I can't even tell you how much I like this dress, it's exactly what I wanted and much prettier than I could have designed. Go Lowon Pope!
 | ||
| Muh dress! |
Monday, January 31, 2011
Dressed (Dress'd)
Yup. Been there, bought that. ^_^
I can't even tell you how much I like this dress, it's exactly what I wanted and much prettier than I could have designed. Go Lowon Pope!
I'll be back in the spring and summer for alterations, and it should be totally ready by mid-August! Squeee!
I can't even tell you how much I like this dress, it's exactly what I wanted and much prettier than I could have designed. Go Lowon Pope!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
ZOMG, I gone dun did it.
I got a dress.
Well, actually, I'm getting it on Sunday. But close enough, right?
I was getting a little worried...maybe this 1930s silk bias-cut dress without lace and pouff and all the trimmings was a fantasy that could never be met. Maybe I really was apple shaped, and should just give in and wear a floursack in true 1930s style...
Then I googled "Toronto, 1930s, bias cut, dresses" and up popped Lowon Pope. The name was actually familiar, and it turns out that it used to be about 45sec walk from our oldshoebox apartment. So I loaded The Boy and my Mother into the car and off we went.
Now, I'm not superstitious, but way back in my final year of film school we shot the opening scene of my film outside an empty store front in Liberty Village. Lo and behold, Lowon Pope had moved, and was now operating out of the very store where my two fictional lovebirds (and serial killers) met for the first time. This was a good sign.
We walked in, and I knew this was going to be good. Lana (the owner) knows what she is doing. Wow, just...wow. The designs are varied and wonderful. Beautiful fabrics, cuts, and styles. But really, when I walked in to hear Edith Piaf playing, I knew I was in the right place.
We tried on a few things I selected, and she pulled some more, and we were getting close, when out of nowhere, she brought out a new design by them with a beaded cowl. "ew." I thought... "beading, blargh." At which point she explained that I was looking at it backwards, and that the beading was on the back. "Hmm....touché..." I thought to myself, and went to try it on.
Wowza.
That was the one. Buuuuuut, it was double my (admittedly low) budget. So I thanked her and went home hoping that I'd come across some bags of money in the desert (but that a scary Spanish guy wouldn't kill me). Sadly, I did not find mysterious money bags. But I did spend a week visiting my best friend & future maid of honour on the cruise ship where he works.
When I got back, my Mother called me out of the blue and announced that not only would we be getting the dress, they would be paying for the whole thing...when I managed to pick my jaw up off the floor I thanked them.
I guess never asking for money and living off canned tuna and ramen all through university paid off in the end! ^_^
Well, actually, I'm getting it on Sunday. But close enough, right?
I was getting a little worried...maybe this 1930s silk bias-cut dress without lace and pouff and all the trimmings was a fantasy that could never be met. Maybe I really was apple shaped, and should just give in and wear a floursack in true 1930s style...
Then I googled "Toronto, 1930s, bias cut, dresses" and up popped Lowon Pope. The name was actually familiar, and it turns out that it used to be about 45sec walk from our old
Now, I'm not superstitious, but way back in my final year of film school we shot the opening scene of my film outside an empty store front in Liberty Village. Lo and behold, Lowon Pope had moved, and was now operating out of the very store where my two fictional lovebirds (and serial killers) met for the first time. This was a good sign.
We walked in, and I knew this was going to be good. Lana (the owner) knows what she is doing. Wow, just...wow. The designs are varied and wonderful. Beautiful fabrics, cuts, and styles. But really, when I walked in to hear Edith Piaf playing, I knew I was in the right place.
 |
| 30s, silk, bias-cut. Yay! |
 |
| Purty. |
 | ||
| The (fabulous) owner, Lana |
Wowza.
That was the one. Buuuuuut, it was double my (admittedly low) budget. So I thanked her and went home hoping that I'd come across some bags of money in the desert (but that a scary Spanish guy wouldn't kill me). Sadly, I did not find mysterious money bags. But I did spend a week visiting my best friend & future maid of honour on the cruise ship where he works.
When I got back, my Mother called me out of the blue and announced that not only would we be getting the dress, they would be paying for the whole thing...when I managed to pick my jaw up off the floor I thanked them.
I guess never asking for money and living off canned tuna and ramen all through university paid off in the end! ^_^
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Apples and Oranges...or rather, Apples and stupid dumbass Sales Clerks.
I'm sorry. I know I've been really bad about staying on top of things with this blog...but x-mas, and shopping, and holiday parties = no time. The good news is, I'll be writing a few posts today, so there should be some coming up over the next week or so!
Okay, so what was this about apples an orange sales clerks? WELL, where to begin...?
I'm getting married (we've established this...humour me), and to get married I need to wear a wedding dress. To get a wedding dress, I need to buy one. I went to my store of choice, tried some on, and was told I could talk with a designer and do some custom work on a 1930s style dress they had, as detailed here in my last post. Ok, we're all on the same page? Awesome.
So I went back, with my Mom in tow for advice...or criticism, I'm not sure... And thus begin the interaction with the sales girl from hell...
I brought in a drawing I had done of what I had in mind, taking decorative elements from their other designs and adding them to the plain 1930s satin dress they had. (forgive my questionable photoshop skills)
The nice girl I had originally talked to was gone. *ominous thunder* The new girl was very skeptical of this "changing elements on the dress" concept, in fact, I believe she called it "illegal". Folks, this is a slightly customized dress, in a dress store...not black tar heroin being smuggled out of Afghanistan by an army of drug mules. She offered to get the stylist on duty, and I (foolishly) thought "Yay! Someone who isn't insane!". Silly Rabbit, dresses are for non-illegal customization only.
Now, let me preface, I am not racist. BUT when an Asian girl with an orange fake tan and bleach blond hair saunters over, I suspect we will have differing ideas on a great many issues (to be fair, ANYone with orange fake tan an bleach blond hair, but this was particularly terrifying). This stylist maintained that any kind of customizations were "illegal" and demanded to know the name of the sales clerk who had told me it could be done. Thank god I didn't remember her name...I suspect we would never have found her body...
It was very clear that I was getting nowhere on this custom dress front...which was fine. But this stylist's hard-line attitude was a real shame because:
a) I know they do customizations, friends of mine have had dresses customized there.
b) I really want to spend my money at a local designer's store. Especially one with the history that Fashion Crimes has on Queen St. W.
c) I really fricken wanted the dress I wanted.
The stylist offered to show me their other wedding dresses, but I politely tried to leave. I've been there many times, I've tried things on, and I know what is and isn't there and what fits my budget/vision and what doesn't. She was very insistent.
She heads over the wedding dresses begins to randomly pull out dresses, "What about this one? What about this one? What about this one?". I mean, I suppose this works in some cases...but I can't shake the feeling that she really doesn't give a flying fuck.
For example, the first dress she pulls out is pink, with pink beading. Um, pink? Not only do I HATE pink, I doubt that anyone has EVER purchased a pink wedding dress from them (with pink beading) I shake my head, no. She pulls out a dress with mirrored tiles sewed to it. My eyebrows raise, of their own volition...Seriously? No. She continues down the rack, not stopping to, oh I don't know, ask me what I like and what I had in mind. No, no, the "What about this one? What about this one?" method seems to be her favourite.
Suddenly she stops and turns to me, "What would you say your shape is? Apple shaped?"
...
I stare at her for a second before I managed "Uh, no...hourglass."
...
I am no fat girl. I know that simply by insisting I'm not, I now need proof. Okay, I got yer proof. In fact, my measurements are a match top and bottom with a -10" difference to the waist (no, you're not getting the numbers, I have some class...or dignity, or whatever). You can say what you like, but apple shaped, I am not.
She follows this up with "What about a mermaid style dress?" That's fine, except I HATE mermaid style dresses. (For all the boys in the audience, a mermaid style dress is a very tight dress that flairs out at about the knees.) I. Just. Do. Not. Like. It. All I call see is early 90's Barbies.
"I really don't like mermaid style dresses..."
She casts me a pitying look.
"Oh, is it 'cause they're form-fitted?"
...
At this point, I announced that it was time for me and my Mother to leave and finish up our Christmas shopping.
Now, I've been wrestling with this whole exchange for a few weeks...part of me wants to contact the store's owner and tell how much I love her designs, and how much I want to get my wedding dress
there..and part of me wants to rail about how unprofessional and catty her stylist was/is.
What kills me more than anything is that I really wanted to give my business to Fashion Crimes, and not only would I have bought my dress there, but my Mother and several members of the wedding party were also going to buy their dresses there. But that stylist not only prevented me from shopping there, she insulted me (twice) just for good measure.
In the end, they still make beautiful dresses, and I still recommend them to people looking for a nice dress...just maybe not for wedding dresses.
P.S.
I also had to go behind the counter to retrieve my sketch because the stylist ran off on a coffee break before returning my drawing. No Me Gusta.
Okay, so what was this about apples an orange sales clerks? WELL, where to begin...?
I'm getting married (we've established this...humour me), and to get married I need to wear a wedding dress. To get a wedding dress, I need to buy one. I went to my store of choice, tried some on, and was told I could talk with a designer and do some custom work on a 1930s style dress they had, as detailed here in my last post. Ok, we're all on the same page? Awesome.
So I went back, with my Mom in tow for advice...or criticism, I'm not sure... And thus begin the interaction with the sales girl from hell...
I brought in a drawing I had done of what I had in mind, taking decorative elements from their other designs and adding them to the plain 1930s satin dress they had. (forgive my questionable photoshop skills)
 |
| Original dress on the left, design with added train, satin flowers, and pleated scarf-y element on the right. |
The nice girl I had originally talked to was gone. *ominous thunder* The new girl was very skeptical of this "changing elements on the dress" concept, in fact, I believe she called it "illegal". Folks, this is a slightly customized dress, in a dress store...not black tar heroin being smuggled out of Afghanistan by an army of drug mules. She offered to get the stylist on duty, and I (foolishly) thought "Yay! Someone who isn't insane!". Silly Rabbit, dresses are for non-illegal customization only.
Now, let me preface, I am not racist. BUT when an Asian girl with an orange fake tan and bleach blond hair saunters over, I suspect we will have differing ideas on a great many issues (to be fair, ANYone with orange fake tan an bleach blond hair, but this was particularly terrifying). This stylist maintained that any kind of customizations were "illegal" and demanded to know the name of the sales clerk who had told me it could be done. Thank god I didn't remember her name...I suspect we would never have found her body...
It was very clear that I was getting nowhere on this custom dress front...which was fine. But this stylist's hard-line attitude was a real shame because:
a) I know they do customizations, friends of mine have had dresses customized there.
b) I really want to spend my money at a local designer's store. Especially one with the history that Fashion Crimes has on Queen St. W.
c) I really fricken wanted the dress I wanted.
The stylist offered to show me their other wedding dresses, but I politely tried to leave. I've been there many times, I've tried things on, and I know what is and isn't there and what fits my budget/vision and what doesn't. She was very insistent.
She heads over the wedding dresses begins to randomly pull out dresses, "What about this one? What about this one? What about this one?". I mean, I suppose this works in some cases...but I can't shake the feeling that she really doesn't give a flying fuck.
For example, the first dress she pulls out is pink, with pink beading. Um, pink? Not only do I HATE pink, I doubt that anyone has EVER purchased a pink wedding dress from them (with pink beading) I shake my head, no. She pulls out a dress with mirrored tiles sewed to it. My eyebrows raise, of their own volition...Seriously? No. She continues down the rack, not stopping to, oh I don't know, ask me what I like and what I had in mind. No, no, the "What about this one? What about this one?" method seems to be her favourite.
Suddenly she stops and turns to me, "What would you say your shape is? Apple shaped?"
...
I stare at her for a second before I managed "Uh, no...hourglass."
...
I am no fat girl. I know that simply by insisting I'm not, I now need proof. Okay, I got yer proof. In fact, my measurements are a match top and bottom with a -10" difference to the waist (no, you're not getting the numbers, I have some class...or dignity, or whatever). You can say what you like, but apple shaped, I am not.
She follows this up with "What about a mermaid style dress?" That's fine, except I HATE mermaid style dresses. (For all the boys in the audience, a mermaid style dress is a very tight dress that flairs out at about the knees.) I. Just. Do. Not. Like. It. All I call see is early 90's Barbies.
 |
| FML. |
She casts me a pitying look.
"Oh, is it 'cause they're form-fitted?"
...
At this point, I announced that it was time for me and my Mother to leave and finish up our Christmas shopping.
Now, I've been wrestling with this whole exchange for a few weeks...part of me wants to contact the store's owner and tell how much I love her designs, and how much I want to get my wedding dress
there..and part of me wants to rail about how unprofessional and catty her stylist was/is.
What kills me more than anything is that I really wanted to give my business to Fashion Crimes, and not only would I have bought my dress there, but my Mother and several members of the wedding party were also going to buy their dresses there. But that stylist not only prevented me from shopping there, she insulted me (twice) just for good measure.
In the end, they still make beautiful dresses, and I still recommend them to people looking for a nice dress...just maybe not for wedding dresses.
P.S.
I also had to go behind the counter to retrieve my sketch because the stylist ran off on a coffee break before returning my drawing. No Me Gusta.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Dress for Success...or at least for warmth.
Let it be known that I do not like dresses.
They are uncomfortable & impractical: not good for climbing trees (something I AM likely to do), I'm terrified they will blow up over my head in a distinctly less-classy Marilyn Monroe moment, and they make me feel like a girly girl...which is strange and generally avoided.
But realistically, if I don't wear a dress at the wedding I think the Boy and my mother will tag-team kill me... So I went looking. And looking...and looking...
It turns out the awesome local designer I really like only makes schmancy dresses for stick-thin girls...something that I cannot claim (witness my bitchin' Halloween costume as Joan Holloway from Mad Men!)
But yes, the fact remains that I need a dress, and having gone to my store of choice and tried things on, it looks like it will be a bit of a challenge...
They suggested I take one of their 30s style satin dresses (the very plain ones) and work with someone at the store to add fancy bits. I'm not opposed, but I'm also not very well equipped to design dresses...gah!
I might take a stab at it later this week and post thetravesty results.
They are uncomfortable & impractical: not good for climbing trees (something I AM likely to do), I'm terrified they will blow up over my head in a distinctly less-classy Marilyn Monroe moment, and they make me feel like a girly girl...which is strange and generally avoided.
But realistically, if I don't wear a dress at the wedding I think the Boy and my mother will tag-team kill me... So I went looking. And looking...and looking...
It turns out the awesome local designer I really like only makes schmancy dresses for stick-thin girls...something that I cannot claim (witness my bitchin' Halloween costume as Joan Holloway from Mad Men!)
They suggested I take one of their 30s style satin dresses (the very plain ones) and work with someone at the store to add fancy bits. I'm not opposed, but I'm also not very well equipped to design dresses...gah!
I might take a stab at it later this week and post the
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
FORDPOCALYPSE!!!!!
Oh my.
I haven't forgotten about you, my lovely blog... I've just been a wee bit busy lamenting the terrible terrible choices certain Toronto citizens have made.
Yes, they elected Rob Ford. UGH. Rob Ford will be our mayor for 4 yrs, starting Dec 1st. His understanding of the city's finances is juvenile, at best. His transit plan involves colour coding the sidewalks so drivers don't need to read parking signs. Yes, the hallmarks of a man fit to be an ambassador for the city.
I was especially tickled when they voted him in despite him being a: racist, sexist, drunk, homophobic, wife-beating idiot.
Give me a day or two to lick my ego's wounds and chain myself to a bike lane... Then I shall return.
I haven't forgotten about you, my lovely blog... I've just been a wee bit busy lamenting the terrible terrible choices certain Toronto citizens have made.
Yes, they elected Rob Ford. UGH. Rob Ford will be our mayor for 4 yrs, starting Dec 1st. His understanding of the city's finances is juvenile, at best. His transit plan involves colour coding the sidewalks so drivers don't need to read parking signs. Yes, the hallmarks of a man fit to be an ambassador for the city.
I was especially tickled when they voted him in despite him being a: racist, sexist, drunk, homophobic, wife-beating idiot.
Give me a day or two to lick my ego's wounds and chain myself to a bike lane... Then I shall return.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
September 25th, 2011
September 25th, 2011 @ The Berkeley Field House!!! Squeeeee!
That's it! That's the date! :D
Now all I need to do is design, plan, and create a wedding...gah!
While we were at the venue signing all the papers they took us through the space to see the added features (curtains, chandeliers, etc). We saw another wedding being set up, and we've already stolen a fantastic idea from them. On their sign-in/name card table they had framed wedding photos of their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. We've got a lot of those pictures around already, but for some I think we'll have to dig and maybe contact some family members in Sweden...
The venue liaison (Tom) was fantastic and told us to drop by anytime between now and September to look at other weddings for ideas. I mentioned that we wanted to do something with mason jars (lanterns, vases, etc) he told us a recent wedding had strings of mason jar lanterns to light the ceremony tent...ooooo!
Well, here's to a year of stress, planning, and panic attacks! 25/09/11!
That's it! That's the date! :D
Now all I need to do is design, plan, and create a wedding...gah!
While we were at the venue signing all the papers they took us through the space to see the added features (curtains, chandeliers, etc). We saw another wedding being set up, and we've already stolen a fantastic idea from them. On their sign-in/name card table they had framed wedding photos of their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. We've got a lot of those pictures around already, but for some I think we'll have to dig and maybe contact some family members in Sweden...
The venue liaison (Tom) was fantastic and told us to drop by anytime between now and September to look at other weddings for ideas. I mentioned that we wanted to do something with mason jars (lanterns, vases, etc) he told us a recent wedding had strings of mason jar lanterns to light the ceremony tent...ooooo!
Well, here's to a year of stress, planning, and panic attacks! 25/09/11!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Big News!
I promise there will be some big news after 2pm today...! Maybe something with a date in it...? ^_^
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Venue'd!
Three ghosts came in the night (I assume) and visited my folks. When they got back from their adventures in the Black Forest, The Boy and I went to pick them up from the airport. Within 5min of getting to the car, they announced that our choice of venue seemed to be the best one...
HOORAY!!!!
We'll be going over the papers at the cottage this weekend (between devouring turkey and pumpkin pie) but barring any crazy contract issues, September 25th, 2011 @ The Berkeley Field House is the date!
HOORAY!!!!
We'll be going over the papers at the cottage this weekend (between devouring turkey and pumpkin pie) but barring any crazy contract issues, September 25th, 2011 @ The Berkeley Field House is the date!
Friday, October 1, 2010
They...RETURN!
'tis true. The parental units return this weekend from their forays into the depths of the Black Forest and Champagne country. Me and The Boy have been busy busy busy with injecting their diabetic cats with insulin twice a day...shudder. AND The Boy just got his real estate registration and is now a fully fledged agent with Century 21! (He has be rasslin' with being a grown up...mainly lamenting becoming "The Man".)
So begins the return to wedding planning. The deadline for venue selection has been set to October 11th. Come hell or high water The Boy and I will be booking our venue of choice if another has not been agreed on prior to that date.
No more little white gloves.*
*Yes, I have been regressing to classic Canadian films of my tween years. You LOVE it.
So begins the return to wedding planning. The deadline for venue selection has been set to October 11th. Come hell or high water The Boy and I will be booking our venue of choice if another has not been agreed on prior to that date.
No more little white gloves.*
 |
| You love the Bavarian Boys. |
*Yes, I have been regressing to classic Canadian films of my tween years. You LOVE it.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
The fine art of planning with parents.
That's a lie. There is no fine art. It's an awkward and ungainly dance around the actual issues, peppered with insults and misery.
Maybe that's a little dramatic...ah, but who doesn't love drama? Jersey Shore gets 5million viewers a week!
Trying to find a venue has been impossible. Completely, totally, depressingly impossible. Nobody agrees, everyone has different wants, and time is running out. The Boy and I have very few wants:
They're leaving for a holiday for a few weeks, and we've set a final decision date for a week after they return. Hopefully things will come together and no one will have to call in the homicide squad.
Maybe that's a little dramatic...ah, but who doesn't love drama? Jersey Shore gets 5million viewers a week!
Trying to find a venue has been impossible. Completely, totally, depressingly impossible. Nobody agrees, everyone has different wants, and time is running out. The Boy and I have very few wants:
- Indoor & outdoor space
- Not too fancy (a little rustic)
- In the city, and easily accessible to people without cars (all our friends)
- Fancy/elegant venue
- Anywhere within the bounds of the GTA...which is rather large
They're leaving for a holiday for a few weeks, and we've set a final decision date for a week after they return. Hopefully things will come together and no one will have to call in the homicide squad.
 |
| NOM NOM NOM! |
Friday, September 10, 2010
Something to Aspire to
For those of you who have never read The Sassy Curmudgeon's blog...for shame! I am about to gift you the greatest curmudgeonly blogger in the world (I particularly recommend her "go fug myself" series).
And today, by chance, she has a wedding related post...with a video of what is arguably the greatest wedding speech I've ever seen.
And today, by chance, she has a wedding related post...with a video of what is arguably the greatest wedding speech I've ever seen.
Oh I haz teh jealousies.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Theme'd?
I hate, HATE super girly/feminine things. Pink? Gross. Frills? Ick. Tiara? BLARGH. So we started thinking, how can we do a cool/pretty wedding that appeals to us, and also to my parents...?
Thus began the obsessive trolling of wedding blogs, flickr, etsy, and of course my friends' recent weddings (Pretty Poopie, Melissa). The Boy and I figured the best thing to do was make lists of what we DON'T want...here's a sampling:
Me:
Pink
Frills/lace/pouffy things
Anything super girly (tiara, veil, butterfly release, calla lillies, etc)
Super fancy wedding in a ball room/banquet hall
Big frilly dress/long train
Boring (aka normal) wedding
cash bar
indoor exclusively
The Boy:
No religious elements
Ordinary
Cash bar
No sit down meal
Huge guest list of random people
Bland food
So that was the starting point. Not terribly helpful... Then we thought, 30s! The 1930s were great! Art Deco! Speakeasies! Film noir! Martinis! ...Aaaaand, as the Boy pointed out, the depression and the rise if Hitler...but ASIDE from that, a pretty dandy time period.
From there we started branching out, 1930s style clothes and drinks, but modern food. The idea of a fancy 1930s ball or cocktail party wasn't really doing it for us, so I suggested a speakeasy theme. Somehow that drifted more towards a country barn party. And that's how we ended up with a 1930s socialite country barn speakeasy.
...We'll see how it goes.
Thus began the obsessive trolling of wedding blogs, flickr, etsy, and of course my friends' recent weddings (Pretty Poopie, Melissa). The Boy and I figured the best thing to do was make lists of what we DON'T want...here's a sampling:
Me:
Pink
Frills/lace/pouffy things
Anything super girly (tiara, veil, butterfly release, calla lillies, etc)
Super fancy wedding in a ball room/banquet hall
Big frilly dress/long train
Boring (aka normal) wedding
cash bar
indoor exclusively
The Boy:
No religious elements
Ordinary
Cash bar
No sit down meal
Huge guest list of random people
Bland food
So that was the starting point. Not terribly helpful... Then we thought, 30s! The 1930s were great! Art Deco! Speakeasies! Film noir! Martinis! ...Aaaaand, as the Boy pointed out, the depression and the rise if Hitler...but ASIDE from that, a pretty dandy time period.
From there we started branching out, 1930s style clothes and drinks, but modern food. The idea of a fancy 1930s ball or cocktail party wasn't really doing it for us, so I suggested a speakeasy theme. Somehow that drifted more towards a country barn party. And that's how we ended up with a 1930s socialite country barn speakeasy.
...We'll see how it goes.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Origin Story
So what's a super hero without an origin story? Nothing. Just some batshit crazy dbag in a cape. And while I may wear a cape when drunk enough, I'm no dbag...so here's ours:
-- August 2003 --
The giant blackout had just ended (which sucked, because I really enjoyed seeing the Milky Way in downtown Toronto...), and my best friend and I were first in line to see Evil Dead: The Musical at the Tranzac. (I just want to point out, this was the opening run of the show. Back when it was a bunch of recent grads operating out of a bar in the Annex...hey I get street cred when I've earned it...) This was when the Boy and I first met, except that we didn't talk or fall in love or anything exciting like that.
No, he went to the early show with some friends and caught the subway home, but my friend & I had no fear of the blueline to get us home, so we went to the late show. And we passed at the doors, like zombiefied nerds in the night...
-- September 2004 --
I'm in film school, naturally I decide to be a keener and volunteer at the Toronto Film Fest. Mainly because Midnight Madness is the shit, AND because volunteers used to get to watch the film & get 2 free movie vouchers per shift.
Anyways, I arrive for my shift, and the theatre is a mass of screaming 13yr old girls, all squealing for Orlando Bloom and ignoring Bill Paxton (which was wholly unfair, because Bill Paxton is pretty freakin awesome...). So I end up having to help the control the line, and I end up chatting with this nice guy with red hair (zomg! The Boy!) and a really confused old guy. The line moves and that's that.
-- Several Weeks Later --
I get a job as an extra in George A. Romero's Land of the Dead. This is the highlight of my working life...Still. I go for my costume fitting and this red headed guy in a bright blue sweater and purple plaid pants is getting measured...geez, he looks familiar...
-- October 2004 --
The filming date was pushed back, and now I have to choose between being a zombie or seeing Morrissey....yes my own personal Sophie's Choice. Well, I sacrifice zombie glory and get my Moz on, deeply sad that I will never live on in film as a flesh eating undead monster.
...But then the call comes! October 23rd, Zombie Time!!!
I get to the film set and there is that red headed guy with purple plaid plants from the costume fitting. Weird. A production assistant comes over to me, red head, and other guy...unfortunately they have left our costumes on the other truck, and we need to sit together for the next 45 min while they track down the purple plaid pants etc. Ok, cool. I decide I should probably chat to these guys, but the other guy seems like he may choke on his own tongue and die if he needs to stand and talk, and that vaguely familiar red head is wearing a Teen Girl Squad shirt...I approve red head guy...I approve.
Over the next month we are stuck sitting and chatting during the 16hr work days on set, but he's cool & nice, and likes to judge random strangers' fashion sense with me...this could be a good thing.
-- 2 years Later --
The Boy: "I was going to ask you later, but you seem like you need cheering up...*presents box* will you marry me?
Me: "... You asshole. You're going to make me get all girly and cry..."
The Boy:"Um..."
Me:"YES!"
THE END
P.S.
Reader: "I thought this was a superhero origin story...?"
Me: *fidgets nervously* "Yes...um...see below?"
-- 2 years Later --
Then they both got super powers from radioactive bats and fought crime from a secret lair under the sea. They could talk to fish like Aquaman, and could fly like flying fish...They mainly fought illegal overfishing, and uhhh, king crabs?
THE END
-- August 2003 --
The giant blackout had just ended (which sucked, because I really enjoyed seeing the Milky Way in downtown Toronto...), and my best friend and I were first in line to see Evil Dead: The Musical at the Tranzac. (I just want to point out, this was the opening run of the show. Back when it was a bunch of recent grads operating out of a bar in the Annex...hey I get street cred when I've earned it...) This was when the Boy and I first met, except that we didn't talk or fall in love or anything exciting like that.
No, he went to the early show with some friends and caught the subway home, but my friend & I had no fear of the blueline to get us home, so we went to the late show. And we passed at the doors, like zombiefied nerds in the night...
-- September 2004 --
I'm in film school, naturally I decide to be a keener and volunteer at the Toronto Film Fest. Mainly because Midnight Madness is the shit, AND because volunteers used to get to watch the film & get 2 free movie vouchers per shift.
Anyways, I arrive for my shift, and the theatre is a mass of screaming 13yr old girls, all squealing for Orlando Bloom and ignoring Bill Paxton (which was wholly unfair, because Bill Paxton is pretty freakin awesome...). So I end up having to help the control the line, and I end up chatting with this nice guy with red hair (zomg! The Boy!) and a really confused old guy. The line moves and that's that.
-- Several Weeks Later --
I get a job as an extra in George A. Romero's Land of the Dead. This is the highlight of my working life...Still. I go for my costume fitting and this red headed guy in a bright blue sweater and purple plaid pants is getting measured...geez, he looks familiar...
-- October 2004 --
The filming date was pushed back, and now I have to choose between being a zombie or seeing Morrissey....yes my own personal Sophie's Choice. Well, I sacrifice zombie glory and get my Moz on, deeply sad that I will never live on in film as a flesh eating undead monster.
...But then the call comes! October 23rd, Zombie Time!!!
I get to the film set and there is that red headed guy with purple plaid plants from the costume fitting. Weird. A production assistant comes over to me, red head, and other guy...unfortunately they have left our costumes on the other truck, and we need to sit together for the next 45 min while they track down the purple plaid pants etc. Ok, cool. I decide I should probably chat to these guys, but the other guy seems like he may choke on his own tongue and die if he needs to stand and talk, and that vaguely familiar red head is wearing a Teen Girl Squad shirt...I approve red head guy...I approve.
Over the next month we are stuck sitting and chatting during the 16hr work days on set, but he's cool & nice, and likes to judge random strangers' fashion sense with me...this could be a good thing.
-- 2 years Later --
The Boy: "I was going to ask you later, but you seem like you need cheering up...*presents box* will you marry me?
Me: "... You asshole. You're going to make me get all girly and cry..."
The Boy:"Um..."
Me:"YES!"
THE END
P.S.
Reader: "I thought this was a superhero origin story...?"
Me: *fidgets nervously* "Yes...um...see below?"
-- 2 years Later --
Then they both got super powers from radioactive bats and fought crime from a secret lair under the sea. They could talk to fish like Aquaman, and could fly like flying fish...They mainly fought illegal overfishing, and uhhh, king crabs?
THE END
Something New.
There's not much more new than this. I mean, I've never done this before, and I don't just mean marriage, or planning a wedding... I mean planning an event of any kind...
I think the most involved event I've ever planned was a fundraiser for a film I made. It consisted of using the upstairs of the bar I worked at, and getting a few friends to play music. Not exactly involved, but it nearly killed me.
So here I am, embarking on the planning/execution of a wedding...my wedding...gah. And I'm lost. Really, truly lost. Wedding blogs confuse me, I don't like girly things, I loathe the idea of being a bridezilla, but I want a nice memorable wedding for myself, my family, and of course, the boy. So what to do?
Quickly! To the tubes of the internet!
I hope that I can share my experiences, the ups & downs, and if nothing else, the ridiculous screw ups & rage that are looming on the horizon.
I think the most involved event I've ever planned was a fundraiser for a film I made. It consisted of using the upstairs of the bar I worked at, and getting a few friends to play music. Not exactly involved, but it nearly killed me.
So here I am, embarking on the planning/execution of a wedding...my wedding...gah. And I'm lost. Really, truly lost. Wedding blogs confuse me, I don't like girly things, I loathe the idea of being a bridezilla, but I want a nice memorable wedding for myself, my family, and of course, the boy. So what to do?
Quickly! To the tubes of the internet!
I hope that I can share my experiences, the ups & downs, and if nothing else, the ridiculous screw ups & rage that are looming on the horizon.
 |
| me & the boy. |
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