Keyword results: The Outpost
Whether you're a new-born fixie fanatic, or still live by "skate or die" - it doesn't matter what sort of wheels you're repp'n in this town, as long as you've checked out the threads offered in Brisbane's own cultural goldmine, The Outpost.
Secluded down an alleyway off Ann St, flagged down with a pirate flag and a wooden tree at its door, The Outpost is the little brother of renowned fashion boutique, Blonde Venus.
There comes a time in every man's life when he realises that ‘change' is unavoidable - we're talking about a change in pant wear. For whatever reason, whether it's due to current trousers being too old, too tight or too worn - the decision to throw away these slacks in effort to becoming a sharper, more finely dressed individual is risky business.
Today I learnt about the meaning of man love, despite what Google had to say about it, man love is not demonstrated by ripped black dudes fondling themslves wearing only g-strings, bling and aviator glasses - it's about when all your favourite clothing labels come together under one happy roof and offer themselves at low-low prices, in order to cover your loins and make your man lumps look good for less.
Sick under the covers last Thursday night huh? Warm vegetable soup and ginger-siberianginseng-spiritualina overdose? Friends rope you into a game of Fifa that didn't seem to stop? Were you feverishly dreaming of skateboards that resemble nü-urban parks and broomsticks? Were you stuck in Berlin last Thursday night? OK, so you missed the party.
Many of you know Matt one way or another: The guy who owns The Outpost, DJ Old Lady, 1/9 of Nine Lives, The Mayor of Winn Street, the driving force behind I Used To Skate Once - but now it's time to take a spin with Matt as he takes you a journey through space and time. May we introduce you to Matthew Brady - the teenager, it was the year 1986 and punk was alive and well.
Last year I was sitting in a café in Melbourne and the three men working behind the counter all had one thing in common: beanies. Well, aside from all three of them looking just the way I like ‘em; bearded with nice, well-shaped heads and horn-rimmed glasses - it was the beanie element that stood out the most.
Carmela Ruffino is a machine. So much so, that we think she should change her name to Tuffino. I mean, no sissy could ever pump out as many amazing paintings as she does and still have time to live and love the way you can see she does (it's there in her eyes). Ruffino has created these miniature paintings, which could almost be described as some sort of nü linear abstraction.
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