Oktoberfest.

I don’t usually do these kinds of posts, but I had such a cool weekend that I really feel like sharing it. After a truly abysmal Friday at work (suffering a mild hangover, and with a wounded heart), I decided to short circuit the blueness that was trying to claim me and accept the first invitation that came my way.

The We Love Real Beer Festival it was! Armed with three friends and a hell of a thirst, I joined the rest of Cape Town in Woodstock for an evening of beer swigging, catching up and sausage-eating to the tune of some cool blues. I must’ve consumed several litres of beer and also managed to sneak in a cheese wurst and some spirited head shakin’ to the blues.

Saturday was a delightful grey day, and my brother and I trundled down to The Power and the Glory (or the P and the G as we Capetonians fondly like to call it) for brunch with a friend. The P and the G is truly my local, and I will stand by its hipsterness, The National/Arcade Fire soundtrack it has on repeat and their epic sirloin salad to the death. The P and the G attracts some real aesthetes and it’s just the right size so that I can wear my wooden platforms and not fall on my ass during the trip from barstool to bathroom. It truly is the small things.

From there we went to see the Gabrielle Raaf exhibition at Salon 91, and I bought this little wood and floral brooch. I love the colour so much, and the fact that it’s like a kitsch cameo. It looks like the brooch version of this strange but amazing egg-shaped castanet I bought at a second hand shop a while ago.

An afternoon of lazing, talking, pasta-eating and laughing at old photos with friends in Sea Point was followed by the decision to keep up the good work and get our derrieres down to Swing Royale for the swing party. The Swing franchise is Cape Town’s new answer to a night of good music and dancing that doesn’t include smoke machines, strobe lights and David Guetta.

It was my first time. I wore a silk wrap jumpsuit covered in polka dots over stockings with wingtip-style courts and a vintage bolero. In all honesty, it was so short on me that it looked like a really glam leotard, but I have taken to telling myself I won’t be able to wear things like this in five years time and boy, is it workin’! We danced, a lot, and it was such a festive departure from your average night out. Girls were in full tassels, stockings and suspenders, long lashes and lacquered nails, and boys were dapper in bow ties, brogues and rogueish grins.

Sunday, fittingly, was all about sleep, daydreaming, pizza and music. A real all rounder of a weekend, I must say. And guess what? It’s Rocking the Daisies this weekend! I’m already planning my packing list.

See. You. There!

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