Tag Archives: Melbourne

A Guest Contribution from the Infamous Helen: A Photo Essay

In a previous post, we discussed The Rape Alleys of Melbourne, in which my friend Helen and myself went Adventuring across the city to Discover.

What we didn’t tell you (or really, what I didn’t tell you as this is the first time Helen has contributed to Sophie. In fact, she doesn’t know she’s contributing yet but I’m sure she’ll be okay with it. I hope she’ll be okay with it. If she isn’t, then this post will be Deleted Forever, so get all over it while you can) yeah, so what we didn’t tell you was that during our Adventures we had—

A Horrid Experience.

This is our story…


Stay tuned for The Rape Alleys of Melbourne Part III: The Measuring of the Tiny Alley.

*I’m much prettier then this in real life.

Bitch please, you’re from Ohio.

George and I went out to dinner last night and were served by an American waitress from Ohio.

When asked if she liked living in Australia she said, ‘yeeeeah, but fashion in Melbourne is totally weird. I can’t shop.’ And so I start getting all diplomatic about it, and start saying shit like, yes, well, Melbourne is quite proud of their fashion you know, we don’t really do the whole chain store thing.’ and she’s all ‘I know, I can see that, I can’t handle not having a GAP around and you guys wear the weirdest things, it’s like, omg.’ And I could see that as she said ‘oh my god’, she actually spelled it in her head as ‘omg.’

So she starts rattling off the weird aspects of Melbourne fashion, like boots and layers and broaches and accessories and pretty much describing exactly what I was wearing down to the two different earrings in each ear.

And I was almost offended.

But just in time I realised: You shop at GAP, and you’re from Ohio.

It’s very hard to take offence from someone you feel so sorry for.

The Rape Alleys of Melbourne

A little while ago, myself and my friend Helen from Scream Under Streetlights fame, went on an Adventure to explore the alleyways of Melbourne. Our Adventures were called ‘The Rape Alleys of Melbourne’, because as everyone who is from Melbourne knows, most of the alleyways that haven’t been invaded by chic cafes look like the perfect place to go if you want to be raped and murdered.

I should explain that you won’t get raped and murdered in the Rape Alleys—at least I really hope not—but you will discover awesome bars and crazy graffiti.

This is what we found: (pictures by the lovely Helen)

Turn to the right (you can turn to the right, it doesn’t look like it but you can) and you’ll find The Croft Institute, another post for another day.

WHERE DOES THIS DOOR LEAD!? I don’t know. I am excited about it though.

There are many more photos but then this will just go for a really long time.

Helen and I walked all over the city to find these alleyways, but somehow, SOMEHOW, we missed The Best One.

On Friday night I was walking up Lonsdale Street and I passed an alleyway that was about the width of my head. Okay, slight exaggeration. But it was pretty tiny. I was pretty spacey at the time, not for any fun reason but mostly because I have been suffering from a mysterious illness* for the past two weeks that comes and goes like something that comes and goes a lot. See, even my analogies are suffering. So I’m all la la la, spacey sickness land, and I pass this alleyway and I have enough presence of mind to text Helen about twenty minutes later going oooooh woooow, rape alley extravaganza! but not enough to actually remember where it is or what it’s called except it’s somewhere on Lonsdale Street, which let’s face it, is a pretty long street.

So Helen and I plan to pack our Exploration Bag and go Looking and Report Our Findings. Our Exploration Bag will contain:

1 tape measure

1 camera

It’s a pretty small bag. But then I will Report Our Findings and Post Photos.

* I have Googled my illness to the point that I think I am suffering from a tumour of some kind and will probably die soon. I have to stop trying to self diagnose. It does not help me and I should have learned my lesson ever since the internet told me I was going to have a heart attack. I didn’t. I had a pulled muscle.