I Don't Wake Up Looking Like This...

... I actually need stuff to look like this. Specifically, a plan.

Mornings are always busy. Wake up, breakfast, pack lunch, check email, etc, etc, etc, so unless you have a completely streamlined wardrobe where everything conveniently goes together, it takes time to look fabulous every morning. Clearly I do not have a convenience wardrobe. There are pairs of shoes that only coordinate with a single dress. And dresses that have to be worn with specific undergarments. Which in turn always manage to be in the wash just when I need them.

So my solution to manage my (slightly ridiculous) wardrobe and ensure my continuing fabulousness (or at the very least to avoid wearing an accidentally stained shirt in public) is to plan my outfit the night before. This started out as a way of having time to match my shoes to my outfits in 3rd year University (living on campus is super convenient for wearing heels to class), since pre-8:30 lecture is not a good time to try and find an outfit.

Clearly I was never one of those students who wore sweatpants, Lululemons, or (goddess forbid) pajamas to class. Hello, I have a reputation to maintain.

Even though I don't need to run to class at the break of dawn anymore I find it really soothing to check the weather forecast and plan an outfit for the next morning. I find I'm more creative in the evening anyways, so this way I have more time in the a.m. to eat a real breakfast (or have a second cup of coffee) and be able to wake up properly before starting my day. Because, trust me, I have to spend my mental energy on projects at work and on getting my 101-item To Do list completed every day.

sandals by MTNY, tank tops by Suzy Shier and Tricotto, pants by DCS, hat by Le Chateau, jewelry by Ardene. 

Working Girl

 

So I’m two days late writing/posting this post…

Such is life right now! Being a working girl while trying to find a job for September is a lot of effort. Especially when I refuse to give up things like sleep, real food, and downtime.

Thankfully I’ve (mostly) streamlined my life, so I have time for all that stuff, plus all the things that I need to do to get another job. Like not burning out or snapping at the current boss, and putting in the time to keep track of and applying to the million upcoming jobs.

What I’ve been letting slide lately is my style. I plan out my outfits the night before, but when my energy is focused on writing and eating I don’t always have the energy to put together perfectly accessorized ensembles that take any kind of risks. But I’m getting kind of tired of jeans and shirts, and my brand new hat (isn’t it fabulous) is pretty inspiring, so this week I’m rededicating my life to taking style risks and being extra fabulous!

image from Tumblr

And that's why my lunch is peanutbutter chocolate chip cookies…

Le Chateau hat, THX Collection shirt, Moto jeans. 

Spaceships in the Sky

In 1965 the first gondola lift in British Columbia was installed on Whistler Mountain, carrying skiers from the Creekside base to the powder-covered hills. For the next 35 years the aluminum-plated capsules would be a staple for destination skiers and locals alike until their replacement with more modern (read – larger) counterparts. The Creekside Gondola Barn may have been demolished and the base remodelled, but the original gondolas did not disappear. Many were purchased by Whistler locals, and now reside in backyards around the Whistler neighbourhoods, and I’m sure that some disappeared to the metal recycling yards, but one was saved by the Whistler Museum and Archives Society.

For many years the Gondola has had a place of honour on the roof of the Museum building – a shining beacon of Whistler’s colourful history if you will – but recently a decision was made to remove the Gondola from its place of honour and bring it indoors. The Museum is slated to construct an exhibit which includes the Gondola to open this Fall, but before the artifact is considered “tourist friendly” – it will be a hands-on exhibit – some restoration work had to be done.

The task of removing the “grime of the ages” from the Gondola fell to the resident archivist, myself, and the other collections summer student. For those of you who think that working an archive or museum is a cakewalk, I’m sorry to disillusion you, but this was filthy dirty work that took a large amount of determination.

You’ve all cleaned cars right? Well, the Gondola is no car. We couldn’t use a powerwasher, or abrasive brushes, or chemical solvents because they don’t qualify under the archival best standards. Fun fact: did you know that a baking soda solution can be used to remove gunk from almost anything? Except aluminum, since it attacks the protective oxide layer that coats raw aluminum. So we went at it with a solution of vinegar and water (bio-friendly cleaning products for the win!), toothbrushes, and brillo pads.

Cut to four days – and much whinging – later, and the Gondola is finished. It may not be in brand-new condition, but it looks infinitely better than it did before. In fact, some might even say it shines!

The Sunday Crossword: a Sunday Shoe Story

I may love my job, but sometimes there's nothing better than coming home on Sunday Night (which is my Friday night) and sitting down to do the crossword. Not the New York Times Sunday crossword though, just the one from the local paper. After all, it's been a long week.

Keds "Cuo" runners, River Island tights, crossword from the Pique

Confessions of a Sock Monkey

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, I received a package in the mail. I had received many before it, but what made this one special was that it was the first that I had received after I moved away from home. It felt wonderfully grown-up to go to the post office and know that I had a post address all my own. Many may have had this address before me, but for the next six months it was all mine. 

After I brought my parcel home from the post office I noticed something strange. The parcel was address to me from my dog. 

And it seemed to be shaking ever so slightly. 

short my Joe Fresh, pants by Dynamite, vintage necklaces, Sock Monkey from Shoppers Drugmart

Wolfpack of One

 I’ve been having a lot of conversations with people in the last few weeks that seem to revolve around one topic: the fact that I don’t do anything that “normal” Whistler people do, and it therefore must be hard to meet people.

Well, excuuuuuuse me for not being a social butterfly and Miss Popularity!

What everyone seems to have missed in their assessment of me and my lifestyle is that I like my life. I like the things that I do. I like the small amount of social interaction that I have.

And mostly importantly: I do in fact have a wolfpack. My wolfpack is just scattered across a province and a country, so I can’t fill my weekends with highjinx and escapades because they aren’t physically in the same place as I am. This is the inevitable result of moving twice for school, and then away again for work. It was never my intention in the first place to stay in the same small town and eek out a living working the same shitty job, when I have the opportunity to go to school in other cities and other provinces, and to experience a lifestyle that isn’t lodged in the valley that I was raised in. I wanted to move away, and so I did, which inevitably meant leaving my wolfpack behind. Some of them moved away as well, but some of them still hold their wolfpack membership cards.

Most people would have made a new wolfpack in every city that they lived in, but I haven’t done that. I don’t really like putting down roots until I know I’m going to stay for a while, and when I am sure I do initiate new members. Sometimes the initiation has been the other way around, and I’ve become absorbed into an already formed pack of wildwomen, but when I move away again I tend to only keep a few choice members as part of my personal pack.

But since I’ve adopted the transient lifestyle it seems like my wolfpack is down to one. Companions and run-alongs may come and go, but I am the one person who I can’t live without. And I’m totally fine with that.

Afterall, when I need someone to run with, I just raise my head to the full moon and I can hear the answer of my pack-members no matter how far away they are. A-woooooooooo!

images from Tumblr

Summer Lovin'

"Mod" sandals by Bamboo

Summer and I have an off and on relationship; sometimes I like the heat, but most of the time I find it unbearable. Sounds like my dating life, hey? Summer might be playing hard to get at the moment, and my brain might be saying that I want it, but I’ve subconsciously been putting into place coping mechanisms for when summer starts acting like the one night stand who turns into a stalker.

1. Air conditioning at the workplace. Whether it’s finding a workplace that has a flexible dress code, or just  good ventilation system this is a must. It takes cash to run our lives, and having to sweat it out to make a measly $8 an hour. Even if the job isn’t great, you’ll feel like you’re making a lot more than minimum wage if your benefits package comes with some A/C.
2. Shady beach spots. Spending time at the beach is great, but what happens after hour 3? Our frappucino is gone, the cooler has melted, and a dip in the lake only works until you get back to your towel. Staking out a place where a seat can be quickly shifted to the shade prevents longterm crankiness as well as sunburns!
3. Northfacing rooms. You might curse them during the winter for their lack of natural light, but in the summer they become a godsend.
4.  Find the nearest library. They always have the best airconditioning, and you can pick up something to read and get free wifi while you’re avoiding the heat!
5. Learn how to ice your coffee. Frappucino runs can eat up to a lot of your $8-an-hour-paycheque, and a big red tub of Folgers only costs $7.99. Total no brainer.
6.  Invest in a big hat. Just make sure it’s a good one, or you’ll look more like the Queen than Samantha Jones. Channeling the royal ‘tude is great, but not with a stylist like that!
7.  Ice water on your wrists and ankles. This is something that I learned when I worked at Wendy’s (shameful, I know) and had to slave over deep fryers all day, and it saved my bacon more than once. The wrists and ankles are natural pressure points for temperature control, so cooling them down will cool down everything else. You might not believe me now, but give it try. Not only will you be super-chill in seconds, but you’ll also feel smarter knowing that you outsmarted the weather. 

image from Shopping Savage

Addiction

Mocha cookie crumble frappucinos

thrifting

triple chocolate orgasm cookies

books

galoshmazoning

boys

glitter

Friday nights in

my iPhone

Tumblr

Mercedes-Benz

Photoshop

Georgia Nicholson

puppies

Neil Gaiman

shoes

vintage designer purses

Won't Go Quietly

Girls with Slingshots

sarcasm

libraries

Sherlock Holmes

What's your addiction?

* platform sandals by Aldo, clutchpurse by Rachael, blouse by Cleo, shorts by Volcom, vintage necklace

Flawed

image from Tumblr

A very wise man once said that flaws are the best part of people; two people with flaws can come together and make eachother stronger.

Another very wise man once said that we’re all a little weird, but when we find someone who’s weirdness is compatible with ours we call it love.

Sorry to burst your bubbles Dr. Seuss & Aiden Shaw, but sometimes the flaws are also what keeps us apart. Flaws may make for finding your BFF-soulmate, but when it comes to the opposite sex it gets a whole lot more complicated. Do we have unreasonably high expectations for boyfriends, or is it just simply easier to find platonic mutual weirdness?

Let’s explore a few scenarios and see what the outcome is in the best friend vs (ex)boyfriend battle.

Shoes (as in an obsession with): Best friend loves it, encourages it, and it’s a friendly competition of who has more and who got the best deal. Ex-boyfriends can’t handle the marathon shopping trips, say I have an addiction, and think it’s a waste of money. Pretty obvious who the winner is there.

Being a bitch (as in all the time): Best friend finds it amusing, loves sarcasm as much as I do, and understands that I criticise because I care. Ex-boyfriends think it’s annoying, don’t always understand sarcasm, and think I’m nitpicking and criticizing for real. Maybe it’s a difference in tone or a gender communication thing, but this issue is always a big flaw in romantic relationships, and generally isn’t when it comes to my girls.

Pickles (as in I hate them): Best friend doesn’t care what I don’t eat, yet ex-boyfriends are constantly trying to change my mind. Maybe I just go out with guys who are bossy when it comes to food, but it’s always seemed kind of weird that they uniformly have issues with what I eat. Is there some sort of hidden relationship rule that I’m missing that goes “thou shalt eat of the same foodstuffs as thy partner – and nothing else,” because I can’t see any other reason why guys seem to get so worked up about food specifics. Shouldn’t they be happy when I offer them the pickle off my burger like I do with my best friend? In fact, I would trade them for lettuce or tomatoe (because that’s what the BFF procedure is)!

Clearly we have a double standard situation going on, even though there’s really no reason for it. Something is clearly different in how we treat our best friends and our boyfriends, and maybe it’s just as simple as we don’t have the same expectations for female and male companionship, but why does it seem easier to overlook and accept the flaws of our best friends? I personally invest as much emotionally (though clearly not physically) in my female friendships as I do with boyfriends, yet I have no issue writing over the fact that some of them have cheated in the past yet I still trust them implicitly, while exboyfriends who cheat will never again be in the running. Maybe I’ve just been lucky to find girlfriends who are the same type of weird as I am, and have to keep looking for the boy who supports my multiple personalities – afterall, I did run through quite a few exfriends before I found the perfect BFFs.