Thoughts on air travel as a submarine-setter

In my life as a influencer, heh, and jet-setter (clarify: private-submarine-setter whenever possible), I must often fly to fake locations around the world. Sometimes I have to go to real places too. Oh, bother!

A while ago I flew, not by self-propulsion, which is another excellent option (see below), but on a plane. I had a suitcase. And I was in class H. Yes, you read that right. Remember when there used to be economy and first class, then business class nudged its way in, until this: class H, which presumably stands for Hot Hottie.

I was class Q (stands for "This is quackers!") on my return flight.
I thought there was a misprint.

My favoured way to fly.

One of my first self-propulsion flights.

I expected my boarding lineup to be way over in the other terminal I was so far down the list. If I was lucky there might be a bicycle or push scooter to transport me down the line. But no, I was lumped in with all the uppity classes, C D E F and Gs, and was later forced to sit with people waaay below my class, L M N O P. The indignity! Meanwhile, the As and Bs got their own rarefied air travel experience shuffling in the line next to mine. No mooing herd heard.

I know Canada is a classless society, but we certainly adapt quickly when it comes to air travel. [haughty sniff]

What to pack for an overnight trip 

This is part of what I brought with me. 

It's crucial that everything fits in a carry-on bag. 

I brought six attendants to aid in this process. 

Upon boarding and settling into your seat, you may discover that the person beside you is maybe a class F (Frickin' Frick), two steps above my class H.

She certainly didn't look class F, more like a J. 

Oh, the charade!! 

In fact, I only found out her higher status because she got priority snack service, which meant she could buy her potato chips first (crisps), grrr, but included in the price was the ire of everyone within eyesight and earshot of her crunch and grin. I thought, Heh, good deal! - nothing like being locked in a tubular cage surrounded by people who hate you for five hours.

But maybe this is the essence of the class structure. The one-percenters get chips (if class F counts); the rest of us watch and listen and get jealous and mad, while they crunch, look smug, exhale their horrible chip breath all over the place, and prepare to dash to the nearest exit. Sigh.

WHAT TO WEAR FOR AIR TRAVEL IN CLASS H 
(Class H stands for Class Hot Hottie)

Adding injury to insult, the flight attendant dropped that mini can of chips on my wrist and it really really hurt bad. Did I get free chips? No! But she brought me a clear plastic baggie knotted at the top and filled with ice chips sloshing around in reddish water which looked like meat juice. There were probably shards of bone in there too.

What fresh hell was this!? 

If I were class E or F (remember I was H), I'm sure I would have received at least a blue Freezie pop. I'm sure in Class A or B they would have forgone the meat runoff and just slapped a raw sirloin steak on my wrist before serving it to me for lunch.

I suppose this setup has a certain fairness, except for my grievous injury. The woman beside me paid more for the extras, like PRIORITY CHIPS, like you pay for extra space: x dollars for right elbow room, x dollars for earlobe space, hip space, baby toe space, x  dollars for middle finger space, but many of us just take advantage of that one without paying, which begs the question:

Is that breaking the rules?

I should get on board with this new reality and propose that airlines charge for oxygen. You get x cubic litres for x dollars. Of course it would be timed so you have to top up when you get close to your destination. It's only good marketing. And extra-fresh air for an extra fee. Miz Bagg always used to charge me for air in the office.

I can envision all kinds of money-making schemes.

• "Yes, sir, that is indeed your pudding. You didn't order a container or a spoon." 
• "No bathroom privileges for you! You didn't pay the extra $100." "But this is a 10 hour flight!" Which of course would boost sales for the fresh air option.

Another flying adventure, this time with co-pilot Sandra @standard.deviations.

I'm sure the troll on the wing of the plane in that Twilight Zone episode below would never get away with free passage on the wing like that these days. Trolls must board like the rest of us, regardless of their class, where at least we can all keep an eye of them, as if that helps.

Really, if I could self-propulse everywhere I would, but it gets cold up there. After this experience, I'm truly grateful for my private luxury submarine. If I could only figure out how to portage it across the prairies I wouldn't have to put up with this nonsense. Suggestions?

TOWER, WE'RE READY FOR TAKE-OFF

I hope you are all fine and dandy. I've been missing this blog world.

Agent Bagsy to the rescue!!

Hello! Hello! I'm wearing red!

I have been a busy little Canadian beaver this past week, making videos mostly. Here's one of them. If you've seen it already on Instagram, just move along. Or watch it again! Hahaha! The music is The New Order by Aaron Kenny. 

Yes, we need more secret agents over 55, or even over 40. I'm happy to oblige, especially armed with a vintage handbag! There are no shots of me actually thwarting the "bad guys," but that's how Agent Bagsy rolls. I want to team up with Mr. Bean so we could be Bagsy Bean or Bean Bagsy.

It was a challenge filming this solo, acting all weirdly downtown and in the alley with my tripod, and filming at the coffee shop. Luckily, I found a spot to myself.

If there was whispering - stay away from her, she's a bit odd, isn't she - at least I didn't hear it. I had to order that expensive juice to lay claim to the location. It was a good investment. I got the footage.

And this is a photo shoot I did this past week as well. It's the outfit I wore to the Nordstrom campaign launch party just shy of a year ago. I had such fun that night, made especially memorable with my friends Suzanne, Patti, and Shelley who came to help celebrate. I wrote about it HERE.

I swapped out the fashion glasses I got from Nordstrom, which had pale pink lenses, with these sunglasses.

I was getting a Marilyn Monroe vibe, shots of her with her hair blowing at the beach. Never mind that MM's hair was platinum blonde and my hair is getting white on its own, or that she was voluptuous and could sing, act, dance, and pose to make us weak at the knees. My knees are just getting weak. Heh. But I can still dream - that never gets old. That's what Hollywood is all about, dreaming. Agent Bagsy agrees.

Shelley gave me that cotton robe. It fluttered wonderfully in the breeze. And it was cool-ish outside.

That next shot actually feels '60s. It's the sunglasses.

Next, putting myself into real perspective. I'm just a dot in relation to this humongous bridge support. I guess that statement would be more profound if that were a galaxy behind me and not just a bunch of concrete. Of course I am small compared to a bridge support. 

That's better. Although I had to boost my size for you to see me at all.

Galaxy photo by Raphael Nogueira on Unsplash

That's all from me this week. I'm going to link up to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine's #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb. Maybe see you there!!

Thanks for visiting! Dang, I'm out of cheese nippies. I knew I should have got more. But I still have some gherkins and Cheez Whiz light cheese spread and a couple of cartons of fine wine.

Fifty and Other F-Words: Reflections in the Review Mirror

I occasionally allude to the menopause here on Bag and a Beret - it's hard not to. Mostly I feel majorly ripped off by the whole thing. "Pause" it is not! More like high-speed skidding on hairpin turns in the Alps (not in a good way) with a smile on my face that says I'm on a jolly holiday - "Tra-la, having a grand time!" - just playing my role in what must be the biggest brainwash of all time.

So when Margot Potter asked if I'd like an advance copy of her new book on the Pause and other life challenges, which she called Fifty and Other F-Words: Reflections from the Rearview Mirror, I thought, hell, yeah. I've known her online for years and she always cracks me up. We are the same age and she has pink hair, I mean, really, really pink. Those are Qualifications in my world.

Margot has also been in a rock band, auditioned for real Hollywood TV shows, has regularly appeared on stage and TV locally and nationally, and she was an on-camera shopping channel product expert for 11 years. As you know, I've misted my toes (doesn't qualify as a full-on dip) in some of those waters too, but Margot has plunged full cannonball! And she has authored seven DIY design/craft books and an e-book on personal branding.

So to the book.

The Outside: Excellent bright blue jacket with glittery bits, bubble-gum pink hard cover under it, satisfying heft at 220 pages, published by Sterling Publishing New York. And the colour age-progression shots of Margot on the facing paper are the perfect intro to what's to come.

The Insides: When I sat down to read, I kept turning pages and turning pages until there were none left. It was like a cleansing, invigorating shower, and I sighed with contentment when I was done.

I tagged all the places I laughed out loud or considered vital bits for backup during a harrowing hairpin turn.

Each chapter is a unique riff on an F word - fearless, frazzled, flabby, fashionable, feminist, et cetera - essays, poems, and other wry takes on life, from the highs and lows, to the sideways and side-eyes.

There were many Vulcan mind-meld* moments, like when Margot writes about her life path as a creative. I'm sure many bloggers and artists can relate: a company/buyer says, if you donate this amazing thing to us, we'll reward you, not with money, but something waaaay better - with amazing exposure! She laughs, if you're a knitter, try paying your landlord with yarn. Bwahaha!

I steamed and nodded my head at some of the off-the-cuff remarks she (we all) has fielded as a woman with visible life lines: aren't you a bit long of tooth for that? to be wearing that? to think that? Particularly remarks from men. Ouch. But Margot lobs her ripostes like scoops of ice cream, sweet, sticky, sometimes tooth-crushingly cold, which we catch joyfully in a crunchy sugar cone - decadent, calorie-free. Truly badge-worthy humour.

The top of page 41, bwahahaha! It's in Frazzled. You'll have to get the book. Heh.

Botox, high heels, chiskers, slutty pilgrim costumes, the Cheez-It problem/solution, private investigators, the unmiraculous powers of kale, muffin tops and Bundt cake, it's all in there, with lots of sprinkles and glitter on top, but no kale, definitely no kale.

The take-aways? We are not alone. Any time is a good time for reinvention, but especially after 50. She writes, if Julia Child can do it, so can we! Margot celebrates, cheers, cries, and high-fives us forward, buoyed by everyday magic. I recommend Fifty and Other F-Words: Reflections in a Rearview Mirror. I hope this becomes a bestseller. I do.

Margot's Webpage, FB, YouTube (book trailer) 

IG, The Lady Party (Margot a.k.a. "Madge")

Also, Margot interviewed me as part of her book launch. 

It's HERE, Mel Kobayashi: Fearless Fashion.

*reference to Star Trek sci-fi TV series, a telepathic mind convergence
I was not paid for this review. And Margot didn't give me yarn either. I'm not sure if she knits.

For this shoot at Vancouver Art Gallery, I wore beige tan caramel butterscotch light brown Missoni pants from My Sister's Closet, a striped silk blouse by Scotch and Soda, a felt coat by Yuzhe Studio, and Italian ankle boots from MSC.

The plaza is a very public place to use my tripod, but pffft, I'm such a pro these days. One kind woman stopped and asked if I'd like her to take my photo. Dick was doing a good job (my remote control) so I thanked her and declined. 

Those banners are advertising the Takashi Murakami Exhibit at the gallery, almost over. If you want to see it, you better hurry! Below is Turnip Head in my outfit, reading this book.

I'm linking this outfit up with Visible Monday at Patti's place at Not Dead Yet Style, and #iwillwearwhatilike at Catherine's place at Not Dressed as Lamb. I also linked this up to Catherine's #SaturdayShareLinkUp, where you can share links to any topic. Thanks for that, Catherine.

And thanks for visiting!!

Breaking the ice. Danger!

I'm going to pictures this week. Yeah, like the headline says, I'm breaking the ice! Action shot.

You may have seen other photos from this shoot earlier on my Instagram. They were taken by my artist friend Elizabeth Zvonar. You can read about her at Wiki HERE, her website, and Daniel Faria Gallery, which is located in Toronto. AND she's on Instagram. Whew.

I'm wearing my upholstery-fabric pants, so wondrous, with my spirography-turtleneck top, both of which coordinate nicely with my dotted wheelie cart and trailer-park-motif lunchbag handbag. Graffiti camouflage wear. My beast coat is trying to escape from the wheelie cart. And it's growling.

And look! It's Turnip Head with Princess Kitty. We're exploring an old tunnel. I was wearing my deluxe burgundy pants from Oska, my mustardy-muppet coat, a longish ombre blue/cream T, and a favourite scarf from the brand HADES. Plus my red beret, because, duh, nobody goes tunnel-exploring without one, or without sunglasses, vintage ones.

Still in that cartoony frame of mind, I went through my photos - and also because I didn't have anything new yet to debut, heh - and found my JLo workout velour onepiece that I painted my alternate body on, which took FOREVER with layers and layers of acrylic paint to get it just right. I'm happy with it now.

And I tried to add a little bad-assery, good-assery, mediocre-assery to the onepiece with this faux-leather biker jacket, which, after being stored in a space bag, is now flaking apart! The bag cautions, no fur, no feathers, but nothing about fake leather. Grrr. That company owes me big-time now, at least $5 !!!! That's okay - I can actually work with this flaking mess - I have a couple of ideas. I bought both of these pieces at My Sister's Closet.

That's it for now. I just did this little prairie-dogging pop-up post for a quick look around before going underground again. BUSY!!!!!

May you all be well and merry and well-fed and hydrated - including your skin.

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

How to survive winter '70s style with a kitty

"Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!" (reference to '70s TV series The Brady Bunch). These pants could have walked right out of that show. Or The Partridge Family, another TV series from the same era in which "a widowed mother and her five children make a hit record." Sounds plausible to me. These baggies remind me of the Partridge's concert tour bus, painted patchwork-quilt style. No bus for me, but I have a lunchbag handbag with trailers on it. 

CLICK "Read More" BELOW FOR MORE EXCITING NEWS!!

Fabularsenic! And Turnip Head. And The Shelley.

Yeah, it's kind of like Janet Leigh in the shower scene in Psycho, that moment you look down and realize exactly what you've put on.

I wore them. I did, a couple of days ago. Under my maxi wool turtleneck dress, from Talize thrift store, which I bought a couple of years ago when Suzanne Carillo and Sue, A Colourful Canvas, and I met up. The leg garment was purchased a couple of years before that at a different thrift store. Sometimes I wear them around home but they felt really warm under this dress. Because of the pants, I would call this a fabularsenic look -

- except the magic loupe O made for me, which is always AWESOME. You can be my twin and get one at his Etsy shop HERE.

CLICK BELOW FOR MORE SHOCKING NEWS.

I wore fake Audrey Hepburn for my big Skype interview

Me:  "You want me to what? With my WHAT?! I don't think so! This movie is supposed to be family entertainment. And isn't Fred (Astaire) a bit old for that kind of thing - even with the miracles of modern medicine? 

Them: garble garble garble.

Me: I don't care if Miz Bagg Productions has him locked into a three-lifetimes' contract! If you expect me to perform this dreck, you have another thing coming!

Just another day at the studio. Heh.

You want me to do what? With my WHAT?!

That's when I stormed off to the stairwell to cool down and do some serious editing on my lines.

"Where's my PA!? Get me Patti, she'll fix it! Must I rewrite the whole script myself?!" You wouldn't believe my PA - I told her I needed a trailer on set and what did she do? She brought me a trailer lunch-bag hand bag instead. Can you believe it? Only in a Miz Bagg production!

Editing my script. Who writes this trash?

Out, out, out, no, no, no. Another red marker bites the dust. Luckily, I know that a script can always be saved with the addition of a good yachting scene.

I am rehearsing during every spare moment - hiking off door knobs in the cafe, and railings in the library and stairwell. And practising my lines.

EXT. YACHT - DAY

MEL
(screaming sexily over high winds)

Oh, Roddy! Nobody does a tacky jibe better than you!! Toss me another bologna sandwich, then meet me in the saloon for a Russian mule and cake!!

Mel scoops fish out of water with her free hand, turns to camera, winks, then falls into water.  Roddy's arms!!!

At least I got Astaire replaced. His tap shoes were not only giving me a huge headache, but they were wrecking the deck.

Practising my hiking with the stairwell railing, for my yacht scene

It's funny how one single photo can set a whole production into motion, like the shot below. It reminded me of Audrey Hepburn in the 1957 movie Funny Face. She was 28 in that picture and her love interest, Fred Astaire, was 58. It happens. But reeeeally - Mr. Astaire? Out of all Hollywood?

What's even more shocking is that I am approaching Mr. Astaire's age but I still identify more with Ms. Hepburn. Would I do a film with a male love interest who's only 28? Hm, let me think about it.

Adding to the vibe was the winged eyeliner, which got there from a mascara incident on one eye, which I tried to replicate on the other rather than starting over. Just going with the flow.

Feeling impish like Amélie or Audrey Hepburn

I had a Skype interview that morning with Margaret Manning of Sixty & Me. I am not 60. I am still in my very mid-50s, and when I told Margaret, she still wanted to interview me, plus I liked the topics she had lined up. The first episode (of five in total) went up today, HERE. It's called:

I Love Floral Tights! 

Why Fashion After 60 is About Wearing 
What Makes You Happy 

Mel Kobayashi

The simple late-'50s-style jazz club outfit of black capris, top, and flat ankle-wrap sandals was perfect for throwing demo clothing on top during our talk - although at the time I was barefoot.

THANK YOU, SIXTY & ME, 

for having me on your show. 

Stay tuned for more episodes. 

EDIT:

Margaret has posted some of the other episodes now too. I'll keep updating the list here.

1. I Love Floral Tights! Why Fashion After 60 is About Wearing What Makes You Happy
2. Forget What Other People Think and Express Your Eccentricities
3. The Art of Walking Like a Movie Star
4. The Power of Black, White, and Grey
5. Vintage Clothing is Back for Women Over 50: Embrace the Past and Create Amazing Style

If you're wondering why I am looking up during the talk, it's because I use a big monitor above my webcam. Next time I'll fix that.

I have to say, after my previous podcast interview with Elaine of MaturePreneurial, HERE, which I posted on HERE, I thought I had learned from my mistakes. [insert cosmic guffaw here] Geez, with all these risks I'm taking with pods and Skypes, according to life gurus I should be on the superhighway to enlightenment by now. Pfffft. My GPS is busted for sure.

Bird understands me well

I'm linking up to Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for her ever-fabulous Visible Monday, and Catherine at her inimitable #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb when the time comes.

That's all for this week. Got any scripts lately you want to rewrite?! CUT!! Did you ever think Fred Astaire was sexy?

Hugs to all.

What to wear for yoga and shopping

THIS is what you should wear to yoga: a third eye timepiece, assorted starched jeans on your head, braids, three heads on your torso and hands for feet because in yoga they like all that contortion-y stuff.

I've been doing collages and farking around with them with pencil crayons. Feels so good. But below is one thing I wore this week, a brand-spanking-new-to-me kimono-style robe, courtesy of Suzanne. Are we allowed to say spanking? Yer darn-tootin'! You have to check out Suzanne's Etsy shop, VintageBySuzanne, if you haven't already. She is sooo good.

Note the expert squinching.

And those paisley-ish pants are cotton, thrifted of course, plus D&G velveteen-rabbit shoes, and my farked T-shirt saying Middle-aged Kitteh. Meow. Grrr.

I drew this Turnip Head a while ago, but Kitty seems to be wearing a robe similar to my new one so I wanted to share. The sleeves on mine are just like that. Kitty says, "Sweets for everyone!" Yes, I NEED SWEETS.

And another montage farkorama below for good measure, since I'm friggin' late for everything online this week and the booze at Patti's Visible Monday is gone. Pfff. As it is, I'm just scraping the barrel with Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb, #iwillwearwhatilike. 

[Edit: I also posted this on Catherine's #SaturdayShareLinkUp. Kitty wanted to join. Heh. It's nice sometimes to be able to link up a non-outfit post.]

This sketch shows you what to wear for shopping. NO, in fact, it's just what it is. Nothing to do with clothes WHATSOEVER. Maybe sunglasses though. 

I like the "pet." It's a cross between a Tribble from Star Trek and Thing from The Addam's Family. Importantly, it is wearing shoes. And I like the woman's handbag, and Kitty's Secret Knock club.

So it's a short post this week. Seriously, here I am wearing THIS and here I am wearing THAT, I needed a break. Me me me do ray la ti dah. It's a song.

I hope you are all well, surviving your weather and evading hideousness in all its forms, unless it's the good kind of hideousness. 

See you again soon!!

I can't hear me. The Big Interview.

I painted my eyebrows white, well, very light blue, before I went out in the morning, and in this photo, taken when I got home, you can't even tell. So what happened to my makeup? Was it sucked into my body?! 

It's a pancake type from MAC, which means it's not tested on animals, a plus, unless you count myself. At least it washes off very easily, the part that your body hasn't lapped up already. 

My Big Interview was recorded a while ago for a podcast that went live a few days ago. The show is MaturePreneurial, hosted by Elaine Benoit. If you ask how it went, I would say it was kind of like snapdragons growing out of rocks, like these, which I photographed recently. I felt nervous but I pushed through it - I won't go so far as to say I bloomed madly, but I conquered another fear, and that's worth celebrating.

I arrived at the sound recording booth early, having decided to use the pro studios at Vancouver Public Library's Innovation Lab. A Skype interview. The facilities are free with a library card - computer, mic, mixer. The tech promised to set me up, but when I couldn't hear my own voice through the headphones, only the interviewer's, the tech said, "It's supposed to be like that." ?! NOT.

As a result, I was not only nervous but also flustered from the outset and didn't have a chance to review my notes. But I survived. Maybe it was better not to hear what I was saying. Heh. At least I could hear Elaine.

When the interview was over, I noticed something weird. My pant legs had been hiked as high as they would go, and when you're wearing palazzo pants, which I was, that's pretty high. Yes, I had subconsciously been raising my pant legs throughout the interview, a nervous tick I suppose. Hahaha! Thank goodness I wasn't wearing a dress! - there was a tinted window in the booth where anyone could look in.

So if you want to know more about me, have a listen HERE. Elaine has interviewed lots of interesting people, including Lyn Slater, who gave a detailed account of how her social media presence was born. The mysterious rising pants are in the bio photo there. A big thank you to Elaine for having me on her show!

That's a Desigual T-shirt that Shelley of blog Forest City Fashionista gave me, with "RAINBOW" splashed across the front in sequins, and butterflies, so I farked it. Shelley suspected I would. Nobody tells me happy words and gits away with it! Heh.

I added the phrase "Existential Angst" to balance things out a bit and wore it the first time with my tuxedo pants and a jacket I got from Sylvia of blog 40 Plus Style during the clothing swap at the big blogger meetup a couple of years ago. This outfit made me think of Tom Waits. And I'm wearing a couple of rings that O made me, also available in his Etsy store here.

And I'm wearing BROWN. Whaaa?! It was nippy and this dress is a stretchy wool blend. If I hadn't had the striped tights, I wouldn't have put it on. And I'm wearing my watch choker. It's easy to tell time because it's broken and time stands still. Of course you see my magic loupe too, also available in O's shop here, a handmade piece. He even shaves the lens to a custom size.

I don't know what I'm doing in that pose down there.

And one more outfit for the road. My huuuuge pants that will definitely fall down without my unisuspender or that chain belt I'm wearing. They are so cottony soft, double ply, by the Vancouver label Babs. And on top is my silk Donna Karan pyjama shirt. 

On my feet are my Velveteen Rabbit D&G shoes.

Ahhhh, summer is here. I like it. Not too hot, not too cold. For now. 

That's all for this week. I had a whole post written and scrapped it at the last minute. I took time to write it too. That often happens when I think too much. Sigh. 

In my last post I wrote how I just got a cart. Pffft. I keep forgetting to take it out, or don't take it out on purpose thinking, oh, I'm not going to buy anything this morning, and then what?! All-natural peanut butter, $3 off per jar?!! Heh. Must. take. cart. And fan.

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

I hope youse guys are in your groove, making the most of each day. As always, thanks for dropping by!!

Squash and styrofoam and the ultimate in leisurewear

A colourful silk blouse. Which I love. Thrifted, of course. By Scotch & Soda, a slightly upscale brand from the Netherlands. The original tags were still attached, as well as all the brand's signature chains and metal gewgaws, which I find irksome, but I got it for a steal. I won't tell you how much I paid to spare your feelings. 

I'm standing in the viewing area of my building's squash court. The match I'm watching has apparently made me catatonic - or looking uber-boring fashiony. Heh.

Everything but the pants is thrifted and fine quality. The oversized men's overcoat below is British, vintage wool blend and water resistant. I thrifted the Miu Miu boots for $10 several years ago because the store thought the crackled leather meant they were worn out. The day after I bought them, I saw the exact pair in an editorial ad for Harley Davidson(?) in Vanity Fair magazine. I cut out the ad and hid it someplace so safe I'll never find it again.

The paisley pants are by some mid-tier brand, I forget, purchased at a consignment shop. They are awesome. And there's my "magic loupe" of course, a handmade gift from my partner O, worn daily for years not only as a talisman but also as a quick and easy substitute for reading glasses.

And below, I'm trying to be very cool in the stairwell. Val of Muse Fondue suggested on my IG post that I just need a candy cigarette to make the look complete. I so agree. Or a pink bubblegum cigarette because sometimes when you'd blow on them, powered sugar would puff out the end like real smoke. They probably don't make either anymore; I wonder if they sell candy fatties now.

In my mid-20s I decided to take up smoking for my New Year's resolution. I choked down about two half cigarettes and promptly gave up. I'm so glad I did. I couldn't even hold them in a cool way.

Below is the same outfit but with my shaggy coat and DIY faux fur collar thing. I'm reading in the styrofoam recycling room. Bwahaha - no I'm not. I always do flash photography in there, meaning I take my pictures in pitch black and the flash only lights up for a split second, which would give me time to read one or two words max if I were on a roll. Rather inconvenient.

I needed this book, reading glasses, and stool as props this time in case people came wandering in. What would they think finding me in the styrofoam recycling room not actually doing anything? This way I could say, "I'm reading, what does it look like?!" (And hope they overlook the fact that it's dark and there's a tripod and I could ask them the same question.)

I'm wearing my denim sweat pants, distressed denim on the outside and soft fleeciness on the inside, hip slung with a drop crotch and a sweatband ankle and waistband missing its tie. Thrifted, all thrifted, except my reading glasses, which I bought at the Art Gallery gift store, and my magic loupe.

The book in my hand is called Lady's Maid by Margaret Forster. It is a fictional account of the maid of poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning, single and later as wife of Robert Browning, based on scattered real life records. I've read the book several times and every time I scream in my head, Run! Sadly, my esteem of EBB plunged after this book, although my distaste was no doubt coloured by the conventions of the class structure of the time. I would not recommend this book if you want to maintain your high regard of this poet. But I enjoyed the book in an annoying (but good) way.

I'm linking up to Patti at Visible Monday on her blog Not Dead Yet Style. I'll see you in the garden. I'll be the one trying to look aloof in the reclining lawn chair, getting sloshed on low-salt V8 juice, and smoking bubblegum fatties.

________________________________________________________________

In other news...
The near-impossible has happened - I was featured in Marie Claire Brazil magazine, their print March issue, along with Sarah Jane Adams, Lyn Slater, Iris Apfel, and Helen Winkle (Binkie Winkle). Ouch, ouch, ouch - that's the sound of me pinching myself. Hahaha! That was an honour, I can tell 'ya (being in the magazine, not pinching myself). If you are reading this MC, thank you! I have a pdf of the article and I'll get a hard copy later this month and share more.

The only reason I was in there was because you guys give me such AMAZING support. I'm not all cool like other mega-stars who rack up this kind of thing all the time; I'm just a woman who wanders around Vancouver trying to grab at the little good things, wearing stuff that makes me happy. So thank you!