frankie Magazine May - June 2016

frankie Magazine is an Australian bi-monthly with a difference. A niche-style title with mainstream appeal – filled with fashion, art, craft, music, cuteness and real-life inspiration – frankie is dedicated to uncovering the newest trends, celebrating the latest creative talents and delivering sharp, honest, laugh-out-loud stories their readers can relate to.

Nextmedia Pty Ltd
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in this issue

1 min
my mum has a friend called daphne, and she’s one of the most extraordinary people i know.

She’s in her 80s now and has been working since the age of 12, because that’s what little girls did back in the day – went off to earn an income for the family. Growing up, Daphne wanted to be a brain surgeon, but she became a seamstress instead, and is pretty much the living embodiment of make do and mend. Over the years she’s stitched school uniforms, kids’ clothes and stage costumes. But these days the only new commissions she takes on are wedding gowns, and she’s made hundreds, all documented in a photo album full of happy brides-to-be. The ones I like best are the cheapest – for women who’ve come to Daphne with $150 in their hand and a page ripped from a magazine and asked if she…

3 min
dear frankie

LETTERS@FRANKIE.COM.AU Dear frankie, Just last night I exclaimed over the time after surfacing from my supernatural search of the web – a favourite pastime when I feel particularly anxious or need something to occupy my time (at that point I was fleeing from the prospects of today’s early morning maths lecture) – and ultimately had to drag myself away from the screen long past the witching hour. So you can imagine just how creepy it was to crack open your colourful cover this afternoon, only to discover Sinead Stubbins’s “Spirited Away”. I know, spooky right? Serendipitous? Perhaps it’s a sign that you’ve found followers past the funeral parlour. Or maybe this is a nifty little coincidence? If it’s all the same, I think I’ll stick with the former – it’s more…

17 min
frank bits

STILL LIFE Inspired by Judy Chicago’s iconic feminist art installation The Dinner Party – a triangular table with settings for 39 mythical and famous historical women – the latest collection from NZ fashion duo twenty-seven names is all about the ladies. Dedicated to women who make art and music and TV and spark awesomeness in others, it’s full of comfy and cute and kind-of-understated pieces to don while fighting the good fight. Pop past twentysevennames.co.nz if you’d like to see more. OUCH FLOWER If you are in need of a touch of magnificence around your bosomy areas, you may want to peruse the collected works of Ouch Flower, aka Melbourne maker Philippa Taylor. Her new Seed Bead collection is all a bit Art-Deco-goes-to-Papua-New-Guinea and we like it very much. ouchflower.bigcartel.com CLUB PETANQUE Club Petanque is…

3 min
i love marok & roll

These are the queens – as they like to call themselves – of the marokmovement in Botswana. Marokis plural for ‘rockers’ in Setswana; it’s not a real Setswana word, but rather ‘setswanified’ from English. Basically, they’re a subculture made up predominantly of black Setswana-speaking heavy metal fans. I first met the marok in 2011 at a music festival in Gaborone, but at that time I only really met the men. Then in 2014 I was invited to a friend’s wedding – the day after the ceremony her family (who happen to include the forefathers of classic ’70s rock in Botswana) invited us to a show to watch their son’s band, Skinflint. This time around there were noticeably more females. Two ladies approached me out of the blue and sparked a convo,…

3 min
careless whisker

I’m a wog, and this means I grow hair from many locations on my face and body, and my pubes can wrap around the Earth. It’s the price I pay for being able to make my own gnocchi. And sure, once upon a time, I didn’t care for this balance sheet. “I’m sorry,” Mum told me, “but you have a moustache and you need to do something about it.” I did what I usually do in situations where I have no control: threatened to kill everyone and blamed my parents. “Well,” Mum said, “I don’t have a moustache…” Then she laughed and ran away. This was back in my early 20s when I really gave a shit about what I looked like, which at that point was a grungy hooker with…

3 min
the truth is out there

My belief in many (most) so-called conspiracy theories has been cause for concern among those who love me. While people are happy to imagine an apocalyptic world – their apocalypse outfit, how good they’ll look wielding an Uzi, whether the zombies will be fast-moving or slow, which store they would raid first – they aren’t so happy to hear their kin riff mental on theories of an impending dark future and the shadowy figures that are blindly leading us towards it. My family has learnt ways to defuse these conversations, usually by distracting me with violence or fire. It’s more difficult with strangers – I’m less likely to notice the subtle social cues indicating that I have gone too far until, well, I’ve really gone too far. As I wax lyrical…