Practice makes fucking perfect.

Hello Anger, it’s me again.

The five stages of grief:

1. Denial (I can’t believe this.)
2. Anger (I really can’t fucking believe this.)
3. Bargaining (fucking kill me.)
4. Depression (I really really can’t fucking believe this.)
5. Acceptance (fuck it.)

In the past 3 years, I have become good friends with each stage. The more times you do it, the better you get.

I am so. fucking. over. it.

Might as well get a one way to acceptance, but not before a small layover to visit my friends in depression. We’ll make it quick this time.

Perfect mood for some dark and gothic Anne Hathaway.

Anne Hathaway 3 Anne Hathaway 5 Anne Hathaway 6 Anne Hathaway 7 Anne Hathaway 8 Anne Hathaway Anne Hathaway2 Anne Hathway 4

work life musings.

I always find it strange to think about the frail yet dynamic nature of relationships, for all relationships; not just those reserved for a partner or significant other.

All it takes is a little time, sprinkled with a touch of space and your closest most bosom friend is now just another stranger.  But it works both ways, and I guess that’s where the solace lies.

I give credit where credit is due - thanks JVYN for introducing me to this little piece of gold.

I give credit where credit is due – thanks JVYN for introducing me to this little piece of literature beauty.

Neither here nor there

Sometimes the best paradigm shift comes from the most unlikely of sources – my typically spoiled and undeniably sheltered little brother. Underaged advice of the day: if you know what you want, nothing else matters. Everything else is neither here nor there (of course there was no way he phrased it that eloquently, but that was his point).

Anyways, given that I have work early and I can already feel the effects of old age burrowing deep into my bones, I will keep this post quick and simple. I didn’t want to lose the momentum of consistent posting so I figured I’d at least post some random end of the weekend musings.

Weekend highlights:

1. Spent quality time with the broskis: we watched Elysium, which by the way was so garbage that he didn’t mind using the washroom midway through. And everyone knows, movie washroom breaks are SO taboo.
2. Watched some old, rotund greek man dancing to greek music and throwing paper towels in the sky (wasteful, yet endearing).
3. Went to Chapters and bought a sketch book (I’ve finally decided to hone in on my non-existent artistic abilities). I’m also a stationary slut, and so went ape shit over all the pretty stationary they have on sale.

My weekends are so exciting, I know.

Last post I put up photography by Jean-Baptiste Mondino, picking ones that seemed to integrate best into the musical theme of the post. I’ve decided for this post I would continue with his photos because he definitely has better ones, and overlooking them would be a shame. It was somewhat hard narrowing down which images I wanted to share because I actually like a majority of his pictures, which isn’t always common. He is a french fashion photographer and a videographer (mostly making music videos for many well known artists), with his spectrum of pictures encompassing both the conventional fashion editorials and something a little different. Thank god for massive uploading, because despite my attempts I still could only wither it down to 20+ photos (which is the most I think I’ve ever uploaded yet).

Style: "COLOR"

At first I tried really hard to limit the number of pictures I was going to post because I was afraid I’d run the risk of making this post a little too long and boring… but then I realized it was 1:30 am and that I did not give an ‘eff’.

Art is art, and exposure is awesome. Not that this tiny little blog would make much of a difference, but whatever.

Check out his page for more of his photos and videos: http://www.jeanbaptistemondino.com

05 – Instant Crush

Photographer: Jean-Baptiste Mondino 

Someone asked me once if I get tired of walking around listening to music all day.The truth is, yeah. Sometimes I do.

Realistically? I have small ear holes, and after awhile the ear buds make my ears ache.

But aside from that, no I honestly do not. To me it offers a backdrop that mimics a double-hinged door capable of swinging both ways. On one hand it can serve my mood, whether it be a moment of self-pity or an aimless meander through the city. A fact especially true given that I am free and perfectly capable of picking my own songs. After all, I made the playlist – I can push the door whichever way I want. But then there’s that one moment where you forget that the door swings back, and you’re hit unexpectedly.

This probably just sounds like a load shit, but give it a moment to contextualize. Like any other normal easily impressionable person, shit happens and your emotional cues respond accordingly. In fact, what I’ve come to realize is that somethings are generalizable to the entire population, and it is because of this that people can write love ballads, create rom-coms (romantic comedies for all you abbreviating noobs), or talk about heartbreak in the same “demolishing-the-world-of-kleenex-with-a-tub-of-ben-and-jerrys” way. Everyone rides the love coaster, and everyone’s advice is nearly identical. So when dealing with depressing shit, you plug in to depressing music (cause that’s just what you do, just flip to any montage of any movie where the protagonist is dealing with some sort of epic lost love) – which to me has been ridden with the likes of death cab, the postal service and the XX.

So, you’ve picked your poison. You want to wallow? Go ahead. Push the door in that direction, I mean you’ve perfectly catered your playlist for that exact reason. Just be aware, that when it swings back you’ll get hit with the likes of track 05 – instant crush. And although this song is about some sort of demented love triangle, the name itself and the uppity beat of the song gives you a fleeting reminder of what it was like to have that moment of connection brought on by the slightest inadvertent brush of arm hairs, the childish but not so childish peripheral side stare; or that sudden increase in heart rate when  it feels like you only have five seconds to perfectly (and seemingly effortlessly) craft something both parts intriguing and indifferent to say. This is where you become an overplayed cliche, and know that everything will be okay while hoping it’ll come again: an instant crush.

Do my ears hurt? Yes. But getting hit by that door, damn can it be refreshing.

On a city gallivanting note – my thing this summer has been free outdoor films. Entertainment for those living under the poverty line. I think my love for outdoor films came to fruition during last years open roof festival which was a combination of a local band and a documentary (which is still on by the way). I must also be subconsciously emotionally sadistic in nature, because I have made it my thing to catch the romance themed TIFF in the park series at David Pecaut Square every Wednesday. The selection was just too perfect I couldn’t resist, with the likes of young Cher and Nicholas Cage in “Moonstruck”, the  classic Meg Ryan/Tom Hanks duo in “Sleepless in Seattle” and who could turn down Robert Redford in “The Way We Were”.

FYI: There are free movies playing almost everyday of the week (i.e. Sundays at Christie Pits, every second Friday at the Junction, Tuesdays at Yonge and Dundas). This Wednesday there will be a screening of “Triplets of Belleville” at Harbourfront, which I highly recommend and is a total must see.  Plus it’s pretty sitting outside, and the ambience is always nice.

Donnie Yen on screen @ Reel Asian Film Festival (there is still a free exhibit at the TIFF bell lightbox)

Donnie Yen on screen @ Reel Asian Film Festival (there is still a free exhibit at the TIFF bell lightbox)

Watching a movie with shoes on is so overrated.

Watching a movie with shoes on is so overrated.

TIFF in the park

TIFF in the park + CN tower

NYC in TO

NYC in TO

“if your not busy being born, your busy dying” – bob 

His name? It was Giorgio.

Having been at least two months since my last post, I will admit I am a bit nervous. I have this nasty habit of over thinking things, and as such am positive that this post will be slightly sub par. But I will readily blame that on my rusty blogging skills, and the fact that I am blogging at work (it’s the little acts of rebellion that makes life interesting).

However, despite my apparent neglect, I habitually continue to think about the things that I can blog about and have accumulated a billion (slightly exaggerated, there’s really like ten) pictures that I could share. It also occurred to me a few weeks ago that I missed my blogging birthday. Just one year and a few weeks ago, I decided to cross “starting a blog” off my bucket list, jetted off on my own little travel adventure and started sharing life nonsense with everybody and nobody all at the same time. So – Happy belated blogging birthday to me!

So his name? It’s not really Giorgio.

Every morning, I follow the same mundane routine. I come into work, I grab a coffee and I walk by a set of chairs that is infallibly inhabited by this tiny old man wearing the same brown trousers and navy windbreaker, even if it’s 43 degrees Celsius out (with humidity). Every evening when I leave, I retrace my steps back past those same sets of chairs and out the same door, past the same special old man. And every morning he tells me I’m beautiful, and every night he wishes that I have a good one. Sometimes, he even says “bon giorno” (I’m sure just to spice things up), genuinely followed by “have a great day beautiful”. He makes my day, even if he doesn’t know it, even if sometimes I don’t know it myself. In fact, when he’s not there I find myself missing this adorable nameless stranger.

I have decided, I will learn his name. One day, I will be walking by and be so seriously afflicted with another case of the fuck its that I will not care who stares at me, or whose standing around… I will sit down and talk to him.

But until then, I will call him Giorgio.

Old people rule, and man can they be fabulous.

The next set of images are photos that I loved and found on other sites, but mostly taken from fashion photographer Ari Seth Cohen’s blog “Advanced Style” (he also has a book and a documentary). His collaboration with Karen Walker features models ages 60 – 90ish rocking her 2013 sunglasses collection. And damn, these ladies were on point. Threw in some Iris Apfel for color, street stylishly savvy gents and women that remind us you’re never too old to be killin’ it.

Model: Ilona Royce Smithkin, 92 years old from Karen Walker Eyewear & Advanced Style

Model: Ilona Royce Smithkin, 92 years old from Karen Walker Eyewear & Advanced Style

Model: Lynn Dell, 80 years old from Karen Walker Eyewear & Advanced Style

Model: Lynn Dell, 80 years old from Karen Walker Eyewear & Advanced Style

Model: Linda Rodin, 65 years old from Karen Walker Eyewear & Advanced Style

Model: Linda Rodin, 65 years old from Karen Walker Eyewear & Advanced Style

Model: Joyce Carpati, 80 years old from Karen Walker Eyewear & Advanced Style

Model: Joyce Carpati, 80 years old from Karen Walker Eyewear & Advanced Style

Ruth, 100 years old

Ruth, 100 years old

Jacqueline Tajah Murdock, 82 years old

Model: Jacqueline Tajah Murdock, 82 years old

Model: Tziporah Salamon, 62 years old

Model: Tziporah Salamon, 62 years old

Tziporah Salamon

Bow ties, blue skies (from Advanced Style)

Bow ties, blue skies
(from Advanced Style)

Iris Apfel

Iris Apfel

Iris Apfel on the cover of Dazed and Confused (she's holding a tweety cup!)

Iris Apfel on the cover of Dazed and Confused (she’s holding a tweety cup!)

Iris Apfel

Iris Apfel for MAC cosmetics

To learn more about the models, read some interviews or generally look at wicked pictures:
http://advancedstyle.blogspot.ca
http://www.karenwalkereyewear.com/

Forbidden Love

This is kind of a reblog, off myself.

I had previously posted these pictures elsewhere, but I felt this underlying guilt for somewhat neglecting this blog. It was my original baby after all, but I have my reasons… I swear.

These photos are from a vietnamese fashion magazine, Dep Magazine by fashion photographer An Le for the March 2012 issue. I can’t actually read Vietnamese so I had it translated via google translate, which came up with all kinds of fashion, celebrity, love and sex advice in broken english that didn’t quite make any sense at all.

Not saying it was impossible, but I just never thought of looking into countries that were not huge fashion leaders for fashion related things. But I’m glad I did, because these are awesome. Plus, it’s cool to know. And broken english advice is actually quite entertaining – keep it “half love half sex” (up for interpretation).

But hey, they might just be onto something… maybe there’d be half the broken hearts with half the love.

An Le Forbidden Love An Le Forbidden Love An Le Forbidden Love An Le Forbidden Love An Le Forbidden Love An Le Forbidden Love An Le Forbidden Love