Archive for April 2010
Maybe it’s the countless times I’ve had to read papers making a teleological argument for cinema’s inception in the many turn-of-the-century games and apparatuses that foregrounded vision over all other senses, the famous zoetrope that relies on the phenomenon of the persistence of vision etc., but I often find myself playing a fun little vision game when I have absolutely nothing better to do. I pick a colour and keep repeating it in my mind as I let my eyes run wild all over the room – oddly enough, suddenly my eyes are drawn only to objects of that colour. Then I’ll switch colours and again, a whole different set of objects are brought to my attention. Try it! I swear it works!
What does this have to do with fashion and being eurotrash?
Well, it all started with a little trip I took to my dad’s house a few nights ago to get a space heater for my place because, although it is almost May, below-normal temperatures paired with high ceilings, large windows and no heating makes for very chilly nights. While I was perusing through the rec room or wreck room as we like to call it (my dad’s makeshift office/music room/gym) I found a bunch of retro books that were just my speed: Harold Robbins’ smash hit 79 Park Avenue and Julia Percivall’s The Stewardess. I guess you could say eurotrash has a thing for trashy, old-school paperbacks with kitschy covers and valley of the dolls-esque female protagonists. What got me going were the bright lilac block letters on Robbin’s cover; just like when I play my colour game, my mind has been on lilac overdrive ever since!
Last night I picked out a new skin for my blackberry, lilac.
Today I got my nails done, lilac.
Tonight I took some pictures of all the lilac things that are plaguing my life at the moment.
Tomorrow I’ll wear my lilac PINKO hat to work. Why fight it? After all, it’s just my eyes playing tricks on me…
OPI NAIL LACQUER in DO YOU LILAC IT
JUICY COUTURE velour tracksuit
MISS SIXTY denim jacketTweet
Every morning eurotrash escapes into her secret world of blogs, i think this is called the blogosphere, whatever, and spends about an hour catching up on the last 24 hours in the life of The Blonde Salad, Caronline Blomst, Late Afternoon, A Cup of Jo, Fashion Toast, Life is Glossy, Not a Model, Miss Sly, Gallery Femme, Pig Chic, Sonia Grispo and of course, The Sartorialist. She takes no phone calls, emails or facebook chats and simply indulges in a large cup of coffee, puffed kashi cereal and her own little oath to doing all of the above strictly in pyjamas.
These past couple of mornings the rise and shine has been earlier than usual because for those of you who don’t know, although unequivocally few, eurotrash has been working intermittently at St. Clair Pharmacy her whole goddamn life. This week she’s filling in for someone; it’s only been 2 days and j’en ai assez! However, the pharmacy is more like an extension of her eurotrash life than an actual “job, JOB”. On a typical day, the coffee arrives every few hours either by a tim’s run, which she gladly takes, or via the 70 year old italian waiter who delivers foamy cappuccinos on his little tray, dodging street cars as he journeys from bar Tricolore to the caffeinated pharmacy staff across the street. She could literally blog all day about the weird little bubble that is St. Clair West and all its characters (Pape the immortal, Leo the Lion, Shorty Bum Bum, Big Head). Maybe one day soon she will, but not today.
Today instead she must blog about another set of characters, ones that have a reoccurring status on this site, the one and only DISNEY CHARACTERS! Every so often eurotrash must dedicate a post to Disney paraphernalia – the Iceberg mickey mouse duffle, the maga mago` PINKO bags, the LIU JO walt disney t-shirts etc, etc. What she recently learned from a few of her daily blogs is that Elle Spain has featured a spread of all our favourite designers sketched as Disney characters by artist, Ulrich Schröder. It is tres tres cute and everything that eurotrash could ever ask for. And even though all the other blogettes are talking about it too, she felt she was especially entitled to let the whole world know that disney and fashion are living happily ever after.
Last night eurotrashed it up at the chic tapas bar, NYOOD in Toronto for her chic best friend’s birthday. It all started with us planning on going to starbucks or something low-key like that because the birthday girl was feeling the weight of all her 25 years and “didn’t want to do anything”. Then we thought, well maybe we should at least eat something, break bread if you will, at one of our neighbourhood Terroni’s since we would all most likely be hungry Saturday night around dinnertime. However, it wasn’t until 7pm night of when I was certainly still procrastinating getting dressed that the birthday girl called me herself to tell me there had been a sudden change of plans:
We were doing her birthday, and we were doing it right!
Happily, I put on my dancing shoes, re-vamped my outfit and grabbed my camera. I really think she just needed an excuse to rock her new jumpsuit and vintage mink bolero – and I needed an excuse to blog about it!
Happy Birthday, Kat!
Just because The Blonde Salad was one of the first bloggettes to share her skull obsession with the world doesn’t mean that the rest of us can no longer call dibs on the more macabre side of fashion. Besides doesn’t everyone and their mother own an Alexander McQueen skull scarf now that he’s dead? All I know is that if I had been McQueen I would’ve drafter my will so that pieces of my decomposing skull would be sold on ebay when I died – so meta.
Eurotrash is of the persuasion that the more is the merrier when it comes to fashion and social settings. In today’s age of mass production, showing up at prom wearing the same dress as another girl is almost a guarantee, especially if they were having a sale at BCBG. I mean, every week there’s the “Who wore it better?” column in US Weekly where readers can vote which out of two celebrities wearing the same piece rocked it. (I only know this thanks to my nail salon’s extensive magazine repertoire and that I can’t sit still under the drier 3x without wondering what Lindsay Lohan is up to these days). So yes, it’s quite probable that the new t-shirt I bought at H&M the other day will be donned by thousands, if not millions, of other people this Spring. And so, I have rightfully justified my penchant for skulls.
Giuseppe Zanotti Skull Sandals
But I highly doubt thousands, let alone millions, will be sporting the Giuseppe Zanotti skull sandals I cried at the window for at David’s yesterday. They are 2 die for – kinda like Alexander McQueen’s osseous remains. My sister practically forced me into the store to check the price, I already knew that was a step in the wrong direction but I was easily persuaded, until I turned the shoe over and almost really did die. It was like that “Are you having a stroke?” commercial when the violins start going flat and the word WEAKNESS drips down the TV screen:
FIVE HUNDRED AND NINETY-FIVE DOLLARS (sans tax)!
Who do they think they got? Chelsea Clinton?* I can’t believe they would actually charge that much for what could only be classified as glorified flip-flops. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they are absolutely stunning, but I am not prepared to drop 700 on a pair of flats that I can only realistically wear with jeans, shorts and a casual summer dress, all graciously highlighting my favourite body part: my cankles.
Dear Davids, please ROLLBACK your prices so I can feed my skull obsession!
* Chris Tucker, Rush Hour (1998).Tweet
Although I love the thrill of getting something new, fervently ripping the tags off of it and wearing it to death that same day, I also adore the quiet satisfaction of falling in love again with something old. Tonight my mom and I will feast on all you can eat sushi and so before I pick out something to wear, preferably something with an expanding waistband, I decided to take a stroll around my room for inspiration. Here’s some photos of the things I’ve owned for a long time and have recently resurrected in light of a tight budget and a sunny afternoon. Instead of a garden gnome, I present the cute coaster I got in Quebec City as an accompaniment to a few of my favourite things for Spring 2010.Tweet
People watch Jersey Shore for different reasons; most of us watch it to revel in the fact that good fortune destined our birthplace to be somewhere other than Jersey and thus precluded the unsettling possibility that we could’ve grown up to be a Guido or Guidette. However, if you’re an italo-canadian from Woodbridge there is the slight chance that fortune has imparted upon you the Gino or Gina title, permutations of the Guido/Guidette gene, and in which case, you most likely watch Jersey Shore to revel in the fact that all those wannabe juice heads got nuthin on you, bro!!!
Then there’s people like me, who flirted with the idea of reppin’ the Gina lifestyle once upon a time in high school when it was cool to wear Invicta bags, low-grade Diesel apparel and, shudder, HEX BOOTS. Not to mention we used to vacation to places like Wasaga Beach; wait a minute, that was in, er, second year university. What can I say… it’s been a long battle.
Luckily, I settled for Eurotrash instead. But other than the private realization that I am capable of identifiying with the Guidette lifestyle a little more than I’d like to admit, the main reason I like to watch Jersey Shore is because of their steadfast commitment to refining, toning, tanning and tweaking their bodies and simultaneously, their nightly commitment to its destruction. Eurotrash can identify wholeheartedly with this vicious cycle. After a summer of complete debauchery by carbohydrates and booze, eurotrash came home and quit all the vices that were plaguing her life, switched to eating organic, drank green tea instead of coffee, kept her booze intake to low-cal vodka tonics and only on the weekends, and lastly, became a self-proclaimed runner. I was sure to look just like this by summertime:
What I slowly discovered was that this lifestyle change somehow came with its own antidote in the form of heinekens, late-night fast food binges, daily tim horton’s iced coffee runs after stumbling upon an article that listed the healthy benefits of caffeine, and skipping a few 3 -milers because I somehow managed to get shin splints from all the running, of course. As I sit here eating Vector out of the box to boost my carb intake before pumping some iron later this afternoon I know two things: I’ve already passed the 1 serving count and second, I have yet to make up my mind as to what looming season I am actually preparing myself for: Bikini season or Patio?! The latter comes with a large order of fries, a crisp pint of Creemore and couple of ciggies; the former requires not a six pack of beer but an emaciated grin and 1 large bottle of evian.
And with all the media saying no to muffin tops and all the various things I see everytime I stand infront of a full length mirror, I start to concede that the patio season will probably reign triumphant. But this is where Jersey Shore proffers a shred of hope for people like me who have the tendency to play the role of both BFF and arch nemesis when it comes to taking care of our bodies. If the Situation can still have his Situation by summer’s end, inspite of all the cigarettes he smokes, vodka he drinks and calzoni he eats, then so too can eurotrash. God bless reality TV.Tweet
RUDSAK F/W 2010
This winter, wholesale t-shirt enterprises will have to solve a complex equation before silk screening the latest catch phrase: If black is the new white, and white is the new black, then do the two cancel each other out to yield the restoration of our colour spectrum where black is black and white is white?
On the fall runways last week, black was black, black was white, white was black, white was white – and what’s more, this meddling with colour ontology almost always came in the form of the tuxedo. White blouses and shirts with starched collars paired with a black pant suit, or a pretty black skirt were the fare for this B & W aesthetic. Some shows switched up the order and featured white jackets and suits with black as the accent colour; my favourite of which was the white ski jacket at RUDSAK paired with black legging-pants, boots and accessories.
As my old professor, Rocco Capozzi, once said to me when describing, in detail, the flight he took to italy in early october: “I wore a crisp, white linen suit because thanksgiving hadn’t passed yet, and you know what they say: no white after thanksgiving”. So just do it, wear white (albeit winter white, anything too ashy won’t help the cause) and wear it with black and then wear it with white again. These classic colours unfold their own drama: they sleep with one another, have existential identity crises, and are of course, two of eurotrash’s favourite shades to wear. In fact, right now she is blogging clad in white pyjama pants, black tank and black pedicured toes. Coincidence or inspiration? Well, it IS after Easter Sunday…
I keep a magazine cut-out of this exact picture above my desk – the models are wearing
shu uemura feather lashes and I just absolutely love it.
As promised, eurotrash is back to give you more insights on what fall habits you should develop based on common trends she saw on last week’s runways. Funny enough, after she blogged about not breaking her routine etc, etc, she switched up her bag for the last day of fashion week and forgot her beloved green mechanical pencil at home! Luckily, the ever-organized, Erica Cupido of Life is Glossy, came to her rescue. That’s why eurotrash is still a rookie and Erica, judging by the way she schmoozed the front row not even 5 minutes upon entering the joint, is very much a seasoned expert.
Feathered headbands at Basch Fall 2010
In addition to fur, which as I said before, is the mecca for fall wear this season, Canadian designers gave us les plumes partout! And it just so happens that eurotrash decided to resurrect her black feather headband on day 2 of FW only to find feathers on the runway on days 3 and 4. Not only did models grace the catwalks donning feather dresses, skirts and headbands, but in some cases the designers were bold enough to add feathered wings to shoulders, like the angel dress at Pat McDonagh. Some may say this fall feather fashion trend is for the birds but eurotrash, who would even dare to wear tiny feathers on her eyelashes, will be the first to start plucking.
Feathers at LOVAS Fall 2010
Feathers on dresses and Angel wings at Pat McDonagh Fall 2010
So, big deal, eurotrash has put off blogging about fall trends until tomorrow morning. I mean, once fashion week came to an end the last thing she wanted was more fashion week. Instead, eurotrash spent the weekend catching up with friends and coming to the inevitable conclusion that she is taking a hiatus from clubbing. Besides, she is tired of wasting good outfits on a room full of people clad in ed hardy, cellulite friendly skirts and the worst selection of footwear since Payless became cool. And maybe it was just the easter season that called for the resurgence of the jesus piece last night at Maro, but eurotrash fears the worst: one too many boys actually think it’s cool to wear a chunky 24k baptismal necklace in plain view over their shirt. Like for real, what’s a girl supposed to think when she’s talking to you and has got Jesus on the cross staring her straight in the eye? Thou shalt not…
Some way-back-play-back pieces, on the other hand, are actually tres chic and as my best friend found out last night, too good to wear to a club. I love the thought that one day my granddaughter will be wearing my green balenciaga out and will tell all her friends it was her nonna’s old purse from 2010. (Operative word: the thought). Thank the lord we are still the granddaughters and get to enjoy wearing our nonna’s old purses from the 50s for a few more wrinkle-free and collagen-plentiful years.
My bff’s outfit last night inspired me to take some pictures of my own “nonna’s bag” (see above) that the late Nonna Aldina once wore and that eurotrash plans on wearing when she needs some down time from her own future nonna’s bags and presently, guys with crosses.