Fringe Alert

Patient Zero is still fighting the plague. Or possibly Laryngitis, we're not sure yet. Since my brain is fully full of phlegm (sexy visual), the apex of my mental acuity will manifest itself in pretty photos of Freja Beha Erichsen from the Jan issue of British Vogue.

Please take special note of those bangs. THOSE BANGS!

  

Figured I already have the length and general fuzziness down-pat. Next stop, full fringe?

Photos via.

Movie-going: A Most Violent Year

Squished somewhere in the middle of a jam-packed weekend, I corralled a few folks into watching A Most Violent Year. The movie itself was pretty solid -- good story, great performances, sumptuous (ten-point word alert) color palette, maybe a touch too slow. But I'm not here to talk cinema (clearly). My big takeaway? CHASTAIN'S COSTUMES. Would you take a look at them.

And these are just the promo stills you find online! J-Chas kills it. I've never been partial to an 80s silhouette (I could still leave some of her shoulder pads behind, tbh), but Chastain looked so insanely glamorous, frame after frame, that I might have to reconsider my position. I find myself hankering for shiny bangs and a white, full-length coat. Totally practical for a Montreal metro-rider with combination skin.

 

Better add to the list: at least one push-up bra with a good work ethic. Holy boobies!

Maybe I'll start by wearing some power-red lipstick during daylight hours, then see where the look takes me.

A Most Violent Year just started playing at the Forum. Tomorrow happens to be Cheapy Tuesday. Get your behind to the movie theatre and give this one a shot. You might leave with some wardrobe inspiration (plus or minus a crush on Oscar Isaac) (did you know he speaks Spanish!) (I digress).

Happy Monday, lovelies!

14 // Hair dye etc

Something happened this past weekend. After a seven year hiatus, I dyed my hair! Still not sure what prompted me, but I bet a therapist can find some reasons.

The "before" looked like this:

The middle -- aka time spent letting my hair cook while I was slowly poisoned by the sharp stink of peroxide -- found me feeling very confident I'd soon look like this:

Coolest fucken kid in school, right? That girl (Future Me) has her shit together, never repeats her footwear in a given week, and always carries enough cash to buy an ice cream at Kem Coba.

The grand finale:

Ombré? Nombré (ha ha lame). My hair basically looks the same. Which is okay, really, because I'm still getting used to the sliiiightly noticeable difference. Also, nothing's stopping me from keeping that $4 in my wallet, with or without kick ass multi-toned hair.

(Unrelated side note: My right eye looks wonky in the last photo because I'd just been rubbing it like crazy. What a small torture, getting something in your eye. Nothing helps! On the bright side, my left eye is looking Disney princess-esque by comparison. What up, new Make Up For Ever mascara!)