I need to learn and to train myself to stop fearing and resenting the birds of the air. Those helpless, hopeless common rodents with wings that belong nowhere but are found everywhere in any cityscape. They dwell and reside among our manmade glories; our grand architecture, sites of wealth and cultural complexes and in most cases, go completely unnoticed. But I notice them. I bob, duck, cringe and recoil when one comes near me. I am all too aware of the common creature, but I have no ounce of love or compassion for them. Instead I feel terror and disgust. Isn’t that the sort of attitude that Mary Poppins’ “feed the birds, tuppence a bag” aims to deal with? People’s pride and callousness?

Today I thought it would be a fabulous idea to stop by Prada, Tiffany’s, Jimmy Choo and gaze upon the beautiful collections inside Belinda. But I came out feeling no sense of fabulousness after being made all too aware that I didn’t belong inside those shops. Trawling around in head to toe Bardot sale gear and having a very bad hair day with barely an available dollar to my name; some, albeit small, amount of cultural capital by knowing each label in the Belinda collections but possessing no further fancy knowledge to appreciate the pieces for this season, having no status worthy to be gazing at Tiffany engagement rings and having to play along when the salesgirl at Jimmy Choo asked me “how I was liking my bag” (the one I purchased from a dimly lit stall inside a stuffy warehouse turned market in Green Hills, Manila), I had saw no choice but to sit in Hyde Park, and duck, bob, cringe and recoil beside the birds.

This was the only stop that didn’t require me spending money I don’t have. So perhaps this is really where I belong. Here in the cold, open air on a park bench staring up at St Mary’s Cathedral. Viva La Vida. We all fall. But it’s better to know that and choose to fall on your knees than have the harsh realities of life push you down.  Here, with nothing to lose, there is much more to gain. When we are empty, we can be filled.

Tonight was a celebration of style and what makes Sydney its own. 

Sometimes we need to be reminded of how these things are meant to be appreciated and enjoyed.

Alex Perry unleashes his biggest collection ever with the ‘Arabian Princess’ show for Spring/Summer 2010-11.

Beads and embellishments, tulle upon tulle, 1300 front row seats, a 130m catwalk…

…And I was there to see the innerworkings backstage and gaze in and amongst editors. 

Not bad for a first time!

Many thanks to my darling Miss Mary for having my back. I have to say the classiest part of our night was rushing out and heading to Mickey D’s for some serious, much-needed burger scoffage. We keep it real like that.