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

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/

Breathing Class

The other day during my pulmonary rehab rotation, I attended breathing class.

To better understand the relevance, I shall explain.

Pulmonary rehabilitation is usually attended by people who have breathing problems. Most of the time there are issues with the lung, and disease within the airway itself. Basically, the people here can barely walk a few steps without feeling short of breathe and starved for some air. If they’re not already on oxygen (it’s a drug, you know), they’re pretty much heading down that path.

Truthfully, I was slightly nervous because I actually have no idea what goes on in breathing class, and I’m always afraid someone will ask me a question to which I will respond with a wide eyed blank stare. So at 9 am, I walk into breathing class and quickly notice that everyone around me is a legal senior citizen, with the exception of one girl who must have been in her forties. Everyone has oxygen, a cane or some sort of assisted walking device.

Now before I continue, I want to point out that I have a highly competitive nature. Keep this in mind as you judge me. Please.

As class progresses, we learn different breathing techniques, how to cope with attacks of breathlessness, the best way to breathe etcetera etcetera. To be honest, they work us kind of hard: we walk around a bit, stretch, make ourselves short of breath while applying and perfecting our breathing excerises. We even do some tai chi; which, might I add was deliciously free. I mean all and all, as a twenty something, somewhat healthy female whose only real (yet significant) ailment is laziness, even I was tired.

So what do I do? I try to compete against the old people for who can be a better breather. At everything. I try to make my tai chi flowier, I try to walk faster, stretch further.

“Teacher: Breathe in and out, and if you can handle it stand up”

And this, my friends, is where I realize what a competitive loser I am. Why? Because I am obviously the only person standing since clearly I have no lung problems, require no oxygen and can walk freely on my own. In my mind, I think I’m really pushing the limits, when really here I am, trying to outdo these nice old people who just want to breathe. I am such a monster.

But seriously, there are so many things in life taken for granted, and I can definitely say breathing is one of them. It comes so naturally, that the idea of it taken away is so unfathomable, that it’s not even possible. Imagine how dreadful it must be to not be able to walk more then three steps without stopping, or suffocating just to brush your teeth or change your clothes.

Lesson here? Love your lungs. (also, nobody likes a competitive boar)

So, in conclusion of a slightly depressing subject. I will continue the pattern of “insert-here-somewhat-relevant-yet-completely-irrelevant” photos that I like. As we need air to breathe, and the whole jumping in the air photo pose thing is so popular now a days (notice how I cleverly bridged that with an enormous stretch), I’ve decided to post photos from the Fly Series by Melvin Sokolsky who very creatively did the jumping in the air thing way before of his current day counterparts – in 1965.

Harpers Bazaar Spring Collection, 1965.

Harpers Bazaar Spring Collection, 1965.

Harpers Bazaar, Spring Collection, 1965. I particularly like this one because of the models expression, the background and the candid cuddling couple in the corner.

I particularly like this one because of the models expression, the background and the candid cuddling couple in the corner.

Harpers Bazaar Spring Collection, 1965. I just think the model here looks like she's having a blast.

I just think the model here looks like she’s having a blast.

Basically, he made his models jump, took mid air shots and made it look awesome. Since I believe all artists deserve some recognition, I’m going to post a link to his blog for some free time perusing – http://sokolsky.posterous.com.

Quarter century

True to my word, I am back for my monthly post.

Turns out, today is my birthday. I’m officially 25 (I don’t know why I was surprised, I knew this day was coming, but still… it was a shocker).

Birthdays are so weird to me, because I don’t usually feel any different. But today, I actually do feel older. Maybe it’s because everybody keeps referring to it as my quarter century. Thinking of this way almost makes me feel like I’m quarter of the way to dying or something, since who really lives a full century now a days.

Having a sister 10 years older then me, I’ve always seen 25 (or dare I say it… late 20’s) as something of the far off future. But now I’m here at what seems like lightning speed, and man I really feel like I’m running out of time. Or like I haven’t accomplished or done anything at all except perfect my finely tuned academic facade.

So you know what this means right?

1. Tonight is gonna be quite the party

2. It’s time to see the world

3. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to eat healthy (this is more a goal, but thought I’d throw it out there since I’m on the theme of aging. And let’s face it: with one hip surgery under my belt I’m no spring chicken!)

4. It’s time. To see. The world. So important of a point it gets another mention. Which means it’s time to start planning my next trip.

Me thinks I’m going to asia!

Anyways, happy birthday to all you other late birthday bloomers out there. Trailing behind the age pack sucked when it defined your legal status, but you only turn legal once and everyone else will always be getting older first. So I guess it’s not so bad after all.

Birthday or not, hope everyone has the best day ever… because this is, without a doubt, a special day for someone somewhere. And that in itself warrants a few smiles 🙂

These photos by Luis Monteiro puts me in a colourful birthday mood :)

These photos by Luis Monteiro for Tatler puts me in a colourful birthday mood

If it was warm outside, and I had these balloons.. this is what I'd be doing.

If it was warm outside, and I had these balloons.. this is what I’d be doing.

And, that’s life.

Shit happens, and that’s life.

I know this, I’ve mentioned it before. Yet for some reason I need to keep reminding myself of this simple mantra. More likely it pops up because someone else does the reminding for me.

Shit indeed does happen, but the key is what you choose to do with it. And as slow as the days seem to drudge by, they always do.

Why? Cause that’s life.

Felt like something dark, and the darker-ish shades of this fit my mood. Model: Jessica Stam, Fashion Photog: Miguel Reveriego, Magie Noire Editorial

Felt like something dark, and the darker-ish colours of this fit my room.

Shots from the Control Editorial by Mariano Vivanco in an older issue Wonderland Magazine I had seen a while back.

Shots from the Control Editorial by Mariano Vivanco in an older issue of Wonderland Magazine I had seen a while back in an imaginary store somewhere.