an ode to villains



Dear Villians,

Its Halloween today! I know that some of you out there are not monsters or ghouls, but you are still evil which means we can celebrate you today without looking too sadistic or demented. Don't worry your treachery is important to the dynamic of relationships and for plot-thickening year round, however, I am free to write you this love letter and not seem as crazy by doing it today.

In no particular order, here are a few shout outs to my favorite deviants out there:

Hannibal Lector (Silence of the Lambs)

You have forever etched your maniacal intelligence into my mind. Your refined barbarism made me re-define what scary really is. I remember watching you for the first time when I was really little and my mom said "No, you would give me nightmares", but i said "Yes. It takes a lot to scare me". Well you achieved the unachievable. I have developed a not-so-secret love of your character and every movie about you has become my guilty pleasure flick that I watch monthly. Religiously. 

Joan Crawford (Mommie Dearest)

You are one mean bitch. I know that your wicked ways were revealed by your daughter's tell-all, but I really hope
 this movie is dramatized by Hollywood for ratings because you left a lot of people speechless with your cruelty. 
I can never look at wire coat hangers the same.

Disney


 Ooh! You may take the cake for sheer evilness. Skinning puppies. Trickery. Poisoned fruit. Yes, the odds are definitely stacked against you but I am sure you don't mind. You did always manage to be the most fashionable out of all the villains. I know I sure couldn't stay mad at a woman wearing fur for too long. 


Pennywise the Dancing Clown (Stephen King's IT)


I hated even googling this monster's face. If there was one movie that I watched as a child and still fear to this day, it is IT. I got nervous and afraid watching this movie when I was twelve and I get nervous and afraid watching this movie now. Clowns are frighteningly unpredictable.

Connie and Raymond Marble (Pink Flamingos)

Quite possibly my favorite movie ever. The antagonistic Marbles are two jealous perverts trying to steal the title of Filthiest People Alive from Babs Johnson. They stop at no end to out filth, ranging from sending fecal matter through the mail, burning down trailers and running an illegal lesbian adoption agency.

Frank Booth (Blue Velvet)


Some poignant words from Frank Booth:

“Shut up. It’s daddy. Shithead.”
“Hey shithead. That’s the last time I get you high and watch you freak out.”
“This beer’s gonna get too warm. I can’t stand fuckin’ warm beer. It makes me puke.”

Don Logan (Sexy Beast)


Don Logan may be one of the most shockingly foul-mouthed, spite-filled charcters in film history. Every line he mutters, even in some cases if it is a compliment is so utterly menacing, it makes your spine curl up and freeze. Terrifying!



fashion smashion

It is just me or did Ottawa Fashion Week completely overshadow Halloween? Or maybe it's the other way around. Either way, there are a lot of people roaming the Ottawa downtown decked out in their alter ego costumes.

Going in to Day 2 of Ottawa Fashion Week, I have been a little swept up in the busy-busy hustle and bustle of the shows and all that accompanies fashion-fused events like the one this weekend. In fact, myself and a few other "creative" types that I consort with have toyed with the idea of throwing away all of our idealistic notions of being  ethical and true to our "art-forms", if you will, for a taste of the good life: to be full-time socialites. What do you think? Does Ottawa even have any socialites? Maybe some scene-regulars or a few people who always know how to get into the parties where the wine is free, but REAL socialites...I don't think so. 

Noted by another party-goer last night: who was in the past Governor General Michaelle Jean's entourage? She seems like the kinda lady who might mix with some interesting sorts. Well, if any of you have an in with MJ, let a sistah know, would ya!

Anyways, enough toying with the idea of parties rather than meetings and sex tapes instead of 
 published articles.

I won't dive into too many details of the events at OFW until the end of the weekend, but rest assured there will be plenty of photos and reviews to come! In the meantime, here's a song to get loose to because now's the time for dancing. Its Saturday!
I


Refueling at Ada's Diner this morning for tonight's activities

aunt olive's vintage jacket, bb dakota dress, spring boots, hat from nyc, aldo necklace






i prefer an interesting vice to a virtue that bores


No, I didn't come up with that gem of a line. That was Molière. But I have been thinking a lot about overrated virtues and under-valued vices.

Jealousy vs Fairness
Vanity vs Modesty
Rage vs Self-control
Injustice vs Integrity
Lust vs Virginity
Regular vs Decaf

There are times when our virtues can dull down our reactionary response and contour us into seemingly well-adapted members of society. Normal. Fair. And impartial. Everyone marching along to the monotonous drone of diplomacy and etiquette. 

But selfishness can be provoking.

Embracing some of our vices  can make others stare wide-eyed, surprised by the complete and utter regard for your own wants and needs. It also makes you entirely accountable for your own actions, your own choices. There is no one/thing/law/rule/societal reason to blame for the outcome of your choice or reaction but YOURSELF, and that's a lot of pressure. So perhaps we hide behind our virtues, afraid to be accountable for our real desires? 

Vice or virtue. Good or bad? Will we always need to chose the righteous path over the individualist want? What's it all worth in the end? Maybe nothing more than a pack of Marlboros. Maybe not.

Oh yes. And fashion of course.

(vintage knit and scarf, H&M black dress, Lucky belt, DIY floral bracelet)

x







lots of jewelry worn all at once with the comfiest most worn in t-shirt


That's what I'm into right now. 
I have been going through a phase of wearing nothing but multiple long scarves, beat-up cotton shirts, baggy denim and loose skirts paired with some bad-ass shoes.


Call it gypsy take over. Call it laziness. Call it whatever you want. 


But I am feeling a bit anti-fashion, anti-rules over the last few days. 

Maybe its because Ottawa Fashion Week is coming up and I am tired of hearing the word FASHION thrown about in conversation in a way that is vomit-inducing to me; a way that conjures up images of Sex and the City characters and gay-boyfriend companions and giggling about vagina issues over martinis. No thanks!


There is so much more to fashion than a half-assed runway show and a bunch of people herded together in a room, standing around looking deadpan and taking themselves too seriously. Fashion, in this form, sure has a way of setting you up to be the worst version of yourself: judgmental, materialistic, artificial and vain. 


As I continue to type this, I can see how some of you may think I am completely disillusioned and hypocritical, because this here blog could be considered a bit of a fashion blog; that and I work in the industry as a stylist.

I have always loved certain elements of fashion and there is no denying that. I love dressing up and dressing down and using my mood, a film,character from a film, a line from Architectural Digest or a $2 shirt from a yard sale to inspire me to create my daily personna and how people initially react to me.

Clothing and asserting a sense of style has always been instinctual for me.

As far back as I can remember I have always had an infinity for clothing, material, texture, magazine editorials, images of pretty girls, fantasy...all of it! I like to look at clothing and think of it as a puzzle: what can I do to with these pieces to express myself and how I am feeling, all while looking cohesive and interesting and feeling confident.

There is a part of me that wants to thrust my identity out into the world, and another part that cherishes privacy. Fashion has always been a way to subtly indulge in that playful exhibitionism.

Ottawa and fashion have a very interesting relationship. It seems like they are always at ends with one another and year after year, groups of people take it upon themselves to fend for the rights that this city be considered a fashion mecca.

The problem with the majority of fashion-related events in Ottawa is that there is never any depth to the event.It is a shallow swim in a pool with a bunch of sharks in stilettos gliding past one another, staring, scanning, and sizing you and the rest of the room up with their cold black eyes.

There is never any dialog accompanying any of the fashion shows or reasons other than to "be seen" and party that these shows ever seem to exist. I am not saying that fashion should or even could inspire much talk that would enlighten a population, but there are many elements of the practice that we have not explored yet, at least in this city. Living in Ottawa, which has such a vibrant artistic community and a population that always has an opinion on what is going on within current affairs and community-related issues, it would be refreshing (and about time) to start ruminating about why we love fashion, why we hate it, and how is it contributing to our identity, our community and our culture.

I will be at Ottawa Fashion Week covering all the action for Guerilla Magazine this weekend and I suppose I am looking forward to my brief swim with the sharks, where both the danger and the excitement will exist on my peripherals. And with my fingers crossed and my hopes high, I will be on mission to uncover the soul of the show and chat with some of Ottawa's stylish insiders to get their take on the state of fashion in the city.

For more information on Ottawa Fashion Week go here.


On a non-fashion related note, did any of you check out the Ottawa Animation Festival? 
Holy moly! 
It was so captivating and dark and beautiful! I had the pleasure of hitting up the Bytowne Cinema for the last night of the festival to check out all the winners from the festival and this film won for Best Music Video. Watch it! You’ll see why! 


timing the beat of my heart


Do you ever dream so much that you start to scare yourself? Do you make it your mission to drive your body and mind into a situation that is so foreign or strange to you, only for the purpose of feeling something new, like someone new? Do you ever want to shock your system so brutally that you purr yes or scream no without hesitation or fear of repercussions? 

Do you ever tell strangers lies because you may never get to utter a sentence like, " I'm a poet. I collect fallen butterflies and I am afraid of the dark"  and have someone actually believe you, even for a second? 

Have you ever just wanted to jump in the lake, naked and cold and swim until you  need to scream for help? Or climb that rooftop and flicker your toes over the edge imagining you could fly? Sneak into the lobby and fuck in the men's room or out run the security guards, laughing the whole time?




We are never as safe as we imagine ourselves to be and I think this may be the weekend to rediscover all of the fallen fantasies that have been slowly suffocating and breath life back into them. 

canal

theory pants, zara sweater and bag, danier belt,  FCUK shirt,vintage scarf


and this is the reason why



There is nothing better than being reminded in the most unexpected of ways why you love the city you live in.


Example 1: While taking my dog for a walk late the other night, a man standing on the corner of the street, slowly and seductively lowered his sweat pants to show me his butt.

This was no drunk college student looking to get a laugh from his friends; this was a man in his mid-late 40s, standing alone in the street, wearing what looked like pizza-grease stained sweat pants, who made AND maintained direct eye-contact with me while lowering the elastic waist of his bottoms. He then exposed his bare-ass to me. I politely smiled, nodded my head and continued about my walk.

In any other big city, I’d like to think that flashers and exhibitionists are as common as hot dog vendors and Amnesty International advocates as they are in Ottawa, so when a pleasantly bizarre interaction happens here, it is definitely more note-worthy and a lovely reminder that this place is maybe a bit seedier than we would like to think.

Example 2: Taylor’s Genuine Food and Wine Bar! I was treated to a lovely dinner by an even lovelier companion  the other night at Taylor’s, which just opened up in old Ottawa south, and my my my, it was one of the best dining experiences I have had in the city yet.

I have a lot of friends that work in the industry and as a vetern myself, I can say that Ottawa is definitely a food snob city. We love our dim lighting, new speak-easys,  small plates, locavorious-inspired menus, celebrity chefs and usually anything from Mariposa Farm. Don't you agree? No need to deny our elitism here. Lets just admit it and say this societal characteristic positively adds to our local appeal, culture and makes for some good eatin!

Taylor’s is a fairly new joint, playing loud indie music in a tight little nook waaay down Bank street. The service was casual, cool and seamless, as was the food. I’ll spare you the details of the meal since a. I have no photos of the food and b. I am not much of a food-blogger plus my tastes are….questionably sometimes ( for those that read this and know me, they can attest that on many occasions I considered spoonfuls of Nutella straight from the jar a delicacy). But don;t let my tastes deter you. If you live in Ottawa this is a place you surely won’t be disappointed in!


This was a quick shot taken right before I darted off to make my dinner reservation. The photo does not really do the shirt justice. It is crafted by an Edmonton designer called Morena who uses bits of fur, supple leather, rich suede, yarn and various bits of wools and cottons then combines all the bits to create 100% eccentric, sexy and form fitting pieces. i'd like to think of it as the-sum-is-greater-than-the-parts sorta fashion.
I will have to wear this piece again soon and take clearer pictures so you can appreciate how fantastic it actually is.
Happy Hump Day all! (and in case you are in the area of Cartier and Maclaren, this is your warning that a midnight  butt flasher may be lurking nearby)

isabel marant

Love this interview and love Isabel Marant. Is anyone else hoping the upcoming seasonal tragedy, also know as winter, comes and goes fast so we can get back into spring time minis and light, casual layers?
I sure am!







isabel marant S/S 2011 paris

your heart is like mine, filled with all things benign

Once upon a time, a much younger version of myself would have easily been able to accomplish the amount of champagne-sipping, trouble-making, party-attending, scandalous-dress-wearing, mischief-making activity in one weekend like I did this past without batting an eye. In fact, this girl from the past would probably not even dream of sitting in front of a computer on a Sunday night, organizing photos and googling pictures of puppies.

But I am not that girl anymore. 

After a wine-fueled weekend that had me saying farewell to a dear friend moving to the west coast, travelling to the burbs for a wedding shower, gala hopping and enduring music so bad it could be considered a crime at a nearby dive bar, I am exhausted. 
My ankles are swollen from the 5 inch heels that my feet were living in, my pillows forgot what my face looks like and I am even having trouble stringing together a proper sentence to describe this fatigue. Tired? Yes. Worth it? Double yes.


Here are a few snapshots taken from the Arc Hotel's 10th anniversary party hosted by BlackBook Lifestyle, a new creative firm in Ottawa that I am proudly part of!

Miss Hilary Seymour giving me an impromptu photography lesson


Tony Martins from Guerilla Magazine and I laughing a little bit too hard at our own jokes.

Now back to the good old grind!
x

only doing it to weed out the wimps

Attention Ottawa readers: get your voices heard or at least tell the rest of the city where you can score the best pho!

Yes. It is that time of year again: the ottawa xpress BEST OF voting time!

 (picture source unknown)

Now, if you are anything like me, you are probably shaking your head, wondering who the hell the ottawa xpress think they are, listing and dictating what is, ahem, "hot or not" in our fair city.

If I may be so bold; I think that anyone in this city that has any ounce of interest in keeping up with the times can agree that the xpress is the most pitiful excuse for a cultural publication EVER. I mean, can something thinner than my fingernail even be considered a publication? Really? I hate to be the one to say it, although I highly doubt I am the only one, but every Thursday when the new issue drops and I see some standardized promo picture on the front cover detailing some person or event that has little to no direct local cultural relevance, I really have to hold myself back from marching straight into the office of this theoretically domestic paper and politely delivering a note that has nothing more than 'you suck' scribbled on it. (NOTE: this is not a jab at any of the writers at the xpress, we all know you are caught up in a bureaucratic web you can't control, so don't be sending me any mean emails; save that rage for the page and start writing what you really want to write about, mmk)

This is the one time of year that the xpress actually becomes significantly pertinent to our artistic community members and local businesses, so show your support and vote for the people, places and things that turn this humble government mecca into a thriving influential community. Go here. Thanks.

Oh and this is what I wore today while fueling for my rant.

(ebase vest, zara dress, vintage belt, report boots, KAJ purse, gifted scarf)


While I'm at it and you're in the voting mood, this is another election you may want to take part in. Just a suggestion.

lessons learned

My my my. Hump day has come and practically gone already. The days sure go by fast when you are restoring your life from the bizarro, and in some cases, unfortunate chain of events that happened this past long weekend. 

Now you might think this post is going to be a description of the nitty gritty details of how this weekend had me losing my identity at an electric pow-wow, a friendly misunderstanding with Quebec officers and an extraordinary coincidental meeting with a man I had never met, but we are connected by a picture of a tattoo; but, i swear, if i told you, you probably wouldn't believe me. 

Instead this post is more of a fashion "how to": how to make one dress work for both a sage-smudging seance and a day time look.

 1. Set up materials.
Needed: candles, matches, cigarettes, sparkling wine, sage, music, your friend's newly acquired apartment




2. Fire

3. Dance around house banishing bad omens or spirits


4 Attire

Don't be predictable. I say seance, you think black, right? Choose something that makes you look like you don't need to prove your smudging and chanting abilities to anyone. It's not the costume that is going to banish those bad omens, is it? 
Wear something comfortable; something that uninhibits your freedom and wild moves. Don't wear too many bangles, fringe or anything that could easily catch fire.

Daytime. 
With a few key accessories, you can easily take the dress you wore at the divination and turn it into an appropriate outfit for 10am coffee sippin and park walking.

Throw on an over-sized sweater or coat to give it that casual-cool look, also if you accidentally burned holes in the sleeve of your dress your coat will hide that little blunddr. The coat pictured is by eco-frindly, Toronto-based clothing company Passenger Pigeon
Wear flats. Your feet are probably sore from all the dancing the night before. no need to hurt yourself now.(pictured Diesel boots).
Tights. You may have felt it appropriate to be fiercely tight-less the night before, I mean, you probably were a bit sweaty with all the fire and frolicking, but it is daytime and it is Fall girls. Lets keep it classy, ok?



Seance.

Daytime.

I hope you 've learned something today. Until tomorrow's fashion adventure, bon nuit!