puberty blues.

after a prolonged absence and much galavanting around europe i’m finally back and lodged firmly in reality. many apologies for my lack of input. i was drunk. seriously. for 3 months.

travel always provides me with inspiration from the strangest sources: architecture, street fashion, stupid dress ups and my own travel lifestyle. taking prominent place this trip was surf culture. i learnt to surf (like a gimp) and suddenly all i wanted to do was sit on the beach, smoke ciggies & drink diet coke whilst perving on the boys. if i could do one thing for the rest of my life, that would be it.

as i made my way through spain, the south of portugal and france living the dream i remembered the australian classic – puberty blues. a critique of the surf lifestyle of the youth of south sydney in the early 80’s the novel/film captures the submissive role of the ‘female surfer’ and both challenges and perpetuates the status quo of women in this setting. if you haven’t seen the film, do yourself a favour and get it. the 1980’s version! not the cookie cutter, home & away bullshit due to be realeased next year.

apart from my internal argument about whether i am actually perpetuating or challenging the idea of ‘surfer girl’ i only have positive thoughts about puberty blues. i mean who the fuck wouldnt want to sit on the beach, get tanned, look at boys and occasionally have a surf. take me back to 1981… i’d happily take Debbie or Sue’s place.

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and, well…. this is us.

1981 vs. 2012

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more surfer updates to come.

x j.

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