Jun
2018

What I Watched: Random Musings

categories: Trifles

This has been a hard week full of news that left me heartsick, over and over. Frivolous pastimes, like this blog, seem pointless in times like these — or, worse, a guilty luxury. And yet, these are also the small things that help to keep me going. I have never been more grateful that I have the privilege of distraction; that, by some lucky twist of fate, my immigrant parents sought a new life in a country that was not afraid to welcome us with open arms. I am not sure how much longer it will be feasible to maintain an apolitical space like this blog given the current climate; for now, I am going to embrace a little frivolity on this Friday morning and I hope you guys will join me in the same spirit.

As the title suggests, some random musings:

One

I recently fell down a My So-Called Life rabbit hole. Can you believe MSCL was on the air more than 20 years ago? It does not compute. I still, vividly, remember watching it; it was weirdly cathartic. I was roughly the same age as Angela Chase and vaguely resembled the actress playing her. My teenage life was far less eventful than Angela’s, but watching the show still somehow felt like watching my inner landscape blown up on a screen. There is just one thing I hated about it. The ending. I remember my teenage self being really mad at Angela for choosing Jordan effing Catalano over Brian. Which is weird, because in real life I was all about the Jordan Catalano types for a long time – far too long into my 20s even. Anyway, reading a bunch of retrospectives on the show and whatnot, I got to wondering: was I in the minority in wanting Angela to pick Brian? Was I wrong? I mean, I know I felt very strongly about my opinion at the time but I went on to make the exact same choice as Angela more times than I care to remember, so what was that all about? If you watched the show (then and/or later), let’s talk through this.

Two

A couple of weeks ago, I saw a clip of Stephen Colbert and Patrick Wilson singing the US national anthem at some kind of sports game. I don’t remember what kind of game, don’t ask; my priorities are different, okay? More importantly, my latent Patrick Wilson Problem has now flared up again. “Tall, captain of the football team who can sing” is only just below “dark-haired, broody Brit” on my list of Hot Guy Problems. See, also, Scott Michael Foster. The fact that Wilson, self-admittedly, resembles the Least Chris (the Pratt – are we going to fight about this?) is something I struggled with for a minute, but all that is behind us now. Anyway, the last time my Patrick Wilson Problem was in full effect, I didn’t have Netflix. Now, I do. And that is how I came to binge-watch Fargo, which is, in fact, the point of this entire aside. I know I am super late to this particular party, but that is one damn good show. I haven’t gotten into an episodic drama for a while, but this is the best thing I’ve seen since Hannibal last year. Season 2 may be impossible to top (Lou Solverson could just be my dream man), but I am watching season 1 now and it’s also really, really great. As a whole, the show reminds me of The Wire, with its interconnected story lines set in a common “universe” — and also, obviously, the quality of the writing and acting. The performances on Fargo are, across the board, phenomenal, and it’s making me realize how spoiled we are with TV shows these days; even supporting roles are filled by first caliber actors. Thank god for the Golden Age of TV because I’m at a stage where I’d much rather watch a show, on my own schedule and from the comfort of my own house, than trek to a movie theatre to gamble 2 hours of my life on something that may or may not ultimately satisfy.

Three

I have never seen Sleepless in Seattle. Is that a weird gap in my cultural knowledge as a late Gen-X white woman? The reason is that I mostly hate rom-coms, unless they happen to feature one of my Hot Guy Problems du jour. Anyway, I really enjoyed this Vulture article about Sleepless in Seattle’s second-banana male character played by the wonderful Bill Pullman. It brings up a great point about how kindness — in male romantic leads, but I would argue, also more generally in pop culture protagonists — is underappreciated. Think about how many popular characters would qualify as anti-heroes these days; most popular shows and movies are replete with examples. It’s novel and, frankly, refreshing to come across a protagonist who is straight up nice. I’m not talking about a Nice Guy here – because, ugh, we’ve seen enough of those lately; I mean a guy who is the (old) definition of nice: kind and humble, without being a fool or a patsy or a sanctimonious prick. I am sure that it’s not a coincidence that my hankering for a “nice” hero is surfacing at this precise moment, and I can only assume that I’m not the only one in this particular boat. We are currently an under-served demographic, so I hope someone in Hollywood is taking notes.

As a further side-bar to the side-bar, the article reminded me of how much I love reading new takes on the minor footnotes of pop culture. Like, the first time I realized how terrible Love Actually actually is? Amazing. I mean, I will still watch Love Actually every single time it comes on TV, but I loved that article so much.

Four

Celebrity gossip: indulge me for a moment. If you read the same websites I do, you may recall the roll-out of Brad Pitt’s “relationship” with Neri Oxman – the Amal Clooney of the architecture world, or something like that. It was a thing a couple months back. I stopped having strong opinions about Brad Pitt a long time ago, so if there was an interesting angle to the story, for me, it was Oxman’s; there was a little tidbit about how she had been dating a billionaire, and was now dealing with Brad Pitt and I remember thinking – damn, girl. Talk about living one’s best life: a successful, well-respected professional woman, with a billionaire and a famous actor vying for her attentions. (Why is no one making this movie, by the way? I have some casting ideas.) But that was then, and now there’s been an update. Apparently, she chose the billionaire; which, at first, I was totally prepared to understand. Brad Pitt has baggage, you know? And he doesn’t have billions. Also, he’s no Patrick Wilson. But then – plot twist! – I found out who the billionaire is. Are you ready for this? Bill-I’m-gonna-short-Herbalife-but-also-dump-billions-into-Valeant-Ackman. So, now I’m, like, maybe there’s a third option. Maybe Angela Neri should just ride off into the glorious sunset alone. Who’s with me?


Jun
2018

I Did A Thing, Vol. 7

categories: Uncategorized

This blog might not be good for much, but it’s a workable excuse for all kinds of self-indulgent projects because … blog content, amirite? Anyway, I love an excuse to “experiment” with “science” so blogging it is. Those scare quotes are there for a reason, by the way, because what I’m going to talk about today is actually more in the line of playing around with skincare. But that doesn’t sound nearly as cool, sigh.

You may recall that, a few months ago, I busted my skincare budget when I decided to splurge on some Dr. Jart Cicapair Tiger Grass Cream. I like the cream a lot, but maybe not $60 worth of a lot. I started to look around for a plausible dupe and, lo, I found not one but two. Sort of.

First, L’Oreal definitely jumped on the centella asiatica bandwagon with Revitalift Cicacream. This usually sells for about $30CAD at Shoppers, which is half the price of the Dr. Jart cream, but still on the high side for me. One day, I found it on sale for under $20CAD, which is when I decided it was worth trying. For science, you understand. (Also because, as we have established before, $20 is the magical number my threshold for impulse buys.)

The second product I decided to try was the Roche Posay Cicaplast Baume. This actually does not contain the same active ingredient as the Dr. Jart cream, though the name sounds similar which is what drew me to it in the first place. I’ve done exactly zero research into this (which is, come to think of it, par for the course for my “science experiments”), but I think the “Cica” comes from cicatrice – the French word for “scar”. Both creams are supposed to aid in healing damaged skin, you see. The Cicabalm was around $20CAD (regular price) at Shoppers; for what it’s worth, you can also get it on Amazon for around the same price, and it has very good reviews.

My experiment went something like this: I switched from using the Dr. Jart cream (every morning, after my lactic acid, and before sunscreen) first to the Roche Posay, and then to the L’Oreal cream. I gave each new cream a month’s trial; I figured this would be long enough to see any effects, differences, etc. And? I’m sure you are on the edge-of-your-seat excited to hear about the results. Well … sorry. The truth was that I really didn’t see any real difference among the 3 creams. All 3 worked well as moisturizers for my normal-to-dry skin. I experienced no adverse effects, though I also saw no dramatic change.

With that said, here are my (subjective) impressions:

I *think* I like the Dr. Jart cream the best, though the Roche Posay is a close second. Oddly, I think I like the slight medicinal smell of the Dr. Jart cream and its consistency (more balm-like). Also, it’s green. The Roche-Posay smells nicer, though not in a skincare-fragrance sort of way. It’s lighter and absorbs more quickly than the Dr. Jart. The L’Oreal cream is the one that feels (and smells) the most like a typical face cream. I don’t hate it, but I also don’t feel like raving about it, if you know what I mean.

What’s next? Since I am nowhere close to finishing any of my current tubes, my plan is to use the Roche-Posay and L’Oreal creams through the summer and fall, then switch to the Dr. Jart in the winter because I find it a little bit heavier (and, in my mind, slightly more moisturizing). When the time to re-purchase comes, I think I’m going to go with Roche-Posay. I like it a lot, it’s easily accessible, and it’s relatively inexpensive (at $0.50/ml, it’s cheaper than the other two: Dr. Jart, $1.20/ml; L’Oreal, $0.60/ml).

If you’ve done any “experimenting” of your own recently, and have some good discoveries to share, let me know in the comments.


Jun
2018

What I Wore: June 11-17, 2018

categories: Uncategorized

Grey Matters

8E763A68-06A0-4ED2-9182-2D959C570408

 

I raved about these Cartonnier trousers last week, but here we are again. They are great! This is the grey version, obvi. Thrifting well-fitting pants is not easy, so I’m still thrilled to have scored TWO pairs for under $20. I’m less enthusiastic about the top, which I got at my last clothing swap; it has some cool details – love the pockets – but it’s also kinda finicky. I’m not crazy about the collar, and while the tie detail is intriguing, it also hits at a tricky spot (it covers the waistband of a medium rise trouser, but only just). I am also not sure about how the silk-like poly fabric will wash ‘n wear, and I’m generally not a fan of fussy materials. So, the top is in limbo but I did really enjoy this outfit.

 

All About the Bag

EB02A4EE-7802-4715-8021-D36B49EBF7F2

 

It’s been a long time since I took out one of my designer bags for a spin. I think it’s a function of my current casual work environment and extended commute. Anyway, last week I felt a nostalgic urge to pull out one of my old lovelies, and I figured that a weekend would be my best bet. It’s not so much that my weekends are anything but casual; I just have fewer practical constraints to consider, plus it’s easier to pull off this sort of high-low outfit because, well, on weekends I’m in IDGAF mode. So then … Louis Vuitton bag and distressed jeans? With a fringe vest? And leopard print shoes? Sure, why not.

 

Pea-coquette

E79B7ED2-7AD2-4FAD-BE91-1322C577E10D

Am I reaching with that pun? A little? Alright. Anyway, the outfit is solid. The weather has been flirting with slightly cooler temps (high teens, low twenties Celsius), which can be tricky – is it spring? Is it summer? – but on the other hand, also an excuse to just throw a sweater over everything. I am all about that, as you know. I am not as fond of bright colour combos as I used to be, which means that black is the default pairing for this mint green; not the most innovative combination, but certainly workable. Sleek (black) loafers complete the “lewk”. Loafers, I’ve come to believe, are the perfect shoe. They look polished but effortless, which is to say – they don’t look like they’re trying too hard. They help your outfit to adjust to any milieu. If your outfit is verging on being underdressed for the occasion, they say “look, I’m not beholden to your dress code, but I tip my hat to it”; if your outfit is fancier than it needs to be, they say “hey, I know the rest is kinda extra, but that’s just my natural flair, I’m actually totally chill”. Did I mention they’re comfortable AF? Loafers for the win.