where have I been ???

such a long abscence from my queenly post ............ I have been away, extending the queendom, and boy was it hard work ! Phew. I never realised that being queen of rain could be so demanding and exhausting.
But there has been adventure and excitement and adrenalin.
Three new stores since we last spoke - YES THREE.
And to crown it all, one is in Amsterdam. What a dream come true. Our very own homegrown south african brand called Rain now has its own branded store in Amsterdam in the historical canal district of Nege Straatjes. PLEASE grace us with a visit when next in Holland - you can even pay in euros !
It was a privilege and experience living with our franchisees for two weeks, riding to work by bike ( me sitting side saddle like a lady behind George - who had to pedal hard to make it over the bridges ), buying our food from local bakeries and cheese shops, sipping Koffie verkeerd in little sidewalk cafes and generally soaking up the amsterdam scene.

SWELLENDAM STORE MAKEOVER

Took the plunge and painted the Swellendam store in a paint called " Ja Boetie Johan ".
I love the effect with the moody Rain clouds brewing

peacocks & piledrivers

The Spa from Hell
The setting was perfect. A crumbling 15th century Rajasthan palace fort in western India. Perched on the side of an acaia forested hill, with guest rooms oozing mystical magic, hanging gardens, fountains, ponds, turrets, terraces,mazes, secret nooks and crannies. Frequented by mournful peacocks, wild green parrots, monkeys, squirrels, swarms of huge bees.
I was on a marathon fabric buy-athalon in India and decided Sunday called for some downtime. Two hours out of Delhi – there it was – a fantasy hotel clinging to the hillside with impressive views over the village and Rajastani plains below. It was perfect.
But what is R&R without a good massage or spa treatment – I said to myself . Went to the dungeon to sign up and was told there was only a male therapist available. This dismal news resulted in my down grading from a full body package to a head, neck and shoulders deal. Note to self : – NEVER again agree to a male therapist !
an Indian man loves to  parade his strength and manhood – hence the peacock as the national bird. So, having a desparate need to impress me with his brute strength, he proceeded to attack my head with the vigour of a borehole driller, determined to get the coconut cream into the depths of every single hair follicle on my scalp. The pile driving was interspersed with slaps to the crown and violent tossing of my head to and fro. He hurled my cerebellum from one extreme of my skull to the other , pummelling and shaking it like Krakatoa on a good day. I could bear it no longer.
I ordered him to stop immediately – ‘ok, lets move onto the shoulders “ I firmly suggested.
Well, the man had dead hands. No life, no feeling, no passion, no sensitivity. No pizzazz . I so pity his wife .
I gave up, ordered him to stop and asked to be shown to the shower. This was an experience in itself – no door, only a stone three walled cubicle in the foyer area offering no privacy whatsoever.
I left that spa feeling like a newly ploughed field after the oxen have passed over. Four washes later and the coconut cream still refused to budge from my hair.
So much for my R&R

New kid on the block

Guess what I've been doing ?
Working that's what. And here is the proof - a beautiful new store in Somerset Mall.Born on Thursday 10th - 10 days of labour pains ! I have a sore behind, stiff legs and arms, extra wrinkles and a few grey hairs. But it was all worth it .

Rules Laws and General Queening

So, what does she do all day ..... you may ask ?
Well, I queen
( when not shopping that is )
I do queenly things like leading my little company, making tough decisions, solving problems, keeping peace among my subjects, passing rules and laws etc.
It is tough being the boss. Sometimes I feel like a mommy bird coming home to a nest of hungry open mouths – all demanding from me all I have.
As queen I need to earn the worms – that is my job. Providing provisions providentially

sharp nails,sharp heels, sharp tongues

SHARP
Some days I find myself asking how I got into this industry of sharp nails, sharp heels and sharp tongues.
At heart this queen is a tomboy – happiest in jeans and tennis shoes, sun on my face, out in the bushveld in an open jeep scanning for game. If the truth be told, that is what wholly and entirely feeds my soul – pure unadulterated honest NATURE.
I am currently at that age where friends are turning into grandparents. Where faces are being tightened and tits sharpened. So, do I succumb ? Or do I sag gracefully and allow my character lines to tell my life story.
I do sometimes question what kind of advert I am for the products I make and sell.
My answer is Nature & Natural, Organic, Eco friendly & Biodegradable. No synthetics – only wholesome honest and true.

karoo heat

Karoo

The Karoo is a darn hot place. No, perhaps this is an understatement. Karoo is a simile for hot, hot and more hot ......... oh and add to that dry, arid, extreme, isolated. It is the place where the ultimate status symbol is the size of your irrigation dam.
It is a place where even your Estee Lauder Foundation runs, and where no amount of your Fendi eau de toilette can disguise the smell of perspiration.

People who live in the Karoo are tough sunburnt Afrikaner farmers – salt of the earth types whose joy in life is to collect sheep and more sheep and to keep the hungry jackals at bay.They thrive on the solitude and isolation and position their houses at the end of long dusty roads so that they can see the dust from potential visitors half an hour ahead of time - in time to put the moerkoffie on the Aga stove.
Occassionally one retreats to the Karoo to look at stars and to listen to complete silence. It’s very nothingness, space and solitude is very therapeutic if you can stand the heat.
Rain falls rarely in these desolate parts, and yet day after day the scrub waits patiently for a small reprieve.
On a recent escape to the small karoo village of Prince Albert, my man and I sat on the stoep of our little karoo huisie for hours just watching a rain storm gathering over the mountains. The morning topic of conversation in the village was only about rain – will it come or won’t it. After endless speculation and peering heavenward, it eventually began to cool down and the dark thunderclouds converged.
One, two, five large remote drops on the tin roof, and then it let go, hitting the dust with fragrant droplets big enough to hold a goldfish. Palpable relief for the foliage as the organic rain descended – fresh, pure, & cool.
The smell of rain on African dust mingled with wild karoo herbs, quenching a parched and thirsty terrain – reminded me again of why we chose to name our bath range Rain.

more sorrow

The Rockefella store is off. I am devastated & heartbroken.Essentially our dearly beloved bankers of 20 years have dropped us - after keeping our hopes up for five weeks. Somehow they have gone into this mode of 'frozen deer in the headlights " since the country entered recession three months ago. And we are one of the casualties. Strange though how their advertising media shouts about "growing your business from where you are to where you want to be " etc etc - puke puke.
Anyway, I am philosophical and faith filled. God always knows what is best and it is in Him I trust and not my dear sweet bank manager.
So, it is back to the drawing board as they say in the corporate world. For me, it is back on my knees.

Time To Say Goodbye

We have lost a precious friend.
Leon died last night in a head on collision. ( the man in the middle of the photo ).
It is a sore time and we feel desparately aware that only one tiny breath separates this life and the next.It has caused us to take stock of our lives and our relationships, to look back on the good times we shared with him and to value the friends left around us.
He mentored me in my business, he was my husband's adventure buddy and his son is our son. We will miss you Leon

Delta Disaster

Delta airlines have to be the WORST airline in the world. And I have travelled. Short haul flights may well be bearable but long distance - never again.
Cabin crew come stringy and frizzed like a bad perm - slapdash slapstick straight from a Carol Burnett Show- oh so tired.
Ground crew are the sum total of the word rude.I don't know how they sleep at night.
There are no little touches or bits of love to make you feel special or aid relaxation - everything is the barest threadbare clean picked bones - a municipal bus with wings.
And did I mention that I endured four nine hour intercontinental flights within six days with no personal TV screen.
Tatty cabins and stinky loos make you wonder if the engine oil is managing to find its way to its destination.
No seriously now, you can honestly give this airline a miss and take the long route across the atlantic via sydney if need be. It is just not fit for a queen.

The Rock in The Big Apple

You will never guess where I have just been.......
New York.
Yip
The Big Apple
....and for what purpose you might well ask ?
Well to do my queenly duty of approving store locations I might answer.

So, the secret is out. Rain is opening a store in New York. Isn't that just awesome hunnee? and it is in a prime prime location in central Manhattan theatre district right between 5th and 6th avenues. Radio City Music Hall, Anthropology , Nine West and Godiva are our neighbours.
Oh fame at last .
Of course the lease has yet to be signed - we still have some minor haggling to do but it is 99.99% said and done. It is unbearably terrifyingly exciting and thrilling. Our first international flagship store.
All sorts of self doubt creep up on one - even on a queen - and one begins to wonder - is Rain really good enough, can we pull it off , are we fooling ourselves to think we mere african mortals can achieve this ?
And in the next moment all the creepy nagging lurking doubts are shoved away and the happy blessed thoughts take over and one realises the true miracle of it all - that God has really made a way for us, and all we need to do is step forward in faith one foot at a time.
I can't begin to describe how challenging and exhilirating this all feels.Parachuting has nothing on this adrenalin rush.It is also a bit like soul pilates - I feel stretched in every direction by the challenge of making this happen.
On a less intense note, the week long stay at my partners' Simon and Hendrien's home near Conneticut was like a dollop of green in an ocean of hard New York grey.
They live in a forest of horsey farmlands with rivers and lakes for neighbours. On our daily game drives I notched up sightings of three deer, a racoon roadkill and some perky live squirrels.
I was treated royally (one could expect this being queen) with Simon bringing me coffee in bed in the morning - what a good man - and Hendrien feeding me with healthy organic stuff. I was however left with a deep sense of pity for them having to cope without servants - Heaven forbid !