WE'RE SUPPORTING

What a love affair I am having with the flat as a pancake paintings of artist Ann Toebbe! Foreground, middleground, background — none of it makes a difference to Toebbe, who steamrolls over all of it to create the most unbelievably enticing abstractions. Read more

WE'RE TRAVELLING TO

As a child, gold mining towns were exemplified in my mind by boring theme parks populated by out of work actors in naff colonial costumes. My parents used to drag us along in our overheated datsun because they couldn’t afford to take the kids to Disneyland. As often happens, I now appreciate the destinations whose mentions used to prompt a whole lot of whingeing about seatbelt buckle burns and compensation payouts of McDonalds. Walhalla is one such beauty. Set in the misty foothills of Australia’s Baw Baw ranges, it was once a gold era boom-town, but is now home to less than 20 residents (not counting the ghosts). Read more

WE'RE WEARING

Marc Jacobs’ newly unleashed Autumn 08 collection hit the stage this week and if there is an international designer who I couldn’t appreciate any more, then it’s Marc. His signature patent-leather goods are the apple of my eyes and I think my MJ leather-quilted wallet, stam-bag and ballet mouse flats are being overlooked for Mark Jacob’s freshly launched red velvet trimmed pumps. Read more

WE'RE THINKING

I’m such a sucker for colored pencil these days and I’m really digging the way UK illustrator Peter James Field goes at it. The pencil brings a soft, folkiness to what might otherwise be pretty straightforward renderings.

WE'RE READING

The New York Times recently posted a selection of Mad Magazine fold-ins from the past 40 years of the magazine’s history. The feature allows you to actually fold the images to reveal the decoded message and picture.

Not much more needs to be said about this. Ricky Gervais, the funniest man in England, meets Larry David, the funniest man in America. Wit and genius collides. Very, very clever.

WE'RE LISTENING TO

Major Stars are another throwback ’70s rock band, playing Sabbath-flavored, guitar-driven psych tunes. But what sets them apart from the horde of Zeppelin-worshipping clones is vocalist Sandra Clarkson, whose voice is clean and feminine, but loud and aggressive — she doesn’t try to affect a Janis Joplin rasp. The band’s music also skews heavily towards the Acid Mothers Temple end of the ’70s revival thing rather than the Wolfmother side, another plus. Nope, rock still isn’t dead.