Sunday, 27 January 2013

Uptown Girl


Don't get me wrong, I'm much more of a downtown girl than an uptown girl, but sometimes I like moonlighting as the kind of girl who wears shoes with bows. The kind of girl who would choose fur over leather, pearls over chains, and pink lipstick over black eyeliner. But when it comes right down to it I would rather go joyriding with the guy covered in tattoos than have dinner at the country club with the guy who wears a suit 9-5. Though come to think of it, a combination of the two would be even better ;)

Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Restlessness, or You Can't Always Get What You Want




It's Tuesday morning here in snowy Halifax, and instead of working on homework or research or job applications I'm sitting here listening to dance-infused rap and blogging. Talk about productivity, eh? I'm secretly praying that school gets cancelled because of the snow, but we're Canadian and we don't get snow days...

Lately, I've been having a pretty hard time wanting to do anything productive. Sure, I always get things done (hello, I have a failsafe work ethic), but the truth is that all I want to do is buy a plane ticket to somewhere where the daylight lasts til 10pm, the air is balmy, and the trees are climb-able. Maybe it's just because it's the dead of Winter, but I've never wanted the freedom of summer more.

I should probably go back to working on things now... or maybe I'll sit here and watch another episode of Prison Break and eat a banana. 

Sunday, 20 January 2013

The Wild Things


Hunting laughter on the city streets
The smell of ozone & garbage bin fires
Views of darkness in the depths of alleyways
The wild things are coming.

Strobelights from the buzzing sky
Broken lightbulbs crunching underfoot
The crowd surrounds with closed eyes
The wild things are coming.

Following the glowing pheromones
Liquid moments from twilight to dawn
Birds and mice play into the night
The wild things are coming. 

Heels by Karen Scott; tights by Betsey Johnson

Thursday, 17 January 2013

Genre Mixing, or Too Many Options

When we work on Cataloguing at the library, we're often faced with difficult choices. We can't have co-genres, there is no sharing the main entry, and we can't combine subjects except in very specific ways. Now I'm a pretty decisive person (95 points out of 100 on the personality test we did last semester, higher than anyone else in the class), but having to choose single topics for books drives me nuts. I always come to a decision eventually, but there's this little voice inside my head that keeps whinging about how the Anglo-American Cataloguing rules and Library of Congress Subject Headings need to learn to cooperate.

I have the same problem when it comes to clothing patterns. Some people live under the assumption that simple is best, but honestly I find that rather dull. Why shouldn't I wear stripes and polkadots at the same time? Why can't I wear decorative brocaide and leopard in the same outfit? Sometimes patterns just don't go well together, but if you learn to coordinate them properly then the combination can be fabulous. The other day I wore this outfit which contains five - that's right, five - patterns without batting an eye. Sure I got some weird looks, but I just figure that the people who can't handle it just don't have any style!

H&M tunic, Calvin Klein leopard print cardigan, Ardene zebra print earrings, Sirens marbled leggings, thrifted studded waist belt, paint-by-number Converse Project Red Chuck Taylor All Star runners. 

Tuesday, 15 January 2013

Celebrity Status

image from here
Lately I've been thinking a lot about how awesome it is that the internet has brought the world closer together through social media. Back in the day it took ages for letters to go through the snail mail system, email addresses were a private commodity, and the high and mighty might as well have been living on Mount Olympus for all that we could communicate with them. Obviously I don't care so much about politicians and the typical "world leaders," but I'm really into the fact that the people with talent are using Twitter & personal blogs to connect with their fans and share their ideas.

For me, the most interesting are the people of the fashion world. Fashion is art that you wear every day, and these people are some of the most creative and innovative minds of the present day. Whenever they choose to share their thoughts through social media we get a glimpse of what goes on behind the scenes, and (as anyone who knows anything about art knows) what goes on in their life is what often informs their art.

image from here
Roberto Cavalli (the Italian designer who is known for his flambouyant prints and embellishments) is one of those who blogs regularly, and while we may be thousands of miles away from Italy (and thousands of dollars too poor to afford his designs) we can get a taste of his lifestyle & passions from reading his blog. Cavalli may live a completely different lifestyle than that of us "regular people," what with his hob-nobbing with Zack Effron & travel by personal yacht, he shares many of the same values as the rest of us. He worries about the implications of the Italian elections, he cares deeply about his large family, and he shares amusing annecdotes about his two canines.

image from here
When it comes down to it, no matter how much money someone has, it seems that they retain a certain sense of human consciousness, and thanks to the power of social media we're all able to see that the gap between the rich and the regular is made by nothing more than a bank account balance. What I wish, though, was that we had had this technology sooner. Can you imagine what we could have learned if Yves Saint Laurant, Coco Chanel, or Christian Dior had been able to speak to the world this way? They may have kept diaries, which are a start to understanding who they really were, but it would have been a revalation to be able to connect with them. 

Sunday, 13 January 2013

741.5, or My Love Affair with Dewey: a Sunday Shoe Story

Frankie & Dany "New Alva" pumps
& a week's worth of library books

Once upon a time I woke up and realized what I wanted to do with my life: I wanted to be a librarian. At the time I was about 12 years old, so no one really believed me when I started marching around declaring that I had found my one true love.

"You can't fall in love with books!" they said, "You're only 12, you'll change your mind next week."

What no one counted on was how stubborn I was. I sat through the remaining years of elementary, putting an emphasis on reading as much as I possibly could. And then the five years of torture known as high school, where I laughed at math and gym (librarians don't need those besides practical finances) and excelled at English and Social Studies. And then four years of post-graduate studies, where I lost touch with reading "for fun" in lieu of reading for coursework.

Cut to 13 years later: the highlight of my week is still going to the library, I still read about a dozen books every week, and I'm about to graduate with my Masters of Library and Information Studies degree, which will make me a fully-certified librarian.

Now the question becomes: who's going to hire me, so that I can continue my love affair with Dewey?

BTW 741.5 is the Dewey Decimal number for comic books and graphic novels. And now you know!

Saturday, 12 January 2013

Talk to Me, Baby (or not)


OPI "Yodel me on my Cell"
from the Holland Collection
The portability of cellphones is supposed to help us connect more easily to the world around us, correct? They make us available anywhere, anytime, and to anyone who dials the appropriate number. Theoretically this is a great innovation, because we can keep in touch with people on our own time and when it is most convenient. Waiting by the phone has largely been eliminated, since our phones now travel with us wherever we go.

Yet, even though are able to connect so easily with each other we don’t seem to be following through with this notion. We’re all attached to our phones in the most symbiotic way (I’m guilty as well, considering that I sleep with my phone right beside my head), but sometimes we don’t answer back. I’ve found that a few people I know are particularly guilty of this (ironically the people who are even more attached to their phones as I am), since they routinely don’t answer text messages or phone calls from people. I may be guilty of screening my calls (hello, I love call display), but there are only three reasons why I don’t answer a text message from someone:

  1. If I’m asleep. Obviously my phone is on silent during the night so I have no idea if someone is trying to get in touch with me, but sure enough as soon as I regain consciousness that text will get answered!
  2. If I’m out shopping. My phone is in my purse when I’m out shopping, and usually stores are pretty loud so chances are I won’t hear the text beepy noise. And then I’m likely to forget to check my phone while in the act of shopping itself because I’m “in the zone.”
  3. If I’m genuinely pissed off at you or you’re being boring. This doesn’t happen very often (since the people who have my number are the people who I want to talk to), but if I don’t answer for a really long time then you should probably know that something is up.
Maybe I’m just neurotic about cellphones and communication, but I don’t really feel like I’m being unreasonable. If I text you, then I genuinely want to talk to you, so answer goddamnit, or I’m going to consider our friendship off!


Thursday, 10 January 2013

Window View


Some days I go feline; I do my makeup dark and smokey, I wear smooth textiles,  and I perch on the windowsill to watch the world go by. I'm not sure why I have this fascination with latently observing my neighbourhood, but just sitting and watching makes my day seem complete sometimes.

Nothing ever actually happens during my observatory periods, since I live in the most bourgeois of locations; people walk by with their dogs in hand, children break the silence with playful screams, and leaves drift along the cement.

When the drifting rain or the molting fog distorts the view an almost mysterly quality transforms the humble corner of Dublin & London, but sun breaks through again and blandness returns.

I don't know what I'm waiting and watching for, but until it happens my gaze will continue to be turned South.

Armani Exchange embedded sequin tunic, Vero Moda darkwash jeans, Ardene flower pin

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

The Start of Something New


2012 was one of the messiest years I’ve ever had, but it was also one of the most fun.

I got straight As for the first time since high school; not because I tried harder, but because my brain just connects with Dewey Decimal & cataloguing in a way that depressing American poets and European dictators can’t. I may have doubted my chosen path last year for a moment, but my mother was always right when she said that they should just give me a small third world country to organize.

I read more books this year than I have since I was homeschooled; not because I meant to, but because sometimes life is just like that. I chose to explore the magical worlds between the leather-bound covers rather than the city streets around me, because literature is where my home is, no matter how disconnected I feel with my current living situation.

I fell in and out of “like” 3 times this year; not because I wanted to fall in love, but because I decided to take the risk that I haven’t in a long time. My heart was never on the table (since it belongs to me, and I won’t ever give it away), but sometimes its nice to have new people to have adventures with. If nothing else, I remembered that everything is temporary and that the people who matter stay in my life for a reason.

2013 is going to be one for the record books, since my future has never been more undecided. Everything around me is telling me to take big risks, because the risks are what makes the outcome worth it, and for once I am absolutely going for it. 

Starships were meant to fly, and so shall I. 

image from Tumblr
[beautiful] words by Neil Gaiman