Keira-anne.com

I’m a quality girl, I enjoy quality products. I have long been a firm believer in the idea that you get what you pay for. I won’t shell out a lot of cash for things like flip flops, socks and even sometimes panties (those H&M booty shorts are 3 for $10 and super cute). Then there are those items which deserve more than a few pennies tossed their way. For this girl, jeans, hair care and skin care rank in the top three.

I’ve been a consistent user of Bumble & bumble. for a few years now, and never bat an eyelash at the price tag. Sure it’s pricier than your average drugstore brands of hair care, but the results are worth it. It’s as simple as that. Duh.

A few months ago I received a suspicious text message from Becky during one of her south-of-the-border shopping trips. She was shopping at everyone’s favourite “fun find” store, Target, and spotted my beloved Bb. on the shelves. “Hmmm…” I thought to myself. Something wasn’t right, if only because I knew how exclusively Bb. sold their products.

Then again this morning, Jenny mentioned that she saw a few of Bb.’s products in the London Drugs on Davie Street. Naturally, I marched straight there to see the proof in the pudding. And there it was…a few bottles from their Seaweed, Alojoba and Creme de Coco collections.

I thought that Bb. products are only sold in salons, but I saw them in a drugstore, what gives?
We only sell our products through the Bb. Network which is comprised of exclusive salons and apothecaries throughout the world. We have no relationship with any mass market chains and none is authorized to sell Bb. products (and we hate it when they do). The only way to guarantee the efficacy of our products (so you know they’re the real deal) is to buy them from a member of our Network ( see Salon Locator ) or directly from Bumble and bumble. [source]

It was never my intent to dive into a diatribe on retailers who illegally sell products in their stores, but my point is that it’s completely important to have a bit of awareness as a consumer. This morning, as I unscrewed the caps from the “Bb.” I found at London Drugs, my nose was instantly invaded with a sharp stinging sensation - clue no. 1 that it wasn’t a genuine Bb. product. Major retailers, such as London Drugs and Target, are known to carry products obtained through a third party distributor, and the products themselves are often diluted or altered in an attempt to save money. In fact, when Jenny went to New York to attend the actual Bb. academy, she spotted Bb. products in corner stores around Manhattan.

How can you be more aware and support ethical consumerism? Here’s some easy steps:

1. Smell the Product. As I mentioned, the stuff spotted this morning smelled markedly different than genuine Bb. products.

2. Check Your Surroundings. I picked up my favourite perfume a few months back, knowing not many would have it since not even the Bay nor Sears carried it. Imagine my surprise when I spotted a stack of Marc Jacobs gift sets in Courtenay at the Shopper’s Drug Mart. Not only were there just a few available, the fragrance wasn’t available in an individual bottle. If a store genuinely carries a name, such as Marc Jacobs (which SDM doesn’t), a variety of that product will be available.

3. Look At the Label. The first thing I noticed about this morning’s “Bb.” discovery was the bottle of Seaweed. The design had been manipulated and looked nothing like those found in salons.

4. Check the Website. Most major brands are aware of their products being sold on the black market to third parties who then pass them on to chain stores. Usually you can find a disclaimer on any given website verifying this, and also informing you where you can legitimately purchase a product.

5. If It Seems To Good to Be True… it probably is. That DC hoodie you purchased for $20 at Army & Navy probably shouldn’t have been on the rack in the first place.

Perhaps I’m an anomaly, but I am one of the few who actually embrace getting older. In fact, 30 doesn’t scare me; I look forward to it. You may find this strange of me, but it is, in fact, the truth. My reasoning behind this is simple.

Something I have come to notice about myself in the last year or two is that, as I have grown older, I have grown wiser. That is not, however, to say that I’ve reached any sort of particular milestone, but I firmly believe that worldly wisdom is an important objective to aim for.

What is becoming abundantly clear to me is the reality of human nature. There is beauty there, and there is also ugliness. Sometimes neither is avoidable, and so a perspective grounded in reality is crucial to emotional survival.

In my humble opinion, one of the most unsightly sides to human nature is the way in which people treat each other. Let me preface this by saying that I in no way purport to exclude myself. Mud slinging, talking smack and insults seem, unfortunately, to be a part of almost anyone’s past. The trials and tribulations of adolescence and high school practically dictate the necessity of these tools. It’s something we all learn from a very early age.

Whether it’s to feel as though one is accepted or as a defence mechanism, I believe it all comes down to the self-esteem factor. The beauty in aging, growing older, experiencing life and gaining wisdom should theoretically have a direct impact in this arena.

With age can come cynicism; with experience can come hard lessons in reality. There will always be someone who has what we want, there are people who live on sidewalks, children who go hungry, politicians that lie, family and friends who let us down. What is important to realize is the simple fact that no one is perfect. And with that insight, hopefully we are able to rise above what is ultimately minute, what causes us insecurity and allows us to live lives that are fruitful rather than rotten.

While I could find some comfort in sitting here, lamenting over what tries to tear me down or make me feel less about myself than I should or am entitled to is a wasted effort. I know what is solid and real in my life. I know who Keira-Anne really is (and she’s turning out to be a pretty terrific woman, if I do say so myself), I know why my family is so invaluable, I have unyielding trust in the precious few friendships in my life and for the first time ever, feel as though I have the ability to rise above what is fleeting.

It’s probably been at least a 67 years since I last posted a link fest, so here you go, Tuesday. Here’s a link feast…

Photo: John Bollwitt on Flickr

P.S. I love my MacBook Pro

In a media realm saturated with celebrity, it’s entirely easy to fall victim to unrealistic expectations. When we’re bombarded with countless images of seemingly flawless figures and faces, questioning our own appearances and bodies seems to follow suit. It’s inescapable.

And then sometimes there is the rare occasion on which someone says something simple enough to bring us back to reality. This morning I read the following quote on IMDb from Anne Hathaway:

“I wanted a nose job, but now, my nose is what lets me change my face a lot. Your face needs to have character…otherwise you’re just a face.”

This strikes a rather positive chord with someone who’s long secretly wished for a nose job. Perhaps I should instead just shut up and be grateful for the character that my face does have. It’s part of what makes me who I am.

I still want bigger boobs.

“What would the world be like
If, for every rose given
Another would be received?”

[source]

For close to three years, I have worked in the same office tower in downtown Vancouver. It’s about 22 levels of law firms, investment offices and other well oiled money-making machines. On the bottom floor there are two cafes, a travel agent, a florist and, among other things, a convenience store. This convenience store, however, is unlike any other I’ve ever been in for the simple fact that it’s owned and run by two of the truly most astounding people I’ve come to know in this city.

Photo: Humpalumpa on Flickr

Nikki and her husband Raul (who I’ve affectionately come to call ‘Uncle Raul’) are often the respite in the long days I haul at the office. Usually once a day I’ll slip downstairs to buy a scratch ticket, a mini candy bar or a Diet Pepsi. My real reason for the visits, however, is simply to engage in warm conversation - even if only for a minute or two. Today was much like every other day, except in that by the time I was done having my chat with ‘Uncle Raul,’ I realized I’d been absent from my desk for 40 minutes.

As I’ve said before, a father is an irreplaceable person in a young girl’s life, but there are many men in a lifetime that wear the shoes in an instance or two. ‘Uncle Raul’ has always told me that I can come to him and Nikki to talk, share, seek advice and listen. And believe me, to say that ‘Uncle Raul’ loves to talk would be grossly understating the truth. It’s a good thing, too, because the man has a lot of wise and well-learned truths to share.

Today we spoke of loving others and sharing humanity. How the subject even came up in the first place, I’m not entirely sure.

Photo: ~Aphrodite on Flickr

Sometimes, and even often times, we will encounter people in our daily lives that impact us in a decidedly negative way. They drain us of our energies and our inside light, and sometimes through no intended way. Something as simple as a misconstrued e-mail or disconcerting glance can have a crushing effect. Sometimes it’s people we know; sometimes it’s a complete stranger.

It is because of this very reason that it is absolutely both essential and crucial that we as human beings put forth an extra ounce of ourselves to show compassion; to show a spirit of humanity. And before we can gain the ability to show love and kindness to those we know and don’t know, we as individuals need to show love and kindness to our own selves.

What is important in the big picture is holding on to the truths that we know, rather than the often irrational thoughts and ideas that ping around in our heads like marbles. While those marbles are likely to roll away once they’ve been exhausted, what we ultimately know is what’s left behind. Through this, we can instead create and hold on to an awareness of who we truly are on the inside. By this, I don’t simply mean our personalities, but the fact that there is constantly a battle brewing between our sensible, logical selves and our egocentric selves.

Photo: hidden side on Flickr

What do I mean by this? There is an insatiable, irresistible and voracious trait in each of us that wants our circumstances to change, to move the hands on the clock to 5:00 p.m. when we’ve just started work, to part the traffic so we won’t be sitting in a highway jam for an hour, for that phone to ring, for payday to come, for our holidays to start…

None of that matters. Right now, I am sitting in my pajamas in a wooden chair, clicking my fingertips on a keyboard and sharing with you the lesson I’ve learned today. That is the only thing that matters right now - this instant.

Right now, you are sitting at your computer and reading what I just wrote. Beyond that, take stock of the very moment you’re in. Realize it for what it is, have patience with yourself, accept the current circumstance of this very minute and be okay with it.

Love yourself wholly, and the ability to love others will come that much easier.

Last week I found myself at a walk-in clinic. While I was partly too lazy to trek across the Cambie Street Bridge to my actual doctor’s office, I find the medical staff at the Stein Medical Clinic [website] to be thoroughly professional and less of a headache to deal with.

I had a minor health glitch, one that had me diagnosed and out the door, prescription clutched in hand, in under 10 minutes. At one point during my time at the clinic, I do remember flashing my BC Care Card, but my debit and credit cards stayed firmly tucked in my wallet. From there, I walked to Urban Fare’s pharmacy, handed over my prescription and paid for it only five minutes later with, quite literally, pocket change.

To most Canadians, this is completely normal; to most Americans, this is a luxury.

To many of them, it’s a choice between visiting the doctor or paying this month’s rent. Canada, it seems, isn’t that far behind.

Photo: Brittany G on Flickr

Garnering both flack and praise, Michael Moore’s 2007 documentary “Sicko” turned the spotlight on the some 50 million Americans who are uninsured or are covered with such measly insurance that they’re victims of the system all the same. The problem at large in the United States is that health care is completely privatized, and in his film, Moore targeted his suspicions of the conglomerate insurance companies that were denying treatment to policy holders in order to pinch pennies…billions and billions of pennies.

Here in Canada, various levels of our Government foot the bills for approximately 70% of healthcare costs and the system is “designed to ensure that all residents have reasonable access to medically necessary hospital and physician services.” [source] A huge number of our citizens also receive further and more comprehensive coverage through their respective employers.

In a time where the almighty dollar is king (and making more of it is the name of the game), I have to stop and wonder how much longer we have until Canada goes the way of our southern sister. If and when that day comes, I’m packing my bags and moving to France. Who’s with me?

(Click here to view the trailer for “Sicko.”)

I like Eva Longoria, quite a bit, and so the point of this post isn’t a slam on her. Rather, it’s a perfect demonstration that she is a normal girl just like the rest of us. No girl is comfortable in her skin 100% of the time, and it’s completely understandable. Mainstream media bombards us with images that we ultimately know are largely fabricated, but the proof is often hard to find.

I’ve always said you can open any Victoria’s Secret catalogue and clearly see the airbrush marks and spots on inner thighs where excess inches have literally been cut away in photo programs. Sometimes, though, the best example is a side-by-side.

The photo on the left was shot for Bebe Sport’s recent campaign; the photo on the left was snapped just yesterday off the coast of Portofino, Italy.

Left Photo: Bebe Sport; Right Photo: Bauer-Griffin for People

She’s a real girl, ladies - with a healthy figure just like the rest of us.

As a little girl, it was common playtime practice on lazy summer days to lay down on the spikey grass in the sunshine and watch the clouds in the sky. Sometimes I’d try to find shapes within the clouds and make up stories with them. Other times I’d swear I could see the Earth moving when, in reality, it was simply the clouds visibly moving, not our planet.

Photo: Sylvanfeather on Flickr

I think what I loved most about cloud watching was the surreal experience it provided to my young and impressionable mind. I’ve always had a vivid imagination, and that part of my mind’s eye has always stretched across the void into my dream world. My dreams have always also been rather vivid, though they come and go.

What I’ve long found most interesting is that often I’ll have a dream of little or no consequence - more of a snapshot of activity - and then at some point down the road, that snapshot comes to life. Sometimes it’s months later, sometimes years later. Even just last night, as I sat around talking with friends, I had the strong sensation as though I’d seen this instance before.

Photo: venkane on Flickr

I am thankful for the ability to dream and I appreciate the dreams I have. Sometimes they are painful or frightening, such as one I had last night. Often, though, the dreams I have can bring immense peace and perspective into my life. Dreaming is a very powerful tool to tap into what might be going on, unbeknownst to ourselves. That isn’t to say that every dream will mean something; often they are simply silly and not at all meaningful.

If you’re curious, next time you dream, write down a few key symbols that emerged and see if any of it makes sense in some aspect. Another idea, though one that shouldn’t be solely relied upon, is checking out Dream Moods for a bit of direction. It allows you to search those key symbols and comes up with possible meanings behind their appearance in your dream.

Happy snoozing!

Anyone who is truly from Vancouver Island can affirm how painful an endeavour it can be to return to Vancouver after time spent at home. After six near magical days on la isla bonita, I have returned to the city in which I reside, but it will never truly be home. Yesterday marked my four year anniversary in the city, living in the same apartment on the same street. My dwelling is the only thing that’s remained constant in my time here. The faces and experiences that have come and gone in these years are more than I can count.

Photo: tempest_kat on Flickr

I find myself becoming more and more cynical towards this place, its people, the events and the general attitude. Why that is, I’m not sure. The bitterness, however, is starting to take its toll on me and it’s really quite pointless. I think that the time is right for a shift in thinking.

Photo: I am I.A.M. on Flickr

When I was a little girl, my giddiness and anticipation for family trips to Vancouver was uncontainable. It was, in fact, somewhat amusing to my parents. The first major trip I can recall was to Expo ’86 at the ripe age of 5 and on the verge of beginning kindergarten. It was a quick whirlwind mini vacay, but I still have a vivid memory dotted with fireworks, the monorail, Expo Ernie, glittering high-rises and a kaleidoscope of colour.

Once I entered my mid-teens, with my coming of age came a fresh dose of independence. At 16, I was allowed to take my first trip across the Georgia Straight with a friend. Our plan was to hit the all ages Spacehog/Everclear double bill at the Vogue, but upon its subsequent cancellation, Nadia and I found ourselves at the historic Capitol 6 on Granville to see Trainspotting. (My parents saw the film once it was released on video and were rather adamant that, had they known what it was about, I never would have been allowed to see it at the time.)

Long before I actually made the move to Vancouver, I dreamed about the day when I’d finally live sky high in one of those concrete towers I’d so admired as a child. When I was younger, the city and its ideals held enchantment for me. On every ferry ride over, I’d sit at the front of the passenger lounge, skip ahead to Underworld’s “Born Slippy” on my Sony Discman and watch the distant city skyline as the ship pulled nearer to Horseshoe Bay. The anticipation I felt in my belly was intoxicating, and the excitement that struck me at 5 still held strongly at 16 and beyond.

Now that I have spent the better part of half a decade (yikes!) living in downtown Vancouver, the anticipation has dissipated, the magic has faded and the glitter of gleaming towers has grown dull. As I learn more about the world in which I live, the people with which I interact and the true state of humanity, my disillusions of city living have been nearly entirely wiped out.

What I have realized as of late, however, is that focusing on these shortcomings and pitfalls of the city are a wasted effort.

Instead of lamenting how disheartened I am to be back amongst the noise, pollution, yelling, smells and traffic of downtown Vancouver, perhaps it would be more helpful and make more sense to consider the ways in which living in Vancouver has fulfilled me and instead enriched the person that I am.

It is time to make an attempt at re-capturing the beauty I once saw here with innocent eyes.

Thank you, Vancouver, for being home to some truly amazing people that I am blessed to call my friends.

Thank you, Vancouver, for being the backdrop of experiences that have taught me invaluable lessons in life and love.

Though my square, concrete balcony in the West End can’t compare to the lush, green gardens at my true Merville home on the Island, it boasts a killer view that – both literally and figuratively – gives me a much needed perspective on a different side of our world. Vancouver Island will always be home, but I suppose this place isn’t as bad as I try to make it out to be.

Photo: Incognitocanuck on Flickr

P.S. High five to anyone who “gets” the post title.

A peafowl’s lifespan is roughly 20-24 years. After close to six months of age, it becomes easier to tell the difference in sexes, and once it reaches approximately three years old, the peafowl’s tail grows a cover of brightly coloured tail feathers, often known as a train.

I have long been attracted to the peafowl because of its vibrant plummage and unique physical stature. In fact, to this day I still own a pair of tail feathers that I collected at Stanley Park when I was just 5 years old. Peafowls are rather regal in appearance and are known to be creatures of habit. The colours a peafowl displays are completely surreal, and perhaps it is in that alone that I feel the draw.

Original Photo: Canuck Gtrplyr on Flickr (Used With Permission)

Anyone that is close to me and in my “inner circle” knows full well that I am in a period of immense personal growth right now. The best word I could use to describe this time is exhilerating. Rather than exploring beliefs, ideas and the like, I am simply exploring “Keira-Anne” and figuring out what she is all about. I can’t even say that I know where all of this has come from, but much like a young peafowl, I feel as though I too am preparing to display my vibrant colours.

CHANGE

Change is at the core of everything that I’m experiencing and about to experience. In re-evaluating what I value, what is important to me and what I ultimately want in life, the conclusions have been surprising to say the least.

Beautifully, for the first time I am understanding what it is truly like to surround myself with friends, loved ones and the endeavours I treasure and to be happy with that. I am not in love or “infatuated” with anyone and, truth be told, it feels fantastic! And beyond that, I’m even starting to question whether I even want a consistent, long-term partner in my life. I know a lot of happily married people, but I also know a lot of unhappily married people. I’m not sure why it is that so many equate marriage to happiness in life. It’s not a definitive conclusion.

The beauty of change is that it is constant and anything but stale and stagnant. That being said, it’s quite possible (and likely) that these views will again morph into something else. New ideas and concepts will dance across my mind and I will undoubtedly learn more about who I am as time goes on. What I cherish most about this season is that I am learning to madly love who I am, what I see in the mirror, the people in my life and the idea of living with less rather than more.

More of what’s good for me, less of what’s toxic.