SYDNEY - Hotpants and Fireworks

It's Australia Day week here in Sydney and yesterday I joined a rather large crowd of others crowded round a pair of slightly worn looking gold hotpants in a plexi-glass case. Said hotpants were the centrepiece of a museum exhibition dedicated to pop princess Kylie Minogue, who donated several hundred pieces of memrobilia for the occassion. I know what you're thinking (especially my non British/Aussie) readers: who cares, right? Well, if the proddings towards various features of the afformentionned hotpants are anything to go by, the answer is plenty of folks. Kylie is one of those interesting creatures who has resisted all attempts to curl up and dissapear, constantly reinventing her image yet somehow looking exactly the same as she did twenty years ago when she slapped on a pair of battered dungarees and made a mark for feminism by playing the ultimate tomboy mechanic, Charlene Robinson nee Mitchell in Neighbours. (Afformentionned dungarees were also in the exhibition, in all their tatty glory. Needless to say, amongst the spangles and sparkles, they were my favourite item.)


The transport room at the Powerhouse Museum. My favourite of the Sydney museums thanks to its bizzarely effective collection of both science and interior design. And, of course, Kylie. Incidentally I would, of course, have photographed the hotpants and dungarees had not a needlessly strict photography ban been in place. Obviously they're afraid of terrorists using information of Kylie in their fiendish plots, or they want to sell more brochures, or something between the two.

And I realise that, like it or not: Kylie has been one of Australia's foremost emissaries to the rest of the world for two decades. From the opening ceremony of the Sydney 2000 Olympics to her marvellous cameo as the Green Fairy in Moulin Rouge! she's managed to get herself almost everywhere. It's gratifying that the Australians do seem to like it. In the UK we're quick to savage our icons as soon as humanly possible. It's a fun exhibition, I was glad I got a chance to see it. (Kylie even donated one of her Smash Hits Poll Winners' lumps of perspex to be oggled over. Brits of a certain age will remember how exciting that used to be)


Another entry in the fast becoming 'nearly-as-tedious-as-from-the-air-and-weird-signage-shots' series of fireworks around the Phworld: fireworks. This time for Australia Day.

So, anyway, Australia Day. Actually, it was right to start with Kylie since, when the customary compliation of great Aussie songs started up to accompany the local Castle Hill fireworks display on the big day itself, there were at least three of Kylie's. And a whole bunch of country music. We decided to avoid the throngs around the harbour and stick to the suburbs for our choice of holiday entertainment (it seems more right, anyhow, since as I remember writing in my last post, Australia is a country of suburbs, not cities) It was all very civilised and family oriented fun. A particular highlight was seeing McDonalds' gaudy McCafe shoved back onto the fringes of the showground, with pride of place centre spots being given to Aussie brands. It's enough to make even a Pommie shed a tear or two.