2 artists in a bar and then one goes to space

While I was shooting this, the owner of the distillery behind me commented on how I must like their walls because he'd seen me there before. I laughed, yes, I do!

I was recently interviewed for a show called Two Artists Walk Into a Bar by Carol Mcquaid, a Canadian artist/traveler, a self-described nomad. (The link goes to the webcast; you can subscribe to her podcast as well.)

My first thought when she contacted me was, cool, I'm an artist! Then I thought, but am I really? Then I thought, yeah, yeah, I am! Sometimes it's hard to see yourself for the trees, know what I mean, when you just do what you do.

Before I lost my studio

So what does an artist look like? Pfft, that's an idiotic question. THIS is what an artist looks like, courtesy of the photo filter Noire. The netting on the hat would have to go though. I'd be wearing black sidezip capris and pointy-toe boots. Adding a filter to your life would, in some respects, be so much easier than actually living as an artist.

Mel as quintessential artist person, minus the ciggie and the Dali mustache

(Skip to later if you just want photos, and don't miss my space movie down there)

An artist looks like Salvadore Dali, except in my case minus the mustache. Or a sort of Audrey Hepburn in the 1957 movie Funny Face, her beatnik phase, when she was paired with Fred Astaire. Ugh, I didn't feel the magic but anyway. Often there's a cigarette, but I've used a pencil crayon in a holder instead.

A younger generation probably envisions something completely different having grown up without cursive writing or even the joys of cassette tape Walkmans. ("A walk what?")

And the artist is always starving. Let's just debunk that myth right now: junk food is the cheapest food around and it tastes reeeal good. Chips!

The starving artist is a terrible stereotype! Maybe it's time for resale royalty rights in North America, hmm? Like musicians and novelists, and actors/filmmakers get.

But seriously? What little there is left of the stereotype (style-wise at least) is crumbling - if this image was ever something beyond my own imagination in the first place - especially with new media, which is now old, which is exactly how I feel when I think about how quickly everything is changing. Keeping up is key to feeling young I think.

So back to the interview - Carol asked me where I envision myself in the future. I quickly replied: in a penthouse, living a life where I never have to vacuum again and have a personal chef to cook for me and a personal driver.

I reflected on that answer this week (I reflect on everything later and then freak out), and thought, hey, I must be living the high life already and not even know it because:

1. My current home is really high up; 
2. I could easily never vacuum again (some might argue it's already true);
3. O usually cooks for me (he is afraid of starving if I do it, although I make a mean boiled egg);
4. I have a personal driver but I kindly share space with others on the bus or I go driverless (Skytrain, no driver), or I do enjoy driving myself once in a while (if I'm not in tight leather pants). There's nothing more personal than being the actual person, is there?

Of course, that's about material wealth. What would I envision for me in the truly meaningful sense, although shelter, heat, and food are pretty meaningful. And a sanitation system.

As I said to Carol, I would be doing what I'm already doing but on a bigger scale - videos, or how about a real show or series or movies or a magazine or book, made with other creatives?!! I get dizzy thinking about it. "I'd conquer the world!," she yells from the prow of her private submarine. So that's my other answer to that question. Now, I sometimes feel like that prisoner in the movie Shawshank Redemption, digging his underground escape tunnel with a spoon, for freedom via a sewer pipe. Moving right along.

But again, isn't this kind of like my other penthouse answer? Am I living the dream already? Successful people in interviews often look back on their days before success and say, those were the best days of my life! Okay. I'm trying to get on board with that.

A famous TV series was once filming in a loft complex where O and I were living and they used our suite for a bit. The Big Star sauntered in during a break and said, "You know, this place reminds me of the good old days when I was a struggling actor in New York." How does one respond to that? - wow, you guys are in rough shape, and, hey, isn't it fun? And it was in fact a really nice loft. Everything is relative.

I thrive on the creative stuff I do and am grateful to be able to do it. And I have worked/played at it for a long time. I do or could do all those things I listed right now, but I grin considering the bigger picture, a bigger budget. Heh.

So I'm just putting all this out there as I ponder issues Carol and I discussed during the talk - what it is to be an artist, a model, the imposter syndrome, underwear, and more, for about an hour. It was very laid back and I enjoyed her company. So I invite you to have a listen HERE or via podcast, Two Artists Walk into a Bar. And/or catch some of the other artists she has interviewed. I've enjoyed so many of them.

And now some outfit photos because, you know, style and all. These are just a couple of the things I've worn since my last post.

I farked the jacket. I made it smaller by adding a front diagonal red zipper. You've maybe seen it before.

Vintage men's velvet blazer made in London and faux suede/velvet Parasuco pants. Suzanne clocked the blazer for me when we were at a Toronto thrift store.

And what else? I feel like I've dumped all the stuff from my purse onto the floor and am pulling bits out excitedly to show you. "Oh, look at this, and there's this, and oh, what about this...?!" - a toothpick with writing on it, a piece of forgotten chocolate, a pink tape measure.

I made this video too. As you may know, I recently put together my annual what-I-wore video (see sidebar), found a thread in there and pulled. This came out, especially with the music playing in my head, "Saving the World" by Aaron Kenny. The space photo is by Raphael Nogueira from unsplash.com. O made the space ship; I made it fly. Heh.

I have more stuff to show you but I'll mercifully save it for another post. Till next time.

I hope you are all well, now moving into autumn here, spring for my friends down under. Hellooooo!! I've missed you all. Thanks so much for stopping by, especially if you've made it to the end of this post.

I'll link up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike when everyone is ready. And don't forget, for some of us it's almost time for pumpkin scones (even though they're often made from other gourds, still tasty). Hooray!!!

Edit: I also linked to Anne at Spy Girl. She has a great post with reselling tips by Suzanne.

Ruffled in a frock coat

I've been sequestered in my garrett feverishly toiling on a new symphony in H-minor with none but my pet raven Grasp as a silent companion at the window. This work will break all the records. It'll be huge. Great. Really fantastico. 

But now I am stepping out for refreshment with gentle verse and a forest shower. "O," my giddy soul cries to the heavens, "Dispatch thy muses - and a new rollerball pen." Writing with a feather is fecking annoying. And plucking them from seagulls may even be an offense. Grasp doesn't share either.

Artliness temporarily satisfied, I clamber onto nearby battlements and gaze seaward, brow furrowed (not really, those are just lines). I scan the horizon, searching, searching for my ship, which should be coming in any decade now.

It would be so much easier if it were a jet coming in and not a frigging frigate. And an airport at least has a Food Court where I could hang out. But wait, maybe my ship is a luxury yacht or, gulp, a tanker. I must consult the Manual. Does anyone know where it is? Oh dear!

Still waiting, contemplating more poetry. And owning that wall, I mean battlement (the top of a fortified wall of a castle with holes for shooting from). Bafflements is a good word too to describe a confusing wall or even this blog post.

And what ho? What's this? The royal court has decided to have an official portrait of me painted?

Me looketh upon the artist with suspicion. "O, Painter, be thou forewarned. If thou dost not capture a flattering likeness, I shall lop off thine head." (Why must I stick my hand in the jacket like that?)

In fact, I would prefer a non-likeness, so not to worry. And we would go out for martinis and pickles and swap stories on where to get good rollerballs and plumes, if not provided deus ex machina (unexpected godly intervention that saves the day), which is always my preferred method.

I love this aubergine frock coat with ruffles and my Partridge Family pants.

This outfit is a definite time-slipper. I conceived it for chasing bad guys with Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, a movie which features the phrase, "Groovy, baaaaby," spoken with a toothy grin. But on this light-rain day it morphed from Austin Powers to Jane Austen.

Details of the blouse. I wore suspenders with the pants too.

I have been possessed by ruffles and blazers (and frock coats) for almost a year now. Finally, I farked this thrifted Asos blouse by adding ruffles around the collar and sleeves, and down the front. There's even netting behind the base layer for body and lift, although that was original to the blouse, I confess.

Now I shall fark all my blouses! I would happily wear ensembles like this every single day, although I would need a hound and maybe a horse. I already have a sports car (as you can see in the video clip link in the right sidebar) and a toothy grin.

I went to another play with Mara, the opening night of Shakespeare's Coriolanus at Bard on the Beach, front row, where we were right in the heat of battle. Clearly, its influence has spilled into this blog post.

I had never been so close to "violence" before, even feigned. The blood and wounds looked pretty convincing, which made me ponder even more the tragically flawed nature of our species.

The story is timeless: ruthless power-seekers contend with colleagues, family, foes, and poor people hungry for a good line. Sigh. In this play, all the people really want is corn. Is that so hard? The lead role is gender-switched to female and played brilliantly and breathlessly by Moya O'Connell. The play runs until Sep. 21 on the Howard Family Stage in the Douglas Campbell Theatre. Check HERE. (Not sponsored)

I debuted my farked blouse with this outfit that night. Mara debuted a coat that she farked with red paint too. Stunning.

And, finally, I put together my third annual (plus a few months) compilation video of what I wore 2018/2019. Click the photo or HERE to watch the video on Instagram. You don't have to be a member of IG to watch it though.

That's it for this week.

Oh, except I opened a new page with lots of my sketches HERE featuring Ternip Hedd (changed the spelling to avoid conflict). Most of these sketches you've seen on Bag'n'B; a few may be new.

I'll be linking to Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb when the time is right.

Cheers, everyone. How does your ship come in? Land? Sea? Air? Carrier pigeon? Ether? Curious minds want to know.

The question of smiling, fake serious faces, and authenticity

"SMILE!" We all know that yelp before a casual photo. Or "SAY CHEESE!" Time to fake smile. Oh wow, look how much fun I'm having! Hey, my life is awesome!

I am now a proficient fake smiler and even fake laugher, a result of years of rigorous training. Doing this convincingly in "real" life is a whole other blog post.

But the opposite of a forced smile is forced seriousness, which is just as fake as the smile but maybe easier to pull off. Without this pose, I wonder if high fashion would even exist. It's simply the relaxed face with a dash of intention or self-awareness.

I suppose when you drop a whack-ton of money on a Chanel suit, it's serious business. My face upon spending such sums would probably look like the Psycho shower scene, if I'm still conscious at all. And then there are those who live in rarefied air who don't even blink. Sigh. I'd like to try on that face some day for realsie, and I'd have my personal assistants pose for me.

Me (with camera to assistants): Just relax and show how happy you are working for me. Did you not hear me? I said &*#(@6 HAPPY!! 

The Zoolander face is the absolute best example of the fake serious face: the sucked in cheeks, exaggerated pout, and squinched eyes. And an inner growl which probably only dogs can hear. (Zoolander is a movie that spoofs high fashion.)

For me, the fake laugh often leads to a real one and the fake super-serious face does too, but does a fake serious face lead to a real serious face? I hadn't thought about it until just now. I would guess no, although wretched photos do inspire real-life serious faces, if grimaces or frowns qualify.

Even the effects of gravity on a face, especially jowls, can mimic a serious face, which usually translates into a real-life one too because it is so fecking annoying! Does that make it a high-fashion face? Hardly. But there are sometimes scary faces strutting down runways, not due to physics but the gravity of the situation I suppose.

About the outfit - my friend Mara (I've written about her before HERE) drew my eye to these pieces on the super summer discount rack at a local consignment store, a dusty rose suedine (ultrasuede) dress by Dutch brand 10 Feet and this sheer nude trench coat/dress thing by Mint Velvet. 

You can see the sunscreen on my nose as I didn't bring my parasol. Friends have often reminded me I must blend it in but I always forget and it's hard to notice indoors before I go out.

 

I think models fake laughing as they strut down a runway might be just as surreal as models with serious faces. It's all part of a role anyway; otherwise, it would be called people walking nowhere indoors in a straight line.

All of this begs the question: is there such a thing as authentic? Is that ever enough? How do we know when we look real authentic as opposed to fake authentic? Maybe we need an app for that. Lie detector machines have tried and still fail.

I enjoy finding the sweet spots in between the poses, the off-guard moments, which, if I am successful, I may try to wrest into a repeatable formula thereby ruining them. And it's too bad that the candids are also often the ones I don't want to share. There's genuine and there's too genuine. I like a bit of curation. Can't I have my cake and eat it too!?

Maybe everything is an illusion. Maybe the idea of an "authentic look" is not possible anymore with ever increasing photo moments in our daily lives, like we're running on some joke of a cosmic loop of "say cheese." We survey life through the lenses of cameras, our own, others', and surveillance which so far we don't feel the need to pose for (she wrote, looking nervously around the room with a stiff grin on her face).

I'll link up to Patti at Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb. I hope I'll see you there.

Finally, I have recently been in a Canada-wide ad campaign for Shopper's Drug Mart, part of The Beauty Project they're running until September 6, HERE and a video HERE. If you go into one of their stores (or online), chances are you'll see me in photos and/or a bunch of little videos. Just imagine that I'm encouraging you to try a new look! Filming was a great experience, in Toronto on two occasions this summer.

So have a look if you can. Let me know what you think. I put two of the photos on my IG, here and here.

That's it, seriously, authentically, maybe. Cheers, everyone!!

The giant Vancouver mind-meld with friends

It's no longer a blogger meetup; it's a gathering of friends who happen to blog. That's what happens when you start to know women as well as I have come to know Suzanne Carillo, Patti, and Sherry. Sue was of course also included in our weekend, and although she is not in these photos at her request, she was part of our group, twice joining us for the day.

photo by @vancouverbarbara

Below, the excitement as my friends started arriving at Blue Horizon Hotel on Robson Street, who sponsored our stay (see previous post). Sherry and Patti came in the same taxi. How serendipitous that the bus in the background says Vancouver Community College, VCC, because I had to run down there that morning to pick up some awesome outfits that their Fashion Design & Production students had custom-made me during a collaboration. I thought they might be fun for our shoot - and they were!

Sherry wears a blue-cord overall dress that she made herself. So good!

This year we went a bit more "pro" for our photo shoot. My friend Suzy Thomas, @thasooze (IG), a career makeup artist, came to our room at Blue Horizon and did our faces. What a master! As Suzanne said, it was like a face lift with makeup. Too bad it had to wash off, but like the old samurai saying, we must appreciate the beauty of falling cherry blossoms. Or, did I just make that up?

Suzy working her magic on the already-magical Sherry.

In hindsight, we all seemed to have signature poses for the weekend. Clockwise from top-left: Suzanne, the kiss face; Mel, constantly trying to perfect my Zoolander face and FAILING - you open your mouth to simulate stupefaction, then suck in your cheeks for a high-fashion model look; Sherry, Godspell meadow sprite; Patti, '20s Broadway doyenne. 

Once our makeup was done, @vancouverbarbara (IG) joined as a photographer at the hotel, which offered a range of great locations. The newly-renovated pool and fitness area were our primary stages.

Below we are rehearsing for our new movie Pose Hard, a gripping suspense about middle-aged women on a chocolate-fueled selfie rampage through Vancouver. Madam Goochie, a friend of Sherry, was the costume designer.

photo by @vancouverbarbara

Patti is wearing an iridescent stretchy vinyl top designed and made by VCC students Armita Azadmanesh @armita.bl,Victoria Stephenson, and Kiera West @kierawest. The Elizabethan thick vinyl ruff collar and skirt were made by Nataly Kingsley, Cayce Vanderzalm @caycescustoms, and Shadi Arastehmanesh @shadi.arastehmanesh.arts. I'm preparing a separate post about these pieces.

More rehearsal. I'm terribly disappointed that Suzanne and Sherry aren't posing harder, harder!! Twirl, ladies! Twirl HARDER!! Feel the burn!

photo by @vancouverbarbara

I look pensive because I am riding for a cause. Invisible thought bubble: apple rhubard crisp, apple rhubard crisp, apple rhubard crisp. Yeah, Abode restaurant off the hotel lobby area had great food, especially dessert. I should have been riding that bike for real!

photo by Suzy via Sherry, I think

Suzanne fake-testing the water. The pool area was wonderful! We didn't bring our suits and weren't ready to pose in our scanties, nor was the public ready for that, so this is what you get. So very ultra-high-fashion, right? Doing something totally wrong yet so right.

Patti does a Broadway number poolside. Standing ovations from everyone, heaps of bouquets, and sworn allegiances. This is a great shot of the outfit too, but it only came to life because Patti wore it so divinely and with disciplined fortitude. She was definitely hot under the collar. (groan, heh)

photo by @vancouverbarbara

Next, me, pre-shoot, hair in clips for extra sproing. And you can see the makeup job Suzy did. Another failed Zoolander face. I'll call it Melander. 

photo by Sherry

Lounging by the poolside, as one does.

photo by @vancouverbarbara

In this next photo, Suzanne misbehaved. Some may mistakenly think she is trying to steal my shoes. No! She is trying to steal my thunder by hauling me off the deck so she can hog the spotlight! Typical. Hahaha. And I was right in the middle of my Burt Reynolds tribute medley!

photo by @vancouverbarbara

But I got my revenge on them all! Bwahahaha!!! Heh.

And secrets revealed: Patti and Sherry are royals. Shhhhh. Yes. They really don't want anyone to know, so their secret is safe here. This lobby chair was their substitute throne for the weekend. I love how they can pretend to be commoners while maintaining their blue-blood dignity and hauteur.

Sherry was highly displeased upon discovering that the shop had just painted her '63 Ferrari GTO in gumdrop green rather than the paisley print she had ordered. Patti, her royal sister (and Broadway doyenne), is tired of dealing with her whims, so bought her a helicopter coated in unpaintable 24K gold.

The Royal Portrait

My grandmother hand-made me the collar Sherry is wearing over 40 years ago, I think. This is probably only the second time it's been worn, the first time maybe for rollerskating. Definitely it will be worn more now.

And some random shots from our time together.

Many thanks to: 

• @vancouverbarbara for her photography;
• @thasooze Suzy for her dazzling makeup skills and photo-taking; 
• Blue Horizon Hotel for the room they generously sponsored; 
• Sam, Manager of My Sister's Closet eco thrift boutique for her hospitality during a thrifting expedition there; 
• VCC for creating such amazing clothing; and 
• my friends for coming all the way to Vancouver. 

I feel like this is an acceptance speech. Hahaha. Yeah, acceptance of how awesome everyone is and the power of positive energy. For more coverage, check out Suzanne's post here, Patti's post here, and Sherry's post here, complete with video

Have a great week, everyone. If you're one of many starting to wonder why you keep blogging, this weekend is one reason I'm still here. The connections I've made with like-minded cool people on this platform and in real life are irreplaceable. 

I'll link something up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday. 

photo by Sam, Manager at My Sister's Closet @msc_bwss (IG)

My big screen debut, a contest, Female Trouble, and more

Bing. I'm back!!

I'd show you holiday photos if I'd actually been on a holiday in the last month, but all the travelling I have done lately has been in my head - and I know that if I showed you photos of that, you would all get motion sickness. 

So here I'll show you what I've been wearing since I last wrote.

Kids loved those sunglasses. So did I. Especially with my space-age helmet hair.

The sweater in the next photo was a gift from British brand HADES, pure virgin lamb's wool, hand-made in Scotland. HADES offers several sayings, but this is my fave of the bunch. The retro font is reminiscent of the zany '60s movie Where Angels Go, Trouble Follows with Rosalind Russell. I didn't even know there was a John Waters movie by this name from 1974. Oh woe. I must see it.

In this outfit I felt like I was on a movie set. That's my script beside me (not really, it's my Glitter Barbie sketch pad I bought in Greece, which I use as a clipboard when I attend press events).

And more stuff.

I don't know how that greenie-brown XXL boiler suit made it into my closet. Secret interloper! Maybe it seduced me with its huge baggy sloppiness in a moment of weakness. I'm sure that's it.

Sleuthing aside, I did something very terrifying in my absence. And I failed at it really, really badly in a good way.

I entered a video in a competition by CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corp) called Next Up for amateur standup comedians, un-agented and previously unpaid. Except I'm not quite stand-up. I'm more La-Z-Boy really. I only did two takes because otherwise I would have chickened out. That's my excuse; I'm sticking to it. I could have hidden this, but there is misery in numbers. Right?

Rules for viewing:
Don't feel guilty or bad if you don't like it. For feck's sake, please don't be happy if you don't like it. And don't laugh either. Well, you can laugh but not in a mean way. If you start to feel mean, go to Suzanne's blog here; she's the one who told me about the contest. Hahaha. Now I'm laughing.

It is extremely painful to try to be funny alone in one's room, without music or a laugh track. Ask Sherry at Petite Over 40 because we made a mini Laugh-In show called LOL 40-Up. "Total fecking silence," to quote a line from Steve Buscemi in one of my favourite movies, Fargo. See the scene here, with Russian overdubbing!

Ten finalists have been selected, excluding moi, but including lots of women. Right on!! Have a look and a laugh. Finalists. You can browse all the entries here #CBCNextUp. Clearly my piece is more monologue than stand-up, but I was happy just to get my video out there. I figure that was a 10 on the experiential freak-yourself-out-for growth chart.

______________________________________

AND, I made a sponsored video for Talize Thrift store which I posted on Instagram. My friend Elizabeth Zvonar helped with camera work. Lots of fun. I am not under any obligation to post it here, but click the picture if you want to see it.

AND, finally, the real movie I was in, the documentary Keep It In The Streets, written and directed by Everett Bumstead, is now playing on YouTube, 70 min. Everett and Sam, who was also instrumental in the project, are awesome. Experimental art film. I am honoured to have been a part of this. I hope you get a chance to watch. Their heart is in every scene. Click the photo to go to YouTube.

And that's it from me for now. I'm going to have a fun mini meetup tomorrow! Can't wait.

I'll link up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike when they come up next.

Keep cool, my friends.
As always, thank you for visiting!!

Thwarting crime in a red catsuit

Below I am in my atelier having cocktails with James Bond (the Sean Connery one). I am smiling because he just thanked me for my stellar work at the hidden volcano last week when I thwarted the plans of the bad guys. 

In reply, I winked and said, "You'll have to work harder if you want to keep up with me, Jim." He smiled back devilishly, tipped his glass, and said, "Perhaps I'll have another." He was drinking wheatgrass, good for the digestion.

"On the rocks, Jim, or neat?" I asked as I sauntered over to the wet bar and popped another carton. "By all means, neat and shaken," he said. It was awkward shaking his green drink after I'd already opened it, but I'm trained for emergencies. I filled a glass and withheld a retch. 

I decided to be dirty and popped a few olives in as well - they were hard to see in the putrid green fluid. And stuck in a bamboo straw because plastic ones are ruining the planet. Finally, on a whim I fished a bag of frozen corn from the freezer where I also keep vodka and old blue jeans.

"Here you go, Jim." He smiled at the bobbing olives. I said, "Next time, be more careful," and dropped the corn on his knee. He winced and saluted.

"Well, I'll leave you to your dirty wheatgrass. I must go. No, don't get up. There's a joystick in the arm there. This chair will take you wherever you want. Mind the wheels under the skirt." And I was off.

I set my hoverboard on High. I had to hurry if I wanted to be on time at city hall to receive the key to the city. That's me below, ready to shake hands with the mayor. The key is ginormous and gold-plated, very unwieldy. In a press scrum after the ceremony I asked the mayor if he could possibly exchange the key for a small fob. My catsuits don't have pockets.

Then I asked, "Where's the door for this key anyway?" "Whaaa...?" the mayor spluttered. His eyes bulged in alarm. "Well, uh, well, I don't know, really." He swiped his sweaty forehead with the palm of his hand. Eeew. "It's got to be around somewhere. It's the key to the city for f#@$'s sake!" He snapped his fingers and was immediately enveloped by consultants in boring suits.

When the mayor turned back to the press, his fists were raised. "Nobody builds a giant door to my city and I don't know about it!" he proclaimed. "I'll get to the bottom of this!" Cameras flashed. The mayor posed. And I knew I had my next big assignment.

I may need help. I hoped Jim hadn't left yet but remembered with relief that I had Johnny English on speed dial. (Johnny English, spoof Brit spy played by Rowan Atkinson, read here.)

And below, on my way home I stopped at the studio to practise my go-go dancing. Of course it is a requisite skill for all international women of action, which is so unfair. Many international male stars just sit around acting like misogynist pigs. 

In fact, I received a dance caution on a previous job, my guest appearance on LOL 40-UP! show, which Sherry Dryja of blog Petite Over 40 and I made. It's on our IGs, here, here, and here. Plus Bloopers, here. 

Sherry and I had a BLAST!! shooting LOL 40-UP, modeled after the Laugh-In comedy TV series from the '70s. Sherry was in Seattle; I was in Vancouver. But we found a way. It stretched our tolerance of bad jokes and our editing skills. Thanks, Sherry, for coming up with such a freaking fun idea. And thanks to O for his tolerance when our home was blanketed in green screen. The dance clip was made from some green screen takes I made for the show.

I'm wearing my Gordi of Montreal vintage red wool catsuit with rear zip. I always get into trouble when I wear it.

You know what's funny? Although I am a social butterfly, sometimes I feel stuck in the wormy stage, too many feet without enough gorgeous shoes to go around. Slow-moving, hairy, and squishy, particularly in winter. Better than being a mealworm though, which just turns into a beetle.

There was a study which showed no difference between mealworms fed styrofoam for one month and those fed "conventional" food. I'll take the dirty wheatgrass. Who thinks of these experiments? And are they hiring? (That was on Wiki, by the way, but there was a note stating the claim needs a reliable source. Ya think?)

It's a new year since I posted last. I hope you are all well-rested after any holidays you may have had. It's a year for creativity, caring, and humour, you betcha. Big hugs to all of you. Thank you for coming back to Bag and a Beret after this break. I'm very grateful.

I'll be linking up to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine's #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb. I may see you there!

Hang on to your hoverboards, everyone! Two-thousand nineteen is going to be quite a ride!

ONE MORE THING!!

If you are in a style rut, my friend Sylvia of 40+ Style will be offering some awesome courses to help you feel fabulous. Click the image for details. For her paid courses I get a commission, but you know I never promote stuff like this unless I think it's absolutely awesome. And it is!!! Hurry!!! The Style Challenge is free and on NOW!

Faux fur dress and leather pants

PEACE FOR ALL OF US!!! YAY!!! That's the grand hope, the dream.

You may note that I have boosted my font. I was so tired of that weeny eeny font. What was I thinking?! Of course that original font setting happened six years ago when I thought reading glasses were an option, not a requirement. Hahaha!! 

I frickin' love this outfit. The dress is courtesy of my friend Shelley, Forest City Fashionista, who has graced this blog many a time for her style, humour, intelligence, and friendship. The dress is faux fur, grey, with a lightning-bolt-type overlay on the front. I call it my Flintstones meets David Bowie meets Lost in Space Dress.

The groovy tights love this shift dress. I hoisted the hem a bit to show you a little psychedelic leg action. Heh. The boots, also groovalicious, I got at Value Village a little while ago, stretch leather, made in Italy, new condition. The earrings are from a great haul I had a couple of years ago at My Sister's Closet eco thrift boutique, proceeds to the Battered Women's Shelter Services.

And next - ta dah!! This is the director's edit of my new video, slightly longer than the IG version.

My new video! 

This was a fun challenge to film with a tripod - just one indoor take and two outside. I didn't have time to fark around because people were walking up and down the sidewalks. 

When I was trying to get up from the bench, a couple of concerned women nearby almost came over to give me a hand. I was impressed because it meant my acting was convincing - I can in fact move in these pants, kind of. Next time, I need a sign that says, "No, it's just tight leather pants. But thanks." 

When I bought these pants they had little rips in the seams by the knees from a former owner who apparently also had navigational difficulties. I put clear tape over them. Fixed!! I'll get around to a proper repair sometime.

Above, the full outfit.

And look, I'm windsurfing! In the stairwell! Seriously, who wants the fuss of annoying wind, water, wetsuits, towels, know-how, and a windsurfing board? This is the only way to do sports.

One final shot with my Partridge Family Baggies, which I also wore last week, and my Jamin Puech bag. Every time I carry this bag I whip it around. I know I should be more reserved with it, seeing as how it's a high fashion brand and all, but who says high fashion can't be whipped about with joy too, right? A good whipping-about of one's clothes is testament to it's joy factor, I say.

That's all for this time. I'll link up with Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike.

I raise a toast to everyone. May you feast and be merry. And whether you celebrate a specific holiday or not, the sales on unsold sweets will soon be upon us, and that's definitely something to celebrate. Hurray!

Thanks so much for visiting. Hugs all around.