Archive | June, 2012

Rose Gold Watches

29 Jun

I am kind of in love with rose gold watches, and my 15 year old watch just died on me, so I need a new one.  Dragging around a sundial is turning out to be really inconvenient, not to mention useless indoors.

My only problem is that I like to buy things that last and that I won’t get tired of.  When I was buying my sofa I debated whether I would still like its robin’s egg blue colour in ten years, and the salesman laughed at me for thinking I’d still have the sofa in a decade.  Like, what, in his world people buy a new sofa every couple of years?  Either the sofas he sells are really poor quality and fall apart in a few years, or his customers have a lot more money than I do.

ANYway, my point is that I’m afraid rose gold is just a fun little trend in metallics and will look horribly outdated in two years.  People will gasp at my wrist and whisper: Good lord!  That watch is so 2012!!  Shun her and her backward ways!

So, I’m undecided and will probably just stick with a good old neon Swatch, because those things never go out of style, right?

1. Michael Kors MK5613 Blair Rose Gold Watch $250
2. Michael Kors Ladies’ Hudson Rose Gold Glitz Watch With Square Dial $275
3. Fossil Mini Stella ES2864 $95
4. MARC BY MARC JACOBS “MARCI” Watch with Rose Gold Bracelet $215
5. Fossil Stella Rose Watch $135

Pic of the Day

28 Jun

Infinity pool at the Elounda Gulf Villas in Crete.

Book Review: A Monster Calls

27 Jun

A Monster Calls, by Patrick Ness, is a children’s book that deals with some pretty heavy subject matter.  The protagonist, Conor O’Malley, is coping with his mother’s cancer, and the treatment  he receives at school because of it.  It marks him as different to the kids in his class, who bully and ostracize him, and to the teachers, who give him special treatment and make allowances because of what he is going through outside of school.  In addition to the cancer and bullying, he is also dealing with his parents’ divorce and feeling abandoned by his father’s remarriage and move out of the country.

In the midst of all this, and at the point when his mother’s illness takes a turn for the worse, he is visited in the night by a giant yew tree which has transformed into a monster.  The monster tells him three parables, with the agreement that Conor will tell him something in return: the truth.  The tales the monster tells are not black and white.  There are no heroes, no good (or truly bad) guys, no happy endings.  They occupy a grey space, are conflicted, confusing, and offer Conor no clear cut answers or advice.  They simply portray the human condition in all its ambiguity and complication.

Through the monster’s visits and the stories he tells, Conor is finally able to come to terms with his mother’s cancer and to admit his true feelings.  I won’t give away the ending, or what his truth is, because it’s worth reading yourself to find out.  There are certain authors who are so masterful at their craft, that you know from the first sentence the story will not disappoint, and Patrick Ness is one of those authors.  His words, and the illustrations by Jim Kay that accompany them, are raw, powerful, honest, and heart-breaking.  It is a children’s book that should not be missed, regardless of your age.

I give it 5 monsters out of 5.

Pic of the Day

26 Jun

The perfect dress to go with my minty nails!

More pics and price here.

Mint Green Silver Ombre Glitter Nails

25 Jun

These nails make me feel like Judy Jetson, or some sort of disco-loving martian.  And, by the way, it’s 2012.  Why are we not living on the moon yet?

 

I used Seche Vite Dry Fast Top Coat, Revlon Mint (#85), Sephora by OPI in Keep Me On My Mistletoe, and Winmax silver glitter. That pink thing is a kitchen sponge I cut up to create the ombre effect.

Once I had the green basecoat done, I dipped the sponge in the OPI enamel, then tamped it down on the paper to remove the excess polish.

Lightly pat the sponge on the top portion of the nail until it looks something like this:

Oooh, purdy!  But we’re not done yet!

Stick some glitter on that sucker!  Glitter makes everything better.  Except for pancakes.

Et voila!  Slap on some Seche Vite top coat (which, ps, is the BEST top coat EVER), and you are done.  Now off to the martian disco I go.

Pic of the Day

21 Jun

St. Andrews, Scotland.

White Painted Floors

20 Jun

I have a mild obsession with white painted hardwood floors.  (Mild meaning greater than my obsession with checking that the iron is shut off, but less than my obsession with washing my hands).  Rooms with white painted floors are bright, clean, airy, and serene. I imagine the owners of these spaces drink herbal tea, and wear a lot of linen clothing.

With white floors, I think the rest of the decor has to be a bit worn, with a shabby-chic, cottagey vibe, and some colour or texture thrown in, otherwise it can feel a bit sterile, or like you’re living in a white padded cell.  Which is not really that inviting.  Whenever guests came over you’d have to hand them a straight-jacket and say: “Make yourself at home!”  Straight-jackets put a real damper on an evening…although they don’t look bad with linen pants.

source: thehouseaholic.wordpress.com

source: marycorder.blogspot.ca

source: bytheseabeachdecor.blogspot.ca

source: coastalliving.com

Pic of the Day

19 Jun

source: pinkwallpaper.blogspot.ca

 

A couple of years ago I looked out the window while at work, and saw a woman pull up to the curb in an old pink VW Beetle.  She got out of the car and I saw that she was dressed in pepto-bismal pink from head to toe, and sported a resplendent head of hot pink hair (dyed, I presume).  She then proceeded to pull out, with much difficulty, a HUGE pink stuffed cow from the back seat, and then tottered down the street clutching the cow in front of her.

And I still lose sleep wondering what her deal was.

Black Blazers

18 Jun

I was in a store recently and a woman next to me pulled a black blazer off the rack, held it up to her body and said to her friend: “Do you think I could pull this off?”  Her friend appraised her and said ‘Yes” but the woman shrugged, said she didn’t think she could, and put it back on the rack.

Uhh, hello?  Can you ‘pull off’ a black blazer?  You have arms and a torso, right?  Because pretty much anyone and anything can pull off a black blazer.

If you don’t think you can, then you should just give up now and resign yourself to a life of sweat pants and free fun-run t-shirts covered in ketchup stains.

A black blazer is the great wardrobe equalizer.  It can tone down a frou-frou gown and give it some edge.  Or it can elevate a summery dress into something appropriate for the office.  It can take a pair of lowly jeans and make them worthy of a night out, or just class up a pair of slouchy boyfriend jeans.  It’s basically a wardrobe staple that works miracles.  Heck, sometimes I just throw a blazer over my pjs, head out to the grocery store and people marvel at my super-chic style. (no one marvels)

So, yes, lady in the store.  You CAN pull off a black blazer.  And here are a few ways to do it:

source: chictopia.com

source: thelook4less.net

source: style-edition.com

Father’s Day

15 Jun

My Buddhist teacher read this poem to us on the first night of our retreat  and it struck a chord with me.  As we get older, hopefully anyway, we start to develop more compassion and perspective and realize that being a father is hard.  Most of them just do the best they can and hope their kid turns out all right.

“Phone Call” by Tony Hoagland

Maybe I overdid it
when I called my father an enemy of humanity.
That might have been a little strongly put,
a slight overexaggeration,

an immoderate description of the person
who at that moment, two thousand miles away,
holding the telephone receiver six inches from his ear,
must have regretted paying for my therapy.

What I meant was that my father
was an enemy of my humanity
and what I meant behind that
was that my father was split
into two people, one of them

living deep inside of me
like a bad king or an incurable disease –
blighting my crops,
striking down my herds,
poisoning my wells – the other
standing in another time zone,
in a kitchen in Wyoming,
with bad knees and white hair sprouting from his ears.

I don’t want to scream forever,
I don’t want to live without proportion
like some kind of infection from the past,

so I have to remember the second father,
the one whose TV dinner is getting cold
while he holds the phone in his left hand
and stares blankly out the window

where just now the sun is going down
and the last fingertips of sunlight
are withdrawing from the hills
they once touched like a child.

-from What Narcissism Means To Me (Greywolf Press, 2003)

 

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