Snow White Meets Prince Charmless

“Who are you?” Snow White asked as she coughed up remnants of poisoned apple.

“The Prince.”

“Oh! Prince Charming?”

“I don’t know any Prince Charming. I’m Prince Charmless.”

“I can see that,” Snow White’s lip curled delicately as she looked him up and down. His garments were unstylish to say the least.
She eyed the plaid shirt with suspicion, “Are you sure you’re not a woodsman?”

Snow White’s lip curled delicately as she looked him up and down.

“Does this look like an axe?” Prince Charmless brandished his sword, and Snow White pretended to cower.

The meaning of her derisive glance was not lost on the Prince. “That’s gratitude for you!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Who was
it that accepted a poisoned apple from a very unattractive old lady, eh?”

Crossing her arms defiantly on her bosom, Snow White lifted her nose in the air and looked away. Such pretension ought to be depressed immediately.

“Do you want to be rescued, or not?”

“Hmph!”

Taking that as an affirmative, Prince Charmless unceremoniously lifted her into his arms, trampling on the rose bushes blooming all over Snow White’s glass coffin as he did so.

“There’s nothing wrong with my legs,” Snow White remarked waspishly.

“Tsk-tsk! … You are so not
a princess, either.”

“Tsk-tsk!” Prince Charmless reproved her ungracious manners.
“You are so not a princess, either.” With that pithy observation, Prince Charmless whisked her off to his hotted-up yellow
Torana SLX.

Snow White wasn’t about to let him have the last word. “The first thing we are going to do when we get to the palace is find you
a stylist.”

The Torana burst into six-cylindered life, and off they drove into the sunset, arguing all the way.

Check out the All Dressed-Up gallery for still versions of the slideshow above, and one more in the Outtakes & Extras gallery. Also coming up in the next week or two is a “Making Of” post, so come back for more!

*Eeek! If you are viewing this page and see only a blank white square at the top, you may be using Internet Explorer. Please try viewing through Firefox or Safari. So sorry; currently seeking technical advice to remedy this problem…

Puffs Still Speak Volumes

Weren’t these once called balloon skirts? There’s so much volume in this outfit I would ascend like Mary Poppins, umbrella or no umbrella, if I actually wore this in the street.

But this spring’s been so wet I probably would be carrying an umbrella!

No need to be dispirited though: spring’s arrival brings on the racing carnival and a mood of frivolity; and as usual there’s plenty to be had in Melbourne’s boutiques.

And yes, puff sleeves are still well and truly in, as are frills, layers and asymmetrical details.

So don’t be afraid to go bouffant, for after all, I expect you’ll be well-grounded by the fierce heels you’ll be wearing to counteract all this sugar.

The Legend of the Snow Angel

A rare glimpse of the elusive Snow Angel shows her tiptoeing through the snowdrifts bare-footed, one hand lifted in poignant farewell to Winter.

Dressed all in white, she blends into the wintry landscape, but we have managed to capture her with our telephoto lens before she disappeared into a sudden flurry of snowflakes.

The winter is long however, and although our calendar indicates Spring is lurking around the corner, we have a feeling we have not seen the last of the Snow Angel. We may yet have the chance to record her final dance in celebration of winter, before the warmer weather chases her ever northwards.… until next year.  

Penny Grows Up… But is Still Lost in Space

Sunday 16 August, 2009

Dear Mom,

I am still stuck on the planet Zog, but I am excited to report that I was finally able to update my wardrobe and get into the 21^st century. Those matt fabric pastels Judy and I used to wear are so passé. By the way, has she forgiven me yet for stealing Donny away from her?

We’re doing pretty well here, although Don’s had to learn to multitask and cope with menial household chores while he looks after the kids – but that’s how things are done here on Zog. I’m usually out and about, hunting for the table, or for scrap to go on Don’s pile. He keeps talking about building a new ship so we can get out of here, but what with changing nappies and so on, Zog knows when that day will come! At least he’s stopped complaining now when I go out for a beer with the girls.

I do hope that Dad finally stowed Dr Smith away in the brig after that last stunt of his that saw me and Donny stranded here?

And how is dear Will going? How many kids do he and the Green Lady have now? Eleven is it? Who knew she would give birth to a litter every time. I reckon cosmic rays scrambled her ovaries what with all that wafting about in space she did before she settled down.

Well, I hope you are in good form. Love to Dad, and hope to hear from you soon.

Love,
Penny

Snow White – the true story

Annoying little men. Look at them. They all look the same, even after I made them shave off their beards. Just as well they all have their stupid little idiosyncrasies, or I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

You’d think at least one of them would be able to cook though. I mean, what did they do before I got here? Don’t they know I used to be a PRINCESS? Look at Doc – on his soapbox as usual. If he doesn’t shut up soon I’m going to roundhouse him to the head. And I won’t even have to lift my leg that high.

Don’t they know I used to be
a PRINCESS?

How did I wind up here riding herd on seven midgets? And how am I going to get away? If the Queen wasn’t so vain, I’d be back at the castle, with seven little people looking after my needs.

And I’m supposed to hang out here in the backwoods, waiting for my prince to come? How long will that take? Forget that! I’m going to have to come to my own rescue!

Thanks to Volodya for having the bravery to agree to extensive multiplication and Photoshopping.