Claire Mabey and Lyric Waiwiri-Smith swap notes after staring into the crystal orbs of Te Papa’s Vivienne Westwood & Jewellery exhibition.

Lyric Waiwiri-Smith: Claire, not that we’re, like, obsessed or anything, but we’ve both seen this show twice now. So, after admiring 550 pieces of jewellery from four decades twice over, I’m wondering if you’ve settled on a favourite era of Vivienne?

Claire Mabey: Definitely not obsessed but I am thinking I need to go back for a third time to fully appreciate it all, you know? After some mulling, I think the era that impressed me the most is the Roman Age. That breast plate. I would like to try it on. It’s just so… not jewellery like I’ve ever known it before. And I’m a sucker for the transgressive. Also old stuff. I love the antiquities and Vivienne’s bronze pieces, the ones that look like they were recently unearthed at Pompeii, make me feel like we’re looking at actual treasure. I also loved the skull faces in the clam shells, and the choker made of snails. It’s so beautiful while also making me shiver imagining the slimy trail on my collarbone. Not that they’re real snails but they sure are lifelike. 

What about you? What’s your favourite era?

LWS: Honestly, I think I just love all of her and her big brain. I love any kind of jewellery that is shaped like something else and appears totally impractical – like the snail shaped necklace from her Summer/Spring 2000 collection (if I had a first born, I would sell them for that) or the chain-mail headpiece, which I reckon I could rock to a flat party in Te Aro pretty well. I think when we think of Vivienne, the first image that comes to our mind is of the Queen of Punk. But I really really enjoyed seeing the softness in her work – the matching Athena necklace and earrings, and those corsets – as well as her DIY era with the accessories made from Coke cans. I can’t think of anyone else who strikes that balance of high brow and low brow so well.

CM: The exhibition is almost overwhelming isn’t it: I had no idea that there was so much jewellery. I think the overall impression on me was that we were in the presence of a powerhouse creative brain that never stopped evolving and trying new materials and styles. But one of the highlights for me was actually that video of Westwood talking about the influence of the Wallace Collection on her work. She’s so upright and beautifully dressed (of course) and has that Fanta-coloured hair, and the cupid’s bow lips. But she sounds like she could be on Coronation Street. I’m not sure if this is accurate or not but I get the impression that Westwood managed to cross over class lines, even art lines, by taking inspiration from these really high-brow art works and creating new forms that smashed all ideas of where art belongs, and to who it can belong. 

LWS: Oh, the whole set up of that video was just *chef’s kiss*. It definitely feels like a “something for everyone” kind of show – I went (the first time) with my dad who, bless him, isn’t exactly into fashion. He was very confronted by all the phallic-shaped jewellery, and I think there was a bracelet that just said “SEX” which set him off on some tangent about weirdo art people (I kind of blocked him out). But goddamn, did he love that orb room, with the glass boxes and the tens of little Westwood orbs morphed into bird cages or coloured bright yellow or deep green. I feel like I could go into a trance in that room.

CM: Bless your dad!! I loved the penises. So many hidden among the jewels. Te Papa could do a penis treasure hunt. I think your dad experience is part of what makes this show so fun – going with other people and finding out how divergent or similar your tastes are. There’s so much to imagine you might look great in lots of opportunities for “you could pull that off” or “that SEX bracelet was made for you”. But yes that orb room! I wasn’t prepared for it at all! It was mesmerising – maybe because after rooms of full of such diverse pieces this room is just the one form in a thousand different ways. They reminded me of universes or solar systems or UFO gatherings. So many little faves among them. I want an orb tattoo. 

LWS: UUUGGGHHH I want an orb tattoo too! I reckon that would make me look like the ultimate Gen Z fashion girlie. But one thing I want even more is my own lil orb (I mean, I want everything on display, but I also unfortunately have bills to pay). That’s my one big criticism: where is the gift shop? Sorry, this is so materialistic of me, but after seeing the exhibition I really want to own a piece of Vivienne, too. 

CM: Hard agree! We were primed to exit through the gift shop! I was so jacked up on jewels and just plain inspired by the energy of VW’s creative outpouring that I was ready to spend coin I can’t afford on a trinket. Also feel there’s an opportunity for a pop-up local jewel shop. So many amazing Aotearoa designers that could be pulled together. Also, I would love a print of the photo of Westwood with that tiger. What a queen. 

What did you think of the flash opening party we went to?

LWS: Well, having just moved to Wellington, it was fun to see the much mythologised artsy rich-listers on the prowl. I still don’t know how you can get rich off of art – someone should tell me the secret. Anyway, I spent a lot of the time next to the chocolate fountain indulging in the marshmallows, pineapples and strawberries. They even had little orb-shaped chocolates which I really regret not slipping into my handbag for later (or … for keepsies?). To quote Aretha Franklin, BEAUTIFUL gowns, and shout out to Jaxson Cook for acting like a real life mannequin on the lil runway erected in front of the exhibition and singing the house down.

CM: I was severely underprepared for the glamour of the evening. Even though I wore vintage Marilyn Sainty thank you very much. I was dazzled by the frocks and the presence of designer queen legend, Margarita Robertson, from Nom*D, who I was too starstruck to say anything proper to. But the whole shebang made me feel proud of Wellington. Especially in an environment where there’s been grumbling and mumbling about the arts not thriving / exhibitions not breaking even. This one feels like a burst of love for art-making and the artist behind it. When those two very beautiful men from the house of Vivienne Westwood spoke about how much they loved Te Papa and Wellington and how proud they were that the exhibition was starting in Aotearoa – I may or may not have welled up.

LWS: Maybe this windy little city isn’t so bad after all, eh?

CM: I bloody love it. And the exhibition reminded me why. We’re ready to dress up and celebrate a punk designer queen (who, I might add, was a passionate reader).

Basically, everyone must go. Spot the dicks! Gaze at the orbs!

Vivienne Westwood & Jewellery runs from now until April 27. Tickets are available online here. The schedule of events curated to go with the exhibition are online here. 

With every episode of Shortland Street from 1994 now on YouTube, Tara Ward returns to the shocking car crash that took the soap to a new level. 

In 1994, Jim Bolger was prime minister, a two litre bottle of milk cost $2.37, and Heavenly Creatures and Once Were Warriors ruled the box office. And across Aotearoa, local media were whipped up into a frenzy by rumours that Shortland Street was about to wave goodbye to two main characters, doomed to die in explosive scenes never seen before on the plucky young soap. 

Those deathly rumours sparked weeks of intense media speculation and sensational headlines. No Shortland Street storyline had garnered so much public attention before – not even Marj appearing on the Holmes show. In the lead-up to the March 25 episode, local media dined on every delicious detail. “A Flaming Mystery!” shouted the Sunday News, who snapped some sneaky photos of the crash scenes being filmed at a “secret location”. A Truth reporter described how they were “caught hiding in a bush with a long lens” in a clandestine effort to discover the identity of the victims. Moved on by the show’s producer, the “young news sleuth” still found a nearby property to take his photos from. 

Shortland Street publicists and producers stayed tight lipped, but the media chatter continued. The NZ Woman’s Weekly, Truth, TV Guide and Sunday News all covered the storyline, each trying to predict who would cark it. New Truth dedicated the entire front page (“Shortland St Shocker!”) to the storyline, as well as a full page article (“Street shock!”) announcing that Martin Henderson and Angela Dotchin’s characters (Stuart Neilson and Kirsty Knight) would be the unlucky victims. 

Those particular rumours became so persistent that the cast themselves made the rare move of getting involved. In February, a month before the episodes aired, The Sunday Star printed a photo of Dotchin wearing a white T-shirt with “NOT” printed on the back, confirming she and Henderson weren’t leaving the show. “Angela Dotchin and Martin Henderson have had it!” the accompanying item read. “We’re here to stay, and we’ve even got the T-Shirts to prove it.” 

It’s hard to imagine a similar level of interest in a TV death happening in 2025, but in 1994, Shortland Street dominated our local popular culture. An estimated 619,000 viewers watched the soap every night that year, nearly 20% of the population of Aotearoa at the time. The cast was a who’s who of New Zealand acting talent, including Henderson, Robyn Malcolm, Temuera Morrison, Tim Balme, Martin Czokas, Theresa Healey, Craig Parker and Elizabeth McRae.

Parker recently told The Spinoff that this era of Shortland Street launched the cast into a level of local stardom they couldn’t escape. “​​We were as famous as Tom Cruise, comparatively,” he said. “There was nowhere that you weren’t known.” We’d never known a New Zealand show like it, and clearly, we couldn’t get enough.

Rewatching the pivotal episode now – all of Shortland Street’s 1994 episodes were recently uploaded to YouTube  – the scenes remain as shocking as ever. The hospital staff had gathered at an Auckland beach to farewell Gina and Leonard Rossi-Dodds. Hospital CEO Michael McKenna inexplicably arrived in a tiny two-door Toyota Starlet, semi-topless waiters from Kennedy’s bar kept the alcohol flowing freely, and Dr Chris Warner, recently anointed the successful sperm donor daddy to nurse Carrie Burton’s triplets, got quietly sozzled.

Everyone was happy, except for one man: Steve Mills. For the past few weeks, the nurse had come down with a severe case of jealousy after discovering that Chris Warner’s sperm had been more successful than his own. Having to drive a drunk Chris home after the farewell party was the final straw. 

Steve’s yellow car hooned along that winding gravel road back to Ferndale, an angry man at the wheel and a drunk one in the back. Kirsty and TP were in the car too, but it was Chris who was the passenger from hell. He goaded Steve about not being the father of Carrie’s triplets, shouting in Steve’s face until the nurse lashed out and pushed Chris away. The car swerved out of control, hurtled off the road and over a bank, as Kirsty and TP’s terrified screams echoed through the air.  

Thirty years later, those scenes remain as powerful and evocative as they were in 1994. There’s Kirsty’s panicked tears as Steve resuscitates an unconscious Chris, Steve’s desperate attempts to free a trapped TP from the car, and the grim sight of the flames that begin to lick the engine. Ambulance officer Sam Aleni arrives on the scene, only to watch on helplessly as the car suddenly explodes in an enormous fireball, his wife and best friend still inside. 

These episodes – and the related media frenzy – set a high bar for Shortland Street, heralding the next three decades of spectacular disasters, serial killers and exploding volcanos. Not only was it the show’s first major tragedy, but it was the first time Shortland Street ended an episode without playing its iconic theme song. In the aftermath of the car crash, the credits roll as Sam sits alone in his flat. That fiery day ended in complete silence, and the rest of the country couldn’t stop talking about it. 

The 1994 season of Shortland Street is available on YouTube.