Another Life

Oh hi. 

It seems I've moved on to another life since moving to NYC. When I was in Alberta I felt starved for a creative outlet. Taking pictures of what I wore that day was a fun distraction from an otherwise boring day. It's been years since I wrote on this blog, but yet I feel like my contribution to fashion, albeit in accessories, has flourished & continued to fill my need to express myself creatively. Having said all that, I am not admitting defeat. I'm not completely throwing in the towel on blogging - but for now here's where I make my daily/weekly posts -- www.mercurialNYC.com in the "blog" section if you're curious about what my days are now filled with. Please go have a gander!

Here's a few favourites from a beautiful photo shoot I contributed jewelry for (you can find most of it on my web shop) this winter.

Hope to see you soon,

M.

Perfume

As said by Mario Testino to Kate Moss;

“You know, in life there’s perfume and there’s cologne. Cologne, you have to spray every fifteen minutes. Perfume, you put a drop and it lasts a week. You’re perfume.”

Love that. 

NYE

Yeah, yeah - it's almost the end of January but I thought I'd share this pic from new years. Personally, I think my vintage silver accordion dress was BANGIN' & that I must share. Here's the most depressing part - it's my mum's & Judith does not like to share. So it was a one night only kinda dress & I think I really made the most of it - but you decide. (also, how amazing is that wall paper? Our friends have the coolest retro house)

Happy January!

P.S - Im really sorry for the last picture to my friend who is in it with me (not the Canadian goose I am riding) & most likely extremely embarrassed. I couldn't resist - it's the best photo EVER.

STREET PHOTOGRAPHY IS MESSING WITH ME

Read this on the STOP IT RIGHT NOW blog. Jayne's funny.... it also doesn't hurt that her style is so unique & her photo shop skills are so impressive.

STREET PHOTOGRAPHY IS MESSING WITH ME

Written by Chelsea Fagan

No, but seriously, though — what the hell are they doing? What are those scraggly little hipsters with the Scott Schuman tattoos on their chests running around my city with the bowling-ball sized cameras and complete disregard for traffic patterns doing? Paris is officially 67 percent fashion photographers at this point, they are relegated to photographing cats and recycling bins for the most part. They must be staying to mess with me specifically. They have to be. Well, if not, then one of them, or perhaps one of you, needs to answer my very valid, reasonable questions:

• Why won’t they admit that they clearly only photograph models? I thought the point of street fashion was to take pictures of people that don’t look exactly like everyone you see in every magazine ever — when did that turn into “Oh, this model’s late for a casting call — better get a few shots of her while she’s on her way?” If I had a dollar for every person on these sites that wasn’t 6’1”, 110 pounds, and fucking beautiful — I would have, like, three dollars max.
• What the hell are these people doing? I’m sorry, but a 50-year-old Asian man wearing a Paul Smith suit, a denim jacket, a mink stole, a Louis Vuitton backpack, Air Force Ones, and shutter shades — WHERE IS HE GOING? Does he work at an accounting firm run by Kanye West and a 10-year-old girl? Is he late for an appointment with Willy Wonka at the World Bank? Seriously, this man had one thing and one thing alone on his agenda that day: Stand awkwardly on the corner of the street, smoke a cigarette, and wait for people to come take his picture.
• Where do people buy these absurd, absurd clothes? I know that a lot of it is more like moving art installations than actual clothes, but you take a picture of a chick wearing a floor-length ball gown made entirely out of Nerds Ropes and you don’t offer any explanation — like, sure, we’re all just supposed to nod along with great dignity and appreciation for art as we ignore the fact that she’s walking around an actual city in modern civilization wearing a bra shaped like a dolphin. Right, okay.
• What do people wear if they don’t have a billion dollars at their disposal? You cannot deny that 70 percent of street fashion photography is now just the most amazing, expensive, creme de la creme stuff available. It’s not like they ever just take a picture of some girl wearing an H&M cardigan in a smart, interesting way — street fashion photography essentially just shows you all the fabulous, absurdist ways you can carry that new Fendi clutch! With that Vera Wang wedding dress and coat made out of an animal only rich people know about — duh!
• Why are there only two options — extremely put together and classy, or crust punk covered with scabs and rubber bands? Apparently the only alternative to being a rich fasionista, if you want to get on style blogs, is to just stop showering for a few months and wear the same plaid shirt every day. You’re “edgy”? And “edgy” is “fashionable”?
• Where do you find these people? I walk around Paris every day — every single day — and have never once seen a woman running to catch a train while wearing an evening gown with a Hefty bag shawl and a pair of cowboy boots. I want to know where you’re finding them — is there just a farm of impeccably dressed, charming, smoking older men in semi-matching suits? Can I go to this farm?
• Why do you insist on taking pictures of size-6 women and referring to them as “curvy?” Come on, bro, that shit is so patronizing. “Look, we’re including you, too, fatties!! <3″
• How do you find sexy, impeccably dressed older people riding scooters? Where is that secret community? The day I see an older woman in five-inch heels and a floor-length skirt strap on a pink helmet and go putting around the Concorde, I will get “FASHION 4 LYFE” tattooed on my forehead. Stop just blatantly paying well-dressed older people to do fun-looking stuff. We know what their actual hobby here is — sitting outside at cafes and looking at passerby with the hatred of Dante’s Inferno.

via Joelle Van Dyne

I dig.

Rolla Rolla Rolla Rolla.

....TIBI Show... continued

So I left you with a rare thing, a verbal diarrhea of my thoughts - more words than I have ever typed on this here blog. Sorry about that. It probably wont happen again... or perhaps it will? I'm trying to find a way to like blogging- I'm playing with the idea of honesty & not being a boring "check out my outfit" kinda blogger. It wasn't really me. If you know me, you'd know taking myself seriously is not something I do very easily. Therefore, standing around looking smug in heels is a hard thing for me. 

Anyway, onward. Right. Fashion Week. Well, I eventually went to 2 shows. The first being TIBI, which was a dream. It was at Lincoln Center (I'm not Americanizing, it's just how they spell it, OK?!) on a runway, a shiny shiny runway. It was legit. It was exciting. It was lucky we are friends with Natalie, the TIBI representative & she likes us enough to get us tickets. Sweet.  

WHAT DID I WEAR, you ask? 

dress:Vintage Altered/ shoes: Steve Madden Cork Platforms

Well, a badass crazy dress of course!  I saw this guy in a great vintage shop in Phoenix last winter. When I found it was the floor length trippy fabric that called to me. It had gold woven through the pattern of turquoise, blue & yellow. It didnt just call to me, it fucking screamed at me.  I tried it on & automatically knew the woman who wore it before me. If you've ever seen the movie "The Party" from the 1960's you know who I am talking about. The rich lady who host's dinner parties and wanders around looking fabulous in floor length jazzy fabric.  I loved the pattern & fabric, but hated the lack of skin showing (full length sleeves & floor length?!) it was like a shroud of psychedelic polyester covering my entire short body. After 2 trips to the tailor & 1 near disastrous altering (way too short, my ass was literally hanging out) it finally went from a cool dress, to a dream dress. Hell, it was so good even a photographer took a picture of me outside of the show.  As seen on Marieclaire  - picture 47

I look really angry, despite how cute my dress is. I told you I have a hard time with these sort of pictures.  In fact, I believe the photographer's caption was "print, with attitude". Christ. Embarrassing. Also, I'd say this is not my most flattering angle, oh well... LOOK MA, IM FAMOUS!

Shall we get to what you really care about, THE TIBI SHOW

It was styled by Kling, one of my fav. bloggers of the moment. Love her paired down style.  Show was perfect - most memorable being the amazing box pleating on the palazzo pants - just wait till next Spring. It was dope. Trust. 

I'll leave you with this little tid bit from "The Party" (it was a little bit racist, as were most things back in the 60's - sorry)

You're Welcome

This song was introduced to me a few weeks ago from my friend Jeremy. I think I have single handedly given it 1000 hits to the view count. The video is so mesmerizing and to top it off the song itself is fantastic with some great lyrics.

 Enjoy!

NYFW, ETC. (part 1)

Thanks, Steve. You're a real pal

The world is now on Paris Fashion Week, so to say I'm a bit delayed on this post is truthful - but could be worse... it could be November? Ahem.

Anyway, despite this being my second Fashion week experience since I moved to New York (it's almost been a year! Gah!) I would say this one was the most LEGIT. It all began with some very grand plans for Fashion's Night Out party jumping. FNO is the kick off to Fashion Week, it's basically how the retailers have involvement; all the shops & flag ship locations host parties (think drinks, DJ's, prizes & discounts) around the city. I was already wandering the streets of SOHO at this point, so I managed to hop into a Steven Madden on my way to the subway. Aside: I have gained this new found respect for Steve Madden. Perhaps it's my poverty speaking, or just the general expense of, frankly, everything in this city, but his shoes are actually pretty fantastic. I spotted these great cork bottom brown leather chunky platform sandals in the back rack. They were cute. They weren't black *gasp*. They were TWENTY DOLLARS!  Fuck yes, thank you very much Steve (we are on first name basis now) and thank you FNO.

Next stop was to be another party at Aritzia (I also consider us really good friends after my photo made it onto their blog & email. Yeah Besties!) and then off to Burberry to see my friend, Marlaice, and then end the eve at the GANT Rugger Nolita store (girlfriend points). Now, dont get too excited - I got a call when leaving "Steve's" that the house guests we had were locked out of the house & I had to head back to Brooklyn to let them in. My bubble was deflated. How depressing. I knew I would never make it back in time.  All I could think of was the disappointment I was betrothing on my gal, Aritzia - she needed me! Western Canadians are few & far here in New York - we gotta stick together! By the time we made it back into the city it was sheer mayhem. I have never seen so many people on the streets. Police yelling, people in huge, uncomfortable shoes pushing each other. 1000's of people slowly shuffling down Broadway, metal gates all down the sidewalks to enforce New Yorkers favourite past time, jay walking. Turns out all these people were just the result of F.N.O ending & releasing a bijillion people onto the streets fired up from discounts & alcohol - a sort of Fashion Fuelled riot.

We slowly floated through the masses to the GANT Rugger store on Prince & Mott - only to find out the party's over. Sorry, folks. A bunch of blogger girls were flaunting their shit all over the street. Flashes going off, smiles being hidden. It was like being an anthropologist in a field study. These were the serious bloggers - I read their blogs like a religion. They are my gods. Surprisingly, they didnt look any different or more stylish than any other girl I saw wandering around New York in high heels & a short dress in the past year. I think the internet does that too people. It's like a magnifying glass. It's like "Hey, I know I look good. Don't I look good?" and I'm all "Yeah. Yeah you do" and then all of a sudden they are the voice of fashion. I'm not complaining, I try to do that, I guess - but I just suck at it. I have a hard time thinking I am awesome enough to deserve anyone taking me as some sort of Fashion expert. Not to mention, I actually hate having my picture taken. I feel fucking awkward. I too don't smile, because I look like a moron when I do. HEY GUYS, IM SO HAPPY THIS PIC. IS BEING TAKEN. It's a giant lie. Im not happy, Im terrified, Im thinking about whether my chin is down & my hair isnt stuck to my lip gloss. Can you see my shoes? How about my jewelry? It's ridiculous. My look for photos is that of terror & anxiety.

Jesus, this post is loooong. I havent even gotten to the Fashion Show Part. Ok.  This post will be in instalments. Sorry folks. This shit is exhausting.

NYC Summers

I'm going home to Canada for a month on Wednesday. I'm super excited to see my family and escape out to the country and quiet for a few weeks. So far, when I look back at my pictures, I'd say I have had a pretty fantastic summer! So many beach days, so many free summer concerts & street festivals - so many visitors & wild nights. I'm excited for my upcoming Canadian summer adventures & insta-shots!