Monday, March 03, 2008

Umbrella Discourse

You know, I’ve never heard that Umbrella-ella song everyone hates? I don’t know how I’ve avoided it; I assume it’s a great stroke of luck. Pretty cool, huh?

ANYWAY. I think I am cultivating the beginnings of an obsession.

I suddenly have… many umbrellas. And you know obsession because you own several of the item in question, one being a ‘good’ one you seldom use, and others to fit certain moods, and others just because.

I just bought a massive clear dome one. It’s just fantastic. Not only can you see through this bad boy, but its large dome covers both backpack and me to mid-torso.

I also have a blue ikea one, for when I need the cheerful. Full size with a blond wooden handle.

A grey, mean, skinny one, again full size. It’s ever so miserly- and adult-looking.

A black travel one, of course. Compact yet sturdy, we bought it for $30 in Sydney at the NIN 05 trip, when it started to drizzle. We emerged from the shop, it had stopped drizzling, and didn’t rain again for the whole trip. Handy, though.

A dodgy, collapsible half-broken one I might chuck out.

A sturdy black, full-size Marie Clare one, tough as, which has holes in it (from a wayward zipping incident, I think) which I SHOULD throw out… said sturdiness notwithstanding.

A parasol… does that count? A lovely tacky bright red one, with light blue details and gaudy Asian-esque art.

And then there’s the Umbrella of Happiness.

I met her at Apollo Bay, and then she was gone. Black, interestingly-shaped to a pleasing teardrop-top, with ALL the frills in the world. It’s from the Boston Umbrella Company and it has delightfully foppish instructions (one of which is something along the lines of: ‘Use in sunshine or a light shower. Do not take outside in heavy storms, nor yourself’). For the whole week we were there, I wondered who bought it. It was $50, hence my initial hesitation, but it was all I could think about. Turns out, my mother, who had refused to spot me the cash or buy it for Christmas ($50 for a umbrella = shenanigans, she believes) had put it aside and later bought it for my brother, who gave it to me for Christmas. When I opened it up, I even got teary from excitement. I though it was out of my life forever, but now it was in my hands.

Sick, inexplicable and excessively nerdy, I know. So that’s my burgeoning Umbrella Thing.

7 comments:

RandomGit said...

You know you want Nubrella

teigan said...

I loves it.

There's something about umbrellas.

I have a bit of an umbrella thing but isn't nearly as colourful: it's simply that I found one abandoned in late 2005, which was black and nondescript but it worked well and it amused me because it was a collapsible, but also had the huge curved handle, rendering it much more cumbersome / less compact than it really needed to be. I lost it a few months later, and since then I always have to replace it with one of basically the same design. Which happens regularly, because I cannot keep an umbrella.

This reminds me: my most recent one I lost two months ago at the house of the person who's just moved into my house. I should ask her about it really. Cheers, Desci.

Desci said...

RG: WAAANT!

Teig: I used to go through umbrellas very quickly, but they've been staying with me in the past two or so years,

Sweatergirl said...

Ahh, you poor MJelbournians and your weather-induced fetishes.

Desci said...

At least we get to wear black all year round, so nnnnyer.

The High Priestess said...

Nubrella - Ew.
With the Apollo Bay one - I also want a picture! Although I find it too hot to swan around on a hot day under a black umbrella, I much prefer the sun parasol, less hot underneath.

Desci said...

Mmm, it does get a bit hot, but one must suffer for beauty, darling!

My mum used to tell me this all the time. No, really.