Lowering the Barre But Looking Fine!

Posted on May 20, 2013 by marci | 6 Comments | Style, Uncategorized
Mondor Ballet Class

Getting my twirl on

 I rarely do giveaways, mainly because I’m greedy and want all the stuff for myself. But I’m making an exception for you, dear reader, so please consider sending me things too (I like oreos, milkshakes and lipgloss mainly.)

Last month, I was invited to take a sneak peek of the latest Mondor threads while trying a ballet class at the L’ecole Superieure De Ballet Du Quebec here in Montreal. I have never taken a ballet class before so I was intrigued* and excited.**

*scared shitless

** drunk

Mondor gifted each of the students with a pair of tights and a sweatshirt in advance so we would arrive in costume and ready to get our twirl on. I was a bit disappointed that they didn’t include a tutu in the package because tutus are so pretty and also provide great ass coverage. But then I threw on the tights and hoodie AND WAS MAGICALLY TRANSFORMED INTO A DANCER. No shit.

The tights are designed to move with you and are made to withstand the tireless moves of professional dancers or even if you need to make a mad dash to the bathroom because you ate too many Oreos the night before (WHEEE!!)

And the drawstring hoodie is 98 kinds of awesome! Designed and made right here in Canada, this company knows how to flatter and shape a woman perfectly. If anyone ever asks, just know that side rushing is sexy! There were probably a dozen women in our class and everybody just seemed to instinctively know how much rushing suited them.

As for the class, I adored it! I was promised that I would feel it the next day, and I did but in a way that way that leaves you feeling strong and muscular rather than ambulatory or um, dead. I had never tried most of these moves before and without looking in the mirror (because why mess with reality) I just knew I had somehow mastered them. I liked the Chorus Line vibe of the class so much I plan to go back in the fall and take lessons regularly. And now I want you to this feel fine too.

Which leads to the GIVEAWAY!  Mondor would like to gift one of you with a hoodie too! It comes in heather grey or black so the lucky winner can pick their preference. Open to anyone who wears hoodies or knows someone who wears hoodies.

There are two ways to enter. You can either:

1. Post a picture or a video of you in your favourite ballet pose. Extra ballots for entries with choreography and orchestration.

OR

2. Leave just leave a brief comment below (words, pictures and emoticons all accepted) telling me you’d like to be entered to win. 

I’m Sorry If This Makes Me Sound Like A Feminist But….

Posted on April 25, 2013 by marci | 15 Comments | Rant

In the last few years, I’ve been asked to craft my bio a handful of times for various publications. Depending on the readers, I may identify as a writer, a mom, a blogger, a non-housewife and almost always, an oreo eater.

I’ve never written a feminist.

I’m not sure why I’m not comfortable including it, as being a feminist actually pre-dates all the other identifiers. It is strongly and firmly what shapes my core beliefs. In between reading Sweet Valley High books as a teen, I was sneaking in Andrea Dworkin, Gloria Steinem, Betty Friedan, Camille Paglia (yeah, I know better now) and Naomi Wolf which led to a very eclectic, confused but informed understanding of what feminism meant to me.

And then I kind of shut up about it.  

I felt like I wasn’t feminist enough. Heck, if Tina Fey isn’t feminist enough  I may as well order that really impractical (but totally cute) frilly anthropologie apron and call it a day. Anytime I bought a pretty pink dress or batted my eyelashes or bought my boys the blue shirts (when they had perfectly nice pink ones available too) I felt like I was letting down this weirdly (and wildly incorrect) version of what it meant to be a feminist.

And sometimes I was and sometimes I wasn’t so it just became easier to remove the label but live the life, man.

Which leads to this exchange I had on twitter last week (see the really big pic below)

And I kind of liked the direction the exchange took and the replies I received from it. So I decided to invite a few smart (ass) women to contribute to this thread. I sent them each an email, inviting them to complete the sentence any way they liked. And here are the absolutely fucking brilliant responses I’ve received ( so far!!)

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist, but__________

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist, but for some reason I think that that the people making decisions about a female’s body should actually be have female body parts.
- @WendiAarons Visit her fabulous blog

I’m sorry of this makes me sound like a feminist but I find our culture’s habit of paring down my right to health care, wage parity, sexual freedom, and choice of vocation based on what I am or am not packing in my pants kind of annoying.
- @schmutzie  Visit her site

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist but just because I sat on your face doesn’t mean I’m going to buy you dinner
- @acourtroom

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist but I’m a feminist, and I think it’s weird if someone doesn’t identify as the same.”
- @annetdonahue Visit her awesome blog

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist butI hate having to apologize for having a vagina (among other female accoutrement), and having the knowledge on how it works…and liking how it works…in a world where possessing one sometimes means your are worth less in business and in relationship. I’d say it sucks, but that’s another body part I’m proud of.
-@mojoenvy

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist, but why do the number of holes in my female body arbitrarily designate me to a rank of inferiority in cultural and sociological perspectives?
- @highlyirritable Visit her funny blog

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist but I hate cooking & cleaning
- @daly_beauty Visit her beauty site

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist but I think people should ask men how they’re going to balance their career with fatherhood.
@phdinparenting Visit her site

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist but it is the biggest shame in the history of this planet that we have to teach women how to defend themselves—and then we call them hard or jaded or manly when they actually have to come to their own defence because a man will not.
- @mojoenvy

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist but you really don’t need to put nail polish on your little girl. oh, he’s a boy? that’s okay then.
- @angfromthedock Visit her gorgeous blog

I’m sorry if this makes me sound like a feminist, but…wait, I’m not sorry at all. #womenarehuman #lookintoit
@jennpozner, author of Reality Bites Back

Have a favourite? Want to add your own? Let me know!!

Broken Hearted

Posted on March 23, 2013 by marci | 2 Comments | lifestyle
my unbroken heart

my unbroken heart

My new tattoo.

It is a solid, unbroken and uncluttered heart, not at all wonky like my real one.

My own heart has a *hiccup* that doctors prefer to call Supra Ventricular Tachycardia.

And for years that freaked me out. Freaked me out in ways I am too embarrassed to admit. 

I let myself get distracted when I should have been enjoying instead.

So yesterday, I gave myself this juicy full-bodied perfect heart tattoo and stuck it on my finger to remind myself this is not worth fretting about anymore.

{but of course THIS ONE was a close second choice. of course} 

 

 

Love YourSelfie

Posted on March 10, 2013 by marci | 9 Comments | Mixed Bag, Rant

Love YourSelfie

Usually when I pose for selfies*, I’m going for that “Hey guess what, I love the way this lighting makes me eyes look like the colour of green jello and I don’t have cheeseburger drippings stuck to my chin for a change so we’re going out to celebrate with ice cream” happy vibe as I snap the pic.

I grew up hating having my picture taken. In elementary school, I was the kid who got stuck sitting cross-legged in the front row for class pictures (no matter that I almost always wore dresses that did not quite cover all the things that should be covered.) Things did not improve. For too many (predictable teenagery) reasons, I was never comfortable having my photo taken. Find a shot of me not looking hesitant and forced and I will show you a picture of a gal with heart full of alcohol.

We teach our kids (with special emphasis on our girls, I think) to feel beautiful inside. feel beautiful outside. be yourself. be strong. feel strong. look strong. love yourself. love your body. love its shape form movement. stand tall. stand with pride. stand up for yourself. have fun. be fun. do fun things. look at yourself. don’t shy away from what you see. embrace yourself. take comfort in your eyes your mouth your hair it is special and what makes you special. share. share your kindness. share your beauty -

So they (I!!) pic up that iPhone and casually snap a few fun shots to show ALL THAT – except I feel like we’re not supposed to.

Emily, over at xojane.com recently wrote about selfies, “Women are encouraged to cultivate a pleasing appearance since birth, but never to show satisfaction with their efforts. We’re to be always quietly striving without seeming to be, never feeling like we measure up.”

Here’s the thing. Selfies are whimsical, casual and occasionally flirty. But there is also something very powerful about being both the photographer and the subject. When it comes to poseography, you get total control, which is pretty liberating.

Is it narcissistic and self-involved? You bet your Instagrammed Nashville filtered ass it is. Who cares? I grew up with a gaggle of girls that spent more hours prepping for photos that we would later self-criticize then there were shades of Bonne Bell lipgloss. Selfies, on the other hand, are (for me) a victorious win over my own insecurities. It’s like giving my too-small boobs and too-big ass and too-freckled face the finger (albeit online.)

Will we regret them? Sure. The same way we regret lusting after men with oddly shaped facial hair and eating Spaghettios at 4AM. That is to say, life is rife with harmless regrets. These…these are the innocent ones that’ll  get reinvented as tearful laughter-filled anecdotes in a few years from now.

 Anna Maria Tremonti from The Current (CBC) recently hosted a lively debate on Selfies (Are they narcissistic  Empowering Or Just Fun?) and this was an exchange between two guests:

Sarah Nicole Prickett: ”Best analogy…The selfie is a lot like Masturbation. And the hysteria right now about girls taking photos of themselves reminds me of some kind of Victorian bullshit where we don’t want girls to get pleasure from themselves, alone because it upsets the whole order..”

Hal Niedzviedcki reply: “…you aren’t getting pleasure from yourself alone, the pleasure only comes from knowing that other people are going to see these images and respond to them and that’s where we get into the practice of turning your private life into a commodity, so you didn’t really respond to the question.”

So yeah, Sarah got taken down (she later offered another comparison) but I happen to agree with her, in a way. Being able to take pleasure from yourself (and here I am talking about the one-handed type needed to snap pics) is the most delicious thing. It is liberating and powerful and mind-blowing. So maybe that makes people uncomfortable.. As for Hal’s point, he’s right. And again, so what? People find pleasure in the most peculiar ways but ultimately pleasure begets pleasure, so where is the harm?

{Insert question to generate comments here}  Selfies: Do you love them or hate them?

{ * A selfie is a picture you take of yourself, typically while not looking into the camera and often while making a duck face. Your right arm normally appears in the shot. Then you share it with as many people as you can and hope a few people “like” it. Buzzfeed recently published the 32 Absolute Best Selfies Of All Time}

I selfie regularly on instagram at http://instagram.com/beingmarci If you Selfie too, be sure to send me the link.

The Most Distasteful Food Article I’ve Ever Read!

Posted on March 3, 2013 by marci | 3 Comments | Mixed Bag, Rant

 I like gratuitous smut as much as the next 40-something suburban non-housewife. I’m just not appreciative of having it served up to me by a Toronto Star “Food Reporter” in the form of a news article.

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Nigella Lawson at Chatelaine Magazine’s new test kitchen. The first thing I noticed was her incredible presence (ok fine, and stunning complexion.) She chatted about her work, family and new cookbook for while. She was friendly, smart and incredibly talented. The fact that she can do all that while wearing calf-clenching Louboutins was most certainly secondary.

So I was taken aback reading Toronto Star’s food reporter Michele Henry article on Ms.Lawson this weekend. The entire article was crafted in this backhanded,  completely unnecessary physical description of Ms.Lawson. The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. Here are some excerpts:

“Food Babe” ….”a hurricane of hips, boobs and hair, whips up a sexy pasta dish in the Star’s test kitchen on her whirlwind book tour” …. “bites her bottom lip” …. “with the stealth of a schoolgirl up to no good”….”lops a loop of fabric off her curve-hugging purple dress.”….“The microphone got caught in my dress,” she explains, batting her eyelashes coquettishly as if to make amends for doing something naughty.”…..”A hurricane of hips, boobs and hair, the British food babe tosses her head and unwraps her black wool coat. It slinks off her shoulders like a dressing gown, instantly transforming the culinary space into a boudoir and underscoring why she’s famous for making food sexy.”….. “Lawson sets her famously ample bottom into a chair so a makeup artist can smooth the winter’s kink from her appearance.”

Nigella Lawson is stunning. She is also wildly talented in the kitchen, a point which is completely absent in this article. I was curious if Ms.Henry made a habit of irrelevant reporting so I took a peak at a few other articles. A few months earlier, she had the pleasure of interviewing Matt Dean Pettit, owner of Rock Lobster Food Co. And this guy has a beard, which automatically qualifies him as ruggedly handsome, no? Um, but no. Just this: 

“He places it down on the cooking island and bravely scoops up a flailing crustacean”….”He’s well-versed in what it takes to market a successful brand”….”Pettit has more energy and enthusiasm than the throngs who crowd his stands demanding lobster rolls”….”the 33-year-old former rugby player”….”Pettit looks the part of chef-in-charge when he strides into the Star’s test kitchen this week carrying a cardboard box bearing lobsters”

Spot the differences? I am generally all in favour of lascivious conversation (Ask my husband. And my boyfriend.) but it just seems really cheap to thrust this onto a food article and call it reporting.

Luckily for me, I cook so infrequently, my kids are grateful just to get food, so it’s highly unlikely I’ll ever have the pleasure of being interviewed by Ms.Henry but good lord, if I do, someone please remind me to grow out my ample chin hairs in advance. 

Seriously, am I bonkers or is this article irrelevant and unnecessary?

 

Here is the most important thing I know today…

Posted on January 30, 2013 by marci | Leave a comment | lifestyle, Rant, Spaghetti & Spanx

I think in order to have my brain ache less, I need to make my body ache more.

image courtesy skinnyms.com

Simple Sundays

Posted on January 27, 2013 by marci | Leave a comment | Décor, Mixed Bag, Uncategorized

I love fresh weeks almost as much as I like fresh sheets. 

But Sundays…..Sleep late, have coffee, eat leftovers, don’t wash, don’t dress,  linger, catch up, read the paper, have another coffee, daydream, un-apologetically listen to Jason Mraz,  indulge, eat dark chocolate and firm sour blueberries, buy flowers , listen to guilty pleasures on 8tracks.com, flip through magazines, watch netflix, nosh, exfoliate and  moisturize.

And of course, put fresh sheets on the bed.

I bought fresh cut flowers and a plant today. This will be my first plant. Like ever. 

The girl at the store told me to add a splash of bleach and a pinch of sugar to the fresh flowers.  

I don’t have bleach in the house (because then I’d have to clean). Any suggestions on a reliable beach alternative?

She also told me that I could not kill this plant if I tried. We shall see about that.

Also? I notice I call females younger than me girls and those older than me women. I’m not sure if that makes me sexist, agist or just old?

Everything is coming up roses

Posted on January 26, 2013 by marci | 6 Comments | Décor, Style

photo courtesy of eatdrinkchic

If ever there was ever a time to visit New York…..

According to The New York Post it has been nine days since anyone has been murdered in nyc.  I’m not sure the New York Tourism board is ready to change their tagline to “the city that never murders when the windchill dips below 40″ but still, this is welcome news and I am cheered by how enthusiastically the New York post has embraced the whole ‘lemons into lemonades’  idiom.

Police are speculating that the frigid weather is a nifty deterrent and at least one police insider has said, “It’ll pick up again in the spring and summer. Always does.” Let’s assume this was not said in a hopeful tone.

Not that there is anything wrong with hopeful. I live in the marrow of hopeful.

  • I am hopeful that the editor from _____ magazine will finally reply to my  email.
  • I am hopeful that people will find new ways of disagreeing. Ways that don’t end in violence, pain or passive-agressive Facebook status updates. 
  • I am hopeful that ‘nifty’ ‘swell’ and ‘golly’ will make a comeback.
  • I am hopeful that Cheryl Strayed and I will get together for unhurried  drinks and giggles one day.
  • I am hopeful that someone will discover a cure for cancer that involves sucking it out of the good people and adding it into the bad people. You know who you are.
  • I am hopeful that my mom will get to continue travelling way into her nineties. She deserves it.
  • I am hopeful that there will be another season of  The Hour.
  • I am hopeful that my kids will always think I’m the bees knees and my husband always thinks I’m the cats meow.

But mainly, I am hopeful that everything will come up roses (and peonies, tulips and daisies) in the end.

What are you hopeful for? 

photo courtesy of meggielynne.tumblr.com/

photo courtesy of stylemepretty.com

photo courtesy of http://weddingsiniowa.blogspot.ca/

photo courtesy of stylemepretty.com

You Make Me Want To Be A Better Blog.

Posted on December 30, 2012 by marci | 40 Comments | Mixed Bag, Rant

sugar and spice where I'm not nice.

I don’t write regularly, but when I do I want to write about all things interesting, pretty, weird, confusing, entertaining, complicated, appealing, inspiring, motivating and real.

This last year, I have been busy  writing for print and digital publications {humble brag complete} while my own blog has been gathering dust.  Even worse, I haven’t had the time to keep up with other folks blogs.

And now that I’m back and have the time, I’m blocked. I can’t seem to gather the words to form a thought to write a sentence to complete a post that will be all things interesting, pretty, weird, confusing, entertaining, complicated, appealing, inspiring, motivating and real.

So I spent a few hours trolling through blogs randomly just clicking on links to blogs I spotted on Facebook or twitter.

And Blogs, They Are A Changin

I know and admire so many bloggers. The ones who offer giveaways and the ones who offer up their soul. I enjoy the humour some bloggers sprinkle on as they chronicle their illnesses, anxieties and misgivings. I equally enjoy the blogger who will source the whole wide world and let me in on the most hydrating skincare cream. And heck – those blogers who offer giveaways? Cool, I love free stuff! I may not visit your site often but I’ll pop in occasionally to sneak a peek at the latest contest or giveaway [I ADORE free!}

But I’m sorry – a few of you have jumped the shark. You are doing yourself a disservice when you post about your obsession with Coke one day and then Pepsi the next. If you jump into bed with every brand, you will catch a disease. And your friends will be scared to drink from the same pop can as you.

But maybe these could be called review sites instead of blogs? It would easily direct the traffic appropriately and brands that are looking for you can easily find you.  I’m not sure that’s the answer but if your focus is focused exclusively on product reviews and giveaways maybe it’s not a blog anymore?

Don’t Filter Yourself

Enough with instagram filters – I miss you!! You don’t really look like that and  cookies don’t come of the oven looking like that. So stop with the filters. They are impossible to live up to. And the more we use them the more we accept them and then the more we expect the real world to look like them. Your tofu burger does not need to be photoshopped. Nor do your lopsided Christmas trees or your mismatched socks.

It’s exhausting to wring every aspect of your self, your thoughts, and your images through a filter. And it shows. There is slickness to these images that takes away from the natural beauty of  our lives. Use the filters to be creative and imaginative – not to gloss over the real.

There was an interesting article in new york times   about “success theatre.” In it, writer Jenna Wortham puts it this way,

“I’m growing tired of seeing everyone’s perfectly framed, glittering nightscapes of the Manhattan skyline, their impeccably prepared meals, those beautifully blurred views of the world from an airplane window seat. I’m getting tired of carefully crafting and sharing them myself.

As these media have matured and more of our colleagues, former flings, in-laws and friends have migrated to them, our use of them has changed. We’ve become better at choreographing ourselves and showing our best sides to the screen, capturing the most flattering angle of our faces, our homes, our evenings out, our loved ones and our trips.

It’s success theater, and we’ve mastered it.”

In the next year, I plan to take back my blog, or at the very least, watch it explode into a enormous ball of “I tried but failed-ness.”

I will try my hardest to write about all things interesting, pretty, weird, confusing, entertaining, complicated, appealing, inspiring, motivating and real. But when I ask myself why i do this, it really does come down to you, the reader. I share my jiggly bits with you in the hopes that you will speak out when I’m wrong, or (less often) congratulate me on being right. I literally blossom from these connections. I want to know I’m not alone out here.  This is my new blog disclaimer:

  • I will post regularly, but it may not always make sense or appeal to you.
  • I want a bigger audience. So sue me.
  • I want to work with brands that I adore. I ‘ll do it honestly and with wild enthusiasm on my part. If it makes sense to offer a contest I will. I really think it’s a nice way to show appreciation to readers.  It will always and only be honest. I pinky swear.
  • My choice of posts will be as scattered as my laundry room. I cannot be trusted to stay on topic or on task. But I really hope that you’ll follow along anyway.
  • I’ll be relying on you to keep me on task. I live in a house of boys who enjoy different things than me. I live in a remote community where I don’t speak the language of 90% of the residents. I need y’all to tell me I’m wrong once in awhile!

Why do read blogs? To be  entertained? To be informed or educated? For the giveaways/contests?

The Pair That Got Away

Posted on December 26, 2012 by marci | 2 Comments | Mixed Bag, Style

city gloves (can also be used in small towns)

I am having a blogging crisis over a pair of cashmere/lambswool blend gloves.

The problem is not even that I say things like,  ”Oh I like those touch-screen enabled gloves, do they come in green?”  though maybe it should be.

No the trigger is in the timing.

If I write about items I covet the day after Christmas, I risk sounding greedy and shallow.

But I’m not.

{insert long pause}

OK, I am.

But this year I  wasn’t.

This year, I watched with parental pride and happiness as my boys generously used their own cash to buy aunts, cousins and grandparents gifts.

And I watched, with thick wet sloppy tears, as friends, but mainly acquaintances and strangers, donated money and giftcards to the Batshaw Family Services after I put out the call to help get the older teens gifts of their own this year {Typically, this organization does receive corporate donations but only for younger kids, so the teens winds up with presents geared towards much younger kids}.

But I didn’t want to risk sounding like a Braggy McBrag {My friend Alex coined that phrase and wrote a thoughtful post on it here}

But when you don’t blog in awhile, coming back to it can get tricky. Especially when you are asking people to read things that barely make sense even to the one who writes them.

I am not “owning my words” these days.

I’m forcing words down in the hopes that they magically arrange themselves into meaningful, yet witty, thoughts that make you “like” “share” “tweet” and “stumble”

“PLEASEREADMEANDLOVEMEEVENTHOUGHMYWRITINGISUGLEANDWILLHURTYOUREYES”

“LOOKATMEWRITE……AAAHHHHWHYAREPEOPLEREADINGTHISDRIVEL?”

I read more than I write these days and that makes me self-conscious. But hopeful. I have a few ideas jostling around that i am patiently waiting to finish brewing.

I may have lost my blogging compass but I have found a lovely pair of touch screen-enabled cashmere blend city gloves.

From Quill & Tine. In case you’re wondering….

 

Switch to our mobile site