I didn’t have a lot to do this weekend, which means I wandered around spending money on things I don’t need.  Here is an analysis of my stupid purchases:

Item: Vintage 70′s Denim Vest
Purchased at: Trinity Bellwoods Giant Yard Sale
Cost: $3.00
Why I Bought It: SORRY, DID YOU SEE THE PICTURE?  COME. ON.
Wearability: a 4 out of 10.  Can wear Canadian Tuxedo styles with jeans or like, with other things… I don’t know… I’ll figure it out… IT’S AN AWESOME VEST, COME ON.

Item: Vintage 90′s Floral Flippy Mini Skirt
Purchased at: Philistine
Cost: $35.00
Why I Bought It: It’s getting frigging hot and I need things that are short but that aren’t *actual* shorts because my legs look like sausages in actual shorts.
Wearability: a 6 out of 10.  Very wearable for casual stuff and the navy goes with a lot.  Can’t wear to work as is too slutty.

Item: Vintage Cole Haan Tassle Loafers
Purchased at: Philistine
Cost: $40.00
Why I Bought It: Although I have many many many pairs of shoes, and many pairs of loafer-type things, I do not have a black pair.  AND these are fucking adorable.  Jesus.
Wearability: a 7 out of 10.  Super comfortable and they are fancy enough to wear for more serious things.  Sometimes black flat shoes make my legs look like sausages though, so I need to be careful.

Item: Vintage 70′s Cotton Gauze Peasant-Boho-Hippie-Western-Cool-Girl Maxi Dress
Purchased at: Silver Falls Vintage
Cost: $35.00
Why I Bought It: I DON’T KNOW.  THERE IS NO REASON.
Wearability: a 2 out of 10.  Where am I going to wear this fucking thing?  Nowhere.  Never.  It just makes me happy that I have it sitting in my closet and that I can put it on and do pirouettes and feel like a 70′s hippie princess every couple of weeks, and it hides my sausage legs.  Don’t judge me.  I know you’re jealous.

…give me two glasses of wine then play this:

When I found out I was going to have some free time in Santa Fe, my first course of action was to go into my bank account and calculate how much money I could spend on superfluous pieces of turquoise jewelry and unnecessary southwestern textiles.  Do I need either of these things?  Fuck no.

First thing I wanted to go see was the Native American Vendors Program, which is a government-sponsored/organized section of the local Governors building where Native American artists and vendors can sell their work to walkers-by.

There was a LOT of turquoise, and I pretty much plottzed.  I guess I thought because I was in New Mexico, the turquoise would be super cheap, and although it was definitely not as expensive as it is in Toronto, it really wasn’t crazy reduced.

There was lots of great silver-work, too.  I wanted this damn braided bracelet SO F-ING bad, but it was like $250 bucks and even with my superior bartering skills, I can’t afford that shit.  So I left it.  Devastating.  DEV-A-STA-TING!

First objective: get rings.  I liked this one, but the guy wasn’t budging on price and I was all like “forget you, guy”, and went on to the next booth.  As you can see, I am a shrewd and savvy negotiator.

In the end, I went a little bananas.  Three turquoise rings, and one sliver one.  I love them so much.  Even though they highlight the piglety-ness of my fingers, I shall wear them as often as I can.

My second objective was to do some vintage shopping, which is becoming an all-consuming need when I visit a new place.  I have a desire to buy something so that I can be all like “Yeah, whatever, I got it at a vintage store in <insert town here>.  No big deal.”  Since I only had one day, I did a bit of research before coming, and this place called Double Take came up many times.

Double Take is huge and has like, a bunch of sub-stores within it.  There is a main “regular thrift” store at the bottom, a “western and cowboy vintage” store to one side, a full-on crazy antique and furniture store on the top level, and like baby and kids stores on the side.  I went to the vintage cowboy section first.  OF COURSE.

I considered getting a pair of cowboy boots, but then I remembered that I have probably about seventeen pairs of cowboy boots already and I never wear them.  I actually restrained myself.  So proud.  Especially after my turquoise binge.

On to the hats.  I don’t know if you know, but I look *really* good in hats.  Like, all hats.  I think it’s because I have an abnormally large  gorilla-head, and hats balance out its size.  Here are some hats:

I *wish* I had the nutsack to wear the black hat below around, because I think its so FUCKING bad-ass.  However, it is also in “crazy-lady” territory if you can’t pull it off well.  I chose not to purchase it, because I already think my friends kind of feel like I”m a crazy-lady based on some of the other hats I own.  No need to fan the fires of crazy-lady talk.

Instead, I moved onto the vintage cowboy/southwestern wear and fell in damn-ass-poo LOVE with this off-the-shoulder southwestern fancy lady shirt.  BOUGHT.

Double Take is also where I found this weird two stone ring.  Most turquoise rings started at at least $70 USD, even for ones WAY smaller than this one, but for some reason this one was priced at $25.  Neither me nor any of the salespeople were able to determine why it was so cheap.  Stones and silver all real.  BOUGHT.

There was a *lot* of jewelry.  Bolo ties galore.  I really wanted that blue jug, too, but it was like $140 or some shit. Forget you, snooty expensive blue jug.

The last (I promise) turquoise thing I bought was this SWEET ASS Zuni necklace below.  The design is called the “Squash Blossom”, and again, these are usually SUPER FUCKING expensive.  Like, we’re talking $1000.00 expensive (Google that shit).  I found this in a huge display case with other turquoise that was 30% off for some reason and there was a small little price written on one corner that said $89.  The salesperson was like… “I’m pretty sure that’s not the price”… and I was all like “Woman.  It says that price.  You have to sell it to me or I’ll sue you.” SO SHE DID.  I have no idea whether you can sue people for writing the wrong price on things, but it seems plausible.

I know it has a couple of stones missing, but I DON’T CARE. BOUGHT.

OH YEAH.  I also found this Jil Sander skirt for SEVEN DOLLARS.

YA, I SAID SEVEN DOLLARS.  Please visit here to get a frame of reference on how fucking unbelievable that is.  It also fit like a sexy butt-glove.  It says “as is” on the tag, but I searched for about 20 minutes and couldn’t find a single fucking thing wrong with it.  FUNKING BOUGHT.

The antiques and artwork in the upper level were also pretty amazing.  There is my blue jug, being all expensive:

I seriously considered buying that “Canada” apron below but then I was like “where the fuck will I put that shit?” so I didn’t.  I also wanted the two posters.  But have no where to put them, either.  Le sob.

YES.  Neon wolf howling at cactus:

YES.  Happy skeleton lady, painted on a damn plate:

YES.  1970′s tacky-amazing dishware:

Sigh.  Popped into a couple of other stores, but to be perfectly honest, I had pretty much drained my budget at this point so I didn’t really have money to spend anyways.

Went back to my hotel and ate a delicious club sammie:

Then they were serving s’mores in the lobby so I hauled my fat ass over for a s’more to eat while watching the sun set:

FYI – the sunsets in Santa Fe are UNBELIEVABLE.  I felt like I was watching the end of a dramatic movie.  The light changes constantly and the colours are so vivid.  Eyeball boner.

The best part is that as soon as the light drops out of sight, like thirty coyotes howl as loud as fuck.  It was like nature-magic.

Since it was my last day I wanted to get a video of the sunset, so I took my s’more and ran up a steep hill to get a good view.  Here is my video.  You can hear me gasping for breath like an obese person because I am so out of shape.  Try to block that out and focus on the beauty of the moment:

Highly recommend Santa Fe.  Go.  I’ll leave you with my picstiched Insta of the sunset.  My hipster homage:

As previously mentioned, I was travelling for work last week and had the opportunity to spend a day on my own in Santa Fe, lovin’ life and other things of that nature. Having a single day to go through an entire place… especially one that was so full of STUFF to do, was understandably daunting, so I just put my little head down and conquered things one at a time.

First – the New Mexico countryside is F-ING beautiful… like, with cacti and tumbleweeds and like, spiders dragging old pieces of junk across sand to build their spider-nests.  Exactly how you pictured it.  THAT’S HOW IT IS.

I decided to start the day with a hike around the countryside with a guide who was really knowledgeable and allowed me to take multiple pictures that slowed down the rest of the group. Bad for them, GOOD FOR YOU!  So many arty pictures of tumbleweeds and shit.

This is an old tree that couldn’t survive the drought one year.  Negatives: it’s dead.  Positives: It provides a dramatic frame for my “taking a picture of the landscape with a dramatic frame” goals.

Below is a pear-cactus, which are all over the place.  They really hurt if you, say, trip while trying to take a picture, then submerge your knee bone into them.  Hypothetically.

Also, apparently they are tasty if you take all the pricklers off then slice them up into a delicious salad.  I never did this.  It’s just the rumour around town.

Here is another cactus.  Dramatic frame for my picture?  SUCCESS!

This is a Yucca plant.  The Yucca flower is the state flower of New Mexico – WHAAAT learnin’ things!  Apparently the native tribes in New Mexico used to/still use the little stringer things on the side of the Yucca plant to like, repair their clothing and sew their moccasins and other things of a “string-requiring” nature.  I tried to pull one out but it didn’t work.

Dramatic tree-frame!

So.  Seriously.  It’s pretty beautiful down there.  The landscape just folds out in front of you with hill after hill of browns that melt into each other… then the horizon undulates in rolling swells that become more and more transparent until you aren’t sure where one stops and the other begins.  POETRY SLAM WHAT!

TREE FRAME, WHAT!

ROCK FRAME, WHAT!

After about 90 minutes walking around in the New Mexico desert/drylands/whatever-they-are-called, I decided to cross “Nature-Stuff” off my list and mosey on over into town.

Being a big ol’ fatty, the first thing I needed to do was eat something.  Some people really hate travelling on their own because they have to sit in restaurants by themselves and eat without talking to anyone.  Me?  I LOVE going to restaurants by myself and eating what I want when I want without people bothering me while I stuff my face.  Paradise.

There are quite a few restaurant options in Santa Fe, but I heard about one over and over called “The Shed” that has been around for a really long time and apparently is packed all day long with people wanting to get a table, so I tried it out.

First, their patio is adorable.  Small enough to feel intimate, but roomy enough not to feel stifling. and full of bright umbrellas and stuff that makes you feel all happy and shit.

Wheat beer in the foreground, happy family in the background… how much more idyllic can you get?

I started with the Corn Chowder, which was AMAZING.  Really, I gobbled that shizz down in about 3 minutes.

For my main I didn’t want to go too ‘outside of the box’, because I had heard that “New Mexican-Mexican” food was really spicy and different than most Mexican food, and I didn’t want to walk around with a “tummy ache” (read: the runs) all day long, so I went with “Light Huevos Rancheros”.

Now, I’m not saying it was spicy, but IT WAS DAMN SPICY.  They put this “red chili sauce” and “green chili sauce” on it and it basically tastes like you are swallowing fire.  HOWEVER… it was definitely yummy.

Speaking of New Mexican foods… there is this thing called “Frito Pie” in Santa Fe that everyone was talking about.

Turns out Frito Pie is smashed-up Fritos with Chili poured over top.  At the Five and Dime (above), they literally open up a bag of Fritos, smash ‘em up a little bit in the bag, then pour Chili INTO the Frito bag, then you walk out with a spoon and a Frito bag full of Chili.

Best idea ever or source of long-term diarrhea?  Both, I’m thinking.  I never had the privilege of trying Frito Pie as I was full of my Huevos.  BIGGEST REGRET EVER.

In the afternoon I headed to Coyote Rooftop Cantina for some chips and beer.  The atmosphere was OK, but it was really hot and they were playing an awful radio statio… like Gin Blossoms styles.  Not in an ironic “remember when you were in high school and the Gin Blossoms were cool” – kind of way, in a like, “this is some cool new music – it’s called the Gin Blossoms” – kind of way.

The town is quite pretty and magical and again, exactly what you would expect when you think of New Mexico – short, clay-like buildings and bright colours and stuff that makes you happy:

Ok, so I checked “Nature stuff”, and “Eat a whole lot of spicy chili” off my list, and I decided that I wanted to spend some time getting all cultured, so I decided to stop by the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum.

So, I KNOW that everyone thinks of vaginas and vagina-related flowers when they think of Georgia O’Keeffe, but in reality, her vagina-related-flower repertoire is only a VERY SMALL part of her art and it really overshadows a lot of how TRULY AMAZING she is.

I went to the museum knowing little to nothing about her, which was a great thing, because I really learned a lot and came out with an amazing amount of respect for her.

Turns out she is BAD-ASS and a wicked-cool smart and strong lady and like, walks around with skulls and shit.

Her artwork does have a sexual undercurrent, which is amazing and powerful.  What strong woman didn’t have struggles with gender roles and sexuality in the mid-20th century when women’s rights were in the forefront both socially and politically? Cue the vagina-flowers.

Her photographer husband, Alfred Stieglitz, took numerous, sexually suggestive pictures of her when she was young and starting out, and that image of her as a sexual being constantly overshadowed her work.  People searched for sexual meaning instead of just looking at the art.

Later in life, she decided to take control of her image and invited photographers to her New Mexico home (“Ghost Ranch” – what?  coolest), and her BAD-ASSERY was shown in full effect.

A lot of her artwork was focused on New Mexico and the area surrounding Santa Fe.

Being as hipstery as possible, I bought a print of the skull/flower piece below, along with another skull piece.  Skulls, skulls everywhere.  That’s how you know you’re cool.

As you can tell, I haven’t said “peep” about my shopping and vintage item scouring, which is very detailed and lengthy, so I’ve decided to isolate that information into a separate, SHOPPING ONLY Santa Fe post, which I’ll put up like, within the next day.

Spoiler: I bought a lot of turquoise.

Next week I have some super-important-worky-business-type-stuff to do in Dallas and New mexico, which will leave me ONE WHOLE free personal day to explore downtown Santa Fe.

I AM GOING TO BUY SO MUCH TURQUOISE.  AND NAVAJO STUFF.  IT WILL BE GROTESQUE.

The spring line of shoes from Freda Salvador is making my brain explode.  It’s like a bunch of my favourite things aggressively smashed together into shoewear.  Expensive, expensive shoewear.

Simple, Clean, Stacked Ankle Boot??

(Fake) ALLIGATOR SKIN?

TRIANGLE BEADY THINGS???

SMOKING LOAFERS THAT TURN INTO OXFORDS?????

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph I almost just peed.

Omelette from Madeline Sharafian on Vimeo.

Outfit a Day is back on, baby.

…mostly because I’ve been dressing like a fat Druid-slash-80′s-Mom, which is like my two fashion nightmares colliding into a neutron star of hate.

This dress is from H&M which means that it is a slight bit too stretchy and a slight bit too low in the chestular region.  Solution – scarf.

I think it turned out pretty well if I do say so myself.

Whhhhaaaat?  Pasta, you MUST be tired because you have been running through my mind ALL day.

So it’s possible that I’m going on vacation to paradise in about three weeks, and it’s also possible that I am allowing the monsters of peer pressure invade my strong feminist mind to tell me that I should lose weight and not be a fattybobatty.  I have decided that my translucent-white whale skin needs to be wrapped around thighs that are as small as possible to detract from their horror.

At the same time, I want to resist against the oppressive social machine that tells me whaley white jiggle thighs are bad.  I MEAN, I would clearly survive the longest in some kind of horrible, meteor-inflicted famine. SHOULDN’T THAT be the REAL indicator of hottness?

With this in mind, I decided to craft a recipe SO FATTY… so BUTTER INFUSED… so CARBOHYDRATE-UNNECESSARY, that it would easily add on one extra day of survival (read: three extra thigh-pounds) in the unlikely event of a famine.

Farfalle with Exotic Mushrooms & Bacon Creme Sauce

• A heap of Farfalle Pasta
• Like, three handfulls of Cremini, Portobello & Oyster Mushrooms, coarsely chopped
• Five strips of Ready Crisp Bacon
• 1/2 chopped up Sweet Onion
• Tablespoon of chopped garlic
• 1/2 glass of white wine (leaving 2.5 glasses left to drink while cooking)
• 2 Tablespoons of Butter
• Parsley or Thyme (Thyme is always better)
• Some shakes of Parmesan Cheese
• 1/2 cup Cooking Creme
• Salt and Pepper

Instructions:

Wash your bowl of fungus:

Melt butter under medium-high heat and add salt & pepper.  Throw in chopped onion and garlic and let that stuff simmer and make your house smell like food-sex.  Chop up fungus and put in butter/onion/garlic heaven:

While that shizz is simmering, cook the Ready Crisp bacon in the microwave and pat out all the grease.  Chop it up to like, I don’t know, like 0.5 centimeter chunks.  Use your judgement.  I’m not your mother.

Chop up that parsley too.  Parsley was all I had but next time I’ll use thyme.  Let’s be honest – parsley is like the Celine Dion of herbs.  It’s totally overdone and everyone is bored with it and when you experience it, you don’t even really notice unless someone puts fireworks behind it.

WAHOO look at that steam all up.  Throw in the white wine now, if you can bear to part with it.  The alcohol evaporates off while you simmer it, which is pretty depressing.  I guess you could put your face over the pan with your mouth open hoping to let some of the vaporized alcohol enter your mouth and like, eye holes.  It would be a pretty efficient way to get drunk probably.

Anyways, let the pan of delicious shizz simmer until the liquid starts to evaporate and your dealing with a chunky, non-soupy type mixture…

Ok, so now put in the Cooking Creme.  I don’t really know the different between Cooking Creme and like, Normal Cow Creme, but in the grocery store there was a normal creme and a cooking creme, and since I was cooking with it, I was all like, “I guess I should get the cooking creme.”  Pour it in, then add the bacon and parsley.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that you should probably have the pasta on the stove and like, be boiling it so that it’s ready soon.  So that should be pretty much ready.  Sorry if I screwed up by not mentioning that earlier,  but I mean, learn to be kind of independent sometimes. Man, you are getting clingy.

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.  I want you in my mouth.

Ok, so when the pasta is ready and well-drained, throw it back in the pot, and add in the delicious sauce mixture.  Toss it all around to get all the fattiness well-distributed.

Add some Parmesan cheese on the top.

I think we need a closer view:

Even closer.

Ok that last one was a little too close.  Something in between.

PERFECT.  EAT THAT SHIT AND WATCH YOUR THIGHS EXPAND BEFORE YOUR EYES.