Bare arms, plunging necklines, and tower hair, oh my

My arms are bare and I'm starting to be okay with that again. I was a bit wobbly (heh) for a while. Pfft. Bring. It. On! 

Grizas sent this dress and matching jacket to me over a year ago, April 2018, and I wrote about it here and even made a tiny video. 

I've said it before, I'll never be as young as I am right now, and if I already cover my arms, what will be left to show of my entire body in the years ahead? It's not about the body; it's about what's in the body, so go do something amazing. Go on!! - I tell myself.

And below, another thing I wore this week: my acid orange jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and no coverup top underneath - it's a first. And arms showing. It was just so dang hot and this jumpsuit was so dang cool I had to do it. After about five minutes I forgot about the neckline completely.

It was a good hair day when I wore my dress. Really, when my hair is sticking up all over the place I have yet to figure out what, from someone else's perspective, would constitute a bad tower hair day. "Uh, Mel, your hair is sticking up there." To capture said hair I went down to the Art Gallery for some photos and took the little step stool to sit on.

Exhibit A: Hair.

My hair is on the cusp of falling over so I have to enjoy every good hair day left before another Big Chop.

And below, the matching jacket. I feel like I'm sitting for a Sears portrait. Heh. Sears is/was a big North American department store, which always seems on the brink of collapse these days. And bye-bye Barneys - almost. At least they are keeping their New York flagship stores open.

I even brought my rockstar shirt from O and a vintage tie. I switched out the heels for my slip-on Converse running shoes.

Somehow the baggy crotch of the jumpsuit balances out the neckline. I also put on the diamond encrusted meteorite pendant as a distraction from the plunging neckline. That was kind of a big fail - it's big, shiny, and positioned right at the lowest point of the plunge - but it made me happy.

SWOOOOSH!!! You can see a bit of pylon or traffic cone in the corner. Coordinating perfectly. I can't lace the top lace holes of my shoes unless I wear socks because the sandals bite my ankles, and I didn't think socks would go.

And why not a kick to show you that this is not a dress. It's an even cooler jumpsuit!

The parasol was given to me by Lily-Lark last year. I often go out with it to protect from the sun. I went to the Art Gallery again. I love the light up there.

And the Pride Parade was last Sunday. I wasn't in the mood to dive into the crowds so I hung out on the periphery in a cafe and sketched in my journal, as I do. That photo below is two photos stuck together. I didn't have my tripod or camera so this is the best I could do with the phone. It still freaks me out taking photos on a phone.

That's been my week. How has yours been?

I'm too late for Patti's Visible Monday, dang! (word of the day), but I'll skedaddle over to Catherine's #iwillwearwhatilike, at Not Dressed as Lamb. See you there!! 

Stay cool, my friends. 

Time-travel wear, party wear, nail art, and film debut

Flash Gordonia. Aaa-ah. Caped crusader!

Oh my goodness - I'm in the time-warp tunnel, fleet-footed in my awesome velvety-soft, blue, studded-heel platform sandals made for this exact purpose: "For fleet-footed running in time-warp tunnels," it's right there on the box. 

These are the same shoes I wore to the Nordstrom launch party for their True Nord ad campaign, which I blogged about in my previous post, here. That was more an out-of-body travel experience to Cloud 9 than a time warp. Make sure you also check out Shelley's writeup of the event on Forest City Fashionista, here.

As you can see, these sandals are the perfect all-round transportation device for any determined foot passenger. I highly recommend them as a neutral wardrobe staple that can be worn with all outfits with confidence and joie de vivre (French for "exuberant enjoyment of life").

Below is a flat lay of the full outfit I wore to the launch, except I forgot to include my Ribkoff clutch bag. Drats! 

Note the groovy sunglasses, eh? Nordstrom's personal stylist Farah picked them out for me. We had a blast putting together this outfit. Plus, red is very suitable for a Canada-themed ad campaign because our flag is red and white, although this dress is slightly orangy red. Actually, paisley, florals, beige, and plaids are also very patriotic because we get to wear whatever we damned well like. Heh.

What I particularly love about this dress are the long bell sleeves, the maxi length, and the rufflies along the cuffs and hemline. Again, see previous post, here. I had neon orange nail polish professionally applied to finish the look, but I didn't get a photo.

The clutch is partially visible in the next shot. It's got a pearly iridescent shine and zipper trim detailing.

Photo by Shelley, Forest City Fashionista. It's the only one with shades.

All of these pieces are available in Nordstrom's online shop: Simon Miller dress, earrings (on sale), sunglasses, clutch. This post is not sponsored and I don't get paid a penny if you click or buy anything (insert Lucille Ball-type Waaaa!!! here). I'm just sayin'. But I did receive the outfit as a gift for the party.

I customized the shoes by painting the studs on the heels with nail polish. The shoe design is a riff on a vintage sandal style, but through my rose-tinted sunglasses, they are badass Elton John.

The rib-knit fabric of the dress lends itself to high and low styling. Below is a more casual combo. I could also wear an oversized pullover and/or pants with it, although not the matching pants as shown in the online shop, too matchy for me.

Vivid reds always blow out on my camera. Vexing. Anyone know how to deal with that?

And below. I was sitting at my desk one night when O presented me two almost-invisible filaments with tiny, tiny red balls on the end that glistened like fish eggs. 

Hahaha. I insisted that we take photos for here and my Instagram. These antennae bend like willows in a breeze. And while they were really stuck on there, one would need to rely on one's maid to carry one's shoes about and do all the housework. I'm going to wear these everyday now! Although I'll have to rehire myself in preparation for the extra workload.

In the next shot I feel like a Vespa-riding secret agent in Moscow or London during the 1960s. Don't we all feel like that from time to time? The antennae activate my high-tech GPS tracking device (it's only the '60s, remember). I must accomplish my mission - if I could remember what it is. My memory seems not to have returned from Cloud 9.

You can see more of O's art on his website, and he sells magic loupes and rings in his Etsy store, OSK Micro-art Studio. He constantly amazes me with his imagination.

And one more thing:

KEEP IT IN THE STREETS documentary update

You might recall that I was in a feature-length documentary called Keep It in the Streets by Everett Bumstead and Sam Koopman, which I blogged about HERE. It's a skater/arthouse/street photography/Humans of New York (Vancouver) film and plans were to premiere it on the film fest circuit.

Well, in the following video, Sam and Ev share a startlingly heartfelt evaluation of where the film is at and their direction in filmmaking. "Make yourself feel awkward every day," Ev says, and, "I feel like an idiot all the time." These are men after my own heart.

They may be feeling down but they're definitely not out! You can subscribe to them on their YouTube channel and IG. There will be a premiere of Keep It on the Streets on the big screen, perhaps soon, and when that day comes, I hope all of you will join me, Sam, Ev and the other cast and crew to celebrate. Moving, timeless works about the human condition never go out of style.

There may even be collaborations with Ev and Sam in the near future as well. Stay tuned!

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

THANK YOU for all your cheering on my big adventure. Hahaha!! You guys are THE BEST!!! We can move mountains together - although bulldozers are fun too. And those super-mega-earth moving machines too. And tunnel-boring machines.

Tell me your secret mission.

Safety wear for the stylish woman

We were walking in tandem, me on one side of the fence, the construction guy on the other. He looked over and said, "That could be a safety vest."

I replied, "Yes, it is!"

Well, technically it's a life jacket so I get double the protection of a mere vest.

This paillette jacket protects me from psychic debris. Whew. There is so much of it around!

With my construction gear I'm wearing my rockstar pants, which are thrifted low-riders that I upcycled with Sharpie markers and acrylic paint, featured several times on Bag'n'B. They were noticed by Paul Stanley of the band KISS the first time I wore them. I was in a shoe store and oblivious to his presence, but my friend Sandra of standard.deviations clued me in later. I'm bummed that I didn't get the chance to ask him for pointers on how to wear platform boots with aplomb and his favourite makeup remover. I love that guy!

And I'm wearing my upcycled T-shirt, "I am my own brand," which I would change to "I am NOT a brand" if I were to do it again. Those are my super-duper discounted Topshop platform sandals.

Below I'm raising my arms to the universe. I was in the concrete studio but I digitally edited myself into a photo I took of the beach the other day.

Schlep schlep schelp schelp seems to be the little cartoon sound of my feet as they release from the hard reality suction of the concrete sidewalk. Each step schlep. How tiresome. This is also why safety gear is a top priority. One must never get sucked in by hardness!

Other protective construction pieces I wore recently.

That outfit features a vintage dress with a tulip hem. It's a fairly substantial brocade fabric, fully lined, too big and heavy for a dress, so I snipped it up the front and turned it into a coat. The sparkly owl pendant is from Patti of Not Dead Yet Style.

And I almost always go out with one of my parasols from Lily-Lark.

Below are my "safety" glasses, which I got from Vint & York in New York. They make me feel like a psychiatrist with panache and a love of the arts. Don't ask me why. Sandra, standard.deviations, thrifted that Maison Martin Margiela for H&M wool darted jacket. Sweeeet. Ever grateful to her.

And of course, I also wore this:

And then when I get home I unwind with Kitty.

Those are the highlights of my week, my friends. Remember: Always suit up. Always protect yourself from those harmful rays of negativity.

I'm linking up to Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike.

What do you use for safety gear?!

Paillettes, the new alternative energy

"Fill 'er up!" glug glug glug (sound of drinking)

"Aaaah, much better."

That's an actual photo below. Just this sliver of light hitting the alley just right. You should see my elevator when I climb aboard in this jacket. It's like a mega mini disco partay. Woo hoo! Going to get frozen corn! But those moves are nothing compared to when I go buy broccoli.

It was stellar day for photos. Rain? Sun? Rain? Sun? The sky couldn't make up its mind, so I happily chased shadows and light in this alley with my tripod.

I adore these vintage palazzo pants, fully lined, with an aligned pattern at the front as well - I love those details. I bought them a couple of years ago for a song because they needed some TLC. So glad to do it! And I finally took them in. The paillette jacket, a favourite, is from My Sister's Closet.

The elevator may be Bee Gees but these photos remind me of that song: "Blinded by the light, racked up like a douche, like a roller in the night." Heh. It was written by Bruce Springsteen, but below is the Manfred Mann version, 1975, which I prefer.

Of course I had to wear my big blue sunglasses as well. Guaranteed if you wear paillettes you're going to have a great day. Well, kind of a guarantee. I'm going to look for paillette pants now, although they'd crunch when I sit down, or a paillette trench coat. How cool would that be?! Silver. Paillette go-go boots! No paillette underwear though. Just no.

If I could do that kick with rollerskates, I'd think I have real talent. 

I'm not much more than a paillette top half and a paisley palazzo'ed bottom half. That's the way, uh hunh, uh hunh, I like it, uh hunh, uh hunh. You don't know how lucky you are that you can't hear me!

Now I've got a full tank, I'm ready to rumble!!! Just don't touch my threads. Or my hair. Or my sunglasses. Or my body. Or my brownie. Okay, maybe not rumble. How about let's just hang out?  

In other news, I was in Refinery29, talking about style rules; my bit is here. You know how I feel about those, don't you? It's so cool that they asked me, along with six other women. It's funny reading my answers in that context. It's like there's a little megaphone attached to the end of my pen. I can't help myself. Hahaha!!  

And I was in ELLE (Brazil), InStyle (Greece), WhoWhatWear, and Metro.style (Philippines). These are a few since January - I don't keep up very well. And thank you SO MUCH for all your cheering of my Montecristo piece. 

I also met up with Sheila and L in Vancouver this week. We had a blast! Make sure you go to Sheila's blog, Sheila Ephemera, for her Big Ass Weekend Roundup. It's going to be a good one. (She has included photos of this paillette jacket on our meetup day too.) She's been blogging for ten years now. Huge congratulations on that!

L also has a blog, Creative Maelstrom, which has been going strong since 2009. Like Sheila, he is a gifted writer, but his specialty is CD reviews.

That's Sheila and L below, always super styling. I took this photo at Fluevog shoe emporium. They should be gifted shoes for life for their support of the brand. 

I'm linking up with Patti for Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike. 

Until next time. Dress up (well, only if you want to of course) and be fabulous (not an order because I already know you're fabulous). 

How to wear fitted onesies over 55 for high adventure

Give me a purple or red fitted onesie and I'm on, hunting down baddies with headquarters in remote island volcanoes or exploring the Earth as a possible off-planet colony for my People. It happens every time. 

So here I am, still in the purple onesie from the West Vancouver United Church Flea Market, which I posted on here - I took it off in between though. The stirrup feet are miracles because they pull the fabric taut for an overall smoothing effect, which: 1) is calming when wearing a body-con outfit that flirts dangerously with my boundaries of public comfort; 2) provides streamlining for fast, comfortable deep space travel.

But first, let me write about that coat. That frickin' amazing coat from frickin' amazing Shelley of Forest City Fashionista. It came in a bulging envelope last week, along with something else equally amazing, which I am holding back from posting for delayed gratification. 

This photo is called golden leaf

Vivid fuchsia, vivid. By Danier, suede with shaggy fuchsia trim. It's almost (maybe, kinda, if-I'm-feelin'-glass-half-full) long enough for buttoxil area coverage (essential), but I brought along a stretch skirt in case I started feeling exposed, like I did behind the Strip shop below. Aliens must try to blend in.

They say, strip; I say, cover up. I'm practising being human by being unpredictable. Of course I wouldn't need the skirt if I were wearing a maxi coat, but this coat overruled all other outerwear considerations. Plus it has a secret weapon. Read on.

I swoon for that '60s groovy sci-fi vibe. Below, calling the Mother Ship with my Mantis. Or occupants of inter-planetary craft. Either will do, as long as their flight attendants serve Cheez Whiz ("processed cheese spread"), Space Food Sticks, ("developed for the U.S. Space Program"), and gherkin pickles (pickles).

I'm so glad I found this red wall! It's my first time here. These photos remind me of the piece Shelley did for VOGOFF magazine, where she's also calling her Mother Ship. 

The Purple People Eater, video clip, 1958 hit by Sheb Wooley)

When I was passing through Nordstrom during my inspiration walk, I ran into two friends who fell hard for this coat. Of course, I was keen to draw their attention to the glory of my spacesuit onesie as well, so I boldly hoisted the skirt to where no man has gone bef...* Oops, same era/genre, wrong script! To my high thighs to demonstrate its all-in-one-ness, which felt risqué, despite still being fully clothed. Well -

I needn't have worried one bit - they wouldn't have batted an eye if I had begun shooting ping-pong balls from my

Running in the vortex in Ackery's Alley

mouth, been wrapped in tentacles and slathered in Cheez Whiz and pickles - the coat had them in its thrall. They couldn't keep their hands off my cuffs and collar - the hypnotic power of the trim was alarmingly potent. (Note to self: Trim as secret weapon for future invasion strategy.) I almost had to Mantis them!

In the end, I gave up the onesie show and pulled my skirt back into place. Some stars, like the coat, shine brighter than others I suppose. 

Below, more evidence of the Fitted-Onesie Phenomenon (FOP) of super-sleuth/alien: my Emma Peel impression near the passport office, in a photo taken by Sandra Bernabei of Standard Deviations.

I'm wearing my vintage red wool knit onesie with original sewn-in belt at the hip, made by Gordi of Montreal. Also here. The seam threads were disintegrating so I had to resew the whole thing. Well worth it.

Below, a sneak peek in my bedroom. Is it possible I was abducted by one of the Occupants?!

And then I feast on a light breakfast. It's the new alternative energy.

To be clear, this post has been all about the SEO (search engine optimization), but you knew that, right? Now my blog will be inundated with hoards of women over 55 clamouring for tips on FOP. But to be fair, these tips can apply to any age. I'm sorry if I made anyone feel excluded.

That's it for now. I'll be linking up to Patti at Visible Monday on her blog Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike on her blog Not Dressed as Lamb.

May the FOP be with you, friends.

*From the original Star Trek TV series, 1966-69, line from the opening voiceover by Captain James T. Kirk. Relive it HERE.

Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.

Okay, now you'll be humming that opening theme all day. You're welcome. Heh.

Wisecracking in High Heels

I can't believe what I've done! I've made (gulp) an "old" decision, old as in old age. Quick, get my fan and smelling salts on a black and white film set.

How could this have haaaappened? It's not too late to reverse my actions - probably. If I act fast. It's like my whole world has turned upside down. And it PISSES ME OFF!!

The catalyst? The Lourdes Embroidered Platform Heeled Sandals with 5.5-inch heel from Topshop, now 75% off. A mere year or two ago I would have leapt, paid, purred, and slunk home.

This time? I only made it as far as leapt. Then I PUT THEM BACK IN THE BOX!!!! But by god, we bonded in that short time together. I don't even know how I ended up in Topshop in the first place.

Clearly, I've been dipping my toes in -

LOW-HEEL SHOE TERRITORY!

It's a foreign, unfriendly land, full of, uh, low-heel shoes. Blast and damnation!! And why? Well, not because my feet are screaming at me, at least not loudly or daily. No.

I blame it on the season: fall, as in autumn. Insidious subliminal seasonal brainwashing. Fall, as in falling, as in down, as in fear of, as in slippery wet leaves.

Who decided to call it frickin' FALL anyway? I think I'll rename it HIGH HEELS.

Spring - Summer - HIGH HEELS - Winter 

Much better.

It's not too late to go back and buy my sweet Lourdes. These shoes are why we have training wheels. And skateboards with handsome young men who tow you with skipping ropes you so you don't even have to walk.

This has all been a horrific menopausal moment!

Oh, feck - that word menopause. Where do all of these ill-conceived words come from?

I ask you, who but a man would name a woman's life passage after his own gender? Men-o-pause, poor delicate creatures afraid of women blossoming into new-found wisdom and strength!!!! Yeah, it's all about how he feels. He pauses? Pffft.

At the very least it should be called women-o-freakout, although it doesn't exactly slide off the tongue.

Fine. How about this for a pause - from now on it shall be known as:

Wisecracking 

Wisdom breaking through the shells of self-sacrifice and self-denial

Heh. No more menopause! Blast that word!

I see doctors around the world now: "Yes, [insert name here], it appears you have hit your Wisecracking years," and then him/her running for cover under the gurney stirrups while [insert name here] screams with delight.

Where's my skateboard? Where's my skipping rope? (Where's O? Has anybody seen him? Oh, maybe that's his shaking toe sticking out from under the couch.)

Everything is a fog. Stumbling around on egregiously low heels. Stumbling towards that frickin' ecstasy, meanwhile praying to the Lourdes in their cardboard cradle for salvation.

At least I have my quintuple glasses to help see my way through. Well, in truth I only wear three pairs of glasses stacked (one regular, two reading glasses), not five, and only when I'm sewing with black thread at night. Works so well.

It's all about the focus.

Elevation not with the sole, but with thine eyes. Looking outwards, not at one's feet, to achieve a higher state of being, whilst eschewing the opportunity to grow up (at 75% off). Gaaaa!!

Quick! Bring more sequins before this ill-shod Wisecracker runs out of slipshod double-entendres.

And now clarity. Here's a sober view. That's an old low-rent hotel with the crosses of a local hospital and a long-armed crane across the block looking down on it. I couldn't get a better photo - there were people partying in the parking lot and I didn't think my kind of Wisecracking would be fully appreciated.

This view could definitely be enhanced with quintuple-self-elevating vision, with or without the black thread at night.

Speaking of black threads, I'm wearing my favourite (only) black blouse below. It has a weird stretchy fabric that feels borderline gross. And my train engineer pants with the saggy dropped crotch. The rear view is too special to share.

Wisecracking during High Heels

See? I'm not advertising anything in this post, although it's too bad. Topshop shoes for free wouldn't inspire fear, guilt or remorse nearly as bad as paid shoes, in the same way that chocolates received on special occasions have no calories. 

I hope you're having a lovely season so far. Here, the leaves are the colour of pumpkins. And there's something magical about Wisecracking under a High Heels moon. 

I'm off now to see if that's O under the couch or a guest I've forgotten about. 

I'll link up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style, Visible Monday, and Catherine at Not Dressed As Lamb, #iwillwearwhatilike when the time comes. BUT WAIT! - What's that?!! 

A big unexpected PS! 

Using a little magic, I granted myself these shoes on Halloween. I'm glad they didn't turn into pumpkins at midnight - they would be much harder to walk in than heels.

It's amazing what 48 hours, since I wrote the first part, can do to a person. Heat, time, and pressure create diamonds. My own heat, time, and pressure got me shoes. Sure diamonds are good, but for only 48 hours on the clock, shoes ain't bad. 

Look, I'm space-borne!

Not exactly Twinkle Toes - better than Twinkle Toes! 

I went to a Halloween Party at Vancouver Barbara's place. So much fun! I wore this gown for the first time, purchased maybe a year ago at My Sister's Closet. The lace of the skirt is super soft, not picky. Underneath I wore one of my two hoop skirts. Check out that jewelled breastplate. It weighs a ton!

Okay, now you can go! Hahaha!! Thanks for visiting. 

 P O O F !!

I hope you had a wonderful Halloween!

 I howled at that High Heels moon. Did you?