My New Title

This young aspiring journalist interviewed me (ok, so what if she's only 14) as her chosen subject for a project about immigrants. She later said I am the most interesting woman in Toronto. How can one refuse to be that? I just wish I knew what it was that I said that made her think that. I would use it to impress more people.
Here's a photo she took of me after the interview:
I guess I should have made an attempt at clearing my desk...

Merry Christmas

Happy holidays everyone.
I've had busy couple of days, which I love, and I'm very happy to have such a devoted group of customers who make a point of thinking about me at this busy time of year, coming to see me and spend some quality time and hard-earned money. Thank you.
This year has been challenging so perhaps it was a blessing that it passed so quickly. A new era is beginning next week. The future has arrived. Lets hope it's not as dismal as si-fi movies have been predicting for decades, that in fact we would be able to find the quiet simplicity which can make life more enjoyable. Here's something worth a toast. Lechayim!

Simply Fabulous

Joseph Aboud Jacket, hand knitted green sweater, white shirt to die for (details you wouldn't believe), silk bow tie, Ecco shoes, cuffed tailored wool gray pants, Fornazzetti pocket square, and that hat to finish it off. Wear this combination and you're worth being featured in the Sartorialist blog...

Motorcycle jacket with unique beaded details and very special buttons, J. Lindberg black skinny jeans, wool sweater crazy Argyle-like in pink and gray.
Embroidered white shirt, funky cotton jacket with a fun lining, classy and timeless wool scarf, belt buckle for the holidays.

Things You May Want To Buy

The shop is loaded with such great things. Yesterday a lovely woman came to do her xmas shopping for her son, and bought a beautiful Yamamoto shirt, a couple of Lacost shirts, and some other items. I love when that happens. It reaffirms my belief in what I do.
Here are some examples of what I have in stock - whoever gets these would be making a wise purchase:
Fabulous Gocci black formal suit (size 42 tall)
Harley Davidson black leather authentic jacket (XXL)
Green suade (Robin Hood green) Valentino shoes - fun and whimsical.
Oakley briefcase, olive green heavy duty nylon, with a removable shoulder strap and pouches.
Burberry trench coat
Etro raincoat
The North Face winter jacket
Classic silk house robe
Silk men's kimono
Etro ties

Ryan Larkin - Walking

Things you can stumble upon when idly surfing the net, such as this beauty - observation, exploration and admiration of the human walk, by Ryan Larkin (yes, the subject of the Oscar winning film 'Ryan').

Click on the post title to go to the NFB site.

Literary Cats

They are so smart they read the news with their eyes closed. They love the Globe and Mail.

Serge Gainsbourg

I forgot about him completely. His songs were quite popular back home in the old days. I like him better as a jazz pianist and a poet, in fact, than as a singer.
This one is quite lovely and light:



Here's another fun song of his (originally sung quite badly as a duet with Catherine Deneuve) done to perfection by Stacy Kent (a new one for me):

Lhasa de Sella, again

Warm music for a cold rainy day:

Meaghan Smith - Local and Lovely

This young woman is a great singer. She's going places, I'm sure. Last week she opened for Sophie Milman at Massey Hall. She was great, and her guitarist/husband really good. It was such a pleasant surprise. Click on the post title to go to her site.

I'm Old Fashioned

But I don't mind it. These old songs, old B&W films, bigger than life melodramas, big bands playing swing music - they do it for me in a way I can't explain. They make me swing.

New Qoute

Most of our faults are more pardonable than the means we use to conceal them.
Francois de La Rochefoucauld

French classical author who is best known for his maximes, epigrams expressing a harsh or paradoxical truth in the briefest manner possible. A cynical observer of Louis XIV's court, La Rochefoucauld mostly saw selfishness, hypocrisy, and weakness in general in human behavior.

Would he have a different view on humanity these days? have we changes much in the last 500 years? I think not. Just like our predecessors, we mostly know what's right, yet choose wrong.

Social Graces

I have come to realize there is a direct connection between the reduction in the numbers of smokers and the rise in those of cell phone users. One bad habit is replacing the other.
Just think about it - both have the same effects on a social and personal level:
Where once it was cool to smoke, now it's cool to be occupied with a cell phone.
Both are equally annoying to the observers/listeners/second hand inhalers.
Both have an effect of taking a break from life, into the other side of the phone, or into the pleasure of finishing a cigarette.
Both are incredibly addictive.

I'm abstaining.

Murdered Innocence

Two acquaintances meet in the shop, a writer and an opera singer. After the initial surprise of all of us, I talked about the break in. One asked if much was taken. I said that the thing which matters most is my lost innocence. "I knew her before she was innocent" laughed the writer. I'm still trying to understand such a concept.

Confessions

I must admit that one of my favourite things to do in the shop is listen to people talk about their love life. It makes me think about all that's good in life.
One of my lovelier customers told me he's in love with a beautiful girl, and the way he described her confirmed that: he talked about her skin, small imperfections, her gait, her art. They are very young, it's wonderful. He asked for some advice. I told him to be always kind, most of all when things start getting complicated and shadows we all carry inside are revealed.
He bought 2 items that are normally not something he would wear. Thank you, lovely girl. He looked very good wearing them.
Change is good, isn't it?

Moving On, New Quote

It takes time to recover after being violated. I'm not quite over it yet.
I think the biggest damage was done to my soul. When i started this project, I was optimistic, full of positivity and love to everyone who came into my shop. These days I feel different.
The door is now barred. The window is still in progress.
I'm made to think about security, when I don't want to. I keep thinking - what's to protect here that's so important? a few used clothes, what's the big deal. Still, keeping thieves out seems essential somehow.
This is the pipe they used to break the door. I think it's quite beautiful.

It's time for a new quote: this one is for Remembrance Day, and for violent people everywhere:

Violence, even well intentioned, always rebounds upon oneself.
Lao Tzu

Aftermath

The shop was broken into last night, around 2 am. A heavy iron pipe to the door window. Neighbours heard it, thought a car had crashed.
They got in, took almost everything from the glass cabinet, tried on some leather coats and shoes and left with what they wanted.
This damage breaks not only my finances, but my spirit as well.

I Walk a Little Faster - Fiona Apple

A Fabulous Find - Helmut Newton Portraits

I found a book of Helmut Newton portrait photography at the St. Lawrence Antique Market this afternoon. I had a poster of his when I was a young woman, the first picture I ever framed for my own walls. I look at his images with different eyes now that I'm (just a little) older, I love their direct sexiness. I don't care that he objectified the women in the photographs, and I don't think they cared either.

Introducing - Ginger and Fred

Our new members of the family, cute as buttons, 2 months old. The excitement in the house is palpable. Our younger son is enthralled by them. The older one isist on the names: Mustafa and Jacuzi. Whatever works, I guess.

I Want A Year Of Beauty

Such as this:

Jiri Kylian - Petite Mort (1st. part)

Blessings For a New Year

I read this somewhere this morning. Perhaps we'll be able to embrace these notions, globally as well as personally:

Evil is boring. Cynicism is idiotic. Fear is a bad habit. Despair is lazy. Joy is fascinating. Love is an act of heroic genius. Pleasure is our birthright.

Oh, to live for a good book (about death...)

Paul Auster :: The Invention of Solitude
(click on the post title to reach a thoughtful review of it).

My mother sent me this book, translated quite well, and as I started reading it I was distracted by thoughts of her, how she read it, in her precarious state of health these last few years, and what went through her mind as the words dissecting a parent's death coincide with her own thoughts about what remains of her life.

Here is a short quote:
Most lives vanish. A person dies, and little by little all traces of that life disappear. An inventor survives in his inventions, an architect survives in his buildings, but most people leave behind no monuments or lasting achievements: a shelf of photograph albums, a fifth-grade report card, a bowling trophy, an ashtray filched from a Florida hotel room on the final morning of some dimly remembered vacation. A few objects, a few documents, and a smattering of impressions made on other people. Those people invariably tell stories about the dead person, but more often than not dates are scrambled, facts are left out, and the truth becomes increasingly distorted, and when those people die in their turn, most of the stories vanish with them.

A disappointment

A few days ago I left someone (a very reliable and nice person) to tend to the shop while I went with my son to shop for school supplies.
While I was away someone switched the price tags of an expensive item and bought it for 1/4 of the price.
It pains me to think how careless someone could be to do that in such a small shop. Does he not understand that this is coming out of my own, very shallow pocket? I'm not part of some big corporation that would not miss it. Does he not understand that small businesses like mine can't survive such practices?
I just don't get it.

For all the coffee drinkers in the world - enjoy!

This has nothing to do with anything at all. But it made us all laugh so hard, I thought it is the right thing to share with fellow coffee drinkers, where ever they are.



It's a song of the French band Oldelaf and Mr D. from their LP L'album de la maturité. The movie clip has been directed by Stephanie Marguerite and Emilie Tarascou.

Lyrics translated in English for the blog http://french-kisses.blogspot.com/

My New Assistants, and the old one

Summer in the city

The first one is the view of the sky from the shop right after the storm passed. Furious nature showing it's colours.

Life and Death Cycles

Schunzel
1991-Aug 18,2009

Beautiful, feisty, smart
Loving, ferocious, curious

Wake us in the night
For love, or for attention

Come to us
Look into our eyes,

Talk with purr so loud
Remind us of our duties

Lie beside the kids when sick
Scratch them when they pass you by

Mark us with your smell and hair
Then move away to rest a while

We sit, you sit
We rest you rest
We eat you want to share

We live you live
And then you die
We live on to miss your essence
Your bushy proud tail
Those huge green clever eyes that see us as we are
The whiskers, the hair inside your dainty ears
The fine arrangement of your fur
The whole of you, and now the hole of you.

What Remains

I've just watched the film Sylvia, a touching rendition of her life and love with Ted Hughes. Made me want to read her writing again, after many years.



Poppies in July

Little poppies, little hell flames,
Do you do no harm?

You flicker. I cannot touch you.
I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns.

And it exhausts me to watch you
Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.

A mouth just bloodied.
Little bloody skirts!
There are fumes that I cannot touch.
Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?

If I could bleed, or sleep! -------------
If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,
Dulling and stilling.

But colorless. Colorless.

Poetry on Lake Simcoe

I was referred to this poem by a kind customer who heard I was on lake Simcoe recently:

Poetry on Lake Simcoe
By Desi Di Nardo

We were oceans apart when I met you
On my way to a blackened hell
You swept by me
A wingless angel
And pulled me up
To keep me from sinking
I sat on an invisible alae
Stunned by your strength
You carried me to loftier dreams
While I scattered old dead skin
Like fragile snowflakes
Pale white shells
Floated down
Lighting up the sky
And drifted from memory
Like a cold winter song
Skimming dancing flitting
As broken pebbles do
We smiled and wondered
On whose toungue they would fall

Water Power

I take the phrase 'put your feet up' literally.


There's nothing like being by the water, on the water, in the water, to calm and repair what needs to be repaired inside.

Alive and Kicking

I had some interesting conversations today.
One with Allen, a lovely man who used to come to the shop before changing workplace sometime last year. I have not seen him around for a long time, and today he stood by the shop window looking in as I came to open. It was a nice surprise. He browsed and found a shirt I would have never thought he'd buy, it was very colourful. In the past he used to shop for dark colours only. Then we talked for a while and I understood why.
Allen told me he died last year when he was in the hospital, and was revived with a defibrillator. He's healthy now, and only faint marks of the defibrillator are there as a reminder. It changed the way he looks at life. I can see how death would do that to people...

Later in the day a lovely young man came by, sent to me by another favourite customer. While he tried on many items with relish, we talked about our lives. He is one of those rare youngsters who escaped (that's how I see it) the oppression of a religious orthodox Jewish upbringing. Our conversation drifted from that, to what life in a kibbutz is like, to ways to be successful with women, and lamenting the rarity of men like Don Draper (Mad Men main character). It was a lively discussion.

I was introduced to this TV series by David: Saving Grace is about an Oklahoma policewoman, a fantastically wild one, who's angel is trying to save her against her wishes. It's well written and acted, it's explicit and controversial, and I love it, despite the religious overtones. I particularly like it when Earl, the angel, effectively spreads his wild wings at the most opportune moments, to scare or to caress. Those wings are magnificent.

My Esteemed Curator

He's not really mine, but I like to call him that.
This is my dear friend David, who's been keeping me company and helping in the shop since the winter. His help is invaluable, I can't begin to tell you how much. His experience in the retail and fashion industry, his cheerful disposition, his brave attitude in the face of adversity is just amazing to me.
David is moving back to the U.S. in a few weeks and I will miss him very much. Who will bring me dvd's to watch, music to listen to? Who will curate the shop (rearrange the racks every few days) and refresh the look of the shop when I'm too laid back to do it myself? Who will keep me abreast with everything one needs to know about gay culture, fashion icons, great TV series, designers? Who will challenge my dear husband in ways to treat me better?
David, I hope we'll keep in touch, wherever you go, whatever you do.

New qoute and a song

Last night at my dear friend Linda's birthday party, this song was played and sung beautifully by Janice, Lucas and John. There is no recording of it, alas, so here's another version, by Chet Baker. It's heart breaking.



And a new quote, finally. I left the last one in the shop's window for many months, because I like it so much and wanted to be reminded of it's truth every day. (It was this: There's more to life than increasing its speed - by the eloquent Mahatma Ghandi).

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
Aldous Huxley

Melody Gardot

This is a new discovery for me. This one's called - 'Our Love is Easy'. Many of her songs are just as great. Enjoy.

She is gone

I just heard the sad news of Pina Bausch's death yesterday, June 30, of cancer. I had no idea she was ill when I posted the previous entry. Apparently, neither did she - she died 5 days after being diagnosed.
As the music in Cafe Muller begs: "Remember me", I will remember her as one of the greatest artists of our time.

To view some pictures and information about her click on the post title.


Here is a piece I saw on stage many many years ago, which moved me to tears. Pina Bausch used to say she's more interested in what moves people than in how they move. I somehow doubt that though, when I see the dancers she chose to work with, all marvelous movers, young and old alike. She found the perfect balance combining both physical and emotional movement.

And in Toronto

I got lucky last Friday. Not what you think. Keep your mind clean.
I got a ticket to see a beautiful dance show, part of the Luminato festival. It was The Netherlands Dance Theater, in a 3 piece show that took my breath away.
Here is an excerpt of one, made by a duo of choreographers - lightfoot/Leon, and danced impeccably (the first piece):



Those who know my historical love affair with dance might understand what seeing a good dance performance does to me. It is inspiring and uplifting, but at the same time I'm infuriated for not being serious enough about my own aspiration in the field.

Speaking of historical love affairs, while searching youtube for the previous video, I stumbled upon this one, probably one of the very best dance theater pieces ever made, and a particular favourite of mine, which I haven't seen in so long I don't even want to remember. It was a nostalgic moment.
Here is a short but effective piece from "Cafe Muller" by the legendary Pina Bausch:

Living it up (briefly) in NYC

Big city, bright lights and all that. It's all that it's cracked up to be. So goood to be away for just a little bit, not too much at a time, this city is just too full of excitements, too much of everything. Makes one feel a bit inadequate, and quite poor.
Still, can't complain - consumed a bit of culture, a lot of food, walk the paths of central park, meet good old friends, listen to some good jazz - it's all great.

Here's little pieces of what I saw.


Robert Longo at a show in the Metropolitan Museum. Here's a link from The New Yorker about this interesting time in the art world in America: click on this post title to get there.

You Who Never Arrived - a poem

By Rainer Maria Rilke

You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don't even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of
the next moment. All the immense
images in me -- the far-off, deeply-felt landscape,
cities, towers, and bridges, and un-
suspected turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods--
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house-- , and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced
upon,--
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back
my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same
bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening...


--Translated by Stephen Mitchell

Another Kind Model

He tried on some of my suggestions, then rejected them thinking the combination was too good for the office and got some other items more suitable (only to come back a few days later to say he's rethinking).
I took his picture, he looked too good in there not to.

RM in Fab

Click on the post title and check out this Fab magazine cover and the credits for the clothes. The fact is they didn't credit RM for all the stuff I gave them - neglected to mention the belts, bag, and mostly the fab boots, but that's ok, I'm very forgiving.

Lhasa

To read translation of this next song you can click on the post title.

Not Here

Not Here by Rumi

There's courage involved if you want
to become truth. There is a broken-

open place in a lover. Where are
those qualities of bravery and sharp

compassion in this group? What's the
use of old and frozen thought? I want

a howling hurt. This is not a treasury
where gold is stored; this is for copper.

We alchemists look for talent that
can heat up and change. Lukewarm

won't do. Halfhearted holding back,
well-enough getting by? Not here.

Check This out

Thank you Douglas for sending the link to this blog. It's fabulous!
Click on the title to get there. You'll like it I'm sure.

http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com

JPG - A Master of Design

This fine young and lovely man marveled at the price of the sweater he is modeling for me here.
It's a Jean Paul Goultier polo sweater with silver (as in real silver) threads all over. No one tried it on yet, so I asked him to, and then he realized why the price was $200 (retail price $800). It's a fantastically sexy sweater on the right body.
How did I manage to convince him to try it on? I simply said it's probably the only time he'll be able to have a JPG garment against his skin.
You have to agree this is not just a regular polo sweater, it is special.

A Poem

Underground by Seamus Heaney

There we were in the vaulted tunnel running,
You in your going-away coat speeding ahead
And me, me then like a fleet god gaining
Upon you before you turned to a reed

Or some new white flower japped with crimson
As the coat flapped wild and button after button
Sprang off and fell in a trail
Between the Underground and the Albert Hall.

Honeymooning, moonlighting, late for the Proms,
Our echoes die in that corridor and now
I come as Hansel came on the moonlit stones
Retracing the path back, lifting the buttons

To end up in a draughty lamplit station
After the trains have gone, the wet track
Bared and tensed as I am, all attention
For your step following and damned if I look back.

The Official Dresser for the Zen Buddhist Temple

At some point in time both gentlemen lived there. They gave me this title.
One is a writer, the other a painter.
The painter said: " If you find something you love at RM, it's not worth going without it. You must buy it"
The writer said: " I'm flirting with my mind/body unity".
Here they are modeling their new wardrobe. Top to bottom all bought here.
One is wearing an Armani Emporium Ramie summer jacket over Paul Smith shirt and Italian designer shoes.
The other wears a Hugo Boss summer jacket of a cotton/silk mix over Zegna shirt, jeans and shoes.

The Sock Police

A couple of days ago, two nice young men who work in the government building around the corner walked in to browse. One of them, who said he's from a small Ontario town, said he was not worthy of being at my styled shop today, because he was told by a colleague who has all his shirts custom made, that he's wearing the wrong socks. The sock-cop told him socks should always match the pants, so they would not show when the pants are pulled up.

Well, I gave him a piece of my mind, as I'm known to do - basically told him no one (including me) has any right to tell him what to wear, no matter how much they spend on their clothes of think they know everything, and if he's comfortable wearing white socks with his Doc Martin shoes and green jeans, it's his right to do so. I also said that with all due respect to Ontario civil servants, most of them can hardly be considered the best authority on fashion. He liked that.

He loved the python boots I currently have in the window, tried to put them on but couldn't get his foot half way down. His friend had to use brute force to pry the boot off, I couldn't. That tells you how hard he tried to make it fit.
He was sad they were too small, but not sad enough to take my advice and cut his toes, Cinderella's sister's style... He did say however, that had they fit he's wear them to work every day. That he would make each day a 'Runway Day'.

A bit later that day, one of my new 'followers', a lovely opera singer named Rufus Muller (you can read about him in Toronto Star's March 12 Entertainment section), came in to chat and I told him about it. He said in a most charming British accent: "I make a special effort to make my socks match my shirt, no matter how outrageous they are, and they can be quite outrageous indeed".
Now if a stylish opera singer can't make you feel validated, fashion wise, I don't know what can.
I should put a disclaimer here and tell you that personally, I have a sock fetish.

I have a confession to make

I read my horoscope. There, I've said it. Think of me what you will.

I read this one today and it made me laugh out loud, so I'm sharing it with you, whoever you may be. See why I do it?


Libra Horoscope for week of March 5, 2009


Cartoonist Gary Larson defines luposlipaphobia as the fear of being pursued by timber wolves around a kitchen table while wearing socks on a newly-waxed floor. According to my reading of the astrological omens, there is a real danger you could fall victim to that deluded phobia. And it is definitely a delusion. No timber wolves will be in your immediate future. If you hope to avoid this mistaken anxiety, as well as other equally irrelevant and unproductive superstitions, you should have a nice long talk with yourself as soon as you finish reading this. Be very clear and strict and rational as you explain how important it is to be very clear and strict and rational right now.



Courtesy of http://www.freewillastrology.com/

Guest Post: A Woman's Renaissance

So, I (a woman) always think of and frequently go to, Renaissance Man when shopping for the men in my life. And they do appreciate it! But for me, the fun of RM doesn't stop there. I have benefited from checking out the shelves and racks not only for those guys, but for my very own wardrobe. Saturday I went in just to visit. Hah! While I was there, I spied the cosiest and most terrific fleece-lined hooded jacket I could hope for, in a perfect-for-me colour and size. Now, you gotta know this isn't the first time this has happened to me at RM. Last summer there was a certain lightweight, hooded yellow rainjacket, great little pockets all over the place (are we sensing a theme here?), that folded up into a hiking belt. Let's just say I own two great jackets from RM and I plan to check in regular-like...

RM, keep doing what you do!

lnxne

New Qoute

There is more to life than increasing its speed.
Mohandas Gandhi