After the YWCA 'Open Your Purse' Event I was feeling in need of a new handbag for myself, of course I couldn't afford anything as luxurious in terms of brand, so I braved the frigid temperatures of last week and headed to Deerfoot Mall. I already had something particular in mind. I wanted something suitable for not only now but spring 2010 as well. My favorite bags so far that I have seen have been from Nina Ricci. Her spring line has (for me) been really on trend. The size, shape and embellishments are just right. I think the over sized Mary Kate and Ashley homeless person bags are over. For spring, keeping the fundamentals of your bag feminine with a strong shape and a slight touch of edge (chains straps, minimal studs) is really where it at. It's more about feeling light and sophisticated, less about making a bold and obvious statement.
Of course I managed to find what I wanted for my budget. I am quite skilled in that area now. more of my holiday shopping while I was there. The best part was I ended up with more for myself than I had originally intended. While shopping for small gifts for people from the office and stocking stuffers for the family, I took full advantage of buy one get one half off sales and BOGO's. I would give the first item and I considered the second one that was free a gift for myself! The hard part came after the shopping when I had to return home. When taking transit in ridiculously cold weather, handling multiple shopping bags is less than desirable. However these days I try less to complain and let things like that affect me. Certain things in life just aren't worth the stress when you put it into perspective. For example: Everyday when I go to work, at the same spot, at the same time, There is this man walking with two little boys ( I would imagine taking them to school). He requires two arm braces to walk. It looks as though every step is a struggle. I see him everyday, regardless of the snow, the ice, the cold. I can't imagine how he does it. So if people like that, or like the women from the YWCA, can survive their situations, I really have no right to complain about a few bags weighing me down.
Since that shopping trip, I have been packing and re packing. Undecided if I should leave room in my suitcase to bring more back. Thinking about the clothes I gave away and could reclaim. When it comes to the past though whether it is a pair of jeans or a man, I think it is best to move on. I never did try to find my ex- the photog- on Facebook. Just like my clothes I left behind, all I can really do is wish him luck and hope he has a good home and somebody appreciates him. I think it really is better that way, in terms of packing anyways. I leave for Toronto this Friday, returning on the 29th. I still have no idea what I will do with myself for NYE. Cher is going with her BF to Hotel Arts for a masquerade ball, I was invited to Vinyl, C.O.P. and a few others as well but I really don't know what to expect from any of those parties. I may just forgo the festivities and stay home. It would save me alot of money. Which in typical style I am always short on.
Kath has informed me she can get me in anywhere and not to worry about tickets or anything. however, I would feel like a third wheel joining her and her newly acquired piece of jewellery. Her BF proposed to her last week. We found the dress two days later at ETHOS. It was one of the most enjoyable shopping experiences ever. She is so cut throat when dealing with salespeople who have attitude. I guess she doesn't make all her money from being a push over. So to join her and her fiance as they cling to each other in their newly discovered bliss... Might not be for me. Maybe I will just stay in Ontario for New Years. I guess anything is possible. I do feel as though I should start 2010 with a bang, in grandiose out of control style.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Open your purse
What’s better than a designer handbag? A gorgeous male model displaying it. That’s exactly what we found last Friday at the YWCA's Open your purse event at Hotel Arts. Right after work we headed over to the event that started at 6:00pm. I don't know how these well to do women manage to pull it off but it seemed that only a handful of the some 200 guests were in casual attire. Myself only having time to re apply some mascara and lip gloss, The rest dressed in cocktail dresses and recently coiffed hair and fully done make-up. I imagine they must be hockey players wives or the type of woman who is certainly not working the 9-5 job. The bags were stunning, from the Elisha Cuthbert donated and signed to the Fergie. I would have bid and tried to win each but my dire circumstances only allowed me to glance and the bags... I am referring to the purses not the mens'. Kath however attempted to bid on two yet was outdone by another ferocious bidder. Beyond the material aspect of the evening, the theme and message of the night was clear and relevant to all the female attendees. Domestic abuse. Hitting on the somewhat current topic of Rhianna and Chris Brown. Stories were shared from victims to educate and drive home the importance of supporting foundations like the YWCA that assist women in their most strenuous and life changing events. I was glad to have taken part in it. It truly shows that this is an issue that can affect anyone at any time and the effects can be far reaching, from the individual victims to their children and families. During the later half of the night after the auction was over and women began to leave with their prizes, I was introduced to Kaths Stylist from SHE Apparel, who in turn introduced me to a couple members from Energy 101.5. I thanked them for the shout out they game me on twitter and Facebook that one day. They of course had no clue who I was or what I was talking about but were gracious and pretended they did. We exchanged pleasantries and common first impression statements. When asked about myself and explaining I came from TO, what I do fro work, who I was wearing and finally where I was living, I felt embarrassed to tell them I had just moved into Kaths (which for the record has been awkward and I lost out on my damage deposit from my old place for late notice on vacating but the price is right and her tub is huge!) I looked and spoke radiantly, Kath tried to set me up with the few straight men that were in attendance and single. I think the total was two. Before we left for the night with our gift bags, I caught a familiar face.... An ex from back home. Not necessarily a bad break-up. He was a photographer who I use to see for 2 years, attended many a fashion show and once to Montreal fashion week with him. We ended the relationship as he was moving to Vancouver for a job op with a magazine. Like most couples we played the staying touch card but never did. He looked good. I looked better. I don't think he caught my gaze as I walked out. I wonder if I can fid him on Facebook.
Friday, November 6, 2009
FML
I was only kidding myself. Thinking coming here would solve anything. Unfortunately I have relapsed and once again find myself in debt. Somewhere around the point of 5 grand maybe more. I haven't received my October statement. Not that it matters as I went overboard for Halloween too. I am certain it has only jumped up an additional couple of hundred since then. It's not all bad though. No, not at all (note any sarcasm?). The first three months here living in denial and foolish notions were great until I realized any kind of significant change or attaining a quality of life comparable to what I had is hopeless. Honestly, my empty apartment, empty closest, empty social life. Dealings with men that are nothing but games and being strung along; hopes high and heads low. Even work is turbid. I've been striving for some sort of balance, some modicum of happiness therein. I just can't seem to get it right and really I am done with trying. Let my credit cards max out and then I will just file for bankruptcy. All these large corporations and everyone else have been receiving bailouts for their stupid mistakes worth millions, why the hell shouldn't I for a couple thousand? At least then I will have temporary moments of felicity.
How did this happen? Besides the trunk sales from fashion week, I went out to the unicorn with Katherine and a couple of her friends from her social circle. Even though it felt familiar, the setting, the women and conversation, I felt out of place. I looked great of course, was dressed in my labels which, of course they all recognized and appreciated. I of course recognized the same on them. The only difference was one of us was a lie. They invited me to come shopping with them the following day at Holts. Apparently it had just been renovated and they all love it. I told them I hadn't been yet and I guess that was unacceptable and outlandish to hear from me. So I agreed to go. Long story short, they were all shopping, buying, just like I used to with my ladies back home. I stumbled and was eaten alive by old demons. I've repeated this over and over for the last few weeks. Thrown all the good ( if there was any) I have done out the window. Whether it be at the shops on 17th, back at Holts or anywhere I was that anyone else was shopping. When I was with Cher, we would shop. When I was out with Katherine we would shop. With Jen shop.
I knew each time I signed what was going on. to say I didn't care would be a lie but
On Wednesday this week, I ran into Katherine again outside of "She apparel" on 17th. Almost quite literally ran into her, she was exiting and I wasn't looking. She realized I wasn't in the greatest of moods and demanded to know why, we went across to the Starbucks and sat down. I confessed my sins in a blubbering mess. My $30.00 Chanel mascara didn't run though. I felt like a fool, a child, a complete mess. A hot mess none the less. Katherine looked sympathetic and contemplative. Then she spoke,
" why don't you move in with me?" she asked. " Yes! that's what you will do, you will move in with me and pay little in rent, then you will come with me to a benefit event I was invited to this afternoon. It won't cost you anything."
I began to compose myself and started to shake my head forming a polite yet grateful resignation of her offer. Before I go much of it out Katherine cut me off
"Spare me your excuses and false pride, I am more or less responsible for getting you in this predicament, I can at least help you get out of it. You know I have the room and its just sitting there empty. So make arrangements with your landlord, hire some movers and just deal with it!"
I really didn't know what to say. I was shocked, a little humiliated to be accepting the help.
I didn't have to say anything Kath continued on, "So this benefit I was invited to, Just a bit ago when I was in "She" getting fitted for a few new items, I always see the same sales associate, usually call ahead to make sure she is in, but I digress. I was given a pair of tickets to the event as I am such a loyal client of hers. It's on the 20th at Hotel Arts. Its called...." she paused as she dug through her bag and retrieved the tickets "Open Your Purse, with funds raised going to the YWCA. Apparently there will be some gorgeous bags auctioned off and some hot men displaying them."
I really couldn't argue with that.
How did this happen? Besides the trunk sales from fashion week, I went out to the unicorn with Katherine and a couple of her friends from her social circle. Even though it felt familiar, the setting, the women and conversation, I felt out of place. I looked great of course, was dressed in my labels which, of course they all recognized and appreciated. I of course recognized the same on them. The only difference was one of us was a lie. They invited me to come shopping with them the following day at Holts. Apparently it had just been renovated and they all love it. I told them I hadn't been yet and I guess that was unacceptable and outlandish to hear from me. So I agreed to go. Long story short, they were all shopping, buying, just like I used to with my ladies back home. I stumbled and was eaten alive by old demons. I've repeated this over and over for the last few weeks. Thrown all the good ( if there was any) I have done out the window. Whether it be at the shops on 17th, back at Holts or anywhere I was that anyone else was shopping. When I was with Cher, we would shop. When I was out with Katherine we would shop. With Jen shop.
I knew each time I signed what was going on. to say I didn't care would be a lie but
On Wednesday this week, I ran into Katherine again outside of "She apparel" on 17th. Almost quite literally ran into her, she was exiting and I wasn't looking. She realized I wasn't in the greatest of moods and demanded to know why, we went across to the Starbucks and sat down. I confessed my sins in a blubbering mess. My $30.00 Chanel mascara didn't run though. I felt like a fool, a child, a complete mess. A hot mess none the less. Katherine looked sympathetic and contemplative. Then she spoke,
" why don't you move in with me?" she asked. " Yes! that's what you will do, you will move in with me and pay little in rent, then you will come with me to a benefit event I was invited to this afternoon. It won't cost you anything."
I began to compose myself and started to shake my head forming a polite yet grateful resignation of her offer. Before I go much of it out Katherine cut me off
"Spare me your excuses and false pride, I am more or less responsible for getting you in this predicament, I can at least help you get out of it. You know I have the room and its just sitting there empty. So make arrangements with your landlord, hire some movers and just deal with it!"
I really didn't know what to say. I was shocked, a little humiliated to be accepting the help.
I didn't have to say anything Kath continued on, "So this benefit I was invited to, Just a bit ago when I was in "She" getting fitted for a few new items, I always see the same sales associate, usually call ahead to make sure she is in, but I digress. I was given a pair of tickets to the event as I am such a loyal client of hers. It's on the 20th at Hotel Arts. Its called...." she paused as she dug through her bag and retrieved the tickets "Open Your Purse, with funds raised going to the YWCA. Apparently there will be some gorgeous bags auctioned off and some hot men displaying them."
I really couldn't argue with that.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Surpise Of The Century
OH MY GOD! really? shut up! Friggin UNbelievable! I was walking DT yesterday, walking past Holt Renfrew, which apparently just remodeled, walking past their store front windows gazing into the glass at this other world that I came from. Each manequine in a distinctly gorgeous ensemble. As I moved past the second window I caught it; my own reflection. Like a ghost in that other world barely visible. Walking along a parrallel path to my own. Barely visible. My heart sank as I wondered if the path I currently tread will ever link back up with the path the girl in the glass was walking. As I moved beyond the display she dissapeared. I dared not to turn and enter. I was feeling vulnerable to consumption. I could never just look. My pocket virbrated. The text read "OMG Rach Energy just posted your blog online!!!" Whatever feelings of doubt and insecurity I had were immediatly banished. I jumped inside the next doorway, away from the cold. Logged onto Facebook and OMG they totally did! Rather than ask the questions of how and why I started texting everyone I knew about what happened. The best part is that I actually listen to the station and follow them online! So bizzare and out of this world. I was already content with the week from attending the opening shows for AB fashion week. They were great RTW accesable collections. Alala was lovely tapping into ladylike chic. Dutch Blonde was youthful and fun. Both worked with alot of color and print in different silhouettes. I truyl couldn't call a favorite as for each model that stomped it out I could see myself in need of her outfit for one event or another. Like all premiere events there we some glitches and bugs but that is certainly to be expected. I certainly hope this is going to be a recurring event in the city.
A Big THANK-YOU to anyone who checked my blog out yesterday! I hope you enjoyed. I never really thought it would receive many reads and I am actually kinda embarassed now that it has. So many people have read the intimate details of my life. If anyone is interested I am on twitter and update it when I post a new blog. Or they are on FB too.
Happy Thanksgiving to all. I'll be at friends on Sunday for dinner, Katherine, ( I don't think I have mentioned her before but she is amazing and was my escort to ABFashion Week) is hosting a dinner with a few other people who she says I should meet. So prior to Sunday I will be out searching for winter clothing this weekend. I left most of my winter wardrobe back in TO, currently there are some very warm, well dressed ladies there in my wool and fur. So completly unprepared for the cold to arrive so quickly I am in desperate need of hats, scarves, gloves and coats. I was invited via FB to a Thanksgiving weekend sale at Deerfoot Mall, so I will see if I can make it down there however, this is one shopping trip I am not looking 100% forward to. A perfect winter coat is so diffult to find. Granted the selection is endless however when it comes to a sublime wool that you can wear throughout the season, the pattern has to be just right. It's all in the details, the collar, the buttons, stitchin, tailoring, length, color, the actual wool itself. The accessories though! J'adore an extensive variety of gloves and scarves. The power of accessories is essential to keeping yourself thrilled with a garment that you have to wear in and out day to day. So I must face the cold and the plastic demons in my bag to ready myself for the coming months and for this dinner. Meeting new people always requires one to make the best first impression. The thing about first impressions is you only get one!
XO Rachel
A Big THANK-YOU to anyone who checked my blog out yesterday! I hope you enjoyed. I never really thought it would receive many reads and I am actually kinda embarassed now that it has. So many people have read the intimate details of my life. If anyone is interested I am on twitter and update it when I post a new blog. Or they are on FB too.
Happy Thanksgiving to all. I'll be at friends on Sunday for dinner, Katherine, ( I don't think I have mentioned her before but she is amazing and was my escort to ABFashion Week) is hosting a dinner with a few other people who she says I should meet. So prior to Sunday I will be out searching for winter clothing this weekend. I left most of my winter wardrobe back in TO, currently there are some very warm, well dressed ladies there in my wool and fur. So completly unprepared for the cold to arrive so quickly I am in desperate need of hats, scarves, gloves and coats. I was invited via FB to a Thanksgiving weekend sale at Deerfoot Mall, so I will see if I can make it down there however, this is one shopping trip I am not looking 100% forward to. A perfect winter coat is so diffult to find. Granted the selection is endless however when it comes to a sublime wool that you can wear throughout the season, the pattern has to be just right. It's all in the details, the collar, the buttons, stitchin, tailoring, length, color, the actual wool itself. The accessories though! J'adore an extensive variety of gloves and scarves. The power of accessories is essential to keeping yourself thrilled with a garment that you have to wear in and out day to day. So I must face the cold and the plastic demons in my bag to ready myself for the coming months and for this dinner. Meeting new people always requires one to make the best first impression. The thing about first impressions is you only get one!
XO Rachel
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Thoughts Before the Show
Michelle Williams looks absolutly adorable and twiggy-esque for the cover and editorial in this months Vogue. I got mine in the mail yesterday and the cover is fitting for the rest of the magazine. The issue portrays fashions as highly "accross the pond". Somehwat typical of fall to see that equestrian, english countryside feel. However if this isn't your vibe, the magazine also portrays the parisian edge of autumn. Over all though not Vogues best issue. Again it was compact and weighed less than the telephone book, signs of budget cuts and furgality were evident as many designers chose not to feature ads (St Johns, Elie Tahari, Etro, Roberto Cavalli all MIA). Even the ads for Nordstroms looked as though production costs were tightened. Still whimsical like a modern day Mary Poppins but not as vibrant. A Key note to mention though were the dresses. Coming closer and closer to the holiday season, therewill be a definate shift in what constitues formal partywear. Not to say the full length dress will be gone from sight but there is an uprising in the mentality that shorter dresses can be just as classy and acceptable for holiday partys. I think it is a fitting look for the times. Choosing the semi formal over the formal. No one wants to look like they are flaunting money or living a lifestyle they aren't these days.
I caught Proenza Schoulers S/S 2010 runway on TV this past weekend. Again like Balenciaga, not a huge shift from the trends for fall. There are alot of pieces that will carry you through and save on your shopping budget. Watching the show, it showed that the designers are right on track with what is going to be bred from fall this year and hot in Spring2010. A beautiful color palette. Nothing overly vibrant that would normally scream SPRING, a loser shilouhette for dresses that was still very feminine and strong, good mix of textiles and prints. Somewhat at times a bid of a 70's mod vibe with longer sleeves when pairing up seperates. It was an effortless easy looking collection, which is always in style for spring.
Now time for me to fess up about something. After doing a little more research on these H&M / Payless collections I came to realize the photos online Iwas viewing were right from the runway and NOT the RTW. So what this means is that I must hold any further verdict for a month until they are in store. I hate how they do that, show one thing on the runway and another in stores. Similiar but different. Almost like knockoffs of themselves. Regardless I will still be in the lines (which I am sure there will be) on the release date before the store opens. Ready to battle it out with anyone who gets in my way! Alot of women would avoid situations like this at all cost. The ones that love the clothes but hate the shopping and crowds. To them I Say fashion is brave! so must you be to!
Tonight I fully intend to be brave in regards to my fashion. The opening show for Alberta Fashion week that features two of the designers from Project Runway Canada; Adejoke Taiwo and Camille Prins. Both have a great deal of talent and produce modern, realistic RTW clothes.
I will be in a midnight blue Betsey Jonhson dress from 07, cropped,bomber style leather and jersey jacket I got last fall from a boutique in TO and I ended up buying a new pair of shoes.... I know sad face but it was absolutly necessary. Besides I had gone two weeks with a zero balance on my credit cards! They are a mixed medium, black suede and silver leather, ankle cut round toe shoe. Such a perfect balance between the flirty sophisticated side of the dress and the edge of the jacket. Tres Happy! They were only 100.00, which yes I could have used for something like setting up my cable or food or even maybe, radical idea, saved. Yet "I am a weapon of massive consumption, It's not my fault its how I'm programmed to function."
I function very well I might add. Always at maximum output.
I caught Proenza Schoulers S/S 2010 runway on TV this past weekend. Again like Balenciaga, not a huge shift from the trends for fall. There are alot of pieces that will carry you through and save on your shopping budget. Watching the show, it showed that the designers are right on track with what is going to be bred from fall this year and hot in Spring2010. A beautiful color palette. Nothing overly vibrant that would normally scream SPRING, a loser shilouhette for dresses that was still very feminine and strong, good mix of textiles and prints. Somewhat at times a bid of a 70's mod vibe with longer sleeves when pairing up seperates. It was an effortless easy looking collection, which is always in style for spring.
Now time for me to fess up about something. After doing a little more research on these H&M / Payless collections I came to realize the photos online Iwas viewing were right from the runway and NOT the RTW. So what this means is that I must hold any further verdict for a month until they are in store. I hate how they do that, show one thing on the runway and another in stores. Similiar but different. Almost like knockoffs of themselves. Regardless I will still be in the lines (which I am sure there will be) on the release date before the store opens. Ready to battle it out with anyone who gets in my way! Alot of women would avoid situations like this at all cost. The ones that love the clothes but hate the shopping and crowds. To them I Say fashion is brave! so must you be to!
Tonight I fully intend to be brave in regards to my fashion. The opening show for Alberta Fashion week that features two of the designers from Project Runway Canada; Adejoke Taiwo and Camille Prins. Both have a great deal of talent and produce modern, realistic RTW clothes.
I will be in a midnight blue Betsey Jonhson dress from 07, cropped,bomber style leather and jersey jacket I got last fall from a boutique in TO and I ended up buying a new pair of shoes.... I know sad face but it was absolutly necessary. Besides I had gone two weeks with a zero balance on my credit cards! They are a mixed medium, black suede and silver leather, ankle cut round toe shoe. Such a perfect balance between the flirty sophisticated side of the dress and the edge of the jacket. Tres Happy! They were only 100.00, which yes I could have used for something like setting up my cable or food or even maybe, radical idea, saved. Yet "I am a weapon of massive consumption, It's not my fault its how I'm programmed to function."
I function very well I might add. Always at maximum output.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Fall 09: Season For Fools
Fall 09: Season For Fools
A couple weeks have passed since my confounding incident with Derrick.. Since that time things have been anything but usual in that area. Before I touch on that though, I would like to go over just a couple things:
Starting with the VMA’s, I know, it’s old news now but I am not going to even touch the Kanye West and Taylor Swift issue. Instead, I would like to talk about Shakira and Pink who wound up in the same dress on the red carpet! Some one’s stylist is getting F-I-R-E-D. Speaking of same outfits, this next point really gets to me; Anna Wintour was caught wearing the same outfit twice on two separate occasions within the same month. (information courtesy of Perez) That’s four public appearances and only two outfits! Don’t get me wrong, for the every day woman that’s normal, that’s fine. Anna Wintour however, is not the everyday woman. I mean honestly she must have a closet in every single city she lands in. Some critics may say “well maybe her luggage was lost or delayed” to which I reply, do you honestly believe she flies commercial airlines and even if that was a possibility, she could walk into any boutique and have anything she wanted thrown at her feet as brown nosing sales staff fan her with palm leaves and hand feed her grapes. So Ms. Wintour, please be advised I do not wish to be encouraged by your attempt to relate to the modern day recessionista, nor do I appreciate your lack of effort to maintain the standards that you yourself made. Honestly I just bought my tickets to Alberta Fashion Week and I already have a tentative outfit planned out for each different show and possibly a change of outfit for the after parties. I can also Guarantee you I won’t be wearing any of those outfits to ARTwear at the AGC. Just incase, you never know who you will see again at another event. So If I can manage that then really….
I imagine myself scolding her like a puppy who got into the garbage ‘BAD! BAD Anna Wintour! You don’t do that!NnnnnnoO’
I’ve spent a lot of my personal alone time (which there has been an abundance of) going between blogs and sites like calgary-fashion.blogspot.com, Thebudgetfashionista.com, style.com, thebagblog.com (Really any site that would trigger me into a vicious shame cycle.) In my online window shopping I caught my first glances of Jimmy Choo for H&M. *Scream* This amazing collaboration will be in stores November 14th comprising of a full range of shoes, bags and accessories. They all look as you would imagine, like sex on 3 inch sticks. I decided to do some comparative research after wiping the drool. Christian Siriano (project runway winner) is teaming up with Payless Shoes for his own line as well due out in fall. Just as alluring but on the other side of the spectrum. Where Choo offers a more mainstream kind of sex, Siriano goes for his taboo, edgy “rough sex” on a 3 inch stick if you will. Both fantastic, affordable lines from well known, high end designers. Definitely something to look forward to.
One blog I read through, I can’t recall which one exactly but it had such an adorable idea. Hanging or framing your dresses around the house and your bedroom as installations or works of art. Again it was just adorable, very English summer home/ dollhouse. Why not do it though? We spend enough on gowns for weddings, Christmas events etc and afterwards they just end up taking room in the closet only because we can’t bare to part with them. I have always imagined myself one day when I am old, you would enter my french doors into my large 15 ft ceiling, marble floored, circular shaped foyer, shoes on top of pedestals, lined up along the curved walls, one to a window to illuminate them. All faced inwards towards my grand staircase where I could make my entrance to greet my guests. Ya it’s a bit of cheese but I have professed my love of old style glamour before.
I have been so online oriented lately as a distraction, I have been really really good lately, on my best behaviour. Dotting my t’s and crossing my I’s. More or less. I have had to make excuse after excuse to the girls as to why I am staying home on a Friday, then again on a Saturday. Budget has played a big part in my recluse ways but the other part has been Derrick. I will go over this quickly and possible in point form as I do not wish to give the situation much more thought or drama as has already been created.
So first off I gave in, conceding to the fact that I probably did over react, we continued to see each other on a non official basis for about a week, things were great, fun, attracting, showing potential. More so than I had originally thought or intended but I rolled with it. then all of a sudden I get this email: ‘ I need a big favor from you, and I hope you understand. Would it be ok if we took a 'time out' with us? I know that sucks and all but I need to figure some stuff out. It’s kinda crappy but before you I had three really shitty things happen with three different women’ he then continued, ‘You're awesome and this has zero to do with you and you've already put up with a bunch of my flakiness, which I appreciate. I'm just not 100% sure what to do and I don't want to be dragging you along while I figure this out.’
At first I was ok with it. No big deal. I thought it was somewhat sweet and honest. A little disappointing but not the end of the world. Fish in the sea and such. It was about three days later I started looking at the other side of the coin and asking questions and coming to conclusions, well maybe only theories. “Was this a dear john letter? A really good blow off, is this “time-out” his excuse to see someone else?” and on and on and on. I got angry thinking I had just been ultimately played a fool again and if that is the case then OMG I am ‘16 going on 17’ only plus ten. I am too old for this. I am tired of all this willy nilly running around, game playing. In the end I suppose you can’t spell manipulative without a man. Knowing this and being smart enough to know my own worth, here I have been for two weeks sitting around hiding out, hoping I can put my doubt in faith and he was sincere. What Is it about this guy that I already know I will give him another chance again if he comes around. I’ll say it again “give up the ghost” Rachel.
Xo
Rachel
A couple weeks have passed since my confounding incident with Derrick.. Since that time things have been anything but usual in that area. Before I touch on that though, I would like to go over just a couple things:
Starting with the VMA’s, I know, it’s old news now but I am not going to even touch the Kanye West and Taylor Swift issue. Instead, I would like to talk about Shakira and Pink who wound up in the same dress on the red carpet! Some one’s stylist is getting F-I-R-E-D. Speaking of same outfits, this next point really gets to me; Anna Wintour was caught wearing the same outfit twice on two separate occasions within the same month. (information courtesy of Perez) That’s four public appearances and only two outfits! Don’t get me wrong, for the every day woman that’s normal, that’s fine. Anna Wintour however, is not the everyday woman. I mean honestly she must have a closet in every single city she lands in. Some critics may say “well maybe her luggage was lost or delayed” to which I reply, do you honestly believe she flies commercial airlines and even if that was a possibility, she could walk into any boutique and have anything she wanted thrown at her feet as brown nosing sales staff fan her with palm leaves and hand feed her grapes. So Ms. Wintour, please be advised I do not wish to be encouraged by your attempt to relate to the modern day recessionista, nor do I appreciate your lack of effort to maintain the standards that you yourself made. Honestly I just bought my tickets to Alberta Fashion Week and I already have a tentative outfit planned out for each different show and possibly a change of outfit for the after parties. I can also Guarantee you I won’t be wearing any of those outfits to ARTwear at the AGC. Just incase, you never know who you will see again at another event. So If I can manage that then really….
I imagine myself scolding her like a puppy who got into the garbage ‘BAD! BAD Anna Wintour! You don’t do that!NnnnnnoO’
I’ve spent a lot of my personal alone time (which there has been an abundance of) going between blogs and sites like calgary-fashion.blogspot.com, Thebudgetfashionista.com, style.com, thebagblog.com (Really any site that would trigger me into a vicious shame cycle.) In my online window shopping I caught my first glances of Jimmy Choo for H&M. *Scream* This amazing collaboration will be in stores November 14th comprising of a full range of shoes, bags and accessories. They all look as you would imagine, like sex on 3 inch sticks. I decided to do some comparative research after wiping the drool. Christian Siriano (project runway winner) is teaming up with Payless Shoes for his own line as well due out in fall. Just as alluring but on the other side of the spectrum. Where Choo offers a more mainstream kind of sex, Siriano goes for his taboo, edgy “rough sex” on a 3 inch stick if you will. Both fantastic, affordable lines from well known, high end designers. Definitely something to look forward to.
One blog I read through, I can’t recall which one exactly but it had such an adorable idea. Hanging or framing your dresses around the house and your bedroom as installations or works of art. Again it was just adorable, very English summer home/ dollhouse. Why not do it though? We spend enough on gowns for weddings, Christmas events etc and afterwards they just end up taking room in the closet only because we can’t bare to part with them. I have always imagined myself one day when I am old, you would enter my french doors into my large 15 ft ceiling, marble floored, circular shaped foyer, shoes on top of pedestals, lined up along the curved walls, one to a window to illuminate them. All faced inwards towards my grand staircase where I could make my entrance to greet my guests. Ya it’s a bit of cheese but I have professed my love of old style glamour before.
I have been so online oriented lately as a distraction, I have been really really good lately, on my best behaviour. Dotting my t’s and crossing my I’s. More or less. I have had to make excuse after excuse to the girls as to why I am staying home on a Friday, then again on a Saturday. Budget has played a big part in my recluse ways but the other part has been Derrick. I will go over this quickly and possible in point form as I do not wish to give the situation much more thought or drama as has already been created.
So first off I gave in, conceding to the fact that I probably did over react, we continued to see each other on a non official basis for about a week, things were great, fun, attracting, showing potential. More so than I had originally thought or intended but I rolled with it. then all of a sudden I get this email: ‘ I need a big favor from you, and I hope you understand. Would it be ok if we took a 'time out' with us? I know that sucks and all but I need to figure some stuff out. It’s kinda crappy but before you I had three really shitty things happen with three different women’ he then continued, ‘You're awesome and this has zero to do with you and you've already put up with a bunch of my flakiness, which I appreciate. I'm just not 100% sure what to do and I don't want to be dragging you along while I figure this out.’
At first I was ok with it. No big deal. I thought it was somewhat sweet and honest. A little disappointing but not the end of the world. Fish in the sea and such. It was about three days later I started looking at the other side of the coin and asking questions and coming to conclusions, well maybe only theories. “Was this a dear john letter? A really good blow off, is this “time-out” his excuse to see someone else?” and on and on and on. I got angry thinking I had just been ultimately played a fool again and if that is the case then OMG I am ‘16 going on 17’ only plus ten. I am too old for this. I am tired of all this willy nilly running around, game playing. In the end I suppose you can’t spell manipulative without a man. Knowing this and being smart enough to know my own worth, here I have been for two weeks sitting around hiding out, hoping I can put my doubt in faith and he was sincere. What Is it about this guy that I already know I will give him another chance again if he comes around. I’ll say it again “give up the ghost” Rachel.
Xo
Rachel
Monday, September 14, 2009
The FU in FUN
I worry these days that I have too much time on my hands, far to0 much time to think and overthink and create paradox out of nothing. Still without cable, missing my TMZ, Chelsea Lately, ANTM. Not that I am a big TV person, but its nice to have it in the background, you know, like a fill-in boyfriend. Sometimes it’s just nice to have the company. Alas I am still broke from well… everything. Being stupid more than anything I suppose. So no T.V. or social life for me.
Last Saturday, I was waiting for Derrick at a table outside Higher Grounds in Kensington, our second meeting for coffee since Global Fest. Yes, I gave in. He is cute and growing on me. Besides it’s still just having fun. Nothing serious I remind myself. Reading through this months vogue; once again a large heavy weight issue: “584 pages of Stylish Steals and Smart Splurges” See! Even Vogue supports my new lifestyle. Even though 524 of those pages in vogues world of what constitutes a ‘Stylish Steal’ were still beyond what I could afford. The joy of perusing through the beautifully executed, exquisite ads of fall 09 visions is one of the main reasons I subscribe. This issue in Anna’s letter from the editor she touched on something vaguely, it was probably as close to the idea of thriftiness she has ever touched, but none the less she is trying to show some sympathy for girls like me while at the same time defend an industry that can come under so much ridicule. “ Fashion is so often presented in the culture as a thing of froth, which , of course it partly is...Frivolity must have its foundations”
Her phrasing caused me to think over my coffee. Current times seem to dictate, fashion or shopping is one of the first things people will cut from their budget or sacrifice. Why? Is it because we overspend so? Well yes obviously. Also, we have spent so much time shopping frivolously without that foundation. We will spend time and money in a mall but shake it off as a chore instead of looking at it as an experience to be enjoyed. Now with our purse strings tightened do we realize what we have taken for granted. Further more, here comes the paradox, Is it fair that I hold myself to irrational standards of the past, based on a name or label? Even if I don’t how do I sacrifice without actually sacrificing? Whether I spend 20, 200, or 2000 during an excursion can shopping still be an experience without experiencing the bank balance at the end of the day?
Tuning back into reality and pulling my wits about me, unsure if I had been gazing into the ether for the last 10 seconds or ten minutes Derrick showed up. I turned slightly out from the table, pulled a Sharon Stone leg cross in my BCBG peasant dress and Grey Suede ankle boots (40.00 bucks from my last shopping trip.) With the sun coming out from the clouds I reach across and grab my channel sunglasses. He sits and I analyze him head to toe behind the privacy of my glasses: Shoes: good, Watch: nice, hair: well coiffed. Then he pulled a trump card. Last time we met for drinks at the metropolitan grill we were talking about our week, I mentioned to him that me and the girls had gone shopping at Deerfoot Mall. “Isn’t that kind of a ghetto mall?” Was his response. Well to make a long story short, I was a little insulted that the term ‘ghetto’ be applied to somewhere I shopped. I went a bit on the defensive and pointed out all the reasons why it wasn’t ghetto, how I don’t have to leave the city, that it’s certainly not the same mall his mom used to shop at, as he had mentioned, but I digress. So after coming back from getting himself a coffee, Derrick sat down and played his trump card: He handed me a little white envelope with a gift card to Deerfoot Mall inside. We both laughed. It was thoughtful and definatly won him some brownie points. Damn. You know what this means don’t you? I’ve lost the upper hand. What occurred this past week is the exact reason I hate losing the upper hand.
So That was our second ‘date’ for lack of a better word, our second fantastic ‘date’ mind you. The following day I left him a voicemail to see if he wanted to join me at the mall to help use my gift card. I ended up going alone, never heard from Derrick at all one way or the other that day, or the next or the next. It wasn’t until Wednesday at work that I finally received a e-mail from him. He made no mention of the voicemail, no apology for not getting back to me or anything. Just business as usual. I let it slide and replied to his email on Thursday inquiring to his plans for the weekend. That was Thursday. Now once again I am at Higher Grounds on a Sunday. However, this time not waiting for anyone. Hmmmm lets see two great dates and two ignored attempts at communication- GAME-! So about twenty minutes ago, after rolling the subject around my brain and getting a little annoyed about it, I texted (yes texted) “Okay I get the hint good luck with things.” Immediately I get a response! “Hey I just got home. You’re so dramatic!” at first I was insulted by the comment. I’m sorry if expecting a response from someone is dramatic but I think it’s the decent thing to do when someone tries to contact you. Now I wonder, was I really being dramatic? Was I just over reacting? If all we were doing is having fun with no expectations then what with all this guilt? Maybe I was wrong and just took the fun out of it. At record speed I might add. Do girls really just want to have fun? Rubbish! Well either way, what now?
XO Rachel
Last Saturday, I was waiting for Derrick at a table outside Higher Grounds in Kensington, our second meeting for coffee since Global Fest. Yes, I gave in. He is cute and growing on me. Besides it’s still just having fun. Nothing serious I remind myself. Reading through this months vogue; once again a large heavy weight issue: “584 pages of Stylish Steals and Smart Splurges” See! Even Vogue supports my new lifestyle. Even though 524 of those pages in vogues world of what constitutes a ‘Stylish Steal’ were still beyond what I could afford. The joy of perusing through the beautifully executed, exquisite ads of fall 09 visions is one of the main reasons I subscribe. This issue in Anna’s letter from the editor she touched on something vaguely, it was probably as close to the idea of thriftiness she has ever touched, but none the less she is trying to show some sympathy for girls like me while at the same time defend an industry that can come under so much ridicule. “ Fashion is so often presented in the culture as a thing of froth, which , of course it partly is...Frivolity must have its foundations”
Her phrasing caused me to think over my coffee. Current times seem to dictate, fashion or shopping is one of the first things people will cut from their budget or sacrifice. Why? Is it because we overspend so? Well yes obviously. Also, we have spent so much time shopping frivolously without that foundation. We will spend time and money in a mall but shake it off as a chore instead of looking at it as an experience to be enjoyed. Now with our purse strings tightened do we realize what we have taken for granted. Further more, here comes the paradox, Is it fair that I hold myself to irrational standards of the past, based on a name or label? Even if I don’t how do I sacrifice without actually sacrificing? Whether I spend 20, 200, or 2000 during an excursion can shopping still be an experience without experiencing the bank balance at the end of the day?
Tuning back into reality and pulling my wits about me, unsure if I had been gazing into the ether for the last 10 seconds or ten minutes Derrick showed up. I turned slightly out from the table, pulled a Sharon Stone leg cross in my BCBG peasant dress and Grey Suede ankle boots (40.00 bucks from my last shopping trip.) With the sun coming out from the clouds I reach across and grab my channel sunglasses. He sits and I analyze him head to toe behind the privacy of my glasses: Shoes: good, Watch: nice, hair: well coiffed. Then he pulled a trump card. Last time we met for drinks at the metropolitan grill we were talking about our week, I mentioned to him that me and the girls had gone shopping at Deerfoot Mall. “Isn’t that kind of a ghetto mall?” Was his response. Well to make a long story short, I was a little insulted that the term ‘ghetto’ be applied to somewhere I shopped. I went a bit on the defensive and pointed out all the reasons why it wasn’t ghetto, how I don’t have to leave the city, that it’s certainly not the same mall his mom used to shop at, as he had mentioned, but I digress. So after coming back from getting himself a coffee, Derrick sat down and played his trump card: He handed me a little white envelope with a gift card to Deerfoot Mall inside. We both laughed. It was thoughtful and definatly won him some brownie points. Damn. You know what this means don’t you? I’ve lost the upper hand. What occurred this past week is the exact reason I hate losing the upper hand.
So That was our second ‘date’ for lack of a better word, our second fantastic ‘date’ mind you. The following day I left him a voicemail to see if he wanted to join me at the mall to help use my gift card. I ended up going alone, never heard from Derrick at all one way or the other that day, or the next or the next. It wasn’t until Wednesday at work that I finally received a e-mail from him. He made no mention of the voicemail, no apology for not getting back to me or anything. Just business as usual. I let it slide and replied to his email on Thursday inquiring to his plans for the weekend. That was Thursday. Now once again I am at Higher Grounds on a Sunday. However, this time not waiting for anyone. Hmmmm lets see two great dates and two ignored attempts at communication- GAME-! So about twenty minutes ago, after rolling the subject around my brain and getting a little annoyed about it, I texted (yes texted) “Okay I get the hint good luck with things.” Immediately I get a response! “Hey I just got home. You’re so dramatic!” at first I was insulted by the comment. I’m sorry if expecting a response from someone is dramatic but I think it’s the decent thing to do when someone tries to contact you. Now I wonder, was I really being dramatic? Was I just over reacting? If all we were doing is having fun with no expectations then what with all this guilt? Maybe I was wrong and just took the fun out of it. At record speed I might add. Do girls really just want to have fun? Rubbish! Well either way, what now?
XO Rachel
Monday, August 31, 2009
GlobalFest
It appears I have been adopted by one of the girls from the office. Jen, She moved to Calgary a year ago from Vancouver. I suppose she felt sorry for me when I told her my situation and has since been my interactive guide to the city. Along with being adopted I have also been adapting. Me and this new lifestyle I thought would be like oil and water. Turns out it is more like soil and water; slowly sinking in bit by bit. I’ve spent most of my free time either in my chair or in bed, desperately trying to find some quick fix, some means of escapism; Running through variation upon variation of a budget that leaves no room for thrills and frills. While sitting in my arm chair, eating ichiban and finishing the bottle of cheap red wine, lacking the social aspect of my life I daydream, watching old movies like breakfast at Tiffany’s, Sunset Boulevard and All About Eve; beautiful women wearing beautiful things, getting exactly what they want.
Thursday Jen managed to convince me to attend a night of global fest with her and a few friends. ‘Friends’ turned out to be Jen’s boyfriend Paul and his wingman Derrick. When Jen introduced us it was obvious what she was doing and why Derrick was present. He wasn’t my typical type. Don’t get me wrong he was; cute, average height, dark hair, dark eyes, just not someone who would normally turn my head. He was of course, interested in me and I was polite. While we were waiting for the fireworks to begin, we talked the same old opening lines. Then, as ridiculous as it sounds, we had one of those moments where the eyes meet. You know the kind. The eyes meet, you keep the glance for a fifth of a second too long and you see something that you missed before. The muscles in your face pull on their own accord and tighten at the cheeks. Before you can stop it, you are wearing this large grin. You turn your head ever so slightly so your hair covers your flush cheeks and wait till you regain composure till you look back up, tossing your hair as you do. Then you see the same look staring back at you. “Oh Rachel! Stop right there!” I warned myself. “You have seen that look and tossed that hair before!” I couldn’t argue with myself. Thankfully Jen reached over and asked what time it was. The music started and the show began.
That night China lit up Calgary’s skies with eruptions of color and sound. Even with the thunderous explosions above my thoughts were still quite clear and pronounced. Eastern Philosophy, fashion and design crossed my mind. From Dior’s 2007 Couture collection, Armani back in 2001, again now in Prive Spring 2009 and using actress Zhang Ziyi as the face of Emporio Armani for this years ready-to-wear. Talented designers like Jason Wu and Vera Wang. Then the essentials of Chinas contribution to the world of fashion; the mandarin collar, Chinese Silk and Satin brocade. Then Beyond that, China’s historic and modern contributions to amazing architecture and interior design are considerable. I remembered seeing both Asian inspired clothing and décor last Saturday at the mall. I already wanted to go back to induldge in my new fascination. As the two minutes passed that it took me to reminisce all those names, textiles and effects I used to enjoy in excess, I again became downtrodden. Confucius say “he who will not economize must agonize”. Well, having experienced that I am trying to live by the idea “with coarse rice to eat, with water to drink, and my crooked arm for a pillow; is not joy to be found therein.” Another gigantic bloom of color pulled my eyes back from my meditative state. As the fireworks ended I was grateful for the company and to be socially active again. However, the entire way back to my apartment I still couldn’t shake the feeling of melancholy.
I enter my lifeless still somewhat bare apt. Strip down to my loungewear, grab a bottle of nail polish and plunk myself into my armchair. I seem to be a bit complacent and beside myself, The last few weeks have weathered me a little; running on all cylinders. I put in ‘Being Julia’ with Annette Benning; she lies on the massage table covered only by a towel, in a moment when she should be so calm and flaccid she exclaims “ I’m in such an odd state at the moment, a sort of limbo it’s a though the curtain has come down on act one but I have no idea what’s to come in act two”. I wait for my polish to dry on my toes. Looking over my work I spot a smudge on my second toe. This tiny imperfection, the smallest error, the last thing to go wrong, somehow pushes me past limbo and down to hell. With an uncensored scream, like a cannon, I hurl the small bottle at the far wall and watch the red liquid trickle down against the white.
Xo Rachel
Thursday Jen managed to convince me to attend a night of global fest with her and a few friends. ‘Friends’ turned out to be Jen’s boyfriend Paul and his wingman Derrick. When Jen introduced us it was obvious what she was doing and why Derrick was present. He wasn’t my typical type. Don’t get me wrong he was; cute, average height, dark hair, dark eyes, just not someone who would normally turn my head. He was of course, interested in me and I was polite. While we were waiting for the fireworks to begin, we talked the same old opening lines. Then, as ridiculous as it sounds, we had one of those moments where the eyes meet. You know the kind. The eyes meet, you keep the glance for a fifth of a second too long and you see something that you missed before. The muscles in your face pull on their own accord and tighten at the cheeks. Before you can stop it, you are wearing this large grin. You turn your head ever so slightly so your hair covers your flush cheeks and wait till you regain composure till you look back up, tossing your hair as you do. Then you see the same look staring back at you. “Oh Rachel! Stop right there!” I warned myself. “You have seen that look and tossed that hair before!” I couldn’t argue with myself. Thankfully Jen reached over and asked what time it was. The music started and the show began.
That night China lit up Calgary’s skies with eruptions of color and sound. Even with the thunderous explosions above my thoughts were still quite clear and pronounced. Eastern Philosophy, fashion and design crossed my mind. From Dior’s 2007 Couture collection, Armani back in 2001, again now in Prive Spring 2009 and using actress Zhang Ziyi as the face of Emporio Armani for this years ready-to-wear. Talented designers like Jason Wu and Vera Wang. Then the essentials of Chinas contribution to the world of fashion; the mandarin collar, Chinese Silk and Satin brocade. Then Beyond that, China’s historic and modern contributions to amazing architecture and interior design are considerable. I remembered seeing both Asian inspired clothing and décor last Saturday at the mall. I already wanted to go back to induldge in my new fascination. As the two minutes passed that it took me to reminisce all those names, textiles and effects I used to enjoy in excess, I again became downtrodden. Confucius say “he who will not economize must agonize”. Well, having experienced that I am trying to live by the idea “with coarse rice to eat, with water to drink, and my crooked arm for a pillow; is not joy to be found therein.” Another gigantic bloom of color pulled my eyes back from my meditative state. As the fireworks ended I was grateful for the company and to be socially active again. However, the entire way back to my apartment I still couldn’t shake the feeling of melancholy.
I enter my lifeless still somewhat bare apt. Strip down to my loungewear, grab a bottle of nail polish and plunk myself into my armchair. I seem to be a bit complacent and beside myself, The last few weeks have weathered me a little; running on all cylinders. I put in ‘Being Julia’ with Annette Benning; she lies on the massage table covered only by a towel, in a moment when she should be so calm and flaccid she exclaims “ I’m in such an odd state at the moment, a sort of limbo it’s a though the curtain has come down on act one but I have no idea what’s to come in act two”. I wait for my polish to dry on my toes. Looking over my work I spot a smudge on my second toe. This tiny imperfection, the smallest error, the last thing to go wrong, somehow pushes me past limbo and down to hell. With an uncensored scream, like a cannon, I hurl the small bottle at the far wall and watch the red liquid trickle down against the white.
Xo Rachel
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Adjustments
This past Friday night I stayed in home alone, did the cliché thing and ordered Chinese. I had been invited to go out for drink with a couple people from human resources but I have decided though to put my social night life on reserve for now. I did make the exception though to see this new mall that just opened outside of the city. I say make an exception, but really after my last tease of a shopping experience in this city how could I refuse. I was invited by two exceptionally fashionable colleagues Cherri (Cher), The HR administrator and Jacquie from accounting. Since it was opening weekend the wake up call was set for 7:30 am Saturday morning with an eta of 9:00. So I resolved to stay home and conserve my bad habits for tomorrow, as I had already indulged in matters of plastic this week. Of course for purposes of necessity though. Having moved here with nothing but clothes did create a demand for certain household items.
On Wednesday I finally received my purchases from Koolhaus Designs to furnish my living room; a ‘Conrad’ arm chair and ‘Caldo’ side cube. I had already used what was left of the money from the sale of my car to pay for my new bed so the chair and table had to go on plastic. I felt so horrible when I signed the receipt. It felt like a crime to be buying such expensive furniture and putting it back on credit like I would always do. How could I be hit so hard by my carelessness to be repeating the same actions again? “It was necessary though wasn’t it?” I wondered, sitting in my new chair on Friday night alone, my legs slumped over the arm, my #14, steamed rice and a glass of red on my cube. My deeming of the spending as “necessary” collapsed in on me as I finally accepted the knowledge I already was aware of… “Idiot” I called myself, “If you were going to start up all over again why have you even moved here?” Why did I move here? Why did I abandon everything? Just because of some…. Well a lot of very drastic debt? Certainly I had been in similar situations before but I was working when that happened and could always just slowly pay it down. I moved to start fresh. Even if I had stayed, got a new job, even still sold my car, paid off my debt and stayed…I would have always stayed exactly where I was in my life. Having this opportunity, is it maybe a chance to gain a little more substance. I think I am at capacity when it comes to style so what else could it be? This optimism doesn’t typically suit me though, I brush the charges off as a slip, every recovering addict has atleast one. Justifying anything is a special skill I have, besides I always have good intentions even when I do slip up.
My blackberry rang at 10:30 Saturday morning; it was Jacquie calling to say she would be at my place in an hour to pick me up. She had gone out with the office staff last night and slept in. I ran through the shower, threw on my face, flat ironed the hair, pulled on a pair of True Relig. Boot cuts and black tank. When Jacquie called again to notify me she was out front, at the door I looked down, “still the same three pairs I arrived with” I thought, astonished actually I still haven’t bought a new pair yet. I chose the black leather McQueen Ankle boots I got in Vegas last year. However much I loved these shoes it was still a bit of a disappointment to put them on. I had worn them every day this week. That never happens. I had made up my mind, my mission today: SHOES!
On the way out of the city, we made one quick stop off first. Have you ever seen that infomercial for hair removal where it is a round pad that ‘buffers’ your hair away? Well Jacquie swears by it and needed to stock up. We pulled off the hiway and up to Deerfoot Mall, the three of us went in, decided we would grab a coffee while we were there. The mall was quiet, not a lot of traffic. We grabbed our coffee from the food court, headed down to the kiosk and Jacquie bought her ‘buffers.’ Cher asked if I wanted to take a look around since I had never been there before. I was completely blown away, considering the shopping I am accustomed to I wouldn’t have thought I’d find anything in this mall. We hit up Mexx and I found this really cute denim skirt, would look brilliant with this black mock turtle neck I have and couple pair of high waisted trousers. Picked up two pairs of shoes from Sterling, both stilleto’s of course, I have a minimum three inch requirement when it comes to shoes. Scored a cute cropped three button vest at Smart Set. Then a belt, bag and a couple blouses from Winners. After three hours of shopping I walked out spending just under 300.00. Once again I felt the rush and the high from instant gratification, the glamorous feeling of walking around a mall with multiple bags venturing to attain even more. I was actually quite impressed I managed 3 outfits and 4 pair of shoes under five hundred. It was a great experience, the best part was the traffic in the mall. No one was cutting me off, hitting me with their bags, no long line ups, crying children or the blended murmur of numerous conversations drowning out the music being played from overhead etc.
I do have one confession though, while in Winnners I was rummaging through one rack with this cute casual green knit empire waist day dress, they didn’t have it in my size though, so while Cher tried a few things on and Jacqui browsed around I waited to see if any of the employees at the store would restock. So I was browsing around, keeping a close eye on the dress. Finally after about 30 minutes one of the store employees placed a single dress back on the bar. I darted between the other women in the store, YES! It was a small, grabbed the hanger and turned. I was met with resistance, my arm pulled back from an opposing force. I turned back to see another woman with her hand on the other sleeve of my dress. At this point I was tired, my feet sore and my adrenaline rushing from a day of spending. I gave my opponent a deadly glare, “It’s mine!” I said as calmly as possible. It didn’t register what she said back to me but it didn’t matter, I wasn’t giving this up. I tensed my grip, pulled a bit towards me and shouted in her face “I have been shopping all day, my feet hurt I’m tired and have waited 30 minutes for this dress. SO JUST LET GO!!!” she did of course. A few other shoppers in the store took a couple steps back as I turned and marched towards the line for the till.
It was about 3:30pm Cher was tired, Jacquie was hung over, so we decided to call it a day and go the new place another day. On our way out of the mall we passed by fitness source, just like the incident with the dance lessons, I pictured myself a yoga mat and instructional DVD playing in the middle of my living room. “Yoga? Could I be one of those girls?” I was in such a good mood though and the thought of further shopping at a new, larger mall put personal fitness to the back of my mind, I could always come back another day.
Now (Sunday) I sit again home alone, in my apartment. My purchases sprawled out across my living room in the places where furniture and accent pieces should be. Watching Miss Universe; Kosovo was absolutely immaculate. Fantastic hair, stunning gown (she should have won). I gush over having options now for footwear. Pondering which outfit to wear for work tomorrow. Trying to ignore the buyers remorse and the sinking feeling of guilt and fear that I might have already dug myself into another hole. I continually tell myself I did better than I would have before, I should be proud I spent so little and got so much. Like I said I can justify anything… in the moment… I suppose when you radically change and move on to a new stage of your life your mind goes into some sort of “shock.” Still what lingers a little is not what I bought, or couldn’t buy, nothing to do with the sheer materialism of it but behind that the aspect of letting go. “’Give up the ghost’ Rachel” I told myself and turned off the TV
Xo Rachel
On Wednesday I finally received my purchases from Koolhaus Designs to furnish my living room; a ‘Conrad’ arm chair and ‘Caldo’ side cube. I had already used what was left of the money from the sale of my car to pay for my new bed so the chair and table had to go on plastic. I felt so horrible when I signed the receipt. It felt like a crime to be buying such expensive furniture and putting it back on credit like I would always do. How could I be hit so hard by my carelessness to be repeating the same actions again? “It was necessary though wasn’t it?” I wondered, sitting in my new chair on Friday night alone, my legs slumped over the arm, my #14, steamed rice and a glass of red on my cube. My deeming of the spending as “necessary” collapsed in on me as I finally accepted the knowledge I already was aware of… “Idiot” I called myself, “If you were going to start up all over again why have you even moved here?” Why did I move here? Why did I abandon everything? Just because of some…. Well a lot of very drastic debt? Certainly I had been in similar situations before but I was working when that happened and could always just slowly pay it down. I moved to start fresh. Even if I had stayed, got a new job, even still sold my car, paid off my debt and stayed…I would have always stayed exactly where I was in my life. Having this opportunity, is it maybe a chance to gain a little more substance. I think I am at capacity when it comes to style so what else could it be? This optimism doesn’t typically suit me though, I brush the charges off as a slip, every recovering addict has atleast one. Justifying anything is a special skill I have, besides I always have good intentions even when I do slip up.
My blackberry rang at 10:30 Saturday morning; it was Jacquie calling to say she would be at my place in an hour to pick me up. She had gone out with the office staff last night and slept in. I ran through the shower, threw on my face, flat ironed the hair, pulled on a pair of True Relig. Boot cuts and black tank. When Jacquie called again to notify me she was out front, at the door I looked down, “still the same three pairs I arrived with” I thought, astonished actually I still haven’t bought a new pair yet. I chose the black leather McQueen Ankle boots I got in Vegas last year. However much I loved these shoes it was still a bit of a disappointment to put them on. I had worn them every day this week. That never happens. I had made up my mind, my mission today: SHOES!
On the way out of the city, we made one quick stop off first. Have you ever seen that infomercial for hair removal where it is a round pad that ‘buffers’ your hair away? Well Jacquie swears by it and needed to stock up. We pulled off the hiway and up to Deerfoot Mall, the three of us went in, decided we would grab a coffee while we were there. The mall was quiet, not a lot of traffic. We grabbed our coffee from the food court, headed down to the kiosk and Jacquie bought her ‘buffers.’ Cher asked if I wanted to take a look around since I had never been there before. I was completely blown away, considering the shopping I am accustomed to I wouldn’t have thought I’d find anything in this mall. We hit up Mexx and I found this really cute denim skirt, would look brilliant with this black mock turtle neck I have and couple pair of high waisted trousers. Picked up two pairs of shoes from Sterling, both stilleto’s of course, I have a minimum three inch requirement when it comes to shoes. Scored a cute cropped three button vest at Smart Set. Then a belt, bag and a couple blouses from Winners. After three hours of shopping I walked out spending just under 300.00. Once again I felt the rush and the high from instant gratification, the glamorous feeling of walking around a mall with multiple bags venturing to attain even more. I was actually quite impressed I managed 3 outfits and 4 pair of shoes under five hundred. It was a great experience, the best part was the traffic in the mall. No one was cutting me off, hitting me with their bags, no long line ups, crying children or the blended murmur of numerous conversations drowning out the music being played from overhead etc.
I do have one confession though, while in Winnners I was rummaging through one rack with this cute casual green knit empire waist day dress, they didn’t have it in my size though, so while Cher tried a few things on and Jacqui browsed around I waited to see if any of the employees at the store would restock. So I was browsing around, keeping a close eye on the dress. Finally after about 30 minutes one of the store employees placed a single dress back on the bar. I darted between the other women in the store, YES! It was a small, grabbed the hanger and turned. I was met with resistance, my arm pulled back from an opposing force. I turned back to see another woman with her hand on the other sleeve of my dress. At this point I was tired, my feet sore and my adrenaline rushing from a day of spending. I gave my opponent a deadly glare, “It’s mine!” I said as calmly as possible. It didn’t register what she said back to me but it didn’t matter, I wasn’t giving this up. I tensed my grip, pulled a bit towards me and shouted in her face “I have been shopping all day, my feet hurt I’m tired and have waited 30 minutes for this dress. SO JUST LET GO!!!” she did of course. A few other shoppers in the store took a couple steps back as I turned and marched towards the line for the till.
It was about 3:30pm Cher was tired, Jacquie was hung over, so we decided to call it a day and go the new place another day. On our way out of the mall we passed by fitness source, just like the incident with the dance lessons, I pictured myself a yoga mat and instructional DVD playing in the middle of my living room. “Yoga? Could I be one of those girls?” I was in such a good mood though and the thought of further shopping at a new, larger mall put personal fitness to the back of my mind, I could always come back another day.
Now (Sunday) I sit again home alone, in my apartment. My purchases sprawled out across my living room in the places where furniture and accent pieces should be. Watching Miss Universe; Kosovo was absolutely immaculate. Fantastic hair, stunning gown (she should have won). I gush over having options now for footwear. Pondering which outfit to wear for work tomorrow. Trying to ignore the buyers remorse and the sinking feeling of guilt and fear that I might have already dug myself into another hole. I continually tell myself I did better than I would have before, I should be proud I spent so little and got so much. Like I said I can justify anything… in the moment… I suppose when you radically change and move on to a new stage of your life your mind goes into some sort of “shock.” Still what lingers a little is not what I bought, or couldn’t buy, nothing to do with the sheer materialism of it but behind that the aspect of letting go. “’Give up the ghost’ Rachel” I told myself and turned off the TV
Xo Rachel
Friday, August 21, 2009
Week One
Aug17 2009
The sound of metal against metal, as the wire hangers run across the rod of my new closet; it’s like nails on a chalk board. I pull off a pair of Rock&Republic skinny jeans from the hanger, toss them on the bed and hold the twisted cold wire in my hand the voice of the gorgeous Faye Dunaway playing the glamorous Joan Crawford in “Mommy Dearest”, rings out “No wire hangers ever!!!”. I scan from one side of the closest to the other, fighting the second nature I had developed, to turn around to find another rack of clothes behind me. The shirts visually considered are all less than satisfactory. I have found myself this past week with a repeating the desire in my head; “If only I had that one.” Each shirt, blouse, pair of denim, shoe and accessory reminds me of the ones I no longer have. As a matter of fact, there is hardly a moment of the day where I am not reminded of something left behind or give up. My car, my furniture, all gone, all used mainly to clear my credit cards.
I spent my first week in this city feeling deprived, alone and lost; no longer a motorist, having to rejoin the world of pedestrians and public transit users has been an interesting venture in itself. I find it amusing, not only as a woman but as a human how comforted and reassured we can make ourselves by material things. When it has all been stripped away, we are left only with the people in our lives for that comfort and reassurance. Me, having neither abundantly available I debate which would be more comforting now: my best friend from T.O. or my Donna Karan oversized cashmere shawl. “If Maslow were here” I thought, “he would grimace as my pyramid was a dishevelled as the pile of ‘rejected’ outfits on my bed”. Throwing the thought from my mind, along with a couple of shirts from their hangers to my bed, I close my eyes and randomly grab one. Knowing full well that regardless of which I chose I would not be happy with it. For all the times I have utilized the cliché “I have noting to wear”. It finally really felt like it. Damn I wish I had that Donna Karan shawl.
Finally decided on an ensemble, Skinny Jeans, Marciano gladiator sandals and seventies feeling white organza tank from Dolce&Gabanna, I walk down to Eau Claire market for the “Taste of Calgary”. It was a half hour walk but compared to testing my luck on transit again it was quick. I was reminded of Ashbridge’s Bay Park back home. Beyond that, the crowd comforted me the most. Still not able to shake the feeling of discontent with my choice of shirt and shoes it was consoling to know I could become lost in the crowd going un recognized by anyone. “It’s so different here” I mused to myself, “Calgary is so casual!” The scores of people hustled about the square, all at their own leisure. Their attire and demeanour so much more relaxed than what I am used to. I was amazed when I hadn’t been pushed, bumped or cut in front of while waiting for Thai. If only ‘Thai’ was the name of a guy I was waiting for. With no one to talk to I had to do something with my mouth. So I traveled the world Visiting: Greece, Istanbul, Africa, The Caribbean, returning from my time abroad sans photographs and souvenirs but with heart burn. I ask a passer by where I can buy some ginger extract ( works amazing for heartburn). “In this area?” He paused, “I don’t think the mall would have anywhere that sells it but you could try the convenience store inside.” My pulse quickened at the mention of the word “mall”. I think I might have even mouthed the word before I replied to him. “Where exactly?” I inquired vacantly. He pointed across the square to the small building I thought was office space. I thanked him airily and began floating through the crowd, which turned to storming through the crowd as my Toronto nature kicked in.
I reached the entrance, pulled the handle, stepped through the door and into… I laughed loudly and two ladies looked back at me. I was the crazy woman laughing aloud by herself. “This isn't a mall! It's a market.” I realized and I felt the muscles in my face contort in dissapointment. I moved through the desolate expanse, wondering what tragedy took place here. I ended up first at the food court which was a dead end. On my way back I passed by the convenience store, suddenly remembering why I was there in the first place I checked for my ginger extract. No avail. I returned the way I came in, “This can’t be what shopping is like everywhere in this city!” I thought. I stopped right before the doors and decided a chai latte would make me feel better. When I got to the till to order I discovered Calgary and Toronto… Not so different. I saw two uninterested eyes glance up at me through a pair of peroxide blonde, blunt bangs. Her acknowledgment was so quick I wouldn’t be able to tell you what color they were. Every movement, breath and gesture she made screamed out ‘I hate my job’. She did all but throw my coffee at me as she dropped my change on the counter, while my hand was outreached and she mustered what must have been the extent of her manners “Have a good day.” Accustomed to this I turned was about to leave, instead I looked back at her and said “I know smiling can give you wrinkles hun, but not as badly as that tanning bed you’re over using.” I guess we each pick and choose our battles.
The outburst of sass caused me to reconsider exiting the building. I chose to explore the other side of the market. It was all very quaint, mom and pop shops and the such, I rounded the hall and came across a studio for latin ballroom dance lessons. “Dance lessons?” I entertained the idea. “Well I would, but I don’t have a partner or the right shoes”. My eyes moved to the right to a pair of leopard print salsa heels displayed in the window. “I would almost prefer the shoes over the partner”. As my mind contemplated, my index finger briefly rubbed overtop of the raised numbers on my credit card…..
XoRachel
The sound of metal against metal, as the wire hangers run across the rod of my new closet; it’s like nails on a chalk board. I pull off a pair of Rock&Republic skinny jeans from the hanger, toss them on the bed and hold the twisted cold wire in my hand the voice of the gorgeous Faye Dunaway playing the glamorous Joan Crawford in “Mommy Dearest”, rings out “No wire hangers ever!!!”. I scan from one side of the closest to the other, fighting the second nature I had developed, to turn around to find another rack of clothes behind me. The shirts visually considered are all less than satisfactory. I have found myself this past week with a repeating the desire in my head; “If only I had that one.” Each shirt, blouse, pair of denim, shoe and accessory reminds me of the ones I no longer have. As a matter of fact, there is hardly a moment of the day where I am not reminded of something left behind or give up. My car, my furniture, all gone, all used mainly to clear my credit cards.
I spent my first week in this city feeling deprived, alone and lost; no longer a motorist, having to rejoin the world of pedestrians and public transit users has been an interesting venture in itself. I find it amusing, not only as a woman but as a human how comforted and reassured we can make ourselves by material things. When it has all been stripped away, we are left only with the people in our lives for that comfort and reassurance. Me, having neither abundantly available I debate which would be more comforting now: my best friend from T.O. or my Donna Karan oversized cashmere shawl. “If Maslow were here” I thought, “he would grimace as my pyramid was a dishevelled as the pile of ‘rejected’ outfits on my bed”. Throwing the thought from my mind, along with a couple of shirts from their hangers to my bed, I close my eyes and randomly grab one. Knowing full well that regardless of which I chose I would not be happy with it. For all the times I have utilized the cliché “I have noting to wear”. It finally really felt like it. Damn I wish I had that Donna Karan shawl.
Finally decided on an ensemble, Skinny Jeans, Marciano gladiator sandals and seventies feeling white organza tank from Dolce&Gabanna, I walk down to Eau Claire market for the “Taste of Calgary”. It was a half hour walk but compared to testing my luck on transit again it was quick. I was reminded of Ashbridge’s Bay Park back home. Beyond that, the crowd comforted me the most. Still not able to shake the feeling of discontent with my choice of shirt and shoes it was consoling to know I could become lost in the crowd going un recognized by anyone. “It’s so different here” I mused to myself, “Calgary is so casual!” The scores of people hustled about the square, all at their own leisure. Their attire and demeanour so much more relaxed than what I am used to. I was amazed when I hadn’t been pushed, bumped or cut in front of while waiting for Thai. If only ‘Thai’ was the name of a guy I was waiting for. With no one to talk to I had to do something with my mouth. So I traveled the world Visiting: Greece, Istanbul, Africa, The Caribbean, returning from my time abroad sans photographs and souvenirs but with heart burn. I ask a passer by where I can buy some ginger extract ( works amazing for heartburn). “In this area?” He paused, “I don’t think the mall would have anywhere that sells it but you could try the convenience store inside.” My pulse quickened at the mention of the word “mall”. I think I might have even mouthed the word before I replied to him. “Where exactly?” I inquired vacantly. He pointed across the square to the small building I thought was office space. I thanked him airily and began floating through the crowd, which turned to storming through the crowd as my Toronto nature kicked in.
I reached the entrance, pulled the handle, stepped through the door and into… I laughed loudly and two ladies looked back at me. I was the crazy woman laughing aloud by herself. “This isn't a mall! It's a market.” I realized and I felt the muscles in my face contort in dissapointment. I moved through the desolate expanse, wondering what tragedy took place here. I ended up first at the food court which was a dead end. On my way back I passed by the convenience store, suddenly remembering why I was there in the first place I checked for my ginger extract. No avail. I returned the way I came in, “This can’t be what shopping is like everywhere in this city!” I thought. I stopped right before the doors and decided a chai latte would make me feel better. When I got to the till to order I discovered Calgary and Toronto… Not so different. I saw two uninterested eyes glance up at me through a pair of peroxide blonde, blunt bangs. Her acknowledgment was so quick I wouldn’t be able to tell you what color they were. Every movement, breath and gesture she made screamed out ‘I hate my job’. She did all but throw my coffee at me as she dropped my change on the counter, while my hand was outreached and she mustered what must have been the extent of her manners “Have a good day.” Accustomed to this I turned was about to leave, instead I looked back at her and said “I know smiling can give you wrinkles hun, but not as badly as that tanning bed you’re over using.” I guess we each pick and choose our battles.
The outburst of sass caused me to reconsider exiting the building. I chose to explore the other side of the market. It was all very quaint, mom and pop shops and the such, I rounded the hall and came across a studio for latin ballroom dance lessons. “Dance lessons?” I entertained the idea. “Well I would, but I don’t have a partner or the right shoes”. My eyes moved to the right to a pair of leopard print salsa heels displayed in the window. “I would almost prefer the shoes over the partner”. As my mind contemplated, my index finger briefly rubbed overtop of the raised numbers on my credit card…..
XoRachel
Beginning to New Beginnings
Aug 3 2009
So I finally made the big move to back to Calgary, the city where I was born. What few memories I have of the city no longer serve me as I landed at Calgary international Airport and feel just as much as a tourist as anyone else there. For the last seventeen years of my life I have resided in Toronto, filled with culture, fashion, food and excitement. After years of living the life of a wanna-be socialite; spending, rather over-spending, then when I was maxed on my credit cards I could still usually find a way to spend more. I wouldn’t say I was out of control or that I had a problem… Not until four months ago anyways, when all of sudden I received a big slap in the face, no actually it was a kick in the butt, from the universe. I was working for a large law firm as a corporate/commercial legal assistant, when all of a sudden this thing called a “recession” actually effected me! Jobless and living in downtown Toronto, I lived ignorantly and unchanged by the situation. I shopped and socialized; even more so now as I had no worries of sleeping through the alarm or being late. My bed and I quickly rekindled a relationship of sleeping in till noon together. Now don’t get me wrong, I certainly still had prerogatives and priorities. For the first three months however, after sending out resume after resume, to no fruition, I still lived by a personal mantra of “Don’t even worry about it.”
Then eventually as all good things do certainly come to an end, my July credit card statements came. The bright red and bolded wording, while familiar to me, made my hands shake as I read. For this time I had no means of undoing the damage. The tiny savings I had slowly had been eaten away by rent, insurance and all the other necessities to barely maintain above the poverty line. Then one day, I can’t recall which exactly; the sky came down, like Atlas finally being overcome by the world on his shoulders. I was sitting on my couch, flipping channels with no direction, only to have the noise drown out my rapid thoughts. I stopped on “Oprah”, for only a second. She turned to her guest, Tonya Harding, (It was a show on past headline makers and where are they now.) She turned to her and said “You can’t be afraid to live your best life.” In that moment, that great “aha!” moment, I knew the changes that needed to be made.
Over the next month I sold my car, my furniture. All my gorgeous designer pillows, custom made end tables, luxury cottons, imported woven rugs and other home effects, accessories and electronics I had attained in the wild ravaging of what I will from here forth refer to as “my past life” gone. After my apartment was hollowed out just the skeletal walls remaining, I needed to attack the guts and heart of my “past life”. My closet, a beautiful four foot deep walk in closest. Three hanging shoe racks, 118 wooden hangers, a dresser full of foldable clothing and my winter wardrobe. I looked over my shoulder to see if the two suitcases I had to try to fit it all into were laughing at me. Each dress, skirt, blouse, pair of shoes I pulled down, desperately trying to fold it as small and tight as possible so that I could take more with me. Each garment like a child. How could I possibly leave any of them behind? My emotions took over, not unlike Uma Thurman in Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2. I was enraged that I was there, doing what I was doing. What I had to do. So “I roared, I rampaged and I got bloody satisfaction.” With no consideration or hesitation my hands began tearing articles off hangers, Clothes out of drawers, throwing them with ferocity across the room into two piles. Keep and leave. When the hangers all hung bare, swinging back an fourth on the rails, somewhat hypnotically, what was now in my suitcases could barely fill a third of the space. Then my heart sank. MY SHOES! All forty three pairs still hung on the back wall and both my suitcases already full. I felt nauseous, completely petrified. When it was over, I could not believe what I had done. I had chosen only three pairs to come with me.
The next week I slowly said goodbye to my friends, many of them somewhat happy to see me leave. Only because of the shopping bags full of my dissected wardrobe that I was passing onto them. The usual lines were exchanged; I will call, visit, email, keep in touch, will miss you etc etc etc. On my last night in that city that cost me so much, there was a farewell gathering for me. At my request it was not held out at a lavish restaurant or high end club. Rather, at my best friend’s condo where no money was needed to be spent. I received many a raised eyebrow when I suggested it but I needed to start embracing my new life and by extension lifestyle.
The next morning I arrived at Lester B Pearson. Me and the entirety of my possessions, all that I had to show for myself stowed in the cargo of an airplane. Heading to a place where I knew no one, had nothing. I kept trying to remember those words from Oprah “don’t be afraid to live your best life”….I was in no mood though. “Give me a break Oprah.” I thought, “She still has her closet filled, hell she probably has an entire house just for closest space, girl never had to give away her designer heels.” The self- loathing and pity grew as I crossed the Canadian skies. Even at thrity thousand feet I still felt crushed by the weight of everything. After four hours I arrived in Calgary. I thought it clever when I glanced at my watch, then up at the clock by baggage claim. “Well not a bad start, I am already two hours ahead of myself.”
XO Rachel Reborn
So I finally made the big move to back to Calgary, the city where I was born. What few memories I have of the city no longer serve me as I landed at Calgary international Airport and feel just as much as a tourist as anyone else there. For the last seventeen years of my life I have resided in Toronto, filled with culture, fashion, food and excitement. After years of living the life of a wanna-be socialite; spending, rather over-spending, then when I was maxed on my credit cards I could still usually find a way to spend more. I wouldn’t say I was out of control or that I had a problem… Not until four months ago anyways, when all of sudden I received a big slap in the face, no actually it was a kick in the butt, from the universe. I was working for a large law firm as a corporate/commercial legal assistant, when all of a sudden this thing called a “recession” actually effected me! Jobless and living in downtown Toronto, I lived ignorantly and unchanged by the situation. I shopped and socialized; even more so now as I had no worries of sleeping through the alarm or being late. My bed and I quickly rekindled a relationship of sleeping in till noon together. Now don’t get me wrong, I certainly still had prerogatives and priorities. For the first three months however, after sending out resume after resume, to no fruition, I still lived by a personal mantra of “Don’t even worry about it.”
Then eventually as all good things do certainly come to an end, my July credit card statements came. The bright red and bolded wording, while familiar to me, made my hands shake as I read. For this time I had no means of undoing the damage. The tiny savings I had slowly had been eaten away by rent, insurance and all the other necessities to barely maintain above the poverty line. Then one day, I can’t recall which exactly; the sky came down, like Atlas finally being overcome by the world on his shoulders. I was sitting on my couch, flipping channels with no direction, only to have the noise drown out my rapid thoughts. I stopped on “Oprah”, for only a second. She turned to her guest, Tonya Harding, (It was a show on past headline makers and where are they now.) She turned to her and said “You can’t be afraid to live your best life.” In that moment, that great “aha!” moment, I knew the changes that needed to be made.
Over the next month I sold my car, my furniture. All my gorgeous designer pillows, custom made end tables, luxury cottons, imported woven rugs and other home effects, accessories and electronics I had attained in the wild ravaging of what I will from here forth refer to as “my past life” gone. After my apartment was hollowed out just the skeletal walls remaining, I needed to attack the guts and heart of my “past life”. My closet, a beautiful four foot deep walk in closest. Three hanging shoe racks, 118 wooden hangers, a dresser full of foldable clothing and my winter wardrobe. I looked over my shoulder to see if the two suitcases I had to try to fit it all into were laughing at me. Each dress, skirt, blouse, pair of shoes I pulled down, desperately trying to fold it as small and tight as possible so that I could take more with me. Each garment like a child. How could I possibly leave any of them behind? My emotions took over, not unlike Uma Thurman in Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2. I was enraged that I was there, doing what I was doing. What I had to do. So “I roared, I rampaged and I got bloody satisfaction.” With no consideration or hesitation my hands began tearing articles off hangers, Clothes out of drawers, throwing them with ferocity across the room into two piles. Keep and leave. When the hangers all hung bare, swinging back an fourth on the rails, somewhat hypnotically, what was now in my suitcases could barely fill a third of the space. Then my heart sank. MY SHOES! All forty three pairs still hung on the back wall and both my suitcases already full. I felt nauseous, completely petrified. When it was over, I could not believe what I had done. I had chosen only three pairs to come with me.
The next week I slowly said goodbye to my friends, many of them somewhat happy to see me leave. Only because of the shopping bags full of my dissected wardrobe that I was passing onto them. The usual lines were exchanged; I will call, visit, email, keep in touch, will miss you etc etc etc. On my last night in that city that cost me so much, there was a farewell gathering for me. At my request it was not held out at a lavish restaurant or high end club. Rather, at my best friend’s condo where no money was needed to be spent. I received many a raised eyebrow when I suggested it but I needed to start embracing my new life and by extension lifestyle.
The next morning I arrived at Lester B Pearson. Me and the entirety of my possessions, all that I had to show for myself stowed in the cargo of an airplane. Heading to a place where I knew no one, had nothing. I kept trying to remember those words from Oprah “don’t be afraid to live your best life”….I was in no mood though. “Give me a break Oprah.” I thought, “She still has her closet filled, hell she probably has an entire house just for closest space, girl never had to give away her designer heels.” The self- loathing and pity grew as I crossed the Canadian skies. Even at thrity thousand feet I still felt crushed by the weight of everything. After four hours I arrived in Calgary. I thought it clever when I glanced at my watch, then up at the clock by baggage claim. “Well not a bad start, I am already two hours ahead of myself.”
XO Rachel Reborn
Prologue
The Following notes will be a written account of my life and experiences in Calgary. Hopefully people will feel a connection and comment, provide advice and feedback in any form. I have always had aspirations to be a journalist however, at this point in my life I am flagrantly distant from that path. The Limbo I have lived my life in for the past 5 years has been nothing if wreckless... It was amazing. This will be my journey to see if I can find that joy again by other means.
Xo Rachel
Xo Rachel
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