The omens are good as Tash and I touch down in Melbs, I’m a bit giggly as I’m a Melbourne virgin. Yep, it’s my first trip. So sue me. Anyways, first thing we see when we get off the plane is a massive Olympic sign declaring “Good Luck Emma” - damn straight. Welcome to Melbourne.

We’re picked up in style by the flyest limo driver ever, graffiti and BMX legend Kid Paris C2F DMA, (see more here) and we drive straight to the paint spot, (after a quick, inner-city, grafitti walls tour) where Tash & Paris have secured a wall, and no shit, the laneway is off Emma Street.

Fucking OMENS man! It’s the complete Melbourne immersion experience and I’m falling in love with this city. Totally pumped for the Carbon Festival launch party which promises to be VIP. Our expectations are high, my heels are higher. So stoked cause I get to rock my fake pink fur jacket (a redundant accessory in Brisbane).

We hit the venue, Roxanne Parlour somewhere in the city. We’ve brought our weekend party buddies with us and we’re shocked that they’re slugged $30 entry for a club that is barely bumping let alone jumping.

Let’s get this out of the way quickly so I can move onto gushing about how much I loved the festival - that party sucked balls. A VIP party suggests that I get at least one free drink. Perhaps a canapé. Nuh. Expensive drinks and a slow dance floor equalled a dull soiree. Where was the awesome multi-media show reel of the upcoming speakers? Where was the art? Carbon guest Neil Armstrong DJed, and he was dope, but I wasn’t too into new Fool’s Gold signing Party Supplies (don’t ever blame the equipment, kid), despite the fact that my editor was having some 80’s Molly Ringwald revival moment as she danced drunkenly like an extra from Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

Tash was a big fan of his retro-electro dance thang, so obviously I’m the hacked out loser with bad taste. I dunno. Maybe it was first day at summer camp jitters, everyone was kinda wired and stand-offish and there seemed to be a lot of photographers. But a lot of the Carbon guests did arrive to press the flesh and smoke ciggies with us, so the ice was broken.

Time to pop some cherries, bitches.Saturday dawns brilliant blue and crystalline - a perfect Melbourne morning, so we decide to make a quick detour to Topshop for lace trim ankle socks and gold hot pants before we hit Federation Square for Day One.

First up was the New Media Takeover featuring Joy Yoon (The New Order), Eugene Kan (Hype Beast), Nic Fensom (Sneeze) and Richard Dryden (Mass Appeal) - I was particularly psyched to attend this seminar. I’m a publishing whore from way back, and I’ve worked nearly every side of the fence. Media is changing, dramatically. It’s not just the evolution of social media or the move towards digital consumption, the physical art of printing has been revolutionised in the last decade. Publishers, advertisers and editors are all in the same boat here. I’m just gonna come out and say it - Joy Yoon shits me. And I’m allowed to say that. I’m blogging. I was OK with her clever clogs writer shtick til she started harping on about “the writer losing their voice” - STFU, what voice? When you get paid to write, you can have an opinion, but overall, you are a vessel for the ideology of who you’re writing for. Before the Internet, we used to publish dirty little thoughts and opinions in underground rags and they would always bite us on the ass. I got blacklisted by a major promoter because of something one of my freewheeling freelancers wrote. So no. Advising starry eyed journalism grads to say “fuck you” to their editors and follow their hearts is kinda misleading. Like I care what an ex-model thinks anyway.  Nic Fensom was totes up my alley - guy was crusty and kinda rude but knew his shit and felt authentic. He made the important point that if you wanna be a taste maker, someone who shoulders mass responsibility (like Hype Beast honcho Eugene Kan), then it’s a damn job. And it aint all beer and skittles. The art of balancing advertiser needs and reader driven content is something that can only be learnt by experience and it’s a thin fucking line between being a whore for the advertising dollar and publishing the content that matters. While researching this article, I popped over to the Hype Beast site. I was greeted by a full screen ad from a major video game producer spruiking their latest game. Whoring: you’re doing it right. I still clicked through to look at the latest Givenchy hightop sneakers, so we’re all whores. Game won by the advertisers. There is no new media takeover, cause its all a moot point if you have no money. But try to be authentic.

www.hypebeast.com www.sneezemag.com www.massappeal.com

A few quick beers and we’re back for Seminar 2 - misleadingly titled Commerce of Creativity as few panelists wanted to stay on topic for this one. The otherworldly tone was set by Faith47 and her husband/partner-in-crime Daleast sporting some burqa meets ninja inspired facial camouflage. They do some hardcore shit and I was completely mesmerized and inspired by the haunting, poignant and surreal presentation of their art.

As artists, their work is both ferocious and evocative, but it was their commitment to capturing emerging street poetry and social dialogue scribbled on walls that floored me. I finally understand tagging. Which is good, as Chaz Bojorquez is like THE original tagger.

What an amazing man, what an amazing life in art. Described as a tagger, a graffiti artist and a calligrapher, Bojorquez made a huge amount of sense, describing how he makes commercial decisions without sacrificing his soul. And his attention to detail, the absolute concentration he summons to perfectly craft every single letter he creates was a breathtaking lesson in what any creative soul must learn: the art of discipline. Total font porn.

I was also blown away by Jasper Wong - I completely love his pop bright cartoon kitsch creations. I love his recurring motifs: Mr T, the baby doll dress, the severed hands, the penises, all rendered in candy pink and electric blue.

Wong also made sense, he does a lot in community art education and supports emerging artists through his gallery, making the point that an artist should always do more and give back. This seminar ended with exhibitions from Wong and Bojorquez plus a rather weird but endearing boozy encounter with Ricky Powell - another recurring motif of our weekend which earnt us boss rep’s as Ricky wranglers.

www.faith47.com www.daleast.com www.chazbojorquez.com www.jasperwong.com

Saturday night was the VIP Puma Party for the launch of their new Bunyip footwear designed exclusively for PUMA by Sneaker Freaker - open bar, gorgeous people, cool venue, free food, that’s how you throw a fucking party.

The legend of Bunyip  is deeply embedded within the Australian psyche. Clouded in mystery and intrigue, this ‘Evil Spirit” lurks in muddy swamps and billabongs, creeping out under cover of darkness to cause all manner of rowdy trouble.

Whatever the truth, the original source of the legend is credited to ancient Aboriginal mythology.

At the party we were delighted to meet the Acclaim Magazine crew, they’re a passionate bunch and all their hard work behind the scenes has paid off. Kudos Acclaim! Lots of other Carbon folk were in attendance (including the Funky Uncle) and conversation flowed thick and fast, like the booze in the last hour before the free bar closed.

www.sneakerfreaker.com www.puma.com.au www.acclaimmag.com

Sunday morning was a little seedier then expected, but we Brisbane bitches know how to handle our scandal. We did some shopping at the Sneaker Freaker convention, hooked up with some Instagram buddies (Cheers 1line! Crime does indeed pay in mad ways!) and downed coffee before the morning session.

This session focussed on the Evolution of an Idea featuring Neil Armstrong (DJ/Adidas), Huw Bennett (Vanishing Elephant) and Michael Yabut aka Mega (Black Scale).The message here was work, work and when you think you can’t take any more, bitch, you better keep working. All four panellists share single minded determination and served to remind the creative optimists in the room that cash is nice, and an idea is nice, but success comes from working your ass off and making bold, illogical decisions regularly. For the kids in attendance who are just starting out, this was probably a really important message for them to understand – no-one gives a fuck about your degree, you are only as good as your current idea. So make it happen.

www.djneilarmstrong.com www.vanishingelephant.com www.black-scale.com

More beer and the Rickster for lunch and laughs before back to the final session of the day…..

Visual Saturation with power bloggers 13th Witness, Yimmy Yayo and the enfant terrible himself Ricky Powell. Straight up, it’s obvious that shit is pretty loose for not only the panellists but for attendees. Giggles are catching and the Rickster is a force that cannot be contained by man or hype beast alone.

13th Witness has a famous dad. He may or may not be an asshole depending on who you speak to, but boy does he understand Instagram and societies visual addiction.

Personally, I like his whole Emperor wearing no clothes in-joke, and yeah, I know he does other important artistic stuff,  I just dig his whole iPhone only aesthetic - that we are all photographers now and ‘art‘ as a concept is relative. It‘s amazing he got a word in edgewise, with the Rickster in fine primary school form.

To say I was excited to listen to Yimmy Yayo would be an understatement. Try full-fledged damp-on. He has a cult following, and I like being in cults. A visual blogger with a background in advertising, he’s a sought after photographer, popular with the fashion set and my new geek crush. I am so into this guy that I don’t even hate myself for just writing the words “visual blogger”. After copping shit from my BF about my addiction to Instagram and my assertion that I was not only engaged with popular culture, but actively participating, it was so validating to hear a smart, cute boy say it. He has stripped away all commentary from his blog Visual Crack for the Ocular Fiend to give people all they need - a 1.8 second freak-out before moving onto the next visual. Read my lips: #iwillmakeyayoloveme

The star attraction of course was Ricky Powell - the original social commentator who has a right place, right time knack for snapping celebs and artists in their natural habitat (New York, lol). Honestly, there’s not much I can say about Powell apart from this - he is a true eccentric artist. A genuine visionary who manages the job of being Ricky Powell exceedingly well. I’ve been around celebrities before, way bigger stars then Powell, but he has that rare quality where you feel sucked into his vortex. His photos are amazing but his speech was  fucking hilarious, I was laughing so hard I had to leave the room because I started choking and was afraid I might pee my pants.  I was almost pimped out to him, but that’s a completely different story. We have mad love for you Uncle Ricky!

www.13thwitness.com www.blog.yimmyyayo.com www.rickypowell.com

The weekend ended with a live exhibition presented by Ironlak AKA spray paint love-in, featuring Chaz Bojorquez, Jasper Wong and Aussie boys Vans the omega and Sirum – as the fumes filled the Atrium, new Instagram friends were added and we sadly said goodbye to a filthy, dirty,  awesome birthday research weekend in Melbourne.

I lost my voice and left most of my knickers in Spotswood, but gained some much needed inspiration and motivation. And some killer hot pink Sharpie markers.

Carbon Festival Approval Rating? 9/10 - cause nothing in life is perfect.

Emma Jane DirtyLove13

(follow me on Instagram: @divajane76)