this is a dialogue, not a diary

Soul mates, Pt. I || , , 11.08.10

“Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it.”

- Richard from Texas

Then, at that exact moment, while reading that exact line, I looked up and saw this exact “mural” plastered (painted, really) on the subway walls. It looked into me, spoke directly to me, really – with its twice-underlined YOU.

If soul mates are designed by the universe for this very purpose (to help us understand ourselves [better], reveal that other layer), then isn’t this whole concept (the concept of love and human relation, outside of sex) just a poor veil of selfishness, revealing our inherent nature: that it’s all about me, in the end?  Not sure I believe in either concept. Soul mates are strangers, strangers say, “I Love You.” Not sure I’ve experienced either.

Or maybe it was coincidence. Maybe.



Why Showgirls Is Back in Style: in 11 Looks || , , 30.07.10

 Sure, Showgirls (starring then-tween queen Elizabeth Berkley) bombed in 1995. But 15 years later, its cult status is painfully undeniable. A little research shows that it’s one of MGM’s Top 20 grossing movies of all time, in fact. It still “looks better than a 10-inch dick” to me. But everyone watched it for the dancing back in the day, right? I miss old exploitation films like this. Can we have a renaissance, pretty please? Berkley has gotten much better, I hear.

1. Leather fringe. Enough said.

2. (Acrylic) nail art.

3. American Apparel gold lamé.

4. (Floral-print) overalls with black crop top and Doc Martens (who just started shipping to Canada, again) that you can’t see in the frame, sadly.

5. The “Ver-sase” dress. At the height of his empire in the mid-90s Versace was the “it.” Now, this vintage frock would fetch a pretty penny I’m sure, but as Molly said: “I could make you that.”

6. Lace, tights, more American Apparel — mainstay ’80s aftertaste and current dance movie staples (See: Step Up, etc. etc.).

7. Lip liner will never die in my mind. Exhibit A: Cristal fucking Connors.

8. Female-on-female eroticism. Sex sells. In 1995, in Britney and Madonna and Christina’s case, and in 2010.

9. Lady Gaga theatrics. See MTV VMA 2009 Paparazzi Performance. Also, leather, studs, tits.

10.  More nail art. Revenge nails.

11. Cowboy hats, animal-print metallic tops. Cleavage.



Adventures in GChat Pt. 1: Painful Planning || , 29.07.10

Scott: Inception is playing tomorrow at the Scotiabank Theatre at 7:30 and 8:10, and Salt is playing at 8pm, 7:10 and 9:20.
me: hey you
i’ve seen inception actually (did i tell you that?)
Scott: Howdy.
You did not, but okie dokie.
Life goes on. :)
me: it does indeed
ok, if we go to something under the cineplex umbrella, i have a 2-for-1 coupon
Scott: Ooooh, be still my heart! Cool.
me: is scotia a cineplex theatre (i don’t know)
Scott: Yessir.
me: salt at 9.20?
Scott: Sure.
me: i’m not used to proper punctuation on gchat
Scott: I can’t not use it. It’s hardwired.
me: are you indifferent or just being a good boy
Scott: I actively have to think when I’m trying to not properly punctuate, so it’s just easier to do things right.
9 minutes
Scott: The Salt screenings specify “no passes” so I’m not sure your coupon will be permitted.
Nevermind — coupons are omitted from that.
10 minutes
me: ya coupons are ok
no passes means like free passes
Scott: That is my learning for today. Nothing else will sink in.
me: you are precious



Amanda Lew Cool || 29.07.10

Amanda Lew Kee talks to me for The Style Notebook. Parts 1 and 2. Below is my original intro, which sheds a little more light into why I really like her. Enough said. And when she leaves us for London or New York (but not Pairs; I doubt her style and aesthetic would translate properly — initially, at least), I can say “Paul was there.” Read. Enjoy?

—

The first time I heard about Amanda Lew Kee was from a friend raving about her Mass Exodus showing as part of the Ryerson University student collections. Since I’m not exactly partial to anything student, I was hesitant to believe the hype. It wasn’t until I met Amanda a few weeks later, when she rolled up to The Room at the Bay, leather-clad and with supermodel-in-the-making (and good friend) Nadine McAdam in tow, that I noticed she was already ahead of her pack. “I was always creative as a young child,” she tells me. “I experimented with different artistic fields and was interested by various objects and how they were assembled. I guess these fundamental characteristics helped develop a general sense of construction and design.”
And construction and design is exactly what set her apart from other young designers at Mass Exodus and what’s propelled her into near-cult status in such a short time. When she showed her capsule-esque collection at the Great Hall in Queen West last month, the short film/model mash-up preview set a mood so perfect it left you in a haze (think memoirs of a gothic geisha) – all black, mostly leather, all layered, all textured, so Dracula’s lovechild running around in Berlin. Reserved and sweet, yet undeniably adored and educated (yup, she’s actually got that Ryerson degree), people are taking notice. So when I sat in on fitting she did for Canadian starlet Shenae Grimes’ MMVA frock, I put my theories to the test and saw substance behind style; Amanda is very candid about what she wants out of the industry and what her designs are meant to reflect. It should come as no surprise then that her critical acclaim is really only beginning, from being chosen as one of the Toronto Star’s Best Dressed 2010 to a collection display at Holt Renfrew this month to a two-page spread in Flare’s upcoming September August issue. Just don’t expect to see her designs on Miley Cyrus.



My Mother Always Warned Me || , 26.07.10

Of a love like this.

The kind that consumes and envelopes, and refuses to release until you’ve surrendered every last thought to the idea of he & you.

The kind that traps, inflicting its torture no matter where you go, what you do.

The kind that allows for the moments when you’re in bed smoking a joint and recounting the days to be so perfect.

The kind that knows it might never love you the way you love it.

The kind that may never take an interest in you beyond its physical reach, nor you in it.

“Night came on, and a full moon rose high over the trees lighting the land till it lay bathed in ghostly day. And the strain of the primitive remained alive and active. Faithfulness and devotion, things born of fire and roof were his yet he retained his wildness and wiliness. And from the depths of the forest, a call still sounded.”

- Jack London, The Call of the Wild, 1903

No more dreaming like a boy so in love with the wrong world.
No more dreaming of a day when a death like this could be undone.



Live from Paris: Calla Haynes || 25.07.10

At one point, I swore this was never going to happen. Luckily, the stars aligned and I chatted with the lovely Calla Haynes for the Style Notebook. She’s living in Paris, being fabulously low-key and says on Lady Gaga: “I like her.” (That last part was cut).



Critical Conversations: Robin Givhan || 25.07.10

In addition to being flooded with rain on this June night, I was flooded with fashion fanfare in the form of two journo saints. And even though they talked shop, and film, and bloggers, and the future, I couldn’t help but wonder: Who’s Batman and who’s Robin?
Read my three-part (!!) on Pulitzer-prize winning fashion writer Robin Givhan on The Style Notebook.



well i… || 24.07.10

…won’t tell anyone that I stole your gold chain headband and wore it around town.

Me, as Twitpic’d by Juan Carlos at the Kelis CD Release party (at, the, um, Barn), which was, by the way, disappointingly empty.

And then he snapped this, a few hours later, when I was caught at Cocksucker Blues at Parts & Labour. They should really be reversed in time & space. Somehow I don’t feel like we’re personifying the night’s theme. Cocksuckers, yes. Blues, no.



introducing || 23.07.10

The new (and barely finished construction) pliving.me. And like any new development, there are obviously kinks to work out, so hang tight (or rather, bear with me).

If you’re so inclined, follow me. Both here and through your reader (or whatever the cool kids are using these days), won’t you?

Swear I’m SFW, except when I’m not.