Posts tagged little burgundy
Please play this ol’ gem while you read along – and if you’re not done by the time it stops (or if you just get way too distracted by the FIERCENESS THAT IS KELLY to pay attention to my shizz), crank this:
Amanda Lepore is great, I guess. I didn’t even show she produced music – good music, rather. Maybe she doesn’t and this is a one-off. Whatever the case, her mouth is cray-cray like Rey Rey and I was feeling that.
oh em gee, could you imagine? Nyah. I move my mouth way too much for voluntary fake parts.
Plus, Style Exchange is like, 5 minutes from my place and my makeup was already did from an MTV shoot earlier that evening (Thanks Lucky!) so I decided to scurry on over to amp up the weird factor in that joint and BUY SOME SHOES AT NIGHT.
Hey JC, JC, would you sparkle for me? Zana Ho, Zana Hey, Shoeperstar!
Miss Cotton Venus was dope. Great DJ!
I didn’t get any shoe-shopping done at all that evening. Too busy chatting and playing and trying on clothes.
Bwahaha, Jeremy photobombed me good.
There were fake eyelashes and candy and FLOAM, wee!
Usually, taking photos inside any store is forbidden (laaaame) so I went nuts while I could because of that compulsive urge I have to take photos of everything that makes me smile. Hence all the Twitpics of dogs.
Here are a few non-footwear things I liked:
I’ve been reading about these Herschel bags a bit. Real simple, really cool.
I’ve want a Moose Knuckle coat this season. A red one. So warm. The TNA parka I have for Canada-cold weather is so UWO and I’m almost 2 years out of school now. Wow.
“If the Internet had a spirit animal, it would be a cat.” – Little Burgundy Magazine , S/S 2011
What is it about felines that makes we the Interfolk love them so damned much? Better question: Why am I blogging right now instead of actively acquiring more cats?
Perhaps I’m just too lazy to put on a pair of pants at the moment, but more likely it’s because I can get my fur fix online without physically having to hug every cat.
I wonder if crazy cat lady populations have increased or decreased since the dawn of the modern web…
Oh, who am I kidding – I’d put that sweater on my cat in a heartbeat. It’s effing awesome.
The Internet and kitties go together like peanut butter and M&M’s, in my opinion. Not the most conventional of combinations, but it’s charming as hell…
No examples are needed to illustrate this point (I give them to you all the freaking time, greedy sods) but here’s one anyway: All 7 Harry Potter films in just over a minute, as acted out by cats:
“I have boobs now!” Hahaha. SO GOOD.
Anyhoo, Last week I ducked into Little Burgundy for the purpose of lusting over some House of Harlow wedges I do not need and – LO & BEHOLD! – A SALE! A big big sale. I bought too much.
Fortunately, my little spending binge was justified because I got one thing foh free. The best thing of all things, in fact:
C’est Little Burgundy’s Spring/Summer 2011 Magazine: The Cat Issue!
I’m a big fan of these lookbook / hipsterzine hybrids. It takes a lot of creativity to make branded editorial content genuinely palatable. H&M does it well, and Little Burgundy hit out of the park with this. Big ups to their
The articles and interviews were penned (keyed, rather) almost entirely by bloggers – good ones, too – and the “hipster cats” illustrations were done by Toronto’s own Melinda Josie. I’ve never met her but I think I love her.
Please do yourself a favour and visit the Little Burgundy Cat Issue microsite for a good chunk of hot shoes and kitty-related content:
I also enjoyed the page with photos from their Future Issue party because I was on it, sort of. See that little quarter of a blonde head in the background there? 100% me. I was talking to that dude forever and was the only severely platinum girl there if I do recall.
Last night, I went to a different party at that very same gallery. The only other time I’ve been there, in fact. It was the annual VICE Photo show in Toronto and it was a hot hipsterlicious mess. Literally. Walking into Show & Tell last night, I felt like I was entering a steam room – except the air was not thick with water, it was thick with Pabst Blue Ribbon and sweat.
The photo essays I saw were incredible (Check out Brett Grundlock’s “The Movement” – powerful stuff), but I think most of these kids came for the free PBR. It was cray-cray near the bar.
I did some other fun things this week when I wasn’t busy pulling my hair out 10-6. Carly‘s sister Kristin had a launch party for her new boutique Hate & Heartbreak on Monday and Raymi danced. It was sexy and fun and great to see my blogging babes. Casie wrote all about it here.
The Blondetourage be making me happy <3
I’ve got to go now. Gunna channel this guy and make like a sick, fearless bastard right now… Going to unload my dishwasher TWO CUPS AT A TIME. I might even start a new book.
Fridays are tired days. It was a really long, hard one today.
(For the record: Little Burgundy didn’t pay me to write this or give me free crap or even knows that I’m in love with them probably. I just really like cats.)
Y’all know I love me some rapper boys, right? (and if you don’t know, now you know…)
Lil Wayne has, over the past couple of years, flowed his way deeper into my heart than I ever could have imagined back in 1999 when I first started feeling him:
Hehe. Bebe Wayne.
Weezy’s blown up huge since his Hot Boys days to become one of the best rappers alive – and if you have even an ounce of appreciation for lyrical artistry, clever wordplay and creative metaphors, you won’t disagree with me (or millions of others) on that. Homeboy is entertaining as hell and, social conscience be damned for a moment, that’s what I value most in an artist.
Lil Wayne was signed to Cash Money when he was NINE YEARS OLD. I was six at the time, and did not follow hip hop yet but can appreciate how huge that was in retrospect.
I love Weezy, really I do. Something about his voice still makes my knees weak. He’s not my type, at ALL, and yet…
Now, knowing how much I admire and Enjoy Mr. Carter, you can understand why when I stumbled upon this T-shirt during one of my daily tromps through Kensington Market, it was not a question of whether or not to buy it, but how exactly I would rock it once I owned it:
“Casually” was obvious. Jean cutoffs, ponytail, the swagger of a H.A.M….
I walked around this betch of a city like a pilot getting compliments all day long. Gym people loved the shirt. Shoe shop people loved the shirt. Random sidewalk people loved the shirt. Errybody love Weezy.
After hours and hours of shoe shopping on Queen West (I <3 you LB), I came home to eat and change – but I didn’t really want to take the shirt off… so I didn’t.
Little shorts, big shoes, silver cuff and zipper ring. Black, white and badass!
I had a really fun random night, Lonelygirl styles.
Bascially, I rolled around solo popping in and out of different King West clubs, bumping into old friends and making new ones along the way. Tried to go to a concert on Queen West, and then the Drake, but the lines were huge so I ended up on College.
Points of interest include stumbling upon a legit rave at a CHURCH (90s rewind), helping some very funny Americans hop a fence, sassing off at some creepers in Brassai (I love to PWN douchebags), and capturing the squelette seats at Sneaky Dees!
I was only there for maybe 10 minutes in total, but am glad I stopped by to (FINALLY) check them out. In case you didn’t know, I kind of have a thing for skeletons. Got these “skullies” from Jibe Jewellery last week. LOVE <3
I am going to go fix my fan and watch Tosh now, because it’s 100 degrees in this apartment and I need to get a decent night’s sleep. Big week ahead and all that.
This weird freaking cake that was custom made for Alec Baldwin’s 14-year-old daughter (?)…
And also, Me.
Oh me, Oh my. The fashion binge continues…
Yesterday, I set out to grab a coffee from the best little indie java joint / frogurt haven in my hood and returned two hours and too many dollars later with this:
I never did get that coffee, but I’m not even sure that I really intended to get one in the first place. Okay, that’s a lie – I always want coffee – but my foray into the BWV may have been motivated by more than caffeine withdrawal…
Sale? Not so much. And yet…
I’m in love with the first dress and the third outfit but the middle dress is a little similar to something I already have and, to be honest, a git generic for the price. I might return it for something a little more stylish. What do you think?
Living on this strip is a blessing and a curse. The local shop girls know my name, size, fit… they’re even starting to know my style. I love that. It feels good.
This, on the heels of Saturday’s mini shoe-buying spree (PUN INTENDED! bwahahaha) after my Build-a-Bear adventure (more on THAT tomorrow).
Thankyouuuu Spring and Little Burgundy:
Stop judging me, Cat.
I’m not out of control or anything. Really, I spend far less on clothes and shoes than many women I know – annnnd to be fair, it’s sort of a work-related expense (I NEED to look fly on camera and I can’t be pulling repeats).
It’s just that I tend to feel sort of guilty when I do buy a lot of clothes because I’m accustomed to feeling guilty for spending money on things that aren’t school-related or life-sustaining.
After 22 years of being a student, this is my first time having a real grown-up job with real grown-up money.
The challenge for me is keeping in mind that I have real grown-up bills to pay now too. Big city bills.
Realistically, I should be pinching pennies now more than ever. I do hope to own a place with a driveway one day…
That said, you’re only young once.
I’d hate to look back on this time when I’m a rich 50-year-old (fingers crossed) who’s unable to pull off a micro mini without looking totally cougish and lament over the fact that I decked my self in cheap fugly threads when I could have been wearing… well, this, this, this, this, this and this. AND THIS:
I’ll hold off on the holiday dresses for now (I’ve got a closet full of archives) and maybe cut back on my latte spending too. But I’ll probably buy a new snowboard this season, ’cause life is about more than cash money in the bank.
What’s the point of living a fabulous life if you don’t feel fabulous in what you wear?
… rife with drool-worthy footwear, intergalactic fortune cookies and Donkey Kong Jenga.
Based on what I saw last night at Little Burgundy and ION Magazine’s WELCOME TO THE FUTURE event, the Future is Good.
At least my future is good – but that’s because I chose the blue pill.
The F/W 2010 magazine looks fantastic, and I think this next picture pretty much sums up how I feel about what’s in store for Spring 2010.
I’ve been loving on LB since I moved to Toronto in May and scored a particular pair of Michael Kors pumps I’d wanted that I couldn’t find anywhere else.
As much as I love e-shopping for shoes because I can’t get the brands I want in Canada… well, I don’t love that at all. So it’s nice to have a local shop that brings in so many sweet things from around the world.
Fashion imports keeps us Canuckies stylin’ so we don’t show up in L.A. wearing mukluks and parkas (or worse – the Canadian tuxedo) when we go on vacay — Assuming that we go on vacations to Los Angeles, which I obviously don’t… BUT, I did find out something pretty important last night from a cookie.
Maybe I’ll be making a trip down south soon to meet MY REAL FATHER.
I hope Bill Gates wrote that fortune cookie. Not because I actually want him to be my dad (Daddy O’Nizzle rules) I just want Gates to pay me 18 years of retroactive child support.
That’s a lot of boots and rings.