Oh Sandro Girl… you are everything I want to be. Such fantastic style, such perfectly undone side-braid action… perfectly coiffed eyebrows and perfect lipstick choice… I want to be you/be ON you. I mean, the full body floral jumpsuit actually looks cool on you, not “I’m trying really super hard to be hipster fashion-y” like it does on everyone else.
Miami-print cropped t-shirts? YES. Striped blazer with high-waist cream silk shorts? YEEESS! Floral dress with fringed LETHA? YES, YES, YESSSS!
I will copy you every chance I get. This also means purchasing as many items from this line as possible, as long as The Bay Queen Street remains as cutting edge as it has been for the last 2 seasons.
I’m starting to have a serious, serious, boner for The Bay (wow. I never thought those words would EVER come out of my mouth). But they are suddenly amazing. Better than Holt Renfrew – where Holt’s is catering to rich, over-botoxed blonde stay-at-home moms/socialites, The White Room at The Bay Queen Street is catering to young, hip, sick and totally wicked cool chicks. I mean, they’re carrying Opening Ceremony, Hanii-y, McQ, LNA, Clu, and TONS of other lines that ring my bell like an overzealous stable boy. And I am not being paid for this. Nor are they giving me discounts to clothing (which would, as a side note, encourage me to promote them more… anyone? Employees of The Bay??) Additionally, The Bay is better than boutique stores because shite will go on RIDICULOUS sale at The Bay when it’s still regular price at independents. Hate to say it, but they are sucking all of my business.
ANYWAY, back to Sandro, which is totally, completely, above and beyond, my favorite line right now. In addition, as I mentioned, the styling for the Sandro girl makes my little mouth water. I want to BE HER. For those of you that see me out and about this summer/fall, see if you can pick out what item I’m wearing that is from Sandro Paris… there’s guaranteed to be at least one.
Ok, so I don’t like contributing to generalizations, but sometime I’ll have a conversation with some friends and we’ll discover some interesting coincidences about the gentlemen we’ve met. During a recent conversation, we discovered the following:
First, it’s usually a mattress on the floor, and usually one of those old mattresses that have 80’s flowers all over them and the quilting in the mattress is starting to pull out, so that the quilting is like half removed. Usually there is at lease one “discolouration”. I say “discolouration”, not “stain”, because it looks more like one end of the mattress was left in the sun for 72 days, not that someone spilled coke on it or something. Points if there is actually a box spring, and mad props if there is actually a bed frame… that is extremely rare. If there is a bed frame it’s those really, really cumbersome wire bed frames that look like a piece of medical equipment from the late 1940s. And it creaks. The mattress is old and worn in and is either full-hammock-y (like sleeping in a huge hammock with someone so that your bodies roll together into each other – this usually occurs if the guy is perma-single and sleeps in the bed himself) or double hammock-y (if the guy had a long-term girlfriend, then she will have forged her own sag-area, so that there are side-by-side hammock-y sags).
On to the sheets. There is a fitted sheet (typically it’s a fitted sheet that was given to him by him mom, something that was a really good quality sheet in 1980… but his mom has been keeping it in the linen closet as a “back up” set of sheets for the last 10 years, and decided to give them to him when she realized that he has no sheets). However, the fitted sheet has been used and washed so many times that the elastic on the corners is totally un-elasticized, and it’s coming off at least one corner of the bed, exposing the 80’s flowers on the mattress. The sheet almost always has some kind of pattern on it, but again, due to the over-washing, it’s completely impossible to determine what the pattern is… looks like some kind of faded pastoral scene, perhaps… or blue stripes with dots…
So there is the fitted sheet. BUT there is never, ever, ever, EVER a top sheet. Just an old comforter tossed on top of the fitted sheet. WHERE did the top sheet go? Sheets come in sets, to there HAD to have been a top sheet given to him by his mom at the same time she handed over the fitted sheet. But it’s not there. No top sheet. Just the comforter. The comforter is usually a dark blue or forest green that is faded and pilly from over-washing. And since it’s a comforter, not a duvet, the comforter is totally dirty and probably completely filled with old flakes of skin and dirt. NOTE: this is the purpose of the top sheet. To protect the comforter/duvet from getting dirty, because it’s really easy and convenient to wash a top sheet, but it is not easy and convenient to wash a comforter.
On a side note, sometimes it feels as though the Y chromosome actually repels top sheets. When guys sleep over at a chick’s place, and that chick has a top sheet, somehow the guy manages to wheedle himself out of the top sheet over the course of the night, so that when you wake up, the top sheet is all bunched against you, and he’s sleeping with just the duvet. And all his bare skin is rubbing up against the duvet which is really inconvenient to wash.
Anyway, back to the guy’s bed. The pillows have been used so much that the stuffing inside (which is a low-quality polyester) has been smashed down into a 1-inch slab that provides absolutely no head support. When you wake up in the morning, it feels like you were resting your head on a dirty rock. There are pillowcases, but they do not match the fitted sheet OR the comforter. The pillows are also scratchy on your face, and unless you are totally wasted (which is usually the case upon your first visit to the bed…), it is impossible to find a comfortable, non scratchy place on the pillow.
Women do not like sleeping in these beds.
Dear all men on Earth,
If you have a really clean, nice, inviting bed, women will want to enter the bed. This is a good thing.
Here are some pictures of (masculine) beds that you can model your bed around in order to impress ladies (I like reclaimed wood, OK?):
Hey ya’ll. Thanks for your contributions to the “I Vow to Walk Forever…” challenge! I got lots of ideas pumped through the “web”… here are the last of them!
Additional Reasons Why I Vow to Walk Forever…
13. Douches Talking on Blue Tooth Thingies
Ok, so I don’t think I need to give much detail here, because I don’t know one single person who doesn’t hate this. If you walk around with a blue tooth thing in your ear, you are a giant douche. It’s like wearing an actual female douche taped onto your head. That’s how literal you’re being by wearing a blue tooth headset. You may as well go to Shoppers Drug Mart, purchase a female douche and some packing tape, and tape that sucker to your ear instead of wearing your blue tooth.
Additionally, you really, really, really don’t need to have an extendo-conversation with your friends/colleagues/douche-fraternizers while on the streetcar. This is the conversation you should be having: “Hi. Yeah, it’s me. Yeah, I’m on the streetcar so I can’t really talk. Also, I am not a douche because I don’t have a blue tooth headset. Cool? Call you in a sec. Bye.”
Also, I’m pretty sure you have a teeny weeny peenie.
14. People who feel they don’t need to hold on to the bars
(courtesy of P-Hops)
This is a good one – those people who are like “I’m a total veteran on the streetcar/subway/bus. I know every pothole, red light, and stop. I don’t need to hold onto the pole like YOU losers.” Then they tap dance allover the car like newborn deer trying to walk on a trampoline. And they rip my shopping bag, or spill my coffee, or stab me in the eyeball with their middle finger. It is not shameful to use the pole. Use it.
14. … or Ride Forever…
A-Balls mentioned that I could easily solve all of these problems by buying a bike. She’s right. Go to Bikes on Wheels and buy a bike. I’m going to go – you should, too.
My Dad is amazing… so wonderful to his daughters and loves his grandchildren… I have such great memories of us travelling all over Canada and the US for my soccer games, listening to the oldies station non-stop. Dad, I heart you and hope you had a good father’s day!
Check out this amazing photo essay I found of my Dad when he was young. How cool is this??
This spider showed up on my balcony. It was friggin gigantic. GIGANTIC. Creep. Me. Out.
I hate to say that he had to be killed – I was in favour of gently luring it into the woods to live out its life in peace. If I had any measure of courage, I would be out there in a full body mosquito net-suit, trying to catch him in a paper cup, then running across the street to release him in the park. But I am a wiener about spiders, so I asked assistance from a gentleman. I suppose I have to accept his methods:
I had Joey’s cassette tape. And I went to Erin Mills Town Centre to get it signed by him…. BRAP!
Hey ya’ll. Thanks for your contributions to the “I Vow to Walk Forever…” challenge earlier this week! I got a bunch of suggestions that I’ll be illustrating and describing for your blog-viewing pleasure!
Additional Reasons Why I Vow to Walk Forever…
12. MOVE TO THE BACK!
(courtesy of T-Bone)
As you may have seen from my previous posts, streetcar etiquette is a delicate, intricate web of unwritten understandings that form an ephemeral membrane that keeps people from stabbing each other in the eyeball. Pretty much the only explicit rule is to MOVE BACK so that MORE PEOPLE can get ON THE STREETCAR. I say explicit because:
1. It’s written EVERYWHERE. It says “Please Move Back”… then a couple of steps later is say “Move Back a Little Further Please”… then a couple of steps later it says “Even Further Please!”. Someone spent a lot of time thinking up that complex wording and stencilling it on the inside of the streetcar.
2. There are recorded messages that intermittently TELL YOU to move back.
3. It is basic common sense that your GIANT HEAD would prevent me from getting onto the streetcar because it’s GIANT and takes up the whole aisle.
Move back, turd! Anyways. Note how good I’m getting at illustrating in MS Paint: Mr. Giant Head has a SICK Chihuahua on his T-Shirt. BRRRAAAPP!
This week I headed out to see The New Pornographers, which was pretty awesome. AND I was kinda, sorta “with the band”… so I got into the VIP section upstairs. MUAAH… NO BIG DEAL!
The view from the VIP section – BRRRAP!
They put on a wicked show, and I got a copy of Mass Romantic on vinyl to boot! Those are some sexy make-outs on the front…