A sale and a skate

That was quite a weekend. For starters, on Friday I got drunk, then on Saturday I had a jeans sale at The Good Copy shop. It looks like Tess is worried there are no customers in this shot, but it was actually quite busy. She just wanted to run outside, to her probable death.

Quite a few of the usual suspects showed, and I was ready for them with delicious Astra lagers.

Luckily, Rosie was on hand to wrangle Tess, make entertaining quips and help people with their jeans selections while I wondered around bleary-eyed, repeatedly saying hello to people.

The shop was the perfect spot for slack-peddling and we did a steady trade all day, with lots of friendly visitors including Romy, Caroline and Jared.

There's Tess again, standing on Sez's Moroccan rug, staring wistfully outside but having a good time nonetheless.

Three wise men.

Amanda and Corey. Corey started walking on Friday! He was showing off with an interesting sidestep crabwalk thing in the shop.

Jason was pointing at a squinty Andrew

A mid-anecdotal Prior

Wendy and Ben came along for the bargains and stayed for my incredible scattered banter.

Charlie giving us his classic ThreeThousand street gallery pose

Fast forward almost 24 hours and I was having a skate with a group of handsome shirtless men in a schoolyard. This is Yared.

Ivan and a well chiselled back tail. I have to exercise more.

It was the best skate I've had in perhaps years, thanks to no scooters and the fact that I finally learned this trick - the backside smith grind. Tom was so impressed he took this lovely photo.

You want another angle? Alright then. I am incredibly proud of learning this trick and I don't care what you say. It's been haunting me for decades!

Cheers Tom

Nick Yared - an incredible skateboarder and a lovely chap.

Alex is the coolest real estate agent I know. Much cooler than Blake from The Bachelor anyway.

Lachie and I skated the ledge for what seemed like hours after everyone else stopped.

It really was a great time out there.

New stockist in the west!

Not that many shops are up to the task of stocking my clothes. Note to Self is a savage beast of a brand; actually, it's more of an untamed mare running loose upon the moors. It spends most of its days peacefully grazing on the thickets that pop up intermittently from the fog, rich with green, green berries that are delicious to it. Many passing minstrels will attempt to lure Note to Self with their lutes, but their songs will only give it fright - alas, it is prone to flight.
Very rarely, a shop will appear upon the moor, bearing branches laden with the green, green berries that Note to Self loves to graze on so much. They will approach slowly, holding out the branch and humming a sweet tune under their breath. Note to Self will turn and stare piercingly through the fog at the shop. The brand takes the shops measure in that moment - sometimes in less than a second. And if Note to Self makes well of the shop, it will approach politely, almost bashfully. They are now friends.

Something like this happened when Garth from Perth emailed me and told me about this new shop he was opening. It's called Lo-Fi and it looks great.

If you look carefully at this photo that Garth sent through, you will spot some fine looking jeans perched authoritatively atop the centre bench. Yep, that's Note to Self for you. I think.

If your eyes now stray to the fancy bookshelf, you'll spy amongst the Heavytime publications and Monster Childrens, a copy of Kosciuszko, the tale of my healthy-fated trip up Australia's highest peak.

I really like the look of this shop. Functional changerooms, a tasteful use of neon and fantastic things to buy. What more do you want, you guys? Hats? Art? A staircase? Guess what - Garth and his friends have it all in spades.

If you're in the west, do drop in to Lo-Fi and say hello. It's right up there with my other stockists - Doomsday in Melbourne and Twenty Fifty Two in good old Adelaide. Thanks for taming, I mean stocking Note to Self you guys!