Bridgetsmusings’s Weblog

A few weeks ago, I was back in Oxford – my home before I moved to Melbourne about 4 years ago. The city of dreaming spires is still as beautiful as ever with punts gliding past, croquet being played on perfectly mown college lawns, church bells ringing and gargoyles looking down from many a bell tower and medieval cloister.  

“This marvellous city can be stifling,” says Elijah Wood, a young American student, in a film called The Oxford Murders also starring John Hurt. I know just how he feels. Dripping with architectural, historic and other wonders, it’s easy to feel a bit stuck in Oxford – walled in.  There’s plenty going on and the city offers plenty of wonderful parks and gardens to escape the hustle and bustle, but it lacks a certain vibe, a certain buzz.

Oxford comprises a curious mix of locals, students and tourists and, in truth, never the three do meet. Perhaps that’s why it lacks oomph and why I ran out of steam.  Perhaps too much beauty, too many bell towers, too many walls and all surrounded by a busy ring road and situated in the low-lying (think damp and fog) Thames Basin.

Don’t get me wrong, I did have fun in Oxford and was lucky enough to have a bunch of wonderful friends and a terrific job as fundraiser at the local Wildlife Trust, but after five years,  I was ready to move on to pastures new.

My first few months in Melbourne were tough but once I got going I found that it pretty much gave me a ticket to dream and to start afresh.  Melbourne has an upbeat feel, a groovy vibe, a certain ‘go for it’ energy. Melbourne is never boring – whether you’re into books, fashion, jazz, comedy, food, horse racing, cricket, art, kite-surfing, wine-tasting, fashion or spending lazy days on the beach – it’s all on offer.

Combined with the Aussie ‘go for it’ attitude and ‘you’ll be right’, it’s the kind of place that allows you to reinvent yourself, have an adventure and see what happens.  Forgive all the cliches, but there’s plenty of space in Australia to spread your wings and experiment. It’s a young, vibrant country  – not so beholden to social convention and tradition as the UK.

But, it’s been fun revisiting all those British customs and traditions, all the pomp and dressing-up. Royal Ascot was on last week – and it was nicknamed Royal Chavscot (Chavs are akin to bogans (sp?!)) and their inadequate dress sense has ruffled upper class sartorial feathers).  Dress code for the Royal Enclosure was tightened up this year following complaints that standards were slipping and hemlines rising.

Mini-skirts, midriff-baring tops, spaghetti straps and halter-neck dressed were all banned on the orders of the Queen’s representative, The Duke of Devonshire. Ladies were also advised that knickers should be worn, but not on show, and that streaky tans are a ‘total fashion faux pas.’  Race-going Melburnians – take heed.