Feast or Famine

I'm writing this on my new MacBook Air, which is everything they say it is, and cute. If I were a computer, I'd want to be this one. My husband has really pulled it back from the edge after leaving me for dead (metaphorically) when I first sustained the foot injury. While he may not have taken it seriously at first, he's bucked up by massaging my ankle and leg, physiotherapy-style, for hours each evening, taking care of all the mobile-elements of family life (i.e., shuttling the kid) and gifting me with top of the line technology.

I think it's safe to say I'm going to postpone the divorce.

In the true spirit of Xmas, however, this post is not about the loot but about the food. For the last two days I have eaten a shocking variety of things that can only be deemed artery-blockers.

I'm not one of those people who frowns on gluttony. No ma'am. Give me your fried, crispy masses. Pastry that gleams with butter. My heart flutters at a perfect cake crumb. I can eat a round of brie.

Seriously. On Xmas eve, we had wild mushroom brie fondue that takes a pound of rinded cheese. Generally it serves 4 till they're stuffed beyond compare. M was sick, so she wasn't eating. Scott just humoured me by eating it. There was but a small amount left yesterday for me to pair with crackers while I drank a bottle of Vouvray (this is hard to find at a decent price and it's so clear and ringy, though far sweeter than the wine I generally choose). I drank it over 8 hours, fyi. This is to say nothing of the struesel cake I ate for breakfast yesterday morning. (Is anything better for breakfast than homemade coffee cake??).

The thing is that Scott's Xmas capon takes a zillion hours to cook. We were three, but he bought a 10 pound bird. Don't ask. In fact, we tried - on a whim, yesterday morning - to invite 8 people over to share it with us. Alas, they had already started to cook their own Xmas dinner at 10 am. Anyway, by 4 p.m. I was really hungry and I had to eat some ridiculous quantity of prosciutto.

By 7 p.m. the capon was juicy, delicious ready with roasted veggies. They managed to be soft on the inside and crunchy, oily on the outside. My fave combo. I won't lie - I ate an ounce of capon and half a pan of veggies - if you can call onions, carrots and potatoes soaked in grease "veggies".

The pan generally serves 6-8.

Scott and his friend of 35 years have a term to describe extreme, painful, disgusting first-world fullness. It's called "klunk" and you can use it as a verb or a noun or an adjective, your choice. To say I was klunk at this moment does not begin to express how I felt. I really thought I might throw up (which is a horrifying thing in my book). Scott felt my stomach and seemed alarmed by its distension.

At which point I decided I would never eat again.

I sense I'm about to break the fast (it has been 12 hours), but I'm going to do it with a hard boiled egg and a slice of cheddar. Though that cake continues to call. (Don't worry - I'm over it. I still feel vaguely nauseated, thankfully.)

Why am I telling you this? Why am I admitting to this horrendous level of gluttony? I'd like to say something like it's to make you feel better about your own holiday ingestion indiscretions, but who are we kidding?? I think it unlikely that any of you have crossed the line as I have. Maybe I'm looking for that one crazy reader who can match me in the stupid eating department? Maybe I am seeking absolution? Who can say.

So here's to hot water with lemon, green salad and chicken soup. Which reminds me, I have to transform those leftovers into a stew fit for a queen. Have I mentioned that my chicken soup is legendary?

Full Circle

Last Saturday, on my actual 40th birthday (srsly, how lucky is it to have your milestone birthday on a Saturday in June???), my husband organized the most fantastic party ever.

The scene: Scaramouche (where I had my 18th birthday), a restaurant of pedigree. It has the most absurdly beautiful view of the city (it's on an escarpment) and the food is legendary.

The peeps: Sandra (who doubled as the photographer - see the shots at the end of the post), Hilary, Nicole, David, M, Scott, Abbie and Ray (my parents), Steen and, natch, me!

The surprise: Rick Mercer was sitting 2 tables over. We convinced my cute little child to go over and say hello. Tacky, I realize, but for once we threw decorum to the wind. He was outrageously pleasant and professional, fyi.

I cannot express how thrilled and grateful I am to everyone who came out to celebrate with me. Nicole put together a book of special birthday wishes from everybody at the table (talk about advance planning) and, no joke, if you were to read them you would think I'd discovered a cure for cancer and established a working group to bring about world peace. And won an Oscar. I bawled my eyes out.

My parents came all the way from North Carolina (having just been here 2 months ago) on Friday evening and met us at our regular start-the-weekend dinner. It was a total surprise (except, strangely, I had a premonition this would happen!).

I got some beautiful gifts: A jade pendant (from Sandra), 2 Japanese sewing books (from Steen and Nicole) - one is called Drape Drape, a porcelain ring and my fave hand soap (from Scott and M). A few days later, in a fit of extravagance, Scott bought me an iPad with all the accouterments. I made him return it (we already have one in our household), but what a thoughtful purchase.

Really though, just having my family and friends to celebrate with was all the gift I could have asked for. We are all so busy, and spread thin, but we came together seamlessly and had such a GREAT time. After dinner we went back to our house for wine and cheese in the garden.

I also had a life-changing epiphany, early on in the evening. It deserves its own year of therapy, let me tell you. Maybe I'll talk about it someday on the blog...

There's no way for me to articulate my emotional perspective on this occasion. It was a joy to look at the people I care about all around me - to reflect on how I've known them, in some cases since my birth, and in other cases since theirs. Life marches on and loss is a part of the equation. But on this event, the disparate threads were rewoven to create a beautiful tapestry of my life.

I will never forget it.

My father and Scott

Sandra (with the hair), Nicole (in the b/w dress), Hilary (in vintage Missoni). Not my best pic but the ensemble cast is fantastic!

The coconut cream pie is the best thing you will ever eat. Really. I don't bother with the chocolate sauce which is why I requested it on the side. Note: Everyone at the table who ate dessert, had the pie.

Hilly and M - yes, the woman in the background is wearing a wedding dress. That was its own fun story...

Steen on food high

Life is Good

Today I had the most wonderful time - and I was outrageously productive.

It started off at the best garage sale ever, in Leaside of all places, where I was driven in style by my friend Jennifer. J's friend Nicole is moving - first to Mustique, and then to Hawaii - and she was having one of those "all things must go" sale, wherein I scored:

• Gorgeous large bowl, from Indonesia (Nicole used to live there), inlaid with mother of pearl and lined with smooth bamboo. Perfect for fruit.
• 2 nesting bowls, ceramic, in butter yellow, for mixing
• Real jade bead necklace - also from Indonesia
• Fun necklace - blue plastic (but very chic)
• 4 Time Life cook books from 70s - all on Euro cooking. Awesome photos.
• A box of tapers
• A black, v-neck cashmere sweater

All of this was $47.00!?!

Then, we went to the Wychwood Barns Market, up at St. Clair and Bathurst. It's only open on Saturdays. I am embarrassed to tell you that I've never been, despite the fact that I can walk there in a half-hour. It was fantastic! I bought amazing empanadas, utterly sublime alfajores, wild Ontario strawberries, homemade brownies made with Bailey's. Jennifer bought her weekly greens, yummy (though messy) veggie roti and gorgeous Gerbera daisies (12 for $7.00) - which she shared with me. We enjoyed the scene while catching up and drinking organic coffee. It was a delight.

If that weren't enough, midday I high-tailed it to Steen and Nicole's (2 Nicoles in 1 day!), where N and I proceeded to make that Donna Karan dress for her in a fab, modern blue and brown pattern (on white background). We pulled it off in a mere 4 hours! (The last one took me a full weekend.) The result was spectacular. It looks beautiful and fits perfectly.

Steen made dinner - steak, sausage, clover greens with nasturtium, asparagus, potatoes lyonnaise and great wines from all over the place. The bread and cheese - and pork rillette - we had to start (and finish) the meal were so delicious.

Honestly, what decadence. Really, it couldn't have been better.

PS: Aiming to get back in the swing of blogging over the next week. I'm hoping to do a breakdown of my recently purchased potions, one by one. Pls. stay tuned.

Spoke of Inspiration

True confession: I want to join a club. Oh, you can call me shallow and social climbing and status conscious. Whatevs. I want to walk into a place that's chicer than God and hear the dulcet tones of an impeccably dressed concierge-cum-model ask me how I am today, Ms K, and can I take your coat and would you like your regular drink or the one you have just sometimes? Katie, at the bar, will get it for you. I want to see gorgeous TO media intelligencia (and the idiots) chatting animatedly about something new and deluxe.

I'm telling you, there are places in Toronto where this is happening. On a Wednesday night?!

(At least I have the good sense to feel drab.)

All this is a long preamble to my story about an awesome evening, made possible by the exceptional generosity of my friend Jeannette. J has the distinction of being, not only an award winning documentary producer, but a woman who has, likely, contributed more to the quality of my life as an individual over the past couple of years than anyone else I can think of. See, in addition to all the public accolades, she's a mom with an inexhaustible tolerance for sleepovers. Those film types...

OK, the evening: You know it's Toronto Fashion Week, yes? Well, J belongs to the Spoke Club, gathering ground for those in the Industry, for artists with somewhat more credibility - if not passion - for their artforms than I have at the moment. Predictably, the place fucking rocks. It's all boutique chic with ambient electronica playing over good speakers and red walls and chandaliers and bathrooms with real towels. (No, I don't get out as much as I should.) There's a bar and a restaurant and a gallery and meeting rooms and a screening room and an entrance way where really attractive women remember your name and politely welcome you.

Given how media-plus it all is, on Wednesday the Spoke put together a little adjunct fashion experience in honour of TFW: a replay of Escada RTW Spring 09 (did this show somewhere last season? I couldn't find evidence on Style.com...) No mind. The gig did not disappoint.

After drinks, followed by dinner, we rode the elevator to the second floor which was decked out with a runway for the show. Practically every seat (2 rows deep on either side of the long promenade, and a couple at the prow) was reserved. Via surreptitious means that we will not dwell on here (though they do involve using one's age and stage and general moxy to promote apparent legitimacy), J and I ended up with those 2 best seats, the ones at the front, spitting distance from the models.

Fuck those women are tall.

Between the height of the risers and the complexity of genetics, I had neckache the next day. Not that I'm complaining!

J, organized nurturer that she is, remembered to charge her camera and took these shots:






It has come to my attention -and this is serious understatement - that I could happily watch a fashion show a hundred times a year. I don't know how it is that I am not an editor at Vogue.

No joke.

You Bet Your Ass We Can...

Last night I felt like I was watching the most riveting, heartwarming, well-written (least Sorkinism-laden), optimistic episode of the West Wing.

Only it was real, thank you.

Santa Baby!

Oh, this is good. So, gift-giving good!

Today, on a whim, though the guy at Rudsak advised that there were no more of the fab wallet I snagged on mega-sale a few days ago, I decided to return in the slim hopes that the SA could search another store for any spares floating in the system.

Turns out, the guy was looking in the wrong spot and there were actually 3 left (with boxes no less) languishing in a fancy stock drawer! And, since I put it out there to the Xmas giftie gods to send me a spare to give away over the hols, I felt it would be ungracious not to buy them all. Sometimes I am so hideous western consumer. But generous. :-)

So, if your name is Sandra, Allison or Mummy (mine only, sorry) - do not buy a wallet before Christmas.

I Feel So International

It's not every day that 2 fantastic bloggers - one American, the other Australian, give you a Portuguese blogging award, so I have to say "YeeHaw! Obrigado, mates" :-) (Though I do realize, y'all don't say yeehaw in Minneapolis.) You are both so sweet to think of me...

Technically, and with the help of translation software (thanks, Skye and Sal), here's how this deliciously idiosyncratic one works:

They all are charmed with the blogs, where in the majority of its aims are to show the marvels and to do friendship; there are persons who are not interested when we give them a prize and then they help to cut these bows; do we want that they are cut or that they propagate? Then let's try to give more attention to them! So with this prize we must deliver it to 8 bloggers that in turn must make the same thing and put this text.

AND

One is a charming blogger who aims to entertain, amuse other and be friendly in the process. Some horrors out there will receive this and cut it asunder not caring to forward and share the friendship.

Which means, 8 fine bloggers are to be mentioned by me, receive this lovely award and pass it on, should they choose to do so.

I'm trying to broaden my blog-scope so I thought I'd give this to some new reads that are appealing:

A Cat of Impossible Colour
Couture Carrie
Fashion for Nerds
Always In Style

The previously mentioned new Aussie finds:

Esme and the laneway
Style Discovery

And two blogs I learned about from comments on my recent Aussie Blogger post:

Lavender & Yolk
Qin at the Disco

Sometimes There's Just So Much Exciting Stuff In My Head that I Feel Like It Might Explode...

Unsurprisingly, given the title of this post, today happens to be one of those days.

I'm not even going to try to get it all out right now. It's going to take some careful consideration over a few different posts. So sorry for the tease, Dreamecho, but maybe these few details will suffice:

• My husband bought me a cell phone for my birthday (which is coming up soon). It's some kind of fancy Sony Ericsson that is so complex I still haven't figured out how to pick up my messages or answer the fucker before the voicemail kicks in. However, I have discovered how to take pictures with it - and how to get those pictures from the phone onto the blog. I'm feeling so FaceHunter right now!



• Then, last night, en famille, we had the kind of shopping fantasticness that rarely happens - much less in the humdrum milieu of one's own town. Seriously, it was a vacation-style stealth mission to one store - Apartment 909, perhaps the best vintage place EVER!, discovered in the most fun way at 8:00 p.m. still open! More special deets about the gorgeousness of this place to come. Let's just say we all ended up with some dream finds. And you know you are hardcore when you buy the art off the walls and walk it home...



• Meet Exhibit A, taken of the new art, with the new cell:

• Then meet Exhibit B, my daughter in one of her amazing new vintage dresses:

What you can't see here is that the dress has a high ruffled collar and the ruffles continue down the left side of this adorable drop waisted, blue and brown plaid piece.

Today's Post Gets an Update!

Wow. Occasionally, we have to bow at the altar of community...

Let's take a moment to acknowledge Fruchtzwerg for the fashion forensic phenom that she is as we behold the H&M dress I so ineffectively described in my last post:

I truly have no freakin' idea how she managed to a) figure out what the hell I was talking about below and then b) find it online in 3 minutes or less. It's poetry, I tell you!

So whatcha think?

Fantasy = Reality

Remember, growing up, when you really wanted something you couldn't possibly afford and your mother would say "Use your imagination, it's free"? Well, obviously, she never met me because yesterday's fantasy post was adequately compelling - to me, if no one else - that I went and booked a weekend this summer in Mtl. Decidedly not free, I admit, but hopefully among the best things in life.

An underlying impetus is to avoid an event I would otherwise have no other recourse but to attend - needless to say an event unrelated to anyone who might read this blog. So it's a little holiday with a fringe benefit.

Alas, it's not child-free. But, we will be staying in style at the Gault and eating at Laloux and shopping our asses off a trois. And won't it make for some fun posting upon my return...

Note: Via is having a special on superdiscount summer fares and kids ride free, which means I got 3 tickets return (steerage, natch) for 306.00 - all taxes in! Do treat yourself to a holiday there soon...

Something's Afoot

And, for once, I didn't buy it...

During Spring Shoe theme week, a while back, I alluded to a fun shopping moment I had with my friend Jennifer. She is a most delicate creature - petite with fine bones and tiny little feet. You might imagine that such podalic refinedness would be desirable. However, you wouldn't be the gal who searches high and low for walkable, wearable, office appropriate and or other shoe styles that come in your size.

Take it from her - and I've shoe shopped many times with J over the years - it is no fun having feet that are smaller than a 6. Especially since a size 6 today is more like a size 7 was 10 - 15 years ago. You know, it's vanity sizing?!

Cut to two, post-lunch window shoppers who drop into 9West, just to look at a red gladiator one ordered in on a whim the week before. While said gladiatress was admiring a sandal she was destined to purchase, Jennifer spied - of all great things - 9West Kids. This was comprised of about 6 pairs of shoes in "child sizing", the largest of which was considerably bigger than a women's 5 and a half. Guess who walked out with two adorable styles (btw, not childlike enough for actual children, IMO): one plum mary jane and one black patent wedge sandle with a peekaboo toe.

The moral of the story? If you are a delicate flower, get thee to a 9West and see if you get lucky.

Speechless...

Thank you generous Bronwyn, of FashionAbility, for giving a blogger newbie such a terrific thrill!

When I started this blog recently, I could not have imagined a) the amount of creative energy and contentment it would inspire in me and b) the awesome community of like-minded bloggers I'd have a chance to connect with. For this alone, I would be incredibly grateful - but here it's just got better...

S0, here are the participation rules:

1. If you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think.

2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme.

3. Optional: Proudly display the 'Thinking Blogger Award' with a link to the post that you wrote.

(Oh, I'm so about the proud display!)

And apparently, I - and those I tag - have to answer the following:

What is the story behind the name of your blog and nickname?

My husband is one of those people who can come up with a perfect (fake) name for anything i.e. a fictitious pet store, new product etc. I must have run 100 choices by him before he said "Why not k-line? It's got the first letter of your first name and it's a straightforward fashion reference." Seemed good to me. My nickname is the same as my blog name to keep it simple...

What has been your best or worst blogging experience?

I have so many little best experiences each week with this blog. On a macro-level, I'd have to say the best thing is being motivated to write and share my love of fashion. On a micro-level, it was pretty exciting for me when I got linked to for the first time by, Lady of Lacquer, a blog I really respect. Oh, and having the chance to comment on the great ideas of others - and to receive comments on my own posts - is a recurrent best.

What do you want to happen to your blog in 2008?

If only Bronwyn hadn't taken world domination, this would be a no-brainer! :-) What I'd love is to increase my readership as a way to enjoy more meaningful communication with bloggers around the globe. I'd also love it if the blog inspired some planner at L'Oreal Fashion Week in TO to get me a couple of tickets to a show :-)

Blogs that Inspire Me to Think (Who May Well Have Been Tagged Already):

Agathe at Style Bytes makes me think about the act of dressing in a totally new (theatrical/young/foreign) way.

Riz at Mode et Utopie is, like, the thinkiest person ever.

WendyB deserves this simply for her knowledge of British history - never mind her business acumen and gorgeous design!

Suzanna Mars at Style Sauvage helps me to contextualize the collections, along with Riz.

Stopping at 5 is going to be seriously tough but I'll finish with Dreamecho, a woman who brings her personal philosophy to her style.