…packing,
packing,
packing,
packing…

eat food…

…packing,
packing,
packing,
packing…

I move to downtown Toronto in two days!

On Friday night, I went to Red Square for the first time (St. Catharines very own and only hip bar with a communist theme) despite the fact that I have been avoiding the place for years. Appropriately enough, I then signed up for my first LiveJournal account today.
No, seriously.
Now, don’t freak out, nothing’s going to change.
Some nefarious and questionably fashionable hipster has not overtaken my body.
I am not going over to the dark side.
I am just accommodating all those who are already have.
I’ve noticed that some people gravitate more to LiveJournal because of it’s ease of use, and built in community. Not everybody want’s to spend their lives coding, and actively seeking out readers. I have come to understand and accept that and I want to help the people I know and love to be able to access this joint more easily.
I will simply be syndicating my journal there, so that all those who have become accustom to using… sigh… “LJ” can more easily access whatever I put up here.
Starting with this post.
If everything works properly, that is.

Drawn! has had a forum for all of a very few hours, and already I’m hooked. I’m so sucked in, it’s not even funny.
Also, there’s this. What did I say about my friend Aaron getting famous someday?
Yeah.
I think when I said someday, I should have said, like, in a couple of weeks.

She has a name!
(and a new dress that brings out her pretty green eyes.)

Um… I’m sorry? What was that?
What?
What?!?
Seriously?
You can’t seriously think that that’s not a bad idea.
And I thought those white-trash parties that were all the rage a couple years ago were offensive…
Williamsburg is stupid.
Dart: I’m totally won over. Hip-hop Hipsters must die.
I think what it comes down to, is if they seriously appreciated rap culture, they’d participate in it rather than make fun of it.

I was surfing around looking for pictures when I stumbled upon the exact article I cut into teensy pieces and collaged across my world when I was a teenager. Which reminded me of just how much the Seventeen magazines I read in the late nineties affected my brain.
Parents are still trying to dissect the appeal of teenage publications, occasionally attempting to censor issues with articles that dare to expose their children to things they already learned in a sixth grade health class (or, predictably, on the third grade playground).
If only I could console them…
By telling them that Seventeen had a huge effect on me – but only on the music I listen to and the clothes I wear, and my undying love for everything Sofia Coppola (and occasionally my literary voice – I got that whole sophisticated-2o-something-woman trying to sound like a 14-year-old-girl thing down. Girlfriend).
If it weren’t for Seventeen, I would have never heard of Built by Wendy, Cibo Matto, Hard Candy, or Bjork (who was on the cover of one of the first Seventeen’s I ever bought).
In other words, my whole artistic aesthetic would be completely off.
The Seventeen I read was run by a group of post-grunge/pre-dot-com individuals who didn’t care about the status quo and repeatedly put obscure things in their pages. Things like fashion spreads featuring socks with (relatively inexpensive!) high heels, shopping sprees with the Sneaker Pimps, and interviews that explained why the Cardigans were more than just that Love-fool song. Unfortunately magazines are all about the status quo, and things changed pretty swiftly right around when I was nearing the actual age of 17.
Some might say I just outgrew the thing, but the editor-in-chief actually changed right around then, and my younger sister stopped reading it shortly after that as well. So I say my “things were better in my day” old-timer rant is fully justified.

Turns out I’m not the only Toronto based (or soon to be), OCAD attending (fingers crossed), name dropping, sketch-booking, self-portrait painting, female in my family.
Genetics are weird.
And this is really cool. But image heavy. So you’re forewarned and stuff.

(more…)

I am pretty much not a fan of Nike. Never wore them, never owned them, don’t like any of their posturing or business practices. I wouldn’t burn a Nike-Town down, or anything. But I wouldn’t be sad if they stop existing either.
But.
These shoes.
Are awesome.
Black crocodile, silver, and tiffany blue? With a little diamond silk screen?
Oh.
My.
Do you know what they need though? Hot pink laces. And then they need to get with my new vans. And then make cute little rubber and leather babies.

Multiple choice quiz.
Pick one answer. Use a number two pencil.

1. Do we think these shoes are:
a) Cute.
b) Super-kawaii!
c) Tacky, and ugly.
d) Cute, but would be cuter with chubby turquoise laces.
or
e) That monstrosity would only become tackier and, therefore, more powerful with the addition of coloured laces. Do not allow Shoezilla to destroy the city!

Personally, I’m going with option d (seeing as I now own these things) but I would be interested to hear what other peoples opinions on the matter are.

(originally published in the January 17, 2006 issue of the Brock Press )

Today I was contacted about filling some space with a column. My job around here used to be to take pictures of people in cute outfits, dispense fashion advice and colour in pictures in Photoshop. It was a pretty sweet gig, but I’ve moved on, and fresh young people have taken my place.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t have anything left to say to the students of this university.
I am here to talk to you about the merits of a little place called Portland, Oregon, and why we should be so lucky as to live there someday.
At first glance Portland doesn’t seem like it has a lot to offer.
But that’s like saying Alice’s rabbit hole looks like just a hole in the ground.
Then you fall into it.
(more…)

village voice > nyclife > The Essay by Nick Sylvester
This article reminds me of that time Aaron went jogging.
Unfortunately, I can’t seem to track down the pictures of said event. I can assure you that they were funny.
Aaron will be famous one day. And he will continue to be un-amusing to the people who actually know him. Which is as it should be, really.

Here she is! My new dolly.
I hand sewed her little outfit.
The skirt is made from vintage seersucker, and fleecy pink coat has a little vintage starburst button that I’ve been saving for something special (like her).
She does not have a name yet. Boo. I have a hard time naming things. Maybe somebody out there’s got some ideas?

Have I mentioned yet, that I attended a Bar-mitzvah themed New Years party in a Thornhill Basement with a real-life-honest-to-goodness Bar-mitzvah DJ, and a real-life-honest-to-goodness Vice Magazine Intern, and the Canadian representative for Japanther?
We listened to Boards of Canada, New Kids on the Block, and Faith Evans and danced the Hora.
You may think I made that all up to make some ironic statement about modern ‘hipsterism’ – but I didn’t.
100% the truth.
I have either made all the right connections, or all the wrong ones.
I just can’t make up my mind.
I think I’m going to say for now, it’s fun, so I can stand being a indie-socialite (besides, I’m moving to downtown Toronto to go to art school, so I should probably get used to it).

Very soon, (as of February first), that ^ will no longer be the view out our front window.
Yep, we are locking up our very first Toronto apartment!