for the crowd

Neck Warmer Love
December 7, 2008, 4:02 pm
Filed under: Fashion | Tags: , , ,

One of my favourite looks, especially up here in dreary, cold Alberta, is swathing up the neck. You can look cute, glamourous, hip, stylish or endearingly homeless when you’ve wadded something around your neck – and it definitely draws attention to your face, peering out at the world.

This is really a look I cherish in late fall, once the cold hits, and throughout most of winter and early spring. Once the heat starts making its presence felt, I gravitate towards the flimsier silk handkerchiefs. But I am an Albertan, and winter is coming upon us (even though lately it’s been back and forth, temperature wise) and so I’ve been checking out opportunities to expand my current scarf collection which, to be honest, isn’t all that spectacular.

The main criminal towards my wallet right now is Etsy, which I love because everything on there is either genuine vintage or homemade, which makes it easier on my conscience but still makes my bank account cry a little, especially considering I’m budgeting myself this Christmas. Anyway, these styles are currently the apple of my eye, or however you want to say it!

Ondulato Neck Warmer/Capelet

Seriously, I LOVE THIS THING. Look at it! It’s so darling and old-fashioned and can be folded over and worn in a bunch of different ways. It’s like a mix between a sweet old grandmother’s house and a striking duchess from the late nineteenth century. Love it.

Night Sky Miniscarf

Can you imagine walking around town with this thing on? With your shoulders hunched up and your eyes staring out gloomily, perhaps with a cigarette blanaced between nicotine-stained fingertips. Ah, for the life of the artists who subsist solely on coffee and tobacco. I’ll never understand how and why they do it, but it sure looks cool.

Fuzzy Moss Neckwarmer

I love it, because this makes me think about mossy woodland fairies and, at the same time, the west coast (probably because of the sea-greeny colour). Honestly this thing looks so wonderful and comfy, and I think the button/clasp is a real seller – it looks like roughly carven wood, which, if you’ve ever been along the coast of British Columbia, you would probably like and appreciate due to the amount of driftwood-carving there.

Green and Pink Reversible Mohair Scarf

This thing is just damn cool, because for one thing it reverses and pulls apart into two scarves. Also, I’m a big fan of those colours – and, when muted, they’re wearable for practically anybody. I’d be hard-pressed to be able to incorporate this scarf into my winter wardrobe, though (it looks so fragile!), but it’s a beautiful piece nonetheless.

Ruffled Cream Neckwarmer

I did my best to find something white, to offset all the darker colours. The thing about white and winter is that it can be a total expletive to incorporate in a wardrobe, but at the same time it looks sooooo classy. White is just a bad colour for me personally, especially in winter here where it gets dangerously muddy, but there are some people who can pull this off and I salute them. And honestly, this neck warmer is freaking awesome-looking. It would look great underneath a big, dark wool coat.

gaspLa Resistance Neckwarmer/Scarf
(link NSFW – nudity)

Don’t you find it gets really chilly when you’re out and about, stickin’ it to the man by spreading or practising your art? I sure do! There’s nothing that says rebel like a weirdly patterned scarf in neutral, security-monitor-friendly colours. And better yet, you’ll be identifiable from a distance, which is great to spread the word if your peers see you getting dragged off by soldiers and trailing blood, but I guess not as great if you’re being targeted by a sniper. No but seriously, someone has to try and make me that scarf, because it looks awesome.

Mmmm j’adore. Of course I’ll probably just have to sit around and make do with my current scarves, because 1) let it never be said I am not grateful for what I’ve got! and 2) I need to save if I plan on going abroad this summer. Le sigh.


Edmonton Fashion Week – Fall 2008
September 6, 2008, 8:32 pm
Filed under: Fashion | Tags: ,

Bla bla bla, it’s about time I update this thing again. And what about? Fashion week, of course.

Ridiculously enough, my most popular post on this blog so far is apparently the post I made concerning Fashion Week for Spring 2008. This tells me two things: one, I should pay more attention this time around, and two, Trent Reznor isn’t as interesting to everyone else as I appear to think he is. Hmmmm. Food for thought.

Interestingly, this season Fashion Week is being held over two weeks, but on the more accessible days (Thursdays to Sundays). Last night was the Opening Gala. Unlike before, they were actually charging for admittance to the gala, which included a lot of good talent and a return of that redheaded guy named Martin who was kicked off of Canadian Idol early. There was also this incredibly sweet girl with a hoarse voice that performed that reminded me very strongly of Rachel Yamagata, whom I love. Despite that, though, the turnout was still pretty poor.

Apparently, as I and others were informed, there was a lot of hullabaloo (ie, some vague confusion) down in Winston Churchill Square, since people were showing up and, lo and behold, the runway was not set up. That’s because this season EFW has moved its location to the aviation hanger at 11410 KingswayAvenue (it’s super hard to miss… just drive down Kingsway, and park by the giant model airplane). Fortunately the organizers figured out they ought to put up signs in the square, which they were supposed to have done today. Obviously I am not there tonight so I can’t actually say whether or not it worked.

I was there for Thursday and Friday; Friday had a way better turnout, and on the whole I approved of the fashion lines but was sometimes concerned over the clothing’s wearability (I actually have the names of the designers somewhere, but am too lazy to try and find them… if you saw the current state of my room right now, you’d understand). I mean, thin shiny fabric is nice and all, but when you convert that into pants, all it does is create dozens and dozens of wrinkles all along the back of the legs, providing a nice ‘flabby leg forced into too-tight trousers’ illusion. Flattering? Not so much.

And what was the deal with dresses and pants being so tight there was no way you could have underwear on at the same time without a horrid case of VPL? And when the skirts are that short, I really want my nether regions covered in case I have to get out of a car. I suppose it’s great if you are attending the sort of buttoned-up event where everyone looks glamorous and stuff like undergarments is for the lowly, but that doesn’t explain how you can crawl out of your freaking Mercedes. Though, I suppose if I was that rich, I’d just have my accompanying man lift me out. What other use would I have for him? Besides sex, anyway.

Okay, so, that’s Fashion Week so far. I know you’re all thrilled to hear about it. I’ll be there next week as well, so I’ll probably talk about it then too. In the meantime, why don’t you check it out yourself? Tomorrow some friends of mine are going to be performing, and they’re a blast. So have at it, kids! Go. Be fashionable. Avoid flimsy tight shiny pants.

Searching for a New Stylist: Part 1
July 16, 2008, 9:14 pm
Filed under: Fashion, People | Tags: ,

I’m obsessed with my hair because… because my hair is freaking awesome. I love to go into the salon and give it a good chop or a little snip and change up my look. Actually, I’m amazed at so many people I know who won’t cut their hair because they’re convinced that they’re ugly and long hair is their only saving grace. I used to think that way, before I went in and chopped off the majority of my two-foot mane and transformed myself from unkempt bookworm to Ms. Sexy Sexerton. It works, people. Find a good stylist and go for it.

But unfortunately, I called the spa where I normally get my hair done today and found that my hair stylist has gone off, either quitting the business entirely or moving to a different company. My queries of “Where is she now?” were unanswered. I don’t have the time right now to track her down, so I had to result to picking another salon on the fly and going with that. Because hey, it’s never too early or late for a change.

I picked the place where I sometimes get my eyebrows done, and called in to book an appointment. What followed was one of the dumbest conversations I have ever had with a receptionist, ever. Maybe I was expecting too much, and admittedly I wasn’t too bright while on the phone either, but in my experience a good receptionist usually guides you along, and doesn’t wait for you to do her job for her. Hm.

Me: I’d like to book an appointment.
Her: Sure. What time? And what day?
Me: Well, tomorrow or Friday would be best.
Her: Tomorrow’s not Friday.
Me: Yes, I know. Tomorrow or Friday.
Her: Oh, ok! What time?
Me: It’ll have to be any time after six.
Her: Six?
Me: Preferably after.
Her: So like, seven?
Me: Sure.
[call waiting beeps]
Her: Oh, could you hold on?
Me: Yeah, sure.
[thirty seconds later]
Her: Thanks for holding!
[long pause as I wait for something more]
Me: … OK?
Her: So, around seven?
Me: Sure, if there’s anything open.
Her: Oh, well, you can come in tomorrow and we’ll be open.
Me: Ok?
Her: At seven?
Me: Oh, so I can just come in and you’ll accomodate me whenever?
Her: Well, we do do walk-ins, but it’s better if you were to make an appointment.
Me: … Um, could I make an appointment?
Her: Sure, what time?
Me: … seven.

So there you have it! I’m going in tomorrow (at seven, remember) and we’ll see how that goes. Hopefully my receptionist will not be the one cutting my hair. I’ll be sure to mention it in my next post if this is the case.

How I Am Now A Saloon Girl (or, holyshitIhaveacorset!!!1)
July 13, 2008, 10:06 pm
Filed under: Fashion | Tags: , , , , , ,

I’ve wanted a corset for awhile. Like, a long time. But I’ve especially wanted one since about October of 2006 when I first tried one on, properly, with a competent salesgirl who actually knew what she was selling to me. I figured that now was the time that I finally cave in and fork out a retarded amount of cash for a piece of satin and steel.

Now, I’m no longer what you’d call a Goth (oh, the horror!) but I still wanted a corset because

1) It does amazing things to your figure,
2) It’s versatile, able to be worn above and under clothing, for modern, kinky, or Victorian looks, and
3) It does amazing things to your figure.

First off, I wanted to be careful about who I bought my corset from. There are lots of places in Edmonton to pick up a corset, all of them ranging in quality and reputation. One of the more popular places to go is Sancutary, the “gothic curio” shop just off of Whyte Ave. There was no way in Hell I was going to go buy from there, though. Apart from one or two exceptions, the staff there aren’t exactly going to bend over to please you. They don’t want you in there unless you’re going to buy something – they detest window shoppers to the nth degree, becoming huffy when you try on clothes without purchasing them. When I walked in there and asked if it was possible that I could try on a corset, the girl shook her head and said “Only if you plan on buying one”. Wow! That’s great salesmen skills right there. Thanks, but no thanks. “Alternative” stores in Edmonton seem to go both ways – either they’re wonderfully sweet and friendly and helpful, or they’re downright pretentious.

So I chose Rowena’s, right on Whyte Ave, which is a store that has always been kind to me, ever since I was a wee ninth grader that wanted to be an elf. That, actually, was the store where I first properly tried on a corset. I went in there on Saturday last week to try on and fully intending to buy, but luck wasn’t with me that day – all of the corsets were too big for me, save for one that was just too damn small.

I resorted then to the stash of business cards on my desk and pulled out the one for Nightshade Corsets. I picked up their card near the beginning of the school year when I went to the Sex Tradeshow at the Agricom (and it was delightful, thanks! I bought my mother some Egyptian cotton sheets for cheap. “Hey, mom, I’m at the sex trade show.” “What’s that?!” “It’s like a trade show for sex, but I was wondering, would you like some egyptian cotton sheets?” “Ooh, yes please!”). I’d never gone to the store before, but I figured there was no time like the present. So yesterday I showed up with one of my friends in tow, and we started poking around.

I have to say, Nightshade Corsets has all similar stores beat, because the place was actually air-conditioned and didn’t smell of incense everywhere. It was comfortable to go up and down the narrow store inspecting the wares, because you weren’t sweating your ass off, and the atmosphere was pretty light since, strangely enough, the walls were white instead of maroon or black. So, I found the right store.

The second thing I wanted to be sure of was that I got the corset I wanted, and didn’t walk off with anything cheap or daringly overpriced. What I needed was something black, and plain – no frills or patterns, no bows or Chinese fabric. And I wanted the real deal, too, with steel boning and actual support, not just cheap plastic knockoffs that don’t do anything. The sales girl, who was one of those viciously thin women that pretty much look elegant all the time, asked me for my price range and I said somewhere in the realm of $200, and we were off.

I probably tried on about a dozen corsets, all in varying sizes and styles, trying to get the right fit and neckline for my body type. It’s possible to go in and have your body sized to get a custom made one, but I thought that would just be overkill – if there was a corset that fit me without all of that hassle, then great!

I ended up starting to try on some of the higher end corsets. I was laced into one that didn’t fit correctly, but that would give me the general idea of the difference between the three hundred and the two hundred corsets. I walked in front of the mirror and almost fell over. I was an hourglass. I was a particularly fetching liqueur bottle. I was a freaking saloon girl. I, like every other girl who has tried on a good corset, immediately felt like this:

Suffice it to say it was pretty sweet.

I grimaced at the price tag, but looked at my figure again. “It’ll be worth every penny,” my friend counselled. “You’ll never throw it away.” Ah, too true. I’ll probably still have it when I’m old and leathery and dribbling into my oatmeal. So of course, with a sigh, I bought it, but I haven’t regretted it.

So now I am armed with my brand new corset, and I am pleased. I rushed to show my parents, pulling it out with a smug look. My dad laughed and my mother shook her head and claimed she didn’t understand why I’d pay so much money for it, but I didn’t take her seriously because I get my spending habits from her, anyway. Besides, when I tried it on later last night, she had a demonic amount of fun lacing me up, even putting her knee to the small of my back and nearly breaking my ribs. Apparently she didn’t believe herself when she warned me that corsets were dangerous.

So anyway, if you’re in or around Edmonton, or wouldn’t mind the shipping, visit, or go straight to the source and hit up 108 ave and 124 Str. They’re stocked up to their eyeballs, and they know what they’re talking about. They also sell crotchless panties, but that’s another thing entirely. And no, I’m not being paid to tell you this. But I should be. Or at least get a free pair of fishnets for my troubles.

It’s Whitney, bitch!
May 15, 2008, 11:49 am
Filed under: Fashion, Movies and Shows, People | Tags: , ,

Don’t you love my new header? It’s Bai Ling. She’s been vectored. Ooooh. The very lovely person who made it for me (after I badgered her, of course) is guilting me to take back my previous comment. So. Do not screw Prince Caspian. You may see that instead of Speed Racer and you will not be judged. Because while one has Matthew Fox, the other has Ben Barnes, and of course you go to family-oriented movies just to sit in the dark and think dirty thoughts about the hot actors, and then immediately feel ashamed. That’s what all my friends and I do, anyway… or maybe that’s just me. So don’t screw Prince Caspian, I take that remark back (but it’s entirely up to you whether to want to screw Prince Caspian… you know, sans italics).

So anyway, onto more important(?) things.

It’s finally happened. America’s Next Top Model has an ass.

 mmm, hips!
(full picture: here)

For a moment, near the end of the episode, I thought the judges were going to pick Anya. Not that I have anything against Anya – I loved her, she was adorable. But I wanted Whitney. Maybe it was infuriating because Tyra, definitely not a size zero, was still heading a competition where only bony, skinny girls were picked. Maybe, even though everyone talked about changing the standards of beauty, no one was actually doing anything.

I didn’t really expect them to pick Whitney. Hell, I thought they’d boot her once she reached the top three so that the judges wouldn’t be forced to pick the skinny over the booty. Unlike all the other plus-sized models the show has had, Whitney didn’t fall apart and talk about going on a diet or feel bad about herself. Instead she was a complete bitch (heeheehee) and kept a thick skin. She just did her own thing, and look – she made it.

Let’s face it, America’s Next Top Model isn’t award-winning television, and I pretty much watch it and am very aware I’m not being intellectually stimulated, but it’s nice to just watch trash tv and not have to think. It’s especially nice to see the trash tv actually doing something constructive, too.

I guess the real test will be to see whether Whitney stays the way she is, physically and mentally. Don’t go all skinny on us, Whitney. And stop letting them put corsets and cinchers on you, christ.

this photo makes kurt cobain cry, wherever he is
(full picture: here)

Edmonton Fashion Week – Spring 2008
May 2, 2008, 9:37 pm
Filed under: Fashion | Tags:

Yes, apparently Edmonton has a fashion week!

I offered to volunteer, because I’m just so amazingly awesome like that. Fashion week ran from April 24th to the 30th, and I picked up five shifts in four days because God knew I had nothing better to do (now that university is over and I haven’t gotten a job yet, my life has creaked to a standstill). It baffled some people when they asked me about volunteering, especially when it turned out I had very little knowledge of the event, and wasn’t told about the opportunities through a school program – I just had an interest in fashion and checked out the website. Apparently this is a very odd way of going about things. But there you have it.

The super weird thing was that I would run into people that were somehow connected to me. The first night I was scheduled to work with this tall, thin blonde girl who asked me where I’d gone to school after a few minutes of conversation. I looked at her and realised we’d gone to the same elementary and junior high school, me being a grade higher than she was. It was vaguely mortifying.

Additionally, one of the drag queens presenting a fashion line happened to be the crossdressing cheerleader I was drunkenly grinding with on Halloween night. And the Vibe Tribe? They’re a group of tribal dancing, hula hooping, poi swinging nutcases with amazing skill who performed at the gala, and the girl who lit her poi on fire happened to be the girl I met in a night club through a friend of mine, mid-March.

Anyway, weird coincidences aside, I had fun, even though everything ran late (normal for fashion shows, of course) and the organization of the event was a complete mess. Apparently, the huge snowfall days before had delayed everything. I also suffered my own amount of physicial discomfort when I lost all feeling in my feet after tending the outdoor information booth and making friends with the disgruntled vendors (who had been promised heaters, yet were slowly freezing to death). I snacked repetitively on granola and fruit I thoughtfully stashed in my purse, and didn’t wonder why I wasn’t up there on the catwalk, since my ability to eat was obviously barring me from the glamour of stumbling half-naked down the stage in nightmarish lingerie.

Not all the models were stick thin – depending on the designers, body types went in all directions when it came to models. It was sad, though, when the girls slumped out from behind the curtain. When you’re a girl and wear heels, you can look at another girl walking and figure out if they are in physical pain, aren’t used to the shoes/breaking in a new pair, or are simply incapable of walking with the added height. Seeing models make their dreary and unexciting way down the catwalk with their rounded shoulders and heels clomping in a very unsexy manner (heels are there to boost sexiness, people!) was just a huge disappointment, because it was obvious they couldn’t walk and didn’t care. No attitude, no pomp, the sort of thing that makes clothing fun. I wanted to leap up and shout “Come on, girls – You’re in a fashion show! Smile!”

Also, as my co-bartender on Wednesday night remarked, “They all look super pissed off. I don’t get it.” Hmmm. Happiness: never in fashion, apparently.

Tomorrow is the sample sale, which I am so totally going to so that I may get my grasping, eager hands on a slip dress or similar for a fraction of the normal price. I’m a girl that loves a bargain. And slip dresses. Mmm, materialism.