Get Notorious
 

MARCH, 2009

History may not repeat itself, said Mark Twain, but it does rhyme a lot. Once stood a pub on the corner of Gertrude and Brunswick Streets. It was named after a Scottish highland rogue. The pub closed down, sat quietly for months and now the waterhole has been revived. This time it's named after a suburb that once was: Newtown. A change is as good as a holiday.

Get Notorious. Things change.

This newsletter hails from the heavens of St Jerome's by decode media If you like what you see, sign up for future issues at www.getnotmag.com For advice or information on life, love, luck or science email howdy@getnotmag.com

 
 
Get Not - Events for March
 
Newtown

NEWTOWN WORKERS CLUB

Living in the 'burbs wasn't always parking your assets at the end of the Eltham train line. In 1850, it was settling in Fitzroy - or as it was then named, Newtown. It was a time when you cooked offal in suspended pots over your fireplace and some guy travelled around to your allotment with a water barrel. It was the kind of place where 'city gentlemen' twirled their pencil moustaches, dreamed about property development and guffawed over their future wealth. And when sewerage systems weren't in place, residents - ahem - were forced to 'make-do' in their backyards. Backyards became unsavoury by the presence of the privy, so the council acted. The Fitzroy laneways that we know today were created so that nightmen had easy access to dwellers' backyards to empty their pans. How glamorous.

Once the depression of the late 1800s walloped the wealthy, Newtown became Fitzroy and Fitzroy was nicknamed 'Notorious Fitzroy'. Reports of gangsterism, crime, poverty and immorality tarnished Fitzroy's name. Gertrude Street became famous for its brothels, which eventually turned into cheap housing for immigrant families who often shared single rooms. Housing prices plummeted and local governments attempted to 'clean up' Fitzroy. Slum-clearance programs included cheap government housing. Fitzroy became famous for its floods, rowdy bars and redbrick skyline. It's low property prices, rich history and general crumminess appealed to the academics of the 1970s, students of the 1980s-1990s and now Young Urban Professionals of the 21st century.

Today, we yearn for a bygone Fitzroy - one that was heaving with students, musicians and artists all eating Charmaine's ice-cream; where Flamenco dancers stomped loudly at The Spanish Club and bands played proudly at the Punters. Once upon a time, it seems, no one complained about noise and there was no need to curse new residents. Alas, swanky apartments are shooting up faster than a barrista whips up your morning latte. The restaurants along Brunswick Street aren't roach-filled and the new shops aren't necessarily cutting edge; the multiple interior design stores are catering to the cashed up.

Amidst the decor shops, pretty stationary outlets and high fashion haunts there's one venue that's connecting old Fitzroy with the new. Newtown Workers Club harks back to the days when Irish workmen ordered a pot and a pint and drank away their earnings; when there weren't noise complaints, let alone a sewerage system - never fear, The Newtown Workers Club is fitted out with toilets in perfect working order. The Rob Roy is no longer, but the famous stone façade still stands, and there isn't a cheap pizza joint in sight.


Newtown Workers Club

51 Brunswick St, Fitzroy

Mon-Sun 4pm-1am

 
 
Newtown Workers Club
 
Fashion Festival

L'OREAL FASHION FESTIVAL

Top three picks for this year's festival.

Maripolarama

Forget Madonna's crotch-in-face aesthetic and remember the classic neon glow of 'Like a Virgin' circa 1984. Flurries of teenage girls followed suit by crimping their fringes, wearing rosary beads and exposed their lace underthings. This 'Madonna Wannabe' phenomenon was the doing of French-born fashion designer, photographer, and film producer, Maripol. Despite styling Madonna during this golden era, Maripol has gone under-recognised. Like Warhol in his Factory, she immersed herself in the cultural hotbed of New York's Lower East Side during the 1980s, photographing the likes of Grace Jones, Vincent Gallo and Keith Haring on her Polaroid SX 70.

These Polaroids will be exhibited at Don't Come Gallery Level Two, Royal Arcade, 314 Little Collins Street. It will launch March 18, 9-6pm

Dior on Film (pictured)

WWII women knew the factory uniform well: sensible clothing made from starchy cotton fabrics that were durable, dull and affordable. 1940s style was inspired by the waste-not-want-not mantra and indulgence was just a friend you weren't allowed to invite over. That's why Christian Dior's New Look of 1947 - presented right after the war - was not only brave, but it was highly disapproved of by stuffy government trade authorities who had their nation's economy at heart. Dior recreated the female silhouette and used affordable, fancy-for-the-time fabrics. Tiny hand-span waistlines and froufrou skirts gave the factory uniform-style dress a royal boot. Dior on Film is ACMI's contribution to the L'Oreal Fashion Festival; four films that document the life and times of Christian Dior's influence on style and trade.

A Relative Distance (pictured)

tin&ed roost on the 8th floor of the Nicholas Building, Melbourne. They're a design duo who play hard, work harder and are led by their imaginations. tin&ed have waved their wands across websites, print, ballet and bags; and now they're up to some fashionable tricks for this year's festival. A Relative Distance is the first of a two-part exhibition at Lamington Drive. They create relationships between garments and illustration by calling upon their friends and involving them in a group workshop. The duo dressed their human canvasses up in a mish-mash of materials to create oddball outfits and abstract silhouettes. "The whole idea was to construct a way to disrupt our image making process, we find that randomness and spontaneity really interesting."

A Relative Distance will run until March 28. Head to: Lamington Drive at The Compound Interest Centre for Applied Arts, 89 George Street, Near the corner of Gertrude

 
 
Got Not March