Ok, so I really like Halloween. OK? Get up in my grill and be all judge-y if you must, but I really like it and will continue to like it and nothing you say will change that. Hops and I were talking about how Halloween is kind of like New Year’s Eve in the sense that you get all excited for it with no real reason, and then the night always totally sucks balls. In that spirit, I’m going to get myself all hyped up by thinking about what to wear without any reason (also without anywhere to go… as I have not been invited to a Halloween party… ahem).
So – I need some direction to assist me with selecting my costume. Here are your options:
Level of Difficulty: Medium. I need to find a pair of plastic “Scissorhands”-hands, then spend the whole night trying to hold a bottle of beer without poking peoples’ eyes/balls out.
Level of Wicked-Coolness: Medium-High. But only because I’m a chick.
Level of Difficulty: Easy. I happened to purchase a cut-off turquoise “California” t-shirt at a vintage sale earlier this year. All I need are some acid-wash jeans.
Level of Wicked-Coolness: Low. I COULD be viewed as trying-but-not-trying to be sexy, which is always a big “no-no” during halloween. Those sluts.
Level of Difficulty: SUPER FRIGGING EASY
Level of Wicked-Coolness: Medium High. But only because I’m REALLY feeling the French chick vibe right now.
Ever since cutting bangs, I’ve felt like I kind of look like a girl in one of those French Film Noir directed by Eric Rohmer where she is all mysterious and a bit mentally deranged and chain smokes in really small French coffee shops, and some weird geeky guy falls in love with her and she tears his heart into a million pieces.
Yeah, I kind of look like that.
ANYhoo, I decided to go with this “mysterious chick in a French film noir” look. New favorite outfit: black cigarette pants that hit at the ankle, brown oxfords, and a black and white striped boat-neck top.
THEN, I realized that I could really “complete” my look with a really cool oversized grey wool jacket that looks like it belongs in a small town at the top of a blustery snowy mountain in the South of France in 1981. Fortunately, I happened to find one yesterday at 69 Vintage. I usually try not to shop at really popular vintage stores as a rule (i.e. Courage my Love, 69 Vintage, etc.), because they REALLY overprice shit, and I think that the best part of vintage shopping is the “find”… so shopping somewhere that has already “found” everything is kind of anti-climactic.
So I found this wicked-cool jacket that has kind of an 80′s feel to it – exaggerated shoulders and cinched at the top of the thigh… IT IS SO AWESOME. I need to add new buttons, though. I’m going to be SO mysterious this winter… slightly deranged, too. So all you nubile boys on the precipice of falling in love… watch out. Je suis une femme dérangée.
The original Batman was on TV this Friday, and a couple friends and I decided to watch it, since nothing else was really on. I’m sorry, but Kim Basinger is the frigging COOLEST chick on earth in this movie. She has the most awesome natural crazy hair, and wears the wickedest minimalist 80′s clothes. I couldn’t find a pic of it, but in this one scene, she wears this oversized 80′s suit with these big glasses, and her hair’s all crazy… like, wicked. I want to BE you.
Are you looking to invest in a business initiative that will guarantee a financial return? My fantastic idea will be securely positioned within a niche market that is currently untapped, and will involve little to no commitment from you! Returns will begin within days of your investment.
What is my idea? It’s simple.
“Spa Music that Isn’t F-ing Stupid“. Yes. That’s it!
NO Icelandic Women Moaning!
NO New-Age Keyboardists!
NO Ambient Analog Mixes!
NO Saxophone solos on the beach!
NO Seagull “caws”!
NO Random Super-Slow Electric Guitar Riffs!
NO Pan Flutes!
All I need is about $20 worth of capital to purchase a used keyboard from a garage sale. Can you help me out?? Soon, we’ll both me MILLIONAIRES!
This Sunday, I was planning to go to Aberfoyle again to get my delicious vintage library catalogue… but after a messy weekend, driving all the way up there didn’t seem very appealing anymore. So I decided to get my second-hand fix by cruising over to Value Village for some treasures. Here are the highlights of my leisurely afternoon:
They remind me of when I used to do the running man to “Having a Roni“:
I was walking by the kid’s section, when I saw this fucking freaky toy following my movements with it’s weird bumpy peanut head and huge psycho-killer eyes. The prickly pom-pom body and f-ed up “Penguin from Batman Returns” hands make it even more likely to make your child wake up screaming in fear:
After cruising through the children’s section, I felt the need to purchase a necklace… maybe a necklace that would let people know how successful I am… or how much I love Cristal… try to pick it out from the picture below.
Here’s some stuff that I actually wanted, but it was either:
Walked out with 4 pencil skirts, 1 pair of pants, 1 shirt, a faux-fur vest, and a cute little baby sweater. Great Sunday!
Every once in a while, I’ll visit a store that blows my mind with it’s perfectly Natalie-esque selection of clothing. Like, every item of clothing was selected specifically for me by my Fairy GodShopper.
One of those stores is Robber on Queen West. Erin and Robin do an amazing job of sourcing really wicked cool lines that are not readily available elsewhere in T.O., and they expertly mix in the super trendy-cool stuff (Flippa K, Karen Walker, Rittenhouse) with really simple basics (Steven Alan, Alternative). Every time they re-do their display in front and throw together an outfit, it’s always perfectly on-trend, but not TOO on-trend (like, not an Urban Outfitters trend-explosion). Simple, clean, modern… awesome. Everytime I go in (which is often, because they’re right down the street…), I have to try on like 7 things.
They also just launched their men’s stuff, which looks wicked-cool. I’m so glad they’re doing well and getting lotsa press, because I want them to stick around the neighbourhood!
What I want now from Robber?
Osborn Shoes! These ones:
…my parents got “bizzay”. This means that for some reason, I was permitted… nay, encouraged… to go ape wild all weekend and demand attention for doing absolutely nothing. Well… I guess I valiantly fought my way out of the birthing canal… so not ABsolutely nothing.
Hop-bone was wonderful and set up a big night on Friday. We went to Cze for dinner – it’s kind of a standby and I go there A LOT. A couple of weeks ago the Manager came in, saw me, and said “Dude, for real? You’re here more than I am.” Which, on the surface, is funny. But then you realize it means you are probably an alcoholic.
ANYway. I can only assume that, after I ordered my dinner, the chef was in the back-of-house all evening slowly and tenderly farming my two scallops from their zygote stages of life to tenuous adulthood, because it took 2.5 hours for my seared scallops to arrive to the table. And I happen to know that it takes about 4 minutes to sear scallops. But they were delicious. Also, an unintended side-effect of waiting for your dinner is that you drink a lot of alcohol waiting for your two seared scallops. Which means that I got really drunk really fast.
We went to P&Lfor a drink, but I think we got there too early because it was still a bit slow. We bailed and went to Churchill for a couple of drinks – they just opened up on Dundas across from Camp, and we wanted to check it out. This is where things start to get a bit fuzzy… I started taking some pics, and apparently we started singing (i.e. Screaming at the top of our lungs) along to Aerosmith’s “Cryin’ “.
My arty/drunk photos:
THEN… we ran into an old friend from my P&CC days… and we all trudged over to Camp where we proceeded to get dee-stroyed.
This douchey-esque guy was trying to flash his fucking Discover Card to buy a goddamn finger of Johnny Walker Blue with a side of ground pepper and I realized he looks like that dink who married one of the Kardashians:
BEST PART OF THE NIGHT?? At the end of the night, we were lingering out front and I was “that drunk girl with the over-the-knee-boots-mooching-smokes”, when I realised that I was standing next to SNAKE FROM THE ORIGINAL DEGRASSI.
This is how slick I was when I realized it was Snake (this is an actual verbatim transcription of the conversation):
Me: Oh my god.
Me: I know who you are.
Me: Actually, for real. I know.
Me: We don’t even need to say it out loud. I’m not even going to say it out loud. But I know who you are.
Him: … (turns away from me to his friends) So… are we going to the fucking after-hours club or what?
Anyhoo, after the bar we went and got veggie poutine at Poutini’s. Then I came home and made my own additional poutine with some old can of poutine gravy that I found in my cupboard (prrrobably expired). And watched 3 hours of Pride and Prejudice. And stained my shirt and shorts with gravy. Time to bed: 5:15 a.m.
Massage/facial/manicure that lasted like 2.5 hours. Whhick-ed.
Start getting ready for the night. Consume 2 glasses of wine.
Head over to Aidan’s for a baby shower. Consume 6 beers.
Go to Nuit Blanche thingie at the Gladstone. Consume one beer.
Go to Beacs for a couple of rounds. Consume one beer and one shot of Jameson.
Decide to be REALLY adventurous and try to get into Wicked. Have never been there and I feel it’s a rite of passage for all Toronto residents. Get turned down at the door.
Attempt to get into Poutini’s for a poutine. It’s a Nuit Blanche cluster-fuck. Decide to leave.
Go to Saigon Flower and order a bunch of deliciousness. Order “cold tea”. Consume approximately one more beer out of a steel teapot.
Arrive home. Take the dog out for a poop in Trinity Bellwoods. Encounter 10 high people as a byproduct of Nuit Blanche. They try to stroke my jacket in a sexual manner.
Explosive Monster Fart
My robot weiner hurts
My dream is to feel human love