Here Is The Story Of Having My Clothes Stolen

Since being back in Australia for a week or so, I have thrown a few little tantrums and gone on many more a rant and rave over everyone’s obsession with their phones. I even cheekily said at a party on the weekend…. “Gosh I should have stayed in Fiji. Then we could have chatted on Facebook.”

I have also for the first time in ages found myself tugging at my dress, putting on a few extra layers of concealer and thinking about the mascara running down my cheeks after my (cold) swim. Then of course campaigning loudly for the reign of natural beauty and how nobody should care what they look like. (FYI: There is nothing society loves more than an ex-model talking about how everyone should embrace how they were born. It’s a conversation winner!)

“Luckily” though… somebody somewhere… whether it was a Buddha, God of Fate, Dakuwaqa or simply the rude thief lurking around Bondi Beach … thought I should no longer be bogged down by this heavy hypocrisy… and with one swift act of crime … took it all from me. Turns out it weighed exactly the same amount as my handbag.

My beloved IPhone (6… yes there is a difference), make-up case, favourite bra, true shimmer lip gloss (thank-you Chloe), wallet and jewels all disappearing into the sinister world of the night. And pawning. (I just hope they are all okay and have stuck together…)

I was robbed at about 8pm at night while doing a photoshoot frolicking around in the waves innocently (with a sexy strong undertone underpinning an effortless warrior like intensity).

When we wrapped I realised everything I owned had walked off. Even my dress. And I was left standing on the walkway in my rainbow bikini (thank-you Becky) and Birkenstocks looking supremely confused and ridiculous.

The night took a turn for the better though. The police arrived and although they solved absolutely nothing and actually slowed my own private investigation right down … they provided us with many a giggle. We snuck into a restaurant, hiding the fact that I was wearing no pants, and enjoyed some hot chocolate by the sea. And then. I found 5 dollars!

I don’t think I have laughed so hard in a long time. (Well actually earlier that evening, I discovered my auntie’s car has really sensitive breaks which meant my cousin and I basically bounced into Bondi. We laughed like hyenas then too.) So. I don’t think I had laughed so hard in … hours.

After the hot chocolates were warming our bellies and our bellies were sore from thinking we were hilarious…I had to sit down with the photographer (the very talented Christophe Sachs) and write a little piece about where I was in my life. In that moment. In this place. And suddenly… everything about having nothing… drifted away.

The sum of everything I lost only really affects one thing. A number I occasionally look at on a screen. (yes usually I look at it on my super cool phone but that’s not the point.)

It’s just money. I really really (really) like it. But I also like hot chocolates.

Adios!