Wednesday, December 23, 2009

In Which Frye Makes Me Cry (Not Really, But It Was Close)

I go through a lot of boots. I mostly wear dresses, and as I walk everywhere and therefor can't wear heels most days I pretty much live in tall boots. I wear them fairly hard too. I have a weird heel wear pattern and rarely get through a season without having to get a zipper replaced. I blame the zipper issue partially on my chubby calves, which cause a little buckling around the ankle, which is where the zip eventually fails.  And it's not that I'm buying cheap boots either. I do, however, balk at spending over $300 on footwear. Which is why I've been having a quarter decade unfulfilled love affair with Frye.

Frye boots are amazing. Sadly they're also hella trendy and everywhere now. And by everywhere I mean I've seen them at Winners. Not the styles I'm particularly smitten with, but still. I've had my eye on the Veronica Slouch for years, but haven't been happy with the brown the past few seasons. They've been doing a weird distressed thing, which I can't get down with (not apparent in the photo above, but super obvious on the physical beast). Whaddup with that, Frye? But these bad boys accommodate my monster calf and don't have a zipper, so booya, boots that might see a few Septembers. I've been patiently waiting for the right brown to come about, using that time to convince myself that I'd be better off dropping a short stack of Borden's (like Benjamin's, only Canadian) on one pair of boots with workmanship that will get me through a few seasons.

And then ....

I found these.

That's right, a Frye boot named after me. Well, maybe not named after me, exactly, but c'mon, there's a kinship there. Sort of like how I felt about Melissa Gilbert and Melissa Sue Anderson (Laura and Mary Ingalls to you). And come to think of it, these boots would have looked quite at home in Walnut Creek.

But I digress.

I've been seeing these everywhere, it's like they're stalking me. On many of my favorite fashion blogs, (see, Jessica at What I Wore knows what's down) on a lady on Fort Street I chased down to ask about them. She said it was her first day wearing them and she'd been comfy-cosy-no-sore-feet for eight hours. These, boots ... despite the terrifyingly narrow looking shaft, well, I had to swallow my pride and try.

So I went to Footloose today after work and, dear sweet baby Jesus (BTW - happy birthday!) they were on sale. Of course the lovely little pixie behind the till was wearing them. Tease. So I tried them on, and for a moment there was hope. Then horror of horrors ... wait for it .... my calf ...

My calf had a muffin top.

That's right. They didn't go up all the way because the gargantuan latitude of my calf prevented the sweet buttery leather from sliding up the full length, forcing some very 80s scrunching in the boot and some very unflattering flesh squeeze above it.

So no early Christmas present for me. No hints dropped to Hank that he can save himself the trouble of a ring and just offer these up with the promise of eternal love and stylish foot comfort. I'll stay just as I am, hobbling along on last year's worn-heel beauties, waiting for the right brown to come about in the Veronica Slouch.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Thursday Five - Ways I Might Die or Sustain Major Injury

Pardon the morbidity, but I've been giving this a lot of thought lately. Not because I have some weird death fetish thing, but because I am really accident prone and a touch of a hypochondriac. Seriously. Ever see my try to walk?

1. Trip Over Griffin and Hit my Head
When I first got Griffin (14ish years ago) a friend of mine nicknamed him Underfoot because he always is. I've tripped over, stepped on, punted and kicked the stinky little ginge (accidentally, obviously) innumerable times over the years, and he still has the nerve to act all indignant. Whatever, Griffin. I picture me bailing over the cat and hitting my head or neck like that scene in Million Dollar Baby. Craaaack. And I'm dead, or worse, paralyzed.

Plotting the next attack. 

2. Choke on a Hair Pin
I have a bad habit of holding hair pins in my mouth while putting my hair up. It would be just my style to somehow inhale and choke on one.

3. Brain Tumor
 Over the past few years I've been fairly convinced I've had all of the following - lupus (hypochondriac favorite because it can explain so many random symptoms), breast cancer, lyme disease, the herp, colitis, inflammatory bowel disease ... among others. But brain tumors ... oh man, I keep coming back to that one. Random stabbing pains in the head? Brain tumor! Lumpy forhead? Brain tumor! Weird vision things? Brain tumor! Most likely I'm just really tired and have a naturally lumpy skull, but part of me is always in fear of a tumor. Anurysm's, clots, and other brain maladies freak me out too. I totally had to stop watching House, because it just fed the fear.

4. Random Bystander Victim of Violence
 I've both witnessed a stabbing and narrowly missed being plugged by a stray bullet. So narrowly that the concrete shrapnel from the wall the bullet lodged in hit my friend in the face. True story. I've also stepped in to break up fights on the street, which is pretty stupid given that people tend to get shot, stabbed or severely beaten trying to help in such situations.

5. Under an Avalanche of Pots in My Kitchen
I love my hanging pot rack. It keeps the kitchen tidy and frees up cupboard space. However, it's right above my chopping block, and I've several times thought 'damn, this would be a terrible place to be standing during an earthquake'.

Pot Rack of Death

Do you have any weird phobias? Ways you think the Reaper might getcha?

Friday, December 11, 2009

Merry Christmas to Me?

I popped the heel off a boot yesterday. Now, this is by no means a tragedy. The heels and zippers had already been replaced once, and though they still look good, they're leaky in the rain. And it rains here. A lot. I've been keeping an eye out for a stylish-yet-practical pair of boots to replace them, as I rely pretty heavily on them for my on-foot commute to work. Tis the season for great prices, and I'm in the market. So what did I come home with today?


Jump's Bliss Boot. Indeed.

Ok. I may have missed the mark on practical.

But here's the deal. I saw them yesterday. I fondled them. I loved them. I did not try them on. I spent a good 30 minutes last night searching online to no avail (turns out I had the brand wrong). I went back at lunch today. They weren't on the shelf! 'Oh noes!' I though. 'Did I dream them? We're they at a different store? Was I high?' The I saw it. On the sale wall. $40 off. And only one pair in each of the colours. And both in my size. This never happens. I am an 8.5 or 9, which seems big, but is surprisingly standard. Usually last one left's are more in the range of 5.5 or 10. So see, it was meant to be. I struggled with the purple or black decision - black is so practical, but most of my shoes are black, and I thought I'd wear the purple ones more in the spring. So these entirely impractical purple boots now call my feet home, which leaves me with a small matter of replacing leaky day-to-day wear black boots to deal with.

I also picked up a new Moleskine day planner, which I will use to record lists and my one good idea, per the white person mandate.

And because that wasn't enough giving to myself this holiday season, my A Year In Yes Calendar came in the mail this morning.


It actually came while I was reading Yes and Yes , which was kind of funny. I know I can be a bit of a cynic and don't usually go for inspirational type stuff, but most of it is garden variety kittens n' quotes and Chicken Soup for the Soul type scmaltz, and that shit straight up makes me gag. This little gem though ... it's so pretty and thoughtful and charming with a dash of irreverence. I may have teared up a little. It also came with a little handwritten note from the lovely Sarah Von, who I think I might be developing a bit of a blogger crush on. I think you should check it out. It's a lovely gift, for yourself or a bestie, and at $18 is on par price wise with the big glossies. And you get the satisfaction of knowing that your money is going to an actual person, who put time and effort and heart into making something beautiful and putting it out into the world.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Winter Skin

OK, I know this makes me a total pansy, and, having done time in Kingston and Montreal I should be tougher than this, but oh. my. god ... my skin is freaking out with this cold, dry air. How did the Ingalls ladies maintain their healthy, warm glow with all the manual labour and walking miles into town for an education in the blustery snow wearing thin lace-up boots and tights, and with only a wood stove to keep them warm at night? I'm starting to empathize! Yes, I know it's barely -1, and everyone east of Hope has it so much harder, but whatever, when you live in Xanadu you soften up.

The problem isn't my face. It's holding up rather well. I've had my seasonal blemish, and am so over it. It's everything else. Mostly my legs. I swear, the other day they were so dry and itchy I wouldn't have been surprised to see -looks around, and whispers - flaking. Ewww! They're so dry it hurts to shave. But I am an optimist, and don't believe in neglecting maintenance just because it's not summer, so maintain I will! My arms and back are also feeling the cold, and I'm sure sleeping in a 16 degree bedroom isn't helping.

I'm not a huge fan of heavy moisturizers and tend towards body oils. I've been using this Alba Kuki Nut Organic Body Oil for a while now.

It has a light but nutty, summery scent that makes me want to have someone snuggle in close, so I try to not hold it responsible for the fact that it also makes me think of Jessica Alba's sourpuss face every time I use it. It's not the product's fault any more than it's my fault that my surname was used in a KY ad. I mean really ... KY is for amateurs. But I digress. Back to the Alba oil, sadly though I'm not sure it's going to get me through the winter. It might be relegated to spring/summer status.

So, if anyone out there wants to toss the name of their favorite light-by-effective moisturizing product my way my verging on flaky legs and I would surely thank you.

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

She's So Delicious

Just a wee note to say that I've started a sister blog to for my experiements in the kitchen. If looking at fashion makes you hungry, or you need something to munch on post bowl-smoking as you chillax to a podcast, pop on over to She's So Delicious for a little divine inspiration.

Sunday, December 06, 2009

Versatile Dress, with a Side of Boob

I love having boobs and curve and all that, but am a little jealous of more conservatively endowed women who can rock the no bra, super slouchy or super architectural and structured look. I've been mooning over this dress (found at Wear it Like You Mean It), but think it's more appropriate on a Kate Husdon type body. 

She sells some pretty sweet and very versatile peices on here on etsy. I love the idea of having a dress that can be worn several ways (and bonus, is reversible), and think this is so much more original and contemporary than the Infinite Dress, which may or may not be the same one I remember seeing as a kid on the Home Shopping Network. Donna Karen and American Apparel have versions of it too (and half of Craftster seems to have made versions) but they're basically just a jersey tube with two long, wide straps that can be wrapped several ways. Although the Donna Karen one does at least have some volume on the skirt part, which gives me more hope for the hips than the AA version, which has a so-3-years-ago asymetical raw hem or the the Infinite Dress, which screams Real Housewives of Orange County resort wear, and would go fantastically well with a Bumpit.

What do you think? Is there hope for a dress like this working on a girl that's packing heat front and back? Or is it the domain of the lithe, lean, braless wonders?

Saturday, December 05, 2009

1,591,311th Best (or Worst?) at Something. Yeah Me!

It's Saturday night and I had tentative plans to go to the Mint Records Christmas Party at Logan's to see the Pack AD. Instead I decided to complete my transformation to Sad Old Bastard by donning my new seasonal (snowflake!) flannel pjs and curling up on the couch with a 14 year old bulimic ginger cat for a nap. I win at life. 

Of course, the geriatric ginger had to wake me up (by yowling in my face) so he could refuel his vomit cannon, so now I'm awake and in that weird not ready to go to bed place. Thanks, cat.

So what's a girl to do? Something that requires almost no effort and will kill a good half hour? 

If said girl is a bit of narcissist the answer is Google self. Obviously. So I Googled shessomelicious and was surprised and amused to find that much of what came up, even before this blog, was Twitter related. For instance, a tweet meme from a friend's summer post about an eye patch I embroidered for him. (Click images to enlarge)

And some site that posts tweets about love and seduction, although mine is really about my love for nerdy Canadian indy music.

And my personal make my mama proud favorite ... someone (Richard Henry) with too much time on their hands has created a site that tracks swearing in Twitter posts, and apparently I swear like a bad golfer.

That's right, bitches, I'm ranked  1,591,311th sweariest Twitterer in the world. 

I'm being outsworn by  Dooce (543,953 - swears like a Gangsta Rapper) and the ladies from The Boobs who both swear like George Carlin, despite the wide gap in their rankings (glossyloca is ranked 34,673 desboobs is 5,710th).

I don't really know what the rankings are, but if there's something more along the lines of swears like a redneck that just found out her husband is her brother ... well, I'm going to make that my goal.

Mama Wants

Meet the Tord Boontje for Habitat Garland Lampshade. I want it so bad my teeth hurt.

I want this. I want it bad. Does anyone know where I can get it in BC? Even the ones on eBay are in the UK. Booo!!!! I'm fairly sure I've seen it in a store, am thinking an art gallery? Maybe the VAG? That would be grand. Could have been the MOCA in LA. That would be less convenient. 

It's sooooo pretty, and will go so nicely in my soon to be redecorated bedroom. Silver or copper would do.

Please keep your peepers peeled. 
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