Amid all the ugliness last week, I did get some glimpses of sunshine; and I’m not talking about the 
weather. Twice, I spent time with people I haven’t seen in years, and I do mean years, reminiscing about all the good times we shared.
The last several years I lived in Montreal I was doing advertising and PR in the fashion industry; and, after a couple of years at a tiny agency that specialized in the fur industry, I ended up working for a manufacturer and Continue reading
I’m almost ashamed to write this post. To admit I am capable of being so … so … so superficial. Such a victim of fashion. But I was a kid at the time. 
What did I know? At least that’s how I’ve decided to look at it.
If it wasn’t for today’s WordPress Daily Prompt I would probably never have mentioned it. Hell, I would never have thought of it. Period. “Was there a toy or thing you always wanted as a child, during the holidays or on your birthday, but never received? Tell us about it.”
In my case it wasn’t a toy. Nor did I always want “it”. It wasn’t a holiday or my birthday either. It was just an ordinary Saturday. I was about 11 or twelve years old. No more than 13 to be sure.
As was the custom then, my mother had her hair done every Saturday. Women still used rollers in their hair. Pre Vidal Sassoon cuts. Pre blow dryers. Men still went to barbers. Women went to hairdressers.
Anyway, I often went with my mother. It was our girls’ day out. She and her twin sister went to the same salon, so the three of us would always have lunch when they were done; and then we’d go shopping. We
Yes, yes, I know. I recently ranted about award shows. Said I most certainly wouldn’t be watching last Sunday night’s Oscar telecast. And, at the time, I meant it. 
But I’m a woman, after all. I’m not ashamed to admit I like fashion. I’m not a slave to it, but I like it.
Guess I’m trying to find a way to tell you I have no resolve. Because I caved. I watched the Red Carpet. Okay, I’m weak. What can I say?
Truth be told, I also watched the show on and off, as well. But I’m only going to talk about the clothes. Except for these three comments:
Back to the clothes. Personally, I was disappointed. As I have been, throughout the award season.
Frankly, I long for the good old days. Before stylists got in on the act. Before designers got in on the act. Before ‘stars’ were Continue reading
When I worked in the fashion industry back in Montreal, one of my favourite models to work with was a young, beautiful, tall blonde from 
Czechoslovakia. Before moving to Canada, in 1975, she was an extremely talented skier. So good, in fact, she was selected as an alternate on the 1972 Czech Olympic Ski Team.
In all honesty, she was every designer’s favourite model. She was beautiful, everything looked fabulous on her, she had a great personality on and off the runway, she was very bright and extremely professional. She was always on time, always prepared, always at her best. If she partied, and I have no idea whether or not she did, she didn’t the night before a job, that’s for damn sure. That was very evident.
Her name, when I first met her, was Ivana Winklmayr. The name you would know her by, though, is Ivana Trump. Continue reading
The other day, the author of a blog I follow wrote about colour. It made me think. Ever since my trip to India, I cannot get enough of the colour turquoise. Not the pale, watery version.
The deep, bright, vibrant, intense shade. 
It’s the colour painted on my bedroom walls. Chotchkies I collect. Pillows, tossed on a daybed in my living room. Sweaters. T-shirts. Even my wallet. And my toothbrush. I’m drawn to it, like a bee to honey.
It just makes me feel good. It makes me smile. And it warms me up.
Before I became obsessed with turquoise, it was celadon green. Pale, soft and relaxing, celadon isn’t just a colour. It’s also the name given to ceramics which originated in 13th century China, and were glazed in that particular shade of green.
It’s a very calming colour; and in my condo, my living and dining room walls were celadon. Whenever I stepped into those rooms, it was like letting out a huge sigh of relief. A polar opposite of what I’m living in, now. Continue reading
I went and had the strap on my watch changed yesterday. It was like magic. In less than a minute I had a brand new watch. Presto! For a fraction of the cost. Just
a simple, little refresh was all it took, to make me love it all over again. So much so, all afternoon I kept glancing over, admiring it, as it lay wrapped around my left wrist.
But the real significance of yesterday’s experience was, it’s taught me that the change doesn’t always have to be as radical, or costly, as we may have originally thought. I love this watch. It works perfectly. I didn’t need a new one. That would have been a totally unnecessary and extravagant purchase. And in a few years’ time, I’ll wager I’d be just as bored with the new watch, as this old one. The new band did the trick!
And this, of course, has made me think of all the changes we can, sometimes should and, often do, make in our lives; in an effort to breath new life into our wardrobes, our homes, our careers, our relationships, our lives, and even ourselves. Both the changes, themselves, and how dramatic (or not) they need to be.
Ask any fashion editor or stylist and I’m sure they’ll agree. Most women who are considered to be well-dressed, don’t necessarily have tons of clothes. They have equal amounts of fabulous accessories, imagination, style and daring. Make an old skirt new again, by adding a spectacular belt. Last year’s dress is unrecognizable when you make an interesting pin the new focal point; or toss a new jacket, cardigan or shawl on top of it. Shorten an old mid-calf length coat to mid way between your hips and knees, and everyone will think you’ve just bought it.
Instead of buying a new wide-brimmed hat, that’s sure to be ‘in’ fashion one year and ‘out’ the next, borrow one of your husband’s fedoras. The same outfit, worn Continue reading
365 And Counting 