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WEARING Puma Fenty faux fur slides after having them boxed and confined in tags since August. I don't know why it took me so long so embrace them. And now I'm praying that any dreaded heat will remain at bay a while longer, just so I can enjoy wearing these for a few weeks more. Because I honestly can't envision slipping these on during an intense Australian summer.
USING 3ina nail polishes. I don't know what it is about this brand but I am irrevocably drawn to it. The store layout is nothing revolutionary and yet feels avant-guard to me. The colours are plentiful and dynamic and ranges available are comprehensive. I've been smitten with their nail polishes not just for looks but for durability (with their gel-like top coat that is).
LOVING this gifted mirrored rose gold phone case from Light In The Box. I can't tell you how many compliments I've received with this bad boy, I've even been stopped in the middle of a store about it. While it's undeniably charming. it's also rather resilient. I know this from an unfortunate incident or two. Best of all I adore the mirrored surface, which comes in handy at the best of times. Overall for being well under $10 this is such a steal. Check it out here for more colours and size options.
OBSESSED my new Canon toy. Impetuously I decided to invest in the EOS M3 after reading a few positive reviews online. I was originally in the market for something mirrorless and lightweight (while I "save" up for a 5D) but hadn't done much, if any, research on models period. I may have regretted such vagary at first but I've been overly pleased with this impulse buy as it has been such a treat to play with. Quality wise it's been an obvious step up from my iPhone camera as you'll probably note in a previous post (here). I've been rather taken with the images it produces and the copious functions available. I only wished I had pulled the trigger sooner.
LISTENING to Revolution Radio by Green Day. These guys are always so damn consistent with their sound and always know how to make me feel like I'm nineteen again.
WATCHING K Dramas. I probably should have placed this in the obsessed section because I am very much infatuated. Its become a nightly habit these days and a nice break from the mundane. I've really taken to what I sometimes perceive to be overly corny storylines and wacky sense of humour. I've also become quite the "expert" in anticipating these storylines. Rowena from Rolala Loves once mentioned how formulaic these shows tend become and boy was she right. There's always some kind of catastrophic car crash or bizarre u-turn scene scripted once or twice into the plot. But I think that's one of the reasons why I adore them. Currently I'm watching Shopaholic Louis which has been increasingly humorous; most involving incidents with vehicles.
HOPING for a white Christmas but obviously, when pigs fly.
xoxo
// THERE'S STILL TIME TO ENTER MY 5 YEAR BLOGVERSARY GIVEAWAY. FINAL DAYS TO GO LOVERS. MORE DETAILS HERE.
// THERE'S STILL TIME TO ENTER MY 5 YEAR BLOGVERSARY GIVEAWAY. FINAL DAYS TO GO LOVERS. MORE DETAILS HERE.
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What is your opinion on designer collaborations with high street brands?
Personally, I am all for them; especially the Target kind. In Australia I do find the hype is nowhere near as extreme as what it once was. I remember when Stella McCartney designed for Target, the first of its kind, and it was sheer madness. I also recall how divided the masses were. There were those of us who revelled at the chance to effortlessly acquire some Stella. Then there were the others, content with sitting on the sidelines; full of judgement and unabashed chortling.
I remembering overhearing some co-workers ridiculing the hysteria, despite having gone to Target to peruse the range themselves mind you. They were blatantly mocking the "plebes" who went ape shit crazy for Stella's pieces. And their reasoning for doing so, because it's still Target. I was floored by this obnoxiousness, and truthfully I put down their cruelty to pure envy for having missed out on collecting something for themselves. And it got me thinking. Why does one purchase something designer at all? Is it to feel highbrow? To attain something just because it's expensive and you can show it off? Or because you appreciate the quality and craft behind an idea or brand? I like to think of myself as a person who purchases something because it speaks to me; not because it's exuberantly pricey. It shouldn't matter if it's found in a designers boutique or as a collaboration on the high street because it's still a creation conjured by that same brand.
I feel in love with this clutch from Target's latest collaboration with the wickedly amazing Jean Paul Gaultier. There were a number of striped pieces I lusted over but I chose to invest in this instead. There's just something so fiercely rock 'n' roll about it. And finally this dress from Romwe is pretty incredible. Granted, it is a little snug on me which was ultimately my own fault for not checking the size guides, but I actually don't mind it being on the fitted side. I was slightly annoyed that it came sans lining or a slip so I had to improvise with this ASOS tank. I'm not sure that I'm feeling the white, I think I need to find something in a similar hue to the dress. Also excuse the those mules. God they are gorgeous right? Except they are a wee bit small and unbelievably I stepped out looking like that. I need to up my game people, especially if I'm going to share it on the internets, forever cementing these lovelies on my feet as a major faux pas. But then that's life isn't it? You aren't always picture perfect and this idea of continually posting such ridiculousness online and on social media is detrimental to the impressionable.
-Sxx
WEARING: Pocket wrap dress c/o Romwe, ASOS singlet/slip, Spurr Ebony mules (similar), Jean Paul Gaultier for Target clutch, Missguided aviators (similar).
The Dressmaker. A best-selling novel written by Rosalie Ham and recently turned into an award-winning film starring Kate Winslet and Liam Hemsworth. It is a story set in the 1950's, in the fictional outback town of Dungatar, Australia. Tilly played by Kate returns to her hometown after a successful career in Paris as a dressmaker to tend to her ill mother and in the process transforms the townspeople with her designs. The tale has numerous themes, none more prevalent than fashion itself and its undeniable power of inner and outer self renewal.
And it is these very fashions, a total of fifty haute couture creations by costume designers Margot Wilson and Marion Boyce that are currently on display at the Rippon Lea Estate in Melbourne.
And last Thursday night I had the extreme pleasure of attending an exclusive bloggers preview to marvel at the incredibly iconic pieces showcased in the movie, and meet with the costume designer and author themselves.
The exhibition, now open to the public to peruse, is on display at the Rippon Lea House and Gardens. The estate itself is a gloriously palatial mansion built in the 1960's. Truly a most exquisitely luxe locale, both on the inside and out and one that is perfection paired with these dazzling vintage pieces. Walking through the grounds and into the building, surrounded by interior architecture and design of a bygone era and then accompanied by specific sartorial pieces, the experience as a whole truly catapults you back in time, and dare I say back to Dungatar in the 1950's.
The couture is displayed so tastefully, each with an accompanying backdrop, relevant to scenes from the movie itself. Laid out like a story awaiting to be read, the exhibition does a tremendous job in revealing pieces inspired by Parisian couture of the 1950's, delicately highlighting detail and the precision involved in the process of costume design and its development for the film.
And being in such close proximity to breathtaking vintage pieces is a real joy for any sartorial admirer.
Discerning and detecting every stitch, every weave and fabric embroidery is truly sensational for the senses. The resplendent array of lace and colour, the construction and artisanship of pieces were quality is clearly evident. One thing is for sure, they just don't make fashion like this anymore. Which in turn is quite saddening. Especially as women, the fact that we've become so accustomed to poorly and unethically made clothing, that we settle for ordinary and mass production because the media tells us so or simply because financially, some of us have no say in the matter. The designs from The Dressmaker will leave you very much aware and perhaps longing for the days of fanfare, of well fitted and produced clothing.
Aside from being able to inspect each piece, I also had the pleasure of conversing with Marion for second time and with the author, Rosalie Ham who was a delight to meet. And as an aspiring author, her energy and enthusiasm for her work, especially in having it produced into a film is utterly contagious. She is sincerely proud as punch and you can't help but revel her elation.
When it comes to the actual novel, the themes in the story were inspired by her everyday life and her displeasure for the alarming amounts of hypocrisy, bigotry and vanity she witnessed around her. Something which was a common matter, regardless of wherever you found yourself in the world.
Her mother was a dressmaker, as most women were back then. Though the many ensembles she illustrated in her novel were far from inspired by her own mothers humble designs. In fact she actually drew musings for the fashions from midday movies she watched on television or via numerous books she'd explored at libraries. She had clear and concise visuals for each character to which were dressed accordingly. She humbly delights in these pieces, feeling rather accomplished in terms of fashion design. However in seeing her story come to life and the ravishing pieces that Marion had acquired and created she began to view her own inspirations as plainly modest, something as a writer I find to be amusing.
When it comes to the ensembles in the movie, she doesn't have just one favourite, rather finding herself drawn to various pieces and all for individual reasons. Something which mostly changes on a daily basis. For the moment, she adores the green silk crepe piece that character Marigold wore. And of course the red polka dot number, a vintage Nina Ricci that pirouette's behind her also makes her swoon.
When it came to her work being transformed into film, she had complete faith in producer Sue Maslin. Having grown up in the same community and even going to school together, Rosalie knew Sue would be able to translate and correlate her story onto the big screen like no one else. While she gave her free reign she did have one stipulation, that her family, friends and herself got to be extras on the film. Something which was happily granted.
And while there were noticeable differences between the book and film Rosalie has no qualms. Sue Maslin converted the story perfectly and Margot and Marion's costumes were on par with the overall image and feel of her story. Ultimately Rosalie had no problem handing her story over as she patiently waited for her great moment, on screen with none other than Kate Winslet.
And of course Marion Boyce, one of the astounding individuals behind the incredible array of costumes and couture acquired for the movie. Her passion and adoration for the era, for style and accoutrement really shine in these designs. Her ability to breathe life into forgotten pieces, making them covetable and very much wearable is an enviable skill.
Though the beginnings of this project were far from effortless. For Marion, it was a challenging process trying to marry high end couture with a desolate and unglamorous landscape. However in an unexpected turn of events it was this very environment which ultimately inspired her. That and the photographic work of Richard Avedon. From the colour palette at the beginning of the film, an assortment of dusty browns and rusted hues to the forms and flow of each ensemble, something that inspired by the graceful flight and movement of birds which was ubiquitous on set. Correlating their movement with the characters as a type of preening, almost peacock like in appearance and mimicking this with the use of shawls.
There were a number of unique vintage pieces acquired for the movie, all located from various sources worldwide. Out of these, Marion's favourite piece is red polka dot number, an original vintage Nina Ricci, later worn by Gertrude. One that also happens to be my favourite too. Another stand out piece was the matador jacket worn by Hugo Weaving on the film. Another vintage beauty sourced from Spain and one that helped inspire the design for the pants to accompany it. The jacket is a resplendent work of art, thick in adornment and gold embroidery. The essence of opulence.
While Marion had adored pieces, there was one that she felt most connected to and that was an organza cape, a piece created by John Van Gastel.
Fabric has a unique way of transforming and an ability of revitalising the wearer. While in relation to todays fashions, this could be somewhat questionable. The style of yesteryear and designs created and on display for The Dressmaker are very much palpable. Clothing was made to measure, made to endure. It was a luxury more than necessity and something the wearer wore with pride. Pieces were indeed made to last and they were unique nonetheless. Unlike todays mass production of fast fashion.
I like finding pieces. I find a lot of fashion totally dictates the way you have to wear it, and I like to find pieces that you can then translate in different ways and reformat in different ways and then wear it the way you want instead of the way someone wants you to be.
As Marion points out, todays style we all seem to blend as one and these pieces don't last long before becoming riddled with annoying small holes and loose threads; worst yet easily becoming dated. The 1950's were incredibly glamorous, individual style was commonplace and not something that was desperately attempted to be attained. There's no wonder why this period was highlighted. A costume designer really needs to understand the material and the script before them to be able to construe. The rich use of silk and paper taffetas, lace and embroidery really pay homage to a time of pure artistry and finesse.
The Dressmaker exhibition is held at Rippon Lea House and Gardens and runs from the 22nd of April until the 31st of July. Tickets are available now online or at the venue.
-Sxx
The Hoover Dam originally wasn't on the itinerary. In fact whilst composing said itinerary this wasn't even contemplated. More so because our time in this part of the world was brief and because it never really crossed my mind as a point of interest; not for this sojourn at least. Strangely enough this is a site I feel as though I am overly familiar with, having grown up viewing and hearing copious references many times over. And thanks to the countless 80's comedic movies I was consumed by as a child, I suppose you could say that magic of the Hoover Dam was lost on me. Or perhaps there never really was any to begin hence such blatant disregard for one of man's greatest accomplishments in engineering.
But alas as fate would have it, Hoover Dam was indeed explored on this trip; albeit a most brief expedition.
Because of a turn of kismet, suddenly this destination was highlighted. Yet in hindsight, it had been a forceful omnipresent the entire time. I'd just been so oblivious to it. While I noted remarks on it here and there, it was even more present whilst we gallivanted around the Vegas strip, where mentions of the Hoover Dam ran rampant. From tourism signage and placards to mere conversations between individuals waiting in lengthy lines. It almost was a hot topic of exchange, both in terms of general tourism and environmental matters.
So how did the Hoover Dam actually come to be for us? On our final night in Las Vegas (read about my time in Las Vegas here), I checked the National Park Service for any alerts for visiting the Grand Canyon the following day. To my dismay it advised against travel due to the anticipation of a snow storm centred for that area.
And thus the catalyst for visiting the Hoover Dam.
But it undeniably worked in our favor.
Not only did we get to see this marvel in person, we also avoided what would have been a horrendously unpleasant (read, frightful drive for two Aussie's who've never seen let alone driven in snow before) ride through a snow storm.
Though we far from escaped such terror as the drive from Hoover Dam to Flagstaff, Arizona saw our last leg literally navigating at a snails pace (and I mean literally). I may be a little dramatic when I speak of this drive as it wasn't too strenuous. At least nothing our faithful rental Jeep couldn't handle. We started with a parched landscape which then merged from barren and rocky to even more desolation and eventually thinning out to fall flush with the horizon, passionately emphasizing those monumental beasts we'd just slipped through.
After a while a blanket of white curtains and shields the accustomed plain of aridity before us. But in a flash it vanishes as we breeze past, making us question if our eyes were deceiving us. The next few moments do nothing to dispel such emotions as haphazard lumps of white splay here and there; reserved to one side of the road, then drastically moving to the other. At the sight of an upcoming field of snow I pull over and we revel in this phenomena. Our antics score us a chorus of vehicular toots from many a passerby; no doubt recognising the unfolding scenes as none other than Aussie tourist tomfoolery.
And while it was all fun and games at dusk, as we moved closer to our destination, nightfall crept and with it, temperatures plummeted as we slowly approached the fringes of a waning snow storm. The very one we tried so desperately to evade. Gripping the wheel I drove forth, unsure and utterly aghast over the possibility of black ice; whatever that was. And because of such uncertainty I kept the car at a leisurely pace, stuck fast behind a large semi-trailer, if he swerved, so did I. I refused to give up my position behind him, undeterred by the numerous vehicles sweeping past us. It felt like a fool proof plan and in the end, it got us to out destination in one piece. Despite being hours belated.
But enough of those snow escapades, I'll continue with this story in another post.
Visiting Hoover Dam was truly astounding and stirred so many emotions within. From serious concern over water levels to the phenomenal marvel of such a prodigious site and the seemingly glorious triumph of engineering. A legitimately monumental feat of construction; one dominating obvious intense power over Mother Nature herself. One so fierce that the actual creation and act of repressing such a mass and body of water literally marred the Earth's crust and induced hundreds of earthquakes.
The sheer scale of Hoover Dam is indescribable and it's easy to see why it had such an impact geologically.
And yet it's difficult to get a palpable sense of this as you drive over it; even while meandering through the various parking lots, catching glimpses here and there. Even when you step out of your car it's hard to grasp (depending on where you've parked). But as you close in on the reservoir and the Mike O'Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge on foot, the utter majesty becomes evident to the senses.
As does the complexity of such an operation.
But alas as fate would have it, Hoover Dam was indeed explored on this trip; albeit a most brief expedition.
Because of a turn of kismet, suddenly this destination was highlighted. Yet in hindsight, it had been a forceful omnipresent the entire time. I'd just been so oblivious to it. While I noted remarks on it here and there, it was even more present whilst we gallivanted around the Vegas strip, where mentions of the Hoover Dam ran rampant. From tourism signage and placards to mere conversations between individuals waiting in lengthy lines. It almost was a hot topic of exchange, both in terms of general tourism and environmental matters.
So how did the Hoover Dam actually come to be for us? On our final night in Las Vegas (read about my time in Las Vegas here), I checked the National Park Service for any alerts for visiting the Grand Canyon the following day. To my dismay it advised against travel due to the anticipation of a snow storm centred for that area.
And thus the catalyst for visiting the Hoover Dam.
But it undeniably worked in our favor.
Not only did we get to see this marvel in person, we also avoided what would have been a horrendously unpleasant (read, frightful drive for two Aussie's who've never seen let alone driven in snow before) ride through a snow storm.
Though we far from escaped such terror as the drive from Hoover Dam to Flagstaff, Arizona saw our last leg literally navigating at a snails pace (and I mean literally). I may be a little dramatic when I speak of this drive as it wasn't too strenuous. At least nothing our faithful rental Jeep couldn't handle. We started with a parched landscape which then merged from barren and rocky to even more desolation and eventually thinning out to fall flush with the horizon, passionately emphasizing those monumental beasts we'd just slipped through.
After a while a blanket of white curtains and shields the accustomed plain of aridity before us. But in a flash it vanishes as we breeze past, making us question if our eyes were deceiving us. The next few moments do nothing to dispel such emotions as haphazard lumps of white splay here and there; reserved to one side of the road, then drastically moving to the other. At the sight of an upcoming field of snow I pull over and we revel in this phenomena. Our antics score us a chorus of vehicular toots from many a passerby; no doubt recognising the unfolding scenes as none other than Aussie tourist tomfoolery.
And while it was all fun and games at dusk, as we moved closer to our destination, nightfall crept and with it, temperatures plummeted as we slowly approached the fringes of a waning snow storm. The very one we tried so desperately to evade. Gripping the wheel I drove forth, unsure and utterly aghast over the possibility of black ice; whatever that was. And because of such uncertainty I kept the car at a leisurely pace, stuck fast behind a large semi-trailer, if he swerved, so did I. I refused to give up my position behind him, undeterred by the numerous vehicles sweeping past us. It felt like a fool proof plan and in the end, it got us to out destination in one piece. Despite being hours belated.
But enough of those snow escapades, I'll continue with this story in another post.
Visiting Hoover Dam was truly astounding and stirred so many emotions within. From serious concern over water levels to the phenomenal marvel of such a prodigious site and the seemingly glorious triumph of engineering. A legitimately monumental feat of construction; one dominating obvious intense power over Mother Nature herself. One so fierce that the actual creation and act of repressing such a mass and body of water literally marred the Earth's crust and induced hundreds of earthquakes.
The sheer scale of Hoover Dam is indescribable and it's easy to see why it had such an impact geologically.
And yet it's difficult to get a palpable sense of this as you drive over it; even while meandering through the various parking lots, catching glimpses here and there. Even when you step out of your car it's hard to grasp (depending on where you've parked). But as you close in on the reservoir and the Mike O'Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge on foot, the utter majesty becomes evident to the senses.
As does the complexity of such an operation.
Hoover Dam is dignified, grandiose and imposing. It is largely unparalleled in scale, something that is wonderfully evident as you peer over it's walls. To one side you have the Colorado River pooling at the concrete barrier and around it's intake towers. The other side, the base of Hoover Dam where you'll find the powerplant and a steady stream of water disappearing over the bend. Both sides are very much contrasting yet they share one similarity; those rocky beasts I grew so fond of. Magnificently enveloping, like a protective parent; possessive and vigilant. I could have spent hours just staring down and around those surroundings, analyzing the contrast between nature and manmade.
And I must admit, when I first peered over on the side which houses the powerplant, I couldn't help but unsuccessfully search for that same door Clark Griswold popped out of after getting lost from his tour group. I don't have the best of eyesight so I was unsuccessful, leaving me to doubt myself. And doubt I did ever since, until I found this clip (watch here) in which someone else effortlessly locates it. I won't lie, I've been examining my photos for signs of it but alas can not make anything out. If you can spot it in any of these photos, please let me know!
There are also many notable references to the Art Deco period, which I found to be nicely unexpected. From monuments to sculptural reliefs, you'll find many dotted throughout. There's been much debate over time about these embellishments and their appropriateness. Some say it's too lavish and jarring for such landscape and structure. Others believe it compliments it beautifully, paying homage to a time of great dexterity and grandeur. I happen to agree with the latter.
I didn't get a chance to suitably view those memorials nor the flamboyant statues and sculptures. To be honest, I had no idea I'd find such things. Outrageously I didn't even detect these pronounced references myself. I was far too lost with mans achievement and the intricacies of nature. It wasn't until we were about to depart and as I walked past a grand golden door (see the image above) I overheard a man pointing out to his partner the Art Deco reliefs above it. He started to explain the importance and meaning behind each one, I was instantly fascinated, immediately observing the various references throughout the site. They'd been there all along and I was totally oblivious to them. I did attempt to eavesdrop further but there was far too much bustle in proximity.
Art Deco references shouldn't be of surprise considering Hoover Dam was constructed in 1931 and completed in 1936. Many lives were lost during it's development with tales of bodies being carelessly buried within the structure. Though I doubt there would be much validity to those stories since decaying corpses would cause air-pockets and obvious signs of concrete weakness would be evident. Their loss of life is no joke and has been somewhat immortalised within the vicinity through copious monuments, all varying in scale and design.
While magnificence is seemingly evident there is something rather unharmonious about Hoover Dam and that would be the notable drop in water levels, sharply annotated on the sides of those cliffs.
Water levels was something I overhead many a time when others spoke of Hoover Dam. In fact conversations were mostly fixed on this very subject. They wouldn't point out the brilliance of man or the dramatic scope of the site, it was always the decline and plunge of that reservoir. There were notable hints of despair and concern laced in their voices, a sadness even. And yet what baffled me most was with this genuine unease people were ostensibly doing nothing to aide the issue at hand.
As an Australian, drought is something I've grown up with. And this isn't something solely reserved for rural or arid areas either. Drought encompasses our main cities too. Melbourne went through extreme and concerning dearth a few years back spanning over decades no less. Back in 2008 our reservoirs dipped down to an alarming 30%. During that time we banded together as a whole to limit our use and preserve what very little we had. And we did so well before this too, back in 1996 restrictions were put in place which were carried out for many years. Showers were limited to four minutes only and households were sent miniature hourglass figurines to assist in this. Watering one's garden beds could only be done so during dawn and dusk but this didn't include lawns. And washing your car wasn't permitted as the use of a garden hose was banned. Though you could take your car to a car wash and have it cleaned there.
These were extreme measures but it needed to be done. So as someone who lived the majority of her life with water restrictions and the constant threat of aridity to come to Hoover Dam and witness something similar was disheartening. Especially to see that residents and companies were still so careless about this precious and essential natural commodity. Passing through various towns and states one thing was a constant. Homes and front yards were immaculately green and vehicles were constantly spotless and fresh. Then there are the numerous fountains you find in Las Vegas, unceasingly on display. Peoples concerns were rife and yet it felt like they were burying their heads in the sand, thinking this too shall pass.
And maybe it will, but is it truly going to hurt to consume less? To have patchy brown lawn or fountains that use recycled water?
Regardless I'd highly recommend a visit here. Especially if you find yourself in Sin City. It's a short drive from town and is a place that needs to be seen to be believed. Or at least to cross off your bucketlist. It is one the seven wonders of the world and that should be motivation enough.
This post has been a work in progress and is one that has taken much time and effort to creating. I've found myself lost in thought, daydreaming and reminiscing on my time here. Mostly regrets though as I wished I had planned our time better or done some research so I could have made the most of this visit. I'll definitely go back again, this time I'd take those tours to see its inner operations as well as perusing the many memorials throughout the site. Hoover Dam is immense in size not just in scale but in sights to actually see. I'd would love to venture back immediately though I feel it would be best to wait for the winter months as I can't even begin to imagine how busy it becomes during the summer (or how anyone even manages parking for that matter). It was rather crowded when we visited which wasn't peak season so just imagine what it would be like later on in the year. Honestly I don't think I could manage.
And I must admit, when I first peered over on the side which houses the powerplant, I couldn't help but unsuccessfully search for that same door Clark Griswold popped out of after getting lost from his tour group. I don't have the best of eyesight so I was unsuccessful, leaving me to doubt myself. And doubt I did ever since, until I found this clip (watch here) in which someone else effortlessly locates it. I won't lie, I've been examining my photos for signs of it but alas can not make anything out. If you can spot it in any of these photos, please let me know!
There are also many notable references to the Art Deco period, which I found to be nicely unexpected. From monuments to sculptural reliefs, you'll find many dotted throughout. There's been much debate over time about these embellishments and their appropriateness. Some say it's too lavish and jarring for such landscape and structure. Others believe it compliments it beautifully, paying homage to a time of great dexterity and grandeur. I happen to agree with the latter.
I didn't get a chance to suitably view those memorials nor the flamboyant statues and sculptures. To be honest, I had no idea I'd find such things. Outrageously I didn't even detect these pronounced references myself. I was far too lost with mans achievement and the intricacies of nature. It wasn't until we were about to depart and as I walked past a grand golden door (see the image above) I overheard a man pointing out to his partner the Art Deco reliefs above it. He started to explain the importance and meaning behind each one, I was instantly fascinated, immediately observing the various references throughout the site. They'd been there all along and I was totally oblivious to them. I did attempt to eavesdrop further but there was far too much bustle in proximity.
Art Deco references shouldn't be of surprise considering Hoover Dam was constructed in 1931 and completed in 1936. Many lives were lost during it's development with tales of bodies being carelessly buried within the structure. Though I doubt there would be much validity to those stories since decaying corpses would cause air-pockets and obvious signs of concrete weakness would be evident. Their loss of life is no joke and has been somewhat immortalised within the vicinity through copious monuments, all varying in scale and design.
While magnificence is seemingly evident there is something rather unharmonious about Hoover Dam and that would be the notable drop in water levels, sharply annotated on the sides of those cliffs.
Water levels was something I overhead many a time when others spoke of Hoover Dam. In fact conversations were mostly fixed on this very subject. They wouldn't point out the brilliance of man or the dramatic scope of the site, it was always the decline and plunge of that reservoir. There were notable hints of despair and concern laced in their voices, a sadness even. And yet what baffled me most was with this genuine unease people were ostensibly doing nothing to aide the issue at hand.
As an Australian, drought is something I've grown up with. And this isn't something solely reserved for rural or arid areas either. Drought encompasses our main cities too. Melbourne went through extreme and concerning dearth a few years back spanning over decades no less. Back in 2008 our reservoirs dipped down to an alarming 30%. During that time we banded together as a whole to limit our use and preserve what very little we had. And we did so well before this too, back in 1996 restrictions were put in place which were carried out for many years. Showers were limited to four minutes only and households were sent miniature hourglass figurines to assist in this. Watering one's garden beds could only be done so during dawn and dusk but this didn't include lawns. And washing your car wasn't permitted as the use of a garden hose was banned. Though you could take your car to a car wash and have it cleaned there.
These were extreme measures but it needed to be done. So as someone who lived the majority of her life with water restrictions and the constant threat of aridity to come to Hoover Dam and witness something similar was disheartening. Especially to see that residents and companies were still so careless about this precious and essential natural commodity. Passing through various towns and states one thing was a constant. Homes and front yards were immaculately green and vehicles were constantly spotless and fresh. Then there are the numerous fountains you find in Las Vegas, unceasingly on display. Peoples concerns were rife and yet it felt like they were burying their heads in the sand, thinking this too shall pass.
And maybe it will, but is it truly going to hurt to consume less? To have patchy brown lawn or fountains that use recycled water?
Regardless I'd highly recommend a visit here. Especially if you find yourself in Sin City. It's a short drive from town and is a place that needs to be seen to be believed. Or at least to cross off your bucketlist. It is one the seven wonders of the world and that should be motivation enough.
This post has been a work in progress and is one that has taken much time and effort to creating. I've found myself lost in thought, daydreaming and reminiscing on my time here. Mostly regrets though as I wished I had planned our time better or done some research so I could have made the most of this visit. I'll definitely go back again, this time I'd take those tours to see its inner operations as well as perusing the many memorials throughout the site. Hoover Dam is immense in size not just in scale but in sights to actually see. I'd would love to venture back immediately though I feel it would be best to wait for the winter months as I can't even begin to imagine how busy it becomes during the summer (or how anyone even manages parking for that matter). It was rather crowded when we visited which wasn't peak season so just imagine what it would be like later on in the year. Honestly I don't think I could manage.
-Sxx
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