1960s Melbourne
I was born in an inner-suburban 1960s Melbourne suburb. It was an ordinary ex-worker’s cottage that had seen better days, but for my Greek migrant parents, it was all they could afford on their factory wages.
I was too young to know that beyond our little wooden house, people were thoroughly modern and groovy. In my later years, I bemoaned that the 1960s and all the peace, love, and mung beans passed me by. I made up for it by living in the 1970s with gusto, but that is a story for another time.
“Out there is Australia…”
Like all immigrant families, my parents were desperate to maintain their values and pass on their cultural traditions to us. They wanted us to fit into Australia and respect the country that had given them a safe place to be, but remembering who we were and where we came from was uppermost in their minds.
“Out there is Australia, in here is Greece” was the constant refrain when my siblings and I spoke English or did something particularly Australian (like walk barefoot or dye our hair with peroxide).
“…in here is Greece”
When you stepped into our house you stepped into a world of ancient myths and superstitions, broody-moody collections of Greek Orthodox religious icons from the Byzantine era, music made from bouzoukis and clarinets and food and cooking that would make a chef swoon.
My mother’s marriage dowry
My greatest love however was all handcrafted intricately stitched treasures made as part of my mother’s marriage dowry. I spent countless days, weeks, and months fascinated by the impossibly small stitches in the embroideries, the crocheted doilies that could not possibly have been made by a human (yet they were), handstitched, monogrammed sheets that were so crisp and white they could blind you, and elaborate cutwork handmade curtains and bedcovers.
These memories fueled a lifelong quest to research, remake and reimagine the wonders of my little Greek-Australian world.
