moment, and 5 per cent everywhere else’.

But if her west London home is all breathy shades of Farrow and Ball, Temperley’s country pile — a sublime 5.6-acre regency property called Cricket Court that was once the media magnate Lord Beaverbrook’s home — is the opposite: ‘In Somerset my sitting room is dark burgundy, we’ve got black bedrooms and an ochre-coloured library.’

To bring a little of the country back to the capital, Temperley peppers her house with beautiful bunches of wild flowers, sourced from florist Juliet Glaves, who grows her own blooms in Shropshire: ‘I always loved The Secret Garden and as a child I spent hours collecting flowers and drying rose petals on every surface. I am a hopeless romantic at heart and I love British country gardens and their flowers.’

Another great passion of Temperley’s is reading and no corner, staircase or table in the house is complete without stacks of books and fashion magazines: ‘Sally Tuffin [the British fashion designer-turned-ceramicist] has got an incredible fashion library at her home in Somerset and my dream one day is to have a room lined in books.’

As for the rest of the London house? It’s very much a work in progress, ‘especially being a working mum. It’s more collecting things and putting them together in a very relaxed way. Like in fashion design, when it comes to interiors things either work together or they don’t. I have a good eye and don’t like to be constricted to just doing clothes — I’d like to go into interiors. That’s the next chapter’.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/red-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses
judy smith Aug 2016
2016 Museum of Modern Art Party in the Garden - Inside
Vera Ellen **** is an American fashion designer who is mostly known for her dresses. But most do not know that she started out with a higher education at Sarah Lawrence College.

She had a bachelor degree in art history. The founder of Vera **** Bridal House has become one of the most successful entrepreneurs. She was able to fulfill her dreams with a college degree. She is one of the world's most successful business tycoons that learned about entrepreneurship. If you want to have a degree in design or fashion, and at the same time explore business, then following Vera ****'s career path might be something you can consider. According to Rasmussen, **** has an estimated net worth of $115 million.

**** grew up with Chinese roots but she was born and raised in New York. She initially graduated from Chapin school in 1967 and then attended the University of Paris. Afterwards, she went to Sarah Lawrence College in Westchester County and took a degree in art history.

What many do not know is that she competed in the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. She was featured in Sports Illustrated, 1968 edition. When she did not make the cut for the US Olympics, she set her sights on fashion.

With her background in art, she entered Vogue as an editor immediately after graduating from Sarah Lawrence. She was the youngest editor in the publication. She moved on to Ralph Lauren 17 years later. At the age of 40, she became an independent bridal wear designer.

With her experience and education, she now works with renowned fashion designers and designs for the likes of Victoria Beckham, Ivanka Trump, Avril Lavigne and Kim Kardashian.

She does not limit her designs to wedding dresses alone. She also ventures into the realm of evening wear and retail.

Vera ****'s success stems from her love of fashion. To this day, she still enjoys skating though as a "multidimensional" sport.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses
Noah H May 2016
I woke up one morning

Actually I've woken up every morning including this one.

Next

Sometimes at night I sleep (that's also a joke)

When I look at you
You're beautiful.
Its when I look away that you're a ****** up mess.

Sometimes when I'm sad, I name all of my greatest accomplishments. I dont mean to brag or anything but I was born so hard. They even gave me a certificate for it.

I love getting drunk and leaving myself letters, I found one the other day and it said "help me. I want to die so bad. I drink because maybe one day my heart will pump exclusively alcohol and my brain will shrivel and die, taking all these ****** up thoughts with them" what a prankster.

No but seriously, have you ever thought a guy was cute. Not in like a "I would totally **** David Beckham"  sort of way but like, nice face bro. No ****, amiright?

Shout out to all my friends. You guys actually find me amusing sometimes. That's impressive. I'm an alcoholic because I listen to my own jokes

I like telling people a joke and then when they laugh I say something funnier to follow up like "making other people laugh is the only reason I have Kurt cobained myself".

I mean come on. What is pain without humor. Sometimes it's nice to take a break. Being so deep can really hurt you, but you don't have to worry about that because I'm small.

Thank you.
judy smith Sep 2015
Neelam Gill showed off her figure in a very risqué gown with a split running from her shoulder down past her bottom.

How cheeky - Neelam Gill went all-out on Wednesday night as she flashed her *** in a rather risque dress.

The stunning model - who is rumoured to be dating former One Direction man Zayn Malik - stunned at a glitzy event in London this week.

Wearing a floor-length green gown, Neelam gave onlookers a bit of an eyeful with a split down the back of the outfit, revealing a hint of her bottom.

With layers and a front split showing off a lot of leg, the 20-year-old certainly made an impression during the party.

She stepped out at the London Evening Standard's Progress 1000 Most Influential People launch, and showed why she may have grabbed Zayn's attention .

The star - who has made her catwalk debut for Burberry - is reportedly planning on jetting to Los Angeles, where the singer is working on his debut solo album, so they can spend some time together .

According to Mail Online, Zayn and Neelam first met in London back in March, but nothing happened because he was still engaged to Little Mix star Perrie.

They bumped into each other again at the Asian Awards in London a month later, with Neelam later writing on Twitter: "Congratulations on your award tonight zaynmalik, catch up again soon!"

The pair reportedly stayed in touch as friends until Zayn and Perrie called it quits at the end of last month.

A source told the site: "Neelam doesn't know if she wants all of the drama that comes with dating someone in the public eye. She is going to LA to spend some time with Zayn and see how things go from there.

Last month, the model, who worked with Romeo Beckham in Burberry's Christmas advert last year , wrote on Twitter: "to live and die in LA, it's the place to be..."

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide
Ben Jones Dec 2014
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all down the street
Came a howling of wind and a lashing of sleet
The stockings were hung by the 50 inch plasma
And parents were snoring like bulldogs with asthma

The children were nestled in cosy wee places
With smug little grins on their villainous faces
Their mum in her nightie and I in my skin
Were of Christmassy spirit, specifically Gin

When out in the garden, a moaning was heard
I sprang to my feet without breathing a word
With a hint of a stagger and stumbling feet
I went to the curtains all sly and discreet

And what did I spy as I peeped through the crack?
No jolly fat Santa or magical sack
It was as I had feared but had always expected
The zombies were here and St. Nick was infected!

His sled, with a frenzy of giblets, was smitten
And was pulled by a mob of the people he’d bitten
He threatened and jabbed them to get them to run
And struck at their heads with the **** of his gun

“Now Arnie, now Johnny, Now Barrak Obama
On Oprah, on Beckham and on Dalai Lama
On half of Madonna and Samuel L. Jackson
And run for your lives at the sound of the claxon”

The sled rose aloft dragging corpses behind
Like a wedding day prank from a murderous mind
And with more than a hint of the melodramatic
An almighty crash rattled down from the attic

Still dressed, as it were, in my birthday attire
Some pants and a chainsaw, my only desire
I crept on my tippy-toes, ever so soft
And I heard a grim sound from the stairs to the loft

I searched for a weapon and first within sight
Was the bottle of ***** for Boxing Day night
I ran from the bedroom to battle my foe
I turned to the stairs, but now where did he go?

When a breath on my neck made me shiver and freeze
And a trickle of ***** advanced to my knees
I came to my senses and spun on the spot
And before me pulsating with maggots and rot

There stood zombie Santa, he drooled as he leered
His eyes filled with hunger and blood in his beard
I screamed and I bolted, I ran down the stairs
I bounced and I bounded and leapt them in pairs

I rounded the corner and flung back the door
I flicked on the light but could journey no more
The windows were gone and in every direction
Were lurching the victims of zombie infection

They lunged and they nibbled and ripped me apart
They tore out my liver and chewed on my heart
My giblets, like tinsel, were strung on the tree
And beneath lay the presents in puddles of me

And while they made meals of my pieces of mind
Upstairs there was gore of a similar kind
The missus was mangled and minced in her sleep
And Santa selected the pieces he’d keep

The children still snoozed with not even a groan
The zombies sensed evil, and left them alone
Their work was complete so they hastened away
To the attic they galloped to rev up the sleigh

With a scrape and a grind and a clatter of slate
They took to the air to continue their spate
And the voice of St. Nick could be heard from the sky
“Merry Christmas to all and to all……

DIE!”
Hannah Thacker Aug 2010
I am from climbing the rocks by the beach with the dim morning light of the rising sun filtering through the morning fog of summertime.

I am from lying in my warm bed, giving into my dreams while listening to my mom sing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”

I am from the foggy mornings in Monterey Bay watching the sun burn through the marine layer every day. The sun always won its morning battle, but while it struggled I would watch the rainbows come dancing through the fog.

I am from sitting in Mr. ***** coffee shop, sipping hot chocolate with piles of whipped cream and a smile on my face on cold Friday nights, listening to my dad play Paco Bell Cannon on violin while Hannah Beckham plays on the cello.

I am from playing in the waves on warm summer days; catching the sand ***** and throwing them back into the ocean. Finding seashells and putting them in my dad’s pocket so I didn’t have to carry them.

I am from walking down Soquel Creek, finding big rocks, falling in the water, riding on my dad’s shoulder on the way back because I got tired, and playing on the swing set that was at the end of it.

I am from hiking through Nicene Marks Redwood forest with my dad and whoever wanted to come. Watching the leaves fall down off the trees, ever so slowly, like angels falling from heaven.

I am from the night I moved from all I ever knew, watching my child hood home fading in the distance.  I watched while my friends waved at me as they faded away in both my vision and my memory. I never saw them again.  Goodbye, I whispered, as every thing I ever knew faded away. Goodbye.
I still remember stepping on a worm barefooted that night.  Now I can't stand worms.  It ****** that night when my friend tryed to get me to get one for fishing. I refused, and she threw a handful of worms in my face.
Olivia Kent Dec 2015
The bulldog on the rat run twiddled with his buttons.
The lady in the Beckham boot wobbled on one high heel.
Clickety clack.
Sounded like a walking pair of knitting needles.
Still the rain poured.
Getting right wet.
A day work bound and home again.
Ne'er to forget.
(c)LIVVI
judy smith Oct 2016
One of the more ambitious ventures in Irish fashion is taking place inWaterford at the Lismore Atelier. A social enterprise project that began a year ago to help revive manufacturing skills in Ireland, it is located in a former library building in the historic town. The workshop is now humming with state-of-the-art machines assembling clothes – cutting, sewing, overlocking, buttonholing, hemming, pressing and finishing.

Training in production and sewing skills is also given thanks to a €80,000 investment from the local council and the education and training board (ETB). Managing all this activity is Limerick School of Art and Design graduate Maggie Danaher, who lives locally.

The results can be seen in Mary Gregory’s 34-piece autumn/winter collection which has impressed all who see it for the quality, not just of its fabrics but its finish and attention to detail. An international Irish stylist based in Italy could not believe the collection had been made in Ireland, when viewing it on a recent visit.

Even calling it an “atelier”, the French word for workshop or studio, attests to its commitment to be as good internationally as any sought-after facilities inFrance or Italy. Gregory and her husband, Aidan McCarthy, a skilled tailor who worked for the fashion designer Patrick Howard in Dublin for 10 years in the 1970s, researched methods and machinery used by the top Italian companies who make for brands such as Gucci and Stella McCartney, with the aim of reproducing them in Ireland.

“I wanted to prove it could be done here,” says Gregory. “We can make clothes to this standard but it takes time, skill and investment,” she says. The plan is to attract other Irish designers to the facility which they hope will be ready by next year when a skilled production manager and sample and production machinists can provide the requisite top class service – presumably at competitive prices.

Currently Lismore Atelier has a tailor who samples for Victoria Beckham and Comme des Garçons who is brought in on a contract basis along with a production machinist. Gregory describes Lismore as the perfect place for a designer to be completely focussed and more accessible than places in Italy.

Gregory, who started making clothes at the age of six and developed a successful career in the 1980s and 1990s, was known for the strong visual effect of her designs. She moved with McCarthy to Lismore more than a decade ago and concentrated on rearing their two sons, restoring a 19th-century house in Villierstown while also working as visual and design director of the Maison & Chateau group. Her new collections remain true to her aesthetic of form and fabric with an emphasis on architectural shapes with embellishment and detail. The fabrics are luxurious and include grosgrain, double crepe, wool and silks with notable finesse of finish.

The collection is now in the International Designer Rooms in Brown Thomas where Gregory will be on hand on Saturdays to show it or by appointment.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
John Bartholomew Oct 2015
Was he a disciple or just a friend of Jesus
So many to choose from it carries on through the ages
Whether you hail from the sunny realms of Brazil as Juan
Or lead your life on the bus tops of Paris, showboating to the tourists as Jean
you are always just John

Did you see that goal on Sunday in Barnsley from Pedro
crossed in on a sixpence by that guy on loan from Bristol
Parading as the next man to steal the footballing thrown from Beckham
Just a council house kid from the block down in Peckham
again, just John

Kissing the Blarney stone an excuse for his gob
the banter the laughter hiding the rile in his job
that day in Ireland that Sean always dreams of
going back would be heaven, to find the girl he should have once loved
again, just John

The shores of Naples looking out over the sea
Ischia, Procida, Capri, the place he’d rather be
behind lays dormant, Vesuvius once angry
Pompeii, Herculaneum destroyed in its fury
now time to spread his net and look for new shores
only Gino knows it’s time to open new doors
again, just John

No matter where you are from
there is somebody like you just struggling along
troubles brew in every corner of this planet
don’t think it’s just you who really cannot stand it
again, just John

Difficulty is rife no matter where you seem to look
your boss is a grievance and you wish them long gone
but it’s not just you, it’s you and every other John
so I’ll say it again without a look in the mirror
I know your stress my friend because I am that man
yes that is me
I am just John
Chris Apr 2010
Beckham's kick and Lampard's head
A whole hour we had lead

Now terraced grief sits swathed in red
England's win, swiftly dead

The mourners gather hearts of lead
Hopes of glory now are fled

No more the hallowed turf to tred
Englands players - early bed
Just change the names for the next world cup.
(It's about the football world cup - or the soccer world cup if you aren't from these parts. England's national sport...if only we were good at it!)
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
even my mother says: i've become a ******* peasant in this society of suggested tact hidden and later exposed in group theory, a ******* peasant! no wonder this society gave us Newton! well, i just say: origins of the English woman: fair play originating in **** (Greece)... but god knows where the paedophilia fetish comes from; stone cold hearted *****... swim the Thames solo!

i'm waiting my 40th in ten years time, and i'm already looking like a disgraced idol, fancy that, rebellious against the crucifix ideal of a six-pack stretched on the rack of vertical suffocation, a fine magic trick, between the years 18 through to 21: now you see me... now you don't! the same amount of time it took "salvation" to start up his dyslexic library of Al Capote's brood of thigh-thick neck gorillas doing the muscle-work... oh i have no concern for youth or Madame Tussauds (it wasn't enough for the ***** to capitalise on the Victorian hearsay to take photographs of the dead, you had to mould them... the cure between you and me is... cremation and dispersing in the Ganges to fulfil the element's haphazard inclusion... all the horror comes from the resurrection, and keeping the body seemingly alive in both death and life: plastic surgery is always worth a coffin prior, and the body isn't even worth a burial, just a advert for the proceedings to keep the familial ties in furore for the media! leeches that serve no medicinal purposes! c.i.a. heard of me first; just before the N.S.A. revelations i could have been warned, public security all in all, at least Saddam was a name that wasn't *Big
and at least Saddam had a surname Hussein that wasn't Brother. oh ****'s happening in England, you bet... all the Irish horses win the derbies... it took me about 3 years to forget all the effort i put into magnetising *****, turned out that after 3 years i ended up being a stereotypical 50 year old idol with puffy cheeks battling insomnia as best i could.... but of course, the same people who loved looking at you aged 18 suddenly turning gangrene green with you aged 50 and summarising it as: i too wanted a hot-air balloon ride into the sight of paparazzi! imagine, i've just passed 30 and you're 50, Johnny, i'm looking as much-****-you-all-as-you... it's wonderful! if i wasn't awake for the past 40 odd hours treating alcohol as a magic sedative i'd be raging with a wine bottle around the place too... you know that women cry best when they lie?

i can understand the common foe,
indoctrination en masse,
but i just don't understand this atheistic movement;
esp. the vector of its clenched fist,
perhaps Radio 1 not playing
iron maiden's *bring your daughter to the
slaughter
perfectly collapsed argumentation
for rage against the machine versus
the x-factor christmas no. 1?
well, there's that... but why is atheism
not attacking secular religiosity?
why not attack the parents who indoctrinate
their children to support their football team
to sway them away from hooliganism?
you want to attack old perverts and the nunnery
of grannies of the catholic church
but feign to recognise the same brainwashing
of those children taught that they were
predestined to support a football team
of their un-choosing? would't we all want puppets
like those given to us... replace the churches
with the modern coliseums! replace factions of
dogma with bending Beckham from Leytonstone
in full guise of arthritis or gummy toes
kicking up rugby ball for the head-in with
a set-piece - **** TEE! DUMP TEE! WOBBLE
THAT ONE IN WITH A UKULELE SOLO!
2D World Apr 2015
What is your gift?
Is it tons that you can lift
Are you a racer can you drift
On the track are you swift
In the water do you swim
Are you very good at gym
In chess can you check em
Can you bend it like Beckham
We all have talents
that we are given from birth
Some get em from their parents
but how much are they worth
They come in special package s
that you unwrap
Their like an extra baggage
better than table scraps
Some of us are good at gaming
or creating our own raps
Some of us are good at animal taming
or taking long naps
So remember in life
to hit that rift
Because your gonna appreciate
the same old gifts
We're all special in our own way.
Salome Aug 2015
Seeing you smile is gulping water
In the middle of a long hike
Hearing you talk is peeing at last
After a 5-hour non-stop ride

Dreaming of you is eating tons
Without gaining a pound
Loving you is the happy feeling
Of escaping from an angry hound

Oh I want you like the genes that run
In the Beckham clan
Don’t you know how cool you are
That you should be banned?

But when I see you with the girl
Whose character I hate the most
I star in a movie
Being haunted by a ghost

My odd beauty
And this curvy body
Plus a pool of confidence
Is all I have

So I’m hoping
That it will be enough for you
To say, “I like you too!”
And to my wish will lead to “I love you too!”
Jack May Sep 2020
It was in my mother’s father’s final days when Beckham curled it in against Greece
It should have been wrapped up months or at least minutes prior
But for the English
Football is a beautiful form of torture
Some relief in the dark and painful last of his days
It may sound dramatic from the outside
But from the inside
When you’re in on the secret
Football has always been the beautiful game for a reason
And fate was sealed that day

The infamous Zidane headbutt
It came at a time when I was realising people aren’t perfect and heroes are human
For me, not a disgrace, but a lesson
The world’s greatest are also flawed

Lampard 2010 World Cup
It was over the line
I know it
You know it
But the greatest journeys all have their ups and downs
Their misfortunes and their injustices
Our time is nigh
It’s coming home

The psychopathic work ethic of Ronaldo
The glue on the boots of Messi
The precision of the Pirlo pass
The ‘Why always me?’
The ‘You’ll never walk alone’
The wins, the losses
The joy, the heartbreak
The frustration of supporting a yo-yo that never goes all the way up
An ode to my forever unmentioned Plymouth Argyle
The screamers, the blunders
From Thierry to Titus Bramble
Alonso to Okocha
The once-club-record-signing whose name now evades you
The heroes, the villains
The naive dream that maybe one day you’ll make it
And the hope that maybe this will be our year
The diving, the referees, the relegations, the failure
The 4-0 thrashings by the rivals, the penalties and quarter finals

I don’t know why I do it to myself
But I know that I wouldn’t have it any other way
This is the beautiful game
This is football
Thoughts of you dance through my head .
Micheal Jackson moon walking over
my heart.
Thoughts of you dance through my head
Tearing it ripping it apart.
Vivid
Silhouettes of you prancing around in my thoughts.
Send me into cardiovascular shock
Images of you
reflect
how you
Just
walked all over me
Like David Beckham
Playing for the world cup
Digging deep within my soul,
Soiled like a
New pair of cleats.
a wodge uh Wrigley’s
  ‘ard an knobbly on thuh underside
uh desks

shufflin’ tuh DJ Caspar
  in thuh ‘all
unduh thuh gaze uh
  year three’s

it were
  packed lunches,
dislodging mi brace
  from thuh roof of mi mouth
like extractin’ a tooth,
  scoffin’ bars uh white chocolate

years-old Blu-Tack
  stamped black intuh carpets,
grey plastic-y chairs,
  writin’ learnin’ objectives,
underlinin’ dates
  with shatterproof rulers,
I upgraded tuh a pen
  in year four

same time
  remember listenin’ on the radio
in Scottish Clark’s mobile
  when it wuh Ingland v Brazil,
summer uh ‘02,
  thuh likes of Sheringham, Beckham
in audio only, no picture,
  and thuh TA came in
  ‘alfway throo a lesson,
said ‘we’re out’

and the time
  I cort that cricket ball,
dived and it stung mi hand,
  a crimson-drizzled palm,
throbbin’ ring

and the time
  we played football wi’ tennis *****
and I blurted intuh a trio
  uh eager classmates,
a tumble-shirt compote,
  knee flecked wi’ grit, mi own spit,
skinny whispers uh blood

and thuh time
  I plagiarised Potter
around Azkaban,
  got a Woolies notebook,
ragged Pritt-Sticked cuttins’
  of Watson in the pink ‘oodie,
but it wuh the seed
  for thuh next decade and more,
standin’ up,
  tellin’ a story,
somethin’ or othuh
Written: October 2017.
Explanation: A poem written for university in my own time, influenced by the work of Liz Berry. Changes are very possible. It is written in a slightly exaggerated version of my accent. Please note that Wrigley's refers to the chewing gum company, DJ Caspar to the musician, year three's/year four to students aged between seven and nine in England, Blu-Tack to the putty-like adhesive, 'Ingland' v Brazil to the knockout round match in the World Cup of 2002 (David Beckham and Teddy Sheringham were players at the time), TA to teaching assistant, Woolies to the former British retail chain Woolworths, Pritt-Stick to the glue stick adhesive, and Watson to the actress Emma Watson. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.

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