Category Archives: Sarah

leave the yoga pants for the studio, you’ll be just fine…trust me

with a few hours left of 2011, i was debating the two outfits i brought to a friends house to get her thoughts on what would look stellar, fab, and city new years appropriate. as she rummaged through her closet, a black, baby doll, light flower design, very ‘sarah’ dress was lightly hanging on its hanger. the love was immediate, prompting my friend not only to loan it out for the night, but as a donation to my ever growing dress collection. i told her ‘hey, i can wear this on my flight back’. A bit of shock and, not awe, but surprise came from her face. A bit of confusion over why I would forgo the common comforts of yoga pants on a plane for something as ‘dressy’.

This reminded me of a recent article I read where Scarlett Johannson listed people in pjs at the airport as one of her pet peeves, something that prompted me to shout ‘yes!’, in enthusiastic agreement.

I can understand the need to be comfortable while flying, trust me. With 31 flights in 2011 alone, ranging from 1 hour to 14, I can respect the fact that economy seats never recline enough for a solid nap, that the toilets will always have wet floors, and that you will inevitably spill some of your veggie pasta on your lap during turbulence.  I used to stick to my fake birks, cargo pants, and loose top to make such journeys, but with more and more travel I’ve found that I actually want to separate from my prior backpacker ways. I have already given a post on this (see sarah’s guide to dressing like a classy broad while traveling) but then I stumbled on the following video by chance and i felt this is an ‘issue’ i need to revisit.

Miss Jenna Marbles, I can respect the fact you want to be comfortable, but hey now, style is style whether your at sea level or peeing 20000+ feet in the air.

But I put the question out to the faithful viewers, what is your go-to airport wear?Do you agree with Miss Marbles, or of the ‘bringing back style to travel’ persuasion?

Looking forward to your replies! Best and blackouts from India*

ps. On my last flight I did wear said new black/flower baby doll dress, black opaque tights,flat mary janes, and a cozy but still stylish black and white cardigan. I was wiping a few tears away, so I didnt think of taking a photo. Next time though!

to cleav or not to cleav

Theres a lot of things that surprise me in my travels, both differences and similarities the world over. Though, this is not some intellectual piece on religious formalities, or social class, or political diplomacy. No. Its
about cleavage. And now that I have your attention….

I have to say that the rules for modesty are as varied as a Skittles bag. Whats considered appropriate inside one boarder, deplorable in another. From topless beaches in Spain, to shin length dress in Vietnam, to bum embracing jeans in Belize, the rules for appropriateness are not the same where you land. (And yes, I realize that males may also have rules of conduct, but in all honesty as a woman I haven’t picked up so closely on this. Any males care to educate me?)

I’ve been thinking about these concepts lately, trying to balance my clothing options so I’m not melting from heat, but still respectable to the conservative impressions in my new town. Its not to say I’m an avid flasher, in fact, I would consider myself to be quite modest. My legs used to stay hidden under jeans, even in the South African heat, my tummy never exposed in a bikini. But through the years, either through more self acceptance or yoga, I’ve started to reveal more trinkets of skin here and there. I thought I had a good balance, but apparently I still have much to learn.

On my most recent train journey from Kolkata city back to my
rural-ness, the woman beside me began tugging at my top, bringing it up in the
front, pulling it at the back. I was laughing, and some of the other women
around us were motioning to her that it was okay. But her stern eyes darted
between me and the male fruit seller in our ladies only compartment, as if to
remind me ‘theres a man in the room, mind the goods’.

So whats your take on whats appropriate, whats not. When is a lil’cleavge ok, when does it become ‘girls gone wild’ territory? Does this cross your mind when you get dressed, or an after thought when climbing some stairs (we’ve all been there, haven’t we).

Happy commenting!

The feminine, the pretty, the practical

I know its been a shamefully long time since I’ve posted. That’s what happens with four countries, one new job, countless people to see and things to do….all in less than two months. But since settling in to my new location, I now have the time to have a bit of a breath, and some writing time over a cup of chai. Please enjoy this latest posting…

**** 

Another summer, another stealthy hot country. While last year I was bearing the Vietnamese sun, this year I find myself struggling against the Indian humidity. It two showers a day hot, no need for eye liner as it will just run away, and my hair is a constant matted sweated lump. Yes these days I look about as attractive as I feel.  But as I eat my homemade curd and mango breakfast, looking down at the bustling rural street below, I am captivated at how beautiful and ‘together’ looking the women of my new town are. No matter the heat factor, they walk with a feminine grace,  looking as classy as if they were heading to temple or a special dinner. In fact, I can see they have just come back from the market.

I think this is part because of one four letter word, starting with ‘s’…get your mind outta the gutter, I’m talking about sari. This traditional Indian dress is still the daily wear for the majority of women, well, in this region of West Bengal anyways. It’s the type of fashion that combines necessity with style, of need (cool) with want (pretty).  

http://indiandresssari.blogspot.com/2010/04/black-saree.html

This dress has been gracing the beautiful women of India for nearly 5000 years.  The cloth can be silk or cotton, adorned with as many prints and colours as your wild imagination can dream up. While you would think that seeing everyone wearing the same thing would be mundane, or boring, but because West Bengalis are not afraid of a lil splash of lemon yellow or emerald green, your eyes are constantly adjusting to  variety of cloths and colours.  You can cross a thousand saris and never see one repeated.

A brief run down:

First layer, the choli. This is a halter style top, with options of short cap sleeves, long sleeves, and ‘scandalous’ tank top straps. A droop in the front to reveal the colar bone offers a seductive, but not revealing touch.  This is typically a solid colour, which may nor may not match the rest of the outfit.

 Second layer, the lehenga. Now this is kinda optional.  If the sari fabric is see through, then you should layer a light, long skirt underneath.  No need to see the whole show, am I right?

 Third layer, the sari. Sari is derived from Sanskrit to mean ‘strip of cloth’…though it can be nearly 9 meters long, so ‘strip’ may not do it justice. But because of the fabric and the loose fitting, 9 meters can feel as light as a feather.  There will typically be a pallu, which is a special patterned adornment, and how you wrap you sari should also be to show this pallu off (its usually so nice, you wouldn’t want to hide it). Taking the sari, wrapping it around your bottom lehenga, you throw the remaining fabric over your left shoulder. With that much fabric, the remaining hang over your shoulder should nearly reach the floor.  

http://indianfashionshaggy.wordpress.com/2008/08/12/indian-saree-style/

 And voila! The very very basics of sari.

 I must admit, I was a bit confused about the concepts of conservative dress when I first arrive. Curious to know why revealing a mid-drift is considered to be acceptable, where anything above the knee cap unthinkable. But the word according to wiki says that in Indian tradition…”the navel of the Supreme Being is considered to be the source of life and creativity, hence the midriff is to be left bare by the sari”…hmmm, I supposed that does make sense.

http://www.thisnext.com/tag/indian-dress/

 There are many other elements to Indian dress and accessorizing, all with their own double meanings and rich history. Even the sari has a much richer, and more detailed story than I am offering here.…But I have a lot of time coming up in this place, so more will come in time. Its time for daily shower number one. I leave you with the following images of this absolutely gorgeous, traditional fashion.

bollywoodvogue.com

References: the locals of West Bengal,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sari
(of course),
http://www.wikihow.com/Dress-in-a-Sari
(how to wrap), http://indianfashionshaggy.wordpress.com/2008/08/12/indian-saree-style/ (blue),
http://www.thisnext.com/tag/indian-dress/

(pinkness)bollywoodvogue.com

(wedding black)
http://indiandresssari.blogspot.com/2010/04/black-saree.html

Ouchie!

heres a question im hoping all you fabulous, resourceful and witty people out there in blog-land can help with… what do you do, oh what do you do?! when after the first day wearing your amazing, new shoes that not only go perfect with everything AND were on sale, have turned your heels the shreds and made your toes file a complaint? and returning them is impossible, and buying new ones are not an option? we’ve all been there i know. im there now, my fabulous new and great shoes (that were to replace my literally falling apart ballerina slippers for some upcoming traveling) have decided to spite me….wtf? i want to show them the world, show them the bright lights of kuala lumpur, and the roadside bus stops of the philippines, but they seem to be protesting. ive tried to ‘work them in’, a few twists and folds, but still issues.

si vous plait, aide moi! any tips, tricks or hints that have helped make your feet and style happy?

The Glam, The Glitz, The Jillabeeya

There are few places I have been with a more skewed sense of reality than Dubai. From springs and green grass in the desert, to islands built in the sea, basically this is a place where limits only exist when the money has run out. But there is a beauty here. The newest buildings that tickle your mind with creativity, the perfectly turquoise waters that are warmly inviting but cool to touch, and the sand hills that match the camels silhouette. But for myself , one of the most beautiful sites to see in Dubai are the women who make up the small, but regal, Emirati population. Their style and clothes are like none I have ever seen elsewhere, a mix of both religious tradition and modern creativity. Now, there is a disclaimer here; I am no expert on this world of dress, and I am no expert on the religion of Islam. This is simply my general surveillance out of my times spent in Dubai, and of course, could never apply to each and every woman living in the UAE. What this piece is intended to be, is a loving observation (and slight jealousy) of how the Emirati women epitomize glamour, beauty, and class. So pack your camel milk, wrap up your dates, and float with me on a cloud of hubbly bubbly into a small but far from humble world in the middle of the desert…..

First you have to start with the abaya. This long black cloak drapes generously to the ground, with at least a few inches left to glide along the floor. The cloak is wide enough to hide any hint of a persons shape, but don’t let this fool you into thinking it is unflattering. If anything, this extra fabric literally flows around the women, giving off an air of mystique and curiosity that they are literally floating by you. Depending on the occasion or time of day, the abaya will be laced with embroidery, jewels, fabric or sequins. That’s not to say they whipped out the be-dazzler that morning, though nothing is wrong with a be-dazzler. The quality of these embellishments can be seen miles away, and the intricacy, colour, and designs are one way of taking a simple concept of clothing, a black robe, and making it that persons own (as any style lover does).

black abaya with stars

Details of the abaya, this one embracing some twilight love

pleated bell sleeve on black abaya with crystal embellishments

More details, how much do you love these sleeves?

Secondly, you find the shaila or hejjab, the head scarf that covers the hair as per tradition. If the abaya has an embellishment, shaila will match it like an 80’s child’s shorts will match their scrunchie. It will be whirled up and set upon what I can only assume is a hair bun, to achieve a height at least a few inches above the head. Whenever I see the height of the shailas, I think to how I like to tease my hair to create body. So I suppose this method is what can been seen as the Emirati’s version of ‘oomph’. Also, while some women who adorn a hejjab will tuck in all their hair, Emirati women will leave a little bang peaking out, revealing their jet black hair. Oh, my jealousy continues!

woman wearing a black abaya with golden trim

Golden vision

 

woman wearing embellished shaila

Oomph-age!

Thirdly, because style goes beyond clothing, you’ve got to note the accessories! These are essential in completing the look, and again can add creativity and fashion to what can otherwise be a very simple look. Watches, bracelets, handbags, sunglasses and the shoes; these are blinged out and catch your eye like a fish on a hook. I don’t follow ‘high’ fashion by any means, so I cannot tell you if these are the latest Channel bags or Tiffany tennis bracelets. But I have heard that they likely come from the most famous fashion houses, and by all means they look as they could be. Its another element to the Emirati style that is not to be missed.

woman in black abaya with many accesories

Perfect example: belt, handbag, earrings, sunglasses, and phone. Its all there and all necessary.

three women in black abayas with sunglasses and large purses

Speaks for itself.

Finally, and this is something I note with my Arab relatives as well as Emirati women, is the makeup. Unashamedly bold and flawless. The half inch black eye liner, rouge stroked cheek, and ruby lips put the final touches to an look that is alluring, classical, modern, traditional, extravagant, and unique.

woman with black eyeliner and hot pink faux fur wrap

Note how the lips match perfectly with the "fur".

woman with blue and pink eyeshadow

I love the rainbow effect here, the colour is amazing.

But enough talk, more photos to further showcase the glitz and glam that is the Emirati style….

woman wearing white embellished black abaya

woman wearing black abaya with multicoloured scarf

woman wearing black abaya with embellished teardrops

woman wearing a silver and red abaya

Interrobangs Retrospective: Our Favorite Posts of the Past Year

Or, in which the Interrobangs kill two birds with one post.

One year anniversaries call for cake!

A year has come and gone, and it hasn’t just been a calendar year, but also the first year of Interrobangs Anonymous. Technically, our first post was on December 21, 2009, but with the hullabaloo of Christmas, Solstice, New Years, and Tuesdays, we postponed our celebrating until now. So here are our favorite posts of 2010/our first year blogging together.

This is how we really act

Style and Self-Image

Tutorials

Resources

Series

Pure Awesomeness

The past year has been so much fun. Thank you for reading, commenting, and being such an amazing community of fun, inspiration, and friends.

Fancy No-Pants

This morning I looked in the armoire and realized (ah! with some horror) that I had forsaken my mature integration of colour (and my theory ‘life’) into my outfits, and had gotten into a blah black, white, grey routine for about two weeks. But my early morning, caffeine free eyes set on this dress.

the shortness of this dress is a result of jumping, gravity, and some other things millie can explain

And a lil further down, my sock drawer (ie. The corner section at the bottom) the comfortable and complimentary tights. Inspiration renewed! Colour, light, bright, life! (With the right music, that could totally be on Sesame. BB, call me)

The tights I’ve had for years. Im sure I’ve even worn them out with these ladies to East Sides once or twice. I cant remember where I bought them, but sad is the day I put a rip in them. Not to sound so negative, but I know me!

The dress is from one of my all time fav stores in the world, Kana. It’s all Vietnamese made, and fingers crossed no sweat shops, But at least we know it scores some enviro points for being made in country. And also key, the clothes actually fit my lovely curvaceous maple frame (get it, maple = canada). I have several dresses from them now, which Ill put up one day. They are feminine, flirty, and fun!

But I must say the jacket is my new obsession.

I bought in the centre city of Hue for an inflated price of about 35$, shaving a cool 5$ with some bad bargaining. The first round the stall owner refused to bargain, and I walked away feel so heartbroken because I really loved it, but for ego sake couldn’t pay the asking price. I tried on jackets for an entire hour in this market, and I have to say, the Vietnamese are stellar coat makers. I have to take some pictures to show you the wide variety of colours and styles. No scary masses of black peacoats floating towards you in the markets! I liked the colour, and everyone kept insisting it was better for my skin that the purple one. The sides come in really nice with the help of the zippers. I am not usually a zipper person, per se, but here I feel it instantly works for slimming and they’re not too in yo face! But feast your eyes on this!

The collar was the definite highlight, just look at the ruffles! If it had a hood it would be perfect, but that will be my next find. The one thing I did not like was the big gucci ‘bling’ on the zippers. I asked them to remove them, and got some strange looks in the process. But huzzah, is it not fabulous?

i am scared at how normal person posey this pic is!

So this was easy, quick, and gave a boost of colour and life into an otherwise mundane Wednesday. Im heading to Hanoi tomorrow, and Kana is on the list! Maybe they’ll let me take some pictures inside? I promise, its enough to make you come visit ;)

and for your viewing pleasure….

the quintessential 'running to get ready for the automatic shot' pic. what can i say, i live alone and im single, this art of self portraits is still in the works

sarah’s guide to dressing like a classy broad while traveling

i think back to a few lines in a former katie post, that highlighted some key indicators she was moving to adulthood (e.g. making the bed each morning, and wiping the lipstick off the juice carton before company come. thanks for the consideration btw). while always making me laugh, it also got me to think that i, too, have started to engage in ritual activities that move my maturity status up from confused tweenie to sophisticated woman (though there’s still a loooong way to go before the latter happens!). the ritual of applying cream after showering, and always having a bottle of white wine in the fridge are activities never on my radar before i started paying my own rent. one of my most recent notes of adulthood came from changing my travel attire from a proud-to-not-have-done-laundry-for-three-weeks to a hey-you-can-bump-my-sophisticated-lady-self-up-to-business-class-and-noone-would-know-it’s-all-a-lie. now, i know that when you travel you want to be comfortable: to be able to curl up in your seat, maybe do a few yoga stretches between connecting flights. but, like anything in life, you can find a balance. work and play. love and hate. and yes, even comfort and style.

my change in attitude started when i realized that every time i stepped on a plane there was a whirlwind of possibility. no, not of what awaits on the other end silly! possibility of who i could be wrestling for the arm rest, or whose dessert i would eye as they decided to leave it on the tray. perhaps it would be the country director for a renowned ngo, sad that they hadn’t found a suitable project manager to hire. or, do i dare dream, an irish doctor on their way for their 5th placement in a rural camp placed close enough to a beach, but far enough from danger! in the words of will from will and grace, one should always dress right when traveling internationally. but 14+ hour flights, not including airport travel, wait time, and connections, wouldn’t make anyone run towards their prom shoes and a sundress. sigh, what to do?
i know many of you revel in the comfort of yoga pants, and would never dare to forget your wooly socks. my pre-grown up style for flights: cargo pants (side pockets provided for quick passport showings), fake birkenstock sandals so that i could (gasp) wear socks with to keep the toes cozy, and easily slip them on for a potty break (which, if you know me, you know is a major concern). the bag would be a backpack, usually ripping at the seems, and soaked in the muck found on hostel and public bus floors. but now, ladies and gents, lets fast forward and document some ways that we can ensure we stay true to our fabulous and fashionable selves, while still hugging our inner freshman whose best friend is a hoodie:
this is a picture of me, in my travel clothes, upon arrival back in asia. note; the enthusiasm is because i took the picture 1 week and 1 jet lag recovery later.
when preparing your style travel you need to consider:
1. comfort for pulling up your legs, contorting ones body for naps, and the pre-connecting flight yoga stretch.
b. the weather before, during, and after your flight. going from a winter sprung city to a tropical havana, while getting there in a stale cooler, with the option of your luggage not meeting you, does require some tact. and
*. what kind of trip it is. if its for work, you need to remember that while boasting about your uber-cool job that lets you rack up the air miles, you may encounter who doesn’t know where to go for the best local cuisine. if its for pleasure, you do have more leniency to rub in this fact to the business tripper but don’t forget you may get seated next to a lovely solo traveler looking for someone to join them in an odyssey of the countries most taboo cuisine.

taking all these items into consideration, i came up with this:

1. comfort! found in the foundation: the pants. or in this case, tights! for many people the yoga pant serves its purpose not only on the sticky mat, but on the plane too. let me tell you, there are options! i used to reject the notion of stirup pants. i silenced my inner 80s child when they resurfaced, believing i still hadn’t earned enough hipster status to pull it off. but i converted when the frustration of pulling down my riding up tights got the better of my protest. the comfort and warmth they provide are key when you realize your inner contortionist. here i chose black, for me important not just for slimming, but more for when i inevitably spill the rice from my veggie meal on my lap (its always something with rice, and like the potty thing i mentioned earlier, anyone who knows me knows i’m messier than a baby in car seat) i loved these tights so much that i included a second pair in the “in case my luggage doesn’t make it” clothes i carry in my handbag. more on the handbag later.

2. shoes! no more hippie mippie for me! i had these shoes made in vietnam for about 10$, as i couldn’t find any other shoes to fit my western foot. i always recommend shoes that can be easily slipped on and off, and still allow for some sock room on the plane. these are not only comfy, but give a dressy impression while not compromising comfort. you getting where i’m going with all this?

3. the top! this was bought while our beloved chels was showing me the ropes of thrift shopping in her town (though that town is not recognized by google maps, so i still doubt its existence). the colour is in my usual palates, and the softness is uber-desirable. its extra room encourages you to forgo the regular-size toblerone for the large one, and doesn’t restrict movement when doing a few between flight yoga poses. i have a tank top on underneath, for the autumn canada and in-flight coolness. but when i arrive i can easily dispose of it, and the shirt is billowy enough to allow for maximum ventilation. its also something that i would (and will) wear on a regular basis, as i favour empire shirts and quarter sleeves. and it makes me feel pretty, which is, after all, the first rule of style according to sarah. the second rule of style, is that it should make you feel pretty. got both of those?

4. for extra warmth and style, i also suggest two things: one, a jacket or sweater that’s easy to move in (note mine here) and never doubt the upped class factor with a fancy scarf.

5. not so easily seen are a few light accessories. my tried and true “sarah” in arabic necklace, and evil eye pendant because i’m beyond superstitious and need all the travel luck i can find. a watch (a must to track flight time, though don’t forget to update the time when you arrive. running to your connecting gate cause you failed to do so is not so much fun) and a silver ring i bought in mexico, and have lost and found more times than i can imagine (including 5 mins ago) but yet it always re-appears.

6. the bag. this one was influenced by chelsie on our trip to see katie last year. the notion of something other than a backpack for travel seemed odd, but i loved how stylish the look was. you have to pick one that can easily carry all your hand luggage needs: your laptop and any other electronics including their charge cords (never ever ever put in checked luggage! foolish people, trust the jester!), booka, magazinea, toiletry bag, facecloth, ipod or any other music listening device, passport holder, a spare set of clothes and undies, eye glass case, and of course, a few snacks (buying toberlerone or any other fancy dark chocolate from the duty free is one of my airport rituals never to be missed. like how some sports players don’t wash their jocks all season…hmm, maybe not…) the only grunts i have with a one shoulder bag is that it can strain an already tired back if its too heavy. but most airports have trolleys you can take from the duty free stores so pre-departure wandering can be enjoyable. and some also have quick massage booths, so treat yourself!

and that’s that people! i would love to know your travel style, so please comment what normally makes the cut when planning your trips. i hope i have been able to give you some pointers, and i am happy happy to pick up a few from you.

remember, you don’t have to forgo style just to be comfy. there’s a reason they say “its not about the destination, but the journey.” treat planes, trains, and automobiles as part of the fun of it all! mr. steve martin did it, and so can you.

stitch conclusions

a few months back when the heat began to waive its cruel hand over vietnam, i posted about my desperate need for summer dresses. i was looking for anything cool, breezy, and offered feminine style with minimum effort. i decided on two designs, and three sets of fabric that would make up my new and fabulous threads, and with those items in tow i sauntered off to the local tailors for a few games of charades and wishes that all would turn out well. here are the results

black and pink dress

the first dress turned out lloooveeely! aside from the bright white pearls that were affixed to the front, when i was first handed the dress i was beaming with delight. only a few alterations were needed as the ties in the dress allowed for easy (and flattering) fitting. a few inches off the bottom as well, and it was as great as a dress as i could have hoped for. it has made it into my near weekly rotation of items (not too many clothes with me here) and with tights or without, with ballet slippers or flip flops, i find it easy, comfy and femi-vienient (which is a mix of feminine, and convenience, the best of both worlds for the busy and humid ridden girly girl)

but then there was this one…

green dress

while in this picture it does look quite flattering, i must admit that it is not my favorite. when i first tried it on, the dress flumped down like a sac more than a figure helping drapery. it also had a large bow of the top fabric right in the front of the dress…. a little too much material than was necessary. bow off, bottom shortend, and sides taken in, i still don’t feel so styled in it. i will need to take it back for extra fitting, but schedules filled with work, outings, and cleanings leave little time to polish off my new duds.

some things i have realized since having now three items made here is this:

1. for those born sans sewing genes, the idea of having something made in the exact pattern and exact material you fancy makes me as giddy as school kids on pizza day! it makes me question why at home we ignore this lost art. instead many are happy to to settle for “well its not exactly my favorite colour, but i guess it will do”. perhaps cost and time deserve to be at the end of a finger pointing for this one….
AND
b. tailors are wonderful, but spending an entire career catering to the beautifully slim and slender women of south east asia can make fitting with flattery a challenge for their new curvy-canadian customer. let alone the difference in clothing styles that can thrown off even the most seasoned seamstress, there are often times glances of confusion, and disappointment on my part when i take a look in the mirror and think “theres something just not right”. but the game plan is to make a frequent showing at the same tailor time and again, so that when they see this fuller (but healthy) lady comes through the door theres less need for charades and more results of fabulous!

i need a dress for a wedding (ha, doesnt my mom wish it was for mine!) thinking back to my post about being more responsible in my purchases, i believe i will opt out of heading to the local h&m at the mall a day before. instead i think ill get something really suited to my tastes, personality, and bum bum, all from a local source from a family i know is not working in an air-less cupboard 15 hours a day. this time ill be able to chicken dance proud knowing ive taken one action towards more ethical styling…

peace out*

How We Met – Chelsie’s Version

How Chelsie met Katie: I met Katie my first day in university in September 2002 when she burst into my room, declaring that she HAD to meet the new girls who were living in her old room. That was I, and my first roommate. Like husbands, I thought it was trendy to have multiple roommates. Katie decided to follow me everywhere and teach me all about campus. I think she liked me best because I had the same side of the room that she had (I think…). She was tall, so I could find her so easily, especially when lost in Ikea a few days later. She also lived two doors down from my first room and I might have just migrated to her room because she also had a television and VCR, and lots of movies. At least I didn’t hide in her room like my friend Joeline did. She also commissioned me to paint the corkboard on her door.

How Chelsie met Sarah: Sarah was a friend of Katie’s and I met her in Katie’s room, maybe a couple days into my first year at university in September 2002. She had this awesome inflatable couch, and a poster of her boyfriend (Chris Martin). Being gullible I totally believed her (I also didn’t know who Chris Martin was, questioning this poster boyfriend might make me sound like an undesirable potential friend, and I didn’t want to burn any bridges). Sarah, Katie and I watched a movie in Sarah’s room on her fancy DVD player and television (she had lot of DVD’s) – so we were destined to be friends. I’m starting to see a trend here. We ordered lots of midnight pizza and pitas together and watched movies in her room.

How Chelsie met Millie: It was the last day of classes or exams of my first year of university, April 2003. We lived in an all girls’ residence and it was an unseasonably hot day. Katie and I, and maybe some other people, brought a couch from the common area outside to the driveway to sit in the sun. Millie was there too, Katie already knew her from choir. We went to get soft serve ice cream and some of us didn’t have enough money left on our meal plan I think Katie paid because she had lots on her meal plan. Or maybe it was I. I asked Millie for her email address and she totally blew me off. I didn’t see her again until Fall 2003 when we were Orientation Volunteers together and lived nearby in a townhouse complex. That is when we hung out all the time.

How We Met – Sarah’s Version

It all began, 10 years ago on my first day of international spy school. The beautiful town of *transmission break*  is home to gas lantern street posts, side walks flanked by weeping willows, and a light snow fall that comes each day at 5pm, regardless the time of year.  My eyes were sleepy from the hectic pace of the day, as I was shuffled from my motorbike, to my room, to my floor meeting, and now to the middle of campus wearing a red scarf and chanting the names of our schools fore-parents. Everyone seemed excited, almost in a drug induced haze, and the mid day sky matched this atmosphere by changing its skin from baby blue to zesty magenta. My tummy began to rumble, and the sight of the communal fire pit a blaze with charred meat was all so enticing. I felt around for some spare coins, only to realize I had left them my room. ‘Dang it’, I mumbled to myself. Then, as if some food angel heard my whimper, I see a hand holding a smoky piece of meat in front of my face. My eyes re-focus and I see a beautiful girl, perhaps my age, standing there. She had black curls that were like springs, her eyes as blue as a mediterranean sea. Her skin was white porcelain… a little too white porcelain that had me concerned for her iron intake, but it was still beautiful nonetheless. “Here” she said with a sweet smile. At first I tried to refuse, as not wanting to deny her an iron source. But she kindly insisted, saying that she could get as much as she liked. I shyly took the food from her hands, and said a small thank you for her gesture. I took a bite, anxious to mute the hunger monster shouting at me. The girl then said, “I’m Katie. Who are you?” With a stuffed mouth I managed to get out a muffled “mm Sharagh”

It was then 9 years ago, this time on my 7th day of my 2nd year at international spy school. I was twiddling a dandelion with my right hand fingers, humming a song about a girl with green eyes. Sitting on a stone bench beside the communal fire pit, I was waiting to meet up with a new friend, Katie. Yes, the very same Katie with the black spring curls, Mediterranean blue eyes, and dangerously white skin. It had been a year and a few days since our first meeting, and during that time our main interactions consisted of a few shared meals with our dorm family, and courtesy smiles on the cobblestone paths. But this year, I can’t say why, things seemed to click. Upon returning back to school for a new year, our friendship hit the big times, and we spent a record shattering 57 hours straight together, talking and laughing like we had known each other since our diaper days. We were now going to meet up to join in a traditional spy school game of hide and seek in the willow forest, and as I looked to my right I see my Katie walking and chatting excitedly with a teeny, tiny, red headed pixie. She wore purple mary-jane shoes, an evergreen green kilt, and a gray felt bowler that added a few kind inches to her height.  “HI!” Katie greeted me. “Hai!” the red headed pixie chimed. “This is Chelsie” (pixies have names?) “She’s new to our dorm, has great glasses, and comes from a place even colder than here”. “Cool, great to meet you. By any chance, Chelsie do you like the band Hotwork?” “Hmmm” Chelsie pondered, “I don’t think so. Why, you like them?” Katie and I exchanged grins. “Actually, the lead singer is my fiance” I replied. While she didn’t say anything back, the narration in Chelsie’s eyes gave away that she thought I was a little to young to be engaged.

It was then 9 years ago still, only now 2 months and 4 days into my second year at international spy school. The weather had significantly cooled, and the 5pm snowings moved to an early show time of 1pm. Wool socks, black stretchies, and an oversize gray sweater kept me warm since my humble dorm rooms radiator decided to go on strike. A knock at the door, and a shout that its open, and my two new favourite ladies streamed in. Katie holding a deep orange box from our favorite eatery, Chelsie smiling as she holds up a sac of sweets. I am about to remark that I’ll soon start to wind the film in the projector, when I notice someone standing behind Katie. It was a girl, with honey coloured hair layered around her head, brown eyes like chocolate, and a shy stance that made your heart melt. Never surprised at the numerous friends Katie can so fabulously accumulate, I was not the least bit thrown off by our new friend joining us. “Hi, welcome to my room! Do you like Baz?” “Um, sorta I suppose. Im Millie”. Now one of the first lessons they go through at spy school is that one of the most common deception techniques is changing your name. I had a tiny pinch in my belly that said this girl was doing me once over on her real name, but then I looked down and saw she had brought chocolate covered pretzels. I decided real name or not, I want this girl as my friend.  A few exchanges of what spy heros we envied, which governments we wanted to infiltrate, and whether we were darcy or clever girls, got the bond string stung. Four girls, four spy kits, four friends*

How We Met – Katie’s Version

When Katie met the other Interrobangs (like When Harry Met Sally, but without the diner scene)

Note: Most of these stories begin with Katie participating in a confusing-to-outsiders ritual in which approximately 1,000 upper level undergraduates, all wearing the same shirt (see the blue shirts on Katie and Chelsie in the photo) in order to welcome new freshmen into their dorms and show them around campus. Mass-scale coordinated dancing is involved.

Sarah: I met Sarah while committing theft.

It was the afternoon of freshman move-in, and I had already lugged 20 mini-fridges, 14 air mattresses, 32 Audrey Hepburn posters and 1 giant papier mache cow (agricultural school; don’t ask) into the rooms of new students in the dorm I had lived in for one year. During the break between move in and teaching the newbies our dorm’s dance (read: awkward aerobics) they would be required to perform at that night’s pep rally (welcome to college, better get used to embarrassing yourself!), it was lunchtime. As a volunteer, I got a free hot dog!

As I walked across the green, two young and slightly lost-looking girls approached me, asking where they could also get hot dogs. Sadly, the only way to get a free hot dog was to be wearing a nifty matching volunteer shirt.  Feeling bad for the hungry ladies, I handed over my hot dog to one the hungry freshmen (our future friend Christina) and went back into line to get another for the second girl (Sarah). Since I was only technically allowed one hot dog, if I’d been caught I would have been stripped of my coordinating shirt and banned from the mass-dancing. I took a major risk getting that hot dog for Sarah, and a few years later she turned vegetarian on me. Where’s the gratitude?

Chelsie: I met Chelsie by ambushing her in her dorm room.

When Chelsie arrived at college, she was assigned the dorm room I’d lived in two years before. Because my old roommate and I had spent many a pre-finals hour rearranging our furniture instead of studying, I knew the optimal layout schematics for the space and this was information that needed to be shared! Right now! When Chelsie arrived in her room, there I was, jumping up and down and babbling about how the two old, rickety beds could be turned into bunk beds as long as you wedged them between the dresser and someone’s desk and everyone was a calm sleeper.

I’m sure I scared Chelsie that day, so much so that she eventually moved out of that room all together, ditching her roommate to live down the hall with a girl who played Toby Keith songs on her computer all day long (still stand by that choice, Chels?). Luckily, a massive trip to Ikea, many a hallway toast party*, and forcing our Secret Santas to go on mass scavenger hunts through campus solidified our friendship. Even if she never did make the bunk beds.

Millie: I met Millie by almost passing out in the dining hall.

There’s a good chance I also helped move Millie into her dorm room, but since I don’t remember it, it doesn’t count.  I do remember seeing her around – it was a small dorm – and she and I were in the same choir. However, Millie was an alto while I was a snobby soprano, so we didn’t fraternize.

I finally “met” Millie one fall night after I spent 10, count ‘em, 10, hours in the Invertebrate Zoology lab practicing my dissections (verdict? It all looks like mush. But, in fact, it’s all gonad. Mushy, mushy gonad). Surprisingly, the sight of a mangled sea anemone put me off my appetite for most of the day, so by dinner I hadn’t eaten. While waiting for my order of chicken fingers and garlic bread (hello, Freshman 15, so nice to see you again), I became super light headed and was pretty sure I was going to pass out. Luckily, Millie was standing in line, too, and I quickly handed her my meal card and asked her to pay for my order while I went outside to sit down. She did and, awesomesauce girl that she is, sat with me while I ate. We then went back to the dorm and hung out in her room. Well, she hung out; I stood at her window and made creepy, blank stare faces at all the people passing by to try to freak them out. Stop judging. I lived on the 3rd floor; no one could see me when I made faces from there!

*Toast parties are exactly what they sound like. Someone would grab a toaster, we’d sit in the hallway, and we’d eat toast. Sometimes with fancy jam. Mostly with Nutella.

I knew these friendships would last when, one night, Chelsie and Millie took two buses to get to the house where Sarah and I lived, tried to scare us by standing in the dark and staring in through our big picture windows, and then made us veggie soup and slept in the living room (or in Chels’ case, the hallway (if only we’d had bunk beds…).

How We Met – Millie’s Version

So back on the “we’ve painted!” post, Rebekah asked how we all met, and while Millie gave the one-line answer, we thought it’d be amusing to tell you how well all met.  The one-line answer is that we all lived together in Interrobang Hall at Interrobang U, but we each have our own takes on how we met all the others. We thought it’d be fun to give each of our perspectives on how we met all the others, but that’s too long for one post. We’ll post them one at a time over the next few days, to spread out the fun.

Interrobang Hall was fairly small, and close knit, so within a couple of weeks of moving in, I had probably met all of them in that sort of “I’ve-seen-you-in-the-laundry-room-and-awkwardly-said-hi” sort of way.  Actually, come to think of it, Sarah and Katie probably helped me move in, since they were among the terrifyingly perky upper year volunteers that help all the first year students move into residence in September.  I’m a terrible friend in that I don’t really remember the time I met-met (as opposed to laundry room-met) Sarah and Chels, but Katie I met rather memorably.

So one of the cafeterias at near Interrobang Hall was sort of a cross between a fast food place and a convenience store, and had a long list of deep fried food you could get.  While I was waiting in line for something to finish cooking, a nearly green Katie came up to me and said she thought she was going to faint, handed me her meal card and asked if I could pick up her food and pay for it, and she’d be outside.  I thought she was going to pass out right then and there, so of course I said I’d pick up her food.  She waited outside on the bench, and thankfully didn’t pass out (it’s a good thing the place wasn’t busy).  I brought her her food, hung out with her until she regained her natural shade of pale, and we’ve been friends ever since.  Moral of the story: eat before your labs if at all possible to avoid almost passing out!

One of the more memorable (and earliest) memories I have of Sarah happened around midnight in one of the hall lounges.  Her room was across the hall form the lounge, and on the way back from the shower, she got sidetracked by an bunch of us hanging out.  She threw a cardigan on inside out, held it closed, and come out to join the conversation.  At one point, for reasons which have escaped my memory, she yelled, complete with very enthusiastic fist pump, “I’m a lesbian!   Wait, no, I’m Lebanese!”  While funny at the best of times, the fact that she was somewhat undressed in the middle of a women’s residence, having five minutes earlier walked past in a towel made it that much more hilarious.  She almost flashed us all, too.

Chels lived on a different floor than I, and I didn’t know her so well first year.  She had a class with a friend of mine (R.), though, and we’d hall-met (one step up form laundry room-met) periodically.  It’s a very long (and inexplicable) story, but R. and I, along with a bunch of other people, thought it would be funny to gather a whole bunch of spoons from the cafeteria and leave them all over Chelsie’s floor (not because it was Chelsie’s floor — just because it wasn’t ours) with a note saying “You’ve been spooned!”  Chelsie, a few days later, was hanging out with R. and was telling us about these spoons that appeared “all over the place!  In our shoes, in the bathroom, everywhere!” R. and I kept our best poker faces, which weren’t very good, Chelsie seemed very perplexed by the whole thing, yet entertained and curious, and I think realized we were up to something.  I half wanted to let her in on it to recruit help for future missions (which, sadly, never materialized), but I was sort of embarrassed about the sheer silliness of the whole thing, and didn’t fess up. I half met Chelsie many times throughout the year, but we never really hung out – hung out until the end of the year, which she’ll tell you about soon.

Continuing the Discussion of Exploitation in Fashion

(posted by Katie for the lovely Sarah, whose adventures changing the world sometimes don’t include reliable internet access)

a while back our dear katie and wonderful millie put up lists of stores for the ‘yay’ and ‘nay’ piles, based on sustainability, worker treatment, environmental care, and other important matters to necessary consider when making a ‘good’ choice. reading their posts, i was taken back to the first time i saw this video:

watching this, its pretty clear what the message is, and that message will most likely make you uncomfortable (or like me, just break your heart). its hard, very hard, to access the right products and companies sometimes, especially if you find yourself living in a small city in a majority nation, where the notion of ‘ethical’ or even ‘environmental’ has yet to rise to the social surface. sometimes, places in the world are {rightfully} just trying to build their nation up and in that time unfortunate priorities are made.

but small changes, public dialogue, and commitment to pushing for what is unarguably morally right, can and will eventually help shift the way we view our consumption, our trade, and at the very core of it, one another. what a beautiful sign of humanity, to say that we we respect one another too much to make a sister endure long hours, toxic working conditions, and meager wages, just for the sake of having something pretty to wear out dancing.

now, i am no better than anyone else. i know that i am as much of the problem than any other shopper on queen st, and i am by no means pointing fingers or trying to shame anyone. even now i am currently writing this sitting in a dress from h & m. but i am conscious of the fact that i need to change, and i hope that over the next few years my personal choices will be ones that help nourish the world….. and having friends and blogs there to help steer you in the right direction is a fabulous first step ;) it’s hard to pick your battles because, lets face it, it’s a sad minefield out there. it would be easy to say “you cant focus on it all,” but i challenge that. you may not be able to focus all you’ve got on every issue, but you are more than capable of making a few choices each day that can add to one amazing good vibration wave, causing real change even where you don’t expect it.

i encourage you to share this video (on your own blog perhaps?) and view the other videos  in the EXIT project on exploitation at:
http://www.mtvexit.org/video.php?lang=1&vdo_cat=2


lets keep the discussion of ‘yay’ and ‘nay’ piles going. share any tips, ideas, news, information, etc. that you have……..blogs are another great tool adding to this wave, so we might as well use it ;)

all the sunshine rays and happy thoughts to you!
s*

it’s going to be fabulous!

so its humid…. not just humid like how toronto gets icky in the summer pollution humid. i mean you feel like you need your bathing suit as you open your door letting the blissful a/c air out, and hitting that wall of moistness. (and for people who have a problem with a/c adding to humidity, that’s another discussion for another blog). nothing drives initiative like necessity, and in my two suitcases brought across the ocean finding that balance of warm, cool, clothing and shoes (both casual and dressy, and down time) didn’t allow for much wiggle room for either climate condition. however, i have wonderfully landed in the land of tailors, vietnam! seemingly commercial stores even have their singer set in the back of the store waiting and itching to make you a perfect fit. this comes in handy when the average size of the population is less than cozy with a larger, more minority nation based body as is mine.

but back to the humidity. i need dresses, because the idea of even leggings right now is not funny. i discussed last nite via skype with dear chels and humble millie and asked for some websites where i can browse some photos of dresses. some crazy great ones are out there, and i spent the next hour of our chat sending them new pics of ones i really liked. this morning i was eager to show my interpreter the dresses i need (and really i do) to have made. the first two are:

Dress 1 Inspiration - Modcloth's 'People Watching Frock'

Dress 2 Inspiration - Modcloth's 'Front of the Line Dress'

now finding the right fabric prints and material proved to be more challenging than i thought. the words from millie about going for natural fibers seemed to be a battle i wouldnt win among the piles of beautiful, but lets face it, fake, cloth. standing i was comparing some fabric when i felt a poke at my arm. yes, it was the sales lady prodding my arm giggles. since i cant say ‘well at least im healthy and happy’ in vietnamese, i simply smiled. that reminded me, i needed to make sure i bought enough fabric.

i stumbled on a pink polka dot, that even though i dont normally ‘do’ dots, i really loved. my first thought was ‘oo, bottom for the front of the line dress!” when i couldnt match the right fabric for the top i ditched that plan and decided it was my new print for the ‘people watching frock’ great, one dress done, another to go! i let my interpreter know that i would take that one, and they began to cut it up and insisting that i only needed two meters, that even that was too much. i kept trying to emphasize that i have more curves the the average lovely lady here, so better to play on the safe side. but they stood by their ground and i decided to trust the sewing ladies rather than my bodily perception. but in a few days this fabric will be for me a lovely dress (i am so lucky!)

Polka Dot Fabric for Dress 1

happy to have found one, but a little disappointed i deemed that i just couldn’t find the right combination for the “front of the line dress.” so i gave up and said i would try another store tomorrow. as i was putting on my helmet getting ready to saddle up on my interpreters motorbike,  i can see her looking all around, under the motorbike, feeling her pockets. then i realized, she lost the keys. we spent the next 2o mins shifting through the different piles and mounds of fabric we were looking at just hoping we would find them. talk about needle in a hay stack! but perhaps this minor set back was put in place by the fashion goddesses, because as i lifted up one pile i saw it…. no not the keys, the bottom fabric for the second dress! it was green, it was touch of yellow, it was something i would not normally go for, but just like the divine motive that made us look for the keys, i was drawn to it mysteriously. turning to my left, hurrah! the top fabric! perfect, perfect perfect. the combination it felt like me, somehow, and thats the joy of tailoring your clothes am i right? i tried to share my sympathies for the lost keys, and wondered if it was inappropriate to ask my interpreter to ask them to cut me some more fabric as she desperately searched around for those small little silver pieces of wonders. but a second hurrah! she found the keys! saving us a motorbike push to the office, and allowing me to swoop in with my request.

Fabric for Dress 2

the best part, aside from the low price, was the fact that both fabrics fit into a small little bag…..small bag? say hello to lightweight, easy, yet still dressy packing! gorgeous and practical, this can turn out pretty good…

tomorrow i visit the tailor. will the dresses work out? will the lines be flattering, the fabric heat relieving, and will it all come out in two neat little packages? stay tuned my friends…. and wish me luck ;)

Chelsie Daily Style – Altered Vest Belt

I was inspired to make this belt from yesterday’s Etsy email that had a similar belt. I didn’t take a before picture of the vest that I took apart, but S had purchased it from Value Village and it didn’t fit well and he was going to donate it back, so that would be it’s origin, a men’s vest.

  • t-shirt – Broken Social Scene
  • Short Dress Pants – from Sarah
  • Hat – American Outfitters
  • Glasses – Clearly Contacts (this online store is amazing! Canada only – now you know how it feels)

Last night I started cutting the vest up while watching episodes of season 1 of 30 Rock, pinned it together in preparation for sewing, and it took about half an hour to an hour to sew it all this morning, including sizing, fitting and refitting.

I think this belt will look good with dress shirts for work because I feel that it is still professional looking. I picked up some boning today for a belt project I’m going to tackle this week during my week off before starting my new new job.

You must understand that I’m having more success with my photographer these days. I have convinced him that taking these pictures is good practice for polishing up his skills with the settings on his SLR. So really, I’m doing it mostly for his own good and so that he becomes an expert photographer.

Close up of the front of the vest belt.

Close up of the back of the vest belt.

Talking to Sarah on Skype, my this morning and her tonight.

speaking of 80′s

Katie’s recent post reminded me of my own new semi obsession…. siouxsie sioux of one of the trailblazing siouxsie and the banshees. now, i’m no expert on the band, only that my teen goth self came out of the closet the other night while trying on clothes for an upcoming trip. thank you to the distracting habit of youtube, i have been able to see for the first time the songs that used to be recorded a la old school tape and recorder. but i digress, its not about my teen rebellion, its about the fashion!

80s clothing (even its inglorious neon) has seen a resurgence thanks to youth who felt that their skinny jeans and ironic tucker hats were being too copycatted by the jocks. lady gaga, rihanna, and all the other singing queens are also singing the praises of high shoulder pads, wave parted hair, and dramatic eye make up. but we need to give respect to the brave lads and lasses who first donned these colourful/crazy creations, and i think its time we all give siouxsie the credit she deserves. she has a diverse style, ranging from dom den inspired, to elegant sparkle, to layered for the sake of layering. most of all, it is her confidence and ability to just be with whatever costume she is adorning that stands out. you never get the impression that she is putting on an act, hamming it up for the sake of hamming. each look seems to genuinely represent a different side to her, which is what true style is all about. she uses clothing, make up, hair, jewelery, and the best accessory of all, attitude, to help bring out the entire look together.

seriously, watch this woman.  because its not just about the external style. as i said above, its about the way she moves within the style that really catches your attention and makes you giddy to see what the next look will bring. so why wont you take a quick walk down the 80s brick road, and feel free to dance along the way….

the glam of the glam! (seriously, we need more sequins in our daily lives):

if youre gonna do neon, do it like this:

because every good dramaite has a mime phase:

For even more siouxsie viewing pleasure:

almost embracing an inner abba queen

being a little sexy 1

being a little sexy 2

red siouxsie