Frankie slid into my bag and made my trip enjoyable

FRANKIE MAGAZINE : Frankie is straight-shooting, funny, intelligent and inspiring. Frankie celebrates individuality - manifested in our editorial perspectives, design values, fashion coverage and a mindset that allows for an absolutely unique point of view. Frankie – change is one thing I don’t mind. (extract from the Frankie Blurb)


I am an anti-gloss magazine type of woman. I haven't bought one in years. The only 'gloss' magazines I read are business specific or relative to our industry. For more years than I can remember I have purchased Practical Parenting. I can safely say this magazine has accompanied me on the parenthood road like a trusty guide and companion in arms. To Practical Parenting magazine a heart thank you old friend.


Its the 'womens' mags that I don't take to all that well. I like to call them the 'bling, bling, ting, gloss & made up gos coupled with the over-expectation of the stiletto healed, permanently coiffured, plastic mannequin culture.' 
Its great if you're into things that might include botox@20, budget outfits for only $700, revolving door boyfriends, acting the environmentalist life. 


Most women agree, even if secretly, mags like these are a visual plastic surgery to cover the ageing cracks of reality. Shiny & pretenious, 'gloss' style magazines are 90% advertising, the remaining 10% is the content that pushes the realistic boundaries by portraying high end lifestyles as the minimal social norm; certainly makes a mockery of the lives lead by the everyday suburban women. An unreachable expectation that usually has most women breathing out a unrequited sigh. 'If only I could......


For years I have perused the stands for a magazine to sate my thirst, searched for something intelligent, something light, real and uncluttered with hype. Every so often I find a rare gem in amongst what I call "MagTriangulation",  my 'sar-chasim' on the 3 main reading genres of magazines. I feel strangled by the lack 'unfearful' perspective on offer, or yet  to uncover.


I also abhor the over use of advertising in nearly all of them. Articles seem to disappear in the ravines of tiny spaces between the mountainous domination of advertising. Oh joy! did I buy this expensive mag for a handful of 3 paragraph articles or did I pay for the 300 pages of advertising with the articles thrown in as a tokinal gesture?


I like to read about real people, they don't always have to be the everyday heroes, though I adore them too. I savour content that is true, non-hype, down to earth; a realistic read without the blah of social tweedom, havetobe wannabe's, social correctness and the pandemic of ever increasing environmental bullying rammed in between the lines 
(must be pandemic level if anxious 3 year olds are tallying up their daily carbon footprint emissions before they go to sleep at night), I grew up with a simple prayer of thanks.


I like fashion. In general, I think it's a good idea to wear clothes. 
I enjoy seeing apparel that is individual, gutsy, subliminally out there, wearable and reachable, with a bent idea of comfort. 
Life seems to be a perpetual motion of fast paced 24 hour consumption of all things living. Yielding to the daily onslaught of regimentation, every moment accounted for. Rare is the opportunity to be an accidental tourist in your own day.


We even economise our time outs to simple micro stops, with a coffee 2 go, read and stand, waiting for the bus/train/taxi, emails in transit. On route publicly, we find that magazines are a friend, a buddy to keep us company in the awkwardness of waiting in a communal space shared with others.
A favourite mag that provides the literature of personal taste will be enough of a dynamic interlude to consider it a best friend of the moment.
Just like a chummy catch ups, a great mag will emotionally recharge the batteries until the next time, where we'll pick it up again, start where ever, no matter how long its been; both human & text friends are great value for that.
This is were advertising takes its place; in the consumers delight of discovery while in captured audience.


Sadly the success of advertising is no longer based on position but how much advertising is featured in the whole magazine; too much and the reader will automatically glaze over. Mag Readers might like to read with a balance of pictorial content, they also want to be swept away like a fling.
Conceptionaly, segueing articles and advertisements is extremely effective with lasting impact, but very rarely done. Spaces, like the tedious boredom of rote are permanently templated. Inside front cover is always the most expensive place to advertise, by that conditioning, consumers bypass it altogether.Sadly for the product owner it becomes a wasted financial enterprise.


Sadder still is the reader who faces the dilemma of being a Nigel. 
Single, an unattached reader. 
You see them hovering over magazine stands near train stations hoping to pair up with a compatible mag for their journey. Some will leave empty handed, for them its  a case of 'I'm between reads right now' others will head straight for second best, the quick use & dump variety of 'The 30 Minute Stand'; politely called a Newspaper.
Sometimes its love at first sight and this is how we get to Frankie.


My daughter sent me a text on her way to Tafe, "Frankie slid into my bag and made my trip enjoyable".
followed a little later with a text "Bringing Frankie home, cant wait for you to see".


Gulp. 
I hadn't planned on actually cooking.
I was going with the drag the feet and procrastinate approach till one of my sons, preferably the one that is an exceptional cook will offer to take over. 
Its a parental revenge thing.


I finished cooking a lovely meal for all 7 of us +1, when she came through the door, alone.


"Where's Frankie?"
Blank look. 
Ping! 
Gasps in complete awe as she revelled Frankie from her bag. 
Oh, it's not a person. 
Jubilant and excited about her find, her secret garden, her butterfly amongst a gale of moths. Obviously she was smitten, stricken with the love bug. Once I finally got the chance to handle Frankie, I was more than half way there too.
While we are getting to know Frankie better, two of the boys battle tug -o-war style over Frankie's plate.


I must be the only person in the entire world that cooked dinner for a magazine. Well if there ever was a magazine that could be a person, it would be Frankie!


There was an opportunity that Frankie and I would get some one on one time while I waited at  Little Miss Mischief's Judo class this afternoon, no, my oldest daughter has taken Frankie for the day, I will just have to find a Frankie of my own


Go find Frankie, the hunt for the shy flash of genius its well worth the treasure!
Another blog, written smoke free by the author. All rights reserved 2011 by Bubba Moe Slings Pty Ltd

Guiding your child through natural disasters

The whole world is at a standstill. All eyes are on one location; Japan.
The graphic images of chaos, turmoil, grief and the forces of nature are everywhere.

While your child is a baby you have as a parent complete control on what your baby is exposed to, as your child's social world expands that control of exposure diminishes.
The permanent control you have as parent is how they learn about life in their journey towards adulthood.

There will always be naturally occurring events around the world. Events that can be catastrophic, it is during this time many children will become stressed and very frightened. The best thing a parent can do at this time is to give information in a manner the child can digest at their level.

If a child asks or shows concern about a disaster, taking the time to answer as best you can is important to their emotional well being. Even if an event like this occurs in another country and culture, far from home, it still has an impact.
Fobbing a concerned child off with a "Don't worry about it, it has nothing to do with us because it is in another country" parenting attitude, will probably set a precedent for general apathy, lack of care and disrespect in the child.
Telling a child to "Take a spoonful of cement and harden the f*** up" as I heard one father say to his worried son yesterday isn't going to cut it at all.
Seriously though, the child was logically asking for that cement. Cement being in this case, the metaphor for information. This is his son's world too, a little time spent answering his questions and concerns will help his son to comprehend the impact and adjust to the chaos.
Children expect their parents to know everything, they also have the uncanny knack to want to talk urgently at the wrong time; if this is the case, acknowledge your child's concern, explain that now is not a good time for what ever the reason maybe and set a time, talking after soccer practise e.g., so that you can give them your full attention. Assure them that you will answer any questions that they might have as best as you possibly can. It might also give you enough time to get some facts right first, hopefully.
 To understand is to know, to teach in the moment, is to strengthen the bond of trust between a parent and their child.

Understand that children from a very young age are deeply empathic. At immunisation centres, the first baby that cries will set off all the others babies. Never disregard a child's fears, to them it is very real.

It is important that children are aware of disasters and all that they entail. In a non-rosebud way, disasters themselves offer the child an opportunity to learn, to develop social awareness and realise the world doesn't revolve around them only.
Sadly, it is a remarkable life lesson. Steering the child through this lesson, makes up the important part of the learning process. If you are not sure as to how much and how deep your discussion should go, take a cue from your child's questions, as to how much information is needed to satisfy their need. Start by allowing your child to ask questions first and answer it. If you are not sure of an answer, tell them, but suggest how both of you could find out.
There are ways to explain to a child what is occurring and why; there are also ways how NOT to explain to a child.

Supervise the viewing of all video coverage on any media, don't leave them on their own to watch broadcasts. Avoiding any segment that is a "A story that bleeds, leads" type. Children need to know what is going on, but some material can be too extreme and over exaggerated.

When children see images/footage on TV, computer, or any of the wide range of media available in this age, they feel they are there, it is about to happen to them. They see the events unfold before their very eyes, they feel it is in their space. Adults understand and comprehend the distance factor, children not so much, if at all.

For primary school children it is a good idea not to over complicate the situation by using this time to bring in your own political, social, cultural, environmental, religious or conspiracy views. If they ask, as most older children will, then its a natural time for them to know. My teenage son came home today asking about the 'Elite Globalist Movement", apparently a 'confirmed' source has stated that the earthquake and subsequent tsunami was deliberately engineered. He went into great detail on how this is not only a scientific possibility, but a feasible motive. I must admit he had me worried a little until we googled it.
I try not to stereotype people, but from my experience, the professors I personally know, have a distinguishable structural quality in their language, even when angered or insultive as opposed to these self professed "professors"who engaged in nothing higher than mud slinging, vile expletives that made my hair curl. It certainly slaughtered any credence to their possible theories. I left the site feeling remarkable more uplifted.

Ideally, every family home should have a book called an Atlas, a world globe and a state road map (maybe that one is in the glove box of the car). Often overlooked as the items for the nerds, geeks or even obsolete, it is at this time these items become incredibly valuable and powerful tools.

There is a specific psychological benefit to using these items first before heading straight to Google.

Tactile learning, where the child can 'finger' the globe, tracing a path with their finger from the event/country to home will give perspective, and reassure them they are safe from this disaster. It helps children to understand where they fit in globally at times like this. Children can relate to the 3 dimensional aspect of a globe, more easier to comprehend  than atlas maps, maps will have greater detail. One word of warning though, avoid buying ornamental globes. I spied one that had Africa touching Australia,  Papua New Guinea was no where to be found, curiously China and USA were rather large in comparison. Try Australian Geographic stores, their globes, like the one pictures display the countries in different colours for easy identification. Globes are great for general geographical knowledge

A child that is first reassured that they and their loved ones are safe, will then be able to understand the concept of help and giving aid. A critically important aspect into learning how to overcome hurdles, learn that there is always a way to rebuild no matter how bad the situation. It helps build social intelligence and self esteem.

I remember when I was 6, our relief teacher decided we should learn about volcanoes after a deadly eruption from Mt Etna had taken many lives. This is an example of how NOT to explain to children.

She explained in a very animated way how hot boiling lava flowed under our feet like a lake. Sometimes the lava was so hot that it exploded through the ground to release pressure. When this happens, people will die, it can happen at any time, any place, any moment. She ended her explanation with a very loud vocal 'boom'! The entire class flinched, instinctively lifting their feet off the ground.
If she wanted silence from the class, she had it after that.
Lunch time we all sat with our feet cautiously off the ground, when Debbie's apple fell and rolled away, she burst into tears, so did the rest of us. I just wanted to be home with my family if the earth was going to erupt at any minute.
Luckily dad, ironically a trip to  Newcastle the weekend before and a pot of boiling potatoes came to the rescue.

Dad armed with the globe and the atlas put my fears to rest.
He asked me if I remembered the trip to Newcastle the weekend before.
I remember, it seemed to take forever!!!

At a pit stop on our way to Newcastle, dad had decided to put an end to the "how long is it going to take" pestering coming from the back seat.
On the bonnet of the car he spread the road map. We found Avalon, where we lived, then Newcastle, where we had to go. He showed me the legend and got me to work out how long it would take, which is a great maths lesson anyway. He also had me trace the route, which was the highway, with my finger. Right then I understood the concept travelling a distance.

Dad located Italy on the globe and I found Australia. Using the legend we calculated the distance, he  asked me "How many trips to Newcastle would that be". I realised it was a lot of trips. But the teacher had said it could happen any where? Out came the Atlas and an attempted oral lesson on Teutonic plates, when we heard mum in the kitchen cursing at a pot of potatoes, boiling over. Dad had a better idea.

Standing at the doorway to the kitchen I could see the hot water splattering out from under the lid of the pot. "See where the water is trying to get out? its not cracking out from the side of the pot, or the handle, it's coming from the rim, which is the opening to the pot. The vent, this is how volcano's work, through vents that are already there " he said.
"If the pot is Mt Etna, then Australia is across the road in Marta's house. The bubbling pot is not going to hurt us over there is it?"
Right there I understood it all. I wasn't scared anymore, I felt relieved that they were evacuating the people who lived close to Mt Etna and how after the volcano calms down, the process of rebuilding would take place. In disasters like these, no one was left alone to deal with it
It was exactly the cement I needed to harden up.

We are using the same approach with our youngest Little Miss Mischief who is 7. We let her talk, ask, discuss as much as she needs. As a part of a large family, she has a huge support network flanking her. As a family we discussed all possible issues.
Though I was tickled pink that she rallied the other members of the family to donate money along with her stash;  it was adorable when she cheekily asked a driver who pulled his truck alongside our car at a set of traffic lights, if she could borrow it,
"Cause Japan has a lot of mess to take away and a lot of wood and bricks and food to bring back in. That's going to take a lot of trucks!".
 He said she could.

Another smoke free blog by the author. All rights reserved and belong to Bubba Moe Slings PTY LTD.

Mad Hatters Tea Party of sorts

I am not a good sleeper. I never was really (as my parents lamented), I probably never will be, but I would like at least some.

Friday morning, 2am, a tad earlier than normal 2.32am wake up call. I have this internal alarm clock that can't be turned off, or hidden under the pillow, the next room or even in the bin. I cant even send it flying across the room where it will shatter on impact with the innocent wall of the bedroom. Nope, no can escape this voodoo. 

Its OK, for I have company. 

Beautiful, sweet smiling #1 daughter working with urgency on her latest project. Again, just like a literal Deja Vu, we have gone through this before, every garment has to be ready before 8am, Saturday morning. This time its a production of eclectic fashion come costume with a splash of colourful whimsy.

If she had became the scriptwriter that we as her parents had intended her to be, I might have actually been asleep. I still hope and pray that one day she will show the world the magic of her words. Just maybe.

In role reversal, I work for her. My fee is naturally exorbitant, payment includes hugs, sleepless nights, and a newly self trained ability to overlook a 'neatless' house. 

I also have the honour of being the perpetual sounding board on constant tap; I'm available even if I'm asleep in my bed, lights off and at all. 

"Mum, mum", she shook me awake, "Before you get into a deep sleep I need your opinion on this angle". By the soft light illuminating from her Iphone, I listened to her  dilema on using a particular angle or  another, she wasn't entirely sure which way to go. 

Both Maurie and Little Miss Mischief, who had wedged her way in between us some time earlier in the night slept through the whispered discussions.

"Oh, now that you're awake, would you like a cup of tea?" she whispers, which I know really means, "I am in dire need of your help and since you're awake now, could you make me a cup of tea too?"

The tea making part I'll go with in a flash. 

Its not that I am predantic and must have my tea a certain precise way, my daughter, as biased as I am about all things Zip, her tea making skills are legendary, actually they precede her where ever she goes. Even natives deep in the Peruvian jungle, not yet discovered by mankind, know she makes the worst tea in the world. 

Its all worth it in the end. Throughout the week models have come and gone for their fitting, discussions with the photographer, the make up artist etc. Yet again, as we do every project, we congregate around the island bench in the kitchen or outside to eat and gaggle over dinner, the very large dining table is covered with fabric, design drawings, patterns, pins, boning and other strange looking implements.

The OH&S of this house is, shoes worn at all times, there's a sewer in residence, pins are rampant and abundant everywhere as some of us are painfully aware.

Saturday 6am, she's been awake for more than 36 hours already, there's a 21st party to attend later that evening, plus an almost full day on location; 2 outfits are yet to be finished'  Of course one of these outfits had to be most complex of all; The Cage

7am, time is ticking away and we are in full swing of a frustrated and heated debate on the best way to construct The Cage. I say this way, she says nay. The baby next door is now awake.

Finally she gets it, and we start the way I suggest. 

I always say to her "what starts well will always end well, its just the roller coaster in the middle that you have to ride through".

Saturday, 8.15am its all finished, and the crew hasn't even arrived yet. Zip flies into the shower while I hop up on the kitchen bench, cross my legs and lean back on the pylon to have a micro sleep or few.

I have to get ready for my Saturday art class.

Throughout the rest of the morning she sends me picture messages of the some parts of the shoot.

Most of the class know what is going on, so the phone gets handed around as the photo's drop into my message inbox. The picture quality of the new phones are amazing.

I love this age of technology, don't understand most of it, but I like it. Even if I am having more than a fair share of frustration trying to place photo's on this blog.......argh. Hey, I was around before ATM cards were invented.

One of the other students recognises Ashley from Home & Away. To us, Ashley is Ashley herself,  we often forget she is an actress.

Gregory, who is very young for his age, exclaims "It looks just like a Mad Hatter's Tea party of sorts".

I tell him its the theme of the shoot, he wants to know which one is Alice. 

Um.

I know I can't explain anything to Gregory, he doesn't understand metaphors or analogies, so I just say "I'm not sure". With his easel parked next to mine, he spends the rest of the class time,  explaining to me that the girl with the rainbow corset is likely to be Alice, it confuses him because she isn't wearing an apron, but it must be Alice as she is the only girl there with long wavy blonde hair.

Gregory might be a simple man older than me, but I do wish I had his remarkable talent. 

My girl 'Zip'

Like I said, "What starts well, ends well......"

Ah, that's were my chairs went to!.

Shops have what online stores don't - Retail Therapy!!

Bubba Moe Slings like many other companies are known as a manufacturing wholesaler/retailer. We supply to the general public via our website, then to stores as a wholesaler.
In this era, a business without a website could be viewed with some suspicion as not being bone fide. Any retailable consumer product should be supported by a website.
For retailers, 99.9% of products sold, are researched online previously by the consumer. When a customer comes through the door, its up to the salesperson to sell the customer the product they need or want. When a customer walks in the door they mostly do so voluntarily, I have yet to experience where a salesperson has dragged me off the street into their store and forced me to buy something before I am allowed to leave.

There are many reasons why people walk in and a lot of reasons why they walk out, leaving empty handed and the shop's till just as empty.

Retailers hate wholesalers that have their own website because it detracts business from them. I can't entirely disagree with that, though it does attract business for them in the same token.
Most retailers will challenge that the wholesaler is undercutting their prices. I agree that a hefty amount of wholesalers do, yet those who do will ultimately sign their own demise, as it also increases consumer suspicion.
Why should a retailer stock an item which is priced  20-30% lower by the wholesaler, (with exception for reason),  retailers cannot compete and will seek to stock items that don't come with a price battle. Unfortunately popular brands come can come with a price battle, unknown brands come with a sales battle. Little do most retailers know that they themselves hold a wild card. A wild card that can actually win them the battle.
Many retailers do suffer 'reconaissiance traps', where the customer comes into the store seeking as much information as possible, only to leave the store and purchase online. The sales person has spent a considerable amount of time and energy, completely educating the customer only to have another business benefit from that exercise, when that customer decides to leave the store to purchase 'online' elsewhere. Why do these customers walk out?

I'll tell you why I walk out
1) Not satisfied with information given
2) Want the product but not the colours available in the store at the time
3) Not happy with the service or general atmosphere
4) Need to process the information given a little further.
5) Not quite the right time to purchase, still need information
With options 1 to 3, it will be rare that I return to purchase that product, with number 4 & 5, I more than likely will return to purchase.
It boils down to one little but powerful human aspect- trust.

Very rarely will I make a decision purely based on price, unless it's extreme. Convenience will always outrank price. I will not travel 50 km to save $5, if it costs me $20 in petrol and $15 in tolls, nor will I order it online if it takes 2 weeks and a certain amount of uncertainty till it actually arrives just to save a buck or two.
If it's in the shop there and then, the salesperson is an expert, making me comfortable that the product will live up to my needs & expectations, I will feel more than 'special' walking out with it in a nice store bag on my way to a cafe for a conclusional Chai Latte while sporting a grin closer to a Cheshire cat.
That's what I call Retail Therapy.

I simply love a dose of Retail Therapy! its a hoot, its fun and its a complete experience. I work hard for my income and who doesn't, so I like my money to work hard for me. I want to be wooed, I want that feel good uplifting feeling that comes with the touchy feely of that freshly purchased product. I have it in my hot little hands and its mine.

The last time I bought something on line, it went something like this.
Pyjama clad, 5am cup of instant coffee by my side, 14 google pages with many repeated repeats of businesses I didn't care to visit, lots of image checks (which by the way, were woeful & tiny, causing eye strain), I made my purchase.
Whipped out the credit card, paid and was left with an email that said "Thank you for your order" and a headache bigger than Ben Hur. That's it! That's all I get, nix, nothing, nil.
I sat there drumming my fingers on the desk, quietly, for all the intelligent members of the household were asleep.
I was feeling a little empty, depleted, even a little under excited, for the purpose. OK I didn't leave the house, but I also had nothing to show for it. It equated to an anticlimax without ever getting to a climax in the first place. Retail Therapy in reverse
I realised that I did get something immediate from the exercise, it was a package called 'wait'.
Wait I did.
Four weeks after the dawn purchase, when it almost became a distant memory, it twigged that it hadn't arrived yet. It twigged because my daughters birthday was approaching at lightening speed, and this purchase was for her. A few emails, a few left messages, a few more emails, a few more left messages, all with no answer what so ever.
My girl's 21st birthday had come and gone without this special purchase arriving at all. I had no excuse to offer, because I had 21 years to get ready for this special day. The word 'heel' was, I believe clearly flaming across my head and no amount of visits to The Bad Mothers website will cover the disappointment my daughter felt at its absence.


Why did I buy it online in the first place, easy, because I couldn't buy one from a shop. None of the sales assistants would offer to order one in for me either.

Breastfeeding from the Right Hand side of the brain- part 2

Women that successfully breastfeed, do so by using the Right Hand Side of the Brain, which I call RHSOB, cause it takes to long to type out. Mums do it either by intuition, by discipline or a dogged determination to make it work.
Just like drawing, people fail at drawing because they draw what their brain says, not what they actually see. Some times just by looking at the negative spaces around the object, you see the real shape of the object, weird I know, but it puts the object into real perspective. I can replicate a 'still life' composition to greater accuracy when I draw the negative shapes around the objects. It also works better when I relax and zone in on the job at hand, everything on the outer becomes a blur, sinking away into an oblivion of non existence.

Breastfeeding is similar, all else must be cast aside, yet so many mums find this hard to do.

Relaxation is the last visitor calling when the clothes are piling up in the laundry, an array of mess is scattered across the living area, dishes are precariously balanced on the kitchen bench, fighting for a place to exist. The phone is ringing again, and again. The just out of reach mobile starts and someone is knocking at the door.

Its already 3pm, still clad in pyjamas with shag hair, not caused by an actual shag. Anxiety sets in about the fast approaching 'Devil's Hour', silly name really, cause it lasts more than 4, and the unenviable task of cooking dinner, hopefully something edible, which needs to be sorted, possibly, perhaps, maybe, if luck happens to venture in and stay a while.

To add salt to the wound, everyone mum knows a mum that seems to cope with it all, still have a figure that's shows no evidence of ever having a baby, coiffured, manicured, complete with an equally pristine family & home. Actually these women don't exist, we just think they do.

A 'neatless' house is a sign that a woman has her priorities right; equally logical, there is something sinister about a spotless house where quiet children reside.

If the psychics of life isn't enough to deal with, then there's all the advice to contend with, whether its wanted or not. Women cant seem to escape it and it adds kudos to my mother's own mantra "She, who has boobs, can give advice".
Advice, is a right of passage for all mothers to part their experience on all other mothers, regardless of bra cup size;  which confusingly always is as varied and as contradictory to all other previous information given by other mothers.
If that's not enough to invoke insanity, there's the plethora of books, ebooks, magazines, websites etc, which by the way is always written by mothers.
Breastfeeding or mothering advice should never be taken seriously if its been written by a man, seriously; its not naturally ethical. Its my soapbox thought on the topic, men cannot teach women how to be better mothers, only how to be their ideal dream mothers. The absurd idea of a man telling a woman how to breastfeed and mother, is almost as obnoxious as a man coming home to say to his wife "What have you been doing all day, you could have at least done something!"

Advice overload seems to electrify the already overloaded mind, a mind that's only just recently graduated from 'placenta brain' to 'lactating brain'. No wonder the frizzy shag hair stands on end when someone suggests the answer is to relax. Humph.

Its true, the secret to all successes is to relax. A relaxed frame of mind will achieve all desired goals easily and with greater success. Previous experience in Yoga & meditation not necessary.