BRIEF INTERVIEWS WITH HANDSOME MEN (or, Derek Rielly Talks About Sydney)

Posted: May 19th, 2009

Derek Rielly is handsome, whip smart, and currently topping my “Men I’ll Sleep With When I Come Out Of The Closet” list. He’s also the founder of Stab, by far the most X-rated surf magazine in history. In my quest to get up to speed on 21^st century Sydney (as opposed to my dated, nostalgia-tinged version), I interviewed him after a sunny, offshore, double-overhead session at South Bronte. He wore a white headband, white vee-neck tee, Louis Vutton high-cut shorts, and snowy white tube socks pulled up to his knees. He resembled a late-‘70s Bjorn Borg with an Oscar Wilde wit. At one point he whipped out a ping-pong paddle.

 

Define Sydney’s personality, character, etc.

Like most joints, walk a few hundred metres down the road and you’ve gone from gold-rimmed, red lens aviator, sunshine yellow with vintage belt, electric blue RL Black Label shirt with epaulets and two breast pocket boat shoe-wearing gorgeousness to black polar fleece hoodies and tracksuit pants far too short and far too big. But, if we must generalise, Sydney is a shallow city where making it big is everything. There is no design consciousness or anything world-class except its fabulous harbor and northern peninsula.

 

Tell us about the tall poppy syndrome.

It exists only in the imagination. You get famous, you make a little money, and you start to get paranoid about who’s your real pals and who’s in it for the connection or to shower under your money. Are the famous above criticism?

 

Best and worst things about Sydney?

The architecture is ghastly. Wartime and pre-war shanties and morose apartment blocks abutting astonishingly ordinary high-rises and developer Meriton’s crude attempts at dense housing. That said, I do understand the basic concept of the psychology of taste and realise beautiful Sydneysiders may wish to commune with their ugly side. The weather is fabulous. The women are all-time. The drugs are expensive. The food is great, and great in the quality-produce kinda way, not in the Michelin Hat kinda way, but that’s here as well. The waves are varied, but rarely of excellent quality.

 

Anything else that might help the foreign surfer better understand Australia?

If you want to understand Australia, you can apply the usual template over it, i.e., big cities are inclusive and exciting while the outer areas are insular and dull. But, it’s these dull places where you’ll find good waves. Australians like to fight and root at night. If we can’t get a root we get furious. Livid, even. And then we fight.

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TWELVE GLORIOUS DAYS IN SYDNEY (And Five Beautiful Bastards)

Posted: May 15th, 2009

 

Andrew Farrell lives in South Bondi. He’s a Series Producer of a TV show called “Deadly Women,” which makes his life quite interesting. When he’s not lapping up the surf and sunshine, he’s researching gruesome murders committed by women. 

Andrew is one of many colorful characters I imbibed red wine with during my 12 glorious days in Sydney. Below are a few more –

 

 

Jay Harrison is a photog/expat Kiwi who, after a decade or so run in NYC, moved to Bronte, where he lives with his delightful ladyfriend, Alise. I stayed on their couch. Ate their muesli. Drank their wine. And felt very grateful for their hospitality. I also watched Jay pull into a heaving barrel at South Bronte.

 

 

Then there’s the eternally smiling and charismatic Derek Rielly, lover of fine womens and prolific writer for Stab. I asked him to describe Sydney’s civic character. Here’s what he said:  ”What a multi-faceted question this is. Like most joints, walk a few hundred meters down the road and you’ve gone from gold-rimmed, red lens aviator, sunshine yellow with vintage belt, electric blue RL Black Label shirt with epaulets and two breast pocket boat shoe-wearing gorgeousness to black polar fleece hoodies and tracksuit pants far too short and far too big. But, if we must generalize, Sydney is a shallow city where making it big is everything. There is no design consciousness or anything world-class except its fabulous harbor and northern peninsula.”

 

 

Aside from being a handsome bastard with a swift cutback, Kane Skenner is a fashion photographer and collector of rare/out-of-print books. The boards in the background are all his, as is the moody storm-over-sea photo, which he shot from a panoramic perch over Whale Beach, Kane’s former home and occassional stomping ground.

 

 

Jack McCoy is hard at work on a film that traces surfing’s roots, though not so much the stuff available via google, wikipedia, etc, but the lesser known, “oral history” version. I saw bits and pieces when I stayed in his Avalon studio. It looks to be something magnificent.

 

The above beautiful bastards helped make my 12 days in Sydney unforgettable, and I feel lucky to call them friends.

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