The Prairies

Visiting Ontario's countryside brings back childhood memories of when I use to flip through all 7 channels of our bunny eared APEX television box only to stumble upon Little House on the Prairies. The series ran almost always, it was a good break away from the usual round about Scarborough's downtown central (i.e. STC or Home Depot). Even with the series being a perfect escape from reality, I generally couldn't see eye to eye with the facon de vivre of the show. Mind you at 8 or 9 years old I believed Scarborough to be the best place ever established. Yeah, really. 

 

On the prairies there is a family named the Ingalls. They live on a large farm estate in Walnut Grove, Minessota. I couldn't wrap my head around why they pick such an inconvenient and isolated homestead. If a robber breaks into their house, they cannot run into the streets to ask night walkers for help. They do not have the option to see 5 dollar movies at Morningside and 401's Cineplex Odeon on Tuesdays. Most importantly they cannot part take in  "Which is it, firecrackers or gunshots?", a game we use to revert to if our antenna wasn't reciprocating a clear connection.

 

I felt bad for the Ingall family, really.

 

Horses were used as their only means of transportation as TTC buses are most popular among Scarborough folk. Deprived from black tinted cars with blaring stereos and thumping basses, subtle ambulance and cop sirens in the near distance, crowds gathered outside McDonald's patio passed midnight, even kids and their rap music. The Ingalls are missing out on all the fun. All you folks must be thinking "Girl chu crazy, Scarborough is deadly and emits danger danger!". It really doesn't. You have to learn a thing or two about Scarborough, it may be rough around the edges, it may show a cold and tough exterior but it is only to shield their soft and warm interior. Yes.  

Why I have my hand cupped on my thigh is unknown to me as it is to you.

Knit- Target

Skirt- London Fog

Heels- Nine West

The Grit

A mother with impeccable style really means hitting the jackpot. When she holds on to almost all of these possessions from her youth, it just goes to show that you are plained spoiled. No need to purchase what are in stores when you've had almost everything, only a better version of things today, before you were even a twinkle in your mother's eye. I believe some of my most dearest possessions today are passed down from my mother, who once enjoyed grooving in flared corduroy overalls, entire white outfits and dramatic sequin shirts with matching shoes. My oh my she is a crazy stylish lady. Even to this day she purchases items like a grey calf length wool skirt in which I desperately and immediately need to have in my overflowing mad man closet. 

When I see foreign clothing items from my mother or siblings or people on the street, my pupils dilate and my arms go numb. I do what I can to get my hands on it. Literally. Should I consider seeking some professional psychological help? Or will I have to wait until I do something ludicrous to city folk like chase them down the street with bills or coins (however I choose to pay) until they hand over the shoes they're occupying. I'll say it again, fashion is my weakness. Where some people crave and are deeply drawn to drugs and/or alcohol, I go bananas for clothing that can easily join the family in my closet. Okay, let's re-phase. I treat every single clothing item like they were my very own children. That's better.

From your point of you I may appear delirious and superficial, but it is much more than that I think. I treat fashion and clothing as an outlet. Where some people express themselves through writing, photography, or parody, I like to do all of the above. On a personal level fashion is a strong and influential means of expression. Or better still it can simply be something that needs no meaning or thinking at all, that is when it becomes real and meaningful.

Enjoy your weekend friends.  

Shirt- Mother's from an unknown boutique in Toronto

Skirt- JW Anderson for Topshop

Shoes- Zara

Mom for the day

I can name a handful of elements that are off or more so wrong with this photo. Where should I begin? For starters my hair accidentally segregates into two sides creating what is commonly known as a middle part - where I very closely resemble the demon child from About A Boy. You know which boy I'm referring to, right? The boy who unknowingly sings and dances to mystikal's  "Shake yo ass" through his school hallways? 

Secondly I look like a mother from the 80's embodying the hip of all hipness as I sport the varsity jacket, turtle neck and magenta sneakers. Oh and the most important recipe of it all, the high "gunty" mom jeans. My attempt to assume the role of a cool mom somehow backfires as I hopelessly end up looking like a mom embarrassed to be seen with her children. Yes, as a matter of fact I did look in the mirror before leaving my house. 

My third point somewhat ties into my second proclamation, a revitalization to the camel toe (with only a slight connection to: The Camel Toes seen here). Though it appears not to be a full fledge camel toe, more so a novice youngster studying the art of camels and such. 

I'll tie in the remainder within this last statement as I'm fully having WAY too much fun indulging in my own criticisms (if you can't laugh at yourself what can you do, really?). I'm a safe distance away but if you were to zoom closely into my face, you'd noticeably witness lipstick smudges around the Perimeter of my lips. As I commonly brag aboUt my List of favorite crazy homeless people of the downtown core, you can rest assure I'm probably on someones list now if I wasn't before. That is all today folks.

Varsity Jacket- Vintage

Turtle Neck- Unknown

Jeans- Guess

Shoes- Unknown

Give me an "L"

The one thing I simultaneously love and hate about smoggy summer days are the substantial and necessary sacrifices in my wardrobe when considering summer wear. These alterations are critical as the blazing heat is no joking matter, peoples lives that are on the line here. Normally I stubbornly negate the existence of summer entirely as I dress in fall mode all year around. Though I have to point out I am maturing and coming to my senses as I'm gradually distinguishing between summer and fall what to and what not to do. With this realization I've draught down some guidelines I personally try to follow. Hopefully you have already done so- if that is the case don't judge me please.

1) Leather is a no no. On numerous occasions last year it seemed crucial to wear leather pants/shorts and a turtle neck. At the time I felt on top of the world as if I were Michael himself- big mistake (Not you Michael, me). I paid for it later on that day as I clearly recall hyperventilating on the subway due to various worrisome episodes of dehydration.

2) Wool is also a red flag. It is crucial to keep the materials light and breathable. Keep business strictly linen and cotton. Though I will turn my cheek if you consider rebelling as I'm breaking my own rule down below but keep in mind my wool is holey. Just make sure you're able to strip into a light t-shirt if you feel a hot burning sensation around your body. This is another common mistake I seem to make. There were some incidents where well let's just say I wanted to take off my big bulky sweater and, well you know. All I can say is I'm thankful I bra-ed it up that day.

3) The luxury of summer consists of wearing shorts and skirts, items that are disabled to the other 8 months in the year. Take advantage of the sun and bring some colour to  my  your pale legs. As you can plainly see my legs are nearly ghost white meaning I ungratefully neglect the sun's good doings. I know most of you ONLY enjoy wearing shorts and skirts but this point is mainly directed to remind stubborn fall folk like myself that it is okay to show some skin.  

I guess my work here is finished. You're welcome. Just kidding friend but serious, you're welcome.

As you can see I treat smoggy days as no joking matter, clearly.

Knit- Club Monaco

Skirt- Vintage

Shoes- From Guilin