Smells Like Teen Heart Throb

It was the Summer of 2005 and I’d somehow managed to sneak over a brawny touch footy player two grades above me. He was incredibly alluring for a 16 year old boy with tanned skin, blue eyes and muscles as mighty as the padded bra hidden underneath my Supre tee. 

Above all things he had the moves and by moves I mean he knew how to say the right things over msn chat and even how to compliment my mother on her packet made tea cake. 

He was also the first boy I’d discovered in Noosa that wore more than just the scent of salt water and zinc cream. Somehow, somewhere he’d gotten his hands on some cologne which had this bewildering, memorising effect on me to say the least. 

I distinctly remember him sitting there, opposite me, leaning down to wrestle with my dog, Gidget who seemed equally besotted at his feet. With every full rotation of the free standing fan, his masculine scent would blow over to me. 

PHWOAR! 

After that we went steady for about a week then when teenage angst got the best of us we broke up outside the canteen. I made a point of asking him one last thing outside the tuckshop before I removed him from my Myspace top 3...

“What aftershave do you wear anyway?” - me

“Armani Aqua De Gio.” And the rest is history.

It's incredible how powerful a scent can be! Now whenever I catch a whiff of someone wearing Aqua De Gio in the street I secretly go weak in the knees.

Now let's cut the merde. If you're a kitten for man smell like me you MUST get yours mitts on a Oceanique Classic Soy Candle by Circa Home.

It's my latest discovery. Not only is it soy and natural and boudoir friendly but it's cheap! Move over Glass House you can get one of these babies for only $29.95.

Put it on your Sunday shopping list along with your fresh flowers and Elle magazine. 

If you don't believe that it smells like a hot guy check out the reviews

THIS IS NOT A PAID PROMOTION. In fact Circa Home I'm taking my hat off to you for providing me with a cheaper alternative to a real boyfriend, more sustainable too (lead-free cotton wicks).

"Our fragrances have a warm sentimentality that evokes moments from the past and creates memories for the future..."

^^^ One statement your coconut & lime candle can't make. 16 year-old touch footy boy meets future hubby, now THAT's a scent worth burning.

P x

MAN MUSINGS

I was going to call this new segment Dick Diaries or Penis Ponderings but considering 9/10 p*rn searches now redirect to HOB thanks to Google keywords I decided to stick with something a little more high brow. 

Introducing Man Musings: An Honest Girl's Opinion

To kick things off let’s reflect on the festive season, the men that have contacted you during this time and the role they want to play in your future.

Pour yourself a glass of pinot noir or if you prefer something brown like my friend Don Draper here ...and let us begin.

*

I think there’s something to be said about the man who contacts you on Christmas, New Years Eve or the the very beginning of the new year.

Think about it…Christmas is about family, NYE is about finality and the beginning of January typically represents new beginnings. 

Would you contact your ex on any of these occasions? Ok let me rephrase that. Would you contact your ex on any of these occasions if alcohol wasn’t a factor?

My answer would be no and I’m a woman who loves to divulge the past. Why wouldn’t I? Because the new me doesn’t have time to play games with old flames. 

But it must mean something if a man goes out of his way to reconnect with you during this rather personal period.

It doesn't have to be on your doorstep with cards and a portable music player but a simple text message on NYE can mean more than you think.

He totally fucking loves her right!?

Ok. It might not be wedding bells just yet but I find it hard to believe that a man who chooses to reconnect on New Years Day just wants to say "hey".

And Jane isn't the only one...

Mr R and I hadn't spoken in months and this text message had totally taken me by surprise. For a man who didn't often communicate his feelings or reach out to me first, this gesture really was a Christmas miracle.

Now lady it’s time for you to give it a go. 

Who are the men that have contacted you in the last 2 weeks? (the time frame which covers the last 3 big events) 

Write them down if you’re really popular.

Now…

Who do you have left? for your sake I'm praying that it starts with 'Charlie' and ends with 'Hunnam'.

Reflection - Does this mean he's into me?

Whether we like it or not, when a man contacts us first it's hard not to ask ourselves the age old question "Is he into me?" or in my case "Is he still into me?".

After the in depth analysis above I think it's safe to say that if a man has contacted you during the slicing of the Xmas ham, as the ball dropped or at the beginning of a new year where last years lovers are often put to rest along with the mistletoe that he's pretty bloody into you.

And so the questions remains, although he may be keen as a bean to see you in 2015, do you want to give him a role in the next chapter of your life?

On NYE I pondered whether or not I should reply. Another year with a jet setting, hot, intelligent Mr R in my life?

Surely Mr P.S wouldn't mind...

New Year, New 'Diet' Mantra!

On January 1st all of the weekly glossy's are released with one common theme…

“Summer Detox” -Woman’s Weekly

“Half Their Size” -Who Magazine

“21 Day Bikini Body Plan” -Women’s Health

“Real Body Revolution” -OK Magazine

And every year I pick up a few copies along with a box of pain killers and a bottle of sparkling water to ease the pain of the notorious NYE hangover. 

For the next couple of days (once I even lasted a week) I follow the bikini body meal plan in the back of the mag, with the exception of lattes, left over candy canes and the occasional alcoholic beverage which is usually a gin & tonic – totes low in calories!

And then somewhere between Friday and Sunday my determination lapses and my little glossy bibles of motivation become merely placemats for my gin & tonic induced buttered chicken feasts. 

By mid January I’m saying “Who does a detox during silly season anyway!?” with a burrito in one hand and a Corona in the other.

“I’ll start February.”

When it comes to eating well and getting back into shape like most 20 something girls I am my own worse enemy.

I see pictures of Victorias Secret models and make a green juice then when quotes like ‘You only life once' roll up on my Instagram feed I’m the first person to eat a whole tub of ice cream.

But this year I’ve  got something that I hadn’t previously…The paleo diet.

I don't eat paleo because all the glossy mags are raving about it.

I don't eat paleo because I once dated a guy who was famous for it (come on Paige that claim to fame is getting old).

I eat paleo because recently I've discovered that you can lose weight and feel satisfied.

I’ve been paleo for the last 9 months now with the occasional faileo (that hiatus in Paris with the bread sticks and the fromages). 

Through trial and error I’ve discovered what works:

• Lean meats
• Brusel sprouts cooked the tasty way
• Clean chocolate
• And organic bacon.

And what doesn’t:

• Too much sweet potato (+2kg)
• Too much quinoa (hello 7 month pregnant belly)
• And bacon every day.

So now in 2015 the real task...

• Sticking to a paleo diet
• Exercising often
• Working a full time job
• And seeing real results.

If Jessica Beil and Megan fox can do it then so can I! If you want to join me in what I believe to be the easiest 'diet' on the planet well you can read up on Paleo here.

Let’s hit the new year head on together. Stay tuned for my 5 best places to eat paleo for cheap in Sydney.

Now here is some fitspiration in the form of Megan fox and Jessica Beil, bodies courtesy of Paleo and photos courtesy of Pinterest...

* drools and throws burrito on the ground *

Let's do this!

DIRTHOUSE FOR SALE

I've tried to write this post many times to no avail...

So for a moment I need you to pretend I'm that guy off Love Actually, standing at the door to your Dirthouse with picture cards and music.

Are you ready my twinkly eyed Keira Knightley? Let's go.

2014

Shhh Say it’s carol singers…

Remember Noosa boy? Life Lesson No. 1 You can indeed find Mc Dreamy in the small town you grew up in and Life Lesson No. 2 Men should never shave their chests.

The Dirthouse Queens finally visited Noosa to get 'loosa' and pose under my mother's Bali inspired cabana that every second woman in Noosa has. "Smile Sweeeeetiessss". 

Anddd Back to the city…

Ms P short for Ms Protractor moves into the Dirthouse. Like a bunch of 12 year old boys we instantly fall for her long blonde locks and stealth drunken antics.  

I manage to lose my only form of photo ID and as a result am forced to spend Valentines Day alone when my ex boyfriend cancels on me. HOB Trivia: Who’s more pathetic him or me? Him, him, him!

From part time blogger to full time #girlboss, I take on my first legit full time job at saucy lingerie brand, Maple HQ.

Ms L & Ms B announced their departure from the Dirthouse to travel around the world.

And I have small breakdown.

Discover that the Shangri-La solves all of life’s problems except for financial ones. 

POOF! 'The delicate Art of Dragoning a Man' was born

More life lessons of a career gal kind. Life Lesson No. 3 It's easy to lose 3 kgs when you first start a full time job & Life Lesson No. 4 It's Much easier to gain 5 kgs when you get comfortable in a full time job.

Spend close to a week's rent on a trendy juice cleanse...learn the hard way that 'Green 3' is code for mower grass clippings and purified dissatisfaction.

Revert back to drinking cocktails and eating multiple bar snacks.

Meet Mr P.S and inner monologue begins in my head “He’s so dangerous yet so delicious” “Let’s start planning your future with this man”.

See picture of the Dirthouse Queens in Paris, which makes me want to slide down the wall crying.

Roof falls in at the Dirthouse and Landlord puts half a pool fence across my balcony and DO NOT ENTER sign.

Decide instantly that this will not deter me.

Psycho killer breaks into the Dirthouse and threatens to kill us all (true story). Move out the next day.

Find a new house, move everything onto the street and watch people sift through our history. Have a quarter life crisis all in the span of 1 week. 

Flee the country on a direct flight to London.

Exhaust 10 years worth of annual leave trying to be Gary Pepper Girl or Tullula Vintage. 

Fail miserably and block the toilet in Saint Germain Des Pres with small yet powerful tampon. 

Somewhere between the Love Lock Bridge & the Louvre, Ms P sends me an email which reads “Dirthouse up for sale, pic of your room on the sign out the front.”

Cry in the line for the public toilets.

Short Italian getaway interlude…

Fly 24 hours back to Australia with broken TV and small baby next to me. Consider slipping quietly out the emergency exit. Remember that I still have 2 out of 4 things every girl wants in the city: a career & a handsome lover. But what is life without A Dirthouse and your Queens? 

We all arrive back in Sydney  at the same time and reunite in the Dirthouse one last time to sign the bond release form. And drink lots of cheap champagne.

Realise that after 3 years, a dozen dating horror stories between us, countless memories and 1 blog, that this is the end.

Spend the first night in my new, freshly painted secure apartment with Ms P. 

Have a Heaven on Bourke identity crisis and ask myself the question: If it’s not a food blog, fashion blog or an I’ve got a hot bod blog then what is it?

Well my dear reader...

It's a i'm-learning-how-to-do-this-thing-called-life blog with a touch of please-don't-let-this-be-another-bad-date blog and a whole lot of how-do-I-make-a-career-for-myself without the turning-into-a-bitch-and-forgetting-about-the-people-who-really-matter. 

Yes it's a work in progress but show me one 20-something gal in Sydney who isn't.

2014, I couldn't have done it without the mysterious Mr. P.S,

My magnificent muses...

And of course you.

What's on the menu for 2015? Who knows.

But universe if you can hear me, I'd like to put in a simple request for a web developer, an idea that will make me a million dollars and some more chest hair for the men of Australia.

I'd also like to lose 5 kg...for real this time.

Here's to the next chapter, whatever it may hold...

Paige xx

Bellissima!

Don’t get me wrong holidays are great, but they’re not real.

What’s real is the money you spend, the time you waste getting lost on the Metro and the handsome man back in Sydney who is or is not waiting for your return.

Not to mention the life back in Surry Hills. Does it still exist? Of course it does. But I’d be a fool to believe that it isn’t more than a little bit fractured due to my time in lieu.

There’s the slightly too ambitious Maple girl who has been covering my role, no doubt she’s blitzed it by churning out not one but two columns a week.

Are they witty? Not really but in a rapidly expanding business does anyone notice a few absent adjectives.

Maybe the booming and spectacularly glamorous lingerie industry isn’t my thing anyway. Since being in Paris I’ve found that my thing is indeed bread. 

Croissants eaten at 8 am, ham and cheese baguettes and tiny toasts best served with cured meats, little fish and cream. Cream is also my thing. Fancy that.

Anyway enough of this realness. For the next 48 hours I’m in the floating city of love, Venice. 

Time to find a selfie stick, some nice light and a pizza to sink my teeth into.

My life is but a fabulous European vacay. Bellissima! 

How very Versace of this man to smoke a cigarette while holding his wife's handbag as she strays off into one of the many Italian boutiques to find another.

Unfortunately the 7 years of Italian I did in primary school did not prepare me for ordering Italian cuisine. Apparently a Capricciosa pizza is different to a Caipiroska pizza. In fact for all of you wine snobs out there you'll know perfectly well that a Caipiroska isn't a pizza at all, it's a highly alcoholic Brazilian cocktail. Well waiter you can stop laughing at me and bring over two of each!

In all honesty Venice gave me the heady dose of escapism that I needed. I let the city's maze like streets lead me to flee markets, hidden cathedrals and a cute Italian boys selling knock off Prada bags.

Maybe that's a little too far away from real for me. 

And so that concludes my time in Europe. 

Sure there are many things I haven't told you about my time abroad but I have a feeling that perfect pictures and Prada handbags aren't what you come to Heaven on Bourke to see. 

So, get ready!

We will resume our regular scheduled programs of girls, filth and dating in Sydney in 5...

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