There was a time when I enjoyed the actual count part of the Brownlow medal count. This was when I was younger and completely engrossed in all things sport. Now as a mature woman of a certain age, I do still appreciate the drama of a close count, although the hideous lengthy pauses that Andrew Demetriou injects into the count remind me of Keanu Reeves' overacting (sorry, Keanu, you know I love you!) "Geelong, 3 votes, J ......
Bartel".
btw, congratulations to Geelong's Jimmy (or is that now James) Bartel.
Anyway, now I enjoy the red carpet arrivals beforehand and especially enjoy the Tuesday morning newspaper websites for a complete view of the best and worst of couture.
While the
Now before reviewing the colour and style 
of the frocks, I feel the need to make a comment about the pretty young things that drape the arm of a footballer. The excess use of spray tan (I do hope it's not a solarium tan), peroxide and silicone does tend to make the young women on the carpet blend in together. A few looked like they hadn't eaten in weeks to fit into their frocks and also looked ill as a result. Please, young women of our future, trust yourself and what you like, not what a man, a magazine or the media tell you!! (here endeth today's lesson) 
Black was an ever popular stalwart, and while totally respectable at a black tie event, the preponderance of black made only the most stunningly good (or bad) of black dresses stand out.
Cream seems to be an early leader in the spring fashion stakes in Melbourne. I must keep an eye out for similar trends as the Spring Racing Carnival commences.
However, this year, I was pleasantly surprised by the bold (far from brazen) use of colour and variable hemlines.
And the winner? How can I go past Susie Koutafides - a mother of 2 has no right to look that good in a skimpy cream number, and perfectly sets off the pecs and shoulders on her arm (that's them at the right of the photo)
(photos courtesy of Herald Sun)
1 comment:
I completely missed this year's arrivals, as we have been in NSW, and they are currently obsessed with how Manly is going to slaughter Melbourne at 'their' Grand Final tomorrow night. In fact, we'd forgotten that this slice of mesmerising television was on last Monday night, until we caught a late night news bulletin.
Personally, I find the highlight is counting the few number of times they manage to pronounce 'Essendon' correctly - that, and watching the players attempt to look humble!
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