EDITORIAL: Vale to WA's queen of outrageous glamour, Eileen Bond
Settle back, take it easy. Long days spent in front of the telly, or doing some light gardening.
No one told Eileen Bond.
They wouldn't have dared.
She wasn't exactly the retiring type, in either sense of the word.
As a statement from her children announcing her death at age 87 said, the woman known best as Big Red had one speed: flat out.
'She touched countless lives with her generosity, humour, and unmistakable energy. She brought joy wherever she went,' John Bond, Craig Bond and Jody Fewster said.
It took a lot to overshadow the late businessman Alan Bond, but the woman he married when she was just 17 and pregnant with their first child managed to do it time and time again.
The West Australian last photographed Ms Bond in 2021. Clad in tight leather pants, and wearing a bright pink heart printed scarf and oversized sunglasses, dripping in jewels and of course with that hair no less fiery than it was in the 1980s, at 83 she remained Perth's undisputed heroine of outrageous glamour.
Because why the hell not?
She was perfectly capable of toning it down: she did so when meeting dignitaries including Pope John Paul II and US President Ronald Reagan after all.
But given the option, she'd rather go for the razzle-dazzle thank you very much.
She was the queen of doing exactly what she wanted to do, such as painting every room of her house in a different shade of pink. And not the inoffensive muted pink beloved by millennials but big, bold pinks as in your face as the woman herself.
'You can only paint a house pink if you live by yourself because if you lived with a man he wouldn't accept it,' she told The Sunday Times during a tour of her Peppermint Grove home in 2017.
It wasn't all swanky soirees and long lunches. Ms Bond's life had its share of tragedies. The death of her daughter Susanne in 2000, aged 41. The collapse of the Bond empire in the 1990s and the many scandals of her ex-husband, from whom she was divorced in 1992. And the 6m fall from a balcony in 1990 which saw her laid up in hospitals for four months and was the catalyst for her decades of fundraising for spinal injury research.
Ms Bond leaves behind her three surviving children, eight grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren and a reminder to us all to live life to the fullest. To be a little more sparkly.
Her unabashed flamboyance may seem somewhat anachronistic today, in an era where being seen to be out of touch is one of the gravest social crimes a person of high profile can commit.
But Ms Bond recognised her good fortune and was thankful for it. So rather than hide her diamante-encrusted light under a bushel, she shared it with the world, and was nothing but her true, authentic, ostentatious self.
With that light now out, Perth looks a little dimmer.
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His sourdough is baked with three different barleys including the New Norcia black barley carefully resurrected by late grain grower Roger Duggan; his smoked three-caviar tart features sturgeon, Murray River and Japanese flying fish roe; and the twice-baked three-cheese souffle couldn't have happened without the efforts of local cheesemakers Cambray, La Delizia Latticini and Halls Family Dairy. This year also marks Cole's third year as the big cheese at the Ritz-Carlton Perth's ground floor diner: a lofty riverside cathedral rich in azure, ochre and stone, plus the understated luxury that the global hotel group is famous for. (At the very least, the room is a welcome contrast to the garish Tron -like glow of Elizabeth Quay after dark.) These paint and building material choices are about more than just following brand guidelines. They're also some of the ways that Hearth celebrates its deep West Australian-ness. 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This deftly composed taco and its two-bite ilk are part of a new 'to-start' offering: snacky things that populate various tasting menus but can now be also ordered individually. (They're also offered next door at Hearth Lounge, the restaurant's seven-day bar and lounge offshoot.) Kangaroo gets cured, smoked and charred over the fire to yield a blushing tranche of fillet that's a pleasure to eat. (Shout out to the accompanying glossy, lip-sticking jus of roasted kangaroo tail and chicken wing.) I must admit, while Cole's cooking has always been big on technique and layered flavours, some of his earlier dishes felt bogged down by showy flourishes. Now that he's dialled back the frou frou touches and tightened up what's on the plate, his vision of modern (West) Australian cooking feels so much clearer and, most crucially, delicious. Fennel pollen, bush honey and a native herb salt put an Aussie spin on roast Wagin duck breast. To the side, a cutesy croquette of shredded duck meat made in the image of the Dutch crumbed meatball, bitterballen. Giving Pardoo wagyu oyster blade the low and slow treatment transforms this not especially glamorous cut into a melty paleolithic wonder while its ragu offsider makes a compelling argument for more cooks to slip their customers some (beef) tongue. Could the pumpkin and potato gratin on the menu's sole vego main have been crisper? Possibly. But judging by the endive braised in orange juice served with the duck, team Hearth's barbecuing range is more than just snags and chops. Grilled strawberries rendered fudgy by the hearth prove fruit and fire should catch up more often. A dapper mille-feuille comprising frilly plinths of puff pastry, hazelnut ice cream and native rivermint gel tastes like history's poshest mint Viennetta. Such fun throwbacks – plus the introduction of more flexible menus and large-format share proteins – speak to Hearth's efforts to position itself as a more accessible CBD dining option. Points for proactivity, but Hearth's pricing (still) puts it largely in special occasion territory, especially to those susceptible to menu upsells. Chinese-farmed Black Pearl caviar is sold by weight. Pay a supplement and get black truffle shaved over whatever dish you fancy: a flex that yields good TikTok content but doesn't always flatter this expensive seasonal ingredient. But like the saying goes, you get what you pay for. And if having someone rain black truffle on your camembert ice cream makes you happy, who am I to say otherwise? You do you. And if doing you involves commemorating a milestone or weaving some special into your life, Hearth needs to be on your radar. 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EDITORIAL: Vale to WA's queen of outrageous glamour, Eileen Bond
For most of us fortunate enough to make it that far in life, our 80s are a time of slowing right down. Settle back, take it easy. Long days spent in front of the telly, or doing some light gardening. No one told Eileen Bond. They wouldn't have dared. She wasn't exactly the retiring type, in either sense of the word. As a statement from her children announcing her death at age 87 said, the woman known best as Big Red had one speed: flat out. 'She touched countless lives with her generosity, humour, and unmistakable energy. She brought joy wherever she went,' John Bond, Craig Bond and Jody Fewster said. It took a lot to overshadow the late businessman Alan Bond, but the woman he married when she was just 17 and pregnant with their first child managed to do it time and time again. The West Australian last photographed Ms Bond in 2021. Clad in tight leather pants, and wearing a bright pink heart printed scarf and oversized sunglasses, dripping in jewels and of course with that hair no less fiery than it was in the 1980s, at 83 she remained Perth's undisputed heroine of outrageous glamour. Because why the hell not? She was perfectly capable of toning it down: she did so when meeting dignitaries including Pope John Paul II and US President Ronald Reagan after all. But given the option, she'd rather go for the razzle-dazzle thank you very much. She was the queen of doing exactly what she wanted to do, such as painting every room of her house in a different shade of pink. And not the inoffensive muted pink beloved by millennials but big, bold pinks as in your face as the woman herself. 'You can only paint a house pink if you live by yourself because if you lived with a man he wouldn't accept it,' she told The Sunday Times during a tour of her Peppermint Grove home in 2017. It wasn't all swanky soirees and long lunches. Ms Bond's life had its share of tragedies. The death of her daughter Susanne in 2000, aged 41. The collapse of the Bond empire in the 1990s and the many scandals of her ex-husband, from whom she was divorced in 1992. And the 6m fall from a balcony in 1990 which saw her laid up in hospitals for four months and was the catalyst for her decades of fundraising for spinal injury research. Ms Bond leaves behind her three surviving children, eight grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren and a reminder to us all to live life to the fullest. To be a little more sparkly. Her unabashed flamboyance may seem somewhat anachronistic today, in an era where being seen to be out of touch is one of the gravest social crimes a person of high profile can commit. But Ms Bond recognised her good fortune and was thankful for it. So rather than hide her diamante-encrusted light under a bushel, she shared it with the world, and was nothing but her true, authentic, ostentatious self. With that light now out, Perth looks a little dimmer.
