The Posh Wine Bar Recon Mission ….
Newtown 30/01/25
Sydney, the city of brides… according to the iconic Australian movie Muriel’s Wedding. As a young woman, this movie was instrumental in shaping my understanding of adulthood. I loved that MOVIE , although this movie was scripted , something about this story felt so authentic and real. So bloody australian , from my personal opinion movies like this shape romantic culture in a positive way.
Fast forward to 2025 the romantic viewing culture MAFS (Married at First Sight ) is very much the talk of the town. I freely admit my guilty pleasure is reality TV the psychology of this synthetic space , makes me very curious—at times disgusted but no less amused.
Lying in my room in Sydney, I am internally wrestling with my ethics while watching this show—glued to the idiot box, watching the obscenely orchestrated psychological warfare take shape. Yet, I simply can’t look away or ignore the fact that I have a minibar that needs attending to after a long flight from Perth.
So, I embrace my moment of hedonism, melt into the bed, and ride the wave of pure synthetic romance and over processed food.
As i wake the next day to proudly strut along Newton’s king street alone , sporting a breathtaking chic pink titanium cane in left hand and a titanium spine on the inside due to never ending endo flare that i’m having to endure, while mentally and physically preparing to exhibit some of my most intimate imagery at a show created to represent medical misogyny “ what did they tell you ?” at Uno studios on friday.
After dropping off my work at the studio yesterday, feeling proud as punch, I felt the need for a nice glass of wine—partly to celebrate and partly because the second-hand shoes I had bought decided to break.The sole had come unstuck from the back, making it look like a muppet doll talking when viewed from behind, all while simultaneously making a very loud clapping noise with every step.
Thank fuck for the pink cane i thought to myself …
I quickly adopted a foot-dragging method, allowing me to salvage what little remained of the cheap shoe glue before things got really ugly. I knew time was running out—then, like a light from heaven, I spotted a very posh-looking wine bar just moments away.
Dragging my right foot along with a pink cane past some very trendy-looking Sydney couples, I entered as gracefully as possible and asked for a glass of wine.
The young woman seemed a little puzzled but was very accommodating. As always, I maintained a solid poker face, exuding grace and high vibes.I seated myself and slowly began to soak in the energy of the beautifully posh—yet bloody pricey—bar. Unbeknownst to me, I had placed myself smack bang in the middle of date night. But it was too late , I had a mission that needed carrying out.
As i waited for my $7 thimble of “ spiced almonds” the cheapest thing to eat on the leatherbound menu and my $22 glass of wine , i started to carefully listen to what was unfolding around me , while gently peeling the soul of my cheap shoes off and swifty staff in my bag to not bring further attention to myself if that’s at all possible .
I began to have a thought , so if this is the city of brides then why have i not seen any freely roaming the streets of sydney? I finished my wine and put the rest of my “ spiced almonds” in my bag for later , looking to my left thinking i hope the chick next to me doesn’t have the same idea , because from what i could hear the guy she was on a date with ……I wouldn’t put his nuts anywhere near my bag. I know I’m a bit naughty eavesdropping on the dates around me but it was better than sitting at home watching the idiot box version … I had had enough. It was too painful. So I took hold of my pink cane and carefully slid my way out, careful not to lift my right foot to expose my cheapness.
So, I thought the best course of action was to go home, sit on the floor, eat a cheap street meal, drink a beer, wack on Channel 9, and deep dive into MAFS again with a little buzz ..
As I enjoyed my $20 pho and beer, it became very clear that—amusing as MAFS is—I struggled to see how this publicly self-induced torture was helpful to our society, especially after the real-life shit show that had unfolded around me.
It swiftly led me to ponder a deeper issue: a heavy, unhealthy state of atomization. A generation reliant on online dating and swipe culture—like Temu for pussy—paired with clearly poor communication skills and a heavy misunderstanding of their own values. Not the ones spoon-fed to them on fucking TikTok. Falling in love , finding the one in itself is suffering its suffering on pretty much every human level , it’s risky , it’s scary you have to put your dick on the line and your puss on show when the time is right , and TOKTOK aint gonna help ya then … To show your intimate self is to show you as a flawed authentic human , and in my opinion that’s usually why we fall in love. The love that sticks is the love that comes from the truth of being the same as ourselves , if you can not fall in love with yourself, for who you are , then you’re up shit creek …
I thought to myself: We need to recapture what it means to enjoy time alone—for no other purpose than reconnecting with who we are and what the fuck we’re doing. Even if we don’t really know what we’re doing.
Getting lost and finding our way through a “broken shoe” moment is, in itself, problem-solving—navigating less-than-graceful exits and embracing the chaos. Because those are the stories that are real. When you tell your authentic stories, you light up a room because it’s you, and it’s real—even if you’re a cheap dickhead.
So, in a way, I eat my words… and the rest of my spicy nuts. There is something useful in this god-awful show MAFS—even if it’s just the synthetic version of authenticity.
Take it for what it is. Just don’t forget to let yourself get lost and then find your way again in the real world—because that’s when the real you comes alive.
Love you all xxxx Much love from Maz
marilyntuna.art 