Wonderland Wanderess

  Temporary dreadlocks, commonly known as "temp dreads", can be synthetic or real hair, depending on the locktee's preference.  As with regular hair extensions or dread extensions, real temp locks can be coloured, while synthetic, cannot.  Synthetic temp locks are also a great deal heavier after washing and cannot be blow dried (they would melt!).  towel drying, then air drying, is required which becomes tedious and time consuming, to say the least! I trialled temp dreads before my "natural" dreads and opted for synthetic to cut costs.  If I had my time again, I would definitely invest in the real hair... though hindsight is a wonderful thing and this choice would be rendered redundant; I would likely skip the temp dreads altogether and get straight to commencing the "Baby Dread" journey (baby dreads is the term used for freshly installed dreads in natural hair). ~ I have spent the majority of my life, lusting after dreads —even as a young child, I was

  Whoever said, "Blondes have more fun" must never have met a dread head!  Surely nothing is comparable to a kaleidoscope of colours, spattered with glittering beads, upon a canvas of wild, rope-like tresses. Surely, this is not bias.  No.  Fact it must be—dread heads certainly have more fun! Hi!  I'm Wonderland Wanderess, by name and by nature, and it is my absolute pleasure to announce my appointment as blogger for Dreadlocks Unlocked.  This is, as the name suggests, a dreadlock salon, and is the brainchild of Styles Highfields owner, Sair. Sair, a fellow dread head herself, is down to earth, friendly, quirky and authentic; a wonderful human, by all accounts.  It should then come as no surprise that Styles is one of the only local hair salons, catering to dreadlock cliental. ~ As my first post, I have decided to do a Q & A of frequently asked questions about dreads.  Should you have any questions I may have missed, please feel free to add them in the comments sectio

  Cultural Warning: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are warned that the following blog post contains images and names of deceased persons Introduction The writer acknowledges the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples as the traditional custodians of Australian land.   Respect is paid to the Elders, past and present.   With this respect in mind, this essay will examine the Mabo decision and the importance of this decision for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians.   It will commence with a brief biography of the life of Edward ‘Koiki’ Mabo.   Next, an overview of Mabo v Queensland (No.2) will be discussed, followed by a critique.   Finally, the impact the Mabo decision had on dispossession will be analysed.   It will be argued that, fundamental as the Mabo decision may have been, it was conditional and with it came complex rules the Crown had no right to attach.      The Man Behind the Law Edward ‘Koiki’ Mabo, widely known as ‘Eddie Mabo’, was

Crow, Jim (c. 1825—c. 1884) by C M Wormington Jim ‘Jimmy’ Crow (c. 1825—c. 1884), camp operator and Indigenous guide, was born in the 1820s, in the Darling Downs, Queensland (Kerkhove 2020). His exact birth and death dates remain unknown and, in addition, it is unclear whether Crow's surname was associated with his crow-like appearance or his moiety (Kerkhove 2020); in fact, many aspects of Crow's early life are disputed. This can most likely be attributed to his younger years having occurred in early Aboriginal times. Written history from these times is ‘…almost non-existent’ (McGreevy 2003, para. 1) and, because of this, there is a large gap in the documented facts of Crow’s life. This gap ranges from his birth, up until approximately his early 20s. Popular belief holds that the entire name ‘Jim Crow’ was given to him by the early settlers (Watson 2020), with his traditional birth name remaining a mystery; however, Kerkhove (2020) did not acknowledge this theory in hi

No human being is entirely good or entirely bad and my father was no exception to this.  Amidst attempted abductions, over a decade of stalking, countless Domestic Violence Orders, alcohol induced rages, bitter custody battles, supervised visitations at contact centres and terrifying untreated mental illness, was the man who did not once hesitate to order seafood pizzas for me, all the while knowing I would eat nothing, but the teensy-weensy baby octopuses off them.     Beneath the outward portrayal of toughness was the dad who took his children to Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meetings and church so we could see he was trying.  Masked by the facade of a performance he had mentally cast himself in as "Father of the Year", was the manic yes-man, in all his grandiose glory, who saw no problem with allowing his son to ride in the boot of the car at his request to, nor with doing doughnuts and burn-outs in the middle of public parks—never mind the blood noses from our faces const

I'm not sure what I expected, however, I know it wasn't this.  I've waited for anger, grief, bitterness; there is none.  A strange peace and acceptance continues to surround me.  What a complex and puzzling structure, the human mind can be.  How peculiar it is to be just as surprised by one's perception of and response to life events, as everybody else! It has been almost two months now since my womb and I parted ways.  I would like to say we parted as friends but that's poppycock—we've been mortal enemies for years, her and I.  Utey and I rarely saw eye to eye—embryos were planted in her fields and she rejected them, causing anaemia was her favourite game and as a side hobby, she knitted endometrium into her muscle walls, laughing hysterically, I'm sure, as her handmade-with-hate adenomyosis sweater dropped me to my knees in pain.  Yes, my uter-arsehole was a sadist, though I'll never forget her sweet side.  For twenty-seven months, out of the 378 month