Sarahs Style Emporium

Dear ladies, girls, women, who read this blog (note: anyone I work with, am related to or who possesses male genes might like to head somewhere else for a few minutes).

This is a blog about bras (and all the boys who kept reading just left).

I realise this is a topic not usually attempted here (or on many blogs for that matter) and I guess that's because it seems like a bit of a taboo. But I am here to tell you that bras - underwear in general - is essentially the building block of a decent outfit and those bits of lycra and cotton are just as important as your accessories.

Here is what I know about bras.

They are a pain in the butt. Or, rather, the boobs. Let's face it - they are painful and annoying and expensive. They pinch, twist, get in the way, can ruin a neckline and rob us of a decent chunk of disposable income that could be spent on shoes. Much like tampons, they are painfully necessary.

But, having said this, I have a few bra stories to tell from recent weeks that I hope will enlighten you.

Berlei Ambassador Kate Ceberano

I recently had a birthday - a shocking twenty eight years old (pause for the horror). But, the shock to more of my girlfriends (following a hilarious discussion around the five dates in five weeks concept) was that I didn't own a push up bra. Oh yes. Terrible isn't it!

Now, this was not an intentional error. I didn't realise there was some kind of push up bra sisterhood that I hadn't been informed about; I'm a rather naturally endowed lass who has never wanted for any extra oomph. Until I went for a little birthday shopping trip (with some birthday dollars from Nana who will probably be horrified I bought lingere instead of books).

My friendly Myer assistant poked and prodded and measured and flitted back and forth between the sales floor and my change room until I felt like I had tried on every bra in the store. And you know what? I still didn't think I need a push up bra. But I bought some pretty lacy things and was properly fitted for a day to day bra that was comfy and practical. Cause that's what I'm all about - the practical (probably also why I don't have a date).

The Berlei Barely There. Available in 7 colours, RRP $59.95

Until a little invitation arrived in my inbox from the Berlei bra bar. They would be setting up shop at LMFF and offered fittings and champagne. Of course I said yes.

I learnt that you are supposed to get fitted (PROPERLY) for a bra every six months. I learnt that having a bra that doesn't fit properly can do horrible things to your back, neck and posture. I learnt that a bra should most often be done up on the middle clasp. I also discovered the most comfy and flattering bra I have ever worn.

The Berlei Barely There is everything it promises and more - and for this well endowed lass, just the right amount of tee shirt smoothness coupled with 'oomph'. I'm not about to photograph my chest and post it here for you to see (sorry for the boys who kept reading) but I assure you, I recommend this bra and then some. I'm going back to get it in all the colours.

And just so you know I am practically an authority on bras, I'm going to reveal my size. I can tell you I can't buy bras at Kmart and finding something with with right balance of support and sexy (I am only 28 after all!) is hard when you move past a C cup. I was officially fitted as a 10E. Yep, E. I bet you thought you were two cup sizes less than you were too. Go get fitted!!

This article first appeared for Onya Magazine

I often read dating stories in magazines and wonder how many of them are made up. Horror dating stories, coupled with the ‘once in a million years’ fairytales are enough to make any self-respecting girl choose a life of singledom, and for a cynical girl like me? Why would I want to even try?

This Five in Five deal was supposed to ‘break me’, in a sense, and prove that my cynicism wasn’t warranted. That my previous experiences (usually falling into the horror category) were bad timing, bad luck or just those ‘once in a million years’ examples.

Halfway through this social experiment in dating, I don’t feel like I have been swayed to a life of romance and happiness. A number of events have led me to believe that my cynicism is warranted and that without it, I may very well end up ‘in a freezer’ (according to my very, very cynical friend).

This is a special edition column about Ryan Gosling. If you read my column last week, you will know that just over week ago (while I was still open minded), my friend Lola had given my phone number to a guy at a BBQ by the Yarra and that after a shaky start, many text messages had been exchanged and we had plans to catch up for a drink this week.

All sounding okay so far, right?

The day of the date rolled around. While we had made plans to meet at his place for a drink (don’t judge me yet!), I did have my reservations – where was the effort? The tradition? Any semblance of romance?

Now, I’m a modern day girl who is prepared to go to a guy (three whole suburbs over!), however my better judgement eventually got the better of me and the going to the house of someone I didn’t know seemed like a not very bright thing to do (and the very, very cynical friend made the freezer comment).
I requested a change of venue, being completely honest about the fact that I didn’t know Ryan and it really wasn’t a smart thing for a girl to do, to go to the house of a man she didn’t know.

And he understood – that’s fine – he said, before confessing that in the interests of full disclosure (and since I was being honest), he wasn’t actually the guy my friend had given my phone number to the week before. He had been at the same event, yes, but essentially he was the friend of a friend of the actual phone number recipient.

Pause for reaction.

Yep, no longer are girls being openly rejected by someone they have got up the guts to talk to (and yes, I realise I didn’t do the talking at the time, but I was there at least) but they are being bandied about among friends – possibly some kind of amusing yet cruel joke among the males of the world.
So, Ryan Gosling’s ‘friend of a friend’ – let’s call him Steve Carrell (this has a bit of the Crazy Stupid Love thing going on), asked if I still wanted to go for a drink. Last chance to back out, he said.

While I did feel a little out of my comfort zone – ok, a lot – I had to figure, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and so with a pub selected (no way was I doing a house visit now!), I went out for a drink in the interests of Five in Five in mind.

It would seem that this would make an excellent ‘how I met your mother’ story, the kind of tale you tell your grandkids about the quirks and calamities of the dating game. I had a lovely night out with Steve, however I don’t think this will be a story we will be telling anyone in years to come.

Three dates down (speed dating totally counts as a date night), two to go. Stay tuned.

To support Sarah, and raise funds for Concern Australia, visit her fundraising page here.

This article first appeared for Onya Magazine.

How quickly time flies when you are having fun. Or when you are not.

On Tuesday, it was St Valentine’s Day – the traditional day when lovers share with each other their undying passion and desire to spend the rest of their lives together.

I just heated up a microwave meal for one.

But all is not lost, because after much soul searching – well, actually, not much – I am finding that I am quite enjoying the Five in Five concept and the way it is actually expanding my horizons and introducing me to new people. It feels okay to take a risk, to jump in the deep end or take a leap of faith. Who knows what might happen? Perhaps next year I’ll have someone to share my microwave dinner with.

Unfortunately though, in terms of dates, I don’t have too much new information to share with you. Officially, I haven’t been on another date, however, I have had much interaction and the prospects are definitely there.  Come to think of it – perhaps I do have a bit to share.

One of the best parts about the Five in Five concept is that is provides a talking point, not only with those people you have just met, but also with those whom you spend a lot of time with. It seems everyone knows someone single once you start chatting about it; all you need is a conversation starter.

While chatting with the people you know is a great – and easy – start, finding ones you don’t is a little harder. However, if you have a confident friend, she (or he) is the perfect wingman. For example, last weekend while crashing a friends barbeque by the Yarra on a Sunday morning, my confident friend, let’s call her Lola, decided to randomly approach the guys at the BBQ pit next to us.

A simple smile and a handwritten phone number later, Miss Lola and I were giggling like we were in high school. And, after a minor false start (boys who have been drinking all day can be excused) a date was set and a string of text messages with Ryan Gosling followed. Stay tuned for the date.

Meanwhile, the power of Twitter saw me set up a lunch date and I was actually feeling pretty good about the Five in Five deal. While the date with Kevin Rudd didn’t go ahead (the guy cancelled but he had good reason – massive respect to Kev for giving me the truth straight up) I hit Valentine’s Day with a massive case of the singles.

The speed-dating event I had so been looking forward to seemed like a pain the butt: time when I could be reading Vogue, eating Thai or simply having an early night. The persistence of a certain barman and friends (yes, Lola was there) encouraged me to come out and I headed to the event despite my own reluctance.

And this is what I learnt. I love meeting new people. It doesn’t matter where or how, I just love new people. And if it so happens that I am in a room full of them who are single? All the better for me.
If you are open to the idea of meeting new people, then almost like magic, opportunities present themselves – be it because you strike up a conversation with friends, or because your wingman decides to take matters into her own hands.

Speed dating was fun – Come back next week to read the next instalment of my Five in Five experiences to see how many matches there were, how the catch ups went and whether Ryan Gosling was as good in real life as he was via text.

NB: Brad Pitt finally got back to me. Two weeks to the day after saying he would call next week. His excuse? He did text – I didn’t get it. Should I follow up? Vote now.

To support Sarah, and raise funds for Concern Australia, visit her fundraising page here.

This article first appeared for Onya Magazine

Coming in to week two of Five in Five, I was feeling good. My date with Brad Pitt had gone well and as Carrie Bradshaw always says, ‘the only thing you need to get a date, is another date’.

But perhaps I was too early in feeling confident. The dating game seems to be a minefield of talking with little action, mind games and hundreds of years of speculation, Chinese whispers and opinions.

When you think about everything you talk about in your inner circle of friends, the ‘rules’ that apply to men and women are almost hard wired – we believe the most ridiculous things about the opposite sex because someone had an experience once and we feel this taints every man or woman with the same brush.

The book and film He’s Just Not That Into You, tried to teach us about the ‘rules’, but still gave the leading lady a happy ending – ultimately making her the exception to the rule after telling us for two hours that very rarely are we the exception to the rule.

A dating ‘textbook’ I flicked through this week (purely for research purposes) advised that women should never, ever, hit on men – apparently they like the thrill of the chase, a caveman inspired theory relating to the whole hunter/gatherer/ego/superior sex thing.

It seems the only thing women are supposed to do, is ignore men. To be fabulous all by themselves – wear that brilliant dress for you. Make sure your underwear matches – for you. Put on heels, lipstick, earrings. Shine. And don’t think about boys. Sounds easy right? This leads to the one key component essential for those on the dating circuit.

I have a very close friend who has pretty much had a boyfriend since we were 15. Even when a relationship ended, she would be out soon after, and while she would sit in a bar talking to her girlfriends, it was always her who managed to come home with phone numbers. She is the most amazing and confident person I know.

And herein lies the key to dating. Confidence. Believing you are amazing and fabulous and worthy of any boy who glances your way. Accepting a compliment with a smile and not justifying it to yourself or anyone else. Looking in the mirror and knowing you are AMAZING.

Last week, while walking to work; headphones in, sunglasses on; I was stopped by a man in his car – I assumed for directions. When he apologised for stopping me and continued on that he had to simply to tell me how beautiful he thought I was, my first reaction was to smile – then immediately wonder what was wrong with all the other girls on the street that morning – what was so special about me?

Why don’t we ever have confidence in ourselves? And to those who have it – how do the rest of us get it?

Perhaps this lack of confidence comes from the very general lack of action on the part of the male species (see how all this ties in?) because guess what? Brad Pitt never phoned (if you are thinking ‘as if Brad Pitt would phone her’, refer to last week’s article) even after saying twice (once at date end, once via text the next day) that he would.

How do you think that makes a girl feel? We wonder what we said, what we did (or didn’t do) and so on and so forth. Right back to square one where we lack the confidence to approach anyone.

Dating isn’t easy – I never (or anyone else for that matter) said it was. I truly believe that to win at any game takes work, patience, dedication and a want to succeed. But, this assumes both teams are playing by the same rules and when it comes to dating, this doesn’t seem to be the case.

My five dates in five weeks may need to stretch to six (weeks that is, not dates) but this week taught me a few lessons about the game I am playing. I’ll go into week three feeling more fabulous about me and less reliant on the actions of others.

You can raise funds for Concern Australia by contributing here.