I am so very freaking excited to announce the launch of The Anthology Boutique where some of my favourites (like this scarf) can become your favourites.
Shop! shop! shop your hearts out!
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The Anthology
You remember these, right?
Well, they’re back! And they’re better than ever!
Because they are now shorts! Which makes me want to, um, jump for joy.
They’re still as pleated as ever, they’re still as acid washed as they were originally, but now that they’re shorts, they’re downright funky.
It’s an extreme makeover, Hammer pants edition. And it’s a miracle that they turned out as well as they did. I’m not going to lie to you, I was worried there for a minute.
Went to an art show last night at Leone celebrating Vancouver artist Gina Miller‘s mixed media works (which are beeeautiful!).
And it got me thinking about mixing media.
Like coupling the soft flowiness of a silk blouse…
…with the roughness of a wool jacket.
And this isn’t just any wool jacket either. It’s a men’s battledress jacket, no less. I found it at an antique fair last year (note the date on the label) and it’s been keeping me warm as I battle the Vancouver weather.
My clutch? It’s woven reeds embellished with snakeskin cutouts.
Aha! More mixed media!
But I’m going to ignore that fact and reminisce about California.
Because I left my heart in the desert.
I love that it can be 8 billion degrees but there will still be snow on the mountains.
Another place I’d like to reminisce about? Turkey.
That’s where I found this shirt/dress (what is with all the hippy dippy clothes I bought in Turkey? I must have been having a moment.)
But back to California. Palm Springs (where we stayed during Coachella) was far quirkier than I imagined it would be — more art galleries, more midcentury modern architecture, more aging hippies. I can’t wait to go back. Especially because I miss the palm trees.
And yes, I am blogging in the foyer of the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. We’re about to go backstage but before we do, I’ve been reading the synopsis and here’s the story in a simplified nutshell: Figaro and Susanna are engaged.
One problem though: he’s a valet and she’s a maid. Which would be fine except that their master, the lecherous Count, has a thing for Susanna and intends to claim his feudal right to take a manservant’s place on his wedding night.
Oh dear.
But this being opera there are love triangles a-plenty and Figaro and Susanna are only one of the many would-be couples facing drama trauma. Who will outwit whom? Who will disguise himself as a woman to learn dirty secrets? Who will end up in a much older suitor’s bed?
I can’t wait to find out. To read the full Manga, click here.
Update: After heading backstage for a pre-show talk (see my friend Briony exploring above), we’re sitting front row, which is fantastic (unless you want to read the surtitles) but we get to see the opera the way the conductor sees the opera, which means we have a clear view of all the sweat and the spit.
And this is how polluted my brain is: I’m watching Mozart’s masterpiece and I can’t help but think of Gossip Girl. Figaro and Susanna = Dorota and Vanya. I mean, really.
But the Marriage of Figaro is to the opera world what the Nutcracker is to the ballet world: it is accessible, popular, and full of melodies anyone would recognize. Which is why Briony and I are having an absolute blast.
And I’ll be wearing the vintage wedding dress that I had transformed into a ballet-length beauty.
What did it look like before? This.
And let’s say that opera was the Marriage of Figaro. What would you wear?
A wedding dress? Of course you would.
I found this beauty at a vintage shop and even though I’m already hitched I had to have it.
I’m getting it shortened so it will be more of a ballet length as opposed to an I’m-going-to-the-chapel length. (I’ll post the “after” shot along with the big reveal of my Hammer pants post-makeover.)
I’m guessing the dress is from the sixties. But the spookiest part about it? The initials sewn inside — they’re mine.
It is also a learning experience. And because this was my first year attending the music and arts festival in the desert, I thought I’d compile a list of the top 10 things I learned at Coachella 2010.
1. The desert is hot.
2. A little barf won’t ruin a Phoenix concert. (After the guy next to me leaned over in the middle of the show and puked his guts outs, I contemplated leaving. But, like a true fan, he kept on rockin’ so I did too.)
3. Tweeting about that barf will get you written up in LA Weekly.
4. Major Lazer can hype a crowd like no other. See exhibit A, which, I should warn you, isn’t exactly suitable for work.
5. Icelandic is the world’s prettiest language. It doesn’t matter if you can’t understand a word of it, when it’s sung by Jón Birgisson of Jonsi, it’s like watching doves fly under a rainbow on a summer morning.
6. Wearing a New Kids on the Block t-shirt will make you new friends.
7. Some bands will blow you away live. (I’ll see you in Vancouver, Temper Trap.)
8. Others won’t. (Sorry, XX, I’ll buy your next album, but I’ll pass on your next show.)
9. Canadian flags look out of place among palm trees.
10. Paris and Nicky Hilton are much prettier in person.
Have you been to Coachella? Are you going? 2011, anyone?
I had no idea how beautiful the landscape would be. What was I picturing? Flat lands and a million swimming pools. But now that I’m here, I’m in love. The desert, the mountains, the colour of the sky at sunset — it is so beautiful.
Which is why I am even more excited about Coachella.
So what did I bring with me? This vintage, floral, fluttery number. Perfect for the desert, but it wasn’t always this way. Back in the day it was long. Like Rachel Zoe long. And it was gorgeous, but just too heavy to wear.
But back to Coachella. Lexie, you were wondering which bands I am dying to see (and re-see)? Today it’s Yeasayer (who will be playing in Vancouver on April 21), Passion Pit (even though I just saw them on Sunday), the dance-tastic LCD Soundsystem, the one and only Jay Z and my boy Erlend of the Whitest Boy Alive.
And because my husband loves them, we’re also going to see the way-too-heavy-for-my-taste Dillinger Escape Plan. But we won’t go anywhere near the front of the stage for this reason.
Man, I cannot wait.
First photo found here.
Oh! Miike Snow. Their show the other night in Vancouver was so gat dang fantastic, they have me seriously considering re-seeing them at Coachella this weekend. Even though their set time conflicts with Phoenix.
And you know how much I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really love Phoenix. (Coachella, you are cruel for pitting these two against each other.)
But Swedish pop powerhouse Miike Snow put on the second-best show I’ve ever seen. (What was the best show, you ask? It’s a tie between !!! (Chk Chk Chk) and that Britney Spears show where she threw a tantrum and stormed off the stage.)
So what do I do? Stand by my old love, Phoenix? Or ditch them for my new love? Help!
P.S. I’ll be tweeting my face off from Coachella. So follow me.