On the KZN North Coast, a new vision of coastal luxury is taking shape: one where the boundary between the home and the horizon simply ceases to exist. Imagine waking up on a Saturday morning. The sun is already climbing above the Indian Ocean, throwing long gold light across the water. You pad downstairs (barefoot, unhurried) and the house opens around you. Not because you've opened a door, but because the wall in front of you is glass. Floor to ceiling. Edge to edge. The se

A thick velvet curtain frames the entrance to the Tambourine restaurant on Harrington Street, where we have a dinner reservation. We are early. I reach out, tentatively, and draw back the curtain — the floor is empty but for a waiter bent over a table setting, making adjustments. I let the curtain fall again. “We are too early,” I hiss to my dining partner in a stage whisper.  Words: Mia McCarthy Alerted to our premature arrival, the staff falls into a well-choreographed rou

Lately, I’ve noticed a change in how people talk about the news. Not anger. Not outrage. Something quieter. A sentence that trails off rather than lands. I don’t read the news anymore.  At least, not like I used to. Sometimes it’s said with a shrug. Sometimes with guilt. Often with relief. Words: Penny Fourie I recognise the impulse, even though disengagement is not an option for me.I don’t encounter South Africa’s failu es through headlines alone. My work takes me into audit

I turn 31 this month. Apparently, that means it's time for some prescription-strength retinoids. They can cause a bit of peeling at first. But I've battled with my skin for years, so honestly? The idea of sloughing off my old one sounds fantastic. According to Chinese astrology, last year's Year of the Snake has been inviting exactly this—the serpentine shedding of the old to make way for the new. Now, as we move into the lunar new year, the legendary Fire Horse awaits us. Wh

“I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar.” Marc Antony in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar . Do I belong in South Africa?  Under the laws, yes. Of course. I was born in Parklands Hospital in Durban when Mandela was President. I’ve spent nearly all my life here. I own no other pet but a Green Mamba. As the Constitution has it, I’m welcome to stay for as long as I like, and I

They say that nothing happens by chance and if ever I wanted reassurance that the Universe is unfolding as it should, the unexpected gift that we received in the dying embers of last year gave me exactly that. Words: Dave Charles I will admit that I have been overly concerned with the reality of getting older lately and have become a bit of a recluse as a result. Life has carried on at its petty pace from day-to-day as the bard put it, without much happening to jolt me from m

It started with a promise. After winning the AFI (Africa Fashion International) Young Designer of the Year award in 2014 with a collection that he had made inside his mother’s garage in 2014, Rich Mnisi launched his first fashion label. He called the label OATH, a name that would serve as a covenant between himself and his late sister to have his work represent a personal commitment to always creating from a truthful place. In keeping with that covenant, it was only right tha

“I think that, at the heart of all my bodies of work there always lies the sense of belonging. Whether it is in this land, whether it is within yourself and also within the day-to-day routines.” Words: Dan Charles Not long after leaving her studio in Woodstock, my phone buzzed with a barrage of texts from the artist Alka Dass. She had sent me an assortment of screenshots and links to all of the poems that we had spent a good portion of the afternoon gushing over while drinki

How do you write a myth? With difficulty, I’ve found. It’s not that there is little to say about the one-time nightclub photographer Billy Monk. His short but spectacular life has spawned a veritable archive of hundreds of photographs and thousands of words, many of them rumours. Nevertheless, the abundance of the archive is refracted through an abruptly premature death, rendering the man a kaleidoscopic figure: never fixed, always colourful.  Words: Mia McCarthy  To start: