Friday, December 24, 2010
OMFG - Shout out!
Check out the January 2011 Issue of FHM Singapore for an OMFG shout-out and a spread/interview with yours truly! "Hui Will Rock You!"
x
OMFG -- a S'pore goodbye!
It's my last day here in Singapore and the only word to describe how I'm feeling is grateful. This trip has been a crazy, wonderful, enlightening experience that I can add to all the other experiences I've had thus far in my grand journey. As my gorgeous roommate and now good friend makes dinner in our little kitchen above the church, I plan on leaving Singapore the way I came -- with the company of amazing friends. I'm probably also going to leave partying because let's face it, that's how I came here too...boarding my flight after being out until 6am the night before -- not fun! I wanted to write a quick list of what I'm thankful for while my memories are still fresh:
The people
Singapore has been an amazing city to live in, and I'm sure I'll be back in the near future. The people here are insanely polite, and this coming from a Canadian can only mean that they're not just a little polite -- they're ridiculously, generously, beautifully polite. From the friends of friends who graciously shared their yachts, homes, and dinners to the darling little old man who walked up to my roommate and I in the pouring rain and insisted on holding his umbrella over our soaking heads until we hailed a cab. There was also the woman with the Chanel purse, LV pantsuit and if I remember correctly, the Swaroski-encrusted manicure, who took twenty minutes on her smartphone to locate the address I was looking for and then walked me to it, all the while apologetically saying sorry as to how long it was taking. This isn't just politeness in the form of a tight smile and terse thank you like we've become used to; this is genuine care and I appreciated every lovely moment of it.
The food
As if this really needs any explaining -- read my previous post. Let's just say I have to hit the gym hard when I get back. I don't care if you don't make friends with salad...I'm going to be best-freaking-friends with salad once my plane hits the ground!
The parties
It's true, you can't go totally insane here because of all the laws, but you can still go 90%! And, like anyone who's on vacation of sorts, the anonymity helps with achieving that 90%. I've fallen into another phase of hardcore love for house music simply from dancing my bum off to Armin at 4 in the morning in the clubs, then until sunrise on my balcony or the beach....there's nothing quite like being totally in the moment listening to house beats while throwing back Moet on the beach. It's a feeling where everything seems consequence-less and just dandy -- and to feel that way even momentarily is memorizing. Although, when our landlord informed us one morning that the church had called to inquire as to "who was screaming about drugs at 4 a.m.?!" I remembered that of course, things aren't quite as consequence-less as they some times seem in my head...for the most part anyways!
Me Myself & I
Everyone...and I mean everyone needs time alone -- away from everything and everyone you're used to, to just be. Yes, it's clichéd to say we all "find ourselves" in our twenties but it's clichéd for a reason. It's because we all do, and however you choose to do that, whether it's a trip, or any other opportunity...do it.
While I'm dreading the three flights I have to take in just a few hours, I figure it's a small price to pay for the experience I've had here. In reference to the post I wrote after just arriving here...my black Samsonite is definitely the only baggage I'm leaving with tonight. And thank the heavens for that.
x
The people
Singapore has been an amazing city to live in, and I'm sure I'll be back in the near future. The people here are insanely polite, and this coming from a Canadian can only mean that they're not just a little polite -- they're ridiculously, generously, beautifully polite. From the friends of friends who graciously shared their yachts, homes, and dinners to the darling little old man who walked up to my roommate and I in the pouring rain and insisted on holding his umbrella over our soaking heads until we hailed a cab. There was also the woman with the Chanel purse, LV pantsuit and if I remember correctly, the Swaroski-encrusted manicure, who took twenty minutes on her smartphone to locate the address I was looking for and then walked me to it, all the while apologetically saying sorry as to how long it was taking. This isn't just politeness in the form of a tight smile and terse thank you like we've become used to; this is genuine care and I appreciated every lovely moment of it.
The food
As if this really needs any explaining -- read my previous post. Let's just say I have to hit the gym hard when I get back. I don't care if you don't make friends with salad...I'm going to be best-freaking-friends with salad once my plane hits the ground!
The parties
It's true, you can't go totally insane here because of all the laws, but you can still go 90%! And, like anyone who's on vacation of sorts, the anonymity helps with achieving that 90%. I've fallen into another phase of hardcore love for house music simply from dancing my bum off to Armin at 4 in the morning in the clubs, then until sunrise on my balcony or the beach....there's nothing quite like being totally in the moment listening to house beats while throwing back Moet on the beach. It's a feeling where everything seems consequence-less and just dandy -- and to feel that way even momentarily is memorizing. Although, when our landlord informed us one morning that the church had called to inquire as to "who was screaming about drugs at 4 a.m.?!" I remembered that of course, things aren't quite as consequence-less as they some times seem in my head...for the most part anyways!
Me Myself & I
Everyone...and I mean everyone needs time alone -- away from everything and everyone you're used to, to just be. Yes, it's clichéd to say we all "find ourselves" in our twenties but it's clichéd for a reason. It's because we all do, and however you choose to do that, whether it's a trip, or any other opportunity...do it.
While I'm dreading the three flights I have to take in just a few hours, I figure it's a small price to pay for the experience I've had here. In reference to the post I wrote after just arriving here...my black Samsonite is definitely the only baggage I'm leaving with tonight. And thank the heavens for that.
x
Sunday, November 28, 2010
OMFG -- A Spore Food Experience
It's been a month already that I've been in the beautiful city of Singapore and I've fallen in love. Totally and helplessly head over heels, butterflies in my stomach, deeply breathy sighs and all that other good stuff that only happens during the first heavenly months. Nope, I'm not talking about some charming expat, but with all the amazingly beautiful FOOD. I'm not surprised, I've always loved Asian food (and Italian, and Japanese, and French...it's a wonder I'm still beanpole-esque) -- but my gastronomic experience here has really been something else. (If any of my bookers are reading this let me add that I've also been hitting the gym everyday and everything has been in moderation!)
Toronto definitely has an amazing food scene as well, and has cemented itself as a main food hub in Canada with exquisite specialty eateries such as the Hoof Cafe (meats and organs put into every dish) and high-end established experiences like Canoe. However, quite simply speaking, Toronto's opening of a highly buzzed-about restaurant every couple months just cannot compare to the on-going food experience that exists continually across the ocean. Singapore does not just have specialty restaurants; it has world-class hotels hosting a menagerie of drool-worthy and exquisitely decorated restaurants, it has chain fast-food places like those in America only spic and span and impossibly efficient, there are street delights made accessible via franchises that sell "sanitized" versions of local food and then there are the local food stands themselves, which are, in my opinion, the best and dirtiest food in the city.
Hakka food, as it's called, is local delights prepared by Singaporeans and sold in stands and mini-food courts the city over. These bustling markets host goodies such as the famed chicken rice (rice cooked in chicken-infused oil then served with the chicken itself, marinated cucumbers, broth and an assortment of sauces), salted pork with preserved mustard greens over rice, bean curd with fish paste and chillies, tropical fruit drinks such as iced lychee water with the actual fruits as well, papaya tapioca drinks and the desserts....ohhhh the desserts! The hakka desserts are simply to die for when it comes to a sweet-toothed person like myself. These treats are in the style of traditional Chinese desserts (think sweet pastes and glutinous consistencies as opposed to puffy pastries and fluffy cakes) and include tropical fruits which make for dessert heaven. Fresh mangoes over shaved ice with sweet jellies, sweetened peanut paste inside rice dough with shredded coconut sprinkled on top, and lotus seed paste inside rich flaky dough are a few of the popular choices at hakka stands. The desserts here are unique confections and as much as I search for suffice counterparts in Toronto, I just can't seem to find them. (Markham is the closest there is and come on -- it's going to take more than desserts for me to haul my bum to Markham.)
Singapore also boasts a detailed infrastructure that allows for it to host a bevy of beautiful dining places. The smartly architecturally-planned city has more pristine mega-malls than all of Canada combined it seems, the wide streets are lined with hotel after hotel and interesting facade after interesting facade. I had drinks the other night in a bar over water surrounded by sculptures and no one, except for me seemed to be stunned by my surroundings! In a sense, that's where Toronto has Singapore beat; in exclusivity. There are just so many decor-savvy and impeccable-serviced choices here that Singaporeans and expats alike barely blink an eye when they enter, say the exquisite lobby of the historical Fullerton hotel where I recently had a mouthwatering sushi lunch. Torontonians in the know, on the other hand, flock to whatever new hotspot with a pseudo-celebrity mogul name attached that opens. Oh, that's hardly a jab at my lovely hometown -- you pretentious darlings know exactly what I'm talking about, there's nothing like the glitz and glam of a properly marketed event. That's where our dear city wins. I was having a lychee martini one night on the 55th floor of an immaculate hotel bar when a bunch of messy rascals ran by me and just like some one had cut the music, the mood was gone. Nothing like kids to take the sparkle out of all things glittery. Don't get me wrong, children are adorable -- just not when I have a martini in hand.
All in all, it's a good thing I have an amazing metabolism because the cuisine here is exotic, exquisite and just to die for. Between the local hakka food, ritzy five-star dinners and my limited-time access to chains they have here that we don't in Canada (um, get in my belly Carl's Jr. thick burger and fries!) it's been a journey and a half for me in getting to know the city through its food. I was having dinner with my dear friend Jeff Rustia the other night -- the famed black-pepper crab -- as the waiter brought over deep fried bread to soak up the delectable sauce. I'll pass on to you, bloggees, the same advice I said to Jeff as he tried to turn down the deep-fried goodness that awaited us: Shut up and enjoy it. Where ever you are lovelies, bon apetite!
x
Toronto definitely has an amazing food scene as well, and has cemented itself as a main food hub in Canada with exquisite specialty eateries such as the Hoof Cafe (meats and organs put into every dish) and high-end established experiences like Canoe. However, quite simply speaking, Toronto's opening of a highly buzzed-about restaurant every couple months just cannot compare to the on-going food experience that exists continually across the ocean. Singapore does not just have specialty restaurants; it has world-class hotels hosting a menagerie of drool-worthy and exquisitely decorated restaurants, it has chain fast-food places like those in America only spic and span and impossibly efficient, there are street delights made accessible via franchises that sell "sanitized" versions of local food and then there are the local food stands themselves, which are, in my opinion, the best and dirtiest food in the city.
Hakka food, as it's called, is local delights prepared by Singaporeans and sold in stands and mini-food courts the city over. These bustling markets host goodies such as the famed chicken rice (rice cooked in chicken-infused oil then served with the chicken itself, marinated cucumbers, broth and an assortment of sauces), salted pork with preserved mustard greens over rice, bean curd with fish paste and chillies, tropical fruit drinks such as iced lychee water with the actual fruits as well, papaya tapioca drinks and the desserts....ohhhh the desserts! The hakka desserts are simply to die for when it comes to a sweet-toothed person like myself. These treats are in the style of traditional Chinese desserts (think sweet pastes and glutinous consistencies as opposed to puffy pastries and fluffy cakes) and include tropical fruits which make for dessert heaven. Fresh mangoes over shaved ice with sweet jellies, sweetened peanut paste inside rice dough with shredded coconut sprinkled on top, and lotus seed paste inside rich flaky dough are a few of the popular choices at hakka stands. The desserts here are unique confections and as much as I search for suffice counterparts in Toronto, I just can't seem to find them. (Markham is the closest there is and come on -- it's going to take more than desserts for me to haul my bum to Markham.)
Singapore also boasts a detailed infrastructure that allows for it to host a bevy of beautiful dining places. The smartly architecturally-planned city has more pristine mega-malls than all of Canada combined it seems, the wide streets are lined with hotel after hotel and interesting facade after interesting facade. I had drinks the other night in a bar over water surrounded by sculptures and no one, except for me seemed to be stunned by my surroundings! In a sense, that's where Toronto has Singapore beat; in exclusivity. There are just so many decor-savvy and impeccable-serviced choices here that Singaporeans and expats alike barely blink an eye when they enter, say the exquisite lobby of the historical Fullerton hotel where I recently had a mouthwatering sushi lunch. Torontonians in the know, on the other hand, flock to whatever new hotspot with a pseudo-celebrity mogul name attached that opens. Oh, that's hardly a jab at my lovely hometown -- you pretentious darlings know exactly what I'm talking about, there's nothing like the glitz and glam of a properly marketed event. That's where our dear city wins. I was having a lychee martini one night on the 55th floor of an immaculate hotel bar when a bunch of messy rascals ran by me and just like some one had cut the music, the mood was gone. Nothing like kids to take the sparkle out of all things glittery. Don't get me wrong, children are adorable -- just not when I have a martini in hand.
 |
| Buffet dinner at the Mandarin Hotel! |
x
OMFG - Modelizers galore..
After being here just over two weeks I've encountered many new species: the incredibly large and scary flying bugs that whiz in and out of my apartment via the open balcony, the screeching tropical bird which wakes me up every morning that, although I know it's probably rare and endangered, I just want to shoot, and then there's the most fascinating species of all -- modelizers. Oh, sure, we have our share of mild modelizers in Toronto -- men that enjoy the company of leggy waifs hanging around King West and pursue them here and there and whatnot but over here, at least from what I've seen, it's not just for sport -- it's a downright profession.
With so many girls here who are depending on modeling to give them a better life, I guess it's no surprise that it's like shooting fish in a barrel for men who have oodles of money (or enough to pretend they have oodles) to come in and sweep them off their feet with dinners, trips, purses and hey -- maybe even a little affection. I've had dinner with more than my share of modelizers and to hear them talk about us models like pieces of meat really ("Oh, this agency gets all the good blondes. She had good legs, bad teeth though. Unfortunate." That's so not what's unfortunate about that sentence, buddy.) is something I choose to view as entertaining. Yes, they're condescending and arrogant but likely sad little men as well so I make the best of such situations and humor this amusing breed of (not-so) gentlemen. (I also end up befriending modelizers because it's apparent one drink into dinner that they're not getting in my pants.) Men that want to be surrounded by beautiful women always isn't surprising really, I mean sex makes the world go round and round after all (sorry love and money) -- what's surprising to me is how willing all these girls are to latch onto some dude they barely know. Coming from a fairly well-off family in Canada I guess I can't really relate to not having a backup plan in life but to see fourteen year olds throw themselves at men old enough to be my dad -- well it's just kind of gross. Okay sure, maybe I'm being unsympathetic; what if they came from a hard life and have parents who are ill and blah blah blah but honestly if you're some chick who wants to whore themselves out via their looks to get the good life, well don't expect much sympathy from anyone! Like jeez, go to school or something! Brains. They're in our heads for a reason.
Snideness aside, the situation is what it is and oh goodness, it's just downright hilarious sometimes. While enjoying tapas and martinis the other night, one modelizer friend of mine expressed his disdain for a girl who outright asked for a designer bag during lunch with him. "I mean, can you believe that?!" he had exclaimed. That's the fine line of modelizing; even though the girls are acutely aware of their status as status symbols, it's in bad taste to actually acknowledge it...subtleties also make the world go round if you ask me. It's a whole industry where decisions are made on nuances so why should the sex associated with it be any different? These girls are girlfriends to the men they're with, and are expected to act appropriately. Sometimes it's like watching a father with his daughter who just was taught how to act like a lady post-Cotillion or something....i.e.hilarious.
I'm sure some of these pairings turn into lasting unions, and good for the ones that do, but for the rest of the girls out there who are looking to latch their legs onto something better than what they came from; it's a mess waiting to happen. Even the savviest of femme fatales are bound to feel used (and really, how much of a femme fatale can one be as a teenager?) or worse. A modelizer's motto likely something along the lines of "why fuck the girl in the skirt when you can fuck the girl modeling the skirt?" -- well ladies, or more like girls, why fuck the man with the money when you fuck some one who actually likes you for you? Exactly.
x
With so many girls here who are depending on modeling to give them a better life, I guess it's no surprise that it's like shooting fish in a barrel for men who have oodles of money (or enough to pretend they have oodles) to come in and sweep them off their feet with dinners, trips, purses and hey -- maybe even a little affection. I've had dinner with more than my share of modelizers and to hear them talk about us models like pieces of meat really ("Oh, this agency gets all the good blondes. She had good legs, bad teeth though. Unfortunate." That's so not what's unfortunate about that sentence, buddy.) is something I choose to view as entertaining. Yes, they're condescending and arrogant but likely sad little men as well so I make the best of such situations and humor this amusing breed of (not-so) gentlemen. (I also end up befriending modelizers because it's apparent one drink into dinner that they're not getting in my pants.) Men that want to be surrounded by beautiful women always isn't surprising really, I mean sex makes the world go round and round after all (sorry love and money) -- what's surprising to me is how willing all these girls are to latch onto some dude they barely know. Coming from a fairly well-off family in Canada I guess I can't really relate to not having a backup plan in life but to see fourteen year olds throw themselves at men old enough to be my dad -- well it's just kind of gross. Okay sure, maybe I'm being unsympathetic; what if they came from a hard life and have parents who are ill and blah blah blah but honestly if you're some chick who wants to whore themselves out via their looks to get the good life, well don't expect much sympathy from anyone! Like jeez, go to school or something! Brains. They're in our heads for a reason.
Snideness aside, the situation is what it is and oh goodness, it's just downright hilarious sometimes. While enjoying tapas and martinis the other night, one modelizer friend of mine expressed his disdain for a girl who outright asked for a designer bag during lunch with him. "I mean, can you believe that?!" he had exclaimed. That's the fine line of modelizing; even though the girls are acutely aware of their status as status symbols, it's in bad taste to actually acknowledge it...subtleties also make the world go round if you ask me. It's a whole industry where decisions are made on nuances so why should the sex associated with it be any different? These girls are girlfriends to the men they're with, and are expected to act appropriately. Sometimes it's like watching a father with his daughter who just was taught how to act like a lady post-Cotillion or something....i.e.hilarious.
I'm sure some of these pairings turn into lasting unions, and good for the ones that do, but for the rest of the girls out there who are looking to latch their legs onto something better than what they came from; it's a mess waiting to happen. Even the savviest of femme fatales are bound to feel used (and really, how much of a femme fatale can one be as a teenager?) or worse. A modelizer's motto likely something along the lines of "why fuck the girl in the skirt when you can fuck the girl modeling the skirt?" -- well ladies, or more like girls, why fuck the man with the money when you fuck some one who actually likes you for you? Exactly.
x
Sunday, November 7, 2010
OMFG - so far in Singapore
A little while ago I showed up bleary-eyed and horribly disoriented to what appeared to be a building for Church housing in the middle of Singapore. After more than twenty hours in the air and three layovers (One which included having ten minutes to run from one side of Dulles in Washington to the other in order to catch my next flight. Might I add that this run included four moving walkways, about six escalators and a shuttle. Really guys? Really?) and a couple pills which helped make the journey bearable, I was skeptical that this building was where I was going to call home for the next couple months. Ten days later and I'm sitting here on the couch of my surprisingly spacious model apartment feeling very much at home; something I rarely find I feel when I travel. (It turns out the bottom floor of the building is indeed for Church housing but the top floors are just apartments. "Sexy as hell models pouring out of a Church building! It's bloody brilliant!" is how my charmingly dazed British landlord described the situation to me.)
Singapore has welcomed me with open arms and I couldn't think of a better city for me to visit alone for the first time. I've been lucky enough to of traveled quite a lot so far in my life: pretty extensively with my family while growing up, a couple trips here and there with friends and a fair bit of traveling with significant others who are no longer significant, but I've never actually traveled alone somewhere totally foreign to live. I'm someone who believes in destiny; that everything happens for a reason and that this opportunity came to me in a my life at this exact time has proved to be perfect timing. Toronto was driving me insane to put it lightly; it's a city I'll always love but I just felt like after my break-up, it was time to break-up with Toronto for a little bit as well. Everything was reminding me of something or the other and I felt like I just needed to fuck off and be anonymous for a couple months. Fortunately modeling gave me the chance to fly half way across the world on some one else's dime and I couldn't be happier.
Obvious superficial details aside (being that Singapore is spotlessly clean, beautifully designed, easy to navigate and endlessly entertaining...oh and they have Topshop here! I may or may not have squealed and done a little dance in the mall when I spotted the store sign glowing from afar...) this trip has meaning to me in that I feel its purpose is bigger than just simply to be in a couple magazines or runway shows. What that purpose is, I won't know until the trip is over and some time has passed but so far it seems that being independent; in a physical and emotional sense is something I had never really learned to do in its entirety before. I cherish my friendships and family more than anything, but to be all the way here without any crutches to lean on and not be mopey about it has been refreshingly liberating. I don't know that if I had taken this trip any earlier whether I would be as happy as I am here now. Actually, I can guarantee that I would be missing some one, or everyone really. Big changes in our personal lives, as perpetually hard as they feel while going through them, only usher in new phases that we needed to go through to become stronger. I look over the last couple months of my life and everything that's happened to me, both good and bad, have led to this trip happening and for that, I'm thankful. I realize it now and can let go of some of the negative feelings I had held on to for far too long because what triggered them happened for a reason; for personal progress.
Being 23 and modeling in another city is entirely a different experience than if I was still in my teens. It's an interesting scene here with many young girls coming from nothing in Eastern Europe or Brazil and to see how they cling onto modelizing men is amusing to say the least. I don't feel like I have to accomplish much here other than learning to be happy with myself being alone. Making decent money from jobs will be great, and I'm not worried about that because I'm pretty confident I'll work well here, but as far as making the rounds in the model social scene - -I'm just not feeling the urge to at all. I love to party but after a couple nights out talking in baby English to stick figures who barely can put together sentences and men who call me "baby" after meeting me for five minutes; well honestly I just rather be doing anything else. Besides, with Singapore's insanely strict laws against anything that makes parties where you don't know too many people fun, I think I'll save my partying for a side trip to Thailand or Hong Kong! This is my Eat/Pray/Love trip thus far and I'm loving the calmness and detox aspect of it so far. With the exception of ciggies, I've barely had so much as a glass of wine here and it feels lovely.
I'm only ten days into my three month long journey and I'm sure the unexpected will occur as it inevitably does...in the mean time however I'm finding that my week and a bit of a low-key existence in the sun has done what a summer in Toronto couldn't. The large black Samsonite I flew with is all the baggage I intend to carry back with me at the end of this trip...and I can feel the load lightening already.
x
Singapore has welcomed me with open arms and I couldn't think of a better city for me to visit alone for the first time. I've been lucky enough to of traveled quite a lot so far in my life: pretty extensively with my family while growing up, a couple trips here and there with friends and a fair bit of traveling with significant others who are no longer significant, but I've never actually traveled alone somewhere totally foreign to live. I'm someone who believes in destiny; that everything happens for a reason and that this opportunity came to me in a my life at this exact time has proved to be perfect timing. Toronto was driving me insane to put it lightly; it's a city I'll always love but I just felt like after my break-up, it was time to break-up with Toronto for a little bit as well. Everything was reminding me of something or the other and I felt like I just needed to fuck off and be anonymous for a couple months. Fortunately modeling gave me the chance to fly half way across the world on some one else's dime and I couldn't be happier.
Obvious superficial details aside (being that Singapore is spotlessly clean, beautifully designed, easy to navigate and endlessly entertaining...oh and they have Topshop here! I may or may not have squealed and done a little dance in the mall when I spotted the store sign glowing from afar...) this trip has meaning to me in that I feel its purpose is bigger than just simply to be in a couple magazines or runway shows. What that purpose is, I won't know until the trip is over and some time has passed but so far it seems that being independent; in a physical and emotional sense is something I had never really learned to do in its entirety before. I cherish my friendships and family more than anything, but to be all the way here without any crutches to lean on and not be mopey about it has been refreshingly liberating. I don't know that if I had taken this trip any earlier whether I would be as happy as I am here now. Actually, I can guarantee that I would be missing some one, or everyone really. Big changes in our personal lives, as perpetually hard as they feel while going through them, only usher in new phases that we needed to go through to become stronger. I look over the last couple months of my life and everything that's happened to me, both good and bad, have led to this trip happening and for that, I'm thankful. I realize it now and can let go of some of the negative feelings I had held on to for far too long because what triggered them happened for a reason; for personal progress.
Being 23 and modeling in another city is entirely a different experience than if I was still in my teens. It's an interesting scene here with many young girls coming from nothing in Eastern Europe or Brazil and to see how they cling onto modelizing men is amusing to say the least. I don't feel like I have to accomplish much here other than learning to be happy with myself being alone. Making decent money from jobs will be great, and I'm not worried about that because I'm pretty confident I'll work well here, but as far as making the rounds in the model social scene - -I'm just not feeling the urge to at all. I love to party but after a couple nights out talking in baby English to stick figures who barely can put together sentences and men who call me "baby" after meeting me for five minutes; well honestly I just rather be doing anything else. Besides, with Singapore's insanely strict laws against anything that makes parties where you don't know too many people fun, I think I'll save my partying for a side trip to Thailand or Hong Kong! This is my Eat/Pray/Love trip thus far and I'm loving the calmness and detox aspect of it so far. With the exception of ciggies, I've barely had so much as a glass of wine here and it feels lovely.
I'm only ten days into my three month long journey and I'm sure the unexpected will occur as it inevitably does...in the mean time however I'm finding that my week and a bit of a low-key existence in the sun has done what a summer in Toronto couldn't. The large black Samsonite I flew with is all the baggage I intend to carry back with me at the end of this trip...and I can feel the load lightening already.
x
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Pick-up Lines 101 -- OMFG
If I could give advice to all the men out there it would be a simple as these four words: don't be a douche. Just don't. I know it's tempting, there are so many scenarios out there that just beg for utter douchiness, but you don't want to be that guy! You know, the one giving the hand guns out to all the sexy ladies in the club while winking and shaking his ass non-rhythmically to Usher while hovering around his lady-less both. Yeah, that guy. So, to help you all avoid being that guy, I'm going to share with you some pick-up lines one should never use on a lady with any self respect and which have all sadly been used at one time or another on yours truly. (Girls who have more then half of their boobs out, fake tans, more than one cut-out in their dresses, are wearing pink platform heels and/or are generally giving it all away in any other respect need not apply -- they're fair game men! Oops, and by "fair", I mean "easy".) Gentlemen -- let's begin!
1. "Hey baby -- I think I know you! Didn't we sleep together before?"
Oh goodness. I don't even know where to start on this one. First of all, implying to a girl that she's slept with some one and doesn't remember is probably the worst thing you can do. Maybe repeating "must not make girl feel like slut!" as a general rule of thumb would be a good idea, boys! Also implying that you have been with so many girls you can't remember if maybe, possibly, you've slept with her doesn't exactly paint the prettiest picture. No, it doesn't make you seem like a debonair stud who goes around bedding women with Clooney-like dapperness; it makes you look like a creep who goes around banging women with STD-like grossness. Another point to note: pairing this line with your hand on her ass guarantees a drink in the face. And then the glass thrown at you as well. (In my defense, I didn't throw the glass at his face..but only because being intoxicated skews my aim. Ha.)
2. "Hi gorgeous. Are you a model? Because I sure am."
This zinger starts of flattering enough, I mean who are we kidding, all girls want to hear they look like a model, i.e. better than all the other girls at the club but then the ending -- oh that ending! I actually laughed out loud when some guy pulled this on me. Let's be clear here: posing for a photographer friend's expensive new camera, having the picture desaturated and then stamped with a little logo in the corner and posting said picture as your Facebook profile pic does not, I repeat not make you a model. Neither does having "catwalk" pictures of you from a couple club shows because you know the promoters of the club and hit the gym extra hard that week. These revelations are especially embarrassing when the girl you're hitting on is a model and knows the difference between a comp card and that Zoolander-like photo of you you're showing her on your iPhone. Actually, come to think of it, any girl, model or not, would know the difference! Unless you're with an agency, and a narcissistic asshole who preys on girls with low self-esteem, this line probably isn't going to work.
3. "How heavy is a polar bear? Let's just say heavy enough to break the ice."
I want to preface this one by saying that I've heard this line not one, not two, but on three separate occasions! The first time I was mildly amused, the second I thought I heard wrong and the by the third time I think I snapped "Nope, not heavy enough!" and walked away. That's why preconceived lines like this one are such a huge fail; we girls know you've put all this thought into it and that comes off as desperate and -- well just kind of sad! Also, the line is so generic it implies you're just trying it on every girl and seeing who reacts to it. Not exactly the greatest when girls want to feel one of a kind. Other lines in the lame cheeseball category include "So, they rearranged the alphabet and put U and I together!", "Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?", "Are you tired? Because you've been running around in my head all day!" Here's a simple way to put it: Pre-planned cheesy line + wink + any shiny item of clothing = attraction levels similar to Walowitz from the Big Bang Theory! Google image "Walowitz" boys, and you'll never use such a line again.
4. "That dress is really beautiful! And it goes really well with your shoes. You have great taste!"
Don't get me wrong men, flattery will get you everywhere; make it sincere flattery and you're pretty much golden! But compliments on what we're wearing...well it's puts you into that "is he or isn't he into women?" zone. This grey area is right next to Friendship-ville which is one stop away from Never-gonna-get-any-land. Yes, we may have our arms around you, will dance and grind with you, and are sharing stories with you about that-jerk-that-did-that-thing-to-us-but-why-won't-he-text-omg!, but if you look closely we're also doing that with all our other girlfriends at the club. In other words, if you haven't expressed that you're into us and not just our clothes, we probably think you're gay! Compliment the girl, not the clothes boys, and we won't confuse you with the plethora of amazing gay friends we already have to tell us our dresses are fierce.
5. "Wow, you're really pretty! Almost as pretty as your friend over there!"
The back-handed compliment was a good method like five years ago, but now this counter-method of knocking the prettiest girl down only because it makes you stand out from the rest of the men slobbering over her has become so common that it's lame. The girls you're going to reel in with snide remarks like this either have serious daddy-issues or....nope just serious daddy issues! And if she doesn't, she's just going to think you're an ass, which is generally how I feel when I get one of these backhanders laid on me. Playing this little game is amusing enough I guess, but it you're a real gentleman or, you know, a decent human being, you'll find a way to create the chase without having to insult a gorgeous girl that you're actually into. Also, dishing it out means you better be prepared to take it, so unless you want to hear about how your hair has too much gel, or just because the Jersey Shore is in doesn't mean that Ed Hardy shirt is, and oh, is that some make-up we spot covering the bags underneath your eyes?, it's best to just steer clear of backhanded compliments! (Side note: I've said it before and I'll say it again: don't wear Ed Hardy to a club. Or any other place. Or in life. Ever. Just don't. Perhaps on Halloween with a big dose of humor and irony but that's the only exception people!)
Those are five of the worst pick-up lines out there...but that's just the tip of the iceberg. A good friend of mine got "Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only ten I see!" in all seriousness the other night and honestly, the fact that she didn't burst out laughing at the poor guy should get her a medal in grace. I can't speak for all the other ladies out there but I'm usually interested when a guy is sincere. Oh, and when all else fails, just remember those ever-important words: Don't be a douche.
x
1. "Hey baby -- I think I know you! Didn't we sleep together before?"
Oh goodness. I don't even know where to start on this one. First of all, implying to a girl that she's slept with some one and doesn't remember is probably the worst thing you can do. Maybe repeating "must not make girl feel like slut!" as a general rule of thumb would be a good idea, boys! Also implying that you have been with so many girls you can't remember if maybe, possibly, you've slept with her doesn't exactly paint the prettiest picture. No, it doesn't make you seem like a debonair stud who goes around bedding women with Clooney-like dapperness; it makes you look like a creep who goes around banging women with STD-like grossness. Another point to note: pairing this line with your hand on her ass guarantees a drink in the face. And then the glass thrown at you as well. (In my defense, I didn't throw the glass at his face..but only because being intoxicated skews my aim. Ha.)
2. "Hi gorgeous. Are you a model? Because I sure am."
This zinger starts of flattering enough, I mean who are we kidding, all girls want to hear they look like a model, i.e. better than all the other girls at the club but then the ending -- oh that ending! I actually laughed out loud when some guy pulled this on me. Let's be clear here: posing for a photographer friend's expensive new camera, having the picture desaturated and then stamped with a little logo in the corner and posting said picture as your Facebook profile pic does not, I repeat not make you a model. Neither does having "catwalk" pictures of you from a couple club shows because you know the promoters of the club and hit the gym extra hard that week. These revelations are especially embarrassing when the girl you're hitting on is a model and knows the difference between a comp card and that Zoolander-like photo of you you're showing her on your iPhone. Actually, come to think of it, any girl, model or not, would know the difference! Unless you're with an agency, and a narcissistic asshole who preys on girls with low self-esteem, this line probably isn't going to work.
 |
| College Humor says it best: the Anatomy of a Douche. |
I want to preface this one by saying that I've heard this line not one, not two, but on three separate occasions! The first time I was mildly amused, the second I thought I heard wrong and the by the third time I think I snapped "Nope, not heavy enough!" and walked away. That's why preconceived lines like this one are such a huge fail; we girls know you've put all this thought into it and that comes off as desperate and -- well just kind of sad! Also, the line is so generic it implies you're just trying it on every girl and seeing who reacts to it. Not exactly the greatest when girls want to feel one of a kind. Other lines in the lame cheeseball category include "So, they rearranged the alphabet and put U and I together!", "Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?", "Are you tired? Because you've been running around in my head all day!" Here's a simple way to put it: Pre-planned cheesy line + wink + any shiny item of clothing = attraction levels similar to Walowitz from the Big Bang Theory! Google image "Walowitz" boys, and you'll never use such a line again.
4. "That dress is really beautiful! And it goes really well with your shoes. You have great taste!"
Don't get me wrong men, flattery will get you everywhere; make it sincere flattery and you're pretty much golden! But compliments on what we're wearing...well it's puts you into that "is he or isn't he into women?" zone. This grey area is right next to Friendship-ville which is one stop away from Never-gonna-get-any-land. Yes, we may have our arms around you, will dance and grind with you, and are sharing stories with you about that-jerk-that-did-that-thing-to-us-but-why-won't-he-text-omg!, but if you look closely we're also doing that with all our other girlfriends at the club. In other words, if you haven't expressed that you're into us and not just our clothes, we probably think you're gay! Compliment the girl, not the clothes boys, and we won't confuse you with the plethora of amazing gay friends we already have to tell us our dresses are fierce.
5. "Wow, you're really pretty! Almost as pretty as your friend over there!"
The back-handed compliment was a good method like five years ago, but now this counter-method of knocking the prettiest girl down only because it makes you stand out from the rest of the men slobbering over her has become so common that it's lame. The girls you're going to reel in with snide remarks like this either have serious daddy-issues or....nope just serious daddy issues! And if she doesn't, she's just going to think you're an ass, which is generally how I feel when I get one of these backhanders laid on me. Playing this little game is amusing enough I guess, but it you're a real gentleman or, you know, a decent human being, you'll find a way to create the chase without having to insult a gorgeous girl that you're actually into. Also, dishing it out means you better be prepared to take it, so unless you want to hear about how your hair has too much gel, or just because the Jersey Shore is in doesn't mean that Ed Hardy shirt is, and oh, is that some make-up we spot covering the bags underneath your eyes?, it's best to just steer clear of backhanded compliments! (Side note: I've said it before and I'll say it again: don't wear Ed Hardy to a club. Or any other place. Or in life. Ever. Just don't. Perhaps on Halloween with a big dose of humor and irony but that's the only exception people!)
Those are five of the worst pick-up lines out there...but that's just the tip of the iceberg. A good friend of mine got "Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only ten I see!" in all seriousness the other night and honestly, the fact that she didn't burst out laughing at the poor guy should get her a medal in grace. I can't speak for all the other ladies out there but I'm usually interested when a guy is sincere. Oh, and when all else fails, just remember those ever-important words: Don't be a douche.
x
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
It Gets Better.
Maybe it's the over-representation of gay acceptance shown in television and movies by liberal Hollywood that makes us feel like equal rights are finally starting to be the norm, but it's time to face the fact that not all of America, and Canada for that matter, is as accepting. The recent reporting of not one, not two, but four (last I heard) gay youths taking their own lives makes one things clear: this is not okay.
The fact that teens, as young as 13, are choosing not to live because of senseless and ignorant bullying is something we need to, and more importantly can change. Four lives is horrific enough, and to think that there are many more unreported cases and an even higher number of teens going through such torment is beyond unacceptable.
There are messages everywhere that still validate homophobic behavior, and it is within the power of our generation to stop these messages and create a new voice of equal rights for everyone, no matter who you choose to love. If you, or anyone you know, is going through a hard time with being a gay individual, let it known that things will get better and suicide is not, and never, the answer.
As some one who has many gay friends I adore, it pains me to think that any of them could of gone through what these four teens experienced. Embracing who we are is hard enough during out teenage years; bullying can make it insufferable. Let's allow all youth out there to become the best people they can be instead of cutting bright lives short, and spread that message that there is hope and it will get better.
For more information check out the many "It Gets Better" videos celebrities have been making in support of gay or questioning teens everywhere, and post and re-post these videos where ever you can.
Change is within our reach, and equal rights for all should be a given, not a struggle.
Ellen DeGeneres' message:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_B-hVWQnjjM
Anne Hathaway's message:
http://perezhilton.com/2010-10-05-anne_hathaway_makes_video_for_gay_youth
The Trevor Project:
http://www.thetrevorproject.org/
x
The fact that teens, as young as 13, are choosing not to live because of senseless and ignorant bullying is something we need to, and more importantly can change. Four lives is horrific enough, and to think that there are many more unreported cases and an even higher number of teens going through such torment is beyond unacceptable.
There are messages everywhere that still validate homophobic behavior, and it is within the power of our generation to stop these messages and create a new voice of equal rights for everyone, no matter who you choose to love. If you, or anyone you know, is going through a hard time with being a gay individual, let it known that things will get better and suicide is not, and never, the answer.
As some one who has many gay friends I adore, it pains me to think that any of them could of gone through what these four teens experienced. Embracing who we are is hard enough during out teenage years; bullying can make it insufferable. Let's allow all youth out there to become the best people they can be instead of cutting bright lives short, and spread that message that there is hope and it will get better.
For more information check out the many "It Gets Better" videos celebrities have been making in support of gay or questioning teens everywhere, and post and re-post these videos where ever you can.
Change is within our reach, and equal rights for all should be a given, not a struggle.
Ellen DeGeneres' message:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_B-hVWQnjjM
Anne Hathaway's message:
http://perezhilton.com/2010-10-05-anne_hathaway_makes_video_for_gay_youth
The Trevor Project:
http://www.thetrevorproject.org/
x
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
OMFG Fall Fashion!
Every year the amazingness that is New York Fashion Week gets overshadowed in my dear city by the Toronto International Film Festival. It's not that I find movies more interesting than fashion (not by a long shot...give me rolls of fabric over rolls of film any day) but when the liquor board extends the city's license until 4a.m. at all hotspots and thus parties go on until the wee hours of the morning -- well it makes it rather hard to be awake during daylight hours. (I'm only just now coming out of my nocturnal schedule, but just barely. Dinner at midnight anyone?) And so, after a good ten days of rising midday, shining til the morning, and managing to eat and sleep some time in between, I'm only just catching up on all the beautiful collections that made their debut across the border.
There's a ridiculous amount of coverage available for fashion adorers who can't actually be front-row of all the shows; from live streaming of the collections [check out all the shows here: http://www.mbfashionweek.com/], backstage pics, live feeds, fashion bloggers galore [The Sartorialist never goes out of style: http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/] and of course the constant Facebook status updates from my friends lucky enough to be there!
My favorite show was Burberry Prorsum's Spring 2011 collections. Body-con yet feminine dresses. Tailored studded leather. Their classic trench made slick and modern with metal adornments and colored belts. It was effortless cool at its best. The line's past few collections have been consistently beautiful in my books because of their wild child meets feminine and tailored outfits. The Burberry Prorsum girl is confident and cool without compromising on her sex appeal -- and it was definitely love at first sight.
The Burberry show hit all the right trends we're seeing in multiple collections this year, including utilitarian touches, soft animal prints and a luxurious nude palette (although in Burberry's case, with punches of electric color). Usually reserved for those who can afford to shell out two grande on a jacket, or at least have daddies who can, Fashion Week's top trends have made their way to the mainstream at a pace never seen before. Almost exact replicas or at least spot-on trends from the runways have descended into stores like Forever 21 in sync with their debuts. Fashionistas everywhere can rejoice at wearing trends while they're still trendy -- not three seasons later! What exactly has caused this mass infatuation with designer goods to be at the forefront of pop culture -- or at least every girls' closet? The desire to replicate the runways has never been in in question, however much of its elitist facade has been stripped away due to the new generation of self-promoting, highly participant fashion savvy moguls. Everyone with an intense interest in style can put their thoughts for everyone to see and read via blogs (much like myself), social networking and so on. Lookbook sites have made mini-celebrities out of edgily stylish individuals and blogs can propel even the tiniest of bloggers into fame (literally as with the case of 13 year old Tavi Gevinson at www.thestylerookie.com who became a regular fixture backstage at NYFW through the sheer uniqueness of her blog and sense of style).
The overwhelming knowledge of trends and obvious demand for them being broadcast over the web, magazines and overall in our overly-communicative society (seriously...I have friends who post when they're taking a shower via Ubertwitter!) has led to fall trends in all their gorgeousness making their way into stores and onto our lovely selves. The ubiquitous camel coat, luxe jewel tone cardigans, intricately printed maxis and structured dark totes can all be found in surprisingly similar form from Holt Renfrew to H&M. It's less about price and more about style nowadays which has refreshing allowed us to mix and match; a $300 L.A.M.B knit can look just as put together -- and probably a helluva lot less pretentious -- paired with wide-legged H&M trousers and Jeffrey Campbell booties than with other flashy designer pieces. It's the era of attitude in being that's all one needs, along with a sharp sense of themselves, to pull of whatever look from whichever store they so desire. Take it from Olivia Palermo, socialite of The City fame whom, while perhaps the most annoyingly polite character on reality television, has undeniable effortless style. Her "Today I'm Wearing..." outfit calendar at the Vogue website [http://www.vogue.co.uk/photo-blogs/olivia-palermo/100406-olivia-palermo-day-5.aspx] showcased her mixing the likes of Topshop and Ann Taylor with Prabal Gurung and Hermes -- instant modern chic. Palermo prominently wears Zara, which is my personal favorite for picking up luxe pieces which are trendy but not too much so at amazing price points.
When it comes down to it fashionistas, style is style and stands alone from any obstacle. If you're a chic person, no matter what dough you're rolling in, it'll come through in your outfits. I make decisions based simply on what I like -- if I like it, I'll buy it. It's not the best mentality to have (my poor Visa took a beating this fall..) but having the trends present at such an accessible level has definitely made it a tantalizing season to shop! So go nuts bloggees and keep your eyes open; those studded leather jackets I saw strutting down the Burberry runway days ago will likely be hanging at Urban Outfitters faster than you can say "Need. Want. Have."
x
There's a ridiculous amount of coverage available for fashion adorers who can't actually be front-row of all the shows; from live streaming of the collections [check out all the shows here: http://www.mbfashionweek.com/], backstage pics, live feeds, fashion bloggers galore [The Sartorialist never goes out of style: http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/] and of course the constant Facebook status updates from my friends lucky enough to be there!
My favorite show was Burberry Prorsum's Spring 2011 collections. Body-con yet feminine dresses. Tailored studded leather. Their classic trench made slick and modern with metal adornments and colored belts. It was effortless cool at its best. The line's past few collections have been consistently beautiful in my books because of their wild child meets feminine and tailored outfits. The Burberry Prorsum girl is confident and cool without compromising on her sex appeal -- and it was definitely love at first sight.
 |
| Burberry Prorsum Sping 2011 |
The overwhelming knowledge of trends and obvious demand for them being broadcast over the web, magazines and overall in our overly-communicative society (seriously...I have friends who post when they're taking a shower via Ubertwitter!) has led to fall trends in all their gorgeousness making their way into stores and onto our lovely selves. The ubiquitous camel coat, luxe jewel tone cardigans, intricately printed maxis and structured dark totes can all be found in surprisingly similar form from Holt Renfrew to H&M. It's less about price and more about style nowadays which has refreshing allowed us to mix and match; a $300 L.A.M.B knit can look just as put together -- and probably a helluva lot less pretentious -- paired with wide-legged H&M trousers and Jeffrey Campbell booties than with other flashy designer pieces. It's the era of attitude in being that's all one needs, along with a sharp sense of themselves, to pull of whatever look from whichever store they so desire. Take it from Olivia Palermo, socialite of The City fame whom, while perhaps the most annoyingly polite character on reality television, has undeniable effortless style. Her "Today I'm Wearing..." outfit calendar at the Vogue website [http://www.vogue.co.uk/photo-blogs/olivia-palermo/100406-olivia-palermo-day-5.aspx] showcased her mixing the likes of Topshop and Ann Taylor with Prabal Gurung and Hermes -- instant modern chic. Palermo prominently wears Zara, which is my personal favorite for picking up luxe pieces which are trendy but not too much so at amazing price points.
When it comes down to it fashionistas, style is style and stands alone from any obstacle. If you're a chic person, no matter what dough you're rolling in, it'll come through in your outfits. I make decisions based simply on what I like -- if I like it, I'll buy it. It's not the best mentality to have (my poor Visa took a beating this fall..) but having the trends present at such an accessible level has definitely made it a tantalizing season to shop! So go nuts bloggees and keep your eyes open; those studded leather jackets I saw strutting down the Burberry runway days ago will likely be hanging at Urban Outfitters faster than you can say "Need. Want. Have."
x
Monday, September 20, 2010
OMFG -- Take Me Away!
I've got Asia on the brain. There's a potential trip for me in the very near future and after almost two years since I was in Hong Kong, Tokyo and Malaysia last, it's consuming my thoughts. The culture, the food, the partying -- oh my! I'm hoping this trip gets finalized soon because I am thisclose squealing obnoxiously with excitement whenever anything to do with Asia comes up. (Are those rice crackers you're eating?!! EEEEEeeeeeeaaahhh!!!!)
A born and raised Toronto girl, Asia's always been a place I heard my family talk about all the time but somewhere I never had a tangible feel on. I had been once when little, but have no recollection of (well not no recollection but very little; mostly of Hello Kitty. I was two, go figure.) and then several times in recent years only to discover that the cities of Asia are even better in person than I had imagined all these years. They are spec-fucking-tacular, to put it mildly. The first time the plane I was on descended onto Hong Kong in the evening, I remember being absolutely entranced by the gazillion lights of a spectrum of colors that covered the incredible skyline of the city, all the while being in juxtaposition against majestic rolling mountains. A feeling of excitement crept up my insides; there was a whole new city -- no, a whole new side of the world -- I hadn't experienced yet and the feeling of the (awesome!) unknown and how you're going to conquer it is probably one of the best in the world -- right up there with the "Damn, I just sealed that business deal!" feeling and the "Damn, I look like a million bucks in my new dress and heels and just saw my ex-boyfriend wince in the corner!" feeling.
The unknown is always exciting but there was something even better about walking around Hong Kong for me than that: it was like seeing everything I had heard about as a child come to life; a fairy tale come true. All the exotic tales of my childhood were suddenly living and breathing and it was beyond fantastic. As some one who adores cities, Asia is like the mecca of all mega-cities. The sheer amount of infrastructure and the pace at which it multiplies is a marvel in itself. It's progress at it's quickest speed and just to look around in the city can inspire one into pro-activity. It's state-of -the-art mind-boggling architecture next to old-world slummy apartments. It's slick, sterile, brand new malls surrounding shantytown-like markets. It's the newest Lamborghini speeding through the streets while rickshaws pace themselves along pedestrians. Old and new mesh seamlessly in Asia and especially in Hong Kong. I had the biggest urge to just reach out and touch everything when there for the first time as an adult, to take it all in and assure myself that yes, this endearingly noisy and perpetually crowded land was in fact real.
A quick hint for all of you non-Asians or Canadian-born Asians who plan on traveling to the East: if you're not going to try new things, don't bother. I'm mainly speaking of food here because the food is...orgasmic. I haven't been back since becoming meatless and I can imagine it to be somewhat of a form of torture to be there and not be able to indulge in all the delicacies that waft from every corner. Everything that sounds weird or disgusting is usually the tastiest, and if you let your preconceived notions of what usually makes for good food stand in the way -- well you're missing out. Get rid of the overly-sterilized, overly-packaged Western notion of pizza and burgers food and dive right into preserved sausages, congee (rice soup) with duck egg and fish, beautifully fluffy egg tarts, hot-pot style meals, and a array of animal innards that, no matter how lovingly I describe, will just sound unappealing. To experience Hong Kong is to take it all in, visually and through its vast edibility. To get past the initial gross factor is to understand why the Chinese eat like this; they lust after certain textures and flavors now matter where from. Something I dearly miss in Toronto are Chinese desserts. Sure we have the little pastries that dole out sweet buns and whatnot, but in Hong Kong there are entire restaurants devoted to mango tapioca puddings, sweet lotus seed pastes and tofu done so delicately sweet you hardly know it's tofu.
Foodie ogling is a great part of the city -- almost as good as the night life. New York may be the city that never sleeps, but I've walked around Hong Kong at 4 in the morning only to just realize it's the middle of the night because everything is still lit up and paved over. Unlike here in Toronto, you can go to the same club night after night and it's an entirely new crowd. Not just new, but vastly international. It's models in town for a couple months from America, business men from Europe, expats from the world over and locals. It's beyond refreshing to be meeting people who have incredibly different lives that the one you've lived and an easy way to meet them is out and about in the nightlife scene. The internationality of it all also attracts top-billing when it comes to club entertainment (no, not that kind!) with top DJ's like Guetta and Aoki ensuring the city stays in a perma-stage of dance fever. For those who worship house music like I do, it's a definite pro since the last time I tried to catch Guetta in Toronto, I was packed more tightly into ex-club Circa's "VIP" area than fat sardines in a too-small tin. If there's no room to dance, what's the point? ...Exactly. Hong Kong's nightlife is legendary in its variety but not cohesive enough in image to have generated a lifestyle, like for example Nikki Beach in St. Tropez. It's variety I'm on the hunt for right now -- or you know, a chance to see Guetta where I don't get hit in the face with badly done bleached extensions every time I want to bust a move!
Hong Kong is just one of the many cities I've been to in Asia and there are a countless number more I have yet to visit. Experiencing the new is essential to..well everything! If you don't know everything that's out there, how are you supposed to make decisions about what you want? Oh, it's like Biggie rapped ever-so-wisely all those years ago: and if you don't know, now you know! I'm sure he wasn't referring to my escapades around the world, but his words have meaning when it comes to experiences of anything you haven't before.
I can hardly wait to hop on a plane again and arrive in a world I know nothing about but want to dive into. Until then, I'll have to settle for being excited by the sight of rice crackers (chopsticks, Pocky sticks, Sailor Moon, you name it, it's all doing the trick right now!) and know that soon enough, I'll be blogging from across the world.
x
Hong Kong is just one of the many cities I've been to in Asia and there are a countless number more I have yet to visit. Experiencing the new is essential to..well everything! If you don't know everything that's out there, how are you supposed to make decisions about what you want? Oh, it's like Biggie rapped ever-so-wisely all those years ago: and if you don't know, now you know! I'm sure he wasn't referring to my escapades around the world, but his words have meaning when it comes to experiences of anything you haven't before.
 |
| The Hong Kong skyline...just beautiful! |
x
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
OMFG -- the Superficial.
I nod my head politely as the girl in front of me asks mundane questions about my life. "Good! And you?" has been my response more than once. We've met many times, and we're "friends" enough...we've even hung out during the day, albeit with our respective boyfriends in tow at the time. Suffice to say, I've spent enough time with this girl to know her as more than an acquaintance....yet as we chat here in a crowded club sipping our drinks, I am utterly and totally unfocused. Some girl's glittery purse is holding my attention more than this conversation. I've come to conclusion that, while undeniably beautiful in appearance, dressed to the nines and lovely in all ways the eye can see... this girl is boring. I don't feel bad for thinking this only because it isn't a snap judgement -- after spending as much time with her as I have, I can safely say she has slim to zilch of a personality. Interestingly enough, this girl is insanely popular and is very much a permanent fixture in the nightlife scene in the city. Yes Toronto, I guess we really are that superficial.
Maybe everyone sees something in her I don't, or maybe we simply don't click -- but I think it's more everyone is just insanely superficial. Let's face it; as long as you're beautiful, you're accepted. "Wouldn't it be a ridiculous world if everyone worshiped models?" a friend of mine once joked over coffees in London earlier this year. "But don't they already?" was my other friends brisk but truthful response. How else can one explain the social lauds of some one who's the personality equivalent of expired tofu? Simple: as long you look good, people want to be seen with you. At least in the circles of the city's self-proclaimed young, hip, and fashionable. Beauty equaling convenience isn't ground-breaking news in any way, but it certainly is something worth acknowledging when out and about in the city. Throw a hot dress on a decent looking girl and she's pretty much guaranteed access to a club sans cover and probably into a booth where the drinks are free depending on how forward she is. Throw a hot dress on an agency-rate model and well, there's no stopping what she can do! I'd be lying if I said I hadn't taken advantage of this myself -- waltzing into booths where I barely know the promoters or bottle-buyers is something I've done on many an occasion (albeit graciously as I can) and it fascinates me that this is something I have the privilege of doing simply because some people think I'm pretty. I'm grateful for it, but boggled by it at the same time. But really, as a twenty-something who is just looking to have a fun night out for the most part, I can't really complain.
Obviously the difference between your party friends and real friends is that you actually know your real friends; inside jokes, advice doling and shoulders to lean on trump bottle shots, drunk spewings of "No! I love you!!!", and empty compliments any day. I've been lucky enough to have more than several party friends become real friends the difference being, to start with anyways, is that you see them during daylight hours. Like Carrie and her gals once said about Big, "daytime makes it real!" and I couldn't agree more. Without flashing lights, total sloppiness and an atmosphere where one can get away with anything, you can actually start to get to know the girl behind the sequin dress or the guy behind the v-neck and loafers.
Oh superficiality! For some one who's in the business where my looks are literally my selling point, I guess it's allowed me to dwell on the subject more than I would had I another job. I'm both appreciative and frustrated at how simple things can be when one is seen as good-looking. As long as you don't take it too seriously and are rendered personality-less by it (seriously guys, the equivalent of expired tofu.) it's an interesting world to be a part of. I know my friends are my friends based on awesomeness and nothing else, so in that respect I know I'm still grounded. Capitalizing on what you have is one thing; becoming totally lame and boring because of how convenient the world is to you is another. Give me engaging conversation, martini-coming-out-of-my-nose laughter and genuine caring any day; all the other stuff gets old. x
Maybe everyone sees something in her I don't, or maybe we simply don't click -- but I think it's more everyone is just insanely superficial. Let's face it; as long as you're beautiful, you're accepted. "Wouldn't it be a ridiculous world if everyone worshiped models?" a friend of mine once joked over coffees in London earlier this year. "But don't they already?" was my other friends brisk but truthful response. How else can one explain the social lauds of some one who's the personality equivalent of expired tofu? Simple: as long you look good, people want to be seen with you. At least in the circles of the city's self-proclaimed young, hip, and fashionable. Beauty equaling convenience isn't ground-breaking news in any way, but it certainly is something worth acknowledging when out and about in the city. Throw a hot dress on a decent looking girl and she's pretty much guaranteed access to a club sans cover and probably into a booth where the drinks are free depending on how forward she is. Throw a hot dress on an agency-rate model and well, there's no stopping what she can do! I'd be lying if I said I hadn't taken advantage of this myself -- waltzing into booths where I barely know the promoters or bottle-buyers is something I've done on many an occasion (albeit graciously as I can) and it fascinates me that this is something I have the privilege of doing simply because some people think I'm pretty. I'm grateful for it, but boggled by it at the same time. But really, as a twenty-something who is just looking to have a fun night out for the most part, I can't really complain.
Obviously the difference between your party friends and real friends is that you actually know your real friends; inside jokes, advice doling and shoulders to lean on trump bottle shots, drunk spewings of "No! I love you!!!", and empty compliments any day. I've been lucky enough to have more than several party friends become real friends the difference being, to start with anyways, is that you see them during daylight hours. Like Carrie and her gals once said about Big, "daytime makes it real!" and I couldn't agree more. Without flashing lights, total sloppiness and an atmosphere where one can get away with anything, you can actually start to get to know the girl behind the sequin dress or the guy behind the v-neck and loafers.
Oh superficiality! For some one who's in the business where my looks are literally my selling point, I guess it's allowed me to dwell on the subject more than I would had I another job. I'm both appreciative and frustrated at how simple things can be when one is seen as good-looking. As long as you don't take it too seriously and are rendered personality-less by it (seriously guys, the equivalent of expired tofu.) it's an interesting world to be a part of. I know my friends are my friends based on awesomeness and nothing else, so in that respect I know I'm still grounded. Capitalizing on what you have is one thing; becoming totally lame and boring because of how convenient the world is to you is another. Give me engaging conversation, martini-coming-out-of-my-nose laughter and genuine caring any day; all the other stuff gets old. x
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
OMFG -- No Tomorrow.
I slowly opened my eyes the other morning in bed and, to my horror, the sun wasn't just shining...it was sending laser beams of light into my corneas. Not only that, but my normally serene room was spinning and in disarray (did I always throw my bra up on my curtain rod before bed?) and the normally slight murmur of the gardeners working on my street sounded like metal gravel being churned into my ears. Okay, I may be exaggerating but only because I was extremely hungover, and probably still a little wasted from the night before! Yes, it may of been a Monday but it was a holiday Monday and so, like any self-respecting person with a holiday the next day, I made it my personal mission to drink like there was no tomorrow the night before.
Obviously there is always a tomorrow but when you're in your twenties it never quite seems to feel like it....especially when you're highly inebriated and surrounded by people who seem to think the same. Ah, your twenties; perhaps the only time in life one gets away with such socially questionable behaviour, and gets away with it while looking good and with a smirk plastered on his or her face. To feel consequence-less is definitely something of a fleeting era confined to those in our age bracket ...behave the same way any older and it looks either 1) desperately sad or 2) highly irresponsible -- don't you have kids to go home to or something? But living like there's no tomorrow now is perfectly acceptable and we twenty-somethings should take full advantage of such amazing karmic rights.
All debauchery should be carried out with discretion, none of us want to end up like such tabloid fodder as Lindsay Lohan. Seriously, when the whole world knows you're a mess and you still are in denial, that's when you know your consequence-less days are over. There's a fine line between appreciatively enjoying these carefree days and going shamelessly overboard to a point of no recovery. A perfect example of the latter in the news recently (or rather always it seems) is Paris Hilton. With all her money, supposed "hidden" smarts she hides with a surprisingly convincing dumb-as-dirt persona and all her experience with handling the media, Paris has managed to get herself arrested -- again! -- this time for cocaine possession. The last report I read said something to the likes of "Hilton thought cocaine was gum! Purse containing drug was not hers because it wasn't designer!" Of course it was gum! I always take my gum in powder form up my nose, my toothpaste in joint form that I light up and smoke and my mouthwash comes in little tablets that have an "e" on them! I mean, come on. Hilton and Lohan are sorely tragic examples of two girls who were literally given anything they wanted in the world and still managed to mess it up. A little lesson in grace here young Hollywood: when the world is your playground, have fun on the monkey bars, but don't climb to the top of the jungle gym, take a shot of Jack, then face-plant into misery. Well, not more than a few times anyways.
The universe, or society, whichever it is we in our twenties happen to believe in at the moment, seems to have set aside a pardon on youth when it comes to forgiveness. Acts of brutality aside (we're not talking murder or anything here people), it seems as though a misdemeanor here, a one night stand there, and a passing out in goodness knows where can all be chalked up as "learning " experiences for now, from which we're expected to mature and know better from. Now I know I've had more than my share of "learning experiences" and it's true, once you go through them once (or twice) it's not likely to happen again because let's face it: been-there-done-that syndrome occurs to even the craziest of the party crowd.
The message here is simple my lovely readers: live it up now while everything still is your playground and before we all start having relatively substantial things in life to worry about. That trip to Ibiza you want to take but can't quite justify? Go. That thing that seems like a really good idea at 4 a.m. that you know you shouldn't? Do it. Those really expensive shoes you want to roll up in this weekend just because? Buy them. Mistakes are only mistakes when we allow them to be, and now is when we should be making them. Live and learn is the simplest, yet truest saying there is and we twenty-somethings should be living those words to the fullest.
x
Sunday, August 29, 2010
OMFG -- La Roux!
I love music. I love how it adds atmosphere to any situation, how it always seems to understand whatever love gripe you're working through and how it can make you want to dance around in your underwear like there's no tomorrow. (Let it be known that the latter is how I like to start most my days..with the curtains closed, of course!) Whether it be bass-heavy club anthems, minimalist house, straight-up catchy pop or old school Sinatra, music for me has only one criteria: if it makes you feel good, it's good music.
My current musical obsession is with the English duo La Roux! [Elly Jackson and Ben Langmaid.] I kept on hearing their hugely popular single "Bulletproof" everywhere only to have it get stuck in my head whenever I had space between thoughts...so I gave in and bought the rest of the album and was pleasantly surprised to find out it was much more than mere catchiness! I guess they would be categorized as electro-pop, but that implies overly synthesized tracks and weak vocals -- the songs definitely have a smooth synth edge, but make no mistake Jackson's vocals are as clear and strong as any acoustic performance. Aside from her musical talents, Jackson, often the only one seen in videos and when they perform, has a unique style of her own. With what can only be described as androgynous-chic gone neon, Jackson conveys a genderless cool-kid persona with her boy-short yet gravity-defying coif, slick trousers and sneakers. The duo recently opened at the Viktor & Rolf fashion show cementing their status, or Jackson's at least, as recognized style mavens. True style and sick music? Now that's a girl after my own heart.
What allows me to relate so much to their songs though is the sheer amount of emotion conveyed through their lyrics. I absolutely adore how Jackson sings about decidedly very "girly" issues all the while presenting herself as extremely androgynous... the confidence she portrays in her lyrics present emotions as a necessity to be proud of, regardless of gender. La Roux is essentially taking the feminine edge off emotions and allowing them to come off as feelings that stand on their own that everyone inevitably experiences. I'm impressed.
A few of my favorite tracks are linked below:
Armour Love:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAKmfO3v8ew
I'm Not Your Toy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ew_c5ewoVQk&feature=fvw
Bulletproof:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EUsbpmQ9-mc
And for those of you who enjoy shaking your bum around as much as I do, there are several amazing DJ remixes of many of their songs! As long as La Roux keeps killing it, I'll be listening.
x
My current musical obsession is with the English duo La Roux! [Elly Jackson and Ben Langmaid.] I kept on hearing their hugely popular single "Bulletproof" everywhere only to have it get stuck in my head whenever I had space between thoughts...so I gave in and bought the rest of the album and was pleasantly surprised to find out it was much more than mere catchiness! I guess they would be categorized as electro-pop, but that implies overly synthesized tracks and weak vocals -- the songs definitely have a smooth synth edge, but make no mistake Jackson's vocals are as clear and strong as any acoustic performance. Aside from her musical talents, Jackson, often the only one seen in videos and when they perform, has a unique style of her own. With what can only be described as androgynous-chic gone neon, Jackson conveys a genderless cool-kid persona with her boy-short yet gravity-defying coif, slick trousers and sneakers. The duo recently opened at the Viktor & Rolf fashion show cementing their status, or Jackson's at least, as recognized style mavens. True style and sick music? Now that's a girl after my own heart.
What allows me to relate so much to their songs though is the sheer amount of emotion conveyed through their lyrics. I absolutely adore how Jackson sings about decidedly very "girly" issues all the while presenting herself as extremely androgynous... the confidence she portrays in her lyrics present emotions as a necessity to be proud of, regardless of gender. La Roux is essentially taking the feminine edge off emotions and allowing them to come off as feelings that stand on their own that everyone inevitably experiences. I'm impressed.
A few of my favorite tracks are linked below:
Armour Love:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAKmfO3v8ew
I'm Not Your Toy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ew_c5ewoVQk&feature=fvw
Bulletproof:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EUsbpmQ9-mc
And for those of you who enjoy shaking your bum around as much as I do, there are several amazing DJ remixes of many of their songs! As long as La Roux keeps killing it, I'll be listening.
x
Friday, August 27, 2010
Models & Personality? OMFG!
 |
| The Supers |
Those were the eighties and early nineties and since then, the role of the model has evolved. Except for Gisele, who briefly resurrected the supermodel craze and managed to find an audience beyond fashion groupies, the biggest models in the world are, for the most part, unknown. Sure, you have celebrities like Heidi Klum who are recognizable to even the most style-deprived of housewives in middle America, but, though she started off as a model, Klum rose to her star wattage by becoming a businesswoman and probably even more so for marrying Seal and popping out a whole litter of insanely cute kids. To put it mildly; she's not known for lounging on red velvet sofas in Paris covered in furs, she's known for lounging in Beverly Hills playgrounds covered in baby spit-up. Huge difference. So why the change in model persona recently? It may be as simple as the age of the diva has passed. Professionalism has made its return to the industry and models nowadays are more likely to succeed if they're on time, easy to work with, and energetic and opposed to hungover, cell-phone throwing and (more than) fashionably late. It is very much a job to the new breed of top models who don't necessarily know who YSL is and why he was a legend, but will gamely pose for the newest YSL campaign. Such a mentality has its benefits for the fashion world, namely a crop of eager-to-work models who know they're easily replaceable..but where's the glamor in that?
Yes, I'm a professional too when I'm on the job, but some times I think how much sheer fun it would of been to be a top model in the decade of decadence, i.e. the eighties. Call me a glutton for glitz but seriously, how awesome would it of been to roll up to parties in the south of France on the late Versace's arm and then roll into a campaign shoot the next day in the same clothes all the while getting paid what can only be described as offensively large amounts of money for some one to take pictures of you? Nothing short of glam glam glam. My admitted superficiality aside, the working girl models of today are refreshingly modest and pushing the industry forward with their work ethic and momentum, which is not exactly glamorous but a welcome change for many.
All this professionalism is not without its downsides, and as working girls the personalities of top models doesn't exactly shine through the dress-up roles they portray in ads and editorials. Kate Moss may be the last Super whose name alone is a brand within itself, with her popular line at Topshop continually selling out each season. On the flip side, top Canadian model (and my personal favorite) Daria Werbowy has landed countless major campaigns, walked every top runway and has her flawless face posted on every other billboard worldwide, yet there is no style, look, or persona attached to her name. She is a chameleon who merely lends her face and body out to sell the clothes she's wearing in pictures. Meanwhile, actresses have filled the void of the Supers and themselves have become international brands shilling everything from Versace to Japanese colas. It's not about what bodies designer clothes look best in, but instead about what lifestyle and personalities are associated with the star who is wearing them. For a consumer to see Madonna in all her airbrushed glory posing for Versace is to see all the edginess, agelessness and continual transformation Madonna stands for in Versace's line as opposed to seeing nothing but exquisite clothes hanging off an exquisite body.
I guess the answer to where all the models have gone is quite simple: to the insides of the magazines. Covers are flat-out dominated by actress-brands and even campaigns are using mainstream celebrities more and more. (James Franco for Gucci? Really? The Green Goblin?!) While I get this is all to boost sales, I miss the days when a cover meant an amazingly flawless model working her angles in fierce poses all the while wearing some extravagantly unwearable outfit and looking sultrily unattainable while doing so....in other words fashion for the sake of fashion.
Fashion, like anything else in the world, is prone to cycles and repeating history. The time of the Supers may have come and gone in the eighties but there is sure to be a resurgence of lively, glamorous models who want to make a splash for being themselves and not just mannequins. Socially responsible it may not be, but to be a Super sure looked like a hell of a time and I for one would warmly welcome a new era of frivolous fashion for no other reason than to be extravagant, spontaneous and ultimately glam, glam and more glam.
x
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
OMFG...Veg Out.
Of all the things I fantasize about (exploring Morocco in all its fabulously glamorous mystery, a private island in the Maldives to do absolutely nothing on, a perfectly slouchy fit Burberry Prorsum bomber jacket...I could go on.) the one that's always constant is food. Yes, deliciously decadent, insanely fattening but utterly irresistible food. Despite my lanky frame (I'd like to thank my Asian freak genes for blessing me with a ridiculously fast metabolism!) I can eat what can only be described as a disgusting amount of food. I've never been one to say no to savoring a treat and I can tell you that I never will...unless of course my health it at risk which, honestly is probable at this point. I'm sorry, but I think leftover chocolate cake is a perfectly balanced way to start the day! I'm waiting for that day in my forties when my metabolism will snap and I'll balloon...but until then I'm one happy hungry little hippo.
Up until about six months ago, my diet was all-encompassing with no real dietary restrictions. However, after graduating with my degree in Environmental Resource Management I thought it best to take into consideration just how what I was eating was affecting our dear old Earth. I've never been a preachy person and obviously everyone can make decisions for themselves...so that being said, rest assured this isn't some hippie drivel I'm trying to force on everyone while wearing my Birkenstock sandals and homemade tie-dyed t-shirts. I understand that we all are accustomed to a certain lifestyle and can't all commit to living a totally environmentally impact-free existence. What is realistic is compromising in areas that are doable for you -- and for me that was adjusting my diet.
After writing countless essays on the impact of meat production and the environment, reading article after article on how meat negatively contributes to carbon dioxide emissions, land use and water scarcity, listening to hundreds of hours on the topic in lecture and all the other academic sources I jammed into my head during my four years of post-secondary education, what it took to convince me to stop eating meat was a movie I watched out of boredom one night. All right, so maybe I was turning a blind eye to my studies purposefully because I used to love meat: burgers, steak, wings, you name it and I happily devoured it! But after seeing visuals of what happens to both the animals and our Earth...well I just couldn't be blind any longer. The documentary, Food Inc., looks into where the food in North America comes from and how large conglomerate companies dominate almost everything that is sold at large chain supermarkets. It was eye-opening, informative and probably depicted behind-the-scenes footage more graphically than need be, but it worked: I was converted!
To all you out there who are thinking of becoming vegetarian, I recommend doing it the smart way. This means going to your doctor or a nutritionist and figuring out how to still get all your nourishment while being meatless. I say this because I watched the film, freaked out, cut out any and all meat products for a month only to almost faint on a plane and start bruising like a day old peach whenever anything or anyone so much as grazed my skin. Overall, being a waif, fainting, black and blue wisp of a person was not -- I repeat -- not fun.
It's been about six months now and I'm so used to being vegetarian that the thought of meat doesn't cross my mind; I don't feel deprived and I certainly don't feel faint anymore. If I had to cut out sugar, well that'd be another issue entirely....cheesecake is the best way to bribe me and pancakes are a surefire way to my heart. My point being that if you really feel you just couldn't stop eating meat then don't leap before looking! Maybe jump on board with the "Meatless Monday" movement where one day a week is meatless, or try and help our lovely Earth in other ways: Drive less and bike more. Conserve more energy around your home. Cut down on your water usage. There's a way to help that fits every lifestyle and a little knowledge it all it takes to figure out why it's well worth the change.
I'm still very much a foodie, albeit now just one who's keeping up with our changing times. Eat, drink and be merry blogees, and check out the following links for more info on Food Inc. and meat production in general:
x
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Kids? Adults? OMFG...What are we?!
An article that has been making the rounds lately among my social networking sites (Yes, I got Facebook back. I just have no will power when it comes to online over-sharing.) is about the next generation of twenty-somethings and how they're different from previous ones, published in the New York Times. It's an insightful and interesting read basically laying out the argument that youth in their twenties nowadays are pushing back the usual steps taken to reach adulthood, such as marriage, kids, being financially independent, and are instead choosing in favor of longer schooling, travel, and an overall mission to find themselves before adulthood and real-life responsibilities being.
Check it out here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/magazine/22Adulthood-t.html?_r=3&pagewanted=1&src=tptw
Well, after reading that article, and then skimming over my last blog post on right-brained thinking and endless possibilities, I let out a long "Ohhhh crap." I fit into this so-called "emerging adulthood" category to a tee...and so do most of my friends right now. Blame it on our privileged upbringings, blame it on the immense pressure there is on twenty-somethings to fulfill every aspect of their lives now in order to be happy later, and blame it on the recession, but however you put it, this generation is a walking, talking, traveling, advertisement for "emerging adulthood".
Some of the reason for this trend can of course be attributed to the changing times. Society demands different things of its youth as technology and social norms progress. I know I don't feel the need to pop out kids any time soon, partially because in middle school they made us watch a very informative but through my adolescent eyes, disgusting and horrific video called "The Miracle of Life", and partially because I know there are options out there for women choosing to have kids later on in life, such as adoption, surrogates, and fertility aids. (Although right now to be perfectly honest, the most I can picture myself with is a puppy or two, if that. Thank you, preventative sex education in middle school. Seriously, just the grossest video ever.) Couples living together without the need for marriage is widely accepted nowadays and premarital sex is, well let's just say you'd get stranger looks if you said you were against it than for it. These are but a few of the norms that have bended in regulation vastly over the last couple decades and have allowed us twenty-somethings to live in limbo for a little longer.
The big question is: is it all worth it? Does taking longer to reach adulthood ensure that the lives we live thereafter are happier and what we truly want? Having the answer to this would be like saying you had the answer to what the purpose of life is. There really is no one answer, you just have to live through it. I definitely believe in taking the time to find out exactly who you are and what makes you thrive in life before saddling yourself into any sort of norm, such as a marriage, a career-long job or a permanent location. However the ability for me to do so has its implications....I'm 23 at the moment and after 4 years of living on my own for school, I'm back at home. My parents are kind enough to be okay with this (That might be an understatement....my mom is ecstatic to have her kids home at this age -- she intercepts me with hugs every time I try and beeline for the fridge, the door, the stairs, etc.) but to know that I'm taking away instead of adding to their financial situation does not exactly sit well with me. Also, this time to see exactly what I want in the world has left me feeling a wee bit...unprepared. There's a part of me that's itching to throw myself into another city (New York!) just to see if I can make it as an adult. This prolonged adolescence has created a generation of childish twenty-somethings...myself included. I feel ill-equipped in many ways to tackle the daunting real world mainly because I've never really had to. Living on my "own" during school was within the bubble of university and within the same city where I grew up. I think part of why I'm itching is because I crave the independence generations before us had; whether I'm ready for it or not, only experience and time will tell. What justifies the stage of "emerging adulthood", for me personally, is that the one thing I'm sure of is the momentum in my life. There's undoubtedly a forward motion to where things are headed for me in recent months in my post-university era, and it's this push towards whatever it is and wherever it is I am supposed to be that keeps me calm in knowing I'm on the right track. Everyday I wake up ready to tackle the world and I'm positive that if I keep tackling, something great is just around the corner.
Ah, this mentality, another symptom of the generation, is, as the article dubs it a somewhat romantic optimism in the "sense of possibility". While the article paints this notion as being somewhat naive, it's something I believe in because I've seen it work. It's worked for me, for my close friends, for people I love, but it's only there if you're open to it. Gone are the days when the only way to climb the ladder in life was through a series of predetermined steps: now all one needs is a chance meeting with the right person, and the ability to be your own resume one hundred percent of the time. Being the best possible version of yourself as much as possible isn't just for your own self-worth and happiness...it's an undeniable asset for your professional life. I've done some of my best networking while out and about in the city, day or night, meeting like-minded people with no other explanation than we recognized something of interest in one another. Simply making yourself available to these opportunities is perhaps the most important step.
At 23, the only thing I can say for sure about myself thus far is that I'm a romantic who places a lot (maybe even too much) value on love. What I want to do with my life exactly and how I want to live it in the decades to come...well those are only vague ideas swirling around in my over-active brain right now. Travel, art, love, family, friends, progress, style, and connections are all ideas of importance to me; but how these abstracts will become concrete is something I have another couple years to figure out.
Twenty-something Jennifer is quoted in the article as saying: "It’s somewhat terrifying to think about all the things I’m supposed to be doing in order to ‘get somewhere’ successful: ‘Follow your passions, live your dreams, take risks, network with the right people, find mentors, be financially responsible, volunteer, work, think about or go to grad school, fall in love and maintain personal well-being, mental health and nutrition.’ When is there time to just be and enjoy?”
The time to "just be and enjoy" is now for me, and I owe it to myself, my good fortune at being given such an amazing opportunity, and my future to dive into my endless possibilities head first and without the slightest bit of doubt that I'll emerge more sure of myself than ever.
Everything Jennifer listed is valid...but only one stands out in my mind: to all you twenty-somethings out there as lost as I am, follow your passions as tirelessly as possible and the rest of your happiness, whatever it may be, will be sure to come.
x
Check it out here:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/magazine/22Adulthood-t.html?_r=3&pagewanted=1&src=tptw
Well, after reading that article, and then skimming over my last blog post on right-brained thinking and endless possibilities, I let out a long "Ohhhh crap." I fit into this so-called "emerging adulthood" category to a tee...and so do most of my friends right now. Blame it on our privileged upbringings, blame it on the immense pressure there is on twenty-somethings to fulfill every aspect of their lives now in order to be happy later, and blame it on the recession, but however you put it, this generation is a walking, talking, traveling, advertisement for "emerging adulthood".
Some of the reason for this trend can of course be attributed to the changing times. Society demands different things of its youth as technology and social norms progress. I know I don't feel the need to pop out kids any time soon, partially because in middle school they made us watch a very informative but through my adolescent eyes, disgusting and horrific video called "The Miracle of Life", and partially because I know there are options out there for women choosing to have kids later on in life, such as adoption, surrogates, and fertility aids. (Although right now to be perfectly honest, the most I can picture myself with is a puppy or two, if that. Thank you, preventative sex education in middle school. Seriously, just the grossest video ever.) Couples living together without the need for marriage is widely accepted nowadays and premarital sex is, well let's just say you'd get stranger looks if you said you were against it than for it. These are but a few of the norms that have bended in regulation vastly over the last couple decades and have allowed us twenty-somethings to live in limbo for a little longer.
The big question is: is it all worth it? Does taking longer to reach adulthood ensure that the lives we live thereafter are happier and what we truly want? Having the answer to this would be like saying you had the answer to what the purpose of life is. There really is no one answer, you just have to live through it. I definitely believe in taking the time to find out exactly who you are and what makes you thrive in life before saddling yourself into any sort of norm, such as a marriage, a career-long job or a permanent location. However the ability for me to do so has its implications....I'm 23 at the moment and after 4 years of living on my own for school, I'm back at home. My parents are kind enough to be okay with this (That might be an understatement....my mom is ecstatic to have her kids home at this age -- she intercepts me with hugs every time I try and beeline for the fridge, the door, the stairs, etc.) but to know that I'm taking away instead of adding to their financial situation does not exactly sit well with me. Also, this time to see exactly what I want in the world has left me feeling a wee bit...unprepared. There's a part of me that's itching to throw myself into another city (New York!) just to see if I can make it as an adult. This prolonged adolescence has created a generation of childish twenty-somethings...myself included. I feel ill-equipped in many ways to tackle the daunting real world mainly because I've never really had to. Living on my "own" during school was within the bubble of university and within the same city where I grew up. I think part of why I'm itching is because I crave the independence generations before us had; whether I'm ready for it or not, only experience and time will tell. What justifies the stage of "emerging adulthood", for me personally, is that the one thing I'm sure of is the momentum in my life. There's undoubtedly a forward motion to where things are headed for me in recent months in my post-university era, and it's this push towards whatever it is and wherever it is I am supposed to be that keeps me calm in knowing I'm on the right track. Everyday I wake up ready to tackle the world and I'm positive that if I keep tackling, something great is just around the corner.
Ah, this mentality, another symptom of the generation, is, as the article dubs it a somewhat romantic optimism in the "sense of possibility". While the article paints this notion as being somewhat naive, it's something I believe in because I've seen it work. It's worked for me, for my close friends, for people I love, but it's only there if you're open to it. Gone are the days when the only way to climb the ladder in life was through a series of predetermined steps: now all one needs is a chance meeting with the right person, and the ability to be your own resume one hundred percent of the time. Being the best possible version of yourself as much as possible isn't just for your own self-worth and happiness...it's an undeniable asset for your professional life. I've done some of my best networking while out and about in the city, day or night, meeting like-minded people with no other explanation than we recognized something of interest in one another. Simply making yourself available to these opportunities is perhaps the most important step.
At 23, the only thing I can say for sure about myself thus far is that I'm a romantic who places a lot (maybe even too much) value on love. What I want to do with my life exactly and how I want to live it in the decades to come...well those are only vague ideas swirling around in my over-active brain right now. Travel, art, love, family, friends, progress, style, and connections are all ideas of importance to me; but how these abstracts will become concrete is something I have another couple years to figure out.
Twenty-something Jennifer is quoted in the article as saying: "It’s somewhat terrifying to think about all the things I’m supposed to be doing in order to ‘get somewhere’ successful: ‘Follow your passions, live your dreams, take risks, network with the right people, find mentors, be financially responsible, volunteer, work, think about or go to grad school, fall in love and maintain personal well-being, mental health and nutrition.’ When is there time to just be and enjoy?”
The time to "just be and enjoy" is now for me, and I owe it to myself, my good fortune at being given such an amazing opportunity, and my future to dive into my endless possibilities head first and without the slightest bit of doubt that I'll emerge more sure of myself than ever.
Everything Jennifer listed is valid...but only one stands out in my mind: to all you twenty-somethings out there as lost as I am, follow your passions as tirelessly as possible and the rest of your happiness, whatever it may be, will be sure to come.
x
Monday, August 23, 2010
OMFG - No Make-up on Camera?!
What would this blog be without a little self-promotion dear blogees? I did a shoot a couple weeks ago with Toronto-based photographer Gobhi Theivendran and it turned out really well! Gobhi was really easy to work with and the vibe on set was relaxed and comfortable. It was a no make-up shoot, so all you lovely people get to see my unmade face and how I look about twelve without eyeliner...not a bad thing in the modeling world but pretty hilarious otherwise. Blame it on being Asian. An old agent of mine used to say "Asian and black don't crack!" And thank goodness for that! I had a shoot the other day with another model who was sixteen. Yes, sixteen. I was a whole third-grader older than her and, while amused that she was worrying about things like how to smuggle alcohol to her semi-formal (been there girl, vodka in water bottles and you're good to go, am I right?), I'll admit I was satisfied in knowing my shelf-life has yet to expire. Anyways, here are the shots from the no make-up shoot! We went for a grimy yet still fashion-y vibe. Enjoy and look out for many more pictures to come...x
Think & Feel...OMFG.
If I had to describe myself in two words they would be a romantic realist. The combination of being utterly, dreamily, romantic yet fully aware of the limitations of the real world makes for a somewhat conflicting existence for me: mainly one where I know better but have to feel things out on my own anyways. As I'm sure any of you can tell just by reading a few of my posts, I'm observant, logical and practical except when it comes to anything involving my heart...well, then I'm just hopeless.
The romantic part of me is very much right-brained: a creative artist who sees the world through rose-colored lenses, while the realist in me is left-brained: entirely logical and practical. Whereas the professional world was once dominated by those who are more so left-brained (Think white-collar class with multiple post-graduate degrees) there's been a shift towards valuing right-brained people in recent years. (Think artists who don't have to live off canned goods while inhabiting dirty lofts in pre-gentrified neighborhoods).
And thank goodness for this apparent shift because heavens knows I would be miserable if I had to rely on my left-brain to carry out my career chained to the helm of a desk in some monotonous office building crunching numbers or something just as static! Obviously there's still a need for left-brained individuals (I don't want some artsy-fartsy performing brain surgery on me, or anyone else I know), but the appreciation for artistic skills once seen as hobbies more or less, is carving out a spot for creative persons everywhere.
Painting, styling, decorating, and more are proving to be profitable careers for many and I couldn't be happier. Nowadays, it's sheer individual ambition that drives individuals and twenty-somethings are holding off their transitions into adulthood enticed by the seemingly endless possibilities out there. I've especially noticed this change in the fashion world as more and more people I meet are relying on being stylists, photographers, and overall media moguls as their sole way of making a living.
Of course it is not just artistic skill that is of value, but the emotional aspects that go hand-in-hand with them as well. Characteristics such as empathy and compassion are making their way into the market and not everything is as black and white as numbers and charts...and I think it's about time.
As some one who advocates emotions (that's putting is mildly) it's so refreshing to see how such feelings can be an asset to my professional life instead of a weakness. This, paired with my logicalness, will hopefully be the key to success for finding a job that I wake up everyday excited to go to! I think where this plays the most important role is in the connection between whatever market you're attempting to sell to and yourself as an individual. Being able to know that a person is not just a faceless entity and probably some one who has gone through a lot of what you have will only enhance one's ability to connect with them on whatever level necessary. What a beautiful way to do business, in my opinion at least! It's a time where by exposing your art, your craft, your skill and passion, means your client will come to you through resonating with whatever vibe you're putting out there.
I've always been confident in my skill as an artist and as a feeler (for lack of a better word. An emotion junkie? A sappy romanticist? A heart over header? Let's just stick to feeler.). I know I can write, I know I can paint, I know I have style and a way of connecting to others through empathy...and it's nice to know that the world may have confidence in me now as well. For all you out there who are lost in their twenties, struggling to decide just how you're going to find a place for yourself in this crowded world, take comfort in knowing that now, more than ever, you can be successful not just through one path, but through endless means of infinite possibilities.
x
The romantic part of me is very much right-brained: a creative artist who sees the world through rose-colored lenses, while the realist in me is left-brained: entirely logical and practical. Whereas the professional world was once dominated by those who are more so left-brained (Think white-collar class with multiple post-graduate degrees) there's been a shift towards valuing right-brained people in recent years. (Think artists who don't have to live off canned goods while inhabiting dirty lofts in pre-gentrified neighborhoods).
And thank goodness for this apparent shift because heavens knows I would be miserable if I had to rely on my left-brain to carry out my career chained to the helm of a desk in some monotonous office building crunching numbers or something just as static! Obviously there's still a need for left-brained individuals (I don't want some artsy-fartsy performing brain surgery on me, or anyone else I know), but the appreciation for artistic skills once seen as hobbies more or less, is carving out a spot for creative persons everywhere.
Painting, styling, decorating, and more are proving to be profitable careers for many and I couldn't be happier. Nowadays, it's sheer individual ambition that drives individuals and twenty-somethings are holding off their transitions into adulthood enticed by the seemingly endless possibilities out there. I've especially noticed this change in the fashion world as more and more people I meet are relying on being stylists, photographers, and overall media moguls as their sole way of making a living.
Of course it is not just artistic skill that is of value, but the emotional aspects that go hand-in-hand with them as well. Characteristics such as empathy and compassion are making their way into the market and not everything is as black and white as numbers and charts...and I think it's about time.
As some one who advocates emotions (that's putting is mildly) it's so refreshing to see how such feelings can be an asset to my professional life instead of a weakness. This, paired with my logicalness, will hopefully be the key to success for finding a job that I wake up everyday excited to go to! I think where this plays the most important role is in the connection between whatever market you're attempting to sell to and yourself as an individual. Being able to know that a person is not just a faceless entity and probably some one who has gone through a lot of what you have will only enhance one's ability to connect with them on whatever level necessary. What a beautiful way to do business, in my opinion at least! It's a time where by exposing your art, your craft, your skill and passion, means your client will come to you through resonating with whatever vibe you're putting out there.
I've always been confident in my skill as an artist and as a feeler (for lack of a better word. An emotion junkie? A sappy romanticist? A heart over header? Let's just stick to feeler.). I know I can write, I know I can paint, I know I have style and a way of connecting to others through empathy...and it's nice to know that the world may have confidence in me now as well. For all you out there who are lost in their twenties, struggling to decide just how you're going to find a place for yourself in this crowded world, take comfort in knowing that now, more than ever, you can be successful not just through one path, but through endless means of infinite possibilities.
x
Saturday, August 21, 2010
O snip, M snip, F snip G snip..
While sipping a French Martini on the patio of some nondescript lounge in the city the other hot summer night, a girl I'm friends-ish with sauntered on over and said a friendly hello. Actually -- let me clarify: the conversation went like this: "Oh. Em.Gee. Hi gorgeous! It's been soooo long! Backhanded compliment about my dress and how awesome Zara is for getting cheap clothes. What are you up to these days?! Inappropriate comment about my ex and why our relationship failed. We should totally get coffee some time! Jealous comments about some model pics I posted on Facebook ages ago. Anyways, it's sooooo good seeing you! Oh. Em. Gee!!! One more backhanded compliment for the road. Apparently my hair was going limp from the humidity." That's right bloggees, I had encountered the dreaded frenemy. For those of you not up to speed on the many shades of friends present in this complex social realm, I offer you a brief refresher course: Frenemies can be described as girls you know and occasionally hang out with who do all the talking while you roll your eyes and think in your head "Bitch, please!" They're easier to be nice to than not be nice to, simply because you know girlfriend would become a vindictive little pain in the ass if you were to, say, brush off her stories about how she just spent the last two weeks retouching her hair to get it just the right shade of peroxide blonde. Gay boys can fall under the frenemy category as well, but straight boys are exempt of the rule since, well, straight boys are incapable of being anything but straightforward and logical when it comes to friendships. (Which is sweet and all, but come on, we all know girls and gay boys are the ones who run this social business.)
I personally don't find it too hard to deal with frenemies. I've had my share and for the most part, I find them harmless and even amusing...I mean you don't even have to do any talking, they're a conversation within themselves! I've perfected standing there, nodding my head with a smile plastered on and offering advice as sincerely as I can when they tell me about problems they're going through even though I really don't know much about them aside from the fact that they like their martinis dry.
However, it's when a frenemy turns toxic, and not in that sexy, mysterious way Britney breathily sings about, that you have to do some snipping. Cutting out toxic friends is like social tailoring for me: you want to make sure your social circle is made to fit you perfectly, no loose ends, no rough edges and certainly no extra pins leftover in your custom YSL shirts to stab you in the back!
A site a I frequently visit, TresSugar, recently posted "10 Signs of a Toxic Friend", and if you know any frenemies of yours who fits even half of this list, it's time to sharpen the blade. Check out the link below!
http://www.tressugar.com/Toxic-Friend-Signs-7659989
The list is effective and precise when it comes to singling out exactly what makes a friend toxic, but if you prefer a simpler method, ask yourself one question: "Does this person make me happy?" If the answer is a big fat no, be confident that your life will be better sans the frenemy. Cutting a person entirely out entirely may seem harsh, but what has to be done has to be done and your future, happier self will thank you later. While most frenemies are harmless, it's the ones that drain the positive energy out of our lives that raise red flags. Just imagine how much lovelier a conversation I could of had with some snipping: "Oh. Em. Gee. Snip!" Bitch, please.
x
Friday, August 20, 2010
Eat, Pray, Movie Love....OMFG
Eat, Pray, Love, the memoir written by Elizabeth Gilbert finally came out in movie form last weekend. I've read the book, and while wildly popular, Gilbert received a lot of criticism for basically being a privileged, wealthy writer with no substantial problems (relatively speaking) who whines her way through Italy, India and Bali looking for whatever she thought was missing in her life and marriage before. As one critic lovingly put it: #whitepeopleproblems. Well said, but let's face it, if you're reading this from the comfort of your living room in the Western World, chances are you've been through some white people problems yourself. With social privileges acknowledged, I actually really enjoyed the novel! With no formal training in writing, Gilbert's style is simple, clear and lengthy...it's as if she's just written the streaming thoughts that run through her head. She is at times self-loathing, narcissistic, ridiculously observant and over-the-top...her words are the extent of how we all feel some times but won't admit. I could relate with her feeling out of place and desperately unhappy in a world where everything is seemingly fine and gladly read of her finding herself on her own in three very different countries. Yes, it may seem self-indulgent to leave a high-paying job in the most ambitious city in the world (New York) and take year to simply live in beautiful locations across the globe, but it was nice to take the journey with Gilbert who was selfish and fortunate enough to live it.
The movie was light and breezy as expected, and just as light and breezy in safely resolving itself. While Gilbert may have found real love in Bali, it just seemed a little too easy that a man who wanted to devote himself to her was waiting in the final destination of her trip. Sure, it can be argued that Gilbert herself was finally ready to love again and opened herself up to the opportunity after months of soul-searching, but I just didn't buy it. Attribute it to the bitter state I'm in right now, but just think of how many divorced women are going to travel to these three places only to find no Javier Bardem waiting for them at sunset ready to sail into a new life together...plenty. Sexy Brazilian men there may not be in real life, but it's the opening of oneself up to opportunity, and seeing her potential in the world again that brings the real lesson in life after losing a lover.
Easy, breezy fluff aside, there were two distracting factors in the movie that left me puzzled. One, and the most noticeable: Robert's lips. Seriously girls, if you're even considering getting injections done to your lips, take one look at this movie and see it as a warning not to. Being the biggest movie star in the world can't cover up the fact that Roberts, although radiant in appearance and lovely in her role, has a big ole trout upper lip that I could. not. stop. staring. at. Especially during scenes in Italy where there are literally close-ups of her lips in each scene. Unnatural, unnecessary and just plain silly looking...stick to what your Mama's gave you ladies, and if not, at least go the Megan Fox circa Transformers route where no one can tell. (Any further and you'll look like the Robo-Megan that's out there today -- terrifying.)
The other question mark of the movie was James Franco. Once a James Dean-esque moody heartthrob, Franco now more resembles a college kid who's kind of high and kind of scraggly and kind of stumbled onto camera with some lines to spit out. His performance was so strange, I almost expected to see him post it on Funny or Die along with the rest of his weirdly nonsensical videos on acting. Even unkempt he's still a handsome man, but the eyes-half-closed, dopey-smiled expression he had on his face the entire movie left me thinking that maybe he should stick to General Hospital for a little bit. His eccentricities are strangely attractive, but I'm just not sure they belong in a chick-lit movie.
Romanticized travel, spectacular food, and easy love are all emphasized in Eat, Pray, Love and while none-too-realistic, it was nonetheless a pleasant journey through a woman's mind and a world where every whim of an unhappy woman could be fulfilled simply because she wanted it.
x
The movie was light and breezy as expected, and just as light and breezy in safely resolving itself. While Gilbert may have found real love in Bali, it just seemed a little too easy that a man who wanted to devote himself to her was waiting in the final destination of her trip. Sure, it can be argued that Gilbert herself was finally ready to love again and opened herself up to the opportunity after months of soul-searching, but I just didn't buy it. Attribute it to the bitter state I'm in right now, but just think of how many divorced women are going to travel to these three places only to find no Javier Bardem waiting for them at sunset ready to sail into a new life together...plenty. Sexy Brazilian men there may not be in real life, but it's the opening of oneself up to opportunity, and seeing her potential in the world again that brings the real lesson in life after losing a lover.
Easy, breezy fluff aside, there were two distracting factors in the movie that left me puzzled. One, and the most noticeable: Robert's lips. Seriously girls, if you're even considering getting injections done to your lips, take one look at this movie and see it as a warning not to. Being the biggest movie star in the world can't cover up the fact that Roberts, although radiant in appearance and lovely in her role, has a big ole trout upper lip that I could. not. stop. staring. at. Especially during scenes in Italy where there are literally close-ups of her lips in each scene. Unnatural, unnecessary and just plain silly looking...stick to what your Mama's gave you ladies, and if not, at least go the Megan Fox circa Transformers route where no one can tell. (Any further and you'll look like the Robo-Megan that's out there today -- terrifying.)
The other question mark of the movie was James Franco. Once a James Dean-esque moody heartthrob, Franco now more resembles a college kid who's kind of high and kind of scraggly and kind of stumbled onto camera with some lines to spit out. His performance was so strange, I almost expected to see him post it on Funny or Die along with the rest of his weirdly nonsensical videos on acting. Even unkempt he's still a handsome man, but the eyes-half-closed, dopey-smiled expression he had on his face the entire movie left me thinking that maybe he should stick to General Hospital for a little bit. His eccentricities are strangely attractive, but I'm just not sure they belong in a chick-lit movie.
Romanticized travel, spectacular food, and easy love are all emphasized in Eat, Pray, Love and while none-too-realistic, it was nonetheless a pleasant journey through a woman's mind and a world where every whim of an unhappy woman could be fulfilled simply because she wanted it.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
OMFG -- Just a thought.
Excuse my current occupation with the subject, but love has been the topic on my mind for the past little while. For obvious reasons, I've been thinking through the notion, concept, and idea of love and how it's affected my life thus far. My dear friend Lizzy in London sent me this quote today from the book she's reading:
"If you believe yourself unfortunate, because you have 'loved and lost,' perish the thought. One who has loved truly, can never lose entirely. Love is whimsical and temperamental. Its nature is ephemeral, and transitory. It comes when it pleases, and goes away without warning. Accept and enjoy it while it remains, but spend no time worrying about its departure. Worry will never bring it back.
Dismiss, also, the thought that love never comes but once. Love may come and go, times without number, but there are no two love experiences which affect one in just the same way. There may be, and there usually is, one love experience which leaves a deeper imprint on the heart than all the others, but all love experiences are beneficial, except to the person who becomes resentful and cynical when love makes its departure.
There should be no disappointment over love, and there would be none if people understood the difference between the emotions of love and sex. The major difference is that love is spiritual, while sex is biological. No experience, which touches the human heart with a spiritual force, can possibly be harmful, except through ignorance, or jealousy.
Love is, without question, life's greatest experience."
I couldn't help but let out an "oh crap" after reading this. It's a little scary for an absolute romantic to try and grasp the fact that love is ephemeral and we should just accept that it waltzes in and out of our lives whenever it feels like it, leaving little lessons we're supposed to take away and be happy with. I don't buy it. Love is not just for show, not just a ritzy little visitor who pops by for a chat then leaves just because....and it's certainly not temporary. I feel like the author needed to justify what was going on in their love life by writing this nonsense! Honestly, if I could feel this way about it, I would. But in my core, I feel as though love is absolute, a feeling that once you truly feel it, does not go away. It's not affected by time, distance, or temperament. It's there to handle whatever hardships come its way, and come out on top in the end.
I've already eaten these words once in my young life, and I'm sure I'll face dive into them again...but it's when I'm living them that it will all make sense. Can't blame a girl for dreaming, can you?
x
"If you believe yourself unfortunate, because you have 'loved and lost,' perish the thought. One who has loved truly, can never lose entirely. Love is whimsical and temperamental. Its nature is ephemeral, and transitory. It comes when it pleases, and goes away without warning. Accept and enjoy it while it remains, but spend no time worrying about its departure. Worry will never bring it back.
Dismiss, also, the thought that love never comes but once. Love may come and go, times without number, but there are no two love experiences which affect one in just the same way. There may be, and there usually is, one love experience which leaves a deeper imprint on the heart than all the others, but all love experiences are beneficial, except to the person who becomes resentful and cynical when love makes its departure.
There should be no disappointment over love, and there would be none if people understood the difference between the emotions of love and sex. The major difference is that love is spiritual, while sex is biological. No experience, which touches the human heart with a spiritual force, can possibly be harmful, except through ignorance, or jealousy.
Love is, without question, life's greatest experience."
I couldn't help but let out an "oh crap" after reading this. It's a little scary for an absolute romantic to try and grasp the fact that love is ephemeral and we should just accept that it waltzes in and out of our lives whenever it feels like it, leaving little lessons we're supposed to take away and be happy with. I don't buy it. Love is not just for show, not just a ritzy little visitor who pops by for a chat then leaves just because....and it's certainly not temporary. I feel like the author needed to justify what was going on in their love life by writing this nonsense! Honestly, if I could feel this way about it, I would. But in my core, I feel as though love is absolute, a feeling that once you truly feel it, does not go away. It's not affected by time, distance, or temperament. It's there to handle whatever hardships come its way, and come out on top in the end.
I've already eaten these words once in my young life, and I'm sure I'll face dive into them again...but it's when I'm living them that it will all make sense. Can't blame a girl for dreaming, can you?
x
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