Inside the plastic bag: 100 shades of wrong

My Dad mightn't like me to say this, but he's a hoarder. It's the only explanation for why amazing and embarrassing things keep emerging from his shed. Around six months ago, it was The Suitcase - an old, vinyl, buckled suitcase full of - well, you can read about it here.

Last week, Sister C and I found a plastic bag on the parental patio. Dad had no idea what it was. He'd dragged it out of the shed and it was lying around looking for a home. We rifled through it, shrieking with laughter at what we found. "You simply have to blog about this?" she said, between fits of hysteria. My response? No way.

That night, in the Fibro kitchen, I showed The Builder what we'd found. He has these fantastic laugh lines around his eyes, that crinkle up when he's amused, making his eyes sparkle. Those laugh lines were craters as I took him through our discoveries, step by step.

The next day, I was reading Bern Morley's very funny blog So Now What? She's got a fantastic giveaway going on, where you can win some tummy-tucking, thigh-shrinking, butt-lifting jeans - all you have to do is answer a simple question and she swears these jeans will change your life. The question? What was your biggest fashion mistake? The look you thought was rocking but was, in hindsight, 100 shades of wrong. I answered her question honestly - silver jumpsuit, green pants suit... actually, I have 100 looks that would fit that criteria. Other commenters are going further, sending in pictures, and if you don't laugh at these, you are not human.

But the blog post got me thinking. About the plastic bag. And its contents.

A little known fact about the publishing world is that editorial assistants and cadet journalists are often called upon to step above and beyond the call of duty. From behind their desks to in front of the cameras. From the ages of 19-23, I worked for a publishing company that published a lot of blokey mags. Fishing, golfing, cars, boats, heavy metal, building, computers, electronics... Available females were often dragged in to be models. It is my only excuse for this:

And this:

And even this:

From a 1991 issue of the short-lived (and sadly unlamented) Australian Woman Golfer magazine. And these are some of the best shots. I think they went out of their way to make me look 40. Actually, I think I actually look younger now. You can see why The Builder was in hysterics. Though, as I told him, not every man can say that he's married to a former model.

Feel free to laugh (I am) and then pop over to Bern's blog and enter the giveaway (you have until Sunday). I am looking forward to reading (and possibly seeing) all your worst fashion moments. Though I suspect that the golf stick as accessory may be one of fashion's biggest crimes...



{images: Kiosk Hello + Australian Woman Golfer/Phil Aynsley (lovely man, I don't blame him at all)}