Monday morning, checking out the pictures from the Golden Globes I was surprised, there were a lot of disasters on the red carpet. fFom Sandra Bullocks purple transparent garbage bag of a dress, to Mariah’s melon hammock. When I clicked across and saw Tina Fey, all I could think of was ‘Tina Fey…. Quit trying to be a lady. It just doesn’t work on her.
I turned my attention away from the computer and back to the mat on the floor where I should be laying and doing crunches. Part of my new year’s resolution is to gain more structure and routine in my life. Starting in the mornings, rather than battling the snooze button several times, I let the radio play and tune into Chris & Meg in the morning on Energy 101.5. I would prefer to wake up to a real man (not that I mind Meg being there) rather than a voice on the radio, but I am sure these two are far more reliable. Even after six months here I still get lost and home sick when trying to figure out where to go and what to do. So I feel somewhat sympathetic towards Chris. He recently moved to Calgary as well so even though he doesn’t know it, I feel that we have bonded as strangers to a new home. No it’s not very often that I wake up to a strange man.
After spending far too long on the computer, foregoing blasting my abs ( for the third day in a row. I do have good intentions about this whole structure and routine resolution.) I proceeded to get ready for work, When I put on my jacket and gave one last look in the mirror to check my angles, I sighed. I knew it was getting close to retire one of the key pieces of this past fall season: the leather jacket. Since it was such a distinctive look for the fall/winter, I knew it wouldn’t be possible to carry it over. It is a sad departure, a good winter coat is like a good man, worth the investment and keeps you warm on cold nights.
To solve this problem I can rely on my resolution of finding structure. One trend that will carry over into spring is a strong shoulder. Where military and safari inspired silhouettes have been implemented in fall lines in the past, they will crop up this spring, Light cargo, camo and organic colors with bold shoulders, ruffles and folds for detailing and unique metallic embellishments. As always fit and proportion are key. The only problem with finding the perfect spring coat (again like a man) is you never know if it will suit the weather tomorrow.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Not So Silent Nights
Back in Calgary, I chose to attend the first Thursday at Art Central alone (all part of my new years resolution to see more of the city). I pass the building every day on the way to work and never get the chance to go in. The first Thursday of each month, the galleries stay open late, there is live music and cocktails, so far its been the culural highlight of Calgary. Maybe my contacts were just dry, or I was still recovering from new years but the canvas and its colors seemed to radiate, bounce about. I had never seen hues like these before, perhaps forgotten what color really was. I wondered to myself how people become so talented and why there isn’t more for collaborations between artists and designers. To find colors and prints like this on a bag, skirt, dress or shirt would be to die for. Hypnotized and thoughtful, from gallery to gallery I gladly remembered the last two weeks and all the joy of the holiday season.
It was non stop reunions of charismatic chaos. From the second I landed back in Toronto and felt the movement of the city I had fled it seemed to begin again. It was freezing, worse than Calgary. Throughout my visit I caught up with old friends in what were our usual haunts and a few unfamiliar ones, some of the charms of Toronto still existed during this time of year for me, like the moving display in the windows of the Bay near Young street, the amazing shopping of the Eaton Centre (Victoria secret pink stores – stocked up on the unmentionables for a decent price). Hy’s Steak house and Hamilton Place where we spotted Stewart Mclean from Vinyl Café and one of my favourite places; The Joyce.
We laughed, we drank, we shopped, and we ate. Did everything the holidays dictate to do. At least once a day I would see one of my old gal pals wearing something that used to belong to me, a Stella McCartney sweater here, a pair of Choo’s there, the fashion show would continue in front of me from day to night. Some of the girls would comment on how much they loved the items others would pretend they didn’t remember where they came from, as though they owned (and paid for) those Betsey J skirts and Miu Miu shirts their entire life. Maybe they were afraid I would ask for them back. I was glad they were being enjoyed though. It was kind of like seeing an ex with a new girlfriend. When you finally see it you know it is no longer yours.
On the 31st, New Years Eve, I was back at the Toronto International Airport, bag behind me. Boarding a plane to Vegas with more or less of a stranger that I had just met the night before. His name was Jim; he was exactly what you would expect from a Jim. This great big mountain man type with a booming voice like the Green Giant kinda, less green though. I was introduced to him the previous evening at dinner, turned out he was visiting from Calgary as well and we had mutual friends in Toronto. So there we were, eating, drinking and talking about experiences in Calgary when he asked about my plans for New Years. The conversation evolved and the glasses kept being refilled and by the end of the night (I realized the following morning) I had agreed to go to Vegas with him to see Tiesto in concert! It was surreal, it was stupid. I’ve been putting off looking at all the things that could have gone wrong. Somehow I was lucky enough not to be left in Vegas in a body bag. Let’s hope that luck continues throughout the year.
It was non stop reunions of charismatic chaos. From the second I landed back in Toronto and felt the movement of the city I had fled it seemed to begin again. It was freezing, worse than Calgary. Throughout my visit I caught up with old friends in what were our usual haunts and a few unfamiliar ones, some of the charms of Toronto still existed during this time of year for me, like the moving display in the windows of the Bay near Young street, the amazing shopping of the Eaton Centre (Victoria secret pink stores – stocked up on the unmentionables for a decent price). Hy’s Steak house and Hamilton Place where we spotted Stewart Mclean from Vinyl Café and one of my favourite places; The Joyce.
We laughed, we drank, we shopped, and we ate. Did everything the holidays dictate to do. At least once a day I would see one of my old gal pals wearing something that used to belong to me, a Stella McCartney sweater here, a pair of Choo’s there, the fashion show would continue in front of me from day to night. Some of the girls would comment on how much they loved the items others would pretend they didn’t remember where they came from, as though they owned (and paid for) those Betsey J skirts and Miu Miu shirts their entire life. Maybe they were afraid I would ask for them back. I was glad they were being enjoyed though. It was kind of like seeing an ex with a new girlfriend. When you finally see it you know it is no longer yours.
On the 31st, New Years Eve, I was back at the Toronto International Airport, bag behind me. Boarding a plane to Vegas with more or less of a stranger that I had just met the night before. His name was Jim; he was exactly what you would expect from a Jim. This great big mountain man type with a booming voice like the Green Giant kinda, less green though. I was introduced to him the previous evening at dinner, turned out he was visiting from Calgary as well and we had mutual friends in Toronto. So there we were, eating, drinking and talking about experiences in Calgary when he asked about my plans for New Years. The conversation evolved and the glasses kept being refilled and by the end of the night (I realized the following morning) I had agreed to go to Vegas with him to see Tiesto in concert! It was surreal, it was stupid. I’ve been putting off looking at all the things that could have gone wrong. Somehow I was lucky enough not to be left in Vegas in a body bag. Let’s hope that luck continues throughout the year.
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