día de los muertos

|photography: remi theriault| assistant: david mccraig| models: jennilee murray and joe marques| 
|MUA: ashley lebrun| styling: me|

These images from a shoot I did way back in August just landed in my inbox and suit the mood of the day perfectly so I thought I'd post a few of my favorites. 
It was a great shoot with a great team. We spent most of the day in a cement lot outside an abandoned big-top-looking flea market. Afterwards we headed to a church on sparks street while we worked under a setting sun so red it resembled mercury.  

happy halloween


camera obscura

1. See this sweater. It's from Nixxi.  I'll be wearing it a lot over the next month. It's the main attraction of an experiment I'm doing in collaboration with Ef magazine launching the first week of November. Stay tuned.
2. The right light. It's more important to me than any cosmetic I've ever owned. In fact, every year on my birthday, when asked what I want, the answer is always "good lighting."
As of late, I've also become really interested in industrial-like furniture and lamps. I'm hoping to start on a few projects--like this lamp-- that will (hopefully) keep me busy once the temperature drops and my instinct for hibernating kicks in,   
3. Two sides of the light on nepean street.
4. I've been wearing a lot of oversized white-ish wool sweaters as messy dresses, in-a-pinch jackets and in ways to make not-so-functional-outfits a dash more sensible.
5. I hate to judge a book by its cover, but overtly metrosexual men make it hard not to. This picture was taken at trio while teasing boys.
6. Last minute riffling
7. Shine on 
8. Another perfect sky
9. Photo by Joost Van Den Broek. I first saw it in part of the world photo expo in the summer and it's been stamped in my mind. I can't figure out if its the mona lisa smile, the crop of the image or the damn uniform, but I have become slightly obsessed with it.         


img via knightcat

michaela knizova


a room with a view

Life moves with horrendous speed. Sometimes it’s best to figure out where you're going so you know what to watch for as moments whiz by. By sticking to some plan, you might have a better shot at recovering slivers of memories. Whether they are real or imagined. You can at least retrace your steps and try to recall all the things you've done, or that have been done to you, that got you to where you are now.

I wish I could say that I’ve got a plan. But over the last week I’ve traded my plans for the unknown. My boyfriend and I parted ways after seven years of the most unusual, intense, meaningful, tragic and perfect relationship I've ever had. From the second I saw him, I was drawn to him. I kid you not, it was love at first sight. I remember walking over to him like a warrior princess going into battle. He was mine and no one would get in the way.  We were each other’s black magic and together our lives became electric. I remember the first thing I ever wrote him, I said I would eviscerated myself and present him my internal organs so he knew he had everything I could possibly give him. Dramatic? Just a touch. But I meant every word of it.

We started this crazy little adventure by taking a risk and we are parting ways by taking another one. Uncertainty scares the shit out of me, but if there is one thing you should know, I love a good scare. If my life is a horror movie, seeing that I’m not a voluptuous blonde, I’m sure that I’ll be one of the survivors.

I’ve been getting down to the sounds of Mayer Hawthorne and singing an ode to my divorce. Like a lady spider, I weave a web that makes it difficult to let go of anyone or anything all that easily. I’m not one to look back, but when you leave someone behind who was your world, it’s impossible not to. But I’ve made up my mind to make a new start and I’m excited about everything that could be, even with a slightly tainted heart. Its hard to say what we regret more, what we do or don’t do. I chose my side.

I guess sometimes you have to burn the house down to keep the dreams alive. So, I’m packing up my life and moving across town to a place with a new view, where I’ll wrap my wild dreams in a torched dress and walk them around town. I'm the girl that smells like a fire. Maybe I'll see you around.

permanent vacation

Its that time again. The time when my vain ears think you will love the same music as they do. Are they right or what?

Far from being on vacation, (but desperately, desperately wanting one), I can at least pretend to be elsewhere when this music is playing. Enjoy lovers. 

knit wit

My obsession with finding the whitest, softest knits led me to the king cobra scarf by textile designer Nanna van Blaaderen. I love the absolute ridiculous size of woven wool and the clean, rumpled aesthetic of her knits. Every piece looks perfectly hand-crafted and slightly psych ward.  


image ?
I'm an uninspired baad-baby blogger these days. So you get this- a bunch of crap about me you never wanted to know. x

where is your cellphone? good question. coat pocket?
your hair? loose bun
your mother? committed and strong
your father? kind, but hesitant
your favorite food? oysters
your dream last night? the plot of the Italian murder mystery film Giallo mixed with a magic puppet show experience
your favorite drink? champagne
your dream/goal? travel. working somewhere between fashion and art. eating ice cream for breakfast.
what room are you in? the room where the dancing tends to take place
your hobby? will be my career
your fear? mediocrity
where do you want to be in 6 years? hitting the town regularly on romantic rendezvous
where were you last night? out
something that you aren't? punctual
muffins? eat the top. ditch the bottom
wish list item? a holiday
where did you grow up? the prairies
last thing you did? took my top off. kidding. pressed repeat
what are you wearing? grey/silver escada mini dress. slouchy dusty-gold boots. geeky glasses.
your tv? doesn't exist
your pets? ingaborga, the cutest mini-schnauzer on the block
friends? a whipping good time
your life? instance vs happenstance
your mood? anxious
missing someone? everyday
vehicle? feet
something you're not wearing? a watch
your favorite store? drug store
when was the last time you laughed? today
last time you cried? yesterday
your best friend? a destructo girl
one place you go to over and over? the path along the river
one person who emails you regularly? spam
favorite place to eat? al fresco 

mugler ss12

ph gorunway
Thierry Mugler makes clothes that one mustn't fuck with.


basorexia-a craving or hunger for kissing
anne sorrentino

taxicab confessional

Only in the back of a taxicab at the stroke of midnight can a girl tell herself, "I want to be a songwriter" and mean it. Although this particular girl has never written a real song and can hardly hold a note, girls tend to be dreamy when they are chauffeured around after dark.  

The city has been a playpen for the restless lately. The wannabe songwriter and her posse have been bumping into all four corners of Ottawa's snug confines trying to rattle the cage. Some of the songbird's friends are toying with inclination, while other's are flirting with infatuation-clearly all are curious about matters of the heart and questioning the loves of their lives. The minute love starts clouding the brain of silly girls with scattered dreams they start to act like someone in a high fever-bizarre, nervous and fantastic. These girls begin to gaze at everyone wondering if they are their true love, the one destined for them and whether they might be passing them by forever.

Pitted against one another, head vs heart is an unfair fight, wouldn't you say. One knows the outcome, while the other calls the shots. The songbird and her girls may want to give up on love and go back to dreaming in the backseat of cars. 


givenchy FW11
If February is the month of love and July is the month to give into lust, then September is the month to wear Agent Provacateur lingerie underneath a smart trenchcoat and walk around seducing the city. September is fashion. September is desire; desire to dress sharply, look chicer and toss out the old in order to welcome the new. With all the post-fashion week buzz going on world-wide and in Ottawa, I’ve felt compelled to put some thought into what’s actually going on in the fashion world.  No. I won’t bore you with a list of what hot and what’s not, nor will I try to fake my way through a trend report. But lately, in the always theatrical fashion world, I’ve noticed a trend in synchronicity. People are becoming enlightened with universal connectivity.  

Living in a world crammed with information, and having it all at our fingertips, things can get noisy. We often don’t hear the right notes in a rhythmic succession when they are drowned out by the toneless ones. Over the last year media, technology and especially fashion have focused on curation more than ever to cut through to what’s authentic.

Once upon a time, fashion was exclusive. Only specific industry insiders were invited to attend, take part, comment and engage in the stylish scene. This is not the case anymore. Bloggers, magazines (on and offline), designers, spokespeople and fashion followers are emerging quicker than I can type s-a-t-o-r-i-a-l-i-s-t.  Whether or not the doors to this coveted world were opened up or knocked down, one things is for sure-we no longer receive information about fashion from a single omniscient source. Fashion is interpreted, represented, mocked and criticized in countless ways by a myriad of perspectives. This change towards a more scopic attitude in the industry makes me happy. I think the more individualism in any field grants opportunity for greater innovation. However, inclusivity leads to oversaturation, which leads to overkill. This is why it is necessary that the tastemakers stay true to their aesthetic, in both design and direction. The industry leaders should be the ones to represent the truest form of autheticity within a conceptual framework that encompasses, but is larger than, any of the systems that display synchronicity.


Digging these looks.