Girls on top (Down Under)


Puh-raise the Lord.  Finally.  Halle Berry … I mean… Halle Lujah.  The Governor General of Australia is a woman.  The Prime Minister of Australia is a woman.  The not so long ago deposed Premier of New South Wales is a woman (least said soonest mended).  The Premier of Queensland is a woman (Ok, this was accurate at the time of writing, which was a while ago – unfortunately she’s bitten the Queensland dust as well).  The Lord Mayor of Sydney, Clover Moore, is a woman.

They’re Women!  Can I just say that again.  Wimmin!!!

Just after I arrived back in the blinkin’ lucky country, almost 2 years ago (after 12 years in England) and was culturally readjusting, one of the first things I saw on the telly news was the swearing in of Julia Gillard, who I knew about of course (I wasn’t that far out of touch), but… by… whom?

Couldn’t work it out.  I knew who it SHOULD have been – a crusty old bloke in a 1950’s suit, but there was this… what was it?… oh heck… it’s a woman!

I said to my Dad, “Well who on earth is the broad then?”  He said, “Oh That’s Quentin Bryce, the Governor General of Australia”.

I was stunned.  I’d been overseas for over a decade… things had jolly-well changed down under… that’s for sure and certain.

A woman!!  She was wearing a cheeky little Chanel number and pearls.

So that’s several seriously top jobs in the old “Running of Australia Department”, held by women.  I’m so darned pleased about this overall concept, that I couldn’t give a hoot if they squander all the public monies on LBD’s and Bang Bang shoes … I don’t give a whatsit if they spend all my tax dollars on scented soy candles, throw cushions and little guest soaps shaped like butterflies…YOU GO GIRLS, YOU HAVE MY BLESSING !!!

A lot of people appear to be tip-toeing around this.  Shhhh gently, don’t step on the daisies, mind those egg shells, don’t wake the baby …

I want to shout it from the rooftops  THEY’RE WOMEN! (IMMEN… IMMEN… IMMEN…).

Some of the men in Oz are still looking the other way – sort of deliberately gazing out the reality window – when someone actually draws their attention inward they’ll go, “Oh flamin’ galahs mate, how in the blazes did that happen?  That’s not a Prime Minister mate, THIS is a Prime Minister (displaying a picture of Bob Hawke, always kept in their wallets over the top of an old picture of the wife).  Knew we should’na given ‘em the vote”.

Did we choose not to hear the almighty shattering and booming crash as a large section of the glass ceiling fell to earth??!!!  Or are we all just waiting quietly to see if this is simply an aberration?

BTW –  Does anyone else think that “Clover Moore” sounds like a dairy style spread that actually increases your cholesterol levels, you know, if they’re not high enough?   Or is it just me ?

Next week, my lovelies, does Al attend conventions?

rooshkie. x.