'Tis a slow week
.... well at least for blogging it has been! I have a few thoughts running around in my head at the moment which are begging to get written down. But I will ration them out one by one.
Yesterday I went to a new cafe in my area for a delightful breakfast with J and L7 (albeit briefly in her case). Very nice locale - I would put a link in.... but they aren't cyber as yet.
The area in which I live is not so much eclectic - but is trying to be. It is an area which has a large ethnic population, and an inordinately large number of what I affectionately call "Crap Shops" and "old-man" pubs. But because of its proximity to nearby universities and the city, it is a burgeoning part of town. Thankfully for me, although perhaps not for the original residents, the tide is turning and a few more funky places are opening up. They are offering creative menus and so far avoid the inflated wanky prices that places like the nearby Lygon St seem to deem necessary. But I digress.
So the clientele at these new establishments is a little mixed. There is the odd dread-locked soy decaf drinker. Perhaps the obligatory couple, with or without the accessorised infant. But what caught my eye was a group of three gentlemen. There is a point in one's life when you seem to dress exactly like your best friend. I remember doing it. I am not sure why, but I am sure we felt like we thought it very chic. And of course, people tend to be friends with people who are similar to themselves (like attracts like and all that). But the similar dressing phase usually passes by the age of about 12 (one hopes!).
These gentlemen, all in the mid- to late thirties, were dressed identically. They all were khakis, leather sandals (the brand eludes me at the moment) and matching Abercrombie and Fitch Shirst (labels proudly displayed). I wonder if they rang ahead to make sure they would match......