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The Bottz Collective


Like the blood of the ancient mystical dragons, the Bottz Collective was cultivated over millennia. Through the myths of our ancestors and the tales of our grandparents, the legacy of the Bottz Collective was handed down, a magnificent tapestry.


Such a legacy was fortified through generations of determined thinkers. It was proud with the dignity of successful academia, which was championed by the grand Bottz. A merchant banker, he docked his ship in the harbours of Auckland city, and established a new wing in the extended Bottz Collective. It was an active wing indeed, and the five proceeding companions in the Bottz Collective went on to become businessman, lawyers, doctors and engineers. They would each go on to champion their own wings of the Bottz Collective.

Mark Botting - the eldest of the five children - was commissioned as the 'Auditor General' of the Bottz Collective, and planted his flag in the fertile grounds of Central Auckland City. He recruited Susan Partridge of Partridge Parlours, and they came together to plant the 3 seeds. Sipping wine on rocking chairs, they patiently awaited the day that the seeds would germinate, and bring rise to the next generation of the Bottz Collective flag-bearers!


Three renegades spurted from the undergrowth in succession, each causing havoc in the Bottz Collective inner circle.

First was Daniel, an unabashed spastic, stirring the waters from the first moment he arrived. Next was me, Josh, a little monkey that was stealing all the bananas. And then 8 years later came Sarah, a mini jar of hazelnut that didn't want to be spread of toast.

Mum had a rule delicate like a vase. "You are to never get tattoos!" She told us.

Daniel broke it. Sinner!


Both Mark and Susan expected grand things from me at the college of Hospitality, but I blatantly steered my ship in direction of the arts. Heretic!


Sarah was playing this 'puff the misses red dragon' card pretty well, but I have suspicions that she is always sharpening her dagger in the silence of the castle curtains. Mongrel!


Law breakers! Rogues! Who were these 3 mischievous keas to take up rulership of the Bottz Collective, and carry the banner of Bottz forth?



As the middle child, I grew up in the cradle of the family and became quite skeptical of the Bottz Collective's ways. They were grounded and entrepreneurial, rich with the boons of their generation. But I was tasting something in the wind - it was the nectar of a new age nipping my whiskers. I realised that the old generations' ways would soon be outdated. And if the Bottz Collective remained in Auckland, then the ancient tapestry carried forth by my father would be choked by the thick concrete city and the gridlock traffic trying to squeeze through it.

My intuition told me to follow the beauty of Nature, so I fled to Queenstown in the South Island, scouting a new theme for the Bottz Collective. I used the college of Hospitality Management as a clever decoy, to make it appear as if I was firmly establishing myself in the Hospitality world. But I was secretly going for the immense beauty of the South Island. After a year of wayfaring the mountains, mother hen's 50th anniversary with Life was just around the bend. I thought it would be a perfect excuse to rope the Bottz Collective inner circle into my world.

It was risky, but I pitched the idea to them over the phone. They agreed, but only so long as the Grand Bottz attended this gathering too. "So be it", I replied. When the occasion was up next on the calendar, the Bottz troop arrived in Queenstown through ice winds and gale. They were immediately entranced by its beauty - it looked like my plan was working.

We held a Bottz council at Vudu Cafe on the Queenstown waterfront, and I was confronted by the the almighty Bottz overlords. They eyed me and my colourful jacket up and down, and I was worried that they could see right through me; that they already sniffed out my business. It felt like I was in the Dragons Den! I was just about to explain to Granddad Bottz that I had steered away from Hospitality Management and instead turned to the arts. But I couldn't seem to meddle with his cheeky grin.


Unbeknownst to the upper Bottz Collective, their journey to Queenstown actually harboured the secret intentions of the Bottz Brothers. For years, Daniel Bottz had been investigating his own themes for the next generation of Bottz Collective, exploring the insides of fashion, tattoos and self expression. We arranged a private meeting to discuss our ideas, and to devise an action plan that could see the uprising of the new age of Bottz!

So, we snuck away to a secret alleyway bar in Queenstown - The Bunker - and conspired against the old ways of the Bottz Collective, swirling cocktails and nibbling on olives. We agreed that the new generation of the Bottz Collective would see a flourishing of fashion, style, and the arts.


Realising that the Bottz fathers were almighty and powerful, however, we needed a way to intrude their subconscious minds without them ever realising it. How would we do it?

With his outfits and my camera!














It just looked like a bit of harmless fun. But actually, we were clever rascals invading the minds of the older generation with our flashy new ways. The Bottz fathers were mesmerised by the unending beauty of Queenstown, and our cunning plan was working.

And just when the Bottz Brothers were about to see their victory, our father sniffed something oddly peculiar about our cocky behaviour. All of a sudden, he whipped out a camera, and declared war!


Olympus versus Canon! The almighty Bottz hit me with a powerful shot.

I strike back!


But it wasn't enough.

Damn, it looks like he beat us again.



We needed to re think our plan.



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