Sandal season! After 6 months of hibernation, tootsies everywhere have emerged in all their polished glory. I picked up these Seychelles babies on a recent trip to DSW, amongst a sea of Clarks and Chinese Laundry. I particularly love the braided detail and prom-esque black satin strap. After discovering how unbelievably comfortable they were, I poked around the Seychelles website and found them in two other (cuter) colours…restraint.
Have a lovely sunny Sunday. x
Seychelles, $90
Yellow
Emerald
Based on the paltry amount of FatFreeFashion Daily Serving post I do, one must assume my daily outfits consist of polyester pull-on pants and a Hard Rock Hotel t-shirts. As sexy and inspiring as that would be, I do try to ramble out of my bathrobe on a daily basis, so reflecting on this blog should happen more often. Hence, the first FFF double whammy outfit post. It’s a big deal, I know! I’m bracing myself here, it’s a pose, work with it. xx
Sweater: H&M. Necklace: F21. Dress: F21. Boots: Marshalls.
Life is a Highway
Yes, this is my inaugural Spring outfit post…socks be gone!!! Spring has sprung and it’s a positively balmy 10 degrees celsius in Toronto folks! We are sweltering up here, and my blue ankles only prove there’s got to be more of this GLORIOUS weather to come (please God, please, please).
F21 Everything, minus the Zara shoes and Micheal Kors bag.
Forgive the pose. I get “one shot” at glory and this is a big winner, no eyes closed.
Not White Socks- Spring has Sprung!
Woo Spring
After hearing people rave for years about the Shellac manicure, I finally got one to see what all the fuss was about. My nails are naturally brittle and short, and without major daily pampering will quickly morph into an unsightly mess. Fully aware of this predicament, I make a point to manicure my nails every few days, so I wasn’t expecting too much scolding when I arrived at the salon. HA! The most refreshing part about conversing with a person who doesn’t speak your language is that all subtleties are quickly lost in translation.
“Your nails are bad shape and too short. Not good for Shellac, but I’ll do.” Hmm. Having already made the trip to the salon, I thought “What the hell!” and committed to the two-week procedure. As a serious colour chameleon, selecting a colour that wouldn’t bore me to tears for two weeks was a big decision, but happily I settled on “Rock Royalty”, a purplish-black shade that is reminiscent of my favourite shade ever made, OPI’s Siberian Nights.
The application process is pretty straightforward. Unlike gel nails, where the nail bed is roughed up for preparation of the polish, a Shellac CND manicure only requires a Shellac Basecoat, which is smoothed on in two quick coats. After the base coat comes the Shellac CND polish. Why I am annoyingly repeating the whole name of the Shellac CND polish over and over? Apparently some salons offer “Shellac” manicures which aren’t certified, guising with just gel polish (it must be the Shellac brand) so ensure to eye the bottle before starting the procedure.
After baking my nails twice under the UV light, I was good to go. The shine! The gleam! My nails had never looked so good, and you can’t beat the drying time (0 minutes!). After thanking the Technician and promising to come back in two to three weeks for the removal process (HA!), I left the salon no longer a Shellac virgin.
The durability of Shellac nails is really impressive- almost unbelievable. Cooking, cleaning, typing, commuting, store renovations, NOTHING can chip this Teflon-tough manicure. In fact, the polish was so smooth, shiny and perfect, that after 17 days, I started to resent the cocky motherfucker. Won’t chip, eh? So tough, huh? What will it TAKE?! I’d heard that only 100% Acetone nail polish remover will remove the Shellac manicure (surely those who go back to the salon for removal are suckers?!) and decided that Non-Acetone Polish Remover will work just fine, thankyouverymuch. Right then. Not a smudge, not a trace, not single smear to be had on the cotton ball after a minute of hard pressing. Ok, so maybe I didn’t have Acetone, but I did have me a mighty fine knife in this here drawer! NOTE TO SELF: The red flashing light of “you’re going too far” should have went off at this point, but when presented with a challenge, Miss FFF always takes it ON! And on it went. The scraping. The picking. The peeling. The utter horror of realizing halfway through this nail mutilation that this was a horrible mistake, and there’s no turning back now! After a good 30 minutes of scraping, I had successfully managed to remove every trace of Shellac from my nails- or what was left of them. Tattered shreds, scraped and bruised, that no amount of fiber-filler or base coat could conceal for weeks. The removal process is no joke, and unfortunately I learned the hard way that it’s apparently not called Shellac for nothing!
The Shellac verdict? Go pro or go prepare to go mental, but definitely go for a long-lasting manicure that can withstand literally anything you throw at it.
Forget Ryan Gosling and all his everyday heroics saving peons from brushes with death. After swooning over these adorable photos of Mark Wahlberg helping a NUN cross the road, I’ve pretty much declared him The Perfect Man. Look at the serious expression on that man’s face. “This nun WILL make it across the road, dammit, ain’t nobody gon stand in my way of God’s work.”
As if hearing a soft whisper from God himself, Mark took his sexiness to another level and werked it out in a cheeky pair of denim shorts, complete with a toss shoulder smirk. You cheeky devil.
Happy Monday Lovers & Friends!
THe Perfect Man
Werk It, Werk It
In today’s digital age, anything can be purchased online. Travel, food, soft lines, hard lines, love interests, friends, sex- you name it, it can be purchased with the ease of a credit card number. This got me thinking. Yes, it’s quick and easy, but is it preferred? Personally, I rarely shop online. Living in Toronto and working downtown, I realize I am spoilt for choice when is comes to retail options. Stealing away on my lunch break to everything Canadian retail has to offer is an activity I sometimes (frequently) indulge in. But accessibility isn’t the primary reason I shop in-store. Shopping in person provides a satisfaction that the click of a mouse just can’t beat. The thrill of the find, the atmospherics, the option to try before you buy and the instant gratification are all reasons I prefer the traditional retail experience.
Shopping to me is an adventure in itself, which also leads to discovery. An intriguing store opening in a rather obscure part of town or city is often the carrot to bait me to the neighbourhood. I explore and find new favourites (restaurants, parks, events) that I probably wouldn’t have found otherwise.
Most importantly, shopping is an escape away from my computer, which I associate (mainly) with work. In my limited amount of downtime, I’d rather be enjoying human contact and soaking in inspiration, rather than holed up behind a screen, clicking my way to a great deal. I’ll even shamefully admit that the possibility of extra savings off my purchase isn’t enough incentive for me to shift my habits. In this high-tech world, maybe I’m just an old-fashioned traditionalist, but they don’t call it retail therapy for nothing!
A Feeling Money Can't Buy
Fashion and home decor go hand in hand- you can’t really love one without appreciating the other. The Design Files is a Melbourne-based design blog that inspires my inner Martha. I’m ready to move into this place right now! It has all my favourites: an obscene amount of vases, roses, the Med, Missoni and blue, blue, blue. I’m home.
Home Sweet Home
Come On Over To My Place
When a necklace is this good, it deserves a post. I picked this baby up from H&M for $19.95, after a coworker tipped me off “cuz I have a major thing for necklaces”. Of course it’s love! Thanks Bianca!
Best Barbizon Model Pose
The Star. H&M Neon Necklace
When this story broke a few days ago, I was in utter disbelief. In a drastic effort to lose weight before their wedding day, brides are turning to the controversial feeding tube diet, or “K-E Diet”. The “diet” involves being fed intravenously through the nose a mixture of vitamins and nutrients, while toting the liquid feed bag around as you “go about your business”, as quoted by one dieter. Business? Only a person with no responsibilities in life would have the time to entertain such nonsense. The fact this is even called considered a weight loss plan is terrifying. What’s worse is that a medical professional is standing behind this diet, boasting that “brides are able to lose massive amounts of weight on this plan” to achieve their weight loss goals.
Of course they’re losing weight- they’re dying! One would think that these woman would feel shame, or at least a bit silly going about their “daily business” with a feeding tube attached to their face (when they are otherwise physically healthy) but appallingly, they are taking comfort in the fact that “people just assume that I am dying of a terminal illness”. Well, I won’t argue that any woman who resorts to such asinine measures to drop a few pounds before her wedding is clearly sick in the head, however letting on that one is terminally ill is just plain sick. To think, all this misery in the quest to achieve the “happiest day of your life”.
The Feeding Tube Diet
Diet aside, the most frightening part to this crazy diet has got to be the monster Bridezilla that would emerge out of this plan! A ravenous, raging psycho bitch, ready to tear into her bridesmaids for the slightest wedding miss. Bridesmaid survival Strategy #1 when dealing with a crazy bitch on this diet? Avoid vanilla-scented ANYTHING at all costs, unless cannibalism is your thing. Mazel tov!
As the mercury rises, I’ve noticed around the city that the capri has been taken to new fashion lows with the pairing of tall boots.
Dressing for Spring can be a delicate balance. The weather is neither ideal for full-out Spring dressing, (frozen toes at 7am, blistering heat on the evening commute…) which can often leave woman perplexed on how to tackle the day ahead. While I am a strong advocate of layering, there are certain seasonal boundaries that must not be crossed. I’ve dubbed this style breach the “no man’s land” territory. That ugly space of exposed skin between the capri and the boot is not only heinous, it makes absolutely no sense! If it’s warm enough to expose the knee, it’s warm enough for a shoe. By venturing into this ultimate frump territory, one is essentially declaring open-season for style critics everywhere to tear you a new one. Don’t do it!
NO Man’s Land: The Great Divide
NO Man's Land: The Great Divide
