In praise of ritual…

Vogue & brie topped blueberries for breakfast

Indulge yourself! Create a ritual around your favourites. On my latest trip back East, these three ingredients made my mornings magical: a bowl full of blueberries, a huge hunk of  brie cheese, and one mammoth September Vogue. Although I’m sure Anna Wintour would smack me upside the head for the size of that piece a’ cheese, I’ve always believed in maximizing the moment. Who says we can’t have it all! Well, at least on vacation~wink.

Bonus Link: Looking for something to wet your appetite? Try Calgary Fashion’s in-depth review of The September Issue

Into the future – one celebrity purse auction at a time!

How often do you see a well built man in his underwear lay down his purse, ever so gently, and hit the floor for a vigorous set of clap pushups? Want to get in on the action? And find out why my husband wasn’t worried? My article about the YWCA of Calgary’s first annual Open Your Purse event is now up at Calgary Fashion – The Fashion Media Collective.

Dear readers, I recently wrote about a momentous life choice. It’s incredible what can happen when you risk a front-row-center chance on your dreams. Ending up, literally, front row center is just the beginning…

One quaint little sentence proves our culture has gone completely off the rails…

“We know plenty of women and men that would wear a $3 million dollar diamond covered bra even if it made them bleed!”

- Perez Hilton www.cocoperez.com

Somewhere out there a Vogue editor is crying…

I woke up to winter in Calgary today. Sure, there were heaps of snow on the ground yesterday, and the bow river was slate grey and seething, but there was still something missing. The season change became official at 7am this morning, when Mother Nature overheard me trying to describe my outfit over the phone:

“Um, ok, so picture me as a Christmas elf at the mall, but all they could find for me was some old man’s wrinkled elf costume from who knows when. Oh, and my lumberjack socks are pulled up over my pants, almost to my knees.”

I’d like to say I went straight back to my room to change, but I didn’t. I tied on my damp sneakers (boots are for sissies, not real Canadians) and trudged out into the wilderness. When the weather works its way this deep into your bones, this early, there’s not a whole lot you can do. Except maybe, and I suppose I’m right on time here, channel it for Halloween?

DIY Summer Fashion Series: imagine/sketch/create (part two) – Studies for a blue jersey dress

Cymbria Fashion Sketches - Studies for a blue jersey dress to wear on a romantic dinner in Banff, Alberta

Like to take a peek at part one?

Not so different after all…

North Americans are the biggest hypocrites! We Canadians readily submit ourselves to a meteorological climate so hostile that merely revealing an ear to the world can lead to permanent injury.  The picture on the left was taken this morning, on May 20th. MAY! Here I am, bundled to the hilt, in a society that would happily let me skip around in little more than a couple of spandex triangles.

How dare we judge our sisters, whose own climate, albeit cultural, dictates an identical costume. Her and I are both madly in love with our countries and our families; why shouldn’t we dress for the best chance of success and acceptance in both. What is freedom? Do I really have the freedom to run through the snow in a bikini? Can my personal choice to expose my body to frostbite ever be comparable to the cultural reprimand one of my sisters might face if she rebelled in similar fashion?

Hmmm.

 (hijab image source)

Introducing Lou Lou de Milo!

A mud spattered white pickup pulls up to the curb. The driver leans over and rolls open the passenger window. He calls out to me on the sidewalk. “Hey, I’ve got a dead body in the bed of my truck here. Want it?”

“Sure do!” I say, without a second’s hesitation.

He jumps out and races round to the back of his truck. We’re doing this in public, at a downtown intersection. The handoff has got to be quick. I pass him a couple of folded bills. He lifts the torso, hidden under a dark green garbage bag, off the bed and places her gently in my arms.

“She’s lighter than I thought,” I say.

“Ya I know,” says the man. “My wife says she’s in good shape.”

I stand her up beside me, cloaked in her garbage bag, for the elevator ride back up to my office. The businessman beside me looks bemused.

“Any guesses?” I ask. Only her metal support pole and four legged base are clear of the bag.

“Hmmmm, a mannequin?”

“How did you know?” I ask.

He points at two small rises in the plastic. “I can see the breasts.”

Sigh. Men.

*************************************
I found Lou Lou on Kiijii. I’ve wanted a dress form for years, but it’s never been the right time, place, or price – until now. How did I name her? I couldn’t resist the “de Milo”, taken from the legendary Venus de Milo sculpture. The Lou Lou is in honour of Loulou de la Falaise, Yves Saint Laurent’s Parisian muse. She collaborated, inspired, and supported him in his atelier from 1972 though to his retirement in 2002.

Just days before the “dead body” incident, I stumbled upon the most amazing movie while channel surfing. It was a quiet, intimate documentary that took fashion lovers behind the scenes of YSL’s spring/summer 2001 collection. Loulou was always by Saint Laurent’s side, draping models with bolts of gorgeous soft silk florals, daring her mentor to stretch his creativity. I can only hope my Lou Lou will do the same for me.

DIY Summer Fashion Series: imagine/sketch/create (part one)

An idea takes form

out of a swirl of fabric

and a page of gemstones

Imagine a dress of

the lightest fabric

weighted by secret

flashes of bright stone

imagine/sketch/create

Click here for part 2!

Gladiator sandal trend could have shortened Iraq war

Ah yes, my ears are still ringing with the roar of the arena. Russell Crowe, circa 2000 AD, muscles bulging under sweat oiled brown skin, soaks the hot sand of the Colosseum with the blood of his enemies. Sure, we all wanted a piece of him (oops, I mean of the action), but was anyone really thinking “ooooo I’d love a pair of those sandals. What delightful footwear, so stylish and eminently practical.”? While it’s true that the gladiator sandal is the go-to shoe when it comes to protecting your shins from those pesky 5th Avenue gladius weilding dog walkers, Mondrian themed tan lines are not the best way to accessorise your vintage Yves Saint Laurent.

The gladiator sandal trend has followed the classic pattern. Just like when learning a brand new word, the trend always looks awkward and ungainly the first few times you see it in action. But then it slowly worms its way into your vocabulary, and before you know it, you start seeing sentences (and short black jersey dresses) that just wouldn’t look right with anything else. 

For those of us in the “know”, the gladiator has already begun to look (how do I put this?) “un peut passé”. It’s time to move on to other synonyms. It’s time to get in tight with its relatives. It’s time to stop messing around with these metaphors and get down to business.

So then what do we put on our feet? You can go with a more subtle version of the trend, or my favorite alternative: flat (or slight wedge) heel, and a non-superfluous system of dark leather straps featuring a bronze embellished T-strap and a single ankle strap (set low on the ankle to visually maximize leg length). I’d link to a pair, but I’m still hunting for them ; )  

The best part of the gladiator trend is its irony. Thousands of New York (and millions of american)fashionistas have wholeheartedly embraced a trend with decidedly middle eastern roots. The saying “to understand someone, walk a mile in their shoes” has never been more apropo. But it’s too late for the one pair of feet that really matter. If Hillary was still in the race, America might have a chance. Cultural understanding starts from the ground up (heehee possibly literally in this case). But something tells me Barack wouldn’t be too gung-ho about strapping his calves into these puppies. Someone should remind him, or Mccain (if that’s how it pans out), that the greatest warriors in history were, like, so, all over the gladiator trend in their day. The Coloseum’s arena was oval wasn’t it *wink*

(comic source: fashionista.com)

“Heather’s Hermes bag sits on a Consuelo Castiglioni rug…” – Harper’s Bazaar

The lives of the mega rich are so very different from our own. Privileged women like ”Heather”, who thoughtfully married two rich men (consecutively, though concurrently would have been far more efficient) don’t even have closets. All new clothing/accessories acquisitions go straight into: “Heather’s meticulously organized wardrobe area” – Harper’s Bazaar