Intersection

Remember me?

So, I was happily going along, all radio silence plus, when I had a very interesting encounter this morning on my way to work. It aligns nicely with another very interesting encounter, which happened in exactly the same spot (give or take 10 feet) about 2 months ago.

Let's begin there: I was walking to work in the summer, wilting away and certainly looking neither my slimmest nor most well-put together, when some twenty-something guy, walking in my direction, moved toward me to ask a question.

I assumed he wanted to know where College St. was but, when I stopped to hear him out, he gave my quite a shock by advising me, in some mellifluous Eastern Euro lilt - and with a surfeit of confidence - that, in his opinion, I had the most gorgeous body he had ever seen.

I smiled gamely. I mean, I'm 40. I do enjoy hearing anyone say my body is the best thing ever, despite the objective untruthfulness of that statement. I said thanks and started to walk on.

At that point he moved closer to me - not entirely where I was going with our discussion - and confided (no freakin' joke) that he was looking for a lover and he could tell I'd be an optimal candidate. At which point - FOR REAL - he pulled out his business card.

Thankfully, I hadn't forgotten my wedding band that day, and proceeded to advise - as I walked forward - that my husband would likely object. He expressed utter misery at this revelation, telling me the world was cruel (or some such thing) and that was that. Note to reader: I do wish I'd taken the card, just for posterity.

OK, then this morning, in the same place, I watched a couple stagger down the street. They weren't exactly staggering but they'd obviously had a rough night and they ambled broadly in a cloud of cigarette smoke. He was all in leather. Her hair was hanging in precariously, despite the bleach, and she wore the shortest skirt ever, set off by ripped fishnets.

I'd like to clarify that the neighbourhood in which I was walking is not a dicey one. It is urban, natch, but the houses go for almost a million bucks (not unusual in downtown TO, but certainly not the sign of a slum) and it's quietly residential. As such, this couple was slightly stand out. Of course, TO is a very "free to be you and me" kind of town. But they seemed to have come from a rave on Queen West. Or some house of ill-repute, perhaps.

As they passed, the woman tapped me on the shoulder and said: Really great boots, honey. I realize that the boots - rather ordinary flat black things - must have been scandalously offset by my new jeans (exact replacement of my 1969 Always Skinnys, the zipper of which recently broke. That's it's own story, oy. In brief, in regular jeans I'm a 29. In Gap jeans I'm a 27. I just replaced the exact style and size of the broken jeans and the new ones are SO tight it's horrid. I mean, I get a yeast infection just thinking about them and they barely fit around my - admittedly scrawny - calves. I know the dye needs to stretch in the weave. I know I might be fatter, but still...)

Anyway, I'm starting to wonder if I need a style overhaul. Or a new route.

Supporting Role (or is that Roll)

The lovely people who distribute the Invisibelt in Canada kindly sent me one to try out for myself which is so appreciated because a) I was so intrigued to see it first hand and b) I'm always looking for a new apparatus to slim my midsection while holding up my jeans :-)

In truth, I wear a lot of jeans, mainly skinny, and I do like to pair them with a slim (often knit) top that comes down over the waistband. I'm not a tucker. With the skinnies, you have to be a freakin' toothpick to get away with that! And I'm frequently dismayed by the amount of bulk results from my natural circumference plus that of a belt.

Here's what I can say about this product which, regrettably, is rather tough to find in stores in the Toronto area: It's easy to use and quite unobtrusive. The width is good for a variety of sizes of belt loops - while still being thick enough to provide the "slimming" support you might be seeking. It has an expansion / retraction mechanism (kind of like on a bra strap or yoga belt) to allow you to wear it on the hips or waist or somewhere in between. The one I got fits sizes 0 - 14 and there is a "plus" size version available also. The website is excellently informative about how to use the item - not that you'll need it. It's not rocket science and there are instructions included in the efficient packaging.

I'm still getting used to mine which is definitely, though not dramatically, less bulky under skimming tops. Finding the perfect tension, I suspect, is key to achieving optimal impact. My issue isn't so much about minimizing flesh on my waist or sides, but about sucking in the little lump of fat below my navel. I'm not sure how it's going to help me with this specifically. Maybe that's where self-control comes in?

Let me end by suggesting that, if you ever happen to drink too much one evening (for example) and you come home really late (not that that ever happens) and, somehow, your Invisibelt ends up near the side of the bed - do not step on it when you get up! Because it really is practically transparent. And you sure don't want to break that sucker...

(Canadian peeps: If you'd like more info about where or how you can buy this in your area, pls. email and I can put you in touch with the CDN distributor.)

Hot? Or Not?

I've wanted a wood-burning fireplace since - well I can' remember when. We always had one when I was a kid. Now it seems they're far and few between - even in century homes (in which they've been plastered over, generally) and in a frigid climate that warrants one, no questions asked.

Oh, you can find yourself an ersatz gas-powered one, not that I'm scoffing at any beautiful flame. But that just doesn't give the full, through-the-ages experience.

Now, where does this come in:

Generate Design Fireplace Photo courtesy of Apartment Therapy

Yes, an ethanol-burning, table-top gizmo. It's certainly an interesting design.

And you can put it on your dining room table.

But it seems a bit dangerous to me, hmmm? Whatcha think?

Vanity Watch

Check out Martha Stewart's answers to the Proust Questionnaire on the Vanity Fair website.

(Why don't I believe that her greatest regret is not having a dozen children?)

Food for Thought

Cost of 20 croissants at generic bakery (i.e. Cob's): $50.00 before tax.

Cost of 20 croissants made at home: $5.00 all in.

OK, I know it took a long time to make 'em - I imagine, though, it gets easy after you get used to the recipe. Let me point out that the home made ones are 1/10 the price. And you get to tell everyone you made them.

Just sayin'...

I'm So Going to Check This Place Out

On the way to pick up supplies in Parkdale a few weeks ago, Nicole and I happened across this poutine joint (under construction).


Now, poutine is kind of an acquired taste. I can't say I've really acquired it -because I'm not super big on fries. Gravy and cheese I can totally get with though. And I understand that good poutine is like a religious experience. According to my husband.

Of course, he's an atheist.

Update: This place has been opened for a few weeks now (I took the photos a couple of months ago) and it's getting good reviews. I haven't had a chance to get there myself but I will keep you posted. The original post from this morning, didn't take this into account so it's been edited.

Looking for a Red Designer Bag?

Then I suggest you consider this one...

You Gotta Watch This...

And then tell me what you think. Link is here.

Really, I wanna know.

Skirting: The Issue

The day after I bought the Club Monaco denim, asymmetric, button down mini skirt, I joyfully wore it to work (with the champagne gladiators - very good look). I said to my husband: How do I look?, and with nary a hesitation he advised that it was pulling over my hideous stomach lump - I mean, he didn't call it that, to clarify. That's me editorializing. He called it - kind of boringly - "your midsection".

At first, I cursed him for his meanness. Then I considered that perhaps he's learned a lesson or 2 from me, the woman who doesn't mince words when he asks how I like what he's wearing. A bad lesson. Then I had to concede he was correct - there was a slight pull over the space between the button at the waist and the first button below that. That space encompasses the entirety of my stomach lump. I'd like to tell you it's the result of childbirth but I'd be lying. It's just a feature of my proportions.

I should mention that it is not a terrible thing. When I'm naked, I actually think it's a nice curve. The top part of my stomach - from breasts to belly button - is flat, even toned. The fleshy lump, well that's just genetics. And cake. It makes me feel connected to my latin roots. Of course, in this respect I'd be just as happy to feel connected to WASPy flat stomach roots I don't have.

If there's one part of my body I'm willing to speak negatively about, it's the tummy. And that's stupid, as all the "love your body" bloggers would have you know. If this is my biggest "flaw" well then I might as well shut up because it doesn't impinge on my ability to enjoy fashion, eating or my life in ANY WAY.

Let's get back to the point of this post, shall we?

I wore the skirt to work. I fretted all day about the pull. I held file folders in front of me as I talked to co-workers. They asked why I was holding file folders strangely in front of my stomach. When I took the folders away, everyone commented on my great new skirt and then - on observing the asymmetry at the hem - said: Did you make it yourself?

I mean, WTF? Of course I didn't make it myself. It's the style peeps. Have you not looked at any fashion blogs in the last 12 months?

I don't want you to think that these brief setbacks undercut my love of the skirt in any way. I don't care what people think of asymmetry. I bought it because I think it's great. I suspect a different crowd will respond to it differently. (PS - I know without a doubt, that no one was aiming to insult me in any way...)

I knew exactly how to solve the problem of the pull, naturally, it's not like I just got off the boat with this stomach. The key - and you may know this if you have a little lump type of stomach typical of latin culture - is to put a snap (a sturdy one) - between the buttons. I didn't do this myself. My DIY skills are limited to chair reupholstery. :-)

I took the skirt to Julie, my alterations person, and she fixed the problem in 5 minutes. For $5.00. And, while I watched her, I learned a key new lesson: If you have "the tummy", put the snap towards the inside of the place where the buttons join. If you put it flush with the buttons, the pull will persist because that's the zone of "highest tug" (technical term, you realize).

I got home and tried the skirt on again. The pull was entirely gone. The denim fit smoothly (and snug-ly) around my waist and below. It was just as if the thing were made for me.

Note, I said "for me" - not "by me". Just so we're clear.

Green Greens

This photo is regrettably fuzzy, but have a look at those delish greens (brought into Pantry, where we were dining, by some woman who actually grew them on a farm and transported them that morning). They are resting in a bamboo bowl. It's entirely recyclable - even reusable a few times, till it falls apart while washing. And the utensils were made of wood a la popsicle sticks. Cool, huh?

Yikes...

Have you heard about this? I mean, it's not like I hang in fancy NY stores on a weekly basis, but isn't Henri Bendel kind of above the recession? How can they revisit an iconic brand so wholesale!? Removing the clothing?? I'm not down with it.

And you?

Crowd Mentality

A few things I've learned from my fashion experiences of late (don't you hate generalizers?):

• Fashion people eat a little, drink a lot
• They wear insane shoes - like, those shoes you think are only in magazines
• They are often extremely young and sporting the blush of youth
  
• Or they are rather of a certain age, and looking damn fine due to lifestyle and, ahem, treatments
• The models are tremendously, otherworldy tall and strangely long-of-torso

J and I enjoyed a moment of commonality when we discovered that we both look amusedly at young 'uns, bitchily chalking up 90% of dewy glow to youth alone. And, likewise, when we see a sexy, yet elegant Lady over 50, we wonder - nay verily hope and pray - that maybe we'll age like that.

The Holt's / FASHION event was entirely, 100%, almost trashily promotional. Not that I'm complaining; the booze was plentiful (though you had to line up like cattle) and it was good. The catered goodies fell into the "savoury finger food" category and the "hipster candy" category.


Maybe it's just me - and I imagine, Marinka - but my hypochondria does not permit me to touch food en masse like this.

For its questionable cow tow to the tony class, Holt's is a beautiful store, worthy of rich people with money to burn and fashion risks to take. This gorgeous, well-displayed Robert Rodriguez skirt, I can't resist:

There was an interesting scheme to part us from our money. It involved Shu Uemura paste-on eyelashes and a truly remarkable eyelash curler. The next thing I knew, I was shooting video of J's makeover and J was having a makeover - which involved fake eyelashes that look awesome (and strangely real).


But that means she was gifted 3 secret pressies!!, one of which she kindly gave to me!!

Here's how that works: You look, you're loved up by great SA's, you buy, you don't look at the bill too closely except to hand it to the ladies at the Lollipop Wall:

You pick a number (on the lollipop) and then you're handed one of these, that shares the number:


Not bad, huh? I got a rather youthful See by Chloe bracelet. It is hot pink plastic hearts with a couple of charms. M's going to love it.

Finalement, here's a shot of the two of us goofing around:

What? There'd been a lot of booze at this point...

Rich and Ritchier

On Tuesday evening, my friend Jeannette and I - and about 1000 other chic but shameless TO women - went to a FASHION magazine event at Holt Renfrew. Nicole Ritchie, as it happens, was debuting her House of Harlow line in Canada, hence the media melee in the Contemporary design section on the third floor.

Let me start by saying that I have less than no interest in Ms. Ritchie. Anyone who could stomach being Paris Hilton's sidekick (on TV, no less) is not someone who's earned my fan base. And her jewels, if you can call them that, are pure cheap. Honestly, I don't believe she expects to sell that stuff in this economy.

But she was quite lovely and tremendously composed (if the slightest bit grimy-seeming) holding court:


Note: Her officious security team was absurd about keeping people behind the ropes. One guy - you know the kind with the wire in his ear - was positively menacing as I ignored his rude edict to "step back, Ma'am. Step away from Nicole.") I mean, seriously, it was a room full of tipsy shoppers, sluggish on mini-burgers and candy. What exactly did he think I was gonna do with my camera phone? The woman was there on a photo op!

Nonetheless, a party with a zillion attractive, fantastically dressed, industry people and trophy wives make for an interesting crowd:

This woman was impeccable from head to toe

Here are the toes...

This woman wasn't thrilled by my asking to take her photo.
To the extent that you can see it, she's got awesome shoes, a great bag with a skull on it and, Enc, if you're reading, she's wearing a J-suit...

The woman who owns this foot was sweet to tell me her shoe is Fendi.
Um, don't I read Imelda??

Furthermore, Jeannette and I were accosted by the really sexy photog (maybe that's a slight exaggeration):

Get it? I'm being photographed while photographing - oooh, postmodern

Sexy Photog was hilarious, Jeannette an adorable audience

Please stay tuned for tomorrow's post which highlights a) the free drinks b) the food c) the fashion and d) the giveaways.

Cat on a Not Tin Roof

This springtime riff on Dog and a Butterfly is affectionately known as Cat and a Squirrel...

Get a Piece of the Action

aka K's much beloved - but overstocked - wardrobe.

My driveling thought process:

• I love to shop.
• I love beautiful things.
• I buy beautiful things (which come with delightful pedigree and/or fun stories).
• All the beautiful things become like my beloved children (don't tell M!).
• At the current level of acquisition, though, I haven't the time to take all the kids to the park nearly often enough - yes, bad simile extended.
• Those babies deserve love and attention.
• I'd like to make a little bit of space for my current items (and theoretically for new ones).
• This is not to say I can bear to part with much.
• Nor is it to suggest that my prime, or even peripheral, interest is to make a tremendous profit on anything.

Enter my experiment - which is in no way innovative - though I feel my methodology might be!

There's this lovely blog called Laws of General Economy. It's a forum for placing good, loved clothing in an appropriate new home. It's not a money making venture but a community of like-minded clothes lovers looking to recycle their mint-condition, (mainly) branded wares or vintage with others.

How it Works

• Occasionally, on Laws of General Economy, I will post a photo of an item I'd like to release back into the wild. (I'll link to this from my blog so that y'all here will be advised.)
• The post will give you a brief history of the piece, sizing/flat measurements and indicated shipping fee plus nominal reimbursement requested.
  
• If the item appeals, you go into the comments of that post (at Laws...), and leave your email address (it's kind of like a bid, but the terms are set).
• When the "bid period" closes, any who have commented will be equally eligible to "win" the item through a random draw.
• The randomly chosen recipient will send payment through PayPal and then I'll ship the item.

So, all the more, I'm actively reflecting on the secret dynamics in the universe of my closet. Which pieces will be more appreciated, at this stage of our relationship, in a new environment? What lovely memories are woven in their fabrics, ready to provide an hospitable and lovely container for a gorgeous new owner?

I'm also feeling rather modern urban e-cycler!

What do you think?

I Didn't Know I Could Do This

By some glitch of modern technology, I figured out how to take video on my cell phone.

Don't get excited - this is in no way a preamble to texting.

Would You Try This?

There's this new alt-experience happening in Toronto: underground dining.

Apparently - and I learned about this first from BlogTO which, while fun and informative, is not exactly subversive - hip, happening peeps are supper clubbing in secret locations (!) all over the town.

The gist is that you email "private" organizers (who work with a chef), make plans, are notified of the address to your intimate event, attend, enjoy and pay. It's like a restaurant only it's not. And by this I mean, there isn't really the same quality accountability, one imagines. Not to mention it's vaguely illegal re: licensing and food prep. Not that I'm all fussed about that. I mean I do eat in holes-in-the-wall in chinatown occasionally. (OK, I never do but I'm making the point that I'm not all fussy about it.)

(OK, I'm totally fussy about it but I'm trying to sound all urban and reasonable.)

Blog TO refers specifically to two such organizations: one of which looks pretty pedestrian (same place, same time, same folks, same food) while the other is for serious food people i.e. you have to fill out a survey and make the cut before you are invited to attend.

When speaking with my mother about this, she advised that they have a similar scene in Italy. Apparently, reputable hotels will set you up with a host who treats you to the real experience of Italian eating, homestyle. You can do it alone or with other couples you don't know. It costs about 40 euros a person.

I'd love to be a part of a fee-free culinary network in which someone like me maintained a database of others like me - decent, hand-washing, food-loving, excellent-dessert making, ambiance-inspired, music digging, vaguely vulgar, plugged in urbanites with bite - who could pair up (maybe randomly). One would host, the other guest. Like a key party but the sex would be food and everyone would get it on en masse!

Wouldn't you love to check out some sweet house in Cabbagetown/Yorkville/High Park/Riverdale/Dufferin Grove/Queen West, meet the inhabitants, drink some wine (brought by you, natch, a good guest) and eat a completely spontaneous meal with people you've never met? At its best it could be the most terrific hook-up of your life. At its worst, a food-pushing, awkward experience you could chalk up to nerviness. Maybe guests could arrive in groups of 4 (all of whom know each other) so that, even in a worst case, there would be lively conversation.

It's kind of risky, huh? Actually subversive - if friendly. And I don't think anyone's doing that yet.

I'd actually willingly take on either side of that equation - host or guest. What do you think?

Jonathan & Olivia Has A New Site

It includes a blog. You may want to check it out. Apparently they ship anywhere.

And here are some pretty photos of the two locations.

J&O Vancouver Location (Soma)

J&O Toronto Location (Lower Ossington)

City Scene

This house, now for lease, comes with an interesting story. It's on a particularly iffy stretch of Harbord - not that it's a bad/dangerous street, really, but it's high-traffic and it's in the crappiest stretch of this long urban thoroughfare. That shadow on the right is a lane way - aka alley for those who live elsewhere.

What you see in this photo is not what existed on that spot of land a year ago. A year ago the land was razed. And that's because some idiot (I presume drunken) clipped the former edifice (admittedly a 1 room shit box that might have been 400 sq ft. including the basement) and knocked it half to pieces.

What ensued was a year long slog with the municipality to get zoning for a new structure. Now, almost 2 years later, you see this. Let me assure you, it's quite lovely, even if the photo doesn't show it. You know how I like boxy modernism, intelligent urban design and improvement of my general surroundings.

There's a great skylight at the top and a terrific roof top terrace (seriously wanted in TO). The place is still tiny but, I imagine, well put together - if my observation of its construction is anything to go on. And it is 2.5 floors above ground with a basement. Probably hits 1000 sq. ft. now. Note the cement box, the extent of its frontage, is yet to be landscaped.

What do you think?

What? It's a Chick Site.

Thanks to Stephie and Dottie for posting about Le Love, a site dedicated to sexy and "heart fluttering" images. I vote for the sexy ones, myself.