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.

Sick day

Today was a sick day, a sofa day, a wasted day. A proud of myself for mustering the strength to bathe (bonus for the face mask) day. A Neocitran morning, followed by a groggy afternoon. Too many movies  -- Fargo, then Under The Skin, then When Harry Met Sally. So much ache in the head and congestion of the face.

You get the idea.

My appetite is momentarily zilch, but that hasn't stopped me from fantasizing about this cookie from Maman bakery. Someone book me a ticket to New York... as soon as standing upright doesn't induce wobbly muscles and flop sweat. (Oh yes, I AM beacon of sex appeal and sweat pants, thanks for asking.)

Photo right-click-saved from New York Magazine (link above).

Den Um?

TGITuesday! That's something people say, right? It's not? It's not.

Recently, I purged my closet of all most of my long-unworn clothing. The process was shamefully overdue, largely because I create irrational and unnecessary sentimental attachments to my wardrobe. Plenty of folks do the same. (Weirdly seems like lady-only, or lady-mostly, behavior.) If you're worried you'll regret parting with that top you wore five years ago, on your second date with your now-husband, or you'll miss the dress you wore, once, to your best friend's birthday, and it hasn't fit you since, or something along those lines, let me tell you that I FEEL YOU but YOU WON'T REGRET A DAMN THING. It felt GOOD to bring bags of still very wearable clothes to a nearby women's shelter -- way better than hanging onto items I hadn't glanced at in... who even knows how long. (Pro tip, gleaned from this book: Memories can and will survive in your head, with or without the associative object.)

Whoa boy. Quelle long & borderline preachy way to introduce a considerably superficial subject. SHOPPING! As in, I might have been a tad gung-ho when clearing the closet. The few jeans I kept are now, unfortunately, in dire need of replacement (or, at the very least, short-term sabbatical).

Something you should know: I hate shopping for jeans. And pants. Any garment, really, that requires leg separation + confinement. Not to mention the ordeal of Saving Private Ryan-ing a size that fits both my waist and my ass -- body parts which, like my boobs (tmi?), either never got the message their sizes should be harmonious, or the feedback was received but unwelcome, so now they are being spiteful. Whatever. At almost every turn, I have avoided the dreaded Shopping For Denim experience by (A) honing in on that *one* good jean that fits and buying a pair in every color, or (B) wearing skirts. Until today. Today, the job can be avoided no more.

In an effort to reduce store-level frustration and anxiety, I poked around online for viable options.

Hence:

Topshop, why is all your denim cropped? Wait, I forgot, I don't care. I'm 5'3". Nothing is cropped. As a person who already owns three pairs of Jamie, I'm thinking it's time to branch out. Or not -- the ripped option is still a Jamie cut. The first style is Leigh and I'm digging the mid-rise. 

Is American Eagle Outfitters still a place to buy denim? I mean, years ago, all my jeans were from there. I was also eighteen, living in suburbia, and AEO just arrived at the local mall. But I remember the quality being good! Right? I think so! Anyway, I'm enjoying the cut and wash on this pair, dubbed the Hi-Rise Skinny Jeans (round of applause for name originality). Worth a peruse, at minimum.

 

And then there was Zara. Simple, cute, probably affordable. But will there be anything on the shelves? To be confirmed this afternoon.

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!

TGIF

How about, instead of a true-to-form actual post wherein I explore and express deep personal thoughts (HAHAHA), I offer a mini round-up of tidbits you might find innerestin'. Just some things I've been looking at, or listening to, or have generally lassoed my adhd attention span for longer than ten minutes.

Also, full disclosure, I'm reheating some pizza right now. We basically have until those heavenly leftover slices are edible via oven regeneration, then I quit this bitch so I can stuff my face. Game on!

READING Noggin by John Corey Whaley. There's a whole story about how the author and Josh became buddies, and it's a really good story but kinda long and, mostly, not mine to tell. The long and short of it ends with me borrowing a copy of the dude's first book and thoroughly enjoying the read. Noggin is his latest and is proving equally good.

WATCHING Am I the last person to start Bob's Burgers? (Considering the show is in its fifth season, I'm sure the answer YES MOSTLY LIKELY.) Still trying to figure out my favorite character. Louise -- too obvious? The mom? BOB? Time will tell.

WATCHING PT. TWO A Most Violent Year is out in Montreal. I want to go to there this weekend.

LISTENING Erika (hey girl!) recently turned me onto Invisibilia. Let's be clear: I am not a podcast person (see: abovementioned struggle to maintain long-term attention). I followed Serial borderline-religiously, who didn't, but that was largely the grand sum of my podcasting. But Invisibilia! It's good! The episodes I've followed have been interesting, creepy, a wee bit science-y (so you get to feel smart on top of smug for listening to a podcast to begin with), and ultra NPR-ish as far as human interest stories go. As was suggested to me, start with The Secret History of Thoughts and see where it takes you.

Pizza time, byeee!

Hunger pangs

Came across a recipe for Donut Ice Cream Sandwiches (my keen trans-fat-tracking eyes positively ID-ed those bad boys as Krispy Kreme) and promptly declared GAME OVER. I won't rest until such a dessert is resting in my (puffy, borderline lactose intolerant-y) belly.

I'm thinkin'... honey glazed + Cherry Garcia.
I'm thinkin'... chocolate + Mint Chocolate Chip.
I'm thinkin'... Boston cream + cookie dough (sweet Jesus).

Hold onto your hats and your guts because STEF. MUST. TRY.

Image c/o.

Welcome to the future (book clubbing in 2015)!

Happy 2015! Are you pumped? Are you ready? Have you made all sorts of resolutions? Have they already started falling through? No worries! It’s the new year!

Except, isn't it funny, the new year looks like the one just passed, plus or minus a few inches of frost. (Have you seen the latest weather reports for Montreal? It's colder here than on Mars, people.)

And since the more things change, the more they stay the same, why not kick off the blog-year with a book recommendation. "WHAT HAS SHE BEEN READING??" the masses fall over themselves to ask. Calm down, I'll tell you!

*Technically* the first book I squint-read (because sometimes your glasses are way in your bag and you just don't give a fuck about getting them are too enthralled by the written word to move) in 2015 was The Most of Nora Ephron, but I'm reluctant to crown it my First Book of the Year because, well, I was finishing it, not starting. My stubborn honor system (read: weirdo OCD) is to blame, you see.

Thus, I designated Green Girl by Kate Zambreno to be my first.

And wouldn't you know it? This book is omfg so good.

Let me admit something right up top and risk revealing my sometimes superficial nature: I didn’t know what this book was about when I bought it. Sometimes stars align and, in the same week, Kelly Oxford AND Lena Dunham post instagram photos of the same book. THIS book. After patting myself on the back for such clear mental/social media acuity (aka IG creeping like a pro), I figured it must be worth a read.

So far (200/275 pages in), I figured right.

If your literary bag includes stories about youngish, confused girls who appear to run from or dodge their personal issues, then Green Girl is worth your time. Things are pretty dark, critical (largely by way of the characters' lipsticked-yet-hollow posturing), and narrated by a character of ambiguous origin/identity (I have two hunches).

Sometimes the story reads like stream of consciousness as it delves into the emotional and psychological well-being of its leading lady. (Before eyes start rolling, TRUST ME, I couldn't/wouldn't read anything too lofty/hyper-cerebral, so don't let that last phrase turn you off.) It's also a fast read (I'm reluctant to call it an easy one), so bonus. Overall, I'm real pleased.