love her
I want to be Kelly Kapoor when I grow up.
If you know me, you know that I love Mad Men.
I’m pretty proud that I was one of the first people to discover it, way back in the spring of oh-seven when it premiered on AMC (before that if you count me salivating over the ads). To be fair, a show made by the classic movie channel set in an early sixties advertising firm surrounded by vintage office equipment, mid-century furniture, fabulous fashions, saturated colours, excellent writing, and some very good actors (including former cast members of pretty much all my favourite TV shows and movies, ever) combines ALL of my favourite things in the universe into one beautiful little package - wrapped up in ribbons and bows like a present just for me.
So when Joan Holloway (also known as the sexiest character on TV) strutted across the screen in a cute little capris, and boat-neck sweater outfit I was pretty much instantaneously jealous.
Until I remembered I have pretty much that exact outfit sitting in my mid-century, walnut, tallboy dresser:

Yeah. It was totally meant to be, this outfit and me.
P.S.: I am thinking of dying my hair red.
Little known fact about me: I used to hate the zucchini more than any other food on the face of the planet, except for possibly sweet pickles and liver.
I haven’t changed my mind about yum-yums, and beef liver still disgusts me (though I might occasionally snack on pate) but I have completely changed my tune when it comes to zuchini.
I like to call them courgette now though, and I think using that substantially more sophisticated, frenchified word calls to mind the softer, gentler, more indulgent vegetable a tender young zuchini can be. Sauted in butter and garlic? Delicious. Deep fried in tempura batter, dipped into ponzu? Yum.
The trick is to pick them when they’re young (the younger the better) and try out the sweeter yellow varieties instead of the traditional (and often bitter) green. Pattypan squashes are also pretty delightful and mild, and have that awesome spaceship shape.
Right now I have a basket full of the things, grown from my own garden, and I’m trying to decide what to turn them into. We are having a party on Saturday, and I’m thinking I can borrow a friends idea and use little rounds of them as the bases for canapes (in lieu of bread or crackers). Perhaps some courgette bruschetta? Could be pretty delicious.
Other than pondering zuchini, this week I’ve been crafting and watching the new fall shows. My verdict on the new 90210? That main Grimey girl is pretty annoying, but seeing Jessica Walters basically reprise her role as cocktail swilling, smack talking, matriarch of the Bluth clan is pretty worth it. Gossip Girl gets a similar pass for continuing to up the amazing outfits ante, and for giving me my sorely missed weekly dose of Chuck Bass. They both may or may not get watched depending on how I feel from week to week. They’re entertaining, but I’m not married to them or anything.
Now if only somebody would make a sitcom where Alia Shawcat runs a movie studio despite being a teenager (hilarity, of course, ensuing), we wouldn’t even need a Arrested Development movie…
Whenever people ask me what I thought of Yann Martel’s Life of Pi, usually I say I didn’t like it.
Which isn’t directly true - I did like it, in fact.
I just didn’t love it - which I think is the expected reaction to the book (I have similar feelings about Ironman). It was good, but it didn’t capture me. I think it has a compelling narrative, but the unreality of certain elements pulled me away from the whole. I just couldn’t get personally involved with the story, because it was too fantastic.
And I actually think the shock of getting personally involved with the fantastic is what draws people in to this story, and makes them laud it so.
Maybe I’ve just read too much magic realism to be surprised by such conceits.
Something that is fantastic, but wholly real is Yann Martels What is Stephen Harper reading? project/blog. It’s an oldie but a goodie. An entry Of note, is his letter about sending Jenna and Laura Bush’s recent childrens book to our Prime Minister. No mention is made of the identity of the authors.
This I love.
Another good blog find is Jezebel’s Fine Lines column. If you were a teenage girl in the last 30 years, you will love it too. Unless you were illiterate as a girl. Which I admit, is a total possibility.
Next week they will review The Girl with the Silver Eyes which was one of my favourite YA novels as a fifth grader. It reassured me that I felt like such an awkward, bespectacled, weirdo because I had magical superpowers. Duh.
So I am terribly excited about that upcoming one, in particular.
Past review of note include The Crazy Mixed Up Files of Miss Basil E. Frankweiler, the Little House on the Prarie books, and some of the more obscure Madeline L’Engle titles (not “A Wrinkle in Time,” in other words). Ummm…? Did these people find my diaries from when I was 13?
Since the damn column seems to be effectively spelunking my pre-teen-hood here’s hoping The Mysterious Disapearance of Leon (I mean Noel) makes it on the list someday soon. And maybe some Diana Wynne Jones too.
Another thing I love right now is Okami.
If you have a Wii you should RUN out and get it immediately. It’s definitely one of those games that makes having the platform worthwhile - between this and Super Mario Galaxy we’re pretty happy with our investment.
It has very similar game mechanics to the Zelda games, but takes place in a breathtakingly beautiful world, coated in floating cherry blossoms and pastoral settings.
It is rendered like a brightly coloured japanese print, coated in swashes of calligraphy - which is where one of the more innovative aspects of it’s gameplay comes from - you are given a brush loaded with black ink and must draw on your environment to enact changes. This (as you could imagine) is a lot more fun given the Wii’s controller than on the original Playstation 2 release.
The aspects of Japanese culture and folklore that are woven into the plot are also a welcome and fascinating addition. The game doesn’t spend much time explaining these elements (which will probably be quite foreign to most western audiences) and I actually quite like that about it - you are left to discern, and interpret things for yourself, which leaves the world you inhabit rich, exotic and mysterious.
Most of all I am left hungary for sushi, sake, and miso when I play this game (Katamari has a similar effect on me, but it is more direct since you are left to actually pick up japanese food with your growing Katamari ball).
And finally, you probably missed Reaper this fall. Or you might have caught the first (Kevin Smith directed) episode and moved on - understandably so. The show seemed to drag under it’s premise (a young man must complete tasks for the devil because his parents sold his soul out from under him). It became repetitive and task oriented. Not bad, just not surprising or new, like the pilot held the promise of being.
Well you should have stuck with it like we did, because as soon as it came back from the strike it came back (to quote the show) with a vengeance. Oh, and you know the fat kid from Breaker High who’s in this? Yeah, turns out he’s really, really funny. As is Micheal Ian Black, who guest stars towards the end (but you probably already knew that). As is Veronica Mar’s Ken Marino (you may remember him as Vinnie Van Lowe), also a recurring star. Actually, this show has perfect casting, right down to their chosen devil.
I think the show can now officially pick up the crown Buffy left in it’s wake for pop-culture saturated, supernatural, youthfully angsty show. Although I have to say, with it’s cadre of slacker boys as its core characters it feels more like Buffy as written by Judd Apatow.
Totally one to download, or rent when the 1st season DVD comes out.
A teensy post about The Hills (and then I’ll shut up about it forever… er, until next season at least).
This is the most genius article I have ever read about The Hills.
It explains, in a surprisingly intellectual manner, just what is so captivating about about the lives of our Lauren, Audrina, Whitney, Heidi, Spencer, Lo, Justin Bobby and Brody Jenner.
The short story: The Hills is practically Shakespearean in it’s characterization, complex enough in it’s plotting to be called a fine example of post-modernism, and in execution it shares much in common with French New Wave.
What’s not to love?
If you watched the Hills this week, then you probably rocked out a bit to that great French pop they played in between sweeping shots of the Eiffel tower.
Well, I am here to lead you to the source of it’s awesomeness. Although frankly, Jezebel beat me to it.
Her name Yelle, and she reminds me a heck of a lot of a certain other talented young European as she has a penchant for wacky - yet surprisingly flattering - Euro trash fashions and sweet and poppy elecro.
But where Robyn is like Bjork meets Gwen Stefani as raised by Missy, Yelle is like the secret French love child Peaches and Princess Superstar were always meant to have, with Francoise Hardy as her godmother.
When I watched horribly dubbed European childrens shows on TVO as a child, I never imagined that all those wacky/tacky clothes and all that cheesy Casio music would come back to haunt me in the most fabulous way possible.
How do Europeans get away with being so sophisticated all of a sudden, by doing the same things they’ve always done? We used to at least have their weird clothes and musical tastes to make fun of, even if everything else they did was pretty much superior in every way. Great, now you guys have a sizzling economy, unparalleled culture, excellent social programs, and all the good pop music and outfits. Unfair guys, unfair.
(Sidebar: If you’re unfamiliar with Francoise Hardy you should click on this link ’cause Francoise Hardy is the bomb. I can never get over how pretty she was, and how modern she looked and sounded - fourty years ago BTW - and she’s pretty much even hotter now that she’s older - hrmmm… maybe the French have always been good at the whole music and outfits thing…)

And it is this:
I watch the Hills.
BUT
I feel that in this last episode, something important happened: It is no longer important whether or not it’s real. I don’t care. I never really cared, but this episode cemented it for me.
Actually, I think I prefer to think of it all as some constructed fairy tale. It allows me to feel like my own life isn’t so very crappy because I don’t have to compare our realities. Because “reality” on the Hill’s is something along the line of that the worst thing that could possibly happen to you is ruining your ballgown because you were out partying in it at a Parisian nightclub with some French rock stars.
Sigh…
Whose life could compare to that?
Even Carrie Bradshaw’s last trip to Paris kinda sucked it big time.
For those of those unfamiliar, this season premiered with an episode in which our heroine (the adorable Lauren Conrad) jetted off to Paris.
She was in town to go to a ball - and then poor little miss Cinderlauren burned her ballgown and had nothing to wear to the ball - but it’s ok cause a designer simply whipped up an even more fabulous dress for her to wear! Yay!
Then of course, while at the ball (which turned out to be kinda boring, FYI) who do you think shows up? Yeah, a gorgeous French rocker (who is seriously crushing on our gal BTW) in some very tight pants on a very tight vespa. So what does Lauren do? Hikes up her ball gown and goes for a midnight tour of Paris, of course! Who wouldn’t?
Also: who doesn’t love a girl that looks hot in red lipstick, and knows to co-ordinate her nails and beverage accordingly.
Also: Whitney seems like such a good influence on everyone, especially Laruen - who doesn’t exactly have the best track record when choosing friends (to say the least). So astoundingly down to earth. And soo so pretty-pretty. Katherine Heigl pretty. God, I wish she were my BFF/coworker.
The show may be reality TV - but the reality is for the girls who watch it, it’s 100% fantasy fulfillment. Just like reading Teen Vogue. Nobody’s shocked when it turns out to be less than the truth - whether or not Heidi actually thinks she has a legitimate singing career, Lauren does a lick of work at Teen Vogue, or Audrina posed for nude pictures.
Not important. More debutante balls please. More Paris. More partys. More outfits. More cat fights. More playboys. More rock stars.
It’s an indulgence, and as such it fits into my life alongside my more serious pursuits.
And if I’m supposed to give it up, simply because it’s silly, than I say to you: give up your Will Ferrel movies, your sporting events, your Guitar Hero and your American Idol.
You do all that, and I’ll stop watching the Hills.
I found this image when surfing around, I believe it is an entry at last years Canada Blooms. I am totally taking it as my inspiration for my garden to be (and am I the only one who is very much reminded of Fred Penner’s Place and his awesome forest garden shed? Am I the only one who remembers Fred Penner?).
I love the juxtaposition of very vibrant saturated colours (the purple birdhouses, the yellow wellies, the electric blue stakes) popped against a rough, rustic, natural background with splashes of verdant and chartreuse gardens.
Although I’m gonna probably rock saturated oranges and pinks, rather than purples and blues because I have a couple big orange berried rowan trees (also known as Mountain ash) to work with. Totally using the “bright lights” swiss chard I want to grow as a colour inspiration.
I have also bought You Grow Girl, and am reading my way through - it’s pretty awesome. It’s got neat crafts, simple instructions, beautiful photography and a youthful/urban/girly attitude that is super easy for a youthful/urban/girl to relate to. The author actually lives down the street somewhere here in Parkdale, so I know all her advice is workable for me here in Toronto’s micro-climate. Perfect!
There are two things I want today, if the internetz will allow it:
Saltwater sandals in bright shiny yellow (or maybe red or orange or navy blue)
and
The Adventures of Brisco County Jr. (Bruce Cambell! In a western/sci-fi/dramedy! Need I say more?)
The end.