It wasn't very late but already it was dark on Granville Island. My partner O and I have been heading there more regularly now that the crowds have dissipated, taking the Aquabus over in lieu of the car (or my yacht or private luxury submarine). Riding that cute boat (HERE) makes me feel like I'm on holiday.
As soon as November 1 hit, the Christmas/holiday lights came on. The mood was moony, crisp, and blue. O got some great photos. (I was always bummed when on the TV series Gilligan's Island the castaways didn't believe Ginger's prediction that they will be rescued when the moon is blue, read about it HERE.)
This next moon shot O took from our window in late July, but it reflects the feeling of this post so I asked to use it. Don't confuse this moon shot with shooting the moon; that is not my moon. Or with any rocket moon-shot attempts, although I was feeling rather spacy.
I remember going to the Vancouver Space Centre's Planetarium, a 360-degree theatre, in about 1984, to watch the Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon show. Trippy. Wonderful - all dreams an arm's length away. Sometimes still are, or even closer.
Still wishing on a star, even if it's only in LEDs. I'm wearing my Emporio Armani suit and man shoes from My Sister's Closet, jacket from Yuzhe Studios, a gift a couple of years ago, and a blouse from last year's flea market at West Vancouver United Church.
Then yesterday (a relative term) I dressed like the moon or a marshmallow, below. You decide. Or even Mr. Clean, a cartoon character dressed in white to advertise household cleaning products on TV. Yes, an animated version of myself is definitely required for handling household cleaning supplies.
I don't need a cartoon version of myself to handle marshmallows, although if I went all paranomal I would resemble the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from the movie Ghostbusters HERE.
Of course, these are "autumn" whites, and then in a month or so they will be "winter" whites. In summer, they are simply whites. In every season I am Mel, Mel, Mel, and Mel or Melanie, depending on my mood. At the coffee shop, my name could be Cleo or Krissy or something else entirely; it would depend on my mood as well, not the seasons, which may in fact affect my mood.
In point of fact, I have never used a fake name at a coffee shop. I would feel like a scofflaw, like I'm walking through a crosswalk when the red hand is flashing!!! But I shall start, even though the baristas pretty much all know my real name. If they raise their brows I'll say: A) the truth is not the truth, walk away in a huff, and look back to see if their brows go even higher; or B) (shout) YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!, like Jack Nicholson in that annoying movie, A Few Good Men.
It's amazing how much drama you can wring out of the simple act of ordering coffee.
I discovered when I got home that the faux leather has started flaking badly in the armpits. Sweat is bad enough but toxic sweat now? This aging thing sucks! And then I noticed it around the elbows too. Phew, in a way. At least I don't think I have toxic-sweating elbows. The jacket looked fine when I went out, but the stress of movement must have triggered the peeling.
The jacket was packed in a vacuum-sealed bag for a few months, as was another faux leather jacket that also started flaking. The bags do not warn against storing faux leather in them, but I suspect the packing, not simply fabric quality, played a hand in this premature deterioration. I'll roll with the flaws and try to make more flaking, like it was meant to be like this. Flaking farking or maybe even painting will be required. Just like with my face and hair.
And a final set of photos, also taken by O on Granville Island a little while ago, not posted on my blog before.
I belled those bottoms myself, bottoms as in pant legs, bell as in ding dong. The coat is by Danier, a defunct Canadian leather goods store, a generous gift from Shelley a year or so ago. I call it high-muppet, rock-star glamour.
This next shot might go on the cover of my new 8-track cassette.
And in OTHER NEWS
Nordstrom Canada has just released its national holiday-season campaign, and there I am, along with many of my cast mates from the Toronto shoot. I won't go on and on about it - I don't want to bore you with the details - but it was another grand adventure. Have a look.
And they also posted a making-of video, behind the scenes. Check out that snow. It was a hot day in August. Gotta love that movie magic.
Finally, since Bag and a Beret is kind of like my very own magazine, I have decided to finish this post with a festive, theme-related recipe. Don't feel bad if you can't replicate it in your own homes - this is not for the novice chef.
I give you Moon Egg.
The trick is in the cooking time and the temperature of the boiling water. In fact, rather than depress you with the complexities of the recipe, I shall leave you to gaze at the perfection of my own culinary skills. Also good with Swiss cheese and a cow jumping over it.
Now I don't know whether to arrive at the linkups early this time or say I was too late for the last ones. Augh. I shall link up to Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike when it goes live too.
Tra-la!
Do you use fake names? Spill - your secrets, not your coffee, unless it's fruity-tasting. Pitui!
