Fascinate Me

Of all the British things that I love, the tea and crumpets, the royal family, the accents, and the awful teeth that make me feel good about my crooked smile, it's the fashion that really gets me going. With this past summer's royal wedding the spotlight shone on British style.

One item in particular caught my eye; the fascinator.

You can keep Hugh Grant and Buckingham Palace, just give me the damn fascinator!

Luckily I didn't have to search high and low to get my greedy little hands on one of these hot commodities. Nope, I just had to walk across the hall.

'Top of the morning to you Gigi!'

Gigi, among her many artistic gifts possesses a fascinator making talent that not many can top.

Somehow she is able to combine ribbons, pearls, flowers, and feathers and make them into the most beautiful hair pieces that I have ever seen.

The perfect accessory to add dimension to an outfit that is in need of a kick and one that will add a unique edge to your look.

Brides here in Calgary are going nuts over these beautiful gems and over the fact that Gigi is willing to customize them to match any wedding colors. This makes them a timeless piece for the bride and a thoughtful, elegant gift to the bridal party. She's even willing to work with Bridezillas. Ummm, which I'm sure you're not.

As a non-bride, I like to wear mine on my floppy hat. It makes me feel unique and I get stopped a lot by women (and one man) asking where I got my hat. Since I love getting attention at all times, this fascinator has become my new wingman.

There are several ways that you can hop aboard this fabulous fascinator train.

Gigi's website is here.

Gigi's Etsy page is here.

Gigi's Pinterest page is here.

I made that so easy for you to get your hands on these, its almost criminal.

So go forth and fascinate others with your personal style.

Cheerio!

Leaving a Mark

There are plenty of ways that people leave their own mark in the world.

Some choose to leave their mark on the music industry (like Whitney, God rest her soul), the business world, or major league baseball.

Some take the simpler route, planting a beautiful garden for the world to enjoy, giving back to the community through volunteer work, by vowing to do at least one good deed per day.

Gigi and I recently chose to leave our marks on T-shirts, through a process called watermarking.

We may not aspire to change the world but we do aspire to look unique while making out ways through it.

This is what you will need: 

• 1 pre-washed shirt t-shirt or tank top
• Graph paper
• Sharpie
• Paper
• 1 bottle of Elmers blue gel glue (it is critical that you buy this exact brand)
• Box of clothing dye

Ready, set, craft.

The longest step of this project for me, was choosing the words to apply to the shirt. I searched through old journals, Pearl Jam lyrics, famous quotes, the backs of many cereal boxes looking for something that caught my eye.

Snap! Crackle! Pop! just wasn't cutting it for me.

 I finally settled on the intro quote from one of my favorite songs by the Stars called Your Ex-Lover is Dead:

 'When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.'

 Gigi used a poem that I had written:

 'Love poems, hips bones, finding a man that can dance. Fast times, ancient rhymes, people who dare to chance.'

 Then she added her own poetic lines:

 'Cartwheels, high heels, feeling the sun on my face. Moon beams, pipe dreams, knowing I'm in the right place.'

We were set!

We started by writing the quote in dark marker on the graph paper and then sliding the paper into the shirt and tracing with the glue. I found the glue application very stressful.

Holding my breath, trying not to have a shaky hand, heart racing. I also considered this to be my cardio for the day.

Gigi is less high strung than me so she said she found the process quite enjoyable. Weirdo.

And I think that showed in the end result. Perfection.

Once the glue has been applied, place the t-shirts somewhere where no one can sit on them, or drop something on them, or where any dogs or cats can interfere with the drying process, and leave them to dry for 24 hours.

The next day, whip up your fabric dye as per the instructions on the box and dye your shirt.

We used a bucket rather than a flat tub and failed to mix the dye well enough. It ended up working out though because our shirts had a really cool tie-dye look to them that I am just CRAZY about.

If after you've dyed your shirt and have rinsed all of the excess dye from  it, there is still glue residue, use SoftSoap to remove it.

Throw your beautiful creation into the washing machine with like or dark colors and BAM.

There you have it. You're own custom made shirt.

Point and Shoot

I recently unknowingly entered into a very heated debate regarding gun control. It was with three downtown hipsters, all of which were wearing black horn rim glass and beanie caps, all of which had never held a gun and likely never will.

Unless, of course, one of them decides to host his next birthday party at the paint ball center. Or can dig up a vintage Nintendo duck hunter game. Regardless, everyone was pretty fired up.

To shoot or nor to shoot? That was the question.

My view point has always been that if you don't have a gun, you can't shoot anyone, and in turn no one will get killed. So why have a gun?

Unless its being used as a prop in a super sexy photoshoot on a ranch.

Attention all gun marketing companies: Gigi is a free agent and has the ability to make guns look remarkably cool and badass.

Anyways, to the hipsters I had said my piece and felt at peace.

Except when I realized that just because you don't have actual bullets, you can still do some serious damage.

Instead of arguing about an issue that most of us will never encounter and we cannot change (or don't have enough passion to change), let's talk about the ammo that we do have and that can be just as devastating: our words.

For example, telling someone that you love them when you don't to try to get what you want is the emotional equivalent of shooting an AK47 right through their heart and your integrity.

And shooting off negative slurs and awful names will leave residue on your hands and heart that is hard to remove and can't always be washed away.

Embellishing stories to make yourself look like the victim or the bad guy and telling them to everyone who will listen, is a point blank shot to your own self respect.

This is what's relevant in my life. Word control, not gun control. Words are as powerful as a sawed off shotgun and as the smoke clears, the repercussions can be permanent.

So choose your words carefully. Think before you speak. Understand that the impact of one sentence can kill the confidence and pride of the person you are speaking to.

Tempers can make this seem daunting. Emotions can make this seem impossible.

But all I know, is that the next time I go to pull the trigger, even in self defense (from some Baby Deer holding an AK47), I will imagine the collateral damage of the words I speak.

Continue your debate young hipsters, if you must, but excuse me if I don't partake in debates about guns.

Unless it's over which color of paint gun bullets I get to use at your birthday party.

If I'm still invited.

It's Not My Party... But I'll Cry If I Want To

Oh the days following a birthday. After having my ego stroked for about a week now and celebrating at any given chance, the festivities are officially over. And things are starting to feel weird up in here.

I don't get a cupcake with a candle and a wish with every meal??

You don't want to treat me to lunch??

You're not calling me just to say how much I mean to you and how happy you are that I'm alive??

Yay, is that a present for me??? No? Ok. I didn't think so anyways.

Has it seriously been a half an hour since someone wrote on my Facebook??

This tiara wasn't for everyday wear??

Bummer.

For all of the birthday memories that red wine has stolen away from me, today I found a momento of this years birthday that brought a tear to my eye and that I will hold onto forever.

The most precious card I have ever received from my dear friend/sister/neighbour Gigi. An artist with more natural talent and ability than I can decribe. And she has quite the way with words as well...



Tears. Lots of them.

Not just jealous tears because I wish I had her printing abilities, or laughter tears because the drawing of her cat Betsey is so accurate that I know this isn't the first time Bets has sat for her. Or the fourth time or the hundredth time. Or the last time.

Tears because I have a friend who loves me for me and says it in words that I can believe. Someone who gets me, probably because she is part of me in so many ways. Someone who will lie about my home-made vegetable cake tasting delicious or say that my last rage blackout probably didn't scare him off forever. Someone who can be my reckless partner in crime on a runaway party night and can also appreciate a lovely crafting night in, and with equal vigor.

And she is definitely someone who will not judge me tonight when I ask her to please sing Happy Birthday to me for the last time while I blow out the last candle on my last cupcake.

She'll probably even make sure that my tiara isn't on crooked.