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Last week I took some time off work and escaped to Vancouver Island for nine days. Much of that time was spent wearing stretchy pants, watching HGTV, sleeping in late, stuffing my face with all kinds of food that’s bad for me (my skin was hating me for doing so), drinking beer, BBQing, baking and catching up with friends. I managed to squeeze in a day of going through old boxes with my mom and aunt, hoping to find a lot that could be given away or recycled.

I discovered far more spiders and mice than this city girl is kosher with, but also learned that apparently I used to be a major pack rat. I saved everything from tees to receipts and even hotel shower caps. However, among the overstuffed boxes laid a few gems and memories that I thought I’d take the time to gratuitously share with you all.

My summer of 15. Taking trips to Vancouver, sans parents, was always a thrill. We never had shops like Underground in Courtenay. Plus, I knew I’d never get to see Trainspotting if my parents had anything to say about it.

When I did find myself in the city with one or both parents, a Vancouver Canucks’ hockey game was almost always on the agenda. Anyone raised in BC will certainly remember the 1994 playoffs and the legendary roster.

Apparently there was also a NBA team that called Vancouver home at one time…

I also found my old diary…

… and somewhere in the boxes was my baby book.

I’ll never forget my first concert. My dad took me to see U2′s Zoo TV World Tour at BC Place when I was 11, and I still remember the butterflies I felt while stepping off the Skytrain. I was crushing on Bono – hard.

There’s no better way to hear Achtung Baby than live and loud.

(Yeah, I don’t get it either.)

These belonged to my mom and aunt when they were little girls and got passed along. Somewhere there’s a hipster dying to own them.

Remember a long, long time ago… about 24 years ago? There was a little exhibition along the waterfront at False Creek in Vancouver and people came from far and wide to share in the cultural experience. Expo ’86 brought the world to our slice of the planet for five months in 1986, bringing with it iconic legacies that are still part of Vancouver in 2010.

I went through a phase in junior high where I collected everything and anything I could get my hands on from the world fair. At one point I even found a stuffed, life-size Expo Ernie (the official mascot), but he sadly succumbed to dirt, dust, mice and water damage. A few items remained in near-mint condition.

“Something’s Happening Here” played during the evening fireworks display. What I wouldn’t give to be able to digitalize the tape and play it here for you all. It’s the epitome of “epic”.

Though I was incredibly young at the time, I still have a few fond memories of the trip I took with my family across the water and into the colourful, musical, creative gates of Expo ’86.

Purple velcro shoes? Check.

Somewhere in the memorabilia boxes from Expo ’86, I also found a ton of buttons. I suspect the aquarium buttons were from way back when it was still okay to keep whales and dolphins in captivity. Oh wait…

Last, though certainly not the least, comes one of my most treasured pictures. For reasons unbeknownst to me, at one time there were lions and tigers (yet not bears) on display at the Driftwood Mall in Courtenay. My dad paid to have a Polaroid snapped of me holding a tiger cub. I’m guessing that he’s not so cuddly and cute anymore (and hopefully not still in captivity either).

While more than half a dozen bags and three or four boxes were bound up for the thrift store and recycling bins, I’m not cutthroat enough to get rid of any of these items. Who knows when my eighth grade medal for basketball sportsmanship will come in handy?

How much more badass would Ghostbusters have been if the Beastie Boys weren’t still cookin’ up License To Ill in their basement?

This is how…

Here’s Jenny Lewis’s newest music video. There are few things I hate in music videos as much as literal imagery, but I hesitate to be in any way critical of Jenny. What I do enjoy is how youthful her face looks. She’s like Jenny, except circa 1986.

“I couldn’t leave BC, let alone the West Coast,” has always been my response whenever someone has asked me where I’d move if I could move anywhere. Except, however, that isn’t entirely true. Much like the Crocodile Dundee movies instilled an insatiable thirst for New York City in me from a young age, the same can be said of Southern California thanks to countless other movies from the 80s.

There’s something almost quaint about SoCal that I can’t quite put my manicured finger on…

Photo: LA Wad on Flickr

Maybe it’s the idea of living in a town that begins with San or Santa or Los. Maybe it’s because I want to wear my flip flops to the Circle K in the evening for a slushy. Maybe I wish I could have written my SATs… just out of curiosity.

Photo: Bisayan lady on Flickr

I think there was something about the adolescences of Brad and Stacy, of Bill and Ted, of Hannah Nefler and so many more that I have always found enviable. Don’t get me wrong because growing up in Comox was an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything, but it’s California. CALIFORNIA! (“Califorrrrrrnia“)

Photo: www.YoVenice.com on Flickr

I won’t lie… there are moments I feel like packing up, blindly heading south and setting up a new life amongst the palm trees and sunshine and bikinis and rollerskates and starry eyes and Spanish deco-inspired neighbourhoods. Oops… make that “neighborhoods,” right?

I think Jordy and I would fit in just fine down there…

(Plus, it appears the Bay Market sells ice cream!)

Last weekend I watched a film that has long been known as the “ultimate chick flick,” so it surprised me that I’d never seen it before Saturday night. Steel Magnolias seems to have most men running for the hills, but I was astonished at this movie. Our generation’s flock of actresses can hardly hold a torch to the women that dominated the screen decades ago. Shirley MacLaine and Olympia Dukakis had me in stitches!

I wanted to post this scene because it was unbelievably real while at the same time undeniably humourous. Whether you appreciate Sally Field or not, you cannot argue that her performance was pulled from a place so deeply authentic that we can all relate to it.

If you’ve never seen Steel Magnolias but plan to, be aware that this scene contains all kinds of spoilers.

It’s Sunday and it’s sunny and I’m terminally bored. You probably are too, so watch an episode of DJH for fun, okay?

“C’mon, you know I really like you…”

“Okay.”

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

If the day ever comes that I have my own children, I’d like to be able to stay home with them. In fact, I’d seriously reconsider the entire idea if staying home with my kids wasn’t a fairly solid possibility. As a little girl, I was entirely fortunate in that my mom didn’t return to work until I started elementary school. When I caused a disturbance at preschool and sat in the corner crying, mom was to the rescue right away.

Once I started elementary school, however, an after-hours babysitter became necessary. This is where the trouble began…

It sometimes amazes me at how irresponsible some people can be when in charge of children. This morning, Lindsay and I were exchanging babysitter horror stories, and it became clear to me that my brother and I weren’t the only ones with stories to tell.

Marnie was my favourite. She didn’t interact with us much, but she was really nice, and pretty with blonde hair and black leather tasseled jacket. I liked her best because our afterschool snack consisted of a spoonful of peanut butter dipped in chocolate chips. Delish!

L was one of my least favourites. She was in BC from the Prairies for a summer and locked my brother and I outside. We were only allowed inside to eat and pee. Interrupting Country Music Television was not okay. One time, I took my brother to the local playground and he didn’t quite make it back in time to use the washroom, so green leaves were required. It was messy. Very messy. L made me, being the 8-year-old, clean it all up.

The worst, by far, was C. One summer I was running barefoot in her backyard and stepped on a rusty nail in a board. With her considerable medical training, one would think she’d treat the injury adequately. Apparently “adequately” consisted of a bandaid and sending me back outside. Her son also had a regular morbid habit of reducing me to tears by telling me I’d die before he would and that he’d make fun of me after I was dead. Did I mention he was 6?

Okay, your turn…share your worst (or best) babysitting stories.

See this handbag…the one I’m toting here?

When I first bought it from Joe Fresh (yah, at Superstore) a few months ago, I fell in love with it. And because it was so cheap (it was $4.95 – I literally paid for it with pocket change), I bought two more to keep on deck. But the straps on that bag have been pissing me off for so long now because they have no hope in hell of staying on my shoulder. They’re always slipping, slipping, slipping down every ten seconds and I’m ready to rip the handles off and dance all over them, Danny Tanner style.

This has been a thoroughly discouraging experience. I’m done with Joe Fresh.

Twiggy. Jackie Kennedy. Madonna. Gwen Stefani. Princess Diana of Wales. These are all names that have, at one point or another, been synonymous with the term “fashion icon.” One name that will be found on very few lists is Sue Charlton.

In my previous post, I took you to the time in my life when I became captured by New York City by way of the film “Crocodile Dundee.” It wasn’t only The City That Never Sleeps that caught my impressionable 6-year-old eyes. I was captivated by the sophistication and daring nature of the film’s heroine, Sue Charlton.

From the first moment she appears on screen, we are shown a woman who clearly epitomizes a fresh face with an even fresher fashion sense. While at the time I was too young to appreciate the details, now as a woman in her 20s, it’s all that I notice.

From her leather safari gloves to her over-sized hats, gauzy scarves to hip and high-waisted belts, Linda Kozlowski’s Sue Charlton appeared as though she’d stepped off the pages of any Vogue magazine in 1986.

In reality, Sue would’ve needed both a trunk and an iron in the Australian Outback to rock what she rocked, but that’s entirely besides the point.

In fact, 22 years later I’d still like to raid the wardrobe closet from that film. Well, at least some sections of it…

This is one dress that never ceased to completely fascinate me as a child. It was bold, red, daring and showed a lot of skin. With all those cut-outs, I could never, ever figure out how her panties didn’t show. At that age, it never occurred to me that a woman would go out in public without panties. And while I don’t know anyone that could – or would – wear such a dress today, I applaud her regardless!

In the final scenes where the girl gets her man, we are all witness to something I still cannot get over to this day. While running from the Plaza Hotel to the nearest subway station, Sue ditches and discards her perfect leather pumps in an effort to start sprinting. Some men are worth a mad dash, but surely she could’ve tucked them under her arm or something. They were probably Prada!

It’s certainly true that much of what came from Sue’s‘s closet in 1986 should remain there, and only perhaps half of her pieces could translate to 2008. However, there is no denying that she was on top of the garment game. Sue Charlton may not be a conventional fashion icon – nor one that many even know – but that which she dared to wear still echoes today, and that is truly making a statement.

All photo captures from the film “Crocodile Dundee” are credited in their entirety to Paramount Pictures.

…I used to be in Hanson and dress like Matthew McConaughey.