I got new glasses – or rather, new frames on an old prescription — and I now realize they are identical to the ones Molly was wearing before Marcia Brady turned her into a popular girl (and then Molly became insufferable).
As a teen and young woman in her 20s, I used to absolutely live in Sarah Clothes. The latter was a store in Ottawa – in the Glebe, the ‘hood of my youth – where I used to shop when I first began to spend my meager babysitting earnings. I adored the styles on offer there – one part hippy, one part Victorian, one part British colonial India. I still remember a perfect quilted Sarah Clothes jacket I owned. It was in lovely shades of blue with a floral print and I wore it with jeans or dresses or skirts (Sarah’s made the most divinely perfect crinkly cotton skirts). The clothes were such excellent quality, as well – I shopped there in the ’80s, primarily, and I was still wearing a couple of their blouses in the mid-aughts. Seriously! I just loved that store. I applied for a job there once and they did not hire me. Sigh. A disappointment to my 18-year-old self.
…about Doris Day and how she gets the short shrift from cultural morons. In fact, I would argue that she and John Wayne are scapegoats for what the Baby Boomers hate about the 1950s. The column is at CBC Opinion.
Today is as good a day as any to remind you to visit my other website.
…at the Wall Street Journal – it’s about Italy, China and the Belt and Road Initiative.
…at the Wall Street Journal. Enjoy – if you can get past the subscriber wall.
‘Tis true, what it says in Ecclesiastes. Fittingly then, I am going to re-post here a couple of articles I wrote a few years back, both related to current events: in honour of the World Cup, I give you my essay about attending a Serie A match in Italy in 2013 (though ’twas published in 2014); and not in honour but given that the Calgary Stampede has just started up, I give you this piece from three years back.
Dear readers, I am back from a wonderful trip to Ireland, about which I will be writing here (and in other places) anon. I wanted to start with a picture of myself taken on Whiddy Island, Ireland. I rarely post — and even more rarely appreciate — pictures of myself. But I truly like this photo, because I think it sums me up in a frame (a woman with bad hair who, when in the presence of a kitty, is oblivious to all else). I will write more about this photo later, and in particular this cat, but for now I would just like to thank my colleague Hermann Low for taking and sending it. Danke.