A lace dress for a Sunday.

I got this beige lace dress while I was staying in Orewa, Auckland, when I was working for Treaty2U in 2009. I stayed by myself in the most amazing apartment, high in the sky, overlooking the sea. It's the only 'sky scraper' in Orewa, it had an infinity pool and on the bottom floor it had a dress store. I got the dress for $100 reduced from shitloads.

When I was there I wrote this poem while sitting in a cafe listening to "ladies that lunch" and "mutton dressed as lamb" speak loudly while I ate my breakfast. It's not a piece of writing that I'm that proud of but it's part of the story. 

 

Or re wah... roll your r.

What do you do then?

Maori.

She likes clothes this one.

Is it brown?

Very. But it’s interesting.

They’re too busy, too old.

It’s nice upstairs isn’t it?

Your wearing cheeky briefs for fucks sake and you still have the cheek to look at me.

Oh ree wa. 

When I think of Orewa I think of rich white people, Don Brash having mud thrown at him & spending days walking alone on the beach feeling for the first time like an adult 

in total control of my world.

The dress is a bit small for me now, it's boned and it kinda cuts in and I find it washes me out. 

I got incredibly bored at the apartment at night and took some photos of myself in my (what was then) new dress.