This past Sunday night I had the immense pleasure of interviewing Dr. Valerie Raoul on the Storytelling Show, the radio programme I host on Vancouver Cooperative Radio.
Short of interviewing Penny from Inspector Gadget, this is pretty much the closest I am going to get to being on air with my feminist hero of life.
Spending an hour chatting with her on the radio?
AWESOME.
If you are interested in listening to the interview, it can be found here.
(Just be sure to click March 31, 2013.)
This weekend has been an absolute whirlwind – last long training runs (for the Sunshine Coast half-marathon next Sunday); Easter feasts; tennis games; park workouts; awful movies; stand-up shows; and theme (house) parties.
And looking forward to this week, we’re just going to do it all again!
So yesterday on Facebook I was tagged in a friend’s post that began, “Calling all my fashion-forward friends…”
Wait, what the – ?
I nearly fell off my chesterfield.
ME!? Fashion-forward!?
How utterly dumbfounding, and, if I’m going to be quite honest, pleasantly flattering.
It’s not that I don’t think of myself as “fashionable” (I think I have the capacity to rock an outfit every now and then), it’s just to be singled out as such gave me pause. I couldn’t help but wonder – how much of my identity, or self-perception to I take from my outward appearance, and the clothing with which I decorate my body?
And then I thought – AM I OVER-THINKING THIS WHOLE THING?
And I thought, “YES. YES I AM.”
Cool your jets there Judith Butler.
I then opened my laptop and what would you know? The brilliant, beautiful, amazing, and totally fashion-fabulous Laura from As Time Goes Buy had tagged me in a wonderful post she had written about her sartorial and shopping preferences, and I thought – THIS MUST BE A SIGN.
I WILL NOW GO AND BUY ALL THE CLOTHES.
(Don’t tell my husband.)
But before I leave the house to go bankrupt myself at Club Monaco, I will first answer a series of questions, because as a professional question answerer, that is what I do.*
*A girl can dream, can’t she?
Would you consider yourself a shopoholic?
I would not. I would however consider myself a try-it-on-aholic.
I am one of those rare weirdos who LOVES trying on clothes – of ALL kinds. I don’t care if it’s wackier than a three dollar bill, I will shimmy into that velour onsie and then pee myself laughing at my reflection.
As much as I get a kick out of modeling totally nutty clothing,my true favourite thing to try on is a beautiful dress. Sometimes it busts my heart into ten thousand little pieces knowing that I cannot bring every frock home with me, but alas, that is just the price that I have to pay when playing these dressing-room games.
How would you classify your style?
A real mixed bag. I love incredibly feminine pieces (see: my love of dresses), but I also love wearing suits with ties, men’s pants, and my husband’s cardigans.
I also (mostly) subscribe to the fashion philosophy that says if I am showing off my legs, I’ll probably cover up my top half, and vice versa.
Of course, I’m also one for breaking the rules.
Otherwise, the beach would be exhausting.
What store can you NOT leave without buying something?
Hmmm, tough question.
I would say Joe Fresh.
Mr. Fresh and I are VERY close.
Also Dairy Queen, but that is for completely different reasons.
Where do you find the best deals?
Hands down, Joe Fresh and H&M. I’ve scored some amazing deals at both of these stores, and I would say that the majority of the clothes currently populating my wardrobe were purchased from these fashion emporiums.
I also do well at Forever XXI, and Club Monaco (but only from the sales rack, for the latter, unfortunately.)
What designer are you willing to splurge on?
I would say it’s less of a designer, and more certain pieces. For instance, I paid good money for my Fidelity jeans, and four years later people are still asking me if they are brand new. I also bought Timberland boots three winters ago and they are amazing and keep me sane through the coldest of months.
If I could actually buy any designer wares, I would be all over Marc Jacobs and Miu Miu.
All over them like a bad rash.
Do you have a “go to” shopping outfit?
In the summer – an easy, breezy, beautiful sundress.
In the fall – jeans, a t-shirt, and thick cardigan.
In the winter – thick tights, a short skirt, a warm sweater, and good boots.
In the spring – long dress, light sweater, and a trench coat.
What is your “guilty pleasure”? (not including clothes)
[CENSORED]
Hahahaha!
Hmmm, I’m not sure. Maybe my ever-growing lipstick collection?
And 7/11 apple fritters.
THEY ARE SO GOOD.
What is one piece of clothing you can’t live without?
This is so tough!
My fashionista answer? A really great pair of jeans.
My real-life answer? My running shoes.
Who is your style icon?
This is also a terrifically hard question.
I’m really not sure.
I absolutely love Jenna Lyons – JCrew’s president and official fashion badass. She mixes feminine and masculine looks so well, and always looks absolutely immaculate.
Carey Mulligan is also fabulous, and I also really, really want to be her friend.
Hopefully after this happens she will lend me much of her wardrobe.
Because stealing from her is going to be bloody hard.
…
So there you have it! My fashion sense in a nutshell.
Thanks to the lovely Laura for tagging me – do check out her site. You will be inspired.
And I also encourage all of you to share – what makes your wardrobe tick?
This is not news to veteran readers of Rant and Roll.
But for all you newbies (WELCOME MY LOVES!) please let this post serve as a wee introduction to this little creature who takes up major real estate within the confines of my heart.
We adopted the little miss in February of 2008.
This was after five years of constant badgering on my part, to my brilliant (though long-suffering) partner Marc.
Writer’s note: Marc is now my brilliant (and longer-suffering) husband.
Seriously, I was unrelenting in vocalizing my desire to adopt a pet.
The first animal for whom I had ever before cared was a grey and white kitty named Sophie (named after the famed Sophie’s Cosmic Café here in Vancouver) who ruled my family’s roost for a number of years before she succumbed to her heart murmur at the relatively young age of eight.
Her death (which took place just before Christmas in my second year of my undergrad) was one of the most crushing blows I had suffered up until that point in my life.
I received the phone call mid-holiday party, and as I collapsed into a fit of tears, Marc ushered our well-meaning, though slightly confused guests out the door.
Wrapped up in his arms, I cried myself to sleep that night.
And the next.
My mum has since adopted two other cats – brothers Rufus and Simon who are as adorable as they are bonkers.
Simon is so sketchy, I often refer to him as a beetle, because anytime he is spooked, he will scuttle under the nearest couch, table, or bed.
Rufus is a consummate lounger – too cool for school, and utterly fabulous. Whenever I put on makeup in the bathroom, he’s right there in the sink, trying to massage his cheeks up again my blush brush.
And I love both of them, truly.
Like her cousins back east, Nymeria is also completely mad.
A calico, she speaks all the time, but especially as feeding hour approaches.
Sometimes I feel a little nuts, because I start to make noises in response her to mewls and meows, and before I really know what is happening, I’m engaged in a very strange conversation, without any idea of what it is I am hearing (or in fact saying.)
This is very similar to when I speak Russian with anyone beyond proficiency level 1.
(Babushkas man. They just love the chance to talk to anyone!)
Nymeria’s brilliant for the fact that she doesn’t destroy our furniture, but less so because she does a fabulous job of managing her stress on the carpet that covers our stairs.
She will sleep with me up until Marc gets into bed (he always retires much later than I) but then will return around 4 a.m. to sleep on my legs.
She loves to be brushed.
A giant ‘fraidy-cat, she will hunker out on our balcony, until she scares herself, and runs back inside.
She has such tiny feet, that more often than not, I will refer to her as Little Paws.
Other nicknames include: Beauty Cat, Big Eyes, Little One, Kitten, Douce Baggins (only used after a very, very stinky bathroom break), Duck (because when she sits a certain way, she looks like a duck riding the waves), and Dragon Cat.
I really, really like it when she’s Dragon Cat.
Anytime she hears a bag opening she will immediately run to the kitchen in hopes of a treat.
Anytime we come home from a trip she will shower us with the softest of kitten kisses.
Anytime I think about her, my little heart smiles.
We made our escape Friday afternoon: M commandeered the getaway car, stopping only briefly outside of my office building so I could throw my bags into the backseat, before sliding my little self into the front.
With the sun shining down on us, as well as lighting up the long-missed cerulean sky, we drove out of Vancouver proper and made our way to the, most aptly named, Sunshine Coast.
This, my friends, is a place filled with magic.
And I would like to share with you some snaps from our brief stint in paradise.
Fire.
Morning.
Games.
Ocean.
Trees.
Post-run.
View.
Beauty.
…
Sometimes I have great difficulty sleeping. I am either thinking too much, or I wake up in the middle of the night soaked in sweat. Whatever the case may be, my anxieties have a tendency to wreck havoc with my achieving the recommended eight hours.
Last Friday night, the night of our arrival, I slept better than I have for months. My head hit the pillow sometime around ten o’clock and I didn’t stir until eight the next morning. When I woke, I felt clear-headed and refreshed, as if emerging from a warm, safe, (and oh-so snuggly) cocoon.
Marveling at the early morning sunshine, M and I drank steaming mugs of dark, sweet coffee, and watched the families of ducks as they dived and dashed about in the water surrounding the dock.
We would have sat outside had the temperature not hovered around zero degrees celcius. There are only so many blankets in which a person can be swaddled.
Around ten thirty I set out for my weekly long training run. It’s always a bit of shock to the system, the first few minutes of the run, as the fresh, cool, coastal air, rushes in my nose and down my throat, frost tickling my heart and lungs.
But eventually, as always, I adapt, as does my stride and pace – although never my hands. My hands ache from the cold, and warp into hard demi-claws, that chap red and painful.
I run facing traffic, although on a Saturday morning, there is little to be found. I often smile to myself, as I am fooled again and again by the strong wind in the trees, that I too often mistake for an approaching engine, or tire.
On Wednesday I pulled a King Lear and went for a run in a storm.
(Unlike Lear however, I managed to keep all of my clothes on.)
There really is something to be said for powering through totally crap weather. But then again, there is also something to be said for knowing when to say ENOUGH.
Of course, today is absolutely blooming gorgeous (though still chilly to the bone) so I’m excited to be out and about, actually feeling some of that sunshine on my face.
In other BIG NEWS – yesterday I purchased tickets for this year’s Oregon Shakespeare Festival.
YAY!
This makes me SO EXCITED.
Oh Ashland – I love you with so much of heart that none is left to protest!
This of course means, that the I won’t need to keep running in the rain to get my regular dose of old Willy Shakes. This year we will be seeing King Lear (my absolute favourite tragedy, I CANNOT WAIT), along with Cymbeline and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
MEEP.
I love this production company SO MUCH it is hard for me to appropriately communicate just how much I am looking forward to this trip.
Much like last year, we will be camping, but unlike last year we will be driving straight to Ashland (with perhaps a stop in Portland because, you know, PUT A BIRD ON IT) and staying the length of our trip in the town.
This will be my fourth time at the festival, (and somehow my third time seeing Midsummer!) and I am basically already bouncing off of the walls just thinking about it.
Because dudes – I LOVE SHAKESPEARE.
Lovelovelove him.
It.
His plays.
(Or what you will.)
See what I did there?
Fry-up time!
Don’t give me that lip.
Currently I am obsessed with red lipstick. If I could only wear one piece of make-up for the rest of my life, it would be my choice.
HANDS DOWN NO CONTEST.
(Although you would probably also have to pry my NARS blush from my cold, dead hands.)
There is just something about a strong lip that makes me feel like a super hero. I like to imagine that when I am getting ready for work in the morning, I am magically transformed from glowering ork to ethereal Galadriel – so terrifying and mesmerizing I am, in all of my splendour.
ONE LIPSTICK TO RULE THEM ALL.
Uh.
Reign it in there lady, reign it in.
But serious, if you were to look in my purse at any given time, I can guarantee that you would find on average three different lip products, of varying degrees of red (I like blue undertones the most – nothing too orangey or brown because GALADRIEL DOESN’T MESS WITH THAT STUFF.)
But seeing as though I cannot properly answer this question, if you lovely people could weigh-in, provide your two cents, opine on the subject, etc., etc., it would be much appreciated.
But I really love him.
Like, a lot.
Playing dress-up.
One of my favourite books of all time is The Buddha of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi. I could wax long and eloquent FOR YEARS about why this is one of the most brilliant and beautiful stories I have ever read – so while that post percolates away in the recesses of my brain, take my word for it when I say that you must read it IMMEDIATELY.
One of the characters Eva is always waltzing about her East London flat in these amazing maxi dresses, so when I saw this piece the other day, my immediate reaction was:
BUY IT! PRETEND TO BE EVA!
BUY IT AND THROW GLAMOUROUS EAST LONDON PARTIES!
I mean, I would probably have to procure some headscarves, and maybe a couple of pairs of over-sized earrings to really pull off the entire ensemble, but I think that owning this dress is definitely a step in the right direction.
I’ll let you know if I take the plunge.
…
So there you have it beauty cats!
Are any of you planning on catching any of the Bard this summer? And what makeup (if any) turns you in a battle prepped warrior?
Do let me know – because after all, we’re in this good fight together.
If you are interested in listening to the interview, it can be found here.
Rant and Roll 