There aren’t many things I’m sure of in this strange old world, but there is one thing that I am; that as I get older, I feel ‘it’ growing stronger. I’m not even entirely sure what ‘it’ is to be honest, but what it feels like is a strength, an ease, a balance.
People say ‘it’ grows from an accumulation of trials and adventures, an understanding of your own processes as well as others. I don’t really know. But it continues to grow the older I get; a clearer heart, a softer anger, an even balance to my chin. Not high and proving, not low and afraid, but an even chin, level to the ground, my eye’s clear and looking straight ahead. My smile real, not forced. I taste ‘it’ like a berry on my tongue; bone- honest and fresh – and I want more. Every year goes by and my desire for it increases.
Like most of us, I’ve tasted extremes in life – I’ve fallen ass over tit and even shared in a couple of successes. As a child, I was freckle skinned and kind of odd (okay, a lot of odd). I was like a small freckled, knobbly-kneed, tom-boyed fairy to be precise. But eventually I started to grow out my freckles and wipe my face clean. Then I pushed my hair a brighter shade of ‘I want to fit in’ and wore red gloss on my lips and said ‘OMG’ a lot. In my twenties I became an adventurer and travelled madly with a hell bent curiosity to climb mountains, love hard, push my limits and get into trouble. At one stage I even learnt to hush my passions, wear grown up women’s clothes and work in administration. With depression I learnt that life was too short and depression too dangerous a friend to give up on your dreams.
Looking back on it all now, it feels like a kaleidoscope. There were so many highs, lows, so many mistakes, red blooded excitement, uncertainness and searching. Unsure of how to be, what I wanted or where I belonged.
I’m in my thirties now and even though I haven’t found total peace, I sure can smell it from here. Now, all those different parts of my past have become a part of me, and they have lost their sharp edges. I am more at ease with myself now. Age has helped me lose the panic yet keep the joy. I am so deeply thankful for that. It’s the ‘it’ growing stronger with age. As lovely age continues to blossom, my curves soften and grow round, my hair is brushed, I am an adult, tall and even. The fury of youth, the insistence, danger and curiosity like a smack of crazy in my blood has gone. I am no longer at the mercy of it. Of any of it; the oddity, the mud splatters, the pushed hair, the proving, the travels, the nine to five, the uncertainty. I am standing above it, (and not just because I get to wear stilettos now) and I am adaptable. I feel my past is this big bag of experiences that I can use now, plucking out life lessons at will, helping me in everyday life.
The older I get, the more I know how to grow, turn the other cheek, communicate better, live fearlessly or fix a tap. I even know the wise small ways to keep depression at bay. I feel this ripening in me – and I love it. My berry ripening. I love growing older more than I can say. I see myself in years to come with crinkly old skin, smiling that deep satisfied smile of a woman who has fought her battles and won. Who knows that lovely dazy feeling of her past integrating and her happiness being balanced. I can only imagine the roundness, the final completion and joining of all my parts, the curvy berry roundness of old age to come.

- Bella Vendramini

Out now at newsagencies, the April issue with Rachel Bilson on the cover is where you’ll get a glimpse of me wobbling on high heels trying to look like I know what I’m doing for the photo shoot.

ps Buy a copy of Cosmopolitan this month, and not only because I’m in it – but because it’s just damned fine reading. It’s now become my secret entertainment bible – there’s everything in there, not just fashion and how to choose a mascara that doesn’t clog (although let’s admit, that’s helpful)  it has a lot of down to earth stuff about love, life and career – good stuff to affirm younger readers, and great stuff for older readers to have a giggle/oooh over. If you haven’t read a copy in a while – pick one up – you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Here’s a pic the make-up lady took of me during the Cosmo shoot;

When I was asked by the lovely Candy Baker (formally of the Byron Bay Writer’s Festival) to contribute some stories for a new book ‘The Wisdom of Women’  - I was entirely sure she’s mistaken me for somebody else – somebody with an intelligent gleam in her eyes, a smooth flow of wisery (new word, I like it) sentiments and at least a few crinkles on her face. Then it hit me –  I had the crinkles in abundance! – so why not I say … Allen and Unwin have published it and it’s out right now on shelves… here’s a peek at one of my stories …

There aren’t many things I’m sure of in this strange old world, but there is one thing that I am; that as I get older, I feel ‘it’ growing stronger. I’m not even entirely sure what ‘it’ is to be honest, but what it feels like is a strength, an ease, a balance.

People say ‘it’ grows from an accumulation of trials and adventures, an understanding of your own processes as well as others.  I don’t really know. But it continues to grow the older I get; a clearer heart, a softer anger, an even balance to my chin. Not high and proving, not low and afraid, but an even chin, level to the ground, my eye’s clear and looking straight ahead. My smile real, not forced. I taste ‘it’ like a berry on my tongue; bone- honest and fresh – and I want more. Every year goes by and my desire for it increases.

Like most of us, I’ve tasted extremes in life – I’ve fallen ass over tit and even shared in a couple of successes.   As a child, I was freckle skinned and kind of odd (okay, a lot of odd). I was like a small freckled, knobbly-kneed, tom-boyed fairy to be precise. But eventually I started to grow out my freckles and wipe my face clean. Then I pushed my hair a brighter shade of ‘I want to fit in’ and wore red gloss on my lips and said ‘OMG’ a lot. In my twenties I became an adventurer and travelled madly with a hell bent curiosity to climb mountains, love hard, push my limits and get into trouble.  At one stage I even learnt to hush my passions, wear grown up women’s clothes and work in administration.  With depression I learnt that life was too short and depression too dangerous a friend to give up on your dreams.

Looking back on it all now, it feels like a kaleidoscope. There were so many highs, lows, so many mistakes, red blooded excitement, uncertainness and searching. Unsure of how to be, what I wanted or where I belonged.

I’m in my thirties now and even though I haven’t found total peace, I sure can smell it from here. Now, all those different parts of my past have become a part of me, and they have lost their sharp edges. I am more at ease with myself now. Age has helped me lose the panic yet keep the joy.  I am so deeply thankful for that. It’s the ‘it’ growing stronger with age. As lovely age continues to blossom, my curves soften and grow round, my hair is brushed, I am an adult, tall and even. The fury of youth, the insistence, danger and curiosity like a smack of crazy in my blood has gone. I am no longer at the mercy of it. Of any of it; the oddity, the mud splatters, the pushed hair, the proving, the travels, the nine to five, the uncertainty. I am standing above it, (and not just because I get to wear stilettos now) and I am adaptable. I feel my past is this big bag of experiences that I can use now, plucking out life lessons at will, helping me in everyday life.

The older I get, the more I know how to grow, turn the other cheek, communicate better, live fearlessly or fix a tap.  I even know the wise small ways to keep depression at bay.  I feel this ripening in me – and I love it. My berry ripening. I love growing older more than I can say. I see myself in years to come with crinkly old skin, smiling that deep satisfied smile of a woman who has fought her battles and won. Who knows that lovely dazy feeling of her past integrating and her happiness being balanced. I can only imagine the roundness, the final completion and joining of all my parts, the curvy berry roundness of old age to come.

-          Bella Vendramini

Here’s a recent interview I did for Australian Bookshelf

http://australianbookshelf.wordpress.com/2011/08/21/aussie-interview-with-bella-vendramini-international-giveaway/

Also a new review for Biting The Big Apple

http://australianbookshelf.wordpress.com/2011/08/18/aussie-book-review-biting-the-big-apple-by-bella-vendramini/

and one for Naked In Public

http://australianbookshelf.wordpress.com/2011/08/20/aussie-book-review-naked-in-public-by-bella-vendramini/

xxBella

I went into my local newsagents and asked for two copies

‘But why do you want two copies’ demanded the big guy behind the counter

‘I have a review in there of my memoir’

‘What’s it called?’

‘Naked In Public’

His eyes bored a hole through my clothes ‘you might be a good little read then, huh’ he said significantly eyeing my breasts.

Note to self – for third book choose less sexually explicit title.

Check out a recent interview I gave on 4zzz book club ( despite being hungover as hell)

http://warispeace.podbean.com/2011/04/14/bella-vendramini-interview/

xB

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smqrpM1uePw

Vote here as often as you like until May 2011

http://www.cosmopolitan.com.au/fun-fearless-females/2011/bella_vendramini_inaked_in_publici.htm

I’ve made it back to sunny Sydney and am doing press and things for Naked In Public – I did a radio interview yesterday, the presenter saying she felt ‘disturbed and delighted’ by Naked In Public…

‘Huh’? being my oh so eloquent response

‘Disturbed because I suffered with you and delighted becasue you made me laugh hard while doing it’

Indeed!

*grin

I’m nearing the end of an 8 week road trip across the southern states of the good ole US of A – and a road trip it has been – fast cars – blown up cars – greasy spoons – Vegas bling – Grand canyon splendor – random meetings with strange folk (including ‘George of The Desert’ and a wizened Indian guy who tried to buy me for 30 grand – but that’s a story for another time) – heavy accelerator foot – late nights - too much festiva - and plenty of chocolate stops – it has been an absolute blast of a trip, and very good third book fodder.

I’m coming back to Sydney next week to launch Naked In Public (a true story of surviving Mr right through love, travel and stiff drinks) – the next installment after Biting The Big Apple. It covers living in New York, falling in and out of love, travel through europe and the states and in general a lot of naughtiness/frolicking/embarrassing bits.

Aussies and Kiwis can get it at any good bookstore near you and yanks and europites can order it online from any of the stores – Angus and Robertson – Borders etc.

xBella

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your ‘Always’ maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the Leak Guard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I’d probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I’d certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts.

But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can’t tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there’s a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from ‘the curse’? I’m guessing you haven’t. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body.

Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I’ll be transformed into what my husband likes to call ‘an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.’ Isn’t the human body amazing?

As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you’ve no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers monthly visits from ‘Aunt Flo’. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying, jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it’s a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend’s testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey’s Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!

The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants… Which brings me to the reason for my letter.

Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: ‘Have a Happy Period.’

Are you —— kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness – actual smiling, laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James?

FYI, unless you’re some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything ‘happy’ about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don’t march down to the local Walgreen’s armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.

For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn’t it make more sense to say something that’s actually pertinent, like ‘Put down the Hammer’ or ‘Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong’, or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull sh*t.

And that’s a promise I will keep. Always!